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swordsandholly · 22 days

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Fancy

Ch 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn

Previous | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

You feel sick when you wake. Muscles weak and body shaky. It takes more effort than you would like to peel your eyes open. You haven’t sat under a UV lamp in a while and it’s starting to show. The cocoon of sheets feels so good you don’t want to get up, to peel yourself away from them.

You realize Johnny and Kyle are gone as you sit up, all alone in the center of the massive bed. The room feels darker without them, somehow. Emptier. You roll over to climb off the bed, interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling under you. You feel around the mattress only to find a thick envelope with ‘Fancy’ neatly written across the front. As you open it, your breath catches in your throat at the contents. It’s nearly double what they said they’d pay. More than you could have ever hoped for. It makes your hands shake to hold that much money all at once. Once the shock wears off, a folded up piece of paper catches your eye.

Hey lovie,

Sorry to take off without saying goodbye. Had some business to attend to. Figured we should let you sleep. Hope you won’t be too mad ;)

We left a little extra for spending the night. Nothing like cuddling up next to a soft, warm lady.

Let’s do it again soon.

Kyle + Johnny

The handwriting changes to a messy scrawl that you have to squint to make out.

P.S. You look bonnie in my shirt. Gonnae be thinking about that all day. Feel free to take it with you.

P.S.S. I want it back unwashed.

You can’t help but snicker to yourself. Damn dirty dog.

You have no reason to deny him, though. So you slip the t-shirt on over your dress as you get ready to leave. The dress feels far too constrictive for the early morning. This is why you don’t do nights - walking out looking like a mess in the itchy day old clothes. You give up looking for your panties which seem to have evaporated, not too keen on putting them back on anyway.

Before you can tip-toe your way out to the front door, you find yourself pausing. The kitchen light is on, illuminating a figure working over the stove. Curiosity gets the better of you and you circle around the counter to see John sorting ingredients in nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. Strong, nicely hairy chest on full display.

And they call you and slut.

“Good morning.” He flashes you a bright smile. Of course he noticed you. He probably smelled you before he even heard you leave the bedroom.

“Sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude.” You mumble awkwardly.

“No, no. I was hoping you’d stop f’me. My boys treat you alright?” He eyes your shirt.

Being asked that a second time throws you off. Why the hell do they care so much? “They did.”

“Good. Good.” He smiles warmly. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

You scoff. “You? No offense but I’d rather take my chances with the nearest dumpster.”

“Contrary to popular belief, some of us remember how to cook.”

You glance at the half-dozen cart of eggs and perfectly fresh vegetables neatly arranged across the counter. “And you just happened to have human food on hand?”

He pauses. “…I may have had some delivered.”

John turns back to the stove, muttering something under his breath about ‘too smart for her own damn good.’

You pad over beside him to look down at the food, staring at the spread. You point at some red thing you don’t recognize. “What is that?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “The tomato?”

“Tomatoes are purple.” You poke it. “And more squishy.”

You meet his eye and for a brief moment, you think you see pity. Something sad swirling in the blue of his irises. He schools his face back to neutral before you can be sure you saw anything at all.

“Well, hopefully you trust an old codger like me to make you a half-decent omelette.”

You snort, leaning back on the kitchen island. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

You both lapse into silence. He does seem to know what he’s doing - carefully chopping the vegetables and carefully folding the omelette in the pan. Maybe he had a human wife at some point or something. Most likely. That’s not uncommon, especially back in the 21st century. Practically a trend. You tilt your head as you watch him move, brow furrowed. He’s so weird.

What could you have said to them to make them treat you like this? You’re almost afraid to know - that block of time so buried in the recesses of your mind there’s no hope of ever recovering it. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried since that day, but you know we’ll enough that it never works. You don’t have a single guess as to what it could have been.

Maybe you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’re just weirdly tunnel visioned. Vamps do that often enough - hone in on a target of affection. For any reason from looking like a dead loved one or they just have an enticing scent. Except they’re not usually this… nice. Normally they’d just drain the object of their affection and be done with it. Not ask them to sleep over for the night and cook them breakfast in the morning.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a plate is set in front of you. It looks… perfect. At least you assume that’s what a good omelette looks like. Nicely golden. It looks alien. Food from another world - another time. You glance up at John as he watches you expectantly. It won’t hurt to entertain him, you suppose. Even if it does end up being shit. You cut a small bite, tentatively bringing it to you your lips. You brace for something awful.

Except it’s incredible. Perfectly cooked and seasoned. You can’t help but let out a content little hum before practically scarfing it down. You haven’t had food like this in… ever, actually. Neither this fresh or well made.

“So you like it?” John smiles.

You nod happily with a mouth full of food before remembering where you are. Steeling yourself and slowing down, returning to the more reserved persona. “It’s good.”

John huffs out a laugh, turning his back to you to clean up. “I’ll drive you home when you’re finished.”

You pause mid bite. “Oh, no, I can take the train-“

“Do you really want t’walk all the way to the depot in those heels?” John cocks an brow, blue eyes dragging from your face, over your body and down your legs. There’s a slow burning intensity in the movement that sends a shiver down your spine.

You stare at him for a moment, uncertain of what to do. The last thing you need is to owe a vampire for anything. They’ll take your debts to the grave. It happened with your neighbor once - you learned early on to be wary of any offer made by one of them. Never make a deal with one of the devils.

“You won’t be indebted for it.” John chuckles as if he can read your damn mind. Maybe he can.

You chew your lip. It’s at least an hour walk to the metro station from here. You don’t want him to see where you live, though. It will ruin the illusion. Images flash through your mind of the craggily walls of your apartment building. The syringes that line the sidewalk. There’s that massive blood stain on the front steps they still haven’t cleaned up after five years.

But then you meet his eyes. They’re so sincere. So bright. Whatever that tug is in your chest that keeps giving into them pulls again. It’s unraveling you, making you insane. Surely that’s it, you’re finally going insane.

“Okay.” It comes out weaker than you’d like.

John grins a though you gave him the greatest gift in history. It makes your face hot - leaves you shifting awkwardly. You’re not used to that much emotion carved into their marble features. This coven is too expressive. It’s putting you on edge, leaving you with your guard up. Against what, though? What’s the point? Shouldn’t you be happy and play into their more excitable nature?

It’s too unfamiliar. Too otherworldly to see human emotion on their god like features.

A cool finger hooks under your chin, lifting your face to meet John’s gaze. “You think too much.”

You scoff and tear your face away from his hand. Thinking keeps you alive. The girls that don’t think don’t survive past their teens. You have to be smart to stay alive here. To even have a hope of keeping up with creatures who contain centuries of knowledge and experience. Who are so far ahead in the race the best you can do is limp along in the dust.

A valet pulls the car around. John changed into jeans and half zip sweater. You would die before admitting to the small bit of disappointment at him donning a shirt. You expect the black SUV from the night before to pull up. Instead, you’re met with a basic sedan. It’s still nice - obviously new. The seats are a soft, well cared for leather.

“So is this what you do? Invite prostitutes over for omlettes and tea and then drive them home?” You blurt as John starts the car. That itch to dissect their thought processes continues to plague the back of your mind.

“Tea?” He repeats, a brow raised.

“Simon made me tea last night.”

John laughs. “Kyle really did fuck your throat raw, then?”

You whirl on him, eyes wide.

“Don’t act so surprised. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Said you took it beautifully.” John sighs. “Bit jealous I didn’t get to watch the show. A good cigar and whiskey in hand? The perfect night, I think. Might have to recreate it…”

That last bit sounds more for him than for you.

You shouldn’t blush. You’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason to blush anymore. You have no right to be flustered over something as simple as sex. It’s the way he says it, you think. The way desire drips from every syllable as though he’s never said anything more true in his immortal life.

You just hide behind a huff and look out the window. “You’re all very weird, you know that?”

“Are we, now?” John rests his elbow on the door and his head on his hand. He weaves through the chaotic city roads expertly.

“You’re too…” You wrinkle your nose, pausing. The word gets lost on your tongue.

“Human?”

“If you say so.”

John chuckles. “You’re just as weird, you know that?”

“I am not weird!” You snap indignantly.

“If you say so.”

You have to do a double take when he pulls up to your apartment. Is it really that fast by car? What was that, ten minutes? The train is a nearly twenty minute ride with two fifteen minute walks. The walk is nearly three hours - two if you take the back way.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, voice dropping to a low drawl. You shake your head to clear it, pulling your respirator out of your coat.

“Don’t you need a-“ You stop when you meet John’s deadpan expression. “Oh, right.”

“Appreciate the concern, love.” He chuckles. It’s a surprisingly warm sound.

You reach for the door, respirator in hand and at the ready. You pause when John lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. Turning back, your eyes meeting his. There’s that storm again. The one he looked at you with before. Something roiling underneath the surface.

“Fancy?”

“Yes?”

“Before you go.” John leans forward. “C’mere.”

You assume he wants a kiss. It wouldn’t surprise you - a little thank you for the ride. Frankly, you should have thought of it first. Instead, he ducks his head to the side at the last moment. His hand tangles gently but firmly in your hair to pull your head to the side, leaving your neck craned and exposed. You freeze. Fear takes over - your heart rate immediately spiking. Your hands fist his coat, pushing as hard as you can against the unmoving mountain that is his body.

“John-“ Your voice cracks. “Please don’t-“

“Need t’ make sure you’re safe…” He mumbles.

A fang catches your skin. You freeze.

It drags across your neck, down the arch of your artery. You suck in a hear breath, the skin not quite breaking under the touch. Before you can speak or begin pushing again or even try to get out of the car, he bites down. A yelp escapes you as his teeth slowly sink in - only through the top most layer of skin. Not enough to puncture the artery or even for his other teeth to bite into your skin.

Your whole body shakes. “What’re you-“

John shushes you as he pulls away, eyes locked on the cut he made on your neck. You can feel the wet blood beginning to drip down your neck. His hand stays in your hair, holding you in place. The blue of his irises seems somehow brighter, pupils so narrowed they don’t look to be more than pinpricks. After a few beats he seems satisfied, letting your hair go and sitting back in his seat.

“Just a precaution, love.”The vampire looks you over, eyes suddenly painfully soft again. “Take care of yourself.”

Your eyes flick between his. A cold, rushing fear pumps through your veins. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you finally come to your senses, taking the chance to dash out of the car and toward your apartment. Fight or flight pushing away any ability to ask what the fuck that was. By the time you turn around to check behind you, John is far down the street.

You rush to your bathroom mirror, tossing your respirator to the ground as soon as you’re in your front door. It’s not deep. He didn’t even lick up after himself - a thin trail of blood pooling around your clavicle before continuing down. It wasn’t about drinking. You hiss as your fingers lightly test the tender skin.

What the fuck?

He’s a vampire. At the end of the day that’s all he is. No facial expressions or ability to cook will undo that he’s a different creature entirely. Was that what this is about? Reminding you what they are? The power they have? You wouldn’t put it past one of them, the sick fucks. What kind of fool were you to think they’re at all different.

After a shower and finally changing into some pajamas (minus a certain vampire’s tshirt that he will not be getting back) you go to grab your lamp. It doesn’t take long to set up the UV light, just dragging it out of storage and setting up the shade above it so that the rays concentrate downward onto your skin. You slowly sink to the ground. Exhaustion clings to your bones. They feel brittle and heavy simultaneously.

You sigh, curling up under the warm light like a cat. You have to be smart about how long you stay under it - the damn thing runs up the electricity bill like nothing else. Plus, too long under it can cause serious skin damage. As much as you’d rather go without, you’ve seen what happens to those that do.

You half heartedly re-count out the envelope of money, still feeling overwhelmed at the sheer amount of it. At the whole situation at hand. You realize quickly enough that despite having the money to do almost anything you don’t actually… know what to do. Despite the plan being to save up and get out of the slums you never really planned for what to do once you were out of the slums.

The realization that you never truly believed you could do it, even unconsciously, is a little heartbreaking.

Do you keep working at the club? Hope that these clients like you enough to keep up with your new lifestyle? Pray that they enjoy fucking you for long enough to save up? Do you even want to see them after what John just did? Do you look for another job? There isn’t much you can get when the whole of your resume is stamped with WHORE in bright red letters.

With a low groan you slump back on the floor and throw your arm over your eyes. Everything is so fucked. You’re lost in it and it’s all fucked.

Normally, you would avoid information about the people that come in and out of your club. They’re looking for discretion, after all. A place to hide away from the dealings of life. A fantasy. If you were smart, you’d stick with that habit. Especially when it comes to the ones that literally compel you to forget their business.

John just lost the right to any discretion after that stunt in the car.

You open up your shitty laptop that requires five hail mary’s to start. It greets you with the top headlines of the day, all just as enjoyable as you’d expect.

UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN FOUR MORE JANE DOES

NEW DRUG CYTH TAKING THE UNDERGROUND MARKETS BY STORM

CORPSE FOUND WITH BLOOD LEAKING FROM PORES

You close them out, for your own sanity, and type John’s name into the search bar. A few things come up - some company called One-Four-One with the most nothing description about what kind of company they are. They “develop products and services” - aka they’re a shell for shady bullshit. They’re listed as the benefactor for some lower city charities and given responsibility for several mergers and buy-outs in the upper city. All the things you’d expect from a corporation.

It’s too clean, though. You’ve been living in the underbelly long enough to know what a front looks like. Not that you’re surprised. Every vampire corporation is a cover for a million other little inner workings you will never be privy to.

The only pictures of John are a few from press reports. His imposing figure standing behind some ugly podium with a logo hastily plastered across the front. He has a commanding air about him behind all those microphones - like a preacher or a politician. Fitting.

Johnny and Kyle have a far more risqué library. Images with models and other beautiful women. The kinds of things you’d expect from young, playboy vampires stretching over the past century at least, according to the archive dates. The boys aren’t the focus of the images - it’s all paparazzi for the women - but they’re in them nonetheless. How the hell did Johnny manage to squeeze into a pair of leather pants like that?

Simon doesn’t even seem to exist. A total ghost. No matter how deep you go you can’t find a trace of him. You manage to get all the way back to the 1990s in the archive and still come up with jack shit.

You’re left with more questions than answers and a distinct understanding that you shouldn’t ask any of them. You knew that already, though, and you have no plans to let John Price close enough to speak to you anytime soon.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep up until you wake, alarm blaring in your ear that it’s time to get up and go to work. It never ends. You still feel so fucking tired, body heavy and eyes stinging. A haze settles over your mind as you fall into your constant routine. Makeup, hair, dress, respirator on, walk, train, respirator off, walk.

Your locker in the back room fights you, forcing you to practically break it open. Just another thing to leave you feeling angry and useless.

“I heard they got Red.” The girl beside you whispers. She’s mousy, new. A gossiper. She even tried to talk to you, at least before she found out that you apparently steal clients.

The girl she’s speaking to side eyes her. “What do you mean got ‘er?”

“With that new drug - Cyth or whatever.”

“Cyth isn’t real. It’s just people making up shit to cover up what the vamps are doing. As if we don’t already know.”

“But what about-“ You don’t hear the rest of what she says, her voice drowning out as you leave the back room.

Time seems to crawl by at the club without the men. You hate it. Not just the slowness of the day but the fact that they’ve had that effect on you. That these creatures you barley know have invaded your thoughts. Wormed themselves into the nooks and crannies of your psyche. Marked you - however temporarily that may be.

The patrons avoid your eyes. You serve their drinks, and where they would normally make a salacious remark or grab onto you they just offer a huffy thanks and ignore you. The tips are garbage, even the other serving girls notice and begin to basically steal your tables. It has to be the bite.

Why, though? Plenty of serving girls have fresh bite marks and they aren’t getting reactions like that. You can count four on the main floor right now.

At least once the day is over, it’s over. You can go home and hide away. Be angry in peace. Maybe make a plan for what to do. Maybe you can leave the city you and your friends talked about as teens. Except they’re all dead now and you’re pretty sure there isn’t anything outside of the dome anymore. At least not anything you could get to.

The other girls don’t walk with you to the metro anymore. The streets are never truly empty in the main city. There’s no real day or night. It’s only the places humans inhabit that become abandoned during the “night.” As you exit the lower city station, the streets empty out. It’s just you, footsteps echoing off buildings. The smog in the air only makes it darker - even harder to navigate.

Until a second pair of footsteps appears, fast and growing louder by the second. Before you can even begin to run or check behind you a force slams into you, sending you tumbling down onto harsh concrete and into an alley.

You’re cornered. There’s nowhere to go. Before you can grapple for your garlic spray the vampire has your wrists in his hand, pulling you up to dangle in front of him. The backs of your hands and arms scrape against the rough brick of the building he’s pinned you too. It hurts, cutting deep into your skin under the pressure of his strength.

The thing hisses, ripping off the neck guard attached to your respirator. The whole thing goes clattering to the ground. You choke on the poison air, lungs immediately rejecting it.

You tip your eyes to the obstructed sky. Of course it would end this way. It’s the end for you all, isn’t it? Just another body in an alley. Another free apartment for people to fight over. Another headline for people to frown at on the train. You wonder if they would use your name or just leave you as another Jane Doe.

What do the real stars look like, anyway?

He takes a long inhale and freezes in place. You can barely make out wide, frenzied eyes. A hood blocks any of his other features. His breath hastens, chest heaving against yours. What the hell is he waiting for?

Suddenly he reels backward, hissing and spitting. Muttering words you don’t understand. It drops you so suddenly that you collapse to the ground. Unable to gain any footing, still coughing and choking.

“What-“ You’re not even sure why you want to ask it a question. Before you can at all the thing runs away down the alley. Your hand travels up to your neck.

The bite.

A coughing fit sends you doubling over and you blearing grope around the ground for your respirator. At least it didn’t get smashed, you sigh in relief - clipping it back around your face and neck.

Your hands shake and you turn, staring up at that massive skyscraper hanging above the city. It’s taunting you. You feel like you can almost see John staring down at you, toying with you. An anger flares in your body so hot you almost feel as thought you’ve caught fire. He wants to fuck with you? To make you feel weak? To try to lay some sort of claim?

Fine. You can play ball.

A/N: John “you don’t need to know what’s going on, love, just do what I say” Price and Miss “don’t fuck with my independence” Fancy

I don’t love this chapter but I gotta get plot moving and grooving.

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cod-dump · 1 year

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Haunted

SoapGhost fic

___

Soap and Ghost never become intimate while in 141. Both didn’t want to cross the line. And a part of them believed the other didn’t feel the same way. Years go by with them remaining close friends. But something happens and Ghost disappears one day. Just gone within a night.

It sent Soap in a panic so he went to Price. The man assured him that Ghost was alive, and that’s all he would tell him. Price couldn’t tell Soap anything but Soap knew he was discharged. Just like that, his best friend and the man he loved the most is gone.

Soap continued on, raising rank to lieutenant. Ghost slowly becomes nothing more than a distant memory. A memory that hurts him every time it rears itself. Soap becomes stone cold, slowly losing himself as he fights. Finally, Price tells him it’s time. He had grown too old to keep fighting and no one else would take his place. This was the end of 141.

Soap planned on continuing to fight, but Price urged him to go home. So Soap goes home. To his aging parents, his married sisters and their grown children. They welcomed him home eagerly, but Soap felt so out of place. He forced himself to smile for their sake. His mother made his bed in his old room. The room was just as he remembered, left untouched by the years he was gone.

He tried to merge back into civilian life, but he just couldn’t. He was always standing guard, waiting for something to happen.

One evening, after dinner, Soap was doing the dishes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped and turned around. He relaxed when he saw his father, hands up to show he meant no harm.

“At ease, soldier.”

“Sorry, Pa…”

His father looks him in the eye before speaking, “Service hasn’t been kind to you.”

Soap resumes the dishes, “Hasn’t been kind to anyone.”

“Have you kept in touch with your old team?”

Ghost immediately comes to mind, Soap’s heart aching. He stops scrubbing the already clean plate, swallowing.

“Gaz- Kyle, is back home in London. Old man Price is in Liverpool. Kyle visits Price often.”

His father nods, “Could invite them over. Have a get together.”

Soap loved that idea. To seem them again, to see that they were doing well instead of just hearing about it. Ghost flickers across his mind again and Soap sighs.

“Would be nice to see them.”

“Then let’s do it. Call up your old team. They can stay a week or so.”

“Would Ma be okay with that?”

“Of course! You know your mother, she never meets a stranger.”

Soap stares out the kitchen window at the black sky. Involuntarily Ghost comes back. Soap thinks about him meeting his family, his mother taking his hand and asking if he had eaten yet. His father wrapping an arm around his shoulder, already calling him ‘son’. His sisters teasing him as he gets roped into watching the youngest of the MacTavish family. Soap sighs, looking to his father.

“I’ll call them up.”

“Good, lad.”

That night Soap laid awake at night, Ghost plaguing more than he had in years. Every thought turned back to him. All Soap could think was that he missed him so much, that he hated that Ghost left before Soap could tell him how he felt. He desperately wanted to go back, to that very night that Ghost disappeared on. Take his hands before they separated to go to bed, tell him how much he loved him.

But that won’t happen.

Soap rolls over in bed, blinking away the tears as he curls up. He forced his thoughts onto Gaz and Price, on the joy he will feel from seeing them again. Maybe he could talk about Ghost with them… he knows they don’t miss him like he does. That they weren’t plagued by him every day, every night, wishing that he could see him again.

Soap closes his eyes, hugging his pillow as sleep slowly comes to him like a skittish animal, the slightest sound or movement threatening to chase it off. Darkness overcame him after what felt like hours. Probably was hours.

Soap found himself awake in his bed suddenly. He blinked before sitting up. Was this a dream? He honestly couldn’t tell. Soap slipped out of bed and into the hall, walking carefully past his parent’s bedroom. He makes his way downstairs and into the living room, surprised to find someone sitting on the loveseat. He should be alarmed but something told him there was nothing to fear from the stranger.

He creeps closer, “Hello? Who are you?”

The man turns to him and Soap found himself frozen at Ghost’s face. It was exactly how he remembered him all those years ago. Not a bit of age on him. Soap steps forward, tears welling up.

“Simon!”

Ghost smiles sadly at him, “Good to see you, Johnny.”

Soap tried to get closer but it felt like he wasn’t getting any closer no matter how much he ran. Ghost stands and turns to him, that sad smile never leaving him.

“I’m sorry, John… I can’t stay.”

“No, please don’t go!”

Ghost seems to fizzle away, “Goodbye, Johnny.”

“Simon! SIMON!”

Soap’s eyes snap open. After a minute the tears start to pour, Soap burying his face into his pillow to muffle his sobs. He rolls onto his back, blindly reaching for his phone. When he finds it, he dials a number and holds the phone to his ear with a shaking hand. After a minute someone picks up.

“Johnny?”

“What happened to him?”

Price’s groggy voice seems to clear quickly, “John… I can’t—“

“It’s been twenty years, Price… Please… What happened to Simon?”

Price was quiet before he speaks, “He had a… episode. The higher ups decided they could no longer ignore that he was in the field. No longer pretend that it was okay. So he was discharged.”

Soap swallows, “He… why leave in the middle of the night? Why didn’t he say goodbye?”

There was a weight in Price’s voice. It was so heavy and tired, “That night is when he had the episode. They didn’t allow him to come back.”

Soap blinks away the tears, “He couldn’t say goodbye…”

“No, son. They believed that it would do more damage than good.”

“Fucking— Do you know where he went?”

“Son, that’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry but… Simon is gone. He’s been gone for twenty years.”

Soap grips his phone, “You don’t know.”

“John—“

“You don’t know what happened to him. Do you?”

Silence. It dragged on for a good bit before Price finally breathed out, “No. I don’t.”

Soap chokes, “Of course… he’s the Ghost.”

“If he wanted you- any of us- to know what happened to him, we would know already.”

Soap rolls over, feeling the dampness on his pillow from his tears, “Yea… you’re right.”

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the closure you seek, John.”

“I need to give myself closure, not get it from someone.“

“We can’t always give ourselves what we need. It’s okay to reach out when you need help.”

Soap laughs, “Always know what to say.”

“I read too many fortune cookies.”

The night dragged on. Hours passed before Price finally decided to go back to bed, telling Soap good night before hanging up. After the line clicked, Soap slowly let his phone slip from his hand. Staring at the window. Somewhere out there was Ghost. And Soap wondered if that somewhere was in his future to visit.

#john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #soapghost #ghostsoap #fic #fanfic #haunted

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imrowanartist · 7 days

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@pricegazweek Day 7 (forgot to post this, oops) - ‘That morning I heard water being poured into a teapot. The sound was an ordinary, daily, cluffy sound. But all at once, I knew you loved me. An unheard-of thing, love audible in water falling.’

Tags: sick fic, fluff

“I see now why you never invited me here,” a voice says dryly as John blinks awake, head heavy and body sore.

It takes him a moment to register his surroundings and who the voice belongs to; like coming up from the depths and breaching the surface after a deep dive. Then it comes back to him.

They’re in Hereford, at John’s old as shit flat. ‘They’ being him and Gaz, apparently.

They came here because Kyle insisted on it, after John came down with a cold on the way back from their latest stint abroad. He’d planned on just sitting it out at base, but of course upon arrival he’d been informed that because of maintenance the barracks were partially unavailable. Including his room. So Kyle had offered to drive him home instead, which he had reluctantly agreed to. A testament to how shit he actually felt.

What he had not expected, was for Kyle to stay.

John wants to quip something back at Kyle, defend himself and his flat, but what comes out is an unintelligible grumble due to his parched throat. Kyle, standing in the door opening, tuts at him. He looks much too chipper for what time it is, and John is pretty sure that the shirt he’s wearing is not his own. It sends a shiver of excitement through him. And, if he dares to admit it, a wave of possessiveness too, being able to call Kyle his now.

“You still broken?” Kyle asks and John huffs at him before forcing himself to sit up with a grunt, his duvet pooling around his waist. He feels a brief flush of embarrassment at wearing nothing more than yesterday’s boxers, but then he remembers they’ve seen each other in even less clothing by now.

“Fit as a fiddle,” he grumbles, annoyed at how hoarse he sounds.

Kyle simply chuckles at him. “Let me make you some tea. If I can manage to find any clean cups in this house.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. John sits in bed for another minute, just blinking through the fog that seems to have permanently settled over his mind, then forces himself to move, limb for limb. He should at least put on some clean underwear and a shirt.

Briefly he wonders if Kyle slept on the couch, but the indent on the pillow next to him tells him enough. Good. He wants Kyle to feel at home. Like he belongs here.

When he shuffles into the kitchen Kyle raises a dark eyebrow at him.

“Sit down before you fall down,” he orders and John obediently sits down at the kitchen table that has seen better days. He has to resist the urge to lay his heavy head down on the surface, but seeing Kyle putter around his kitchen is giving him all the motivation he needs not to. The fact that Kyle is also wearing his clothes only adds to the heat pooling in his gut.

Mesmerized, he follows Kyle’s movements as he prepares the tea. The way he blows some dust off two mugs before rinsing them. The way he scoffs softly to himself when he only finds bagged tea (that has miraculously not expired yet). It’s all so mundane and domestic. Such a sharp contrast to their job and what it forces them to be sometimes.

And it’s all for him.

John didn’t ask Kyle to stay. Didn’t ask him to make tea and look after him. But as Kyle pours the hot water into the mugs, the love in it is almost audible to John. As Kyle carries the mugs over to the table and takes a seat across from him, he can’t help how his skin flushes as he’s unable to pull his eyes away from how lovely Kyle looks in the early morning light.

No one has ever shown him love like this. So easy. Without asking for anything in return. It makes John’s throat close up as he forces out a thank you and takes the cup from Kyle.

“You sound even worse than usual,” Kyle comments, unaware of how John’s heart is racing in his chest.

Why are you here? I’m just a broken man.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Kyle snorts and John blinks at him. He hadn’t realised he’d said the words aloud. “I’m here because I choose to be. Because I want to be. And you know, I do kind of like you.”

Normally, John would rise to the banter, but not today. Today his brain is mush and his limbs feel like lead and his wit has completely abandoned him.

“You should be home with your family,” he says, because he knows Kyle is close with his parents and they must miss him terribly. John would, if someone like Gaz would disappear from his life for months on end. His heart aches at the thought alone.

Kyle hums thoughtfully. “They can last a few more days without me. Are you always this morose when you’re sick?”

“Hmmm,” John grumbles and it’s neither a confirmation nor a denial.

Kyle pats John’s hand. “Something tells me that’s a yes. Now drink your tea.”

He watches like a hawk to make sure John finishes it all, while casually sipping at his own. Part of John wants to object against the attention, wants to scream that he’s independent, that he doesn’t need to be treated like a sick child. But part of him is relieved that he can finally let go. That someone is willing to look after him for a change.

When he has finished his tea, Kyle gets up and goes back into John’s bedroom. He comes back out with his arms full of pillows and a blanket.

“I think a sofa day is in order,” he says, arranging the pillows in a way that John can only describe as a nest. He huffs at the idea of it, but Kyle seems adamant to make him comfortable.

Is this real? Is he really allowed to have this? He feels like he’s in a daze, a fever dream. But the way Kyle looks at him so expectantly must be reality, his brown eyes soft and inviting.

Slowly John drags himself to his feet.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, barely able to resist the want that seems to take over his whole being.

“Mhm, I understand.”

“Oh, really?”

Kyle gives a cheeky grin. “Who wouldn’t. But better not, unless you want to take care of me next.”

“It would be a fair trade.”

“Stop thinking like that,” Kyle softly admonishes him, “this isn’t an equivalent exchange. Just accept that I want to do this without you giving me something in return.”

“Alright,” John whispers, letting Kyle guide him to the sofa.

It’s an old thing, made of leather that’s almost disintegrating at the seams. Without the extra layer of blankets Kyle has put there it’s not even comfortable anymore. Who needs a decent couch when you barely spend time using it anyway? But clearly Kyle is set on changing that.

He settles John on the sofa, making sure he has more tea and tissues within reach, then sits down on the floor, resting his back against the side. The back of his head is warm against John’s thigh and with the soft sound of some National Geographic documentary playing on the telly, John can feel his eyes become heavy.

He wonders if Kyle will still be there if he closes them. He still can’t entirely believe this is not a dream, having him here in his flat. Someone with his amount of red in his ledger should not be allowed to have something like this, right? He doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m not leaving,” Kyle whispers, “just go to sleep, I’ll be here.”

“Mhm,” John mumbles, finally believing him. He gives in to the pull of sleep and closes his eyes, hoping that some more rest will have him waking up feeling better.

He has a kiss to cash in on after all.

#kyle gaz garrick #captain price #pricegazweek #pricegaz #call of duty #modern warfare #ro writes

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writingforcuteppl · 1 year

Text

Call It What You Want

PAIRING: Kyle Broflovski x Reader

SUMMARY: Kyle was the person that made your life better. Even after three years with no contact, you still remember him dearly. Will it be the same for him?

GENRE: Fluff.

WARNINGS: Swearing

WORD COUNT: 2k words

PART: 2 (series masterlist)

“You know, you should contact him,” Stan said from your kitchen. After that night when he arrived drunk at your house two weeks ago, his presence was something recurring in your home, visiting you daily. His question surprises you.

“Who are you talking about?” As you started to recall the conversation you two had before he went up to get something to eat, you didn’t know where that question came from, nor you knew what it meant.

“I’m talking about Kyle. I’m pretty sure he will be delighted if you at least send him a message” he came out of the kitchen to sit on your couch next to you.

“I don’t know, Stan. I’m going, to be honest with you, I like the idea of contacting him again, but what if he doesn’t like the person I’ve become.” Stan could see your scared demeanor.

“You shouldn’t be scared. He liked you back then, and he will like you now. And if I’m honest with you, I really, really like you now. I mean, not that I didn’t do it back then, it’s just now that we are older, I can appreciate you in all the ways possible, and you are just an amazing person to hang around with” You felt your cheeks burn at his comment. You knew he wanted to be more than a friend to you, but you weren’t prepared for it until you were sure his intentions were pure and truthful. Still, he took every opportunity to show you how much you meant to him. And the last two weeks consisted of him trying to show you how sorry he was for everything that took place six years ago, and you knew you were starting to fall for him quicker than you would like.

“Even if I wanted to do it, I don’t have his number, and I could easily send him a DM, but we both know he rarely uses social media.”

“Luckily for you, I have his number, so call him,” he wrote his number on a little piece of paper that was lying on your coffee table, and he gave it to you. You looked at him suspiciously.

“So? Do it.”

“What? Like now?” You were startled. Was he being serious right now? Did he really want you to call him?

“Yeah,” you looked at Stan as if he lost his mind. But he was looking at you expectantly. You took your phone and started dialing the number on the paper. One, two, three rings were heard through your phone, and then you listened to his voice.

“Hello?” You felt your heart in your throat, making it harder for you to speak.

“Mmm, hi Kyle, it’s me -“

“Y/n,” you smiled when he said your name. “How have you been? I heard you and Stan have been hanging out” You were surprised he knew that. You looked at Stan, and he just chuckled.

“Yes, we have.”

“So why are you calling me?”

“Well, I was wondering if one day, you know, you would want to hang out? Maybe we could catch up on each other’s lives, or if you want, maybe we could do something the three of us, you, Stan, and me” You felt your throat starting to close, so you drank some water, realizing you were more nervous than you should be.

“I would love to. How about you and me? At the park?” you couldn’t help but smile. You looked at Stan, and surprisingly he was smiling too.

“Then it’s set. Message me when you are free so we can do it” You heard two chuckles and then realized the words you had just said.

“I mean, well-“ you sighed.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I understood.” Hearing the old nickname he gave you made your stomach flip. “I’ll message you. Bye”

“Bye,” you hang up. You stayed there for some seconds, trying to process everything, and then, you finally exploded. You went and hugged Stan, taking him by surprise. You couldn’t be happier.

Kyle was waiting for you on a park bench. The two of you decided it was better to talk about everything that was going on in each other’s lives before starting to hang out and continue with your friendship. The closer you got to him, the more nervous you were beginning to become. Kyle was not only your friend back in the day, but he also was your first love, as you were his, so you wanted this day to go perfectly. Every important moment you spent with him was playing on your head, and you must have stayed standing for some time because you felt someone touch your arm.

“Hi, sweetheart, you really shouldn’t just stay standing in the middle of a place alone. Some people’s intentions aren’t that good, you know? Such a pretty girl like you should be precautious.”

“Pretty?

“The prettiest I’ve ever seen” Your heart was beating way too hard. You were pretty sure you were going to have a heart attack at any moment.

“How about an ice cream, and then we can talk, mhm?” Kyle grabbed your hand and walked you to the ice cream stand that was not so far from where the two of you were.

Trying so hard to calm your nerves, you reminded yourself you were there so the two of you could become friends again. And for a strange reason, you remembered Stan. You couldn’t be excited about something happening between Kyle and you, and you knew damn well Stan liked you, and you liked him too, even if you were just hiding it at this point.

After Kyle bought the two of you ice cream, you started to talk about how your lives have been the last three years you weren’t in contact with. Of course, you couldn’t talk about everything, but just the highlights, and the more time you two talked, the more you realized Kyle was the same old Kyle you learned to appreciate and love.

Sure, his personality didn’t change that much, but physically… you couldn’t help but start comparing him to the last time you saw him, he was taller, at least taller than you, and his face was more defined. He was always handsome, but something about him appeared more mature. The most noticeable change was his hair. You knew he always liked it short, but now it was longer. And to be honest, that made him even more handsome, if that was possible.

“So, Stan told me the two of you are friends now. And not only that, but he told me he apologized for whatever stupid thing he did.”

“Yeah, actually, he was the reason I called you. But if I’m honest, I’m more surprised that the two of you were still talking. From what I remember, you hated his guts after everything that went down.”

“I did, but when I entered college, I found out he was studying the same thing as me, and I kinda felt relieved to see a familiar face. So we talked things out, and we became friends again.”

“That’s amazing, Kyle!” You were pleased to hear that. He, Stan, and Kenny were the best of friends during elementary school, so when they started to fall apart in middle school, you were really bummed out by it, but you never really asked Kenny or Kyle about it, too scared to know the truth.

“Talking about that, I never got to thank you, Kyle. I will always be grateful for everything you did for me. And how you stayed by my side when I needed someone the most.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I will always be by your side whenever you need me. Even if the years go by and we’re apart, you can always count on me” You smiled at his words. He always managed to make you feel better, and he always managed to make your heart flutter. And now, it wasn’t an exception.

“Can I ask you something, Kyle?”

“Sure.”

“Stan told me you, him, and Kenny made a pact some years ago,” you noticed how Kyle reacted when he heard Kenny’s name, his expression becoming dark. You decided to continue with his lack of response, “About me.” He turned to look at you.

“Oh, so he told you about that, huh?” He smirked, remembering said pact.

“So that’s why we never really were something.”

“I had been in love with you since I was 9. You knew that. I never really understood it before, I thought it was something that was going to pass eventually, but I just couldn’t get you out of my mind. I found out Stan and the other one was in love with you too, so saying you were my friend helped to suppress all those feelings about you. The years passed, and the four of us fell apart. You got closer to Kenny, and that destroyed me. That is why for a year, I changed schools, plus other personal things. I knew I didn’t have any right to be mad, we weren’t anything, so I thought that maybe if I was far from you, my love for you would eventually disappear. I came back for our last middle school year, I thought I was over you, but the first moment I entered the classroom and saw you, all those feelings reappeared. You looked different, prettier, if that was even possible. I fell in love with you all over again. You knew my relationship with any of the guys in our classroom was horrible but tried to make me smile and make me feel better by telling me all of them were losers and mean and how they would be the ones regretting losing my friendship. But still, Kenny had your full attention. Then the unexpected happened. Kenny blew it off, and I was so mad at him, but I was angrier at myself. I let him hurt you when I promised myself I would protect you.” You saw his hands closed in a fist, his knuckles getting white at the memory of you being hurt. You took one of his hands and intertwined your hands together. He smiled at you.

“After that, I promised myself I would do anything to make you feel better and to help you forget about Kenny.”

“You did help me, Kyle. You made it bearable. And you are the only reason I can recall those days and smile at them. Only you. Not Kenny or those girls who used to fake our friendship. You”

“You’re being completely honest?”

“Have I ever lied to you, Kyle Broflovski?” He laughed.

“Never.” The two of you stayed there. Looking into each other’s eyes. He continued.

“The last week of school, you just stopped going to school, and I decided I wanted to know the truth about his actions. Your friend, I don’t remember her name, told me everything. I wanted to tell you, but you deleted all social media during the summer. I thought I would never be able to see you again, and then one day in high school, I saw you walking down the hall. I thought I was hallucinating. The probability of us being in the same high school was really low, but it was you.” You remembered you were euphoric to see him again. “And the rest, well, you already know.”

The two of you stayed in silence. Kyle was, is, and will be one of the most important people in your life, no matter how long you go without seeing or being close to him. After all this time, he still manages to make you feel alive. Only one question was in your mind. Was it even possible to still have feelings for someone after a long time? Now that you were adults and not just some immature, hormonal kids, you were curious about how it would feel to be with him. You were about to say something, but he spoke first.

“Can I say something? I don’t know if I’m 100% over you. You kinda always stayed in my heart. After all, you will always be my first love.”

“Can I say something, Kyle? I don’t know either.”

n a v i g a t i o n

#south park fluff #kyle fluff #kyle broflovski fluff #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #south park kyle #south park imagines #south park x reader

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meritatem · 9 months

Text

Look, Selina is smart. Brilliant. An artist in her field, capable even of outsmarting Batman when the opportunity arises. She has enough skill and knowledge to maneuver the day-to-day in this cursed city, to not only survive but to thrive.

She knows all the rules of this game, she's alive because she knows how to play it well. So why, oh, why is she letting this unknown kid into her apartment without stopping to think about how much of a bad idea this is? She's blaming Jason Todd for this; it's true that her life was a bit in disarray before her encounter with Jason, but she's choosing to put more fault into him because he had to mess with her while wearing a Batman suit, so the personal offense feels warranted. Besides there's not much she can do when the kid actually knows where she's staying at the moment, only worsen by the fact that he calls her by her name - or well, last name - as soon as they get inside. It's not like she had doubts about the kid being adjacent to Batman in some way, not with all the kevlar and the expert roof surfing, but she wasn't expecting him to actually know things. Maybe this is a sign that she needs to step away for a little while, you know? To rest, heal and all that jazz.

Damian, of course, doesn't have time to wait for Selina to sort her internal conflicts, so he just takes the throw pillows from her couch and makes a little nest for the kittens on the floor, depositing them carefully in it and putting the cape back almost in one fluid motion, he then turned around and without waiting for Selina, went directly to the kitchen, prompting her to finally react.

“Where do you keep the dishes?” He asked even though he was already opening the cupboards. “And what kind of food do you have? They look old enough for something else besides milk.”

“Hold on,” and acting like this wasn't not unusual at all, she took off her goggles off and left them in the counter, tapping with her hand in passing one of the cupboards. “The bowls are there.”

Selina didn't have a cat of her own but she had the habit of feeding the stray cats that sometimes visited her balcony, so she had more than enough cat canned food, even if said food was more suitable for adult cats but going to the pet store wasn't an option at the moment, so for now it'll have to suffice. As soon as she poured the food into a bowl, Damian seized it, hurrying back to the cats while she took off her cowl, leaving it in the same place as her goggles before running her fingers through her hair, shaking it. For a moment she considered that maybe a glass of rum was in order, I mean, it was past two in the morning and she had an unnamed vigilante child sitting cross-legged in her living room, happily helping some kittens to eat from a feeding bowl that was a bit big for them... that surely entered in the territory of “I need alcohol for this”, but that also seemed exactly like not the thing to do with a kid present, especially when said kid apparently knew all her secrets.

“So,” she started, like she was continuing with a previous conversation. “What's your name?”

“No One.” He answered like he did that first time when he met Colin again. “That's what I go by.”

“Really? Sounds a little uninspiring.”

“I won't take criticism from someone calling herself Catwoman.”

“I hope you have this opinion for Batman too.”

“Batman is a simple and evocative name, easy for the vermin to remember and cower to. It's not the same.”

“You're biased because he's your boss.”

“He's not my boss, I answer to no-one but myself.” Which was a lie, because he did ask for Pennyworth's authorization for some things, but Kyle didn't need to know that.

In the course of the conversation, Selina started to move in the kitchen after finally deciding that tea would be best, maybe with some luck it'll really help her relax; seeing the situation she was in, seemed doubtful but it was worth a try.

“Do you want some tea?” She asked out of politeness, even if there was nothing polite about this.

“I'd accept hot chocolate, if you have it.”

“Sorry, dear, not at this time. How about milk with honey?”

“No, thank you.” He said, turning his nose with disdain.

Selina was sure this was the first time she hear someone showing so much contempt at the simple mention of milk. It was kind of funny coming from a child that definitely needed the calcium.

“So,” she said again. “How did you end up as Batman's associate?”

“By misfortune.”

Yeah, no, on a second thought she's not going there. “Ah, don't we all? It's always like that when he's involved, isn't it?” And there was a sense of nostalgia in her words, but it was only momentary. “But enough of this, let's talk about what are we going to do with these kittens,” that had to be a safer topic, right? “What was your plan? I'm sure you weren't thinking about breaking into my place before I found you.”

“I was going to temporally house them until I found a proper place for their reallocation.”

“Not adopting one yourself, uh?”

“I'm not in a position to care for an animal at the moment.”

With everything that was happening in his life, acquiring a new army of pets wasn't an immediate priority for Damian, that aside, he still had the intention of locating his old four-legged friends, if possible, so what was a little more of solitude after so many years of it?

“What is your protocol for cat rescuing?”

Selina wasn't a fan of the implication that this meant No One knew enough of her to know that she, in fact, was on the habit of saving furry critters from the streets when able. It wasn't like she actually believed a kid could be a terrible threat to her wellbeing, at least not one that claimed to be bat aligned, but it was unsettling that someone she never saw before had so much information, so clearly next time she saw Tim she'll have to ask him what was this all about.

She took out the cup she put in the microwave - with tea bag and sugar included - and made her way to the couch, letting the cup over the coffee table so she could get her boots off. It has been a long night, alright? Selina definitely was past caring about keeping appearances in her own home, intruding child or not.

“Just the usual, I feed them, take them to the vet if they need it and I drop them later at the shelter.”

“What shelter?”

“The one in Gillams Avenue.”

Selina chose to name that one because it was the one closer to her current location. In truth, Selina favored the one she personally sponsored, but she wasn't going to offer more information about her life, god knows what else de kid knew already.

“Paw Friends has allegations of animal mistreatment. Management says the issue has been resolved but I remain doubtful, I would recommend the one in Holroyd Close instead, at least until I verify the administration's claims.”

“Oh-ho?” she expressed melodically. “Is this your thing then? The big bad bat saves people, so you save animals?”

“I've broken bones bigger than yours.”

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her, here she was worrying about her secrets being in possession of a child with undisclosed intentions, while said child seemed more invested in dealing with animal welfare.

“Now, now, there's no need to be mean, we're practically on the same side here.”

“As if, we share very little in common. You don't even know what side I'm on.”

“Well, go on, enlight me.”

“My own, obviously.”

“See? That's something smart we can agree on.”

There was a very unfriendly answer ready in Damian's lips but he decided to kept that to himself, because he had no interest in continuing with such a pointless conversation, instead he was more interested in the kittens, that were done with their meal and looked now like tiny balls of fur. He felt very tempted to rub the kittens' fat little bellies, so it was a shame he couldn't take off his gloves to do that, but such were the injustices of life he had to accept.

Selina used the silence that followed to drink her tea and carefully observe her guest. Putting aside the suit and his idiolect, he didn't seemed all different from a kid taking enthusiastic care of a stranger's pet because he couldn't have one of his own. She wondered about what kind of life he had, because people usually didn't end in Batman's company for happy reasons and she wasn't blind, he was well trained, not in a way that some gymnastics in the community center could do, but something methodical and precise, in a manner that could only take years to learn. If he was saying the truth about Batman, was that the reason Bruce took him under his wing before everything? Because this was better than the alternative?

Her second mistake should be blamed on Zatanna, clearly something went wrong when she magically healed Selina, because at least that'd explain her past restlessness and now this sudden lack of common sense.

“I think it'd take a couple of days to get them a spot at the shelter, so, if you want, you can come and see them before that.”

“Tt, while your lack of effectiveness doesn't surprise me, your authorization is unnecessary. I've seen farm pens with better security than this place.”

If Selina were on a TV show, this would be the moment she'd turn to look at the camera with a unimpressed expression.

Damian had no problems with ignoring her again, this time so he could start moving the cats back to their pillow made enclosure. “They need appropriate accommodations.”

“I have a cat bed somewhere, dear,” she said, taking the last of her tea. “I'll make space for them in my room.” With that, Selina stood up, empty cup in hand, walking back to the kitchen without caring about being barefoot. “Do you have a curfew or something? As you can assume, I'm a very busy woman and if you're coming tomorrow,” she left the cup in the sink once she was in front of it before turning around. “I need—”

And just like that Selina found herself alone in her apartment, with only the meowing kittens for company and an open window, mocking her.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

From the long list of traits Damian wasn't especially proud, being a sore loser was one of the many. He liked to think he was better at it now, but it was a little difficult to measure such thing when the past years of his life had been about endurance and remorse. His current life was lacking of that too, because he wasn't competing with anyone: not for his place in the Wayne household, not for his right to be recognized as a Robin and not for his father's acceptance.

So he was trying to figure out if he was bothered because he was losing the current chess game he was having with Pennyworth or if it was the man's smug countenance, so proper and entertained, what was annoying him.

“Did you know,” said Pennyworth apropos nothing. “That the donation you made through Mrs. Wayne's Foundation has been accepted?”

Damian did in fact know, because whatever his plans were - big and small -, he was always paying attention; although he had more pressing matters than concerning himself with St. Aden's Orphanage's Easter celebration, it was still something he cared about. From the research he did the first time he met Colin, he found out that St. Aden was one of the many orphanages that was run under the Wayne Foundation and like all that fell under his father's charity, it was well founded so it wasn't in a dire need of Damian's own charitable efforts. But just like everything he did, this was just something purely for his own selfish reasons.

“As it should,” he answered without taking his eyes from the chessboard. “Are you trying to distract me, Pennyworth?”

“I would never,” he sounded convincingly offended by the accusation. “That would imply I need the advantage.”

Alfred was lucky Damian was so fond of him.

“I brought it up because I'd like to know if I should be preparing a customary Easter Hunt for you, sir.”

His first impulse was to scoff at such ludicrous idea and say no, because he wasn't a child. But it was just that, an automatic response from years of never considering himself a kid, not even in his earliest memories; it wasn't what Damian wanted now. He promised to himself that he'd stop rejecting the little joys of childhood, because it was the least he owed to the child he never had the chance to be.

“That would be acceptable,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. “Nothing too extravagant, simple yet tasteful would do.” And with that, he finally made his next move in the board.

“Of course, Master Damian, we wouldn't want the colorful eggs made for children to be anything but stylish.”

“You're always so hilarious, you should consider joining Grayson in the circus. You have the talent.”

The only reaction Damian got for his words, was a small amused twitch in the corners of Alfred's lips. “We should always strive to bring smiles to the ones around us.” And as if he had planned it, he made his move, successfully ending the game. “Checkmate.”

“Well played, Pennyworth,” said Damian after a moment. “You deserve to be rewarded for this, so I'll be on charge of making dinner today.”

Alfred's disapprovingly raised eyebrow was Damian's own victory... so maybe he was still a sore loser, but just the tiniest bit.

The computer in the Grave was a work in progress, while it served its main purpose, it had a lot of limitations compared with the Batcomputer, which was the reason why he had to sneak out from time to time in the cave - and more recently in the bunker - to get what he needed it. Of course, given the kind of people he lived with, sneaking out usually meant going on little infiltration operations. The safest time to do things he was trying to hide, was to do them when Grayson and Drake were too busy patrolling; the second was to do them when they were out cold after coming back from said patrolling.

Hypothetically, past four o'clock in the morning, should be a safe time to go in the bunker without having to worry much, at least in normal nights, when they didn't have wild situations going out of control by Gotham's standards. But Damian would've done well to remember that he also lived with a self-inflicted insomniac, so getting his plans ruined by Timothy Drake was frustratingly typical; at this point he really needed to install is own secret cameras in the bunker, if only to help him not waste time.

Going back as soon as he noticed that Tim was on the computer would be too suspicious, something Damian didn't need to add to when Drake already was distrustful of him, so he decided to do the first thing that came to his mind and started to walk confidently to the lockers, hoping Drake would just ignore him.

Of course he wasn't that lucky, because Tim seemed to have a natural disposition to go against his wishes. “What are you doing here?” He asked, as soon as Damian passed behind him, even if he was at a considerable distance.

“I came for my sword.” Was the disinterested answer.

Tim let out a sigh but kept working on what he was doing. “Why do you need it at this hour?”

“I can't sleep.”

“Training won't help, you're just going to overtire yourself.”

While part of Damian wanted to call out the hypocrisy, he was more focused on the fact that this was the first time he heard Drake say something that could be interpreted as worry for him, so probably at this point he was working on autopilot if he didn't mind sounding like he cared for Damian.

“It's not for that, is to help me sleep.”

“Are you seriously thinking about putting that under your pillow?”

“Not under my pillow, I just need to have it close.”

“The penthouse is up to Batman's standards, if something manages to pass that, you're going to need more than a sword.”

“It's not for defense, this is my emotional support sword.”

At this, Tim finally stopped typing and for a few seconds he just stared blankly at the screen in front of him. “I feel like I'm always asking you this, but, what?” And almost immediately he shook his head. “Forget it, don't answer, I know you're just messing with me.”

For a change Drake wasn't wrong when it came to him, so Damian wasn't going to argue. After he secured his sword and gave a quick but discreet look to the places that could be appropriate to install cameras, Damian naively thought that this will be the end of it, but when he got close to the stairs, Tim's voice made him stop right on his tracks.

“Damian.” It was just his name, but the way it was said felt too deliberate, like a command.

Drake, of course, wasn't looking at him when Damian turned around. He knew what kind of game the other was trying to play, so he just clicked his tongue with annoyance. “What?”

For a moment Tim acted like he didn't heard him or even spoke to him in the first place, so maybe Drake was fancying a kick in the shin this early in the morning, because he seemed to be asking just for that, however what he finally said next made Damian forget completely about any irritation.

“Do you still believe Bruce is going to come back?”

The unexpected question didn't surprise him that much, instead he was more curious about what thing in their interaction made Drake think about his father all of a sudden. “Yes, I do.”

At this, Tim turned the chair to look at him clearly. “Why? What proof do you have?” And his tone had a trace of mockery.

“I grew up surrounded by the legacy of a man obsessed with cheating death, I've seen the impossible become mundane.”

“That's it?” He said in a mix of disappointment and disdain. “Just because Ra's refuses to stay dead doesn't mean Bruce is somewhere out there, we have his body.”

“For all we know that's a magical clone.”

Probably it would be for the best if Damian wasn't so close to the truth, but given how utter ridiculous their lives were, his conjectures could pass just as a lucky guess.

Tim then let out a mirthless laugh, one that Damian knew very well. “That's the best you can come up with? Not like it matters,” he put his elbows in the armrests of the chair and interlocked his fingers, giving Damian a look of unmistakable condescension. “But what if you're wrong? What if all this time Bruce has been really dead and you're just in denial? What then, Damian?”

Drake's mind was a mystery. Damian couldn't even begin to fathom what triggered this, how they went from him reasoning his visit to the bunker to Tim talking like Damian was a fool, all in the blink of an eye. But he did have a theory as to why Drake, of all people, would act as if it was stupid to believe Bruce was alive.

Well, Damian was always up for theatricality, because that's what his life has always been at its core: a perpetual portrayal of what his parents wanted him to be. His life was still on a stage, the only difference was that now he was free to choose his role and how to play it.

“If my father is dead,” he started, sounding already bored. “There's only two paths for us to follow,” he unsheathed his katana and raised it at the same height of his shoulder, holding it horizontally in front of him. “We can defy the laws of nature and wage war on life and death alike,” with a subtle change of his wrist, he positioned the sword vertically, with its end pointing directly towards Tim. “And we search in heaven, hell and in-betweens until the universe kneels before us and has no other choice but give him back. Or,” in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of movement, he sheathed the sword again, setting it firmly on the ground, resting his hands - one top of the other - over its handle. “We accept that he is gone and begin to come to terms with his loss until we learn to move on.” And he waited for his words to settle before finishing his little scene. “I already know my path. What's yours?”

And as if a switch had been flipped, Tim's whole demeanor changed; he practically slouched on the chair and gone was that air of taunting and somberness. He lazily studied Damian for a moment before just sighing with fake disappointment.

“You were less annoying when you were just homicidal.” Despite his words, his tone wasn't really antagonistic. “And I bet you think you looked cool just now.”

Damian hid his amusement, finally abandoning his imitation a general in front of his army. “The fact that you think that's what I was trying to do, denotes that you indeed thought I was, as you said, 'cool'.” Tim just rolled his eyes and turned the chair going back to his work, looking like he didn't try some kind of strange test on Damian just a moment ago. “You shouldn't stay so late, you know how Pennyworth feels about that.”

“Mind your own business and go cuddle your sword or something. And you better not tell Alfred you saw me here.”

“I don't need to, he always knows.”

Considering how true that was, Tim's lack of retort was expected, unlike the whole exchange they just had, but psychological warfare aside, that had been one of their most civil conversations, so overall Damian was counting it as a win.

⪻Chapter 12

Chapter 14⪼

#f.r.w.#chap13

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doodling-doodle · 1 year

Text

An Ice Touch (CH.1)

Kyle Price. The son of famous sailors, making a name for himself in the art world. He was happy. Mostly.

For his whole life, he watched his fathers in love. So deeply in love. And he wanted it for himself. Where was his lover?

He only now, at eighteen, wanted it more than anything.

He didn’t know what to do.

So, of course, that meant he kept quiet.

And he would keep being quiet.

—

When he was ten years old, he knew he wanted what his fathers had together. A beautiful, near life-long relationship. And he didn’t have it. He didn’t know how or why, but he just… never tried to make a move. On anyone. He figured that his dad had enough to worry about while he was off on his sailing trips. Why add another person to worry about coming home to?

He remembered sitting in his bedroom, at his desk, feeling alone. His father was on a trip, his pops was asleep. The only other people he had been around were Aunt Kate and Aunt Ava, in their own house, half a mile away. The only other house outside of the village.

He didn’t remember how he ended up with his pops holding him tight, his desk frozen, things in his room floating, him crying in his pops chest.

“It’s alright, little one.” His pops whispered to him, “everything is okay. Dad’s safe. Your okay.”

He didn’t remember what he said, just, “don’t tell dad.”

And he never did.

He remembered being sixteen. When he finally had a new friend. His father came back from a sailing trip with someone from another island.

“This is Johnny.” His father said when he brought him to their house, “He’s going to stay with us for a while until he’s eighteen and finds a home in the village.”

He and Johnny, who later asked to be called Soap, became really close in that time. And he finally started feeling a lot better. It took about two years for Soap to move out, though they kept in touch with letters.

He was eighteen now. An adult. He was still talking with Soap, he started to get fame, he was… happy. Happier, at least.

“Morning, little one.” his father said as he got to the kitchen, seeing him at the counter, turning a small glass of water to ice.

“Hey, dad.”

“You hungry?”

He nodded softly, and his father smiled, “What would you like?”.

“Pancakes?” He said, looking up from the glass, at his father standing above him.

His father nodded, “of course.” He looked down, “I don’t understand why you did this. It just drains your energy.”

He shrugged, pushing his braided hair behind his shoulder, “its calming and entertaining.”

“Its draining.”

“Not on such a small thing. If I were to freeze the sea, it would be.”

He heard a soft chuckle, “Oh, Kyle, what am I gonna do with you, mate?”

“Probably be a little confused because I’m not big on sailing and fishing.”

“Nope, we all love your paintings and how creative you are. Such a smart boy, you are.”

He smiled slightly, pulling his hand away from the glass.

“Your a precious little thing.” His father said, giving him a plate of pancakes, gently cradling his face.

“I agree.” His pops said as he walked in, kissing his forehead, “perfect little boy.”

He smiled a little, “You remind me every day.” He said as he started eating.

“Becuase its true.” his father said.

He smiled, “Thank you.” He whispered.

He eventually finished eating, and he went back to his room to get his drawing stuff and head out to sketch the ocean.

“Be back for lunch!” His father called out before he left.

“I will be!” He ran out the door, out to his favorite spot to draw. An old tree, branches over the ocean.

It was so relaxing. Just to be off the ground, having a beautiful view of the ocean and mountains and sky. He had always came out here for the whole time he’d been drawing. He had painting supplies in his room at the Lighthouse, but this was the perfect place to just… draw and relax.

He sighed as he walked over on the cliff, looking down at the water below before climbing up the tree, like he had many times before, to take out his sketch book.

He smiled as he sat on the same branch he had many times…

… And it cracked.

He started to get off, but, it snapped before he could, sending him down to the ocean screaming.

He fell flat on his back in the water, and he was far below the surface.

He felt something wrap around his waist, then his arms and legs, as he was pulled back to the surface and shore.

He took deep breaths as he was brought above the water, and he realized what it was...

A Kraken.

He screamed, curling in on himself. He was scared, his fathers told him about krakens being deadly…

But this one saved him?

"Don't worry... I won't harm you." The Kraken said.

"You... you won't?"

"No. We're not dangerous. Only if we need to be."

Kyle looked at him, seeing that... he was nothing like his father's described. He looked... soft. Gentle.

He nodded.

"What's your name?" The Kraken asked, kneeling down and pulling him up.

"Kyle... you?"

“Alex.”

He sighed, holding onto the deep blue tentacles, "thank you... for saving me..."

He smiled, "no need to thank me."

He smiled back, and heard his pops calling for him

"Kyle! Where are you?"

He stood, "coming!"

Alex let go of him, smiling, and turning.

"Alex!"

He turned back.

"Will I... see you again?"

He smiled, "I'm sure."

He smiled, nodding, "I'll see you around, then." He ran up the hill, seeing his father run his hand through his hair, mildly panicking.

"Kyle! There you are!" He said, running up to him, "the tree- did you fall? Your soaked- are you hurt?"

He shook his head, "I fell... I'm okay..."

"Come, let's get you home, changed and warm." He said, gently pulling him along, "did you hit your head? Your powers?"

"I'm okay, pops, really."

He sighed, kissing his forehead, "Okay. Dad's still going to check you out, though, okay?"

"I'm not a child... I'm 18."

"You'll always be our little baby boy."

They walked back to the light house, and Kyle looked out to the ocean, hoping to see the Kraken again.

“John!”

He looked over, and panicked, running up to him.

“What happened, son?”

“The tree snapped… I fell.”

“Go get changed, I’ll get a fire going.”

He nodded, going off to his room. He felt fine, just a little sore. More then anything, wanting to see that kraken again. He quickly changed, seeing a small bruise on his arm. He sighed, getting a long sleeved shirt on with a different pair of trousers and went back out to the living room, sitting on the couch with a plate of food.

“Are you okay, little one?” His father asked, sitting next to him.

“I’m fine. Shaken, is all.”

He wasn’t bleeding, at least.

“And your powers?”

He looked at the side table, making a small glass of water float, bringing it towards himself to freeze it, which he did.

“Okay… that’s good.” He gently kissed his temple, feeling his braid be taken out and undone,, “eat and rest, okay?”

He nodded, looking down at his half empty plate, sighing, eating what he had left before putting it off to the side and laying down on the couch. He wasn’t sleepy. At all. But he’d fake it for them. They were worried.

His pops sighed, laying a blanket over him, thinking he was asleep. “There’s a storm on the way.” He whispered to his father.

Fuck. That wasn’t good. They had to prepare for that storm. The old Lighthouse might not be able to handle it. They worried that a strong gust of wind would knock it over. They needed to fix it before the storm.

“Let’s get to the village. We need to get supplies.” His father said, standing.

“But… Kyle…”

“He’s… Leave a note for when he wakes up. He’s eighteen, we have to… stop hovering so much.”

Well. That was a first. He had turned eighteen ten months ago. They, understandably, were still getting used to him being an adult and older. But, they’d been getting better.

He heard the door close, and he got up, sighing.

He wanted to warn Alex. That would give him an excuse to see him again, at least.

---

@lvndr-swtr

#cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #alex keller #john price #phillip graves #price x graves #gazalex #An Ice Touch AU

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scoups4lyfe · 1 year

Text

Welcome to the Show -BD PPT Part 10

Again, I have ADHD and BD and can agree that yes, My ADHD symptoms sucked extra hard when added to the early BD onset.

The below entry shows (1) binge-eating and (2) OCD intrusive-esque thoughts.

[Journal entry]

October 1st, 2022

Sabbath, 3:24 PM

Last night I went to bed at about 6:00 AM. Today I woke at 2:30-ish.

The first thing I noticed when I got out of bed was (1) I was very tired, (2) my neck hurt just a bit, so I slept on it wrong—not badly enough though—because it doesn’t hurt at all now, praise the lord; (3) hungry.

There was a hunger about me.

I remembered how last night like a desperate man I scavenged through our kitchen. I think it’s the mania making me hungry, because I just felt this overwhelming need to eat something.

The caramel was gone, as was the jam, so I had taken an apple we got on wednesday that we bought from a farmer lol, and now it was all I had. So I ate about half of it.

These honey crisp apples taste really good. I kind of chided myself for indulging in one though, because my stomach was burning pain—like scabs inside my gut, or internal bleeding—and I had trouble with even the idea of consuming any kind of solid food. My dad brought home instant mashed potatoes because of this. So, what in the world was I doing at 4:00 in the morning??? Eating an apple when I know solid food isn't going to go down well? (Doesn’t matter cause I ate it anyway, lmao.)

But I was still hungry—so I ate old taco bell beef-corn tortilla hard shell—tacos that sat on the stove. (That can’t be a healthy dietary choice LOL.) After I finished one of them, I went back to my room, I don’t know to do what, probably waste time on youtube or with editing screenshots from Donbrothers episode 19, and man my stomach took to that taco like gasoline to fire.

Almost immediately I regretted making that choice.

But then an hour later I went back to the leftover taco bell, and had some of the dorito taco (not all of it), just maybe ⅓ or half. [Then I fvcked around and went to bed maybe a few hours later.]

Today is sabbath—so y’know—I’m supposed to be resting. And I AM.

Comma, space, however—

Well. There are just things that I want to do. I’ve gathered my sketchbook, [insert a bunch of writing journals and reference books] and also my pencil case.

(LMAO.)

Ngl though, the fact that it’s 4:00 PM had the burning—lightning-ous—feeling, back inside my stomach. I had it before I even started this journal entry, and I still have it now. Like my mind—or more aptly, my fvcking stupid-a$$ intrusive thoughts (Kyle <3) — just kept repeating:

“ah, the day is over, you didn’t do anything, the day is over, you didn’t do anything, the day is basically already finished and what are you doing? Sitting here on the couch knowing that you will never be able to do any of the things that you want to do, because the day is over and you’ve already done nothing. You’ve done it again. The only thing it seems you **are** able to do— nothing. Isn’t that funny? Now you’ll have to try again on Sunday, and inevitably fail again. The day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over the day is over

the day is over—”

ENOUGH!

And whenever I look at the clock, or think about the time, or even just see the shadows in the curtains, my thoughts do it all over again—and again—and again.

Then I can feel the breath in my throat, and all the energy inside my stomach just is everywhere. Anxiety.

(Not a great feeling lmao.)

So yeah—I’ll try and come back here before I go to bed ( I mean, don’t count on it LOL), and so ….yeah. I got nothing else to really say rn other than, uh, see you later? (Lordt.)

[entry end]

The above entry I think does a good job at showing binge-eating. It’s super easy for people with BD to end up with an eating disorder.

I fvcking fainted in college because I slept during the cafeteria hours so I was surviving on like…vending machine m&ms. Not to mention when I get in those depressive periods I can go full days without eating because I either can’t get out of bed or the idea of eating makes me nauseous.

And then there will be days where I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, and almost like sleep-walk in a daze to the kitchen and eat whatever I can get my hands on no matter how sh*tty and unappetizing it is.

Anyways—all this to say that BD comes with extra baggage of mental illness 😵‍💫🤤🥴🤕👻👾👾👾👾👽🙀😮‍💨🫠.

Still cannot stop laughing at the youtube comment LOL.

"Wow! Bipolar people are human too!" Like yeah, who would've thought

🤪

Just goes to show how powerful and prevalent stigma is for mental illness -- but esp. for BD.

Hopefully this info helps get rid of that stigma >:/

....༼ง’̀-‘́༽ง

༼ง’̀-‘́༽ง mfer

If someone tells you they’re Bipolar, that can be a very real and very big thing. That means they trust you. So writing it off as, “that doesn’t matter to me” comes off as insensitive because it matters to US, bro. It fvcking matters to us.

I was watching a podcast where the speaker (who had Bipolar) was talking about their experience where they met this guy that seriously did not believe Bipolar was a real actual thing and thought those people needed to “get over themselves.” Which infuriates me to the SEVENTH degree. It’s also wild asf, but again.

Y’all don’t know SHXT when it comes to Bipolar

For those still asking this question:

tldr; y'all don't know SHXT about Bipolar. x2

"Y'all" including mental health professionals and doctors 🤪

naw fr though.

Normally I would be like "yeah, whatever" but using that as an adj can get tricky ESPECIALLY if you start using it to describe a person because then you might spread unintentional bias and misinformation onto others.

"Oh --Vegas is bipolar?" No. He is NOT bipolar.

Don't. fvcking. Use. That. ADJECTIVE!!!

So, Werewolves = Bipolar in a nutshell

(Let me explain lmao.)

Werewolves have 2 sides to themselves — the human side, which is mainly present and in control, and the beast — which comes out every moon cycle or so, raises all sorts of hell, and then disappears. Always leaving the human counterpoint to deal with the aftermath.

Humans that turn into werewolves prepare for full moons — often going into isolation so as to not hurt their loved ones, or irreparably damage their life, and the lives of those around them.

With a good support system, a werewolf can live a normal life (mostly), where their other-self isn’t always wrecking havoc. For people with Bipolar, it’s the same. We are not always werewolves. We are often human. Our illness is cyclical — it will always have a new cycle, and it cannot be cured. When we have an “episode” — though no two bipolar people are the same; how we act, think, feel, and what we do can change. We are not separate from “the beast,” however. Both sides are very much the same person. Though they can be drastically — drastically — different.

In his interview with Rolling Stone, Ian stated (about one of the songs on his album):

“— On “Miss Understood,” it’s a character’s diary entry where she fell in love with Ian but she kinda fell in love with MITO, too. It comes from personal experience; I want to date when I’m Ian, but there was one moment where she liked the darkness in me, which was weird because it’s like, “You don’t really know what this brings.” But she stuck around, and it was hard to be me in front of her. There was a sense of inferiority, for sure, because I know how different I am between my states, but also I was very cautious not to give my all in that [down] state because I’m not wanting to hurt someone mentally. So I’d just seclude myself. A lot of the songs in this album hit on this note.”

For the moon, Bipolar episodes are (as previously stated, perhaps multiple times) cyclical. They run in cycles — over and over and over again. The days come and go, but then there will always be that transition into a full moon, just as how the entire moon will also eventually completely disappear from sight during a New Moon. (Plus the connection / belief popular culture has with the superstition that a Full Moon brings madness with it / lunacy.)

So we’ve finally come to the end of this PPT series…genuinely hoped this was enlightening to anyone it happened to come across.

If you have any other questions feel free to comment or dm me. 🥳

Journal Entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

PPT Essay Extras: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

PPT Essay: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7] , [8], [9]

Visual Clips (Depressive Episodes): (1), (2)

#yeah so this is the end of the ppt #how did you guys like it?#learn anything? LOL #asking for friend #my thougts #bipolaire #bipolar disorder #manic depression #actually bipolar #mental health #neurodiversity #neurodivergencies #dpr ian #dpr we gang gang #christian yu #fvcking moodswings ⚡️✌️#a scoup of life 🔫🦆

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countrymusiclover · 2 years

Text

12 - Weighted Nightmares

Part 13

Military Lovers

Tags @casedoina @mads-weasley @shikshinkwon @mrspeacem1nusone

"Will you marry me?" He asked still bent down on one knee with Kyle sitting on his butt his head titled to the side in confusion. Looking down to him I know a million thoughts ran through my mind. Everything that we went through and everything that I thought I'd lost if him because of Hailey. Resting my hands over my mouth I shake my head. "Jay I - are you sure you want me. Me and Kyle with everything that we have. I mean I love you, I know that but-" He simply nodded reassuringly still holding the ring in his hands. "Y/n it doesn't matter what you have to deal with. I'll take you problems and all." Biting my lip I nodded finally answering him. "Then yes. Yes I'll marry you." He slips the ring on my finger kissing me slowly. That was the last night I slept peacefully.

Now my nights were filled with never-ending nightmares that would haunt me in the dark of night, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake it away. As I was dead asleep in the queen-sized bed, wrapped under the soft covers I soon started to toss and turn, sweat began to drip from my forehead, once again I was having another nightmare. "No, no get away - get away from him - you. can't hurt him!" I screamed out twisting my fingers around the blanket until the bedroom door opened and the bed creaked. Hands grabbed my wrists pinning them above my head calling me out. "Y/n, Y/n, it's just me. You're with me!" My eyes stared up into his blue ones trying to catch my breath and slow my heartbeat until he released my wrists.

Thunder started off in the distance as Jay and I were cuddling up underneath the blankets on the couch with Kyle at our feet on the floor. The rain hit the window softly as my head lays on Jay's tea shirt. The thunder gets closer and louder and the rain picks up with some flashing of lightning. Kyle jumps to his feet running under the kitchen table back and forth. Then scratches at the door barking loudly until Jay got to his feet seeing him he spun around baring his teeth snarling with his tail stuck straight up in the air. "Hey Kyle. It's alright. It's me Jay, you remember me...it's just a storm it won't hurt you." He holds up his right hand bending down on a knee seeing Kyle's claws dig into the wooden floor. This was the first time Kyle was ever violent around him.

"Jay get back. He might hurt you." I warned him getting to my feet stepping around him but he shoves his arm in front of my chest and Kyle suddenly stretched his back launching himself forward. "Jay, look out!" Grabbing one of my boots his teeth bite down on it as I whispered pulling him down to lay on the wooden floor, my right hand scratching underneath his ears hearing the thunder disappearing. "Sssshh boy. It's okay. It's over, there's no threat anymore." Kyle whimpered laying his head in my lap as I hugged him body looking to Jay mumbling. "Never think he won't hurt you Jay. He was trained to be a war dog."

The next few months after that I tried to find a place where I could get back to training Kyle like the old days. The closest thing I found was the playground that isn't used because it was falling apart. Jay parked the car looking to me as I get him out only barley having a grip on the leash. "Are you sure he won't bite my hand off again?" He asked and I shake my head no giving him his leash stepping back as we stood by a set of stairs. "No I'm not. I called the academy trainer and he said that Kyle needs to form the same bond he has with me." Jay shook his head mentioning my time as a hostage. "But he never hurt me when you were gone. What triggered this?" Brushing hair from my face Kyle closely watching the two of us. "The trainer said that the thunderstorm likely triggered the part of his brain that is most affected by PTSD. He most likely won't be able to tell the difference from a thunderstorm to an actual gunshot anymore."

"So what do we - uh I do?" He asked as I don't respond so he just gives Kyle an order to start moving. "Jump up! Run and jump." Kyle hesitantly climbed the ramp then stared at him before jumping over onto a higher platform. Jay started to pet him with a praise but he digs his claws into the floor. "Jay, he can sense your fear when you're death gripping the leash. You have to let go and trust that he'll do the job. Let's move to level two, searching the tunnels for...me." I ran off climbing through the platforms then up into a tree in a section of trees where I'm hidden well. Not even a second later Kyle stands on his back legs barking up at me making ms smile climbing down looking for Jay.

But as I scanned the area I felt something wasn't right so I picked up his leash saying. "Search Ky, go search." He immediately moved forward nose to the mulch dragging me back to the spot we started at but when I looked around Jay was no where to be found. "Kyle I don't understand-" He yanked me forward grabbing something in his mouth dropping it in my hands. Opening my freehand I saw a bloody piece of his jacket torn and I knew then my worst fear had come true. That's what my recent nightmares had become. That something would happen to Jay. I've always felt that someone was watching over my shoulder since the Afghanistan leader was blown up, but I remember him mentioning there were others. That they would come after the people I loved if something were to happen to him like getting arrested or blown up. Kyle whimpered laying down at my boots as I close my hand around the fabric of his jacket. "Don't you worry Jay. We're going to find you."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#military lovers #jay halstead x reader fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd #marine military #military dogs #wattpad fanfiction #comments really appreciated

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

It's As Real As You And Me

Batsis x Kyle Rayner One-Shot

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst,

Author's Note: If you cry while writing, it means you're doing it right...right? -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Do we have to get out of bed today?” he groaned, silencing the alarm that had been snoozed at least three times before. “I don’t wanna get out of bed today.”

She snorted at him, rolling rather slowly to face his bedside. “I don’t think we have to.” She said. “We’re old. We can do whatever we want.”

He thought for a moment, old eyes trying to focus on the woman beside him; but without his glasses he couldn’t see a damn thing. “Breakfast at Pop’s?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she replied, rising from the bed. “I’m showering first.”

“Oh no you don’t!” he retorted, trying to hurry after her and she laughed, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Stop that, Kyle, before you pop your hip outta place again.”

“Ah, it’ll pop back in, (Y/N). Quit worrying.”

(Y/N) frowned at him, pointing, “You keep on and I’ll talk the kids into putting us into an old folks’ home so I can keep an eye on you better.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Kyle griped. “We’d lose the only independence we’ve got, and you don’t wanna do that.”

They glared at each other for a minute before smiles split across their faces and they fell into laughter, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

He gently raised a hand, caressing her cheek. “And I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” Pecking her lips three times, he pulled away and she helped him to his feet.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ready.” She said and he gasped dramatically.

“Well, Missus Rayner, you want to fool around in the shower? At our age?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“God, it’s been like seven decades and you’re still the biggest skirt chasing dork ever.”

Kyle grinned at her. “I try.”

***

“Did KJ call you back like he said he was going too?”

“Mhm,” he answered, cutting into the waffles on his plate. “Spoke to him last night. Said he’d call again after he and Thomas get back from Vermont with Sophia and the other grandkids.” He looked at her, putting the fork in his mouth. “Martha Ann call you about Devin?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yes. He’s gotten in trouble with GCPD again.” She waved it off, picking up her coffee cup. “I’ve half a mind to tell her to send our grandson to Jason and let him sort that boy out.”

Kyle snorted. “Jason would wear that kid like a slipper.”

“That’s what he needs.” She shot back. “This is the second time in a month that he’s been caught shoplifting. Mark my words, husband of mine, that boy’s a kleptomaniac and if Martha Ann doesn’t do something about it, he’s going to get worse.”

He placed a hand on hers. “You’re getting worked up again. Relax.”

“How many times have I told you not to tell me to relax?”

“I don’t know, how many times have I not listened?”

“Ass.”

“Old lady.”

“I swear I’ve never seen two elderly people more in love and so at odds with one another than I have you two.” They glanced up, seeing Stacy with the coffee pot and another plate of eggs and bacon. “Refills?”

(Y/N) smiled and held out her cup. “Thanks Stacy.”

“Of course!” she looked at her. “You two going anywhere after this?”

Kyle met (Y/N)’s gaze and offered a shrug; she nodded. “I suppose we could take a drive around the countryside. You know, like old people do on Sundays.”

Stacy laughed. “Missus Rayner, you don’t look a day over twenty-five. Now Mister Rayner, I’m afraid that white hair of yours tells me you are more than a few over twenty-five.”

He scowled at the waitress. “If there was ever a time I wish was still in my twenties, it’d be now.” He gestured to the walking cane. “Bum hip. Bum leg.”

“Bum head.” (Y/N) coughed under her breath and he glared at her.

“You think you’re funny.”

“I think I’m adorable.” She smirked, waggling her brows and Stacy merely laughed, wandering back into the kitchen. (Y/N) sighed. “It does make you think though…about the old days.”

Kyle nodded. “I wouldn’t trade our time for anything but...” he squeezed her hand. “I want to be back in that suit just for a minute.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah…patrolling with dad and Dick and the others.” Her eyes started to moisten, and she inhaled sharply, dabbing at her eyes. “Sorry sweetheart.”

His smile held sympathy. “You never have to apologize, muse.” She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “I miss them too.” His voice was rather hoarse, and they sat in silence the rest of the meal, remembering their dearest siblings and friends who’d passed on. Her father Bruce, and oldest brother Dick, both their wives too. And Kyle’s closest friends had all gone on too; Guy, John, and Hal had passed the month before.

The price of getting old, they guessed.

***

“I wish my hands were still able to hold pencils like I once could.”

(Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder, eyes scanning the expanse of the sunset before them. “I know what you mean.” She inhaled the scent of the freshly cut grass beside the shore. “Your painting of this would be beautiful.”

Kyle hummed. “Not as beautiful as you are.”

“I’m ninety-two and you’re telling me that even covered in wrinkles and white hair that I’m prettier than the skyline?”

He nodded. “Always have been.” He shifted until he could see her face. “Always will be, my beautiful muse.”

(Y/N) grinned like the heavens had split and leaned close, pecking his three times lips. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.”

***

She turned the burner off, pouring the gravy into the boat, before setting it on the small table. “Dinner’s ready.” She called towards the living room. He’d gone into the old study when they’d gotten home and pulled out his art supplies, determined to prove he still had it.

(Y/N) frowned. “Sweetheart, dinner’s ready!” she called a little louder that time and then huffed a laugh. “Fool fell asleep.”

Wandering through the kitchen doorway into the living room, she saw him in his recliner, chin tucked into his chest, eyes closed. She sat on the side of his recliner and touched his shoulder. “Kyle, dinner’s on the table.” He didn’t open his eyes and she bent her head down to look at his face. “Kyle?”

She reached down and took one of his hands, it was cooling. “Sweetheart?” Something tightened in her throat and with her other hand, she gently pressed underneath his jaw, holding for a few seconds before she let out a pained breath. “Oh, Kyle.”

(Y/N) curled her hand tighter around his, leaning down to press her lips to his temple. She couldn’t bring herself to move as she let out a quiet sob, pressing her face into his hair. “I love you,” she whispered. “I hope you know that.” Her lips wobbled and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I wouldn’t trade our seventy-five years for anything. We lived a beautiful life.”

She pulled away and gently took his glasses off his face, setting them onto the table. Her eyes fell to his lap where his other hand lay, a color pencil still held in it. (Y/N) felt a watery laugh bubble in her chest as she saw the last masterpiece he’d ever made.

A portrait of the sunset they'd been looking at that day. A beautiful blend of red, orange, pink, and purple cascading across the sheet like an explosion of the sky.

Her eyes fell across the words written in white along the edge,

To my beautiful muse. Always and forever.

He still had it.

And it was perfect.

***

“Julia, can you push me out onto the patio?” she asked, looking out the window. “I think I wanna sit outside for a few moments.”

The young woman, no older than twenty-two smiled brightly. “Of course, Miss Rayner!” she happily complied, pushing (Y/N)’s wheelchair out onto the cobblestone patio, sitting her next to the table. “Do you want me to bring your dinner to you?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Julia wandered off and she glanced towards the skyline. It had been about six months since she let her children talk her into getting an in-home nurse after he had passed. She had argued, but after falling twice, she knew it was time to have someone look after her. (Y/N) was adamant about not going to a senior citizens home; she wanted to stay in the home her and him had built until she went too.

Her children and grandchildren had visited her the week before, all having to return to their lives once school had started and jobs went back. She understood—(Y/N)’d once been a busy wife and mother too. But it was lonely without him, and she missed him dearly.

Her eyes found the skyline again and she sighed heavily, feeling rather tired all of the sudden. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. And she knew Julia wasn’t the best cook so it’d take a while before dinner would be ready.

Just a few minutes of sleep.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few—

***

A warm breeze blew across her skin, and she cracked her eyes open, glancing out the open window of her bedroom. It felt like a normal Saturday morning. The type of mornings where she’d wake up to Tim or Damian jumping on her bed and telling her to get down to breakfast.

She blinked a few moments, not registering a thing until someone chuckled beside her. “You’ve been sleeping pretty soundly, sweetheart.”

Looking over, her eyes widened as she saw her father before her, young and handsome like he’d once been, sitting on the side of her bed. “Dad?” she breathed, and he smiled.

“Hello (Y/N).”

She shot up in a second, wrapping her arms around his neck, his own winding around her waist. “Dad,” she cried, tears gathering in her eyes. “You’re here.”

“I think it’s you who’s here, (Y/N).”

“What?” she pulled away and looked at him; her eyes drifted to the mirror hanging beside her door and she caught sight of herself—it registered as she lifted her hands to her face, no more wrinkles, no more snow-white hair, no more aches and pains.

“Looks like I fell asleep for more than a few minutes, didn’t I, dad?” she laughed, though she felt a deep sorrow.

He smiled sadly at her. “It’s the best way to go.”

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears, and she gazed at him. “I’ve missed you so much, dad.”

“I’ve missed you more, sweetheart.” Bruce replied, gently thumbing her cheek. “All of you.” He smiled again. “But you’re here now…and there’s a lot of people waiting to see you.”

Standing from the bed, he held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him pull her up; he walked over to the door and opened it, pulling her along as he stepped through it.

The scenery shifted from that of her bedroom to the backyard of Wayne Manor and she looked out to a large picnic table and seated around it were all the family and friends she’d lost through the decades. Dick was waving like a maniac, Kori beside him doing the same. They both looked young too. Hal, Guy, and John were sitting on the other side, ribbing Wally, Roy, and Garth over something; they too were young.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why is everybody young again?”

Bruce hummed. “We all return to the best moments in our lives. When we were our biggest and greatest.” He glanced over her at something and smiled. “There’s someone who’s been waiting for you.”

(Y/N) looked at him with pulled brows then over in the direction he was, and she brought a hand to her mouth. She broke into a dead sprint across the backyard, leaping into his open and waiting arms. He lifted her with ease, like he used to do when he was young. Spinning them around, he buried his face in her hair as she buried hers in his shoulder as she shook with sobs.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to have dinner with you one last time, (Y/N).”

She pulled away and placed her hands on his cheek, putting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you, Kyle.”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “You were there.” He reached up, putting a hand on her cheek. “You look as beautiful as the day I left you.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, but she smiled widely. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” He pecked her lips three times. “Forever.”

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goggles-mcgee · 4 years

Note

Can we have some head canons from Wish Me Away? Baby!Marinette sounds absolutely adorable!

Of course!

• The first person to find Marinette is Titus and at first Tikki and Plagg freak out but baby Marinette is all smiles and just happily rushes over to the "chiot (puppy)" as she keeps repeating

• Titus looks at this tiny human and just is like, ah yes she is tiny family. Must bring to Damian. Which he does by picking her up by the back of her onsie gently and taking her to down to the Batcave where he knows the family and Damian is.

• Tikki and Plagg of course go along after insuring that the Miracle Box is hidden somewhere safe and that Marinette is in no actual danger with the giant dog.

• Damian just hears Titus's footsteps and turns around to greet his dog but freezes when he sees the tiny infant in his dogs jaw. He literally doesn't know how to react other than to stare until finally he punches his father on the arm and angrily point at Marinette. "Father! Another? I thought I was the last one!"

• Bruce turns at that and is just as, if not more, confused as he take in the sight of the baby that is being put down by Titus. She stares at all of them just staring at her and starts to whine and tries to hide behind the large dog. "I'm fairly certain she's not mine. More importantly where did Titus get her from?"

• Dick is the one to swing into action and approach the small girl, he makes sure to sit down to reduce his height hoping it'll make him less intimidating before he introduces himself. "Hello, I'm Dick, who are you?"

Marinette gave him a big smile and waved, "Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, Bonjour!"

Or well Dick thinks she said Bonjour, it was a little baby-fied, but he gave her a smile and waved in return.

• Jason is just staring at the small child, but he is trying to be as discreet as possible as he puts his gun back in it's holster.

• Tim is out of his seat as well and sitting on the ground too as he looks at her, "black hair, blue eyes, and a note attached to her shirt that translates to 'They wished me away, Here I am safe'. I don't know Bruce, seems right up your alley." He mumbles with a raised brow and small smirk.

• Now it was Damian's turn to come and sit, he took the note off the girl fast but he tried to be gentle about it. He read and just looks at his father like he is actually absolutely done with him. "Did you seduce some French woman we didn't know about? Father what about the Kyle woman? This child can't be more than a year old."

• At this point Jason can't hold it in anymore and just absolutely loses it and starts laughing, Marinette doesn't know what's going on but she hears laughing and she starts laughing to. Alfred hears commotion going on and goes down to the Batcave with sandwiches and sees this little girl laughing along with Jason and just sighs and looks over at Bruce and shakes his head. "Oh Master Bruce, not again."

• Jason loses it again, and Dick and Tim have joined him, which makes Marinette laugh even harder and Damian even gives a small smirk.

• Once they calm down Marinette gets up and walks over to Alfred who looks down and greets her. All she does is give him a smile and points to her heart then his and says "Paon." Everyone is confused as to why this small child just called Alfred a peacock and the the floating things came out and chaos erupted.

• the Kwami, as that's what they said they were explained everything that happened to the small child and what the were and who she was, there was another long discussion on what was to be done. It wasn't really hard for Bruce to decide he would adopt her but he was rather upset that she was supposedly the Guardian of these gods and the magical jewelry they were bound to and there was nothing he could do about that. Also the fact she did remember her past life so that may make things a bit difficult if not interesting.

• There was also the fact they would need to give her a new identity, Bruce explained it to everyone and everyone wanted to help pick a name for her. Marietta Martha Méh-fùnh Fu-Wayne. The boys had all wanted their picked names in there but Bruce vetoed that very fast as well as the last names because Marietta's name would have been 20 names long already.

• It was work but they were all getting used to having little Mari around along with the little gods that floated around with her. Alfred had quickly made up a room for her and he asked what color she liked and it was no surprise when she yelled out an excited "Pink!"

• It was also hard to adjust to having a baby around especially when they went out to do their vigilante business. It was especially a big surprise when a little bundle of red and black polka-dots knocked Batman out of the sky when he was using his grappling hook with a loud "Dad-dee!"

• There is now a swear jar in the manor after the F Word incident that occurred with Jason and Mari.

• Gotham is in LOVE with little Marietta when Bruce introduces her at a gala. She even meets Jagged again and she melts his heart when she gets excited to see him and goes "Uncle Jagged! Rock an Roll!" And Jagged is just like "Hell yeah I'm your uncle. Penny did you hear that? I'm her uncle!"

• The Justice League all make jokes and just genuinely laugh about the whole thing until they meet her and then Diana bows to the child and calls her Little Goddess and then confusion sets in.

• So many kwami shenanigans because Mari takes them out to play with them and they are DELIGHTED

• Damian is a little jealous of Mari in the beginning but then he catches her trying to copy him when he's training and he can't help but smile at her and help her, then he takes her to the library to draw and that's how they bond, that and with the animals.

• Dick likes to teach her gymnastics. He likes to hear her laugh when he straps her on to him so he can take her on the aerial silks that Bruce and Alfred got him for Christmas one year.

• Jason reads to her with her in his lap. Not just kid books but classical literature, he knows she's paying attention and that makes him laugh a little bit he loves it.

• Tim and her watch movies together, especially if she feels like he's doing too much work and is stressed.

• Alfred and her bake, well she "mixes" things for him, he even bought her a little stool and a matching apron with his. He may have also bought her mini kitchen utensils.

• Bruce doesn't really know what to do with her but he likes to watch her play with her toys that he bought her, but he notices that she likes to watch him while he works in the study so he set up a little desk for her to "work" on. Really she just scribbled nonsensically on papers and showed them off to him. Sometimes he would ask her something about his work and she would babble at him or nod her head solemnly.

• Sometimes Mari has nightmares and it's really sad to hear, the only one she seems to let help her besides the kwamis is Alfred, Cass when she's over, and Jason.

• It was take your child to work day and Bruce took Mari when he had a meeting he had forgotten about, at this point Mari has already turned 2, he takes her in the meeting with him when the other party agrees it's fine. He expects Mari to be her friendly excited self but when they get into the meeting he feels her freeze in his arms when he greets Mrs Emilie Agreste and her son Adrien. The whole meeting Mari is hiding her face in his chest and shaking, he's terribly worried and more so when he sees Tikki glaring at the woman and her son from Mari's backpack.

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years

Text

Giving Home a Heartbeat - @doubleredweek Day 7

Read on AO3

Jason’s pretty sure that somewhere underneath all these boxes is the house they bought, he’s just not quite sure where.

“Jay Jay, Daddy stopped picking up boxes and sat down, so I’m picking up the slack!” Lian shouts over the distinct scraping sound of cardboard. Jason turns and there she is walking backwards her tiny hands pulling a box along that’s practically the same size as her not even breaking a sweat. Sometimes Jason thinks they really need to ask Jade about any superhuman abilities she might be hiding that could have been passed down.

Jason shakes his head and walks over to her lifting the box and sitting it over with the rest of the living room Jenga stack of cardboard boxes that is their life.

“Good work princess,” Jason says ruffling her hair as she sidles up next to him looking at all the boxes with a much more gleeful look on her face than the one he’s sporting.

“I am not slacking,” Roy shouts with a struggling groan. Jason turns back to the door watching as Roy takes a step through with three heavy boxes precariously stacked on top of one another in his arms blockading Roy’s body almost entirely from view. Jason rushes over to his side taking the highest one revealing Roy’s head his messy hair dripping with sweat and poking out wildly from underneath his backwards cap.

“These are the last ones and I just didn’t want to make numerous trips,” he grunts shifting the boxes in his arms. “Dick and Babs are taking the truck back and sweetly said they will not be coming back to help us unpack.” Jason rolls his eyes eight siblings, one younger than them aunt, two pseudo sisters-in-laws, a literal space traveling brother-in-law, three parental figures and one grandfatherly figure between the two of them and not one of them stuck around long enough to put all these boxes through the front door.

“We don’t know exactly how you want everything set up,” Connor had justified as he and Kyle started floating up into the sky and away as soon as the truck was full as if Jason, Roy and especially Lian wouldn’t happily boss them around with instructions of where to place things.

Stephanie, Tim and Damian even had the audacity to eat half the moving day pizza on their own, pick up one box together and then disappear. Teamwork Steph had called it before high fiving Roy and running after her boyfriend. Chaotic bisexuals Roy had sighed as they sped away on her motorcycle Damian already long gone slipping off like a silent shadow in the mid-day.

At least Roy and Jason hadn’t had to pay for the pizza they got one shared slice of, after twenty minutes of arguing about who should pay Oliver and Bruce had settled on splitting. Though knowing Bruce Jason would bet he added on a bigger tip when Ollie’s back was turned just to spite him.

“Do you think the Aqua Family treat each other this way?” Jason says watching as Lian tosses a small box up on the still covered in plastic couch and starts tearing at the tape.

“I bet they swim across the seven seas and happily move their family’s underwater décor without complaint,” Roy says as he slips behind Jason resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Together they survey the room with the knowledge that every other room in the house looks much the same, a labyrinth of boxes. It’s gonna take them weeks to unpack all the stuff from the workshop alone.

“I know we don’t know her as well as my dad and Bruce, but do you think if we put in a call to Zatanna she’d just,” Roy says flicking his hands around Jason’s waist in a pale comparison to the intricate patterns Jason’s seen her do in battle. “Ya know, poof and we’re unpacked.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Jason sighs. Lian has fully opened the box now pulling out item after item that definitely all belong in the kitchen not on their living room couch.

Roy faux cries burying his face in Jason’s neck sadly. Jason reaches up a hand only slightly condescendingly patting at Roy’s head.

“Alright, we gotta start somewhere. Lian’s room is the priority, you and I have slept on far more uncomfortable things than a plastic wrapped couch,” he says, they’ve already got a start in there anyways thanks to Alfred the only member of their families who’s not an ingrate setting up her pink and green matching bed, bookshelf, desk and wall shelves without even being asked. Jason survey’s the room eyes falling over to the kitchen. “I’d say we shoot for finishing the kitchen tonight too, but we can always just order takeout again.”

“More pizza!” Lian squeals in delight twirling a bundle of measuring cups around and around in one hand.

“No, we’ll get something else,” Roy says and Lian’s face drops just a little. “Something with lots of vegetables, like Thai maybe.” She perks back up at that.

“As long as I don’t have to eat peas,” she grumbles trading the measuring cups out for a ladle she taps delightedly on the boxes flap.

“Fine, no peas,” Jason says slipping away from Roy and grabbing the box Lian has been playing around with as she shouts triumphantly about the lack of peas in her future. He tosses the things she’s taken out of the box back in and slides it onto the kitchen counter to deal with later.

“Go to your room and start unpacking the boxes labeled books first okay,” Roy says lifting her up from the couch her legs sticking to the plastic as he does and settling her feet on the ground. “Put some on the lower shelves, but don’t try to reach the high shelves without Jay or I’s help okay?”

Lian nods furiously skittering off clapping her hands in joy, her light up Scooby Doo shoes going wild with every step.

“Promise, Daddy!” she shouts as she hightails it up the stairs and turns the corner sharply. A light thud earns their attention as soon as she disappears from sight followed by silence.

“Lian?” Jason shouts after her already braced to rush the stairs if she doesn’t respond instantly. Roy does the same.

“I’m okay, I just kicked a box over!” she shouts back and they both breathe a sigh of relief. “And it knocked over two more!” she says with utter delight causing them both to chuckle.

“If we want to get this house done before she’s out of high school, we’re gonna need to send her for an archery range day with grandpa tomorrow,” Roy says walking over to Jason. He hops up onto the kitchen island kicking his feet out back and forth.

“And maybe an ice cream day with aunt Emiko the day after that, just in case,” Jason adds on as he settles himself between Roy’s dangling legs his back to Roy’s front. Roy wraps his arms back around him, placing his chin back where it had been in the living room.

They both gaze out across the rooms, across their home, across what it will be in a few days’ time. Jason never thought he’d call Star City home, hell he never thought he’d get out of the Narrows, but here he is a homeowner with a man he fully intends to keep for the rest of his life and a little girl he considers his daughter.

“It’s gonna look great when it’s all set up,” Roy says nuzzling his face softly to Jason’s temple. “The perfect mix of superhero chic and parents of a five-year-old who only occasionally cleans up after herself.”

“An interior designers dream,” Jason chuckles leaning back further into Roy’s arms.

“Jade’s gonna hate it,” Roy laughs.

“Oh god, I’ll fly Alfred out to help me clean just to be sure it’s spotless when the time comes. When does she get back from South America?”

“The fourteenth, she’s taking Lian for the week, remember?” Roy says pressing a quick kiss to Jason’s jaw. The fourteenth, that’s plenty of time to make it look it’s best to at least cut her sly judgements in half.

They’re quiet for a while comfortably listening to the rustling sound of Lian tearing tape off of boxes above them. She’s probably gonna be wrapped in it by the time they get up here.

“We own a house,” Jason says breaking the comfortable quiet still stunned by the fact they’ve made it here. Six years ago he walked away from Roy, the worst mistake he’s ever made, and somehow impossibly when he came crawling back Roy welcomed him with open arms and now they’re here. It feels almost too good to be true.

Roy nods and Jason can feel his smile against his neck.

“Your stuck with me now Jaybird,” he chuckles and Jason pulls Roy’s arms around him tighter, happily stuck. They bask in each other’s arms a little longer when the sound of tape gets louder and more prominent followed by a giggle and comical ‘oops’ from Lian.

“We better go help her before she mummifies herself in packing tape,” Roy chuckles slipping out from behind Jason and making his way to the stairs taking them two at a time. Jason hangs back for a moment just looking one last time at the space in front of him, looking at their home before following the sounds of tape being unwrapped from clothes and the laughter of the two most important people in his world.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 3

THREE - Little Shop Of Horrors

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Bucky vividly remembers being about 10 years old and sitting on the living room floor watching his father assemble a heavy cabinet made from dark, massive wood. It had intricate gold ornaments along the sides and around the edges and even at that young age, he knew that it must’ve been expensive.

He likes thinking back to that memory, mostly because it’s one of the few that he can still tightly hold onto and recount the exact way he’s felt then, and partly because it’s so seemingly insignificant. It’s nice to know that some of the memories he regained after having his mind wiped clean, are tiny unimportant ones. It’s not just the big moments and grand gestures that make life worth living. Sometimes it’s the little things, the small details you look back on and fondly remember with a smile on your face.

Looking at the furniture before him, Bucky can’t imagine what his mother would think of these cabinets. Everything is white or beige or grey and there’s a lot of shiny black fronts and glass doors. The place is huge, so huge they have to tape arrows on the floor so people don’t get lost, and it smells of artificial vanilla and sawdust.

It’s not like he hates the furniture here, it’s just a lot and quite honestly, he’s not sure what really matches his personal style. Hell, he hasn’t had a personal style since before he went to fight in the war.

“ Ooooh, this one is very you! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she lets herself fall onto a fluffy brown 2-seat sofa.

If it wasn’t for her, Bucky wouldn’t be here. Not only because he wants her to come around more often and actually be able to sit on a couch, but also because she was literally the one driving them both here.

“Watcha doin? “

That was the text that started it, and before he knew she had pulled up to his apartment building, arm hanging from her open car window, and yelled “Get in loser, we’re going furniture shopping! “

Bucky assumes that is another movie reference though he doesn’t dare ask her about it.

“Nope, that’s a two-seater. Too small. I want to be able to sleep on it. “

“ Or, and hear me out on this one, you could get a new bed to sleep in. “

He doesn’t have any reply to that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to sleep in his bed, it’s just — it’s too soft. It’s too comfortable. It makes it easy to fall asleep and dream. And it’s never pleasant dreams. It’s nightmares. It’s faces that haunt him. Innocent faces. Eyes filled with terror. Fear. Fear of him. It’s nightmares. It’s memories.

When he doesn’t answer, (Y/N) pulls herself back up from the sofa and wanders on “or we’ll just have to find a bigger couch, that’s fine too. “

And at that moment he’s entirely grateful that she doesn’t push him any further.

They wander around the store for a while longer, slalom in between sofas and recliners, swerve in and out of mock-up rooms, all the while (Y/N) keeps throwing puns at him incorporating the Swedish names of the furniture.

Hanging out with her kind of reminds him of the times he hung out with Steve when both of them were so much younger. Of course, it’s nothing alike. He’s not even close to the person he was then, the boy he was then. The thing is, back then everything was easy and light. Being here with her and listening to her horrible puns, that’s easy too. For right now, he doesn’t even notice the weight that’s constantly resting on his heart or the perpetual shadow that seems to rest above him. This is easy and it feels so nice.

They step into yet another room, this one painted a dark forest green. Against the wall, there’s a dark wooden cabinet holding books and a fake tv and in the middle is a corner sofa made from dark brown leather. It’s big enough to fit both him and (Y/N) and maybe even Lady if she’s okay with cuddling up a little to either of them.

“ I like that one,” Bucky says and lets himself plop down on the couch. It’s comfortable but not too soft. It’s just right. Is this what Goldilocks felt like?

(Y/N) sits down next to him, rests her feet on top of the couch table and for a second it’s just them and the black screen of the fake tv and the intercom system calling out for little Kyle to be picked up at the Småland play area.

“ Honey, “ (Y/N) speaks up after a moment, “ I think the tv is broken? “ her voice ringing through the mock-up in a thick Transatlantic accent, making her sound like the women in the movies he grew up with.

“ Huh. Ain’t that something ?”

“ Well didn’t you fix it like I told you? “

“ Guess I must’ve forgotten,” Bucky plays along, trying to suppress the smirk pulling the corner of his lips upwards.

“ Ugh, remind me again why I married you? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders casually “ my good looks? “

“ Oh, don’t flatter yourself. It’s very unbecoming. Good thing is — “ she announces as jumps up, pulling Bucky up with her and right over into the next mock-up living room. “ We have another tv.”

As Kyle’s parents are called out again, (Y/N) and Bucky tumble from one room into the next. From kitchen to bathroom to fake little balcony. All setting the stage for another chapter from their made-up marriage. Scenes from a movie never made, a book never written. A beautiful kaleidoscope of could-be and never-was. A nice fantasy to get lost in.

If this was a rom-com, (Y/N) thinks, this would be the falling in love montage. Some killer indie track would play in the background and it would be featured in at least one Buzzfeed article about romantic gestures.

But it’s not a movie, it’s real life and she isn’t the romantic lead and Bucky is — well he would make a great leading man now that she thinks about it.

They make their way back to the green living room with the brown couch and the ‘broken’ tv and fall back against the leather, laughter shaking their bodies, tears of joy stinging at the corners of their eyes. As she catches her breath, (Y/N) taps Bucky softly on the right shoulder and drops her voice to a whisper.

“Honey,” she says “I don’t know how to tell you this but uh — there’s a family on our balcony.”

Bucky’s eyes follow her outstretched hand and sure enough on the adjacent fake balcony is a family of 4 staring back at them. And just like that, they fall back into a beautiful harmony of laughter.

“So explain to me again what this movie is about?” Bucky asks as (Y/N) takes another sip from her coke can.

“Dude buys a plant, it starts eating people.”

“And this is gonna show me what women want these days?”

A joyful chuckle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. “I mean … there is a love story and a moral about how far you’re willing to go for the people you love even if it might be morally questionable, but maybe — maybe we should consider this one the Halloween special.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulder as if to say “okay fine with me” and leans back against the car seat. The massive screen of the drive-in is currently playing some kind of ice cream commercial that has (Y/N) softly humming along to the jingle.

This trip wasn’t planned, in fact, they’d been on their way back home when a billboard at the side of the road caught (Y/N)’s attention and put a huge grin on her face, so wide it could’ve split her face in two.

That’s how he ended up parked neatly in a row of cars, Coca-Cola in hand, popcorn resting in between him and (Y/N) waiting for the commercials to end and the movie to begin.

“You’re gonna love this one,” she’s told him beforehand. He’s a little skeptical about it but he’s not gonna tell her. Bucky is just so appreciative of the fact that she bothers trying to introduce him to these things. They might not end up being for him but it’s a good feeling to have someone care this much. Someone who hasn’t been with him through all the shit. Someone who doesn’t feel responsible because they pity him. Someone who doesn’t owe it to Steve to look after Bucky…

“So … I still have some homework to do.” He chimes in thinking back to their conversation on his living room floor.

“Homework that involves me?”

“Mmh. Doc thinks I should learn some more things about you. Apparently, it’s not enough to know that you’re crazy about movies and talk a lot.”

“I do talk a lot.” (Y/N) agrees and pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you. What you want to know?”

“Anything.”

Since coming back from oblivion, Bucky hasn’t really made an effort to get to know anyone. Growing closer to people only means there’s more for you to lose. More people you can potentially hurt. He doesn’t usually learn new things about people because he doesn’t ask. Because he doesn’t want to know. It’s a lonely life but it’s safe. It’s comfortable.

But this is different. He’s in too deep now to stop. And yeah, maybe this is his homework. Maybe he asks because his therapist told him too but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He wants to know about (Y/N). Even the little things. The insignificant details.

“Well as I said before, I’ve studied literature and creative writing. I want to be an author. That’s uh — that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. The thing is it’s very hard to actually get people to give your writing a chance. Especially now. The world is in such a weird limbo after everyone came back. There’s no room for my art right now. So I work as a waitress to make ends meet. “

“What would you write about?” Bucky asks and in her eyes, in the surprise that’s so clearly written on her face, he can see that people don’t ask her that all too often.

“I don’t know, life? “

“Love stories?”

She lets out a mix between a scoff and a snort “what do I know about romance? I can tell you all about the love the movies and the songs and the books want to sell us, and don’t get me wrong, I love that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced true and honest romantic love. So how could I ever write about it ?”

For a moment silence falls upon them. It’s neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. Sometimes that’s enough.

“Look, I might not know a lot about love either, but I do know that dreams are worth holding on to, no matter how out of reach they seem. If it’s something you believe in and that you’re passionate about, it’s worth fighting for it.”

“Huh, didn’t put you for such a motivational speaker. Where’ve you got that from”

“Didn’t think the skinny boy from Brooklyn was ever gonna save a whole bunch of lives and fight in a war. Steve was the walking proof that you can do anything. “

“You miss him, huh?”

People don’t usually ask about Steve. They either don’t care how Bucky feels about the whole situation or they know it’s a tough topic and avoid it altogether. The worst part is he doesn’t even know how to respond. Yes of course he misses Steve, more than anything really, but there’s also a little bit of resentment swinging along. With Steve here by his side, it always felt like there was someone there who understood exactly what Bucky was going through. Someone who also had to figure out how to navigate this new life. But now with Steve gone, he feels so utterly alone.

“Every day.”

“Look I’m not going to ask what happened because quite honestly I’m still trying to grasp the fact that there are aliens and superheroes and wizards — “

“Wizards are not a thing.”

“You sure?”

Bucky lets out a slightly annoyed sigh “Yup. 100%”

“What’s the Strange guy?”

“Sorcerer.”

“That’s not the same?”

“No.”

(Y/N) considers for a moment, eyes screwed up in uncertainty before she shrugs her shoulder “ alright if you say so. Anyway, my point is, I don’t know if you have that many people to talk to and I don’t know if you even want to talk about Steve but if you do … well you can talk to me. I know I talk a lot but I’m also a really good listener. “

There’s no doubt in his mind that she is. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk about Steve yet though. Not when his heart is still at war whether or not to be angry. Not when he’s still so uncertain about his own complicated emotions.

“Thanks, I uh — I appreciate it.”

Loud music starts to play and (Y/N)’s head snaps towards the screen just in time for the title card to pop up in big colorful letters as three women shimmy across the street and start singing.

Bucky can’t help but let his gaze travel back towards (Y/N) every once in a while. There’s something about her he can’t quite figure out, but the way her eyes light up as she watches the movie and the smile on her face, it gives him a warm feeling. Like bad things don’t exist for the 90 minutes they sit together and watch a film.

“Sooooo?” (Y/N) asks as she parks the car in front of Bucky’s place. Her eyes still hold a sparkle that’s both mischievous and excited.

“I actually liked this one a little.”

“A little?”

“Look it’s not gonna be my favorite movie but I had fun. But uh — maybe that’s just because I’ve watched it with you.”

(Y/N) grants him a beautiful smile. It’s full of warmth and care and honesty. And he’s glad he told her, even if it makes him vulnerable.

“You telling me I’m a good friend?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, you’re a good friend too, Bucky.”

He hopes she’s right though he has a hard time believing it. He’s never seen himself as the greatest friend. Everything he did for Steve he did because he knew Steve would do the same. It came so naturally from both of them that it never felt like he was doing anything special or exceptional. It was as easy as breathing.

“Do you wanna come up? We could order some food.”

“Oh, I can’t. Gotta pick up Lady from Robin’s place. But as soon as your couch is delivered count me in as the first sleepover guest. “

“Will do. Hey, you think I should name the plant we bought (Y/N) 2?”

“Depends, you wanna feed the neighborhood Dentist to it”

“Maybe.”

They fall into another fit of laughter and even though it’s not that funny, and even though it’s really dumb and silly actually, Bucky enjoys it so much. He can’t remember a day when he laughed this much, felt this light.

“Oh, by the way, I’m throwing a pre-Halloween-party next weekend. If you’re free you should totally drop by.”

“I um — A friend is coming around that weekend.”

“Then bring your friend! The more the merrier, right ?”

Sam is gonna be down, there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind about it. Sam isn't the problem, he never is. It’s Bucky. Going to a party is terrifying for someone who’s never known anything but the 1940s. This can only end up in disasters.

And yet …

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

“Cool. Awesome. Just uh — Just text me when you know. Also, there’s no special theme so you can dress up as whatever.”

“I’m not dressing up.”

(Y/N) blows a raspberry against her arm “lame! But whatever, you do you.”

He guesses that means as much as “suit yourself”.

They bid each other goodbye with a hug and a promise from (Y/N) to Bucky to text him once she’s home just so he knows she’s safe.

To her, that’s a gesture so sweet and endearing it sends a jolt through her heart. To him, it’s as natural as breathing. You do what you can to keep those safe that you care about, even if it’s just a simple little text.

“You dressed up!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Man, You’re wearing a costume. I’m looking at you right now. I can see it. You dressed up.”

“These are just my clothes.”

“These are just your clothes? Your normal clothes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wearing Converse now?”

“ mmh.”

“Your Jeans are cuffed, man. I’ve never seen you cuff your jeans.”

“It’s something I do now.”

Bucky isn’t a very religious person. He doesn’t pray very often. At that moment though, he prays to god and every higher spirit one might choose to believe in, to open up the earth and let it swallow him whole.

“Look,” Sam says and gives Bucks a friendly pat on the back “you don’t gotta be embarrassed by it. I dressed up!”

“Yeah, what even are you, by the way? An exterminator?”

“I — what? No! I’m a ghostbuster.”

“Okay. Whatever that is.”

“Whatev— Bucky, Man you really gotta go with the times a little. I know you’re practically ancient but the Ghostbusters? Catch up!”

“Whatever. I'm not dressing up. Can we go?” Bucky sighs in exasperation, making Sam’s grin grow even bigger. Bucky knows that he’s just playing into his game, that Sam loves riling him up. That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to not let it get to him.

“Alright alright. Hold your horses. I’m ready. Let’s go … Danny Zuko.”

Bucky wants to punch him then but Sam is out the door faster than Bucky can even react, his loud laughter sounding through the hallway.

There are people everywhere. Sitting on the kitchen counter, lounging on the couches, leaning against the wall by the open windows. Everywhere. The apartment is small and with so many people inside, it looks absolutely packed. Like sardines in a tin.

Music echos through the place, a song Bucky faintly recognizes from the radio but can’t name. Sam seems to enjoy it though, his body already swaying along to the tune.

“Hey Buck, where’s your girl?” He asks as both of them let their eyes travel across the room and over the crowd.

“She’s not my girl and I don’t —“

In the middle of the room is a fish tank. It separates the living room area from the dining room and kitchen. Blue and green hues radiate from it as colorful fish circle around and swerve in and out of the plants.

But Bucky hardly noticedsthe fish, as his eyes fall onto the girl at the other side of the tank. The water sends a blue shimmer across her skin but her smile doesn’t lose any of the warmth it always holds. She looks beautiful. She always does but there’s something about her tonight that’s different from all the times he’s seen her before. Something ethereal.

At that moment, Bucky feels a fluttery feeling in his heart, in his bones, in his blood. He knows this feeling, has felt it before, a long time ago. Maybe, he thinks, maybe there could be more than friendship there.

And that thought absolutely terrifies him. Because falling for someone makes you foolish and dumb and vulnerable. And that’s awfully scary.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi //

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #winter soldier x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier imagine #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james barnes x female reader #he has too many names this must be enough

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doodling-doodle · 1 year

Text

The Lighthouse (CH.1)

Years of dating and raising a baby boy.

Price had decided to throw in the towel and retire. He trusted Kate and Soap to take over.

Now, John would admit, he and Phil were probably overprotective of Kyle, but, how they found him was… horrible.

And he remembered it every time he looked at him.

—

Price woke up, hearing Phil over in the kitchen to make them breakfast, and he smiled, getting up to see him.

He had just finished up, and he smiled, "Morning, John."

"Morning, my dear." He plated his food, and they sat down, but Phil saw something outside

"Get it after breakfast." John said, "it's probably just the post."

Phil nodded, sitting down and eating while they spoke about their plans for the day. John had taken him off the crew for now, since he was injured, but he was getting better and likely would be able to go back.

John went outside to check the porch, and-

He froze when he heard a little whimper, and he looked down.

To see a little basket, with a little baby inside, and a note.

"I'm sorry. Please take care of him. I can't anymore. His name is Kyle. He's a magic user."

And he immediately felt attached to him.

He picked the child up, and looked into his eyes.

He felt a small cold patch on his shirt, and saw that he had turned it to ice.

He sighed, yelling for Phil, who looked shocked.

"Oh my God!" He yelled, going up to him.

"Phil, please, watch him, I'm going to the village to get supplies." John said, and Phil nodded

"I'll be back."

Phil sat on the couch, calming down and putting the child to sleep.

"You'll be alright... your safe now, little one." He whispered, wrapping him in a blanket, “You might be a little warm. But, I’ll make you a blanket, just for you, Okay?”

He knew he had too. This child was now theirs. He would never go back to the crew. He knew what he had to do.

John finally came back with baby formula and clothes, and gently took him from Phil, giving him a break from holding him to feed him.

“The note said he was only five months old.” John said as he started feeding him, “His name is Kyle. A magic user.”

“Where are the Sigils?”

He briefly checked, unwrapping the blanket, seeing two small Sigils. Ice and Teleknises.

“I’m disbanding the crew for a while.” John said, “he needs to be taken care of.”

“John, I have it-”

“It’s not fair to you. We are going to raise him together.”

So they did.

Kyle was eighteen now. He was still young, but he had grown up. He was their baby boy. He always would be.

“Morning, little one.” John said as he got to the kitchen, seeing Kyle at the counter, turning a small glass of water to ice.

“Hey, dad.”

“You hungry?”

Kyle nodded softly, and John smiled, “What would you like?” he asked, moving in front of him.

“Pancakes?” Kyle said, looking up from the glass.

John nodded, “Of course.” He looked down, “I don’t understand why you do this. It just drains your energy.”

Kyle shrugged, pushing his braided hair behind his shoulder, “its calming and entertaining.”

“Its draining.”

“Not on such a small thing. If I were to freeze the sea, it would be.”

John chuckled softly, “Oh, Kyle, what am I gonna do with you, mate?”

“Probably be a little confused because I’m not big on sailing and fishing.”

“Nope, we all love your paintings and how creative you are. Such a smart boy, you are.”

He smiled slightly, pulling his hand away from the glass.

“Your a precious little thing.” John said, giving him a plate of pancakes, gently cradling his face.

“I agree.” Phil said as he walked in, kissing Kyle’s forehead, “perfect little boy.”

Kyle smiled a little, “You remind me every day.” He said as he started eating.

“Becuase its true.” John said, smiling down at him.

Kyle smiled, “Thank you.” He whispered.

Once he finished eating, he went back to his room to get his drawing stuff and head out to sketch the ocean.

“Be back for lunch!” John called out before Kyle left.

“I will be!” He ran out the door, out to his favorite spot to draw.

“John?”

“Hm?”

“Do you… think he’s alright? With just us, soap, Kate and Ava? He only goes to the village to draw… don’t you think he’s lonely?”

He paused, sighing. “I’m… not sure. I feel like he would bring it up to us. Or it would be clear that he was… upset.”

“I just… I don’t know, he’s eighteen now. I feel like he just… needs people around him.”

John nodded, “well… we can ask if he feels lonely. And if he does, then… we can try to get him out more.”

Phil nodded, sitting at the counter, “How’s the crew doing?”

He smiled, sitting with him, “It’s good. I’m going to finally retire, leave Kate and Soap in charge.”

Phil lit up, “Really?”

“It’s time. And I want to be around you and Kyle more.”

Phil smiled, leaning on him, “I’m glad. I’d love to have you around more.”

Eventually, John started to make lunch, and Phil went out to collect their son.

"Kyle! Where are you?" he called out, walking through the field.

"Coming!" He heard from down the hill, where the dock to the ocean was.

He smirked, but then got a little confused. Why was he down there?

Then he saw the tree that Kyle normally sat on, a branch had snapped.

He panicked, running a hand through his hair before looking to the hill, about to head down when he saw Kyle coming up.

"Kyle! There you are!" He yelled, running up to him, "the tree- did you fall? You're soaked- are you hurt?"

He shook his head, "I fell... I'm okay..."

"Come, let's get you home, changed and warm." He said, gently pulling Kyle along, "Did you hit your head?"

"I'm okay, pops, really."

He sighed, kissing Kyle's forehead, "Okay. Dad's still going to check you out, though, okay?"

"I'm not a child... I'm 18."

"You'll always be our little baby boy." he smiled, “Come on, let’s get home.”

He noticed how Kyle kept looking out to the ocean, but he was just focused on getting him home.

“John!”

He looked over, and panicked, running up to him.

“What happened, son?”

“The tree snapped… I fell.”

“Go get changed, I’ll get a fire going.”

He nodded, going off to his room. He was walking good, he didn’t look hurt, but they were still worried.

Kyle came back out, sitting on the couch in front of the fire, eating the food that John made.

“Are you okay, little one?” John asked.

“I’m fine. Shaken, is all.”

He wasn’t bleeding, at least.

“And your magic?”

He looked at the side table, making a small glass of water float, bringing it towards himself to freeze it, which he did.

“Okay… that’s good.” He gently kissed Kyle’s temple, taking his braid out, “eat and rest, okay?”

Kyle nodded, looking down at his half empty plate, eating what he had left before putting it off to the side and laying down on the couch.

Phil sighed, laying a blanket over him, “There’s a storm on the way.” He said to John.

He nodded, “Let’s get to the village. We need to get supplies.”

They had to prepare for that storm. And they needed to do it quick. Warn the village. Make sure Kyle was safe.

They had a little time.

---

@lvndr-swtr

(do y'all want an actual tag list for all the AUs?)

#call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #john price #phillip graves #johnny soap mactavish #ava laswell #kate laswell #price x graves #laswell x ava #The Lighthouse au

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hockeyboysimagines · 3 years

Text

Guess I always knew

Prequel to Say it to me Softly.

Pairing:Nolan Patrick x Sawyer Grey(OC fem)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, parties, alcohol, sexual situations, fluff, angst, harassment, fighting.

Hi all! This is really long, but it had to be done! Just some fun Nolan and Sawyer moments through the years until he asks her to move with him. Hopefully it can give you some background on them and you enjoy it!

-💕

Toast popped up just as Delaney wrapped the hair tie around the bottom of Sawyers braid

“Viola.” She said smiling and pulling it tight. Sawyer smiled at her sister as her mother pulled the toast up and put butter on it. It was a warm early summer morning and a cool breeze was drifting through the open screen door in the kitchen. The radio was on, Sawyer’s mother, Anna humming along with the radio as she moved about the kitchen making breakfast. Mason was in his high chair eating cereal, and she could hear Liv making her way downstairs. Kellan was seated at the island reading the sports section of the paper.

“ Alright.” Delaney said, finishing her orange juice and placing her plate and cup in the dishwasher “I’m out.”

“Where you off to today?” He mom asked as she stirred pancake batter, bowl perched on her hip.

“Heading to the lake with some friends, shouldn’t be home too late.”

Her mom smiled, as Delaney dropped a kiss in Mason’s head and slugged kellan in the side. She waved to the girls and her mom.

“Del?” She turned hoisting her bag over her shoulder, hand braced on the door frame.

“Be careful. “

She smiled “Always am mom.” She breezed out the door, the sound of her flip flops on the gravel growing faint until she reached her car and pulled out of the driveway.

“How bout you?” Her mom said turning to Kellan. He stood drinking the last of his coffee, and stretched setting the paper down.

“I’m heading out to pick up some bait, then I’m gonna meet dad out at the mill and we’re gonna go fishing and then we’ll be home with dinner.” She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, accepting a kiss on the cheek as he walked to put his boots on.

“And you?” Sawyer smiled and before she could say anything she heard her name being called from the driveway.

“Why do I even ask?” He mother chuckled and opened the window.

“Good morning Nolan honey! Are you hungry?”

“Good morning Mrs.Grey! No thanks my mom wouldn’t let me leave without eating. She said she has flowers to drop off for you later today!” Sawyer shoved her feet in her sneakers and put her plate and cup in the dishwasher before giving her mom a quick hug and waving to her siblings.

Nolan was sitting on his bike at the bottom of the driveway, backpack strapped on his shoulders. Sawyer heaved her own bike up, throwing a leg over it and hoisting herself up on the seat.

“So what do you want to do today?” Nolan asked as they began pedaling down the gravel road.

Summer had just started, and they had 3 whole months of free time with no school, no teachers and no responsibility.

“ I don’t know. It’s not warm enough to go swimming.”

He shook his head as they continued down the road waving to various neighbors and classmates. The sun was out now, high in the sky beating down and burning their shoulders. They ended up pedaling out of the neighborhood and dropped their bikes at the end of a hill and hiked to the top. They could see almost the whole town from there. Nolan was stretched out laying on his back eyes closed. Even at 12 Nolan was all legs and arms, hair shaggy that he refused cut. His mom had given up chasing him around with scissors and threatening bodily harm if he didn’t keep it short.

“I’m so glad schools over.”

“Yeah me too. No more homework, no more class, no more hockey.”

“You love hockey.”

“ Well yeah I do but I like a good break now and again you know.”

They sat for a while talking about the important stuff all 12 year olds talk about until it got too hot. They trekked back down the hill and decided to go to Nolan’s. The sun was shining and the air was warm and what should have been the start of a fun filled summer was the day their lives were about to change. Nolan’s mom had come frantically running from the front door when she saw them coming up the front walk and ushered them both into the car.

Delaney Grey was gone, her car abandoned, and no one knew where she was. Sawyer watched the following days destroy her parents, and turn her world upside down. The discovery of her car and her body later on would change the course of Sawyers entire life. She would forever be known as the girl who’s sister was murdered. Nolan was more important to her than ever. His mom took her in, keeping her shielded and protected from things she didn’t need to see, and stepped in when her mom couldn’t.

Time passed, the wounds healed but her parents were never the same and never okay. A lot of it passed so quickly she woke some days and didn’t remember. But the time they turned 15 rumors and stares mostly died down, until the anniversary. It would always be a part of her, and something that would always affect her. But she had Nolan. So she would fine.

******

“Gosh it’s so hot.” Jessi was sitting on a lawn chair in Sawyers backyard, sunglasses perched on her nose. Jessie had become an unexpected and close friend over the school year. They had met in English class, and paired together in a project. Jessie had a purple streak in her long dark hair, and a nose ring but she was funny and the only person who she could spend long amounts of time with besides Nolan. He even liked her, and the two of them got along well. The girls had been laying out in their bathing suits for almost 45 minutes and the most color they had gotten was sunburn. Sawyer closed her eyes and tipped her head back. It was rare to have peaceful moments like this so she was going to cherish it.

“Speaking of hot-“Jessi lowered her glasses and nudged her chin forward. Nolan and Chase, along with some other guys she didn’t know had just pulled into her driveway.

“Are you sure you never hit that?” Jessi was talking about Nolan, as always. She didn’t understand how ‘two people so attractive could exist as just friends without sex’.

“No Jess, I have not.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna now? I mean damn.”

“If you think he’s so hot why don’t you-“

“He’s way out of my league babe. I wouldn’t even try it. But you should.”

Nolan had immediately tried to get them to leave her driveway the minute they pulled up and he saw she was wearing a bikini.

“Oh hell no.” Chase said practically jumping out of the car. “Sorry Pat. You said I couldn’t touch, but you said nothing about looking.”

Nolan mumbled something and followed his friends into her backyard, already regretting not calling. Why couldn’t she be wearing clothing?

*******

Sawyer closed her locker, balancing her books in one arm as she clicked the lock shut. It was raining but it was Friday and school was halfway over. As she turned she bumped into a chest. She looked up, about to scold Nolan for sneaking up on her when she was greeted by Kyle Welch. Kyle was the captain of the football team and a pretty well known colossal dick, but all the same he was popular and someone she had never even spoken to. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead and she took a step back.

Hi. Your Sawyer right?”

“I-Uh yeah?”

“Your in my English class right? We should study sometime.” He was smiling at her, all teeth like a fucking dragon. He was looking at her with the strangest of looks, one that made her very very uncomfortable. Like she was a piece of meat, a toy for him to play with.

“Uhm. Sure. I guess.”

He gave her another smile and a nod before walking down the hallway and disappearing.

She shook her head, still confused but began her walk to the cafeteria. She found Nolan and the rest of her friends seated at the usual table. She sat between Nolan and Chase, across from Jessie, still bothered by the exchange at her locker.

“Your never going to believe who asked me to study today.” She said as she bit into an apple slice from her spot between them.

“Who?” Chase asked turning to her, mouth full of sandwich.

“Kyle Welch.”

Nolan’s bottle of water banged loudly off the table as he dropped it and his head whipped towards her.

“He what?”

She nodded and as she went to speak Kyle himself passed by their table sending her a smile. Nolan was glaring at him so severely, if looks could kill Kyle would be dead and the football team would be out a captain.

“No fucking way are you helping that guy study.” Nolan said, face set in stone.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to second this one.” Chase said from her other side.

“I wasn’t going to anyways, I think he just did it to be a dick.” She could feel heat and tension radiating off of Nolan, though she wasn’t sure why. As far as she knew they had never had any interaction, and ran in separate circles. But he was still glaring at him all the same.

“I heard some pretty messed up shit about that guy.” Chase said, eyeing Kyle from across the room.

“Like what?” Jessie asked. She was staring at Nolan who was still visibly angry, eyebrows furrowed. She glanced at Sawyer, who shrugged and turned her attention to Chase.

“ I mean it’s just a rumor but someone said that spiked some girls drink at Jenny Miller’s party last year. And I guess she isn’t the only one. Apparently he’s done it before. Like I said, just what I heard but still alarming eh?”

“Just stay clear of him.” Nolan snapped. He was quiet for the rest of lunch till the bell rang. He gave her a long look as he stood, and then turned abruptly and left the cafeteria without another word.

“What’s his deal?” Jessi asked, making Chase roll his eyes.

“You know Nolan. Come on.” He said nudging Sawyer “We’re gonna be late.”

She had always tried to keep her distance from Kyle and his group of friends in general. Nolan had an issue with him that she never truly understood but because it was Nolan she trusted it was for a good reason. She was following behind Chase on the way to history, but as he rounded the corner Kyle reappeared in front of her separating them. Chase kept walking unaware that she was no longer behind him.

“Oh hi.” She said taking a step away from him. The hallway was mostly empty and he was way too close to her.

“So about studying. How about later?”

“Oh I Uhm. I don’t know.”

“Come on. My parents are gone for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.” He reached forward, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She froze. Nolan had a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear, but it felt all wrong when Kyle did it, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I can drive you to my house. It’ll be fun.”

“I usually drive home with-“

“Me.” She jumped and turned to find Nolan coming up behind her. He was glowering at Kyle over her shoulder, who looked at him unfazed.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah I am. Let’s go.” He steered her away by the waist, and down the hall away from him.

“What the fuck was that about?” He stopped suddenly and spun to face her.

“He wanted me to come home with him after school. I said no.”

He rubbed his forehead eyes closed “Go to History. And wait for me after school. “

He left, storming down the hall leaving her standing in front of her classroom. After class she said goodbye to Chase and stuffed her books into her locker before walking out the back entrance of school. The rain had stopped but it was damp and chilly as she walked, avoiding puddles on the sidewalk. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, and as she turned the corner to the back of the building she stopped.

Kyle and a few of on his football buddies were hanging around, and turned to face her. Kyle smiled slowly, and gave her a once over, making her feel like she needed a shower. She felt trapped for a moment when she realized she was alone, the closest person being way ahead of her in the parking lot.

“Hey. Decided to take me up in my offer eh?” She was still glued to the spot.

“I was actually heading to meet Nolan. Excuse me.” She tried to brush past him but he grabbed her arm.

“Hey where you going?” He pulled her closer, fingers gripping her skin painfully. The other guys had wandered over, circling around laughing. She broke from his grasp only to have him catch both of her wrists and pull him to her.

“You should be thankful I’m even giving you the time of day.” He said coolly “Now how about you come get in my car and we’ll go to my house and you can get on your-“

“What is this?” Nolan had turned to corner with Rhett and Chase. Kyle released her and held his hands up. She bolted to Nolan, falling into his arms holding back tears. Had he not turned the corner she had no idea what would have happened. Kyle and his friends turned to leave, and he yelled over his shoulder.

“Have fun slumming Patrick.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Whoa buddy. Calm down.” Chase said peering around him to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just really wanna go home.” She swiped at a tear, as more came rolling down her cheeks, she heaved in a ragged breath. He had scared her, and made her feel small. She wondered if this was how her sister felt when she knew she was in trouble that day. Small and scared. And alone. Nolan ducked his head down to look at her.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay let’s just go.” She walked with them to the car, several student noticing her red eyes and tears. She got in quickly, while Nolan said goodbye to the guys. The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. She felt disgusting, and every time she closed her eyes she could feel his breath on her face and his hands on her skin. Nolan was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white face unreadable. When he pulled up to her house, he parked and sighed. No one was home, and though normally he would drop her off, he got out.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She nodded and he followed her up the front steps and in the front door. She was still crying as she dropped her backpack by the door.

“Sawyer.” He said softly. She turned, head bowed and he very gently wrapped her in a hug, sobs wracking her body. They stayed like that for a while, till she was all cried out.

******

Nolan had completely forgotten that he promised Bo he would do an “interview” the best day. While he was annoyed, he was also relieved. They had been friends for a long time, and Bo took his mind off getting in his car and driving to Kyle’s house to murder him. Sawyer was going to come over afterwards. She was still upset, but was doing her best to mask it. He felt guilty for letting her walk out of school alone that day, when he would typically meet her by the entrance.

After the whole thing was over and Bo ended the interview, miffed that Nolan had answered the phone before he was done speaking, Nolan hung up and turned back to Bo who was smiling mischievously.

“ So?”

“What?”

Bo rolled his eyes “We all know who your best friend is Pat and we both know it’s neither one of those guys.”

Nolan rolled his eyes and scowled “ Leave her out of this.”

“I would but she’s just so hot-“

Before Bo could say anything else Nolan had pulled the back of his shirt over his head and had him in a tight neck lock. The other guys laughed immediately trying to turn the camera back on.

“Alright Jesus let go Pat! I was joking!”

He released him and pointed a finger threateningly at him as Bo straightened his shirt and started giggling.

“I’m serious-“

“I know Pat I would never do that. I thought you knew me better than that.”

That was Nolan’s worst fear. Most of his friends knew better than to even think about asking Sawyer out but it didn’t stop them from looking and making comments. The speculation that surrounded them had grown huge by the time they were in high school, and while it was exhausting to have to answer the same questions over and over again Nolan found that he didn’t really mind that people thought there was some attachment between them. It kept guys away from her and while he knew it was selfish he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t think anyone was good enough for her. He had purposely said someone else’s name when Bo asked so that they would leave him alone about her and it had backfired anyways.

It was frustrating for Nolan to know that given the opportunity all his friends would make some type of move on her, and he would break both his legs before that happened. He tried to keep a barrier between her and them but most of the time it didn’t work. She was just so damn friendly and approachable, her big smile pulled people in like a magnet.

“ I thought she’d be around, where is she anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Bo held his hands up, and as if on cue Sawyers car pulled into his driveway. Nolan had tried to hurry the process of the ‘interview’ hoping they would be gone before she got there but Bo had spent so much time goofing around they were behind schedule.

Great.

She stepped out, closed the door and made her way to Nolan’s back yard. Her hair was curly today, falling down her back to her waist. She had on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt. Even completely covered the other guys had already given her a thorough once over and continued to stare as she came to stand next to him. Nolan gave Bo one last glare

“Hi.” Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. For whatever the reason Nolan got slightly possessive over her in situations like this, which didn’t make sense because he wasn’t her boyfriend. But the arm that he wrapped around her shoulders stayed there, keeping her pulled flush to his side.

“Hi Bo.” She smiled at him, practically making the other guys flood Nolan’s yard with drool.

“Hey. Your boy here just hit me with a plastic ball right in the junk.”

“Well you probably deserved it.”

Nolan laughed and bid Bo and the others goodbye, as they filed out of his yard, and Sawyer followed him up the steps to his room and threw herself down on his bed. He pulled open a drawer and pulled his shirt off to put on a new one. Sawyer turned and felt a blush creep up her neck while he changed. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times but he had obviously been spending extra time in the gym and his long lanky frame was beginning to change.

What the hell am I saying? She shook her head and turned her attention to the tv instead, trying to ignore shirtless Nolan on the other side of the room. He pulled another shirt over his head and came to sit next to her.

“Tired?” He asked. She was curled in a ball, head on his pillow. She nodded and closed her eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after you know-.”

He nodded “I’m still mad about it. But that’s never gonna happen again.”

He laid down next to her, settling in and flipped the tv on and she inches closer resting her head on his shoulder. She had an angry purple bruise on her wrist, another on her upper arm. He was pissed just looking at it. It was a reminder that he hadn’t been there to protect her.

Her eyes had slid closed. He was so warm and inviting and she felt safe and relaxed for the first time in 24 hours, as she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. He felt her body grow heavy, and her breathing even out and grow slow. They were alone in his house, his parents and sisters were gone and would be for several hours. He reached a hand up and ran it tentatively through her hair. He always had his hands in her hair. It was thick and soft and caught the light just right when she moved. She stirred slightly, and wrapped an arm around his midsection, sighing. Her eyes opened and she tipped her head back to look up at him.

Nolan suddenly felt an extreme urge to kiss her. His eyes moved to her mouth, which was less than 6 inches from his own, and then back up to her eyes again. They stayed that way for a few moments before Nolan leaned forward slightly hand coming up to her face. Her heart rate increased as his nose brushed against hers. Their lips had just touched when the sound of a slamming door from downstairs made them jump apart and Sawyer moved clear across the bed away from him before standing up quickly. Nolan was alarmed at what had almost just happened and was rooted to the spot. She was backed up against the wall like a animal cornered in a cage, eyes large.

“Sawyer I-“

She hurried from the room, the sound of her feet carrying down the stairs, out his front door and into her car. He threw himself backwards and sighed.

Fuck.

******

Sawyer was standing with Jessie drink in hand when Bo came up behind her and bumped her shoulder.

“Your boy is here.” He motioned behind him with his head, and Sawyer rolled her eyes.

“He’s not my boy.” She looked over Bo’s shoulder and felt a twinge of annoyance. Nolan was standing with Rhett and Chase surrounded by a group of girls all giggling and twirling their hair around their fingers, giving them their best doe eyes. One girl in particular had Nolan’s attention, as he leaned against the wall hands in his pockets smiling as she spoke to him. The twinge of annoyance became anger. What the hell was he doing? He had nearly kissed her earlier that afternoon and now he was flirting with someone else?

“Kaylee Smith eh?” Jessie shook her head and took a sip out of her solo cup “Is anyone gonna tell him it’s supposedly like a cave down there?”

Bo stifled a laugh and looked at Sawyer. She was gripping her cup, other arm folded across her midsection.

“Well isn’t that just fucking cozy.”

She downed the rest of her drink and pushed through the crowd to get another one. Bo and Jessie watched her go before turning back to each other.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

“Maybe I should go warn Pat.”

Bo turned and weaved through the crowd of people, and gave Nolan a punch when he reached him. He turned pausing his conversation with Kaylee, and gave Bo a small smile.

“What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?…. Alone?” Kaylee reached forward and gave Nolan’s hand a small squeeze before she turned to walk away.

“I’ll talk to you later.” She gave him a smile over the shoulder which he returned, and turned to leave with her friends.

“Are you a moron?” Bo asked arms folded. Nolan frowned, and Rhett and Chase both let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“Your about to cause a serious cat fight my guy.”

“Cat fight? I’m down for a cat fight.” Chase was snickering over the top of his solo cup, as he surveyed the girls in the living room.

“Who?” Nolan was confused. He had been talking to Kaylee since he had arrived and she was definitely flirting with him. He didn’t really have any interest in her, but he also didn’t have a girlfriend so he let her continue. And then it hit him. Sawyer had to be around here somewhere and no doubt it looked from the outside that he was going to take Kaylee home.

“Where is she?” Bo was frowning at him, and shook his head.

“What is up with you two? Your friends but I don’t think your really just friends-“

“Please dude we’ve had this conversation with him a million times and he refuses to budge.”

“Where is she?” Nolan repeated more forcefully this time. After what had happened earlier he had to at least explain himself. He couldn’t see her but he did see Jessie making her way through the crowd. He pushed in between them and caught her by the elbow.

“Nolan hi.” She knew what he wanted, but Sawyer had asked her to cover so she was going to.

“Where is she Jessie?”

“I don’t know honestly. I lost her a little bit ago. Check the bathroom maybe?”

Jessie’s face was solid as steel. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.

Sawyer in the mean time was in the kitchen pouring alcohol into a cup when she felt a presence behind her. Kaylee smith was leaning against the counter behind her, arms crossed. She had never spoken a word to her before so she wasn’t sure why she was in her space now.

“Sorry do you need something?” She wasn’t usually this snippy but she was already annoyed and the source of her annoyance was way too close for her liking.

“What’s with you and Nolan?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going home with him, and I just want to make sure you aren’t together.”

Sawyer giggled into her cup, before sipping off the top of it and shook her head as it burned all the way down her throat. “Your awfully sure of yourself huh?”

She pursed her lips in a tight smile, head turning to the side “Honey, I always get what I want. So you can find your own way home tonight. Kay?” She gave a wide nasty smile and Sawyer saw red.

“You really think he’s taking you home? Then you don’t really know Nolan at all. And don’t ever think he’ll take you home over me. Ever.”

At that moment Nolan himself entered the kitchen looking relieved to find her and then awkward when he realized she wasn’t alone. Kaylee smiled at him but he brushed past her and stood between them.

“Can I talk to you.” He gently grabbed Sawyers elbow and pulled her out of the kitchen. She sent a small smile at Kaylee over her shoulder as he steered her away, and left her standing in the kitchen mouth open. Once out of sight she pulled her arm from his grip and nearly stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not enough.” She took another sip of her drink and ran her fingers through her hair before she turned on him.

“You and Kaylee smith huh?” She was squinting at him, cheeks red, hand on her hip. She looked angry, but Nolan wasn’t sure why because he hadn’t done anything.

“What? No.”

“Oh please.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, and stumbled back from the force of it “I saw her all googledneyes-gogole eyeed” Nolan was almost tempted to laugh as she stumbled over her words eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to say what she was trying to.

“Okay. I think it’s time to take you home.”

“She said you were taking her home.”

“God no. I’m taking you home. Now let’s go.”

He said goodbye to his friends and put her in the car. Her house was dark which meant no one was home. He had a hell of a time getting her out and up the stairs. He had just gotten her in the door when he felt her start to shake. At first he thought she was going to puke and immediately held her out at arms length, and rubbed against the wall near the light switch trying to turn it on with no hands. But when she let out a whimper he realized she wasn’t about to get sick.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She choked out, bracing a hand on his arm as she almost fell in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna take you away.”

“What? Who?”

“Kaylee what’s her name? Girlfriends never let guys have girl beat friends.”

“Oh my god are you-stop.” He heaved her up the stairs as tear flowed down her face. He turned her around so her arms were around his neck, face tucked into his shoulder. She had herself pulled so tightly against him he was struggling to get up the stairs. He had one hand firmly on her lower back, the other one he was using to pull himself up the stairs by the railing. She let out a particular loud sob, and Nolan tired to pull her off of him to look at him, but she just held him tighter.

“Im not even into her like that.”

“Her. Someone else. Doesn’t matter. They’ll take you from me.” She whispered against his neck. Her words touched Nolan’s heart.

“That’s never gonna happen okay?” He opened her bedroom door and walked her forward to her bed losing his footing and falling down into bed with her. They landed, bed springs squeaking with a small ‘oof’. Her tears had subsided and she was laying with her eyes closed on her pillow as he untangled himself from her.

“ Nolan?” Sawyer asked face against the pillow

“ Hmmmmm?”

“ Do you still love me?” He chuckled and pulled the covers up over her, pushing her hair from her face. She was flushed and her eyeliner was smudged around the eyes from her crying, but she opened them and stared at him waiting for his answer.

“ Of course I do. Why?”

She sat up suddenly, getting right up in his face. He was frozen as she stared at him, lips pushing up against his, arm wrapping around his neck. It was chaste at first but then she pressed harder and pulled herself flush to him. Like his body was on autopilot he let his tongue trace across her lower lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as one of his hands tangled in her hair and gripped the back of her neck. They carried on a few more moments till he felt her tug at the bottom of his shirt.

“No Sawyer.”

She looked shocked, and then angry as she backed up against her headboard.

“Did you say no? “

“Yes I did.”

She sputtered for a moment, genuine hurt clouding her face. Nolan felt bad but he had to put his foot down.

“ What? Not pretty enough?”

“No that has nothing to do with it. I’m not gonna let you do this when your drunk. Now go to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She blinked sadly and laid down facing away from him. She was out within seconds and Nolan sighed looking down at her. He laid down on the sofa at the opposite end of her room, and folded his arm beneath his head as stared at the ceiling.

What the hell was going on?

Sawyer woke up with a raging headache the next morning. Her whole body hurt, and her mouth tasted like booze. She blinked a few times before she lifted her head and immediately put it back on her pillow. Her clothing from the night before was still on and as she curled up to snuggle deeper under the blankets her foot hit something. She froze and turned slowly to find Nolan was sitting up next to her on her bed, doing something on his phone. Her curtains were drawn shut and the room was still dark, but the the tv was on. She could hear the putter patter of rain on her window and could see the dark clouds through a sliver of window not covered by the curtain. He looked down when she stirred and smiled.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train. She rolled over to face him, head still on her pillow.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”

She nodded and yawned snuggling in closer to him. He reached a tentative hand up and let his fingers run through her hair. She was asleep within a few minutes, her head resting on her pillow by his hip. She didn’t remember last night and he wouldn’t tell her about it. It was a secret he would keep, and kiss he would try to forget.

Nolan never spoke of it to anyone, not his friends, family no one. It was a secret he would take with him not only for his own sake but for hers as well. He didn’t know what she was going through but what had happened last night could have changed everything. He had thankfully not been drinking at that point, because if he had he wasn’t so sure he would have stopped her. The way she had kissed him had sent a chill up his spine. He buried it, and things between them went back to normal, but sometimes late at night when he couldn’t sleep it floated into his mind, and though he would never admit it to anyone but his own conscience, he wanted to do it again.

*******

“Nolan James you are cutting this hair whether you like it or not.” His mom said as she shoved him out the door and into the car. Sawyer was chuckling as she buckled herself in the backseat. He threw his head against the passenger seat. He had worked so hard to grow it out.

“I will not have you looking like a homeless child when you get drafted.”

“Everyone wears it this way now mom-“

“Well you don’t.” Nolan grumbled, and bitched and moaned through the whole thing. His mom made him take it short, shorter than it had been in a long time. He looked clean cut and presentable, but she liked it long.

“You look SO handsome.” She said smiling at him through the mirror. He looked sadly at the long pieces that littered the floor.

“I better get drafted really high for this.”

*******

“Philadelphia selects from the Western Hockey League’s Brandon Wheat Kings, Nolan Patrick.”

Sawyer covered her mouth, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She watched as Nolan stood, and hugged his parents and sisters before turning to her and pulling her into a very long hug.

“I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” He whispered, before releasing her and walked up to the stage, and pulled on the orange sweater.

He had made it. And she was so proud of him. His mom gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so important to him that your here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She swiped at a tear, and clapped along with the rest of the crowd as Nolan stood on the stage and officially became a Philadelphia Flyer. She knew this meant she was going to lose him, that he would be far away and make new friends, and maybe even meet the girl he would spend the rest of his life with. But he had made it and that was all that mattered. When everything was all said and done, interviews completed and photos taken, it was just them alone in her hotel room. They had broken into the mini bar, and were laying on their back in the bed. The orange jersey hung on the back of a chair, and her black dress was hung on a hanger, shoes on the floor.

“How does it feel?” She asked quietly. The sun had just started to go down, the tv was on and she was sleepy from the long day and the alcohol. He shrugged.

“Nols you got drafted today. That’s a big thing.”

“Yeah. But it means I’m going to have to leave you.”

He turned his head to look at her. He was happy about the draft, but his whole life was in Winnipeg, with his family, his friends, and her. And he would leave all that at the end of the summer.

“I’m not going anywhere Nols. I’ll be here when you leave, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

There wasn’t much talking the rest of the night. They chose to sit in comfortable silence till they both fell asleep. They spent as much time together that summer as they could, clinging on to the last moments together for dear life. They were both absolutely terrified of being without each other for the first time in almost 19 years. She would have to re adjust her life at home without him, and he would have to start over somewhere new without her.

The night before he was due to leave they hiked up to the top of that hill they had sat on the day her sister disappeared. It was dark by the time they reached the top, the sounds of nightfall echoing through the trees. The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale milky glow over the trees and hills. The light sod town seemed so far away as they sat neither one saying a word.

“Will you come visit?” He asked quietly. She nodded.

“Of course. As soon as I can. Your gonna have so much fun in Philly Nolan.”

“I guess.”

It was quiet for a while before Nolan couldn’t take it anymore. He had been dying the last few months, each day getting shorter and shorter as it passed. His time with her seemed like it was being robbed from him. He went over it a million times in his head. And he always came back to the night she kissed him. A night she didn’t even remember and he would never forget.

“Sawyer.” He said suddenly, startling her. She was so used to him mumbling his way through life it took her aback how deep his voice was when he spoke clearly.

“What?”

“Can I- I just. Maybe this is just me being…whatever about leaving tomorrow but, can I…can I kiss you?”

She sucked in a breath, feeling like her chest was constricting. They had not spoken of their almost kiss the day he took her home when she was drunk, and she had pushed it out of her mind as a pity kiss for what had happened at the school the day prior. She didn’t remember the other one, and here he was asking her to do it again. He stared at her for a long time waiting for an answer. She didn’t know why she did it, she couldn’t think of a reason, she could barely even formulate words, but somehow she managed to say.

“Yes.”

He rose to his feet and extended a hand pulling her up with him. Her heart was clocking around in her chest, as she watched his hand moved forward and came to rest on her cheek. He stepped forward, pulling her against him very gently before he leaned down and brushed her nose with his own, before he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn’t a heavy make out like in a movie. It was soft and slow, and shorter than she wanted it to be. When they broke apart, he sighed and let his forehead fall against her own.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

******

She watched with tears in her eyes as Nolan hugged his parents, various aunts uncles and friends at the airport. There had been no more talking, or kissing the night before. She didn’t know why he had done it, but it felt like it was okay. He finally turned to her, eyes sad and took a deep breath.

“Don’t cry.” He said as she fell slowly into him, arms coming around his midsection. A series of silent tears fell from her eyes as he rubbed a hand up her back. She knew this moment was coming, but she wasn’t ready for it. He pulled back to look at her, hands resting on her shoulders. She had her head bowed, two fistfuls of the material of his sweatshirt. His mom motioned for the rest of the group to turn around, and give them some privacy.

“Nolan.” Her voice caught in her throat. He reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear for what felt like the last time.

“I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a small smile, and let go of her still grasping her hand as he walked away towards the gate until they both let go. She wrapped her arms around her middle. She watched until he disappeared through security before she let out a choked sob. Bo, Jessi, And Chase immediately pulled her into a three way hug, and allowed her to cry on their shoulders right there in the airport.

*******

I hope you like this! It was both funny and sad and special to write! Let me know what you think💕

#nhl x reader #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #hockey writing #hockey tumblr #hockey fic #philadephia flyers #brandon wheat kings #nolpat #nhl hockey #nolan patrick fic

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amanda-glassen · 3 years

Text

The Wonder Years: Part 11

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-10 and one-shots in this universe can be found in the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Jamie stayed up with Olivia until 2 a.m. playing video games to take their minds off of the night’s events when Serena finally came home. She didn’t talk to either of them despite Jamie asking if she was okay and Olivia telling her that she loved her. Olivia didn’t know who this woman was that walked through the door. She was fragile and worn down, nothing like the vibrant woman she knew. Olivia was used to giving her mom a hug every time she got home, but this time there was no talking to her, no touching her, and Olivia felt for the first time in her life that her mom wished she hadn’t been born. The only words she heard from her after a few minutes was her mom yelling at her to go to bed.

...but she didn’t go to bed. Instead, Olivia left her bedroom door slightly ajar so she could peek down the hall.

Olivia didn’t know how it happened, but Jamie was able to embrace her mom and Serena clinged to her and smiled some goofy smile that Olivia had once seen in a romantic comedy, until she remembered she and her mom didn’t actually watch romantic comedies. Or was that a horror movie before the woman went on a rampage and killed the man who wronged her? Either way, she’s actually smiling.

“I’m sorry our first full night together didn’t go according to plan,” she heard her mom say to Jamie.

Olivia didn’t remember falling asleep and, when she woke up the next morning, the noises she heard from down the hall made her feel as if she had woken up in another universe. She heard pans clinking in the kitchen and the sound of her mom laughing. Oh my god, she killed my dad with a frying pan and she’s laughing about it. But Olivia quickly shook that thought from her head and took a deep breath before walking down the hall.

“...Mom?” Olivia hesitated.

“I’m in the kitchen, Olliegator!” she heard her mom call out.

She walked in to find Jamie standing in front of the stove, making omelets and her mom sitting on the counter, eating from a bowl of shredded cheese. She was smiling and happy and Olivia began to wonder if last night had even happened at all or if it was just a horrible dream.

“Morning, Ollie. Your mom has been banished to the counter,” Jamie informed her. “She kept trying to do non-stick pan demonstrations, but she couldn’t do them without making the omelets fly out of the pan and onto the floor. I figured the bowl of cheese will keep her happy, though.”

“Treating me like a common mouse,” Serena scoffed. “Do I at least have permission to get off of the counter so I could talk to my daughter?”

“Permission granted,” Jamie responded, too preoccupied with the omelets to care if Serena got off the countertop.

While sitting on the couch in the living room, there wasn’t a single moment of awkward silence before Olivia felt herself wrapped up in her mom’s embrace. She was holding her close and giving her kisses on the cheek to make Olivia giggle, which made her more confused than ever. It’s like last night never even happened.

“My Ollie,” her mom said as she hugged her again. “My sweet baby. I’m so sorry I hurt you last night.”

“It's okay."

She felt her mom cup her face in her hands. "I need you to listen to me, Olivia. It's never okay for anyone to hurt you, especially me. I’m your mom and I should always protect you.”

“Mom?”

Her mom kissed her wrist where she had roughly grabbed it the night before. “Does it still hurt? Do you need ice? Olliegator, please tell me how I can make it up to you? I’ll get you anything. I’ll get you the bat you’ve been wanting.” Her mom shook her head. “No, that’ll make it seem like I’m buying your forgiveness. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so bad at this.”

“Buying my forgiveness is okay,” Olivia smiled. “I’ll take the bat.”

“I bet you will,” her mom playfully pulled her onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her waist. “My big baby. You’re growing so fast. You’re almost as tall as me now.”

“Mom?” Olivia asked nervously.

“Yes, Ollie?”

“What you said earlier...you’re not bad at this,” Olivia averted her eyes. “And this whole you being in love thing...I guess it’s okay. Jamie played video games with me last night while you were with Uncle Kyle. I really like her. I just don’t like her kissing you. No one is supposed to be kissing my mom.”

“No one?”

Olivia turned around to face her. “Just me,” she said after giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She saw her mom give her that dopey smile that meant she was feeling soft and sentimental.

“Okay, only you.” Olivia felt her mom’s fingers combing through her hair. “I know what you can do for your science project.” With everything that had happened around her in the course of twelve hours, Olivia had completely forgotten about her science project. Even if it was a significant portion of her grade, it all felt so trivial in comparison to meeting her dad. “When I was in middle school, my best friend and I did a cupcake geology project and made cupcakes with different layers to represent the earth. Instead of your classmates just observing the project, they’ll get their own cupcakes and straws to use to simulate what it’s like to drill and collect core samples. I’ll help you bake them.”

Olivia gave her a confused look. “But you can’t bake.”

“Then I’ll help you convince Jamie to bake them,” Serena playfully touched her finger to the tip of Olivia’s nose. “Come on, Olliegator. I think breakfast is almost ready.”

“Race you to the kitchen. First one there gets the cheesiest omelet.” Olivia took off running but felt her mom wrap her arms around her waist from behind and push ahead of her. “Mom! That’s cheating!”

....but the moment her mom stepped foot in the kitchen, Jamie scooped her up and refused to let her go. “Get the cheesy one, Ollie. She’s trapped.”

Olivia raced toward the plate with the cheesy omelet and piled some hash browns next to it. She looked back at her mom who was still struggling to get away from Jamie’s embrace. “Jamie! Now I have to have the veggie omelet.”

“Serena, you ate half a bowl of cheese this morning!” Jamie released her once Olivia was sitting down with her breakfast. “I did it on purpose, babe. When was the last time you ate a vegetable that wasn’t on a pizza?”

“I ate a chicken caesar wrap for lunch two days ago,” Serena pointed out as she begrudgingly piled some hash browns next to her veggie omelet.

Jamie came up to hug her from behind and Olivia couldn’t help but giggle when she saw her mom pout. “Yeah and I bet you doused it in dressing,” Jamie smirked.

“She’s just gonna cover this in ketchup anyway and that’s loaded with sugar,” Olivia told Jamie although she had just squirted ketchup onto her own hash browns. “And not just the hash browns either. She covers her omelets, too.”

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” her mom asked as she poured what remained of the shredded cheese onto her omelet when Jamie wasn’t looking. “Are you two going to call me out on all of my eating habits?”

As her mom really didn’t know how to cook, a homemade breakfast was a rare treat in the Benson household. On weekend mornings, they usually ordered from Doordash or went to her mom’s favorite coffee shop for bagels. Weekday mornings were always hectic between Olivia rushing to get ready for school and her mom getting ready for work so she’d scarf down a Pop Tart while her mom grabbed a cereal bar and some coffee in a tumbler. But sitting at the table that morning, just the three of them, eating a breakfast that Jamie cooked and talking and laughing made Olivia feel like they could eventually be a family and her mom could be happy like this every morning.

“What’s on your mind, Olliegator?” her mom asked as tousled her hair.

She wanted to tell her mom that she was happy for her and that her being in love was one of the best things that could happen to the two of them. She wanted to tell her that she was going to meet her dad so she could alleviate some of the guilt. Olivia still didn’t know what happened between the two of them, but she held onto the hope that it was a fight－something they could finally work out－and when they did, Olivia would have a relationship with her dad. She didn’t want her parents together now that she knew how much her mom loved Jamie and how much Jamie loved her mom, but she still hoped that he could go to her games and maybe she could spend every other weekend at his house like all the other kids she knew whose parents were divorced. She thought about what her grandma said about going to Disneyland and she wanted to tell her that she’d do anything for the chance to ride the teacups with Alex, but none of the words formed.

“I’m just thinking about how good the cheesy omelet is.”

#alex and liv: the wonder years #cabenson #olivia benson #alex cabot

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