#I mean she doesn’t bark at me and my mom cause she’s not scared of us | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetsbfreex · 3 years

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love me for me, it’s all i ask

Summary: Bucky meets your family, but your nerves clouds you judgment

Warnings: angst!!!

Pairing: Bf!Bucky x reader

Dating your Bucky is filled with a mix of gentle touches, insecurities and reassurances, long yearning stares, love running so deep he had Tony install some kind of metal warmers–– so you wouldn’t shiver every time you cuddled into his arm or he decided to wrap it around your waist while you slept. It was heaven, but of course there were bumps in the road.

Dating the Bucky Barnes or what most people saw as the “Winter Soldier'' was filled with: anxious walks down the street with his hand holding your waist tightly, his natural habit of looking over his shoulder, and his need to wear a pair of black,leather gloves no matter where you went. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, you loved him too much for it.

“Buck, calm down, it’ll be fine.” You chuckle, keeping your eyes on the road, yet lifting one hand off the wheel to briefly squeeze his anxious leg.

His leg stops shaking and he only nods his head, but when he realizes you can’t see he chokes out a sorry. Instead, he begins to twiddle his gloved thumbs and turns his head to look out the window. He watched the shops and trees pass by in a flur, there wasn’t much on his mind other than what he would say when he got there.

You slow the car at a red light and turn to see him in the same state. "It's okay if you want us to go back to your place, I can take a u-turn right here, and we can meet them another time." you tell him, extending your fingers to tangle with the ends of his hair.

“I’m fine doll really...just excited,” He semi-lied through his perfect teeth adding a small smile.

You were both on your way to your parents house, only ten minutes away now. Bucky coming along wasn’t anything planned.

Your mom had called two nights ago, at the same time you and Bucky snuggled in bed watching his latest fix on Hulu. Streaming platforms are something he enjoyed about the modern world. He liked that he could have things like Shirley Temple in a pinch, anytime and anywhere he wanted.

Anyway, Your mom had called, interrupting the trance Tom and Jerry had on the both of you at the moment.

“One second” you tell him, unraveling from his hold before getting hold of your phone. Bucky makes a move for the remote, but you assure him that it’s fine so he goes back to watching the cartoon.

And you answer, “Hey mom.” When Bucky heard who it was calling, he side-eyes you for a few seconds, curious.

“Hey! y/n/n, you haven’t called in awhile are you okay? Me and Snicks miss you” The call of his name causes you to hear a bark in the background.

“I’m fine, it’s literally been a day. Are you okay?” It’s not weird for her to call during this time, but nonetheless you know she has something she needs to say.

“‘Perfectly fine honey. I was calling because Daisy is coming down the day after and we’d thought it would be nice for the three of us and aunt to come down too. You’re not busy are you? Maybe you could take a quick detour and visit?” She lived alone in your childhood home, refusing to let all the memories die in the cherished home. Going as far as making you and your sister promise one of you would possess the house when she passed on.

At the mention of a little reunion, you decided it would be best to take this somewhere with more privacy. You couldn’t explain, but you thought it would be better for Buck not to hear it. He hasn’t met your family and you don’t want to pressure him into meeting them if he isn’t ready or uncomfortable. You also didn’t want to ask him...in case he wasn’t ready or comfortable.

“Uhh one second” you mute your phone, telling Bucky you’ll be in the hallway prior to giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Mom?”

“I’m here!”

“Yeah I can make it, shouldn’t be busy, it’ll likely be me though.” You pace the hallway up and down as if it was the only place to walk in the whole house.

“That’s great, okay, I’m gonna text Shirley to come by earlier so we can make a bit extra of everything”

“Extra? Isn’t it just the four of us?”

“No, honey, you know the kids and your sister said she’s bringing someone. Well I don’t know! You know how these things go”

The call goes on for a minute or more. Your mother tells you whatever information is vile and sends you a goodnight. Which you return.

“Sorry, she wanted to inform me of something” you tell him as you walk through the door. Placing your phone in charge once again and like a kitten nestling yourself into his side once again.

He lets his metal arm lay over your shoulders and you interlace your hands together.

Silence passes by and gets broken by Bucky who clears his throat to speak up. “Uhm” he starts his free hand coming up scratching the back of his neck. “Do you want me to act like I didn’t hear the conversation?

You sit up in surprise at his confession. “You heard that?!”

He sends you in an unimpressed look. His finger points to his ear then his hand hovers his body, going up and down wildly. Unimpressed at the way you forget he’s pumped in this super serum, he can’t help how far his hearing is.

“Sorry I just forget you’re not human human”

He takes a beat of silence to himself, “I’m not human human?”

“No! Baby, not like that. You know I mean like I forget that you these special abilities–– other than your arm–– inside that I can’t see...y’know”

“It's fine doll” he pulls you back into his side, “Are you going?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you need company? If not that’s fine I just wanted to ask––” he goes by the question quickly, scared that he’s made it weird between the two of you.

“You want to visit my family with me?” you ask astounded.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it?” he reassures you in a haste, a hand going to your bare thigh.

“Are you comfortable with it?” you ask.

“Baby, I just said––” he laughs in a delicate manner.

“I know, I know. Sorry. I just didn’t know you would want to, I know how anxious you get with a bunch of people, Which is fine! But I don’t want to nudge you in something like that”

“I think it would be perfect, honestly”

“I’m happy you think so” you smile.

Currently the car parks in the driveway of your former home. The leather enveloping Bucky’s hands wring together. You don’t say much, only getting out of the car, jogging to Bucky’s side of the door, until you could open his door.

You tug him into a gentle hug. Standing between his legs once he’s adjusted himself to take every last of you in. You squeeze him once and smile when you feel the nerves and tension falling from his shoulder.

You okay?" you ask. It may seem like a dumb question at the time, but one thing you've learned about Bucky is. A simple question like that allows a spacious answer, it helps him a little more.

You don’t pull away but adjust your face to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah” he breathes out. “...What if they don’t like me, we’ll still be together right?”

That question right there drops a bucketful of guilt over your head, but you know what you’re doing is right.

You pull away , after a second, letting your hands fall to each side of his neck.

"Of course Buck with or without approval you're still mine. Doesn't matter anyway, everyone will love you 'cause you're amazing." You smile, your fingers roaming over his very recently shaven under jaw.

“Thanks, doll”

“Nothing to thank me for” you give him one last squeeze, “You ready?”

“Yeah...I don’t know if I’ve told you, but you look really good today”

You wore nothing but a flowy, yellow, long sleeved surplice front dress and a pair of platform sandals.

“Stop trying to stall time!” You tease.

“I’m not. Promise I’m not” he throws his hands up in surrender, a bright smile on his face. As quick as he throws them up, they come down around your waist. “Ready when you are”

Having said that, Casual, black slacks hug his lengthy legs lackdasically. A short sleeve, white polo accentuates his waist, and his hair pulls back into a low bun.

It's so unbelonging to him. But the night before Bucky's been filling with worry about how he should dress to impress.

While you’re still standing between his bent legs and your fingers settle on his neck. You take one hand to pull the hair tie from his hair. Watching his curtains fall around his face

“Doll?—“

“I know you don’t wanna wear your hair like this, it’s fine. I promise Bucky they’ll love you.” You reassure him this time with a kiss, pulling away to entangle your fingers together.

When you go to close the door he holds up a finger. You watch him stand there hesitation on his face. Before he decides to shrug off the leather jacket and slip off his gloves.

His bionic arm is perfectly bare for anyone to see and you couldn’t be more proud when he sends a shy smile your way.

So soon, you’re both at the doorstep, hands linked together. You knock on the door.

“Coming!” The sound of your mom’s voice brings a smile to your face, but only makes Bucky’s nerves sky rocket.

When you hear the sound of the doorknob rattling, you give in at the last moment releasing the mutual hold of your hands. In nerves you miss the gaze and frown of Bucky–– more like brush off, but you play dumb for the sake of it all.

“Y/N––” your mother starts, voice dying and a gasp let out, looking like a guppy out of water when she sees the man standing beside you. Bucky seems none the wiser. Sure he expected some kind of reaction, not like his whole isn't on blast or anything.

She composes herself when she glances at you, but you only give her a hard stare. “Hello, I’m Lisa”

“I’m Bucky...I got these for you, y/n said these were your favorites” he outstretched a bouquet of plumerias.

“Oh...Thank you so much, very thoughtful. Come in” Lisa moves out the way and you let Bucky walk ahead of you. You’re about to cross the doorway when you feel weedy fingers clasp your upper arm.

“Are you out of your mind!” she whispers in your ear.

“Can you atleast get to know him first” you tell her, catching yourself up with Bucky.

When you both were walking to the front door. The music, screaming children, so much noise was everywhere. You weren't sure how there wasn't a noise complaint from neighbours.

When you and Bucky enter the backyard to most of your family. It's like the scene from Shrek when the Kingdom meets Shrek and Fiona, as the music and everyone quiets down. You wish were joking.

It wasn't hard to notice when everyone lit up at the sight of you and then saw the Winter Soldier right next to you.

Bucky was trying to be patient, he was, but it was tiring getting the same reaction when you introduced him to your family. He could understand the shock of being in the same room as a murderer–– no that isn't him anymore or was never him to begin with.

“And this is Bucky” every single time, that’s the line you used to introduce him.

Now you both are at a rounded table in the shade. Your sister is next to you and her boyfriend. Your aunt, her husband, and two of your closest cousins are around the table too. A plate of food in front of both of you, Bucky raves to your mom and aunt about how good the cooking is, warming your heart.

Other than that conversation flows like the sea, in a mismatched pattern. Your main priority being it doesn’t become too bare, but of course it all fails. But Bucky can only think about how the most affectionate one of the two (you) hasn’t tried to hold his hand once. Most likely isn’t appropriate to touch each other in front of her family, is what he comes up with.

“So Bucky, how are you adjusting?” your sister asks.

Oh god.

“It’s going well, not everyday is easy, but I have help” he responds, smiling down at you.

“Must be crazy how different times are, huh?” your uncle jumps in.

“Definitely” he chuckles “All the tech is cool. I will say I thought the prices before were outrageous, but nothing beats now.”

“I’ll say” your uncle agrees.

You sit back a grin on your face, enjoying the way conversation between everyone and Bucky flows. He was starting to get comfortable and your family was getting over their epiphany. He was making them––especially your uncle–– laugh which was an accomplishment in itself.

“Did you have a lot of family or siblings growing up, Bucky?” your sister asks.

You feel like you might lose your calm, why is she acting this way?

“Oh...uh. I think three. I know I had a little sister, Rebecca”

“You think?” the tilt in her voice doesn’t fly by you unnoticed. You flick her shoulder, mouthing a knock it off.

“When you’re under for so long things just start to fade y’know.” He informs her, a breathy laugh follows behind nervously as his leg bobs vigorously.

She definitely didn’t know. No one around this table could relate. Not something the average person goes through, but Bucky wasn’t thinking too much when he let the last bit out. Everyone could see the result of that with the silence that made its way back.

“How long have you guys known each other?” your aunt asks. You let out a breath of relief and gratitude.

“We’ve known each other for eight months” you answer.

You wish you could’ve taken Bucky’s words away next, “Dating for five” he publicized proudly.

You shrink into yourself at the wide eyes and wilting postures of everyone around you. Of course, at that moment your mom your mom walked over.

“Dating?!”

“You’re dating each other”

The shrill sound of their voices causes you to become more antsy.

At that moment, everything clicks for him as he turns towards you, but you don't look at him. Keeping your vision on the food on your plate.

“What?...Y/n.” you can hear the uncertainty in his voice when he calls out your name, but you won’t look at him and it’s pissing him off.

“Y/n. Do they not know we’re together?” he asks and when you finally look at him and see the furrow of his eyebrows and the lines between them. His lips in a thin line and the grip he has on the table, the guilt goes from a bucket of water to a whole tsunami.

Watching as your eyes wouldn't keep contact with him. Darting from his and to whatever was around him, is enough to answer his question. He stands up, he takes in how everyone gets startled and how your mother takes a step back.

He scoffs before making his way through the house, out the door, waiting for you outside.

You ignore the stares, keeping your head down. Rushing after Bucky. You find him standing against your car, arms crossed looking up at the sky. Taking notice of his clenched hands and the clinch of his jaw.

“Bucky––” you start lightly.

“I don’t want to talk right now” he swore, eyes staying ahead.

“Well I think we should...I didn’t tell them because I didn’t want them to judge you before getting to know the actual you?”

“Were you even there?” he questions astonished, his head whipping towards you, at your claim. “That’s bullshit and you know it”

“It’s not! You’re seeing this with tunnel vision! I just wanted them to see you for you first”

“You’re embarrassed by me! You didn’t even tell your ma––god y/n, I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“I’m not embarrassed!”

“You let go of my hand before we even walked in the house”

“Yeah so they wouldn’t know, so they could get to know you! Why aren’t you understanding?”

You're getting frustrated and you know your voices are less than quiet. Standing in the middle of the driveway like banshees.

“You know how this shit is for me...What? So if it was Steve or fucking Sam you were bringing you wouldn’t have told your family?”

“That’s different! they’re praised wherever they go, people don’t see my bucky first they see the winter soldier. I’m sorry, but it’s true I was just trying to protect you”

You try to hold back the tears on your face, your eyes stinging. With the way red rims his eyes, glazed over, and the rough breathing through his nose. You can tell he's trying to do the same.

“Take me home” he demanded, it was the end for him and he had no reason to keep hearing you spew these excuses.

“Buck?”

“I’m serious. Take me back to my apartment.” He looks away, the clue that you were going to bring him home were your footsteps distancing.

You walk back in the house with a huff, making a beeline to the table where your bag and keys were. Thankful that the table was scarce except for your sister who watched you pick your things up, like mad. Her hand comes down on your phone when you go to grab it.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re leaving?” she asks.

“Of course, I’m leaving Daisy. He wants to go home, no thanks to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you, what was up with your awful questions?” you question her.

“Excuse me for being surprised that my little sister brought an assassin to a family reunion. Let alone dating him?” she tells you, standing her ground.

She's always been protective of you and you can understand that. Shifting the blame towards her won't do any good between you and Bucky anyway. But, you've also had enough and need to find a way to fix things.

“I’ll call you later, tell mom I said bye” you tell her, taking a brisk glance.

You both sat knee deep in silence. Everytime you tried to take a glance at Bucky he only looked ahead, saying nothing. Hand raising up, time to time, to wipe away a tear or two . When you were at a red light or stop sign , it gave you a chance to turn your head. But, everytime you tried to take a proper look at him he'd look out the window. Leaving you to turn your head back, your grip on the wheel tight.

The moment you arrive at his complex and put the car in park, he hops out of the car. Never looking back, only grumbling, “Don’t bother calling. We’re done.”

“Bucky!” but the door slams shut and he ignores whatever you have to say.

He meant that with every being in his heart. Any time you tried to call he let it ring until it came to the point where he blocked your number. You got the hint and hadn’t seen him since.

i’ve been sitting on this for sooo long, ofc my first bucky fic is angst

if you enjoyed this pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it<3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years

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Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance."

"What?"

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—"

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-"

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

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Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

��Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

#answered #ninjago #tlnm #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #slight blood tw #i just. have a lot of feelings about friends #and a lot of thoughts about how the movie!ninja put each other on pedestals #not in an inherently bad way but #i think they all think so much of each other #they forget they're human #and that leads to fallout #anyways! movie bros T-T #my fic #masterofswag213

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hopelesshawks · 4 years

Text

History of Us Part 13- Your Fathers’ Children

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Warning for canon typical violence

Masterlist Kofi

“Don’t tell me I gotta compete with Shinso now too,” Sero groans as he leans over your shoulder. “Aww, scared of a little competition?” you tease him. “No but if you could be a little less alluring that’d be great. It’s hard enough trying to compete with Denki,” Sero jokes. “Who even said Shinso is a suitor? Maybe he just wants to be friends.” “A suitor? Don’t make this sound like the 1800s or something and we’re fighting for your hand in marriage.” “Don’t act like it and I won’t!”

Shoto watches you joking and laughing with Sero from a few rows behind, something angry simmering in him. Sero’d been beaten by Kirishima in the round of 16, so now he’s free to flirt and joke around with you as much as he’d like between your rounds. Denki is currently holding his own against Bakugo but after their battle concludes he’s sure Denki will similarly hover around you. The more he thinks about it the more it annoys him. A small voice in the back of his head reminds him your distrust of him largely stems from his own actions whereas Sero and Denki have done nothing wrong. In fact they’d reacted to the news of your father exactly the way he should have all those years ago. Round after round starts and ends and Shoto pays no attention to any of them except for yours, too caught up in looking at you and wishing he was the one making you laugh like that. His own matches are a blur, even when he faces Midoriya in the semi finals. By the time he’s been declared the victor he realizes he can barely remember any of it. As he helps his friend up off the ground, Midoriya gives him a concerned look. “Are you ok Todoroki? I haven’t seen you that pissed since our first year,” he asks. “Yea, I’m fine,” Todoroki lies, determinedly not looking at the stands.

He doesn’t want to risk looking up and seeing you laughing with the others instead of watching him.

The next round is you and Bakugo and you’ve already descended to the tunnel by the time Shoto’s returned to his seat. Watching you and Bakugo once you begin is mesmerizing in its ferocity. You both respect each other too much to hold back and the amount of firepower you both are executing in your own ways is devastating. Shoto can’t help but wince when you hit the ground particularly hard and he’s sure you must’ve broken something but before Bakugo can land on top of you to pin you down you roll out of the way and stagger back to your feet, giving just as good as you got. It’s too bad the two of you met up in the semi finals in all honesty. It’s a devastatingly close match through the end but Shoto sees the exact moment both you and Bakugo realize you’re going to win. Cementoss looks like he’s a second away from calling a halt as you pin Bakugo down, your forearm to his throat as he attempts to blast it off, looking almost feral as you use your quirk to hold yourself down on top of him. It’s the longest five seconds anyone in the stadium has experienced. Finally the airhorn blows to signal the end of the fight. You ease off immediately, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You stand back up gingerly before reaching down to help Bakugo up. Shoto expects the blonde to smack the hand away but to his surprise Bakugo accepts the hand up and only manages to scowl at you for a moment before he gives you an almost feral grin, saying something that makes you laugh although it’s impossible for Shoto to hear it from where he’s sitting. You wince as the laugh aggravates one of your injuries and Bakugo rolls his eyes before helping you off the field.

Nezu announces that you’ll be given twenty minutes to recover before they have the final. After about five Bakugo comes back up to the stands. “Damn Kacchan didn’t expect to see you knocked out before the finals,” Denki teases. “Shut the fuck up Pikachu, (y/n)’s the only one of you idiots that had a shot against me,” Bakugo scoffs. “Is she good?” Mina asks and to everyone’s surprise Bakugo barks out a laugh. “Oh she’s fine but she’s pissed,” he snickers. “What why?” Jiro asks. “They’re letting the kid help recovery girl with injuries and she accidentally rewinded (y/n)’s hair back to its natural color too. The two finalists are gonna match,” Bakugo explains, causing several heads to swivel to Shoto as if trying to picture what you’ll look like with half white hair. “I’m going to prepare,” Shoto says, quickly standing and leaving his classmates and their gazes behind.

Time passes quickly and before Shoto knows it it’s time for the finals to start. He walks out to the cheers of the crowd and moves to the start. Shortly afterwards you emerge from the opposite tunnel. He sucks in a surprised breath when he sees you. A memory surfaces of the two of you being six and begging Fuyumi to take a photo of the two of you before your fathers returned from work. You had insisted on standing on Shoto’s right side. He can practically hear you whining “Sho-chan our white sides need to be touching! The mom sides!” He’s shaken from the memory when he notices you’re not looking at him but behind him. He turns to see what could possibly hold your attention right now and sees you’ve locked eyes with his father who’s standing at the railing with his arms crossed. The melancholy the memory had brought forth was swiftly and suddenly swept away by a burning rage. The moment “start” is called Shoto lashes out with his left side, scorching flames shooting in your direction that you just barely manage to dodge. “Of course you started with your flames,” you scoff as you retaliate but he manages to dodge as he begins to close the distance between the two of you. You prepare yourself for an ice blast but are surprised as he instead chooses to tackle you, you’re quick to make sure he doesn’t have you pinned, both of you rolling along the ground. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” he spits out as he tries to freeze you in place. “Excuse me!?” you reply incredulously finally managing to push away from him before launching your own counter. “You heard me,” he responds, his voice sounding almost lethal despite his even tone. “How, pray tell, am I a hypocrite?” you question as your quirk responds to your growing outrage at the accusation. Shadow and fire meet and begin to swirl around the two of you, creating a vortex that whips your hair around your face. “You go on and on about not wanting to be defined by your father yet you have done nothing but define me in terms of mine since you got here,” he accuses. “You chose to align yourself with him, not me!” you spit back. “Bullshit!” “Fuck you!” You both dive at each other, the sports festival all but forgotten to you both as you each continue to lash out. “I am not my father,” Shoto bites out. “Nor am I!” you fire back. “I have never once thought you were!” “Then why were you afraid of me!” you finally sob out. “What?” Shoto asks stunned. You’ve got him pressed flat against the dirt beneath you but the vortex continues to swirl around, hiding you both from view as Shoto stops fighting back. “Is that what he told you?” Shoto presses. “I mean it was understandable I guess but I just.... I thought if anyone would know that my father being a monster didn’t make me one, it would be you,” you confess. “I have never been afraid of you,” Shoto tells you and as your (y/e/c) eyes meet his blue and gray ones you can see the honesty there.

Only then do the two of you seem to realize how much your quirks have spiraled out of control. Your arm is burning where it touches Shoto’s left side which has been burning consistently since the two of you had started your shouting match. The black veins have expanded well past your forearm, up your neck, and onto your face. You realize Shoto’s overheating, if the sweat pouring down his face is any indication. Both of you have tears on your cheeks, although you can’t be certain when either of you started crying. As your emotions calm down and you both process what’s been said the swirling vortex slowly dies down and dissipates. The countdown starts as the two of you finally become visible to the anxious audience but Shoto makes no move to push you off. Instead the two of you just stare at each other as all of the hurt and anger finally drains out of you both. The airhorn blows to signal your victory but neither of you notice. “I’m sorry,” you breathe out, chest still heaving from exertion. “I’m sorry too,” Shoto responds and next thing you know you’re both laughing incredulously with relief, as if a thousand pound weight has been lifted for the first time in a decade. You roll off of him to starfish out next to him on his right side as you’re both racked by the laughing fit. Considering the display of violence you’d both just presented it’s probably a disconcerting sight, but neither of you can help it, too giddy with relief. When the laughter finally subsides to hiccuping giggles you both turn your heads to look at each other.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too Sho-chan.”

A/N: When (y/n) and Shoto were trapped inside the vortex everyone was freaking out cause they couldn't tell what was happening. Cementoss thought they should end it before things escalated any further but Aizawa told him to just let it be. Present Mic then questioned why all the feral students end up in Aizawa's class and Aizawa just kinda grinned in response kjhbadvehf

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @mindofess @todoplusultra @oliviasslut

#hopelesshou #shoto torodoki #shoto smau #shoto x reader #shoto x fem!reader #shoto x y/n #todoroki smau #todoroki x reader #todoroki x fem!reader #todoroki x y/n

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 16

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It was 2006, one of the last seasons for Beacon Hills Girls lacrosse. The other girls on the team and I fought hard but it would be over by the time my senior year rolled around. We thought if we had made it to the state championships, we would save it. Here’s to hoping. As team captain, all eyes were on me to make the season great. We were lined up on the field, ready for the toss up. I stared into the eyes of the opposing player, the girl’s eyes were determined. But so were mine, I glanced to the side at the bleachers. There was Uncle Noah, Stiles, and Scott, cheering me on. I was just happy Stiles came today.

I looked back up, just in time for the pearl toss, I scooped it from the air, immediately shoving passed the opposing player. I ran down the field, narrowly missing players looking to tackle. I threw the ball towards an open offensive player just as someone slammed me from the side. I grunted as I hit the ground, hearing the crowd wince. I got myself up on my arms and looked down the field. My player was able to get through the other team’s defense and scored the game winning goal. Coach Finstock laughed loudly, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. I stood up, raising my crosse in the air and shouted into the sky. I ran back to the bench, congratulating my teammates. But now I needed to see him. I pushed through the crowd, I looked around. As I got through the crowd, I was left alone. I was staring out into the woods. An eerie feeling came over me. There was something out there.

“Hey!” Michael’s smiling face came into my vision, causing me to smile.

“Hey.” I smiled, looking back at the crowd, “Have you seen Derek?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at me, “Who’s Derek?” I paused, asking myself the same question.

“I don’t know.”

“So let me get this straight,” I said into the phone. I was on the phone with Stiles getting a recap of what had happened over the last couple days, “You stole a police transport vehicle-”

“We put gas in it!”

“Of course, you did. You stole a transport van, filled it with gas, kidnapped Jackson to talk to him, left him in the woods. Jackson’s father, a lawyer, has issued two restraining orders against you and Scott.” I made sure to separate the kanima and Jackson. “Found out the kanima is being used by a ‘master’. Is that it?” Derek raised his eyebrows at the conversation.

“I was also grounded from Scott.” He added.

“Unfortunate.”

“When are you coming home?” He asked, hushing his voice a little, “I’m all for you living out your best werewolf life but I would rather you be home.” I motioned for the group of Derek, Erica, and Isaac to go ahead of me.

“When I have the courage to face your dad. Or when my lie that I’m staying at a friend’s house doesn’t work anymore. Whatever comes first.” I sighed, “I’ll try to come home soon. I need to apologize.” After our goodbyes, I hung up the phone.

After I stepped into the railway car, I made it just in time for our “pack meeting” to start.

“So, why do we need their help?” Isaac asked.

“Because it’s harder to kill than I thought, and I still don’t know who it is.” Derek said impatiently.

“And they do?”

“They might. Which is why I need one of you to get on their good side.”

“Mmm. Scott or Stiles?” Erica hummed flirtatiously. Honestly, I don’t think she realizes she’s barking up the wrong tree, no pun intended. Scott was more focused on Allison than his own life and Stiles was in a persistent pursuit of Miss Lydia Martin.

“Either.” Derek sighed, probably fed up with her new found flirtatious nature.

“Good luck with that.” I said under my breath, causing the group to look at me, “What? The last time they saw you, you broke into Scott’s house and tried to kill them.” Isaac titled his head to the side and nodded a little in agreement.

Isaac turned to Derek, “You know, the full moon's coming, Derek.”

"I'm aware of that.” Derek said irritably, he opened a large wooden chest, searching around for something. He pulled out dark, rusted chains.

“Oh my.” Erica lifted up a bundle of them, “These look comfortable.” She said sarcastically. He quickly took them from her grasp and put them with the rest that he pulled out of the chest.

“You said you were gonna teach us to change whenever we wanted.” Isaac said warily, eyeing the chains.

“There hasn't been time.” He said. And truly he hadn’t had time. I had really been training myself on how to control the chains with what I was calling exposure therapy. Getting really mad and controlling the change before turning so I would be less likely to kill someone during a spout of road rage.

“But if you have to lock us up during the full moon, that means... That means you're alone against the Argents.” Isaac said.

Derek closed the lid of the chest, “They haven't found us.”

“Yet.“ Kid had a point, “So, how about we forget about the Kanima?”

“We. Can't!” He shouted in frustration. He sighed, “There was something about the way Gerard looked at it... He wasn't afraid, at all. I don't know what he knows, or what he's planning. But, I'm sure about one thing-- we have to find it, first.”

“With Scott’s group.” I added, “We are stronger in numbers, that’s how the hunters work and that’s how we should work.”

On the drive home to the Stilinski house, I really had to convince myself not to turn back around and go back to the depot. But Uncle Noah deserved an apology. He had taken me in, given me a fresh start and asked that I be safe in return. Yet here I was, fighting a lizard man with the threat of hunters on my tail, not to mention that I was a movie monster. I parked in the driveway next to his police cruiser and closed my eyes. My emotions were running high and it was hard to keep my eyes from turning red.

“Breathe.” Derek’s voice echoed through my head, “It’s going to be okay.”

I took a deep breath in and out and when I opened my eyes, the red was gone. Now or never.

After closing the front door behind me, I walked quietly into the kitchen where I found him. He was leaning against the counter and sipping a cup of coffee. He looked exhausted. He looked up from his cup a little surprised.

“(Y/N)...”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek before answering, “Uncle Noah...”

“Is...Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I said quickly, “Everything’s....” I let out a deep breath, “Everything’s not fine. I’m so sorry about the things I said.”

He smiled a little, “It’s fine.”

“It-It’s not fine though. You’re just looking out for me, I should appreciate that more. You’ve done more than anyone in my situation could have asked for. You opened up your home, bought me clothes, gave me my own room. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, no.” He said, setting down his coffee mug, “I did have to do that. Besides promising your parents that I would look after you, I did this because you’re like one of my own. You’re like the daughter I never had. I love you.” His eyes held a special twinkle. One that you could only find in people that truly loved you.

Tears prickled at my eyes, my lips trembling, “I love you too.”

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. I gripped onto the material of his shirt and cried. The first time I had really cried since everything happened with my parents. It just felt like my eyes had been built up and after a while, I was crying because of Uncle Noah, because of my parents, because of the torture I went through. I felt like I had no one to vent to like how I could my mom and dad because they weren’t here anymore. It felt nice to cry and feel safe because I knew that Uncle Noah loved me, no matter what. I just wished that if me being a werewolf did come out, he would still love me like his own. Even the thought of it scared me.

“It’s alright.” Uncle Noah stroked my hair, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “Everything gonna be okay.”

But it’s not okay.

Just a drive to clear my head, that’s all I needed. Stiles was ringing my phone off the hook which really wasn’t helping with my anxiety right now. I looked over to reach for my phone and when I looked back there was someone standing in the middle of the road.

“SHIT!” I screamed, turning my wheel harshly, sending me off the road and into a ditch. I slammed on the brakes, making my body slam forward into the steering wheel. I felt the cracking of my ribs against the hard plastic of the wheel. Pain washed over me in waves as I tried to catch my bearings. I felt dizzy and nauseous on account of the whiplash. I looked back towards the road and the mystery person was gone. It was around that time that my airbag went off, slapping me in the face.

“Nice.” I grunted, opening up my car door. I turned to look out when I froze. The kanima was staring me right in the eyes. But it didn’t make any sense, unless the kanima can turn without moonlight.

“Jackson...” I whispered, “Jackson, if you’re in there I need you to listen to me.” I swallowed, watching the creature tilt his head to the side. It seemed to recognize my voice.

“I can help you, Jackson. I don’t want to hurt you. Just please... Don’t...”

“(Y/N)...” The creature’s voice said. I didn’t even know it was capable of speech. But the voice wasn’t exactly reptilian, as if that was possible. It wasn’t Jackson’s voice either. It was a voice that seemed so familiar, but not.

“Well... That’s not good.” I said, just starting to move to get to the other side of the car when I felt Jackson’s whip-like tail slice across my side.

“God....dammit.” My voice was strained since my entire body became paralyzed within seconds. The creature reached out, pulling me out of the car.

Ah yes, a roadside killing for the kanima, how wonderful. Okay, maybe thoughts like this weren’t the best. This is how I died, alone on the side of the road. I took a deep breath, watching the world go by as Jackson’s scaly hands dragged me down into the ditch further.

A loud roar cut through the air and I felt Jackson drop me, hissing before I heard him take off into the woods. Derek’s face filled my vision and relief washed over me.

“It’s alright, I got you.” He said, picking me in his arms. I saw my car out of the corner of my eye.

“Is she totaled?” I asked.

“No, she’s fine.” He chuckled, “Your transmissions probably shot though.”

“Awesome.” I groaned, closing my eyes.

- By the time I woke up, it was later in the day and I was back home on the couch. With Derek and Uncle Noah... talking. My eyes widened and I sat up, I hissed in pain and laid back down. My head was still killing me.

“Woah, slow down there, kid.” Uncle Noah came to my side, kneeling down beside me on the couch. He smiled and smoothed back my hair from my face, “I thought I told you when you saw a deer in the road, you can’t swerve. Just slow down and if you hit it, you hit it. It’s sad, but there are more deer, there’s only one you.” I glanced up at Derek, who had his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed not at all concerned around Uncle Noah.

Uncle Noah followed my line of sight and smiled, “It’s okay, secret’s out.” My heart almost stopped, why in the hell would Derek tell him I was a werew-

“And it’s okay. I am... okay with you seeing Derek.” I blinked at him.

“What?”

“Is that where you’ve been? At a friend’s house.” He stood up and chuckled, patting Derek on the shoulder, “Derek, here, explained it all to me.”

“I told him that you didn’t want to disappoint him by dating someone who was a murder suspect.” Derek said, smiling a bit at the sheriff.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine now. Just for the future, you can always tell me anything. No matter what.” He smiled reassuringly. Well... I guess that was one thing out of the way.

“Your car’s in the shop, it’ll be there a day or two. So for now, Derek has volunteered to take you to work.” Uncle Noah smiled, then looked down at his phone, “I gotta take this.” He excused himself from the room and left out the front door. I sat back up again, looking up at Derek’s with my eyebrows raised.

“How did that whole situation go?” Referring to ex-con Derek Hale telling the chief of police that he is dating his pseudo-daughter while she was unconscious in his arms.

Derek shrugged, coming to sit on the edge of the couch, “Well, I was threatened with the gun at first. But after explaining some things... He understood.” He reached out, holding my hand, “He also said he was glad that we were friends again.”

“Does that mean my parents told him that I wasn’t friends with you anymore and not to bring you up?”

“Seems like it.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles.

“God.” I breathed out, feeling tension rising in my shoulders, “I understand why they did what they did but... They had a total disregard of the consequences. What were they going to say when I asked what happened to you, would they tell me they told you to go away or would they lie again? A majority of my life was stolen from me and when I try to remember my old lacrosse games where you could have been there... The only face I see is Michael’s. And I think he knew something.”

“We’re gonna figure it out.” He said. I moved closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

Derek then explained the events of the dad, the kanima attacked Scott, Stiles, Erica, and Allison in detention and he had agreed to not kill the creature.

“Why did the kanima go after me? Why didn’t he kill me immediately.”

“You don’t have to cover for him anymore, I know it’s Jackson.”

I sighed, “Good, because I didn’t like keeping it from you.”

“Yeah, why did you keep it from me?” He asked, looking down at me.

I gave him a surprised look, “Well, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you would have killed him? Yeah, he’s a douchebag, but that’s a little much. From what you said, finding out Jackson was adopted at birth and that he literally had to be removed from his mother’s dead body... Maybe that’s what caused the bite to mutate.”

“It’s possible.” The sound of the door slamming shut and the sound of familiar awkward footsteps made us both look up. Stiles halted in the living room, looking me over. I’m sure I looked like a wreck, still kinda felt like it, but the cracked ribs and head injury had healed by now.

Stiles pressed his lips together tightly, moving with purpose. He fell to his knees in front of the couch, wrapping his arms around me. Trying not to cry for the second time today, I hugged him, resting my cheek on top of his head.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. Stiles hold tightened at my words but he didn’t say anything. Derek nodded at me, making his way out of the house. Leaving Stiles and I alone.

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

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Sacrifice

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

Warnings: Blood, Language, Kidnapping, Typos

Words: 5.5K

Chapter 15: Sacrifice

Words: 5.5K You and Tom didn’t know how to react. You wanted to scream and cry but inside you knew that wouldn’t solve anything. Causing a fit would only give Carter the satisfaction he was looking for. To break the Holland family. Your only daughter had just been taken from you and being held for ransom by some miscreant.

Every time you got a call about Parker and Rosie hurt or missing, you wonder what would’ve happened if you left the mob and took them with you a long time ago. Leading you down a long path of misery and regret.

You didn’t want to take Tom away from his kids but, you never wanted this life for them. You had an image of your idyllic family when you were young, dreaming of your husband coming home everyday after work to your kids, two boys and one girl. Sometimes life doesn’t plan how you wanted it to but, the love you had found is irreplaceable.

Not marrying Tom would have had it’s advantages of not constantly looking over your shoulder. Or scared to death he will come home bruised and beaten or worse, not come home at all. A lifetime without pain but one without your best friend. Tom was the person you wanted to share everything with. He was the one who would let you vent about the stupidest little things. Usually something annoying the kids did, you were the main person with them from ages 0-14. Dealing with everything from runny noses to school projects.

You and Tom knew you could survive anything as long as you continued to love each other but everything that was happening at that moment was new feat. There weren’t guarantees that you would get Rosie back. Praying she wouldn’t come home in a body bag. Thoughts like these always plagued your mind. Especially when Parker was in the hospital after being almost beaten to death.

Losing Rosie was too much, too much you didn’t even want to think about it. If she didn’t come home, you didn’t know where you could go from there. Everything will have lost its meaning. The things you once adored, would offer no importance, including Tom. Your future together seemed bleak if he couldn’t do the one thing he always said he would, protect his family.

You were another story. Sure you didn’t appreciate waking up in a hospital bed. Being blinded by the white lights after some horrific accident but it was you. You knew you were strong and could take care of yourself. But when it came to your kids, all bets were off.

The main focus of everyone was finding Rosie safe. Parker and Haz came back home with an unconscious Henry in Haz’s arms. But no sign of Rosie. Tom was adamant to find out why Carter was targeting Parker.

“Parker what did you do? Carter Wilson is the one who took Rosie,” Tom asked Parker as he walked in along with Haz.

“Who’s Carter Wilson?” Parker questioned.

“Angus Wilson’s son. I ask again, what did you do?” badgered Tom.

“The night of the heist.—“ Parker started but was cut off.

“What heist? My heist? The one on at my casino? That was you?”

“Yeah, we are off topic. We can talk about it later…. So that night I went to tell Wilson I was quitting and then he started running his mouth about how he was the one who killed Charlotte and caused your and mom’s helicopter crash. I couldn’t take it anymore and I snapped,” Parker explained.

“Don’t tell me you killed him,” Tom announced as he shot daggers at Parker.

“I did. You don’t understand. I couldn’t let him get away with everything,” Parker mumbled, Tom’s disappoint washed over him like a wave.

“Holy fuck. Parker how could you be so stupid? Now this guy is out for your head. And he has Rosie.”

“I know dad. I KNOW. I have to fix this,” Parker vocalized.

“No, Parker. You’ve done enough. I can’t lose both my kids. Your mother won’t be able to handle it either. All we can do is treat her kidnapping with money and offer a ransom,” Tom bellowed.

“Dad I’m going,” Parker barked.

“No you are not,” Tom snapped back.

“Why not? A few days ago you couldn’t even look at me. I doubt you’d miss me if I was gone….We can’t just let her die. This is my fault. I caused this. Let me fix it. Let me save Rosie,” Parker pleaded.

“We won’t. She’s not going to die,” Tom asserted.

“If you show up, to wherever she is, without me, he’ll kill her on the spot.” Parker barked. Tom noticed how you turned white as sheet at the mention of ‘death’ and Rosie’s name in the same sentence. Tom begged to comfort you, but he knew it wouldn��t do any good if Tom couldn’t bring Rosie home.

“Y/N, why don’t you go lie down. I promise I’ll get her back, darling,” Tom mentioned as he saw you look broken hearted. Just staring into an imaginary abyss.

“Tom, don’t make promises you can’t keep. Parker, please listen to you dad for once. He’s right, we, I can’t lose both you and Rosie,” you sniffled. Your eyes stained red from crying yourself dry.

“What choice do we have? How are you going to get her back? He made it very clear he only wants one thing, me,” Parker shouted, tried of Tom not trying hard enough.

“END OF DISCUSSION!!! Now go to your room,” Tom growled.

“But dad!” Parker shouted

“No buts. I won’t hear anymore of this,” Tom concluded. “Let the grown ups handle it. I’m sorry Parker but, I won’t lose anyone else.” Tom finished, pushing Parker out of his office and closing the door. Maybe Parker inadvertently kidnapped Rosie, by going after Wilson but Tom had to finish. He needed to prove to himself and you that he could protect his family.

Rosie had no recollection of how she got there. She was sitting tied to chair, wrists and ankles bound, in a huge room with cold crisp air prickling her skin, giving her goosebumps. Her head pounded in her ears, throbbing too much to let her close her eyes.

“Rosie, darling. Wake up. I have big plans for you my dear,” Carter said, gliding over to Rosie tied in a chair, tearing the burlap sack off of her head.

He put two fingers on her chin, to force her to make eye contact. Rosie had been beaten and battered. Her skin stained red from tight ropes around her wrists and ankles. Tears had stopped coming, having cried all of them.

Rosie had given up hope that anyone was coming. She didn’t know if Henry was alive, last seeing him lying an alley.

“Please let me go. I don’t have what you want,” Rosie said, refusing to open her eyes and come face to face with her assailant. “Oh, I know that. But you will help me get him,” spoke Carter, revealing his face.

“If you’re talking about my dad. You’ll never take him alive. He’ll kill you before you even get the chance to load your gun,” Rosie asserted.

“No, I mean the Holland you share a birthday with,” Carter laughed off.

“What do you want with Parker?” Rosie questioned.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Carter finished, covering her face once more with a bag.

Back at the mansion, night had fallen and Tom and Harrison along with several other soldiers were held up in Tom’s office developing a rescue plan. Tom had been doing everything in his power, mostly throwing vast amounts of money to Carter as ransom.

Tom was frustrated that he couldn’t do anything. Not knowing Rosie’s location or Carter’s demands, besides giving up his son, Tom’s hands were tied. More like amputated with a machete, Tom felt helpless.

“Tom, another video from Carter just came through,” Haz informed Tom, playing the video on his computer.

“I don’t even want to look at it. Just tell me if she’s dead or not,” Tom whispered, rubbing his eyes. It was a video of Carter torturing Rosie. Tom wished he could trade places with her. If he could he would in heartbreak.

“I don’t know what more persuasion I can give you. I already have you daughter, now hand him over. Or poor, pretty Rosie over here is going to have a hard time breathing,” Carter reckoned.

“Ohhh, Rosie,” Carter motioned. “Your daddy’s watching. Why don’t you smile pretty for him.”

“Dad, please. Please save me.” Rosie pleaded before her head was plunged in a bucket of frigid water. Carter held her down long enough to where her lungs started to fill up with water but she didn’t stop breathing.

Her pulled her head out forcibly. Rosie came up, gasping for air. She coughed up all the inhaled water. Carter repeated this process three times, each time broke Tom’s heart even more.

Carter needed to show him he meant business.“You have until midnight to bring me Parker. This is your finally warning. Rosie we will learn how much you family truly loves you,” Carter concluded shutting off the video.

“Haz, I have a plan. It involves everyone. I need you to stay here and take care of Y/N. Even if I don’t come back, make sure she is okay. Don’t let her cry over me too much and tell her I love her one more time,” Tom pleaded, he didn’t want to leave you. But sometimes people don’t have a choice.

“Tom, tell her yourself. You’ll be here to take care of her. I’m sure of it. Along with everyone else, okay? But while you are gone I promise to keep her safe.”

“Always looking on the bright side, huh?” Tom quipped.

“I think I got it from Henry. Takes a lot to bring that kid down. Even in this life,” Haz chuckled.

He knew not having Rosie anymore would break him though. Harrison remembers how mopey Henry was when he and Rosie broke up. Refusing to do his chores and waking up late on purpose for school so he wouldn’t have to go.

Haz had never a found a love like that. One where you would put yourself in harms way just so the other wouldn’t even feel and inch of pain. The kind of love, he knew Tom and you had and only hoped Rosie and Henry had.

He couldn’t imagine if Henry had to experience the same type of pain Parker did. Losing Charlotte broke Parker, he was never the same after.

Parker made his way to the guest room, where Henry was recuperating after his concussion. Henry was the only person he could talk to. Everyone would just brush him off and not even give him the chance to make amends. Parker knew Rosie was tangled up in this because of him.

“Henry, I need to talk to you. You awake?” Parker whispered through the door.

“Come in,” Henry responded, Parker surprised he heard him.

“Hey, mate. How ya feeling?” Parker asked, walking into the room very stealthily.

“Shitty physically, shitty emotionally. I let them take her. I should’ve protected her,” Henry lamented, trying to not let the tears that pricked at his eyes fall.

“It’s in the past now. All we can do is try and get her back,” Parker assured. There isn’t really time to dwell on past events. Especially zeros time for what ifs.

“How? You’re being watched like a hawk. We all are.” Henry questioned, but if he knew his best friend at all. Nothing ever stopped him.

“I have a plan,” Parker concluded, explaining everything.

You had been resting in your room, ever since Tom banished you from his office. You understood he was just trying to protect you but it only drove you more insane. Not knowing everything, all the uncertainty was eating you alive.

You sat up in bed trying to fall asleep or at least let your mind stray away from everything long enough to close your eyes. You perked up as Tom walked into the closet, not giving you so much as a glance.

“Tom, are you coming to bed?” You asked as Tom came in your room for a change of clothes.

“I’m afraid not, love. I’ll say good night here. Night sweetheart. I’ll bring her home, please don’t worry,” Tom explained, kissing your forehead.

“If you say so. Good night.” Tom noticed how broken you seemed.

He desperately wanted to hold you and comfort you but he knew it wouldn’t do any good until he brought Rosie home. If he didn’t, he was uncertain of where that left you and him. But he couldn’t let these grim thoughts plague his mind.

Not even 20 minutes later, Parker walked through your door. Right as you were about to shut your eyes. “Mom, I just want to apologize for how I was acting earlier. I’m just scared we won’t get her back.”

“Baby, it’s ok. I am too. But you have to understand, I can’t lose you too.… Wait? Why are you dressed? No. Honey, I know what you are going to do but you can’t,” you cautioned, noticing Parker’s outfit.

“Mom, I can’t let Rosie die knowing I could’ve done something to stop it. I can’t let you stop me.” He said, backing up towards the door to your room.

“Parker, don’t do this. No. No, no no.” you barked as he shut the doors and locked them from the outside.

“I’m sorry mom, I really am. I’ll miss you.” Parker emitted through the shut doors.

“Open these doors, now! Parker get back here! PARKERRRR!!! TOMMMMM!!!” You screamed. They really locked you in your fucking room. Those bastards.

“This is fucking ridiculous. Someone let me out.” You shouted, banging on the door from the inside.

Parker and Henry made their way downstairs, first stopping in the gun room to load up on ammo. Henry had never shot a gun before, well not as much as Parker. Henry was more of the getaway driver. Parker grabbed the keys of the Rolls Royce, even if it was a rescue mission, it will be done in style.

In the garage they were greeted with Tom, loading up the trunk.

“Dad what are you doing here?” Parker asked, hoping he won’t be berated for sneaking out for the hundredth time.

“The same thing you are, going to get Rosie. Thanks for the distraction by the way, would’ve never been able to get passed your mother. How did you convince her?” Tom question, a little surprised that he was able to get passed you.

“I locked her in her room,” Parker mumbled, knowing it shouldn’t have done it but what choice did he have.

“Pfft, oh god. That’s one way to do it,” Tom chuckled at the thought of you locked in your room, like you were in a time out.

“Alright, boys. We have one mission, get Rosie and get out. I won’t be coming with bad news okay?”

“Understood. The Wilsons have taken too much from me. I won’t let them take my sister too.”

“Well said, makes me feel like we are in a movie.” Henry mocked, Parker’s statement.

“Everyone in the car. Seatbelts.” Tom announced as everyone hoped in.

Both Parker and Henry looked at him with an expression of ‘Are you kidding me?’

“What? I’m still concerned for your safety,” Tom concluded pulling out of the estate and embarking to the address Rosie was at.

All the while everyone was risking their lives, you were trapped in your god damm room. The nerve Parker had. You knew it had an influence from Tom.

“I know someone is out there. You can at least answer.” You whispered, voice hoarse from yelling. Yet no one answered, making you believe you were utterly alone.

After a few minutes a voice spoke, “Hi Y/N/N.” It was the voice of Haz.

Over the years you had grown very close to Haz. You would even call him your best friend. He was there for all the big moments. The birth of the twins, someone had to drive you to the hospital and when Tom proposed to you. And of course he was here now. When you needed someone the most.

All you could think about were worst case scenarios. Concerning Rosie, Parker, Tom, even Henry. Everyone had left you alone, you couldn’t even make them stay. The fear of losing them was too much.

“Haz, how could you let them do this to me?” You cried as tears streamed down your face.

“I’m sorry. I had to respect Tom’s wishes,” Haz murmured.

“You didn’t even go, but you let your son. Tom and Parker left with Henry to risk their lives and need to be there…I have to be there. I can’t lose all of them…Haz, I can’t…. I can’t breathe,” you exasperated. The air in then room growing more thin as you hyperventilated.

“Oh my god, I’m coming in. Are you okay?… What the—?” Harrison immediately unlocked the door to come to your aide. Worried he’d find you passed out or something.

Quite the opposite, you were standing there dressed in all black, with a pistol in your hands pointing at the only person standing in your way.

“I need to know where they went,” you said, cocking the gun, directly pointed at his chest.

“Y/N, don’t.” Haz whispered, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry Haz. I really am. But I can’t let Parker do this. Where’d they go?” You asked with an unchanging expression.

“Some warehouse on Adams Ave and 3rd Street. That’s all I know.” Haz said, closing his eyes, knowing Tom will have his head for letting you trick him.

“That’ll do. Thank you. I really don’t want you to follow me,” You mumbled, realizing what you had to do.

“Just get it over with.” Haz commented, holding his hands out to be bounded.

“I’m sorry but this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you,” you apologized as you tied his ankles to chair legs.

“I seriously doubt that. Please make sure Henry gets home safe. Wait, where’d you get these handcuffs,” Haz said as he was bounded to the chair. He soon realized what he was bound with. The hot pink fluffy handcuffs around his wrists were meant to only be used by you and Tom.

“Umm, you don’t want to know and I promise I will.”

“Gross, Y/N. Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Harrison made a face of pure disgust.

“I could say the same to you. Wait, Tom probably hid all the keys. Can I?” You said as you shoved a clean sock as a gag. So he couldn’t scream.

“Take them and go,” he concluded as you pulled the gag out and told you where his car keys were.

“Thank you. I’ll be back with everyone. I promise,” You said, pressing you lips to his cheek before you placed the gag between his teeth.

You quickly hopped into Haz’s jeep and jetted off. Trying to get there, soon enough to stop Tom, Parker and Henry.

At the Carter’s warehouse, Rosie couldn’t shake the taste of blood on her tongue. Carter had gotten a few licks in. A harsh slap to her right cheek, leaving a faint imprint. She couldn’t even soothe it, still restrained rather harshly. The ropes digging into her skin.

“You better hope they get here. And love you as much as they claim they do. Are you sure they didn’t forget about you. For your safe return, I’m asking big. Your brother needs to turn himself over to me,” Carter exclaimed. Rosie tensed at Carter’s ask. She can’t and wouldn’t let Parker die for her. Her face said it all. An expression of pure worry washed over her.

“Ah, there it is. That look. Deep down you know he isn’t coming. You’re more expendable than the golden boy of the Hollands and you’ve known it for years. Save your breath sweetheart. You are an afterthought, just like me,” Carter grinned.

“You’re wrong. I know they are looking for me. Once they find me, there will be no place on earth you can hide,” Rosie spat. Carter continued spewing lies about her and her family.

“I know what it’s like to be the forgotten child. Believe it or not but I had an older brother, Jacob. My father’s pride and joy and when he died, the mob could only be passed to me. My father resented me for taking Jacob’s place, I wasn’t my dad’s first choice neither his second or third or fourth for fucks sake. Hated that daft man. Kind of mad your brother beat me to kill, didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing the life slowly drain from his eyes,” Carter lamented, spilling his darkest thoughts to Rosie.

“You’re psychotic. You shouldn’t have been treated that way but it’s not too late. If you hated your dad so much, why are you after my brother for killing him. Seems like he did you a favor,” Rosie quipped.

“What kind of son would I be if I didn’t avenge his death? I stepped up and the moment Angus died, I became the leader. The same will happen to you,” Carter questioned.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m just the daughter, maybe the forgotten child but not a killer.”

“I’ll wait and see. We are the same Rosie. Sooner or later, once I kill your brother you will be the new Holland to take on the mantle. Don’t you get it, we are the same.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t need validation from my family, I’m glad I don’t have the burden of living like this,” Rosie responded. Not letting him see that his words were piercing her heart.

“Maybe you don’t need it, but you’d appreciate it. All those times of living in the shadows of everyone else. Never being the first choice. ALWAYS BEING SECOND!!! Aren’t you fucking tired? I sure as hell am and there is hell to be paid from all this.” Carter shouted, causing Rosie to thrash in her restraints

“What are you suggesting?”

“Join me. You talk about not wanting this life, but deep down you are mad at the world you weren’t picked first. Like if we were still in grade school lined up against the gym wall waiting to be picked for dodgeball. You have anger, I can feel it. Use it. Let it fuel your vendetta, Rosie you’ll never get a better offer. Don’t let this be another regret,” Carter requested.

“I’d rather die than join you,” Rosie spat at him.

“If your brother doesn’t show up that can be arranged. You see, I’m a man of my word. Hopefully your brother is too,” Carter concluded, leaving the room.

Rosie couldn’t let him see it, but she was crawling her skin. Begging to get away from that heinous man and back in Henry arms.

‘Oh, Henry’ she thought to herself. The last she of him was when she was abducted. Knocked out alongside her. For all she knew he could be dead, cadaverous lying lifeless somewhere. A few tears slipped out as she let those grim thoughts plague her mind.

Rosie owed everything to Henry. Life without him meant nothing at all. He was there when she needed him most but not right at that moment.

Little did she know, Tom, Parker and Henry were all outside of planning how to bring her home safely. “Ok. We don’t know how many people are in there. But since it’s a warehouse Rosie is probably being held in the main garage. Nobody splits up. Henry you have to stay out here. If Rosie comes out, drive off,” Tom explained.

“What? No. I’m going in there.” Henry questioned, a little annoyed they didn’t want them in there. Sure he had never held a gun before or had to deal with a hostage situation, but he wanted to be in there.

“Henry, your dad needs you and Rosie needs you. She needs you if we both don’t make it. She needs you always. Just promise me, you will treat my daughter well,” Tom uttered.

“I will, sir. Parker, when you're giving that bastard hell, don’t give him a shitty threat. I’ll be waiting for all of you. Now go get our girl.” Henry said, realizing that staying outside was for the best.

Tom and Parker slowly, make their way in the warehouse. Quietly to not alert any lurking guards.

“Parker, I don’t know what we’re walking into. I don’t say it enough but, I love you son. Take care of your mother for me if anything happens?” Tom pleaded.

“I love you too, dad. I will, I promise. But nothing is going to happen,” Parker assured Tom.

“I’ll lead the way. Make sure you stay behind me.” Tom whispered, holding two fingers up.

“Psst, dad,” Parker faltered as Tom was throwing him hand signals.

“Parker, I know you haven’t really been in a shoot out, but shut up.”

“I don’t know what that means…Dad stop, I don’t know.”

“Seriously. It means, I go right, you go left and also shut up.”

“Shut up, two fingers means—“ Parker mocked, becoming oblivious to his position. He was standing right in front of an open hallway.

“Parker, shh…. Get back.” Tom whisper-screamed.

“Oh shit.” Tom mentally face palmed as Parker walking right into open sight giving away their position.

Carter’s men immediately pulled out their guns after noticing Parker jump back behind the corner. Tom and Parker both start firing, covering each other. Bullets strike the two assailants, killing them.

“Like I said, I’m leading—“ Tom said, before being disarmed.

“DAD!!” Parker screams as Tom’s gun is knocked out of his hand and one of Carter’s men wrap his hands around Tom’s neck.

“Shoot him.” Tom managed to croak out as his voice grew more hoarse, by his wind pipe being crushed.

“What?” Parker questioned.

“I said shoot him. SHOOT HIM!” Tom’s voice coming out more as a whisper scream.

Parker aimed his gun at the henchman, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to hit Tom. One shot fired, flooring the thug. The hands around Tom’s neck became limp and Tom coughed to catch his breath.

“You closed your eyes!” Tom wheezed, allowing air to once fill his lungs again.

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You could’ve killed me.”

“I didn’t want to hit you,” Parker explained.

“And closing your eyes, impeding your eyesight would prevent that?” Tom thundered sarcastically.

“Ok, if I’m right, they are keeping Rosie past they corridor and there are about three guards right there. I need to save my bullets. But we can take these guys right?” Tom mentioned.

“I guess so,” Parker hesitated.

“Here I’ll make it a fair fight.” Tom said, holding his gun up from around the corner. He fired blind and all you heard was a thud.

Parker was beyond impressed, his jaw slacked open. “How? Hooowww?”

“Parker, close your mouth. Fists up,” Tom replied, throwing the first punch. Barely making a dent in the man’s chiseled face. More punches were thrown by both Parker and Tom. Tom managed to get one of the assailants in a head lock and with the twist of his wrist, snapped his neck.

Parker tried the same but failed epically, “Damm they make that look so easy in the movies.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here to cover you. Go get your sister,” Tom chuckled. Parker just nodded and went through the corridor, finding Rosie centered in a great room tied to a chair. He approached her slowly, trying to stay quiet.

“No, please. No more torture. Just kill me already,” Rosie pleaded with her eyes shut, trying to stop tears from coming.

“Rosie it’s me,” Parker whispered, placing a hand on her cheek.

“Parker,” Rosie exclaimed. All the hope that had dissipated coming back. She was saved.

“Yeah, its okay. We got you now. You’re safe,” Parker assured her. All her bruises and cuts made his heart clench. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.

“Oh, look who finally showed up. Glad you’re somewhat honorable, giving yourself to save your dear sister. The deal was you for her,” Carter jeered coming out of the shadows.

“He’s right. I have to do this,” Parker asserted, going to walk toward him but Rosie grabbed his wrist.

“No you don’t,” Tom yelled, running up to protect Rosie.

“Parker come on,” Rosie begged.

“Are you a man of your word or a sad pathetic little boy?” Carter snickered.

“I’m sorry guys,” Parker pleaded. What choice did he have? Give himself up or have his family be constantly hunted.

“You aren’t taking him.” Tom shouted about to pull out his gun but Carter beat him to it. Shooting him in the left shoulder.

“Daaadddd!” Rosie yelled, dropping to Tom’s level.

“I’m okay, Rosie. I’m okay,” Tom explained, hissing from the pain. His shirt becoming bloodied.

“Come on, I could see you coming from a mile away,” Carter smirked.

“Well did you see this?” Parker said, sending a bullet through his abdomen. Blooded seeped all through his white shirt, the blood loss made him stumble as he fled.

“Rosie, there’s a car outside. Take dad,” Parker disclosed.

“Parker, no. You have to come with is.” Rosie pleaded, tears threatening to fall.

“I’m right behind you. I have to know he is dead. And you have to get dad home.”

“I won’t leave without you. I promise.”

“I’ll be out soon. Go,” Parker motioned. Rosie held Tom close to her body, holding him up as she made her way to the exit.

“Carter, you’re not getting away that easy.” Parker called out, running to the back of the warehouse in search of Carter.

“Come to finish the job? Missing that clean, one shot kill. What was it, execution style?” Carter joshed, coughing as blood filled his mouth.

“Exactly what I’m doing. This bullet was never meant for you but you came after me and my family,” Parker lamented.

“Parker, they’ll never be safe…. The blood you have spilled has marked them for life. They will always be leverage for the man who killed half of London’s mob scene…. Always a pretty penny for your head.” Carter said with labored breaths.

“Shut up, I can protect them,” Parker barked, soon realizing Carter was right.

“They only way you can protect them… is by leaving them.” And with that all life and breath had left Carter. Parker’s thoughts kept coming one after the other. They wouldn’t stop. All the knew was that Rosie was now safe and so was Tom.

Rosie opened the doors to be greeted with her loving boyfriend, Henry. They exchanged a few words, before he attended to Tom.

“Henry,” Rosie whispered, a smile streaked across her face.

“Rosie,” Henry returned, the same smile appeared as he stared at her with pure adoration.

“Tom. Are you okay?” Henry asked, noticing Rosie was carrying him.

“I’m fine. Can we save this love fest for later?” Tom mocked as he clutched his arm.

Not even a minute later, you came running up to the warehouse. You heart stop as you saw a bloodied Tom, “TOM! Oh my god Tom.”

“Y/N?... Baby I’m okay its just a graze.” Tom was surprised to see you here, because he specially left Haz in charge of watching you.

“Owww. What was that for?” He questioned as you punched him in the arm.

“That’s for locking me in my fucking room,” you remarked.

Next what you did, surprised all of them. Who knew anger and adoration were such close emotions. You pressed your lips to his chapped ones. He was surprised by act of love, but relished in your kiss.

“And that’s because I’m so happy to see you,” you whispered, breaking away from a gentle kiss.

“I promise I’ll never leave again. I’m sorry.” Tom whispered against your forehead as the pressed a gentle kiss.

“Rosie, where’s Parker?” you questioned, realizing your family wasn’t whole. You felt your heart sink to your stomach.

“I d-d -don’t know. He was right behind us.” Rosie stammered.

“Henry, I’m going back in. To get him.” Rosie asserted.

“Rosie, please don’t leave me again,” Henry begged.

“He came to save me. Someone has to do the same for him,” Rosie assured.

“I’m going with you,” Henry agreed.

BOOM

As they were running back to the big metal doors, a loud explosion rang through the streets. The building before their eyes burst into flames, before they had the chance to enter. It was engulfed in flames, along with everyone else.

You felt as though your heart stopped and you began to fall to your knees. Buckling under the grief. Tom caught you in his arms as you fell. No one could survive an explosion like that. Not even Parker.

A/n: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Two chapters left, then the sequel series.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy @quaksonhehe

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom x reader #dad!mob!tom holland #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Hate to Date Ch.8 | Brittana

A/N - These next two chapters are probably some of the more difficult ones I've written so far for this story so be gentle LOL. Also, I've noticed readers saying in their reviews lately that these weekly updates are like waiting for a new episode of a fav tv show and I love that. One of the things I miss about Glee or whatever show I’m obsessed with is having something to look forward to each week so I'm really happy this story offers you all that kind of comfort! Hopefully I can keep it up 💙

Before you read on, consider treating your local fav fic writer with a coffee through Ko-Fi!

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

When Saturday rolls around, Santana putters around the apartment attempting to busy herself with meaningless tasks – anything that’ll keep her from anxiously watching the clock. She lounges in her sweatpants and a tank top all day, switching from vegging out on the couch to catching up on some coursework, but it gets harder for her to resist the urge to check the time the later it gets.

No matter what she does, no matter the many distractions she tries piling on – she can’t help but cave.

She can’t help but think about Brittany.

When Puck gets home a little later from hanging out with a couple guys from his team, he finds Santana close to falling asleep on the couch. He takes in the lazy clothes she wears, the messy hair, the sea of snacks that surrounds her and lifts a brow.

“What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” Santana snarks.

“It looks like you’ve just gone through a rough break up.”

Santana shoots him a look, “I’m clearly having a lazy day.”

He glances from her to the tv screen and back to her again, “Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah,” Santana replies and averts her eyes as she tugs on her blanket. “You can either join or scram.”

Puck rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote. When the screen shuts off, Santana lets out a huff but Puck only crosses his arms.

“What the hell?” She snaps. “I was watching that!”

“So?” Puck challenges.

“So turn it back on.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick your ass.”

Puck barks out a laugh, “I’d like to see you try. Go ahead.”

Santana doesn’t move, “I don’t have the energy for this.”

“You’re so damn frustrating,” Puck shakes his head.

The comment makes Santana falter a little; it makes her think about Brittany again, it makes her think about how she let her down, it makes her think about how it made her feel to watch the blonde run away.

But Brittany isn’t here, it’s Puck and Santana knows he doesn’t scare off too easily.

“Just leave me alone,” Santana grumbles.

Of course, Puck doesn’t.

“Are you seriously not going tonight?”

Santana clenches her jaw as the anxious feeling returns. It didn’t take much but she’s wavering and she knows it. Puck probably knows it too or else he wouldn’t be here pressing her buttons still.

“I told you I can’t go,” She tells him defiantly. “I’d only ruin her night. She doesn’t need that, no one does. It’s better if I stay here.”

“Bullshit,” Puck disputes. “You don’t know that.”

Santana stays quiet, she can feel her foundation cracking.

“I do know that,” She says. “You saw how pissed she was when she left. I’d just make things worse if I go.”

Puck sighs tiredly, “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“That,” Puck tries to explain. “It’s just like high school – you’re taking yourself out of the game before you even play it.”

That strikes a nerve with Santana, “That’s not what happened and you know it. This is so much different.”

“You gave up then,” Puck tells her. “And you’re giving up now. Why? I don’t know. This should be way easier for you. There’s no scholarship on the line or this big scary secret you need to help hide. You’re not even in love with the girl this time but here you are sitting on the damn bench.”

Santana shrinks back. She doesn’t want to talk about the past, she doesn’t want it mixing in with her present so she deflects, “Can you stop with the ridiculous sports metaphors?”

“No. Now get your ass up,” Puck huffs as he pulls off the blanket Santana covers herself with.

“Goddamn it, Puckerman! Cut the shit!”

“You first, Lopez!”

This time, Santana rises to her feet. She faces Puck head on and glares. Her fists are tight and her chest aches with rage and something else, something she’s tried so many times to push away.

“You know what you have to do,” Puck says. “Stop with the excuses and just go do it already. Quit being a little punk about it.”

“I’m not being a punk,” Santana grumbles.

Puck laughs as he waves his hand at her mess, “All this because Britt finally called you out on your shit? Come on, you’re better than that.”

Santana tenses her jaw again but Puck only softens as he puts his heavy hands on her shoulders, going into total pep talk mode. Santana tries to squirm away, but Puck steadies her like always.

No one would ever expect that this guy, the one with a ratty mohawk, could be the voice of reason for Santana but he’s never failed her before. Just like her, he doesn’t back down. He sticks by her even when she’s being a stubborn dumbass and if anyone needs someone in their life like that it’s Santana.

“I know you,” He says solemnly. “Going to this thing tonight is a piece of cake, all you have to do is quit selling yourself short and go.”

Santana’s shoulders drop even further as Puck continues.

“Prove yourself wrong and kill it,” He says. “You owe it to yourself and you owe it to Brittany.”

There’s an uneasiness still but Santana can’t lie and say Puck’s words didn’t ignite something within her. It goes without saying that his words have had an impact. She bats off his hands and glances at the time, frowning when she sees how late it has gotten.

“I don’t think I can make it in time,” Santana says. “I can’t get ready in forty minutes. My hair alone takes at least an hour.”

“Well what’s that saying?” Puck questions. “Better late than never?”

Santana sighs through a small smile, “I mean, I do like to make an entrance.”

Puck smirks, “Then you better get going.”

Santana’s used to walking into parties like she owns the place, but she finds herself struggling as she approaches the entrance of the Brainiacs’ Ball. She stares up at the prominent steps flanked by solid columns and has never felt so small in all her life. She’s way out of her comfort zone, but she takes the first step anyway.

Slowly, she puts one foot in front of the other. She can feel the low thrum of the bass from the music inside before she can actually hear it. At least that’s something she’s a little more familiar with and with that in mind, she continues her journey.

Maybe Puck was right? This is a piece of cake!

When she reaches the top and looks back, she finds Puck still waiting at the bottom of the stairs watching on like a proud soccer mom. He catcalls at her loudly and it causes the last of the guests making their way inside to stare.

Santana scrunches her face and waves him away, not wanting to be embarrassed by how he sticks out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and jersey. He gets the message though and gives her one last round of thumbs up before heading off.

Though she tries to play it off like she can’t stand his dorkiness, she’s thankful for that little bit of extra support and finds enough courage to walk into the building with her head held high.

She might not feel like she owns the place right now, but that’ll change by the end of the night!

Santana knew it was a black tie affair, but she really didn’t expect such extravagance.

There’s a great crystal chandelier hanging from above casting iridescent shadows across the lobby, spotless marbled floors speckled with flecks of gold, the ruby red carpet leading the way into the grand hall where guests dressed to kill mingle with champagne flutes in their hands.

All that’s missing are the annoying paparazzi and the blinding flashes from their cameras and she’d feel like she was at some gaudy Hollywood party.

It’s like she just walked into one of the parties Maribel’s firm throws for holidays and she so wasn’t expecting that. Although she’s been to many of those, she still feels a little out of place as she makes her way through the double doors.

“Good evening,” The doorman greets politely before extending a gloved had to the party. “Welcome to the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

Santana smiles in return and heads in. She tries to keep an eye out for Brittany all while trying to wrap her head around the fact that all of this is in celebration of a handful of academic decathlon clubs.

Who the hell knew they got down like this? Even their DJ has great music playing! Santana’s so surprised, almost distractingly so but then she spots a familiar someone in the crowd.

Brittany

There’s a sudden sense of relief but it’s soon replaced with a frown as Santana finds that the girl isn’t alone. She’s with some tall guy; Santana can’t really see that far to tell who it is or if she knows him. All she knows is that Brittany is standing with him and she’s laughing.

He’s making her laugh.

Santana’s frown deepens before she squints her eyes, trying to get a better look at the guy. Like the others here, he’s dressed to the nines in a dashing suit with his black hair slicked back.

Okay, whatever – he can clean up well. Santana can too! But the important question is, what’s he doing with Brittany?

She ducks behind a vase of flowers, peering through the gaps in the leaves so Brittany doesn’t spot her. She only briefly thinks about how ridiculous she must look before other guests unknowingly happen to block her view.

Frustrated, she tries ducking and dodging them but even in her stilettos she’s just too short. She’ll need to get closer if she wants to see what this guy’s deal is, but as she makes her way over she can’t help but think: did Brittany really replace her?

Surely not, that would definitely raise suspicion. She wouldn’t do that.

Would she?

Suddenly, a waiter dressed formally in a suit and tie steps in Santana’s path. There’s a silver tray full of champagne flutes atop his hand and he looks to Santana expectantly.

“Champagne?”

Santana takes one last look at Brittany and that guy and goes for a glass.

“Yeah, sure.” She takes one and downs it in two gulps.

The waiter raises his brows in awe and quickly goes to turn away, but Santana stops him.

“Hold up,” She says and puts down her empty glass in favor of taking two more. She smiles sweetly at him in thanks before getting her game face on. She finds herself thinking about what Puck said before and starts to fill with confidence – no more sitting on the sidelines for her!

Santana saunters over to Brittany with determination in her eyes.

It’s go time.

“There you are!” Santana greets cheerfully as she reaches Brittany with a champagne flute in each hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Brittany stops mid-sentence, her face pale as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it,” Santana replies as she hands her the spare flute before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She looks up at pretty blue eyes and adds, “I know how important this night is for you.”

Brittany blinks, it’s like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Santana thinks she’s off to a good start so far – naturally – and sizes up the guy Brittany was talking to before she came over.

“And who are you?” She asks with a slight bite to her tone as she wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist.

He falters as he looks back and forth between her and Brittany, “I’m Mike.”

Santana lifts her brow challengingly, but Brittany steps in to add.

“He’s a friend of mine.”

Santana continues to stare at the guy, “Friend.”

“Yeah,” Brittany glances at her with slight confusion but it quickly disappears as she slips into character too. “I was just telling him you weren’t feeling too good and that you probably wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Right,” Santana replies. Her smile turns devilish, “Well I appreciate the concern but I’m all better now, Mike.”

He looks a little nervous but nods, “That’s good to hear.”

“Mhmm,” Santana brings her glass to her lips. She maintains eye contact with him while she threads her fingers with Brittany’s and sips her champagne slowly.

“Well Britt, I’m gonna go,” He says hesitantly to Brittany before jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “I want to make sure we grab a good seat. I’ll see you over at the table.”

“Okay cool,” Brittany smiles. “See you there.”

“It was nice finally meeting you, Santana,” Mike says kindly to the brunette before disappearing into the crowd.

Santana watches him go as she takes another sip. This Mike character really changed up his tune once Santana was around – all nice and polite. He wasn’t fooling her though! Trying to steal her fake girlfriend, not today!

“He’s gone,” Brittany says gruffly. “You can let go of my hand now.”

“Oh sorry,” Santana pulls away and glances in the direction Mike went. “So he’s attractive…what’s he doing at a place like this?”

Brittany doesn’t even smile, “You know not everyone with a brain looks like Steve Urkel.”

Santana doesn’t notice Brittany’s dismissive tone as she looks around. She’s still mind blown by the atmosphere and the people and everything.

“Clearly,” She replies. “I mean, did you see that man’s jawline? I’m a lesbian, but I can still admire a good looking – “

“What are you doing here, Santana?”

Brittany’s curt tone pulls Santana right back to the other day where they sat together at her tiny dining table and she watched as Brittany grew more and more disappointed in her. There’s a hardness to her, an annoyance, that doesn’t go unnoticed. It makes Santana shrink back, that confidence before taking a big hit, but she stands her ground – even if Brittany makes her feel shaken.

“I’m here to be your arm candy,” Santana says in return – attempting to make this exchange lighthearted.

Brittany’s not having it though as she says bitterly, “I don’t need it.”

“Sure you do.”

“No,” Brittany admonishes. “I don’t so you can leave now.”

Santana slips up out of frustration, “Are you really going to make this difficult for me?”

That sets Brittany off once again, the bitterness intensifying.

“Seriously? You did not just ask me that. After everything you said the other night, after the way you just put your foot down and refused to budge? You want to talk to me about being difficult?” Brittany lets out a dry laugh, “You’ve got some nerve.”

Santana cringes as she takes a subtle look around to make sure no one notices them arguing, but no one pays them any mind. It’s a relief, but it doesn’t offer Santana much comfort with the way Brittany’s still glaring at her.

She was a little prepared for the backlash, she just wasn’t sure how bad Brittany’s words would sting. She isn’t used to the harshness in Brittany’s tone and she kind of hates that she’s the reason for it.

Still, she pushes forward. She’s determined to fix this, no matter how hard Brittany fights her.

“Okay,” Santana’s voice is meek. “So that was a poor choice of words... ”

“You think?” Brittany replies, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Santana’s instincts have her wanting to retreat. She has clearly messed up big time and everything in her is telling her to just listen to Brittany and leave – yet her feet don’t move.

Maybe she’s hardheaded, maybe she’s too damn stubborn for her own good; whatever it is, she continues to stand her ground.

“I’m here now,” Santana says earnestly. “That has to count for something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “It doesn’t.”

Santana lets out a laugh out of aggravation. Who knew the girl could be just as stubborn as her? Talk about grudges, no wonder no one ever gets on Brittany’s bad side! It’s damn near impossible to get off of it! But Santana’s made proving she can be there for Brittany her new mission so she’s not going anywhere just yet.

“What do you want me to do?” Santana asks dejectedly. “Get on my hands and knees? Beg for your forgiveness?”

“Save your breath,” Brittany replies briskly as she sets down her glass. “I don’t want to be here with someone that would rather be elsewhere and I’m tired of trying to force you to care.”

That one surprisingly hurts a little more than Santana expected, but it doesn’t top the feeling that quickly follows as she watches Brittany begin to turn her back on her.

“Brittany,” Santana finds herself calling out. When the blonde doesn’t stop, Santana calls out to her again. “Britt – “

“No,” Brittany pauses as she looks over her shoulder at Santana. “You were right. You’d just ruin my night. Go home, Santana.”

It’s another blow to the chest as the blonde turns to walk away again. Only this time, Santana kicks into gear. She’s got something to prove and she’s not leaving until she does! She quickly sets down her glass too and reaches out, catching Brittany by the wrist before she gets too far.

“Can you just wait?” Santana pleads.

“What?” Brittany snaps back.

Santana softens as she tucks her tail between her legs, “I’m sorry.”

Brittany looks a little taken aback by the relaxing of her tensed jaw, but it only last for a moment as she looks down at Santana’s hand still around her wrist.

“Okay, great,” Brittany says sarcastically. “Now let me go.”

Brittany doesn’t wait for Santana to loosen her grip and instead shakes Santana off of her. The brunette doesn’t try reaching for her again, but she does take a step closer.

“Hold on,” Santana urges again. “I’m not finished.”

Brittany pauses, taking a wary look back her. Santana can see that she’s wearing her down, but who knows how long it’ll last. There’s no reason for Brittany to give her another chance after having so many, so she has to make this count.

“I thought about what you said,” Santana tells her. “Like I really, really thought about it and I think you might be right.”

Brittany remains looking indifferent and that makes Santana nervous, but she continues on.

“You’re right about this being one sided. You’re right about you putting in most of the work and doing things that benefit me,” Santana says. “You’re right about it all – minus one thing.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “What’s that?”

“I’m not selfish.”

“No?” Brittany scoffs. “Then you must not know the meaning of the word because your past actions would say otherwise.”

Santana sighs, “Yeah, I know but I guess that’s why I’m here…to prove that you’re wrong.”

Brittany softens in the slightest as she listens.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Santana explains. “You always go above and beyond. I mean, you climbed through a window for me and you’re learning Spanish to get on Abuela’s good side! Like what the hell? Who does that?” Santana pauses when she realizes she’s veering from her point.

“I know I’m still not on your level when it comes to doing the most,” She continues. “But I figured it’s only fair that I do something that I normally wouldn’t just to show you that all you do isn’t for nothing. By coming here tonight, I’m trying to return the favor. This is my metaphorical window and I want to climb through it for you.”

Santana pauses when she realizes how lame she sounds, but maybe this huge fuck up calls for a little lameness. Maybe a lot; whatever works at this point!

Brittany watches Santana for a moment as if she’s trying to decide whether or not Santana’s words have any weight to them. It isn’t the first time she’s said she’d do better, so it’s no surprise Brittany isn’t as quick to accept her apology.

“I don’t really know if I believe you,” She finally says. Her tone has lost most of its bite but Santana knows she’s not in the clear just yet.

“That’s fine,” Santana replies. She stands a little taller, puffs out her chest and says, “I’ll just have to spend all night trying to convince you. You want a perfect fake girlfriend? Well Britt-Britt, you’ve got one.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile that graces Brittany’s lips and it makes the dimming beacon of hope in Santana begin to shine a little brighter.

“That is,” Santana adds. “If you want me to. I know this night is important for you. I can go if that’s what you really want.”

She bats her eyelashes for the extra touch – because if after all of that Brittany still makes her leave…well that would just be embarrassing. Surprisingly though, it makes Brittany’s smile grow. Santana can tell she’s fighting to keep it small, fighting to keep from giving in, and she takes that as a personal victory.

“You can stay,” Brittany says after making Santana wait a little longer.

Santana beams, “Okay gre – ”

“For now.”

“Okay,” Santana’s grin softens. “I can handle that.”

“I don’t want to fight with you here,” Brittany tells her firmly. “I only want to have a good time and if you try to mess that up then you’re out of here.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Santana replies.

Brittany holds out her pinky, “Promise?”

Santana eyes her skeptically, “Are you trying to make me pinky promise? What are we twelve?”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Brittany replies flatly – still holding out her pinky.

“Promise,” Santana sighs and curls her pinky around Brittany’s.

Satisfied, Brittany nods and pulls away. While Santana chuckles, she looks over to the direction Mike left.

“So I guess you can go ahead and tell Hot Stuff over there that he doesn’t need to be coming around here anymore too.”

That pulls a genuine laugh out of Brittany who can’t help but smirk at Santana’s comment.

“Shocking; you’re the jealous type.”

Santana lifts her brow, “I’m not. I’m just saying – his assistance as interim date is no longer required if I’m here.”

“I said you can stay for now. I can change my mind at any time.”

Santana’s shoulders droop as she’s once again put back in her place. Brittany notices and smirks.

“He has a date already,” Brittany continues. “His girlfriend. You know her. Tina?”

Santana’s jaw drops a little, “No shit, really?”

“Yeah, they’ve been together for awhile now.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Well good,” Santana lifts her chin. “He can carry his fine ass on over to her and stay there then.”

“You’re really hung up on how people can be both smart and hot,” Brittany points out with a laugh. “Like you and I aren’t also examples of that being a thing.”

“Hold up,” Santana starts to smirk. “Did you just say I’m hot?”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I mean, you do look nice.”

Santana frowns, “Just nice?”

Brittany eyes her up and down slowly before shrugging, “Yeah, nice. I’m actually surprised you didn’t wear one of your stripper dresses. Guess you won’t be making it rain tonight.”

Santana lets out a laugh. She’s glad Brittany’s back to bantering with her instead of the heavy intensity from before. Maybe they’re not completely back on good terms, but at least it’s better than what it was.

“We’ll see. Those moves are for later,” Santana winks jokingly before giving her compliments. “You clean up pretty good too. I like what you’ve done with your hair. It’s cute.”

Brittany gets a little bashful as she fluffs her softly tussled hair, “Thanks.”

Santana only nods, “Now where’s this elusive open bar I’ve heard so much about? I needs me something other than champagne.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re here,” Brittany quips.

Santana feels like Brittany’s testing her although her tone remains playful.

“Yeah, but I’m mostly here for you,” Santana replies super sweetly. “I mean, how can I say no to an open bar? I am a broke college student after all.”

Brittany chuckles, “I see your priorities are straight.”

“It’s the only straight thing about me,” Santana jokes before hooking her arm with Brittany’s.

After getting their drinks, the couple roam around the room arm in arm. It’s mostly to keep up appearances; a way to make up for Santana arriving late and to show that Brittany really isn’t here all alone.

She’s surprised by how many come up to greet them – well, greet Brittany. Santana guesses the blonde really is a big deal here after all and everyone happily chats away with her. Who can blame them though? Brittany’s probably the friendliest person Santana knows.

They bump into Mike and Tina again near the giant owl ice sculpture while they make their rounds – because yeah, of course this party has one of those – but the conversation is kept brief with Tina trying to get in as many interviews with everyone before dinner.

Mike tags along after her with a proud smile on his face as he offers to hold her drink and for a second Santana kind of feels a little guilty about having her claws out when they first met. He seems kind, happy to be alongside Tina and Santana finds herself wondering if people get that vibe when she’s with Brittany.

While Santana and Brittany linger by the ice sculpture, Santana notices a small group of people that look a lot like the guys from Brittany’s team. At least the one in the center of it all is for sure. They stick out to her because they’re probably some of the lasts who haven’t come to greet Brittany which seems odd considering she’s their teammate.

Wouldn’t they have been the first to see her? Maybe Santana missed that part since she arrived late, then again judging by how they seemed to shun her at the match they probably haven’t come to say hi on purpose.

Santana quietly watches them though as Brittany chats with another guest about robotics or whatever nerdy talk that goes completely over Santana’s head. She notices how they all gravitate to the one guy in the center and it’s like they hang on his every word. They laugh when he does, they nod when he nods – they’re puppets and he’s the puppet master.

Santana doesn’t realize she’s pulling a face until Brittany bumps her with her elbow.

“Quit it,” Brittany chastises. “People can see you.”

“My bad,” Santana fixes her face and gestures over to the group. “He’s on your team, right? The one in the dusty grandpa sweater.”

Brittany glances in the direction and nods.

Santana wrinkles her nose, “He seems like a tool.”

“He’s not,” Brittany’s quick to defend before softening. “Not really.”

Santana doesn’t looked convinced so Brittany adds.

“He’s a pretty big deal to this community. People say he has one of the most gifted minds in our generation.”

Santana picks up on Brittany’s tone, but she can’t tell whether it’s envy or something entirely different. She knows one thing is for sure though.

“People say that about you too,” Santana tells her honestly. “The whole gifted mind thing.”

Brittany shakes her head and looks to the ground, “No they don’t.”

Her dismissiveness confuses Santana. She’s never not seen Brittany confident in how intelligent she actually is. If there’s one thing Santana knows the blonde is sure about, it’s her smarts. They argue about it all the time! That’s the very foundation of their rivalry, but apparently here that’s not the case.

“Word about his work has travelled all the way to MIT,” Brittany adds. “It’s so impressive.”

“And yet, he never went there. You did,” Santana reminds her as she continues to stare down the guy. She glances to Brittany again skeptically, “Or is he a transfer too?”

“He’s not. But I’m sure he would’ve gotten in easy. His work is…it’s legendary.”

Santana watches Brittany, trying to figure her out. It sounds a lot like admiration rather than envy, but why? How great can this guy possibly be if he has Brittany doubting herself?

“I didn’t know you were such a fan,” Santana comments.

“I just admire him is all,” Brittany says, confirming Santana’s thoughts.

Santana still doesn’t get it though and frowns around the word, “Admire…”

The both of them watch the man chat with the others silently for two very different reasons. The longer Santana stares, the more she kind of wants to punch him. He just has a very punchable face she supposes, especially when he laughs louder than anyone else in the room.

The sound makes Santana grit her teeth while it has the opposite effect on Brittany.

“He’s kind of cute too,” The blonde admits.

“Cute?” Santana raises both brows and laughs. “We looking at the same guy?”

Brittany shrugs, “He’s cute in that boy next door kind of way.”

“Seriously?” Santana snickers. “That Mike guy was kind of cute. Him? He ain’t it.”

Brittany suddenly hardens, “Well it doesn’t matter what you think. Does it?”

Santana’s taken aback.

“It’s not always about looks,” Brittany further chastises. “There’s more to people than that.”

Santana keeps quiet and nods, not wanting to piss Brittany off again. Afterall, her presence is completely dependent on whether or not Brittany wants her around. She can revoke the privilege at any second and Santana would hate to be kicked to the curb because she once again can’t keep her opinions to herself.

“What’d you say his name was again?” She asks a moment later.

“Artie.”

Suddenly something clicks. She remembers the conversation she had with Brittany’s parents at Brittany’s last match and the comment about someone named Artie.

“So that’s who your parents were talking about,” Santana hums.

“Wait what?” Brittany whirls on her. “I’ve mentioned him like twice. What’d they say?”

Santana shrugs, “They said dating me is an upgrade.”

Brittany gives her a look and slumps, “They didn’t say that.”

“No, but it’s true.”

“They clearly don’t know you well enough.”

Santana cringes, “Hey, I’m trying. At least I’m not a tool like that guy.”

“Debatable.”

“Rude.”

They settle into silence again. Santana goes from scanning the crowd to glancing Brittany’s way. She notices how the blonde continues to gravitate towards Artie too, just like one of his puppets. Santana finds it so odd and the curiosity begins to get the better of her.

“So what’s your deal with him?” She asks. “He an ex I need to worry about?”

“No. It’s nothing like that,” Brittany replies.

Santana doesn’t believe that for a second though.

“I sense a story.”

“There isn’t one,” Brittany says with a shrug. “We were friends and now, I don’t know what we are. Things got weird after I was asked to join the robotics team and he wasn’t. We used to study all the time together, but after that happened he kind of kept me at a distance.”

Santana struggles to mask the disdain she has for this guy. He really is a tool if that’s how he acts. But she fights the urge to speak on it, sensing Brittany still has some kind of connection with him.

“Do you like him or something?” Santana wonders.

Brittany shrugs again, “It’s complicated. We’ve got history I guess.”

Santana nods; she can oddly relate to that.

“You know, he was the first friend I made here?” Brittany smiles at the memory. “I was so freaking nervous – you know, new campus and all. I spent extra time trying to get my bearings the day before but I still ended up getting lost on my first day. Artie was the one who took the time to show me around.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, but notices Brittany’s melancholy even more.

“Don’t tell Tina that,” Santana tries to joke. “We’ll have some conflicting stories.”

When Brittany barely gives her a smile, Santana tries again.

“I thought Puck was the one who showed you around?” Santana asks. “That’s how you guys became friends?”

“He was, but Artie was the first.”

“Huh,” Santana glances at the guy and laughs. “He must not have done a very good job then if you still ended up getting lost.”

This time there’s a small that graces Brittany’s lips, but it’s not nearly as big and bright as Santana’s used to. She’ll just have to try harder.

“He also introduced me to the Brainiacs,” Brittany tells her. “It was pretty cool of him. When I was at MIT, it was hard to get into any clubs. Everyone was kind of cliquey, so it was nice to see that things were different here. Everyone on the team was super accepting at first.”

“At first?” Santana questions.

“Yeah,” Brittany starts to frown. “When I first joined, the team was mostly girls and they were really great – super smart and so lovely – but they graduated last year. Now the dynamic’s changed a lot because of all the new people who seem to worship Artie. That’s probably part of the reason for his ego boost.”

Santana turns up her nose at that, but Brittany’s quick to return to the positives.

“But when it’s just us, he’s not so bad. He really looked out for me when I first came to Columbia. He introduced me to the Brainiacs and recommended me for the tutoring gig,” Brittany tells her. “We used to work together all the time until I got into this fake relationship with you.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Santana quips, but Brittany doesn’t really laugh at that. So Santana softens, a little intrigued by Brittany’s past, “So after all that time spent together, nothing ever happened between you two?”

“No,” Brittany replies. “I don’t think it ever would anyway.”

“Because you’re taken or…”

Brittany sighs at the joke, “Like I said, things got weird after I joined the robotics team. It was like the first time I did something for myself without his help or recommendation and I guess it rubbed him the wrong way?”

“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Santana questions. “Why would he feel some type of way about you branching out?”

“I don’t know,” Brittany shrugs. “Maybe I’m looking too much into things? Maybe he really doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Santana shakes her head and stares at Artie again, “Well it looks like on top of being a tool, he’s an idiot too.”

Then almost as if he was summoned, Artie looks their way.

Santana finds herself straightening up, trying to stand taller, trying to seem more intimidating, but it doesn’t look like it deters the guy as he begins his journey over.

“Brittany,” Artie greets with a nod. “Hi.”

Brittany smiles, “Hey Artie.”

He then looks to Santana and gives her a curious look full of judgement. It has Santana clenching her teeth, trying her hardest to maintain character when all she wants to do is roll the guy into the giant owl ice sculpture.

“Who’s this?” He asks Brittany as if Santana can’t hear.

Santana breaks slightly and scoffs, “You know how I am.”

Artie raises his brow and looks expectantly to Brittany.

“This is my girlfriend, Santana,” Brittany introduces. “I’ve mentioned her to you before.”

“Right,” Artie looks to Santana again. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Santana stares back challengingly, “I bet your hear that a lot.”

Artie sits back in his chair with this smug look on his face, “Funny. She’s funny.”

“It’s one of my many top notch qualities,” Santana fires back before looking to Brittany. Her arm goes around her waist, “Ain’t that right, babe?”

It takes a moment for Brittany to play along, but then she’s smiling and melting into Santana’s side, “Yeah. Totally.”

Artie only eyes the two though, out of suspicion or jealousy – Santana’s unsure. She’s hoping for the latter, because it seems like no one’s ever put him in his place before. Santana’s just the girl for the job!

“So do you think the team is going to get the top spot, Artie?” Brittany asks, trying to keep things light. “It was a lot of close matches this year, I hope our percentage is enough to pull us through.”

Artie shakes his head, almost like he’s disappointed. “I don’t know. Several of those matches shouldn’t have been that close. You really should’ve spent more time studying.”

Santana’s brows rise, but she remains quiet – looking to Brittany to see her reaction. To her surprise, the blonde looks just as remorseful.

“Yeah, you’re right. I think I was having an off day.”

“I think you had a lot of those,” Artie quips. “Too busy with the robotics team maybe?”

Santana scoffs, “Is he joking?”

But Brittany doesn’t say anything so Santana keeps quiet too.

“Some competitors take a little while to warm up,” Artie continues. “You just aren’t a seasoned contender like I am. You know I hold the record for fastest buzz in during my rookie season?”

“I know.”

“No one’s come close to beating it,” Artie flaunts. “We might’ve made state if you didn’t botch the science round during the last match. Maybe I should’ve taken the turn instead.”

Brittany nods and Santana can tell she’s trying to take his criticism constructively – only problem is that it’s not constructive at all. It’s completely condescending and uncalled for.

“Hold up, no,” Santana finds herself interrupting which seems to surprise the pair. “Brittany killed it during the finals or whatever you call it. She was buzzing in when no one else on your little team was. Not even you knew those answers, so what I think you need to be doing is thanking her.”

“For what?” Artie challenges.

“For carrying the team obviously. No way you would’ve gotten far if it wasn’t for her.”

Brittany looks a little shocked by the way Santana stands up for her, but Santana barely notices – too busy willing Artie to step out of line again.

And he does, with an arrogant laugh, he brushes Santana off.

“But the time it took her to buzz in is what we lose points for,” Artie explains. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how academic decathlons work. They’re not like your cheerleading competitions, we actually have to use our brains.”

“Artie,” Brittany chastises but he’s unfazed.

Meanwhile Santana’s eyes are wide with surprise. The nerve, the audacity – it’s unbelievable!

“I’m sorry,” Santana starts to lean forward, getting down on his level. “Are you jealous that you can’t possibly possess both brains and brawn?”

Artie shifts in his chair and tries to evade Santana’s eye, but she’s so close now that he can’t avoid her.

“Or do you feel threatened by it?” Santana presses. “Threatened because this cheerleader’s GPA is something you’ve only dreamt of having and I didn’t have to waste away in a musty old library to get it? Tell me, Wheels, who was it again that was on track to be valedictorian until Brittany came along because I don’t remember seeing your name anywhere on the list.”

Artie’s face goes a little red that time; out of embarrassment or anger, Santana doesn’t care. All she cares about is making sure that he knows he isn’t shit and there’s no way he’ll talk to Brittany like that while she’s around.

There’s only one person in the world that can pick on Brittany and that’s her.

“The keyword is was,” He retorts.

“The keyword is you’re a prick,” Santana bites back just as fiercely.

“Okay,” Brittany cuts in. She gives Santana a little tug until she can curl an arm around her waist, “I think that’s enough of that.”

Artie continues to look shaken, but he does his best to mask it. Trying to be as macho as he can while in that turtleneck sweater he must’ve stolen from his grandfather’s closet. Safe to say it doesn’t fool Santana one bit.

“Well, I can see why you like her, Britt,” Artie comments with a glance in Santana’s direction. “She’s fiery.”

“She’s also this close to going all Lima He– “

“Santana,” Brittany scolds again.

There’s a pleading look in her eye that has Santana softening. She remembers what Brittany said earlier about tonight being fun and not wanting to fight, so Santana let’s Brittany pull her back. She settles, but it feels like it’s only the calm before the storm.

Artie notices too and puts on a smug grin, “Come to think of it, I have heard your name floating around on campus. Santana Lopez; the girl can’t be tied down to save her life.”

“Well Brittany’s changed that,” Santana quips. “Hasn’t she?”

“Hmm,” Artie nods but the stare he gives her is almost analytical. “It’s not really a pairing I would’ve pictured considering your history.” He then looks to Brittany and frowns, “I’m pretty sure you once told me that she couldn’t possibly have any redeeming qualities.”

Santana tries looking unfazed, but she can’t lie and say that comment didn’t sting. One look at Brittany and she can sense the guilt, but she keeps it hidden from Artie. Santana can’t hold it against Brittany though if she did say something like that about her, there’s been many times she’s complained about the blonde to Puck too.

But that was before they got to know each other, that was before they had to work together to emulate this perfect couple.

“Looks like I was wrong about that,” Brittany replies behind a smile that’s directed at Santana. She squeezes a little at the brunette’s waist, “Who would’ve known, opposites really do attract?”

Santana chuckles, remembering saying something similar during a conversation with Tina months ago.

“It sure took me by surprise,” Santana adds before glancing to Artie. “Guess I have some pretty redeeming qualities after all.”

Artie hums again with this contemplative look on his face, but he doesn’t rock the boat any further. He just nods and says, “Well this was fun. I guess I’ll leave you two to enjoy the Ball.”

Santana sneers at him while Brittany bids him goodbye.

“Oh. By the way Britt,” Artie pauses and glances back. “You look really great.”

Santana raises a brow at the compliment.

She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but there’s the slightest little smirk on his dumb face as he says it and it has Santana feeling hot. Even if Brittany isn’t her actual girlfriend, what the hell? Who compliments another person’s date right in front of them? It seems as though Artie knows exactly what he’s doing, but given her promise to Brittany she’ll bite her tongue – for now.

While Brittany ducks her head in thanks, Santana stays quiet – waiting until Artie is out of sight before she can finally let down her guard and say what’s really on her mind.

#hate to date #brittana #brittana fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating au

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lovingmyselfcore · 3 years

Text

Skate Into My Heart

Chapter Three; Uh oh

BESTIES

I'M ALIVE AND I DID THE WRITING THING

@ciaraloves (or @perseusjackson-jasongrace ig) LOOK AT ME DOING THE THING

As soon as Nico left the locker room, Piper pounced on him. Literally.

He was forced to take a step back and caught her by the shoulders, “What’s up?”

She was practically vibrating with excitement, “Annabeth’s back!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him through the hallways and into the main rink where a crowd of people had formed next to the bleachers.

It was the rest of the team and in the center was Annabeth, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted as all hell but she was grinning as the team peppered her with questions and play-by-plays of the practices she’d missed.

Piper shouldered them into the center so Nico was directly in front of Annabeth, Piper on one side and Calypso on the other.

“Hey, Nico,” Annabeth said, still grinning. She stepped forward for a hug and he let her, burying his face into her neck and breathing, already feeling the responsibility leaking from his tight shoulders. Annabeth was like a big sister to him, not that he’d ever admit that, but still.

“You want to get out?” Nico whispered into her neck.

“Yes,” She whispered back emphatically. Nico could barely stop himself from laughing but as they pulled apart he saw the genuine relief in her eyes and felt himself worrying. He needed to talk to her, about the team and skating, about Will and of course, if she needed to talk about why she’d been gone for so long, he’d do that too.

Apparently, Calypso recognized that too and, bless her heart, muttered something to Leo, and together they captured the team’s attention, allowing Nico to tug Annabeth away from the crowd and out of the rink. She sighed as soon as they were ejected onto the city streets. Nico stuck an arm out and she smiled and linked their arms.

“Where are you headed?” Nico asked as they walked the short distance to the car garage.

“Oh, probably just my apartment.”

Nico nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying with your dad or not.”

She shook her head, “He doesn’t even know I landed yet. I’ll head over in the morning.”

Her voice was stiff and Nico took that as his cue to change the subject. “So I have something to confide in you.”

She perked up almost immediately and he swallowed hard. But she just looked at him with those gray eyes and he reminded himself that this was Annabeth. That she wasn’t going to get angry with him.

At least, he hoped not.

“I’m talking to one of the hockey players,” He said casually.

Her grip on his arm stiffened and he braced himself but she was still just looking at him.

Finally, she grinned, “So when you say ‘talking to’...”

He groaned and felt himself flush, “Oh, shut up! Just friends.”

She hummed and released his arm to dig for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Is he nice?”

“No, he’s a dick,” Nico said sarcastically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“He’s blonde,” Nico offered.

“Oooh,” Annabeth drawled.

He rolled his eyes and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the parking garage.

“Is he gay?” Annabeth asked.

Nico nearly flinched and passed it off with another eye roll, “I don’t know, Annie, that’s not something that’s come up in casual conversation.”

She glared at him and Nico, being the mature adult he is, stuck his tongue out at her. She did it back then shook her head. “Too much time with Percy,” She muttered and Nico snorted. She grinned at him.

“So he’s okay?”

That sobered her immediately. “Yeah. Well, as okay as he can be. I’m only here for like two weeks because he insisted I come back, but I’m leaving as soon as possible,” She glanced sideways at him, “Not to leave you alone again, though.”

He shrugged off the flash of selfish hurt he’d felt, “I’m good, Beth.” But he wasn’t good. He’d just told her about Will, and not even the start of the way his stomach would twist when he saw a new text from the hockey player and not the same twist when he panicked. And that also meant his chances of performing solo again were climbing. He didn’t know how to feel about that part.

“Stop that!” She exclaimed, halting once they’d reached her car.

“Get some sleep, Annabeth,” He said genuinely then smirked a little, “It looks like you need it.”

She threw a balled-up receipt she’d found in her bag at him, “Dick!”

~~~~

“Hey, Nico.”

Nico nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning to see Persephone in the living room.

She snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. Did practice go well?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, “Yeah. Annabeth’s back.”

Persephone hummed, reaching up to untwist her hair, sending it cascading down her shoulders, “That’s good. I know you’ve missed her,” She said with a knowing look in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, definitely, um, I’m tired we learned some new moves for Regionals today, so,”

“Yeah of course.” She was still smiling.

“‘Night Persephone,”

~~~

Nico flopped face-down onto his bed with a groan. He knew Persephone though he had a crush on Annabeth; he didn’t blame her, he’d never really made it a point that he didn’t. He wished he could come out to her and his dad, he didn’t really have a reason why he hadn’t besides the weight of anxiety on his lungs.

His phone buzzed again, and he wriggled upright to yank it out of his pocket.

Will: Distract me

Will: My mom is driving me insane

Nico grinned to himself, both of them were dealing with mommy issues at the moment.

Nico: idk how you expect me to distract you

Will: Just tell me about snakes or smth

Nico: you think i just have fun facts about snakes on hand?

Will: Yeah?

Nico: good

Nico: cause i do

Will: :)

Nico: snakes can slither 12.5 mph

Will: Good lord

Nico: snakes have internal ears but not external ones

Will: ??

Nico: they can’t create their own body heat which is why theyre in the sun all the time

Will: Hmmmm

Nico: they smell w/their tongues

Will: I thought they had nostrils??

Nico: they do

Will: what

Nico: it’s their Jacobson’s organ my dude it works in mysterious ways

Nico: not really but yk

Nico: sCieNcE

Will: ok….

Nico: if you get bored of snakes i’ve also got a bunch of random cheetah facts

Nico: i love cheetahs

Nico: very cool

Nico: fast cats

Will: Lmao go ahead

Nico: but first

Nico: why’s your mom driving you insane

Nico: if you want to tell me ofc

Nico: not trying to be weird

Will: Nah you’re fine

Will: She wants me to focus entirely on med school and not hockey

Will: She’s trying to get me out of it, actually

Will: Do something ‘respectable’

Will: Not turn out like my dad

Will: Even though dad has literally NOTHING to do with hockey

Will: And in my opinion he’s not bad. Not great. Not awful yk

Will: But hockey’s what’s putting me through med school so

Will: Gods, I really just burdened you with that I’m so sorry

Nico: med school huh

Nico: now i can say i know a doctor

Will: In training

Nico: close enough

Nico: you’re a great hockey player and you're going to be a great doctor

Nico: and you can always talk to me, will

Nico: you’re not burdening me with shit

Will: thanks <3

Nico didn’t understand why he blushed. It was a goddamn emoji. Calm down, Di Angelo.

Will: So we’ve been talking for a few weeks now. Can I call you my friend yet?

Nico snorted, feeling like he was fifteen again, sprawled on his bed, in the dark (because for some reason he didn’t turn his lights on) late at night, texting his- well, anyway.

Nico: yea dumbass

Nico: we’re friends

Will: Nice

Will: Now give me cheetah facts you adorable nerd

~~~

WILL

“Will? You good?”

Will blinked, Jason coming in to focus in front of him. “Uh, yeah.”

“That was believable,” Clarisse said sarcastically from behind Jason.

Will attempted to shake the fog from his head, “Yes,” He repeated.

Jason just blinked at him and Will was formulating an excuse for why he was so tired besides the fact that he’d spent all night talking to a cute figure skater with a ridiculous amount of animal facts stored in his small body when Coach Hedge’s voice boomed from his seat on the bleachers, “Solace! You alive?”

“Yes, coach!” Will shot back.

“Then why are you just standing there? Get back to the game! You too, La Rue and Grace!”

“Yes, sir!” They all barked back.

Clarisse gave him a once over before skating back to her goal and Jason went over to Will’s spot with him, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Jason opened his mouth, probably to question why the mom friend of their group was tired enough he nearly tripped over his stick but Will just said, “It’s fine, Jase. It’s not a big deal.”

“Grace!” Coach Hedge screeched.

Jason gave up on trying to interrogate Will and skated back over to his spot.

~~~~

“Mama, please,” Will tried, but his mother cut him off.

“Willaim. Hush. How’s that girl you said you were dating?”

What?

He was silent for a beat too long.

“Oh, baby,” His mother’s thick southern accent drenched her words. “You broke up? I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods, Lou Ellen Blackstone.

Will and Lou Ellen had dated for two months a long time ago, and when they were still dating he’d told his mother about her to get her to back off of his personal life a little. Their break up hadn’t had a huge fallout, Lou Ellen had told him through tears in his living room that she was aromantic. They were still friends, had been even before they dated, actually, and talked to each other pretty regularly.

But the problem was, that had been three months ago, and he hadn’t told his mother about their breakup. He knew she’d ask why, and he didn’t want to out Lou Ellen or make her a devil in his mother’s eyes. So he’d procrastinated coming up with a reason until he’d forgotten about it entirely.

And now it had come back to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah we broke up a little while ago,” He forced himself to sound choked up, which wasn’t hard, giving the way his panicked brain was now sprinting in circles on his lungs. “I just didn’t disappoint you.” Probably the most honest thing he’d said in weeks, but that’ll be unpacked later.

“Honey,” She sighed sadly and Will didn’t know whether or not that was on his behalf or hers.

“Well, it’s okay, because I’m dating someone new.”

“Oh?” He could hear her spine straighten. “Is it someone I know?”

No, mom, it’s not one of the country girls I grew up with.

“No,” He winced at how southern he sounded. He’d been talking to his mother for five minutes. “You don’t know him.”

HIM. Good Gods, Will. Yeah, you came out as bi to your mom, but still, you haven’t actually mentioned a guy to her yet.

She was silent for so long his heart joined his brain in the track meet happening on top of his lungs. “What’s his name?”

He was so she’d spoken that he blurted, “Nico.”

What. The. Fuck. Willaim.

Apparently, his heart had won that damn track race.

“Well, what I was leading up to before you told me about what happened,”

Will hummed non-committally, trying not to sound like he was taking relieved breaths as she spoke.

“The family’s come for a reunion and you should bring that boy!” Will choked on his spit.

“Mom, I don’t know about-”

“No, William. There isn’t a set date yet so we can work around your schedule,” Fuck. “I insist, Will. I need to meet this boy you clearly like very much, even though all you’ve said is his name, a mother knows.”

Umm, what.

“Sure,” Will said, sounding a little strangled. “But we have a game this weekend.”

“Alright, William.” She sounded the way she always did when he brought up hockey. “But as I said, we can work around your schedule and his. Talk to him about it, and let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Will repeated. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up and he was left staring at the wilting daisies at his kitchen table.

What had he just done?

#skate into my heart au #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #nico x will #jason grace #annabeth chase #percy jackson #pjo fic #hoo fic #au #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #solangelo fic #will and nico

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adultingautistic · 4 years

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I was the one who asked if there's a way to tell if you experience sensory sensitivities or if what you experience is just neurotypical.

So for one, a couple days ago, my step-mom's friend's daughter was here. She's 9-years-old and my brother was "jokingly" scaring her and she would keep screaming at the very top of her lungs and I kept plugging my ears because it hurt. My brother made fun of me and said I was being "stupid" for doing that. To this day, I can't comprehend how her screaming didn't hurt his ears. It got to a point where even after she stopped for a while, it felt like my ears were ringing even though they weren't.

Ever since I was younger, I always told people "I have sensitive hearing" but I only told that to people because I don't like loud noises unless I can control it (music). I don't actually know if it's true that my hearing is sensitive or not, but I notice when I'm the only person plugging my ears, it makes me question. If I can avoid loud noises, I always make the choice to do so. When our dogs are barking and yowling a lot, I get irritated and I can't stand it. At school, I always avoided pep assemblies if I could because I always told people my hearing was too sensitive to deal with it. But at the same time, I don't know if I've experienced sensory overload caused by anything other than emotional sensory information, if that makes sense...

I get meltdowns and shutdowns, but I always associated them with stressful emotional moments, but I can't tell if other sensory input like sound or visuals also added to it.

There are textures I hate, like crayons, so through my entire life I have never used crayons if I was given a choice. Certain papers bother me a lot, but I've learned to deal with them. I notice when I'm the only person wearing a coat in cold weather. Textures bother me to a point where I'm glad I have to wear gloves at work because every time I touch something gross, dirty, or something that bothers me, I always end up washing my hands.

But at the same time, I can "deal" with these things ?

I experience same-fooding and I have ADHD and I experience SO many autism symptoms, but it's so hard to know if I am autistic because I have so much trauma and my ADHD is so bad and so is my depression and anxiety that I can't tell if certain things I experience are due to trauma, ADHD, or it actually is autism, but I can say that I watched a video about one person's experience with their autism and I cried because I related so much and my autistic friend says that it believes I might be autistic as well.

Original ask date: September 16th

Hi there! Thank you so much for putting in the work to describe your sensory experiences more in detail, so I can give you a better answer.

So upon reading this, no, this is not a neurotypical experience. You observed how neurotypicals respond- they don’t cover their ears. They don’t wear their coat. They touch the crayons and they don’t care about the type of paper.

All of these experiences you listed are sensory sensitivity, to a T. The fact that you are able to “deal” with it isn’t what makes you neurotypical- a neurotypical person doesn’t have to deal with it, because for them, there is nothing to be dealt with. So having to deal with it means there is something there that you’re dealing with- and that thing is sensory sensitivity.

Sensory sensitivity is one of the symptoms that overlaps between ADHD and autism. So it is entirely possible that your sensory-sensitive experiences are caused by your ADHD.

From this scientific study on children with ADHD:

One type of sensory processing problem is sensory over-responsivity or sensory hypersensitivity. That is, individuals respond to sensory stimuli in the way that is faster, longer, or more intense than what is expected. This response can be towards any types of sensory stimuli. Sensory over-responsivity can be considered as an independent diagnosis. For example, a child with tactile sensitivity or defensiveness might be defensive for hair-brushing and/or haircuts because she/he cannot tolerate it easily.

This sounds to me exactly like what you are experiencing.

It makes perfect sense that you would relate to autism experiences in this way, because sensory sensitivity and meltdowns are a very common symptom of autism, and it is one we share with ADHD.

But at the same time, I don't know if I've experienced sensory overload caused by anything other than emotional sensory information, if that makes sense... That makes total sense, and my question is...what else do you think causes sensory overload? Emotional sensory information IS sensory overload. That’s the cause of it. There are two things that contribute to overload in a brain: emotionally distress, and too much sensory input (such as touching Bad Textures or hearing Bad Sounds, etc.) This is exactly what overload is.

I get meltdowns and shutdowns, but I always associated them with stressful emotional moments, but I can't tell if other sensory input like sound or visuals also added to it. The answer is yes. Emotional distress and sensory distress compound each other. This means if you are emotionally upset, your ability to process sensory input is reduced. Or if you are experiencing sensory distress, then your ability to handle emotions is reduced. They are both things that “fill the overload tank” in your brain, and a person can get overloaded from either Too Much emotions OR Too Much sensory input OR a combo of both.

None of these experiences are neurotypical. Both are things experienced by people with ADHD and people with autism. Both ADHD and autism have a lot in common, and so people with one very often relate to the experiences of people with the other.

You also may have autism as well. It is very common for people who have one to also have the other. So if you feel you might have autism too, it can’t hurt to go and get tested for it. If there are some symptoms you experience that ADHD doesn’t explain, that is an indication you may have autism as well. But you are most certainly neurodiverse, and it makes perfect sense that you would related to autistic experiences regarding sensory experiences and meltdowns, because those are not neurotypical experiences at all.

#actuallyautistic #actually autistic #sensory input #sensory overload #meltdowns #shutdowns #overload #emotional overload #ADHD #comorbidity #submission

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

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The Nightmare in Lawrence

Winchester Sister! Reader

Words: 3874

Summary: Having not heard from their sister in a few weeks, Sam and Dean set out to find her. They discover that she is being terrorized by a dream demon in their hometown on Halloween.

Notes: Welcome to the final imagine in the Winchester October Takeover! I’ve loved writing all of these Sam and Dean imagines and I hope you guys have enjoyed reading them! For this, I did name it after the movie, but I’m doing my own version of dream demon. Also, this one takes place somewhere in season one. Happy Halloween!! Much love- Erin

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Dean was worried. Sam was too, but he was still upset, so he pretended not to care. Dean was really worried. This wasn’t just skipping town and finding a case to work on her own, Y/N was gone. She wasn’t calling or texting or writing any damn letters. Just like dad.

“She probably just doesn’t want to talk to us.” Sam noted bitterly. Dean gave his younger brother a look.

“Arguement or not, she would call.” The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes. “I know you’ve been gone, Sam, but that hasn’t changed.”

“Are you going to get on my case too?” Sam challenged. Dean clenched his jaw.

“I’m just saying that we always let each other know where we are. That’s how it’s always been.” He paced back and forth around the hotel room, checking his phone again. Still nothing.

“I thought she could handle herself.” Sam muttered to himself. Dean whirled around, grabbing his brother by the collar.

“Alright, knock it off Sam.” He barked. “She’s your sister damnit. Act like it.”

“She sure didn’t last time we saw her!” Sam snapped back. Before Dean could respond, his phone finally rang. Giving Sam a deadly glare, he answered.

“Y/N? Where the hell have you been? What are you-”

“Dean… something is wrong… I’m home, but I’m not.” Your voice cut in and out, making it hard to understand your words. “You… Sam… Dean, I’m scared… this isn’t right… please… I need…” In the background, Dean could just make out the sound of a melody.

“Mr. Sandman… bring me a dream…”The call cut out.

“Y/N!” The panicked sound in his brother’s voice broke through Sam’s bitterness.

“What is it?”

“She’s in trouble, Sammy. We’ve gotta find her.”

“Trouble how?” Sam knew his older sister was a skilled hunter. Maybe even better than Dean. If she was in danger, it was something big.

“I don’t know, but I’ve got a really bad feeling.” Dean slipped his arms into his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to the impala.

“Well what did she say, Dean?” Sam was packing up as fast as he could move, following his brother’s frantic footsteps.

“I’m home, but I’m not.” Dean repeated, confusing forming a line between his brows. The creepy tone of the song echoed in his head.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Dean glanced down at the silver band on his finger. A pang of guilt and worry shot through his heart. He tried to shake all of the awful images forming in his head. “But at least we know where to find her.”

Your fist was clenched around your phone and your tank top was drenched with sweat.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.” You repeated it over and over again, but the flames still burned in your head. It felt real. You threw the blankets off and held back a scream. A large burn covered your right thigh, your flesh seared and oozing. The pain spread up through your leg, making you grimace as you moved.

The nightmare, or whatever the hell it was, was still fresh in your mind. You were at the house. You really only remembered it from pictures now, but you knew it was the one. Your brothers were with you, but you weren’t kids. Sam was coming home from college and Dean had a day off from the garage with your dad. And your mom… she was there. Everything seemed fine. You were happy.

And then the fire started. It spread out from your mother’s chest like her bones were kindling. Your dad disappeared and your brothers changed. Their eyes were black and they were reaching out with bloody hands. It wasn’t them. You knew it wasn’t them. You remembered pulling out your cell phone and calling Dean.

After that, you woke yourself up somehow, but not before the fire reached you. But… it was a dream. It wasn’t real. You stared down at your mystery wound. Then how the hell…

You finally took notice of the phone in your hand. It still had the last call pulled up. You hit dial and braced yourself for the panicked voice on the other line.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What the hell happened!” Your older brother yelled. You had to hold the phone away from your ear.

“I don’t…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Did I call you last night, Dean?”

“Yeah you freaking called me! You said something about being home and you were scared and that something was wrong. So what the hell happened?”

“Dean, you need to calm down. I’m fine. I must have called you in my sleep.”

“Called me in your-” Dean scoffed, “Y/N what is going on?”

“Whatever it is, I’ve got it handled.” The last thing you needed was your paranoid big brother breathing down your neck on this case. You pulled your first aid kit out of your bag. You needed a clean towel. Hobbling to the door, you held the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “I don’t need your help on this one.”

You opened the door and let the phone fall to the floor.

“Too late.” Dean huffed, pushing past you into the motel room. To your surprise, your younger brother stood behind him, giving you a hard stare. You inhaled sharply.

“Hey Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.” He snapped. Dean shot him a look. You moved so he could come in and closed the door.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” You asked, ignoring the sting of Sam’s coolness.

“I could ask you the same thing. What’re you doing back in Lawrence? On Halloween?”

“I’ve got a case, okay? My case. And I don’t need you sniffing around to screw it up.”

“Oh my God, Y/N what happened to your leg?” Sam exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look at your injury. You shoved him away.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean dug through your kit.

“Sit down.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and plopped down on your bed, letting him examine the wound.

“I can handle this, Dean. You didn’t have to drag Sam out here.”

“You called me, remember? Now stop squirming.”

“I didn’t mean to call.” You said, annoyed with your subconscious. It was just a nightmare. You didn’t need your over-protective brothers to save you from a nightmare. Even if it did somehow spill into real life. You winced as Dean lightly touched the burn. “Careful!”

“Don’t be a baby.” He fired back, but you could see the worry in his expression.

“How did you get that?” Sam asked. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. You were sure he was asking out of mere curiosity, rather than genuine concern. You tried to think of a lie, but with both brothers’ eyes burning into you, you couldn’t figure out anything convincing.

“I don’t know.” You gritted your teeth to hold back a pained groan. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. You think I haven’t had to treat a burn before?” Dean snapped. It was half true. Sam was still staring at you.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know, Sam. I woke up and my leg was barbequed.” Your brother’s exchanged a glance. Sam shifted his weight, rocking back on his heels.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“What?”

“In your dream, was there a fire or anything that could have caused a burn like that?” He pulled your father’s journal out of his jacket pocket and started searching. You bit the inside of your cheek. If you told them, they would think you couldn’t handle this alone. And after Andrew… you had to do this alone. To prove to yourself that you could still save someone.

“All I remember from the dream is a couple of dancing munchkins and a pair of red boots.” You spat. Sam’s lips formed a thin line, his fists balled up at his sides.

“Okay, you two, quit it.” Dean ordered. He bandaged up the burn the best he could and helped you stand before nearly tackling you in an embrace. “I thought whatever got Dad…” He trailed off, pushing away to give you a stern glare. “Never do that again.”

“Dean, I’m not thirteen anymore. I can handle myself.” You scoffed, feeling uncomfortable under his hard stare.

“If you’re going to go it alone, you call me once a week. That’s the rule.” His protective arms wrapped around you again, but you didn’t fight them.

You and Dean had always been close. With dad out on cases all the time, Dean practically raised you and Sam. He showed you how to fix up cars and he taught you how to drive them. When you had your heart broken in middle school by some asshole with a bowl cut, Dean was there to pick up the pieces- and give the kid a fat lip. He bought you your first beer and the two of you watched scary movies while Sam studied for some test.

“I’m sorry.” You conceded. You looked over to the youngest Winchester and he quickly looked away.

Your relationship with Sam had strained since he left for school. When you were kids, the two of you were practically inseparable. As the middle child, you were constantly resolving fights between him and Dean. Sam always went to you for help on his homework, even though he was the brainiac. You were sure he knew what he was doing, but he wanted to make you feel important. Little Sammy with his bright smile and hopeful eyes. He made you feel like you could do anything. When he left… you just felt stuck.

Maybe that’s the real reason you lashed out at him in Omaha.

“Well, you’ve checked in on me. I’m alive.” You started to usher both of them towards the door. “I promise I’ll call next time. Bye bye, boys.” You almost had them out of the room, but Sam jerked away.

“Wait a second, we’re not just going to leave.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Something is seriously going on here.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sam.”

“Right, and that’s why you called us begging for help.”

“Well I don’t want or need your help, okay?”

“Why? Do you think I’ll screw this one up too?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What was it you said? I should have stayed in school instead of pretending to be one of you.”

“I said a lot of things that day, Sammy.” And you regretted every damn one of them.

“It’s Sam!”

You hadn’t realized you were stepping towards each other until he was towering over you, seething with anger and hurt.

“Alright, that’s it!” Dean shouted, shoving in between the two of you. He pushed his little brother back and kept his eyes on you. “Sam, go out to the car.”

“Dean-”

“Now!”

Sam huffed and slammed the hotel room door behind him. Dean’s furious eyes remained on you.

“He started it.” You snapped. Dean ignored it.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. We both know you wouldn’t step foot in Lawrence if it wasn’t something big. So what is it?” He was right. Lawrence was just full of bad memories that you never wanted to revisit. But when you heard about what was going on, you couldn’t leave it be. Dean put his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place until you told him the truth.

“I got a call from a psychic named Missouri Moseley. Said she knows dad.” You started, recalling the events as you told him. “She said there were some strange deaths going on around here. People dying in their sleep, but not in a peaceful way. They would go to bed perfectly healthy and someone would find them the next morning, bloody and butchered. Each one with a look of absolute terror frozen on their face.”

“So what’re you thinking it is? Some kind of string of hexes? Pissed off ghost?”

“No, it’s bigger than that.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “I did some research and I think what’s terrorizing our home town is a dream demon.” Dean made a face.

“What, like Freddy Krueger?”

“Kind of.” You rummaged through your piles of research on your desk until you found the book you wanted. “Like any other demon, the bastard has to possess someone. Once they do, they have the power to enter the minds of people they come in contact with.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that they can kill someone inside a dream.”

“So Freddy Krueger.”

“Yes, Dean, like Freddy Krueger.” You rolled your eyes at your brother’s endless amount of references. And he called you the dork. Dean’s expression turned serious.

“Wait, so you decided to go after this thing alone?” He asked angrily.

“I had it covered.”

“Obviously not, because that thing got in your head!” He pointed to your leg and you tried not to look at his face. “Whatever happened in your dream, somewhere in that stubborn ass head of yours decided to call me and I’m glad it did.”

You knew, deep in your persistent heart, that he was right. You shouldn’t have tried to take this on by yourself. After Andrew you weren’t thinking straight. Andrew…

Dean sighed.

“I know that things have sucked for you lately and I haven’t been there. But you have to let me be there, kid. I can’t help you if you run off on a case by yourself.”

“I don’t need-” Looking at him now, you couldn’t lie anymore. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around your big brother. “Thank you.” Dean hugged you back, keeping you in a strong embrace until it was time to go.

Sam was cooling down in the car. He couldn’t get Andrew’s face out of his head. Didn’t Y/N realize that it haunted him too? That the sounds of the Acheri ripping the man apart added to his nightmares?

Andrew was a sheriff that the three had run into on a vengeful spirit case. Instead of shutting the hunters out, he helped the Winchesters defeat the creature that was destroying his town. Y/N, despite all her walls and barricades, fell for him. Both brothers warned her that it was a bad idea, but they started seeing each other. After burning the bones, they thought the case was over. Sam was so sure of it.

He was with Andrew when it happened. His siblings were out getting more beer and Andrew was telling him that he really liked Y/N. He said he was willing to make this crazy hunter life work if it meant being with her. The guy was smitten. Sam remembered being happy that at least one of them could have a happy ending. It reminded him of his almost-life with Jessica. He should have known how things would turn out.

The vengeful spirit was really an Acheri; a demon that takes the form of a little girl. He tried to stop it, but it was a strong son of a bitch. It was about to shred Sam when Andrew pushed him out of the way. He died to save him.

It wasn’t until after the funeral that his sister broke down. She said it was his fault. She had suggested that maybe the creature wasn’t a spirit, but he convinced her otherwise. She said a real hunter would have known. That he didn’t belong there. He should have stayed at Stanford. Dean, of course, ripped her a new one and Sam stormed off alone. She vanished soon after.

You listed every person you could remember being in contact with the day prior and Dean started the impala. You glanced pleadingly at your little brother, but Sam stared out the window. Dean gave you a small smile.

“Let’s start with the coroner.” You suggested. “She seemed oddly eager about this whole situation.” Dean nodded and started down the road.

You leaned your head back, feeling a rush of exhaustion. You had only gotten maybe two hours of sleep, and even then, the nightmare had kept your mind from resting. Your sudden fatigue didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean asked. You nodded, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. He rolled his eyes and kept driving, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. He put in a cassette tape and let the sounds of Metallica fill the car. Enter the Sandman. Huh. Kind of ironic.

You couldn’t have closed your eyes for more than a few seconds. You were just so tired…

“Dean, stop the car!” Sam yelled suddenly. Dean slammed on the breaks when he saw his sister’s unconscious face. This wasn’t a peaceful nap. Something was wrong. You started jerking back and forth, your body restrained by your seatbelt.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, flinging the driver’s side door open and getting into the back seat. “Sam! What do we do?” Sam panicked, searching his memory for anything he knew about the demon. Unfortunately, none of the facts brought any comfort.

“If it’s in her head… there’s nothing we can do.” He watched you thrash with a look of desperation.

“What do you mean there’s nothing we can do!”

“Dream demons can’t be exercised when they’re in a dream.”

“We can’t just let it kill her!”

“There might be a way… but it’s risky.”

“I don’t care what it is, we are not losing anyone else in this family, Sammy.” Dean clutched your hand, the terror on your face shooting pain through his heart. His baby sister was crying out for help and he didn’t know how.

“We’ve got to find that coroner.”

Sure enough, you were right. When Sam and Dean found the coroner, she was passed out on her desk with a broad smile on her face. The demon must not be able to invade two minds at once.

“Now what?” Dean asked, carrying your flailing body inside.

“I think…” Sam hesitated. Would this really work? “I think if we can get inside the demon’s head, we can get inside Y/N’s.”

“And kick the demon out so we can send it back to hell?”

“Exactly.”

“How do we get in its head?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

“Well, it works through who it has physical contact with right?” Dean nodded. “Well, then theoretically…” Sam slowly put his hand on the woman’s shoulder and collapsed on the floor.

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. There was no other option now. He set you down besides Sam. “Don’t worry, kid, we’re comin to get you.” Without hesitation, he grabbed the woman’s arm and fell into a deep sleep.

“Sam! Y/N!” Dean yelled into the dark and empty house. Sam appeared at the end of the hall. “Did you find her?” He shook his head. Dean looked around. “Where the hell are we?”

“In Y/N’s head.” Sam grimaced, surveying their grim surroundings. He recognized it almost immediately. “This is where Andrew died.”

The Winchester brothers tread carefully through the halls. It wasn’t until they climbed the stairs that they heard their sister’s screaming. They sprinted towards the noise, finding you in the corner of the bedroom, pinned against the wall. The manifestation of a little girl clawed a large mark down your chest. You tried to bite back your scream, but you couldn’t help it.

Lying on the bed was the torn up body of Andrew.

“Sam! Dean! Run!” You cried. You couldn’t bear to lose them too. They stood their ground.

“Y/N, you have to fight it. If we can get this thing out of your head, we can send it back to hell!” Sam shouted.

“I can’t!” You screamed again as the demon scratched your face.

“Get away from her!” Dean lunged forward and the demon tossed him like a rag doll.

“Dean!” Sam started after him, but the demon overpowered him as well.

“No!” You struggled against the force keeping you back. The demon morphed into Andrew, but instead of his soft blue eyes, they were menacing and yellow.

“This is what you fear the most, isn’t it?” The demon sneered, using Andrew’s voice against you. Sam and Dean were lifted up to the ceiling. “Losing them to ol’ Yellow-Eyes. You’re afraid you’ve already lost daddy and big and baby brother are soon to follow. You’re afraid you’ll be left all alone.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Dean shouted.

“Are you just going to let it happen, Y/N?” The demon laughed. “Look at little Sammy. He’s not ready to die.”

“This is just in my head. This isn’t real.” You muttered, screwing your eyes shut.

“Wrong-o. Looks like the Winchester boys crashed the party. If they burn in here…” The demon made the motion of an explosion with his hands. He cackled at your horrified expression. You looked up at your brothers, both of them writhing from pain. Just like mom. You took a deep breath and prayed that this would work.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…”

“You little bitch.” The demon snapped. He moved forward, but was stopped by the devil’s trap that you had conjured.

“We’re in my head, remember?” You continued the incantation. Dean looked impressed and Sam couldn’t help but smile. You had studied the exorcism together after the demon from the plane. The demon shrieked and Sam and Dean fell.

The boys woke up. You didn’t.

You weren’t thrashing anymore, either. You were totally still. Dean was frozen, staring down at you, trying to hold back his pain.

“Y/N?” Sam whispered, kneeling over you. “Come on, wake up.” He gently shook your shoulders. “Y/N wake up.”

“Sam-”

“She thinks I hate her, Dean.” Sam cried, desperately trying to get you to open your eyes. “My own sister. I never said I was sorry. I never… oh god, she thinks I hate her!” Sam buried his head in your shoulder and Dean was forced to watch. He couldn’t move or breathe or talk. It wasn’t until he saw the slightest flutter of movement that he was able to join Sam by your side.

“Hey kid.” Dean smiled as your eyes slowly opened. Sam snatched you up in an embrace before you could even sit up.

“I thought you were… I was so…” He stammered, squeezing you tighter. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry too, Sammy.”

The two of you sat there for a while. When you finally pulled away, you were immediately pulled into Dean’s arms.

“That was pretty badass in there.” He chuckled. You smirked.

“Well I couldn’t let Dream Douche hurt my boys, could I?” The three of you laughed. A low, rumbling growl sounded from the awakening woman.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean groaned. You weren’t finished yet. The demon still had to be exorcised from the coroner before it could hurt anyone else.

The three Winchesters gathered around it and you leaned in as it’s black eyes opened.

“Trick or treat?” You spat, landing a knock-out punch to its face.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#Happy Halloween #winchester takeover #october #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #winchester sister #halloween #demons #dreams #sandman

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with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

Charm me first

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Summary: Your friends dare you to talk to the very infamous marauders group and you end up becoming good friends. Warnings: It’s just fluff, no warnings to give! Word Count: 1,792

It was the night. Your friends and you had a pact. Every Saturday, one member of the group would be challenged on a dare and the person had to do it. Today was your turn. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends, they knew their limits and wouldn’t give something more intense than a laughable joke; nothing to embarrass someone. But that didn’t let you from worrying. Last time you were dared to make small talk with the bloody baron and laughs aside, it was not a good experience. Wouldn’t recommend.

“The weather’s nice, isn’t it? You asked the terrifying ghost as it floated through the corridor.

He looked at you as if you were an insect, scrutinizing you under his icy glare. You knew you must have then looked you were dead all color draining from your face. He raised an eyebrow pondering whether you would turn and flee or not. When you didn’t, he begrudgingly answered, “Yes” and floated away faster than ever.

You got ready and went down to the hogsmede with the rest of the school. You all sat in a comfortable corner at the Rosemeta’s. You fidgeted, your patience wavering more and more each second. Your friends all gave you mischievous smirks, having already discussed the dare. You all had a few butterbeers, feeling the warm tingling in your throat.

“So, you ready for your dare?” Ruuhaan said raising his bottle to the tip of his mouth.

You took in a deep breath. Were you?

“Yes” you said even though your brain screamed-“hell no.”

“Okay,” said Grace slowly. “See that rowdy Gryffindor group behind you?”

You widened your eyes not having to turn to guess who they were talking about. Ruuhaan snickered at your reaction. You slowly turned to see your guess was right. There they were, the center of attraction of every person enjoying at the pub. They looked like popular band. You had talked to Remus a couple of times in the library. He was… cute. James and Sirius however, were loud and full of mischief. Even though you'd never talked to them you were scared. You looked at Grace silently pleading her to tell you the awful thing you had to do, because if you would wait any longer you felt like you could burst. Grace smiled. Did she have to?

“You have to go there and flirt with all three of them. We want to see them charmed by you.” She winked.

You squeezed your eyes shut throwing your head up in frustration.

“You guys are the worst.” You said as you took a shot of firewhiskey and getting up. So, how were you going to play this?

“We love you too. We’ll come when we think you’ve done your job.” Ruuhaan said with a snort.

As you walked towards their table you felt a pleasant hum of the shot you just took.

“Hey boys!” you said in a flirty tone wincing at how it sounded.

The notorious group turned to face you and suddenly you lost all the confidence you had mustered up. You wet your lips and took a deep breath.

“Umm… You see my friends there at the back—don’t look! Yeah they gave me a dare to flirt with you and charm you? Can you please please just play along and act like I’m doing it?” You said looking at their expressions. Remus gave you a little smile and a nod of understanding while James barked out a laugh.

“No can do doll, looks like you would have to charm us.” Sirius said with a smug look on his face, eyes glinting. He said charm using his hands to emphasize on it and cocked an eyebrow daring you.

“That does seem fair.” James said with the same sparkle in his eyes. You huffed. So you had no other choice. You summoned a chair and popped down between James and Sirius. You put both your elbows on the table taking your face in your hands.

“Oh yeah?” you said in an amused tone.

Sirius smirked. James let out a little- “Yup” popping the p. Remus looked at you judging your every move. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew how nervous you were. Mustering every bit of courage you had, you turned towards James giving him your best smile. If you couldn't flirt with them you could at least talk and not make a complete fool of yourself.

“So, James I heard you were practicing hell a lot for the next season of quidditch” you asked remembering how he was the captain.

He nodded, grinning.

“You wanna hear what I heard?” you asked cocking your eyebrow. James let out a little hum.

“Have you seen James training? He has such an amazing body! The way his muscles flex—oof!” You said in a high pitched tone imitating the girl in the washroom making James blush. Did you just make James Fleamont Potter blush?!?

“Well,” James said slowly taking a sip of the butterbeer. “I’m fit. Everyone in the team is. We have to be; to perform properly, to remain active. Let’s be honest, Hogwarts food is the best and you couldn’t help but eat the delicious treats way more than you require!”

“Shush you! Being modest! I can see what the girl was talking about!” you said eyeing him playfully. You tried your best not to make any of them uncomfortable. And the blushing grin that James gave you and the snorts by the others proved you were on the right track.

Conversation flowed freely after that. They were actually really nice to talk to. You flirted with Remus a bit, confessing how cute he always looked in those reading glasses and called him an adorable dork. James and you teased each other occasionally and you found he could make anyone laugh and at ease. As for Sirius, well you could say he was every bit of the playboy everyone deemed him to be. He never not flirted back and make you flush under his gaze.

“Doll,” Sirius said looking at you. “I must say I am glad your friends made you come here today. I would have stuck with your memory of being one the studious girls who never look up from their books.”

“You say that as if you like me now!” you teased.

“Oh but I do.” He said with so much honesty in his voice that it made you double take things. Right then, Ruuhaan came up behind you placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(Y/n), we are leaving”

“Yeah” you said nodding as you got up to leave.

“It was really nice to see you guys today” you said with a sincere smile.

And it was. You were secretly glad too that you talked to these three charming boys. Especially Sirius. You shook your head. You and him could never happen. He did not mean those things he was being nice. And you had to ignore the butterflies that tingled your stomach whenever he looked at you. You were pretty sure that was the last time you would ever have a one on one conversation with him. He was smart, funny and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Almost everyone had a low-key crush on him and maybe you did too now. He was an amazing listner and you didn't think he would ever have the time to talk to you again.

But apparently life was full of surprises. Sirius would be there beside you almost every other day in the library, making efforts to talk to you. You couldn’t complain. Conversations with him were always very interesting and never failed to leave a smile on your face. He would help you with your studies knowing you get anxious over your grades.

As time passed on; you felt comfortable reaching out to him on your own. You two would be seen together talking about anything and everything. He told you about his family, making you wonder how could something as trivial as Hogwarts house or the purity of blood set someone off so much. Your heart ached for him. Sometimes you two would just sit quietly beside each other watching James practice quidditch. And maybe the silences you two shared said the most things. And the lame crush build on into so much more. You loved him. But you would be damned if you let it come between the two of you.

***

“What does he even see in her?” you heard shushed voices behind you. You were studying in the library.

“Oh come on! (Y/n) is not someone Sirius likes! He is just with her because he pities her!”

“Hmm… How could he be with someone like her!”

You gulped. You shouldn’t have overheard this. You knew they were some cranky mean students, but… did he really pity you?

“How’s my favorite girl doing?” Sirius asked as he plopped down beside you. You frowned.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” you said. You had seen how Sirius had stopped flirting around. But insecurity was like an insect crawling inside you making you disregard everything that was present just before your eyes. He never told you he liked you more than a friend. Maybe afterall it was just your thoughts.

“But I just did.” He said raising his eyebrows. You scoffed.

“I am so not your favorite girl!”

Sirius frowned.

“Hey!” he said making you turn towards him. “What is the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“No it’s not. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“I LIKE YOU, OKAY!” you shouted not able to take it anymore. “I just heard some students talking shit like you are with me because you pity me and I hate it. I like you and I can’t pretend any differently.”

“That’s good, ‘cause I like you too.” Sirius smirked, and then stopped looking at you.“I thought you knew!”

“No. No, I didn’t.” you said failing to keep the hope spreading across your face. “It doesn’t hurt to hear it.” You said in a small voice.

Sirius let out a laugh. He came forward placing his hands on the either side of your waist.

“Charm me first.” He said wriggling his eyebrows. You smirked.

“Sirius, the most handsome man to walk this planet; you’re sweet, charming and an absolute dork. You could make people smile and you help everyone without asking anything ever in return. And your laugh, your laugh is jus-“ you were cut off as Sirius pressed his lips to yours.

“You could just smile and I would be done for.” Sirius said making you blush.

Just then James came behind you both whistling, Remus near him having a look of a proud mom.

A/N: Let me know what you think!

#sirius #sirius black #siriusxreader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #harry potter #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #my work #sirius imagine #sirius black imagine #harry potter imagine #Anu writes

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brokutosan · 4 years

Text

Title. Burnt Out, Part Two

Pairing. Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which he’s intoxicated and opens up about things he never got the chance to. Part two of Burnt Out, Suna Rintaro’s point of view.

Warnings. Excessive intake of alcohol, cursing, and manga spoilers.

Suna Rintaro started dating his long-term girlfriend L/N Y/N in highschool. She was the type who kept to herself and had a small, yet golden, circle of friends. She got along well with his volleyball team because she had a great personality, and she went along with teasing their friend Miya Atsumu.

He met her when he was in preschool and he made her cry because he accidentally took her chuupet. His mom made him apologize and they bonded over a whole pack his mom bought for them to share. A few years later, he realized he liked her in his last year of middle school, when he got upset over losing his last competition with the team and she was there to cheer him up with a pack of chuupet.

He admits he’s not one for romantic gestures, but his feelings for her were always sincere. Growing up, Suna lacked the energy nor the personality to make much friends, so he was always relieved knowing she was there. They grew up together, and that’s something Suna would never replace. He associates his childhood with her and their love for chuupets.

Throughout their relationship he tried his best to show he appreciated her. Though what he liked best about her was that he didn’t need to try. He always assumed she knew and she understood his actions. After joining a pro team he got a bit busier, but he assumed she would understand.

“Quit assuming Y/N-chan’s gonna stick around for your shit. Sure, she’s always been the best of us for understanding your...detachment to everyone else, but she ain’t a saint. Get ‘yer shit together or she might just finally up and leave.” Atsumu once told him, but Suna tries not to dwell in anything the piss haired dumbass tells him. But what he said was true.

Which is why Suna decided to gamble. He told his teammates and the twins that if he won the next three consecutive games and the team placed top three in the league, he’d finally propose. Osamu told him not to gamble with life, his teammates told him not to blame them if they lose, and Atsumu rejoiced and called him brilliant. Suna’s not sure how he feels about their response, but he’s willing to risk it. Because it’s for her.

After the third win Suna went with his team to celebrate, mostly because he was in a good mood and because he was nervous yet excited at the same time. But then she called.

What if she found the ring he loosely hid in his sock drawer? What if she thinks it’s for someone else? Oh god, what if she thinks he’s cheating on her? What if-

“Actually-” “By the way-”

He lets her go first because he cares like that. But suddenly he wishes he didn’t.

“I don’t think we’re in love anymore.” Oh. With that one sentence all the pride and joy brimming up his body is flushed down by sorrow and dread. Color drains from his face and he feels like he’d stopped breathing. Suddenly all those “what-ifs” didn’t sound so bad anymore.

“I’ll pack my bags while you’re at work tomorrow.” Suna ends the call there because he’s scared she might hear his life crashing down through the phone. Still a bit shocked, Suna lets his body slide down the dingy alleyway. No tears fall because he’s not an emotional person like that, but the turmoil in his head makes him itch for a distraction.

He hears the loud cheers of his teammates inside the bar and finds the perfect solution.

“Rintaro-kun, get ahold of yourself!” Komori Motoya whisper-yells at his intoxicated teammate. Said intoxicated teammate is currently stumbling over his own two feet as he tries to walk in a straight line with one arm slung over Komori’s shoulders.

Komori mumbles a few strings of curses as he drags the man to the elevator. “Why did you even drink this much?” He asks no one in particular, mainly because the man in question was too busy laughing at his own reflection in the elevator mirror.

Komori remembers that MSBY has an away game, which probably means they’re all together in a hotel or probably running late with practice, and decides to call Sakusa for help. Much needed help, as he hears another groan from Suna. If he pukes - no, he won’t even think about it. Shaking his head, Komori pulls out his phone and dials a number. It rings four times, before his cousin’s cranky voice mumbles out, “Hello?”

“Sakusa! Is Miya still around?” Komori urgently grunts out, simultaneously hoisting up his teammate who’s currently being dragged down by gravity and alcohol. “What could you possibly need from that moron?” He can imagine the scowl on his cousin’s face, but he decides to focus on more important matters.

Like the idiot now hanging loosely on his shoulders. Suna’s a bit taller, so Komori has to drag his feet through the floor with one arm and keep his phone pressed to his ear with one hand. “Tell him it’s about Rintaro-kun.” There’s rustling and the sound of the phone being handed off to someone else, and then Atsumu’s croaking out a, “What-,” obvious that he was awoken from his sleep.

Komori’s not in the right state of mind to feel any remorse, so he gets to the point. “Miya, do you know Rintaro-kun’s girlfriend’s number?”

“Why?” Atsumu grumbles, still half asleep. The sound of a boisterous laughter through the phone snaps him awake, though, as he recognizes the familiar sound. “Holy shit!” He shoots up, sheets strewn on the floor. Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a crime.

“Komori, listen - whatever he does, make sure you get it on camera!” (Komori hears Sakusa mumble, “You’re a shitty person,” and Atsumu bark back with a, “Shut ‘yer trap, Omi-kun!”) Choosing to ignore his idiocy, Komori urges on, “Do you know her number or not?”

“I mean yeah, but if ‘Taro’s that drunk then I’m pretty there’s problems with Y/N-chan.” Komori feels a vein pop, both because Suna’s weight is really starting to push down on his shoulders, and because Atsumu’s proving himself to be pretty useless in this situation.

“I don’t care anymore! Can you just text me her number so I can drop this idiot off?” Komori huffs. Atsumu hums and hangs up, seconds later texting him Y/N’s number. He hands Sakusa (who’s now unsurprisingly wearing gloves) back his phone and plops back down to his comfy hotel room bed, remembering to check on his friend the next morning.

Komori finally makes it to the address sent to him by Suna’s girlfriend after about thirty minutes of dragging the said man through crowds and avoiding the judgemental looks from people passing by.

He wastes no time in pressing the doorbell before he’s met face to face with the girlfriend-in-question. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks about as bad as Suna does, though a lot more sober. Miya was right. He thinks to himself. Relationship problems, huh?

“Ah, thank you for bringing him home safely, Komori-san!” She bows. Her voice is strangled and hoarsed, but the politeness is still there. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, I can take him from here.” Y/N holds out her arms, and perhaps because of how heartbroken she looks, Komori gently shakes his head.

“I can set him down on the couch. He’s not exactly lightweight, you see.” She simply nods, not having enough energy to go back and forth over the matter. “Thank you so much.” She says with another bow. Once Suna’s bodyweight is off his shoulders and he can feel his full body again, Komori waves his hand to show that it was no big deal.

He silently hopes he’s not overstepping, before mumbling on his way out, “I hope you two work it out.” She responds with a weak smile and another bow before locking the door behind him.

Finally alone again, Y/N steps towards her now-ex boyfriend, and decides to help him feel more comfortable by removing his shoes. Suna complies by grumbling something that can’t be understood, so Y/N continues with cleaning him up.

“Sit up real quick, ‘Taro.” She whispers. Suna obeys and sits up with his eyes still closed. His movement releases a whiff of beer and his usual cologne. Y/N has to hold her breath because of the pungent scent, but she continues to care for him with gentle hands.

Suna opens his eyes and though everything is still blurry, he could easily recognize her anywhere. He grabs hold of one of wrist that was busy yanking off his coat from his body and pulls her closer to him. She slightly falls down on where he’s seated on the couch, but she catches herself before she could completely crash down on him.

“Hi.” Suna mumbles into her neck.

“Hey. Let’s get you into some more comfortable clothes, ‘Taro.” Y/N tries to pry herself off him, but his hold on her tightens and now she finds herself engulfed into his chest with two strong arms wrapping around her frame. “Don’t wanna. Just wanna stay here.”

“Okay.” Y/N decides there’s point arguing with an intoxicated man and allows herself to melt into his hold.

But then she remembers their conversation from earlier, and her cruel decision of breaking it off without an explanation. Guilt overwhelms her and soon she attempts to pry herself off again, and this time she’s successful. Suna whines.

“Come back.” His voice is an unfamiliar pitch higher and he’s making grabby motions at her with his arms. “Try to sober up a little first, okay?” Y/N calms him down before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

It only took ten seconds for Suna to follow suit, albeit still drunk and wobbly, but he is able to hold himself up until he grabs hold of her from behind, her warmth heating up his frozen body once again. “Don’t leave me.” Y/N’s not sure if he means now, or in general. Does he even remember their phone call?

Nontheless, he isn’t in his right mind, and Y/N doesn’t want to say anything that might cause him to react wildly. “Okay, let’s sit down though, yeah?” Suna nods, and his hair tickles the back of her neck. They awkwardly shuffle through the kitchen back to the couch, where Suna continues to snuggle into her chest. Y/N finds herself combing her hand through his tangled hair, somehow finding comfort in this rare display of affection.

They stay like that for a couple minutes, Y/N sitting awkwardly down on the couch and Suna’s overgrown body slumped over hers as he clings onto her waist for dear life. Y/N decides not to beat around the bush and tries to clear the elephant in the room.

“Did this happen because of what I said?” It’s a stupid question, and Y/N knows the answer to it, but she doesn’t know why she needs to hear it coming from him. Suna only nods, not once breaking away from his hold on her.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Y/N offers. Maybe, if he’s being this uncharacteristically clingy right now, then he’d be more comfortable with opening up.

“Don’t leave me.” Suna mumbles again, this time Y/N can feel the desperation in his voice.

“I won’t. Not right now, at least. But we need to talk about it.” Y/N’s hand is still combing through his dark locks, and for a second she thinks he fell asleep because of it, but he speaks up again.

“If I ignore it will you take back what you said?” Suna tries to bargain. Y/N lets herself laugh, though it comes out choked because of how dry her throat was from crying. The sound however, makes Suna lift his head up from its place on her chest, his chin resting just above her breasts as he stares straight into her eyes.

“I’m being serious right now.” Everything about him is delirious, but his eyes scream that she should listen to what he’s about to say.

“I don’t know what changed, but I’m sorry if it’s because of something I did.” Y/N can easily tell that he’s just starting to sober up, but not enough for him to totally pull away or stop talking yet. “It was because of something Atsumu said,” She finds herself confessing. Perhaps she hasn’t totally sobered up from the bottle of wine she finished a few hours ago.

“That bastard.”

“- back in highschool.” Suna shows no remose towards what he said. Highschool school or now, Atsumu is still Atsumu, and he said what he said.

“When you guys fought over who’s fault it was when you lost a game, he told me I was dating a rock.” Suna tilts his head in confusion (and Y/N tries not to make it too obvious that she’s getting ticklish every time he moves). “A rock?” He grumbles with a scowl on his face. (He totally looks like an angry puppy right now, but Y/N decides that this isn’t the right time to gush over it).

“And then I got a wedding invitation from Mika and Daishou-kun. I drank a little too much too, so my thoughts just spiraled down negatively.” Y/N sighs as she relives the emotional turmoil she went through that evening. “I let my emotions and something Atsumu said years ago get the best of me, and I really hurt you. I’m sorry, ‘Taro.” Y/N doesn’t notice the tears streaming down her face as she cups his face in her hands. Suna leans into her touch and hums.

“I think I can understand what Atsumu said, though.” Suna mumbles out. He gets up from his comfortable spot, and Y/N feels herself missing his warmth right away.

And then he heads into the bedroom, much more sober now, and Y/N stares at him him out of curiosity. He comes back out within seconds with something in his hand and sets it down on the coffee table as he sits back down next to her. Y/N gasps.

“I told myself that I was gonna do this after winning three consecutive games. I think I was gonna do it even if we didn’t, though.” Y/N switches her gaze between her lover and the velvet box that contained a ring.

The ring itself was simple, yet elegant. There’s a single big diamond sitting in the middle of a silver band, and its beauty makes up for its simplicity. The ring is true to Suna’s character, though she suspects some of his friends had a say in picking the ring (there’s no way Suna would have been able to decide on it himself).

“This wasn’t how I planned for it to go down, but I feel like if I don’t do it now, I might not get another chance.” There’s a certain sincerity in his eyes and desperation in his voice that makes Y/N’s heart ache, both out of happiness and guilt for what she did earlier that night.

“I know I’m not gonna be the best husband - hell, I wasn’t even close to being the best boyfriend - but what I do know for sure is that there’s no one else I’d want to be with other than you.” Suna grabs the box from the table and gets down on one knee in front of the couch, where she’s still seated with tears streaming down her face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to open up more. I won’t let you get bothered by something that idiot said in highschool again, and I’ll make sure you’ll never have to question my love again.” Suna finishes with a smile, “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

Y/N doesn’t trust her voice so she chooses to nod vigorously instead, launching herself into his welcoming arms. He falls back from the impact but his hold on her is still tight. Everything is in place again, and the figurative fire between them sparks again. If they tried hard enough, even a burnt out match can still be relit.

“Wanna mess around and pretend we broke up because of what Atsumu said?”

A/N. Also another re-uplod. Thank you for reading! You can tell I was pushing my ‘komori is team mom’ agenda bc I love my boy. Anyways, sorry if the ending got a bit cheesy but I don’t really know how to write it without making it cheesy - chuu

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq oneshot #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro scenario #suna rintaro oneshot #suna rintaro x reader

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comebackbehere23 · 4 years

Text

Here’s to the weirdest crossover I could write!

Kimberly finds out about Shelby first.

Unlike her baby sister, Kimberly isn’t naive and wondering. She doesn’t have a heart of gold, or stars in her eyes. She doesn’t picture their mother with a crown on her head or imagine that she is some superhero; Kimberly thinks she’s a coward. This woman, their mother, let them both go. Kimberly knows technically there was nothing the woman could do to keep them, but that does nothing to quell the bitterness that fills her whenever she is young and her dads keep her home on the days they make Mother’s Day cards in class.

Sometimes, late at night, Kimberly lays in bed and remembers the vague memory of a voice crooning showtunes to her. And on those nights, if she closes her eyes and thinks hard enough, she can picture the image of a sharp jawline and dark eyes. Her dads tell her it’s all in her head, but it isn’t till she is standing at the mouth of the auditorium where Jesse St. James and Shelby Corcoran stand that she realizes that it was never a dream. It was a memory. It was a memory of her mother.

“St. James!”

Kimberly stops breathing for a second when heads quickly snap her way, and she blinks in awe at how much Rachel resembles their mother. All Kimberly sees of herself when she looks at Shelby is her jawline, and that’s even a reach. A harsh breath blows through her nose as she crosses her arms over her chest and marches down the steps so she can stand at the bottom of the stage and glare up at Jesse and Shelby.

“You know, I had a feeling that you were a spy but this is just fucking disgusting.” Kimberly growls as she glares at him. “How could you do this to Rachel? You told her she was your friend, she trusts you. And for you? What is it? Are you just trying to get in the good graces of your coach?”

Shelby looks down at her in shock, “Kimberly.”

“And you.” Kimberly seethes as she turns her attention the wide eyed woman. “Why the hell are you sniffing around my little sister anyway? Why the sudden interest?”

“Kimberly…”

“I’m glad to hear you know my name, Mom. Not that I care.” Kimberly snaps, and she falters ever so slightly when Jesse barks out a laugh. “What the fuck is so funny, St. James?”

Jesse is cruel, that much Kimberly knows. But she also knows he has a spot for her sister, and for a second she sees that softness in his gaze as he regards her. She also sees the pity. A ball of dread sinks low in her stomach as she looks between them, and she sees the sympathy on Shelby’s face as she tilts her head and observes Kimberly for a moment. As the staring continues, Kimberly feels the air around her tightening and she scratches weakly at her throat as the odd feeling of suffocating begins to bubble around her.

“They never told you.” Shelby whispers.

Kimberly scowls weakly, “Told me what?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Shelby sighs, and her expression melts into one that reminds her so much of her younger sister. “Kimberly, you shouldn’t be here. I’m not who you’re looking for.”

“The hell you aren’t.” Kimberly replies in a harsh tone. “Rachel found your tape, and she’s a mess. If it wasn’t for her girlfriend then I’m pretty sure our dads would’ve had her admitted. You got inside her head, you won. So, why her? Did you think she’d be easier to get to? Scared I’d see right through St. James and his act?”

“I wasn’t asked to get close you, you weren’t even brought up.” Jesse sighs, and he tilts his chin up as Kimberly blinks in confusion. “Shelby never wanted to get close to you, Kimberly.”

Kimberly swallows hard, “Am I not good enough for you, Shelby?”

“You’re...Kimberly, you’re not mine.” Shelby whispers.

“Neither is Rachel!”

“No, sweetie,” Shelby sighs. “You aren’t mine.”

Kimberly knows exactly what she means the first time she says it, but the second time is like a slap across the face. She can barely breathe, and the last of the air seems to vanish around her as she stumbles back. She isn’t Shelby’s. This isn’t her mother. The thought sends her spiraling and she turns to leave, and once she hears Shelby yelling how sorry she is, she allows the first tear of realization to fall.

“Kim? Can I please come in?”

Rachel sounds so small on the other side of the door and it reminds her of the night’s her little sister would have nightmares and come tapping at her door. As far back as she can remember, Kimberly has always taken care of Rachel; sometimes better than their fathers could. She knows her sister like then back of her hand, and she absolutely adores her. But right now? Right now she can’t even look at Rachel. For the first time, Kimberly is jealous of her and she doesn’t know how to process that.

“No. Go away.”

“Kimba.” Rachel whimpers. “Please?”

Kimberly clenches her jaw and closes her eyes as the memories of that stupid nickname flood her. She sees her little sister, all big brown eyes and thick curls chanting it as they play in the backyard. She hears it being loudly shouted by a nine-year-old Rachel at her first dance competition. The soft whispers of it play over and over as she remembers the fat tears on Rachel’s face when they both had come out to each other on a rainy Sunday afternoon. It’s too much.

“Fuck off, Rachel!”

This time, she hears her sister gasp and then she hears the shuffle of feet. After a few tense moments, Kimberly drops her face into her pillow and screams out her frustration and sadness.

“Get your ass out here, Kimberly.”

Kimberly rolls her eyes as she hears the angry voice belonging to Quinn. With a sigh, she flicks through the pages of her magazine and chooses to ignore the blonde pounding a hard fist against her bedroom door. She isn’t the least bit surprised Quinn is here, she figures Rachel ran to her precious girlfriend the second she heard something she didn’t like from Kimberly’s mouth; that is Rachel specialty after all, tattling on her older sister.

“What do you want, Fabray?” Kimberly demands.

“I want you to open this door so I can smack some sense into you.”

Kimberly snorts with a lopsided grin, “Cute.”

“I’m serious. Rachel is crying. When have you ever just let her cry? Something is going on with you, and I want to know what.” Quinn hisses. “So open this door and talk to me.”

“If my sister is crying, shouldn’t you be with her instead of bothering me?” Kimberly hums, and she struggles to keep from darting off the bed. “I’m busy. Go take care of her.”

Kimberly hears Quinn scuttle off and she has to keep herself glued to the bed as she hears Rachel’s sob. Her sister crying is one of the worst things in the world, especially if she is the cause of the tears. With a shake of her head, Kimberly zones off as she flickers through the magazine and waits; eventually the sobs of her sister fade away, and Kimberly blinks as her own cries replace Rachel’s.

“Santana, is that a fucking chainsaw?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is. Step aside.”

Kimberly goes still as she hears the motor of a chainsaw kick on. And then she hears Brittany’s voice, and the sound quickly dies away.

“But Q said…”

“Where did you even get that thing?” Rachel demands.

“I found it in your neighbor’s garage. The dumbass left his back door open.” Santana scoffs. “You said you wanted your sister out of her room so I was just trying to help.”

“By sawing down her door?” Quinn squeaks.

“Details, Fabray.” Santana grumbles. “Kimberly, get your ass out here!”

Kimberly flexes her jaw, “No. Go away.”

“Did she…? I know the bitch didn’t just tell me to go away.” Santana exclaims, and the chainsaw kicks on once more.

“Grab her!”

“She has a chainsaw!”

“So? Grab her!”

Kimberly sighs and drowns the struggle out with loud music as she goes back to her phone.

A soft tap interrupts her as she drifts off.

“What?” Kimberly groans.

“Kim? It’s Jason.”

Kimberly growls in annoyance, “Go. Away.”

“Everyone is worried and…”

“Jason, I will shave off your eyebrows.”

“Alright then. Take your time. See you at school on Monday.”

“Babe?”

Kimberly tenses, “Now this is just low.”

With a grumble of annoyance, Kimberly tosses her sheets off her body and stomps towards the door. The anger on her face slowly fades as she throws it open and sees Trini standing before her in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. With a lopsided grin, Trini tilts her head and Kimberly reaches out to fist the front of her hoodie before she drags her girlfriend inside the bedroom and slams it shut as soon as she sees Rachel’s hopeful face.

“Hi.” Kimberly breathes out as she curls her hands around Trini’s hips and rests their foreheads together. “What are you doing here?”

“Baby Berry called me.” Trini replies as she reaches up to tug a hand through Kimberly’s hair. “She told me you hadn’t left your room. That explains why you didn’t want to get donuts this morning.”

“I’m sorry. I…”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand. I do this too. Sometimes you just have to shut out the world, I’m not going to push you to talk.” Trini assures her. “I just need to know if I need to kick someone’s ass for hurting you…”

“All I need is you. Here. With me.” Kimberly murmurs as she runs her hands down to Trini’s thighs before she tugs her forward. “I feel like I can breathe if you’re here.”

Trini sighs softly as Kimberly easily sweeps her into her arms and she curls herself around her girlfriend with ease, “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

Kimberly hums as she turns to carry Trini to her bed and she lays her down with ease before she braces a forearm by her head and presses their lips together. With her girlfriend here, Kimberly feels like she can do this. She feels like she’ll be able to face her reality soon. As hands tug at her thin t-shirt, Kimberly allows everything else to melt away as she focuses on Trini; right now, this is what she wants. This is what she needs. And she’ll be damned if she let’s Shelby take this from her too.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kimberly shakes her head, “I’m not hers.”

“Oh, baby.” Trini sighs as she scratches at Kimberly’s back. “I’m so sorry, Kimberly. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Rachel…”

“She’ll understand when you explain.”

“It hurts, Trini.” Kimberly sniffles as tears begin to cloud her vision. “It hurts so fucking bad, and I don’t know what to do.”

“It isn’t me you need then, babe.” Trini whispers as she presses a kiss to Kimberly’s head and begins to untangle herself. “Stay here.”

Kimberly already knows her Trini is going, and she isn’t surprised when a small frame wraps itself around her minutes later. Finally, Kimberly breaks. She turns in Rachel’s arms and allows her sobs to soak her sister’s chest, and Rachel simply clings to her; the pain radiates through her and she wants so badly for it to go away.

“You may not be hers,” Rachel whispers into her ear as she squeezes Kimberly tightly. “But you’re mine.”

And, to Kimberly, that’s more than enough.

#glee #power rangers #trimberly #faberry #kimberly hart #rachel berry #santana lopez #trini gomez #social media au

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