drunken calls

anonymous asked:

I don't know why ur actin up for attention. You're okay as a writer, but there are much better ones in the fandom who have far less recognition

You see. It all started when father returned from the war. He had never been an affectionate man, as much as I can recall. But after the war, the small nods and brief glances from him that I had grown to look forward to had disappeared.

He was quick to anger and quicker to drink. Sometimes I’d awaken in the middle of the night to find him standing in the middle of the quiet farm, bathed in moonlight and despondent. His eyes would be fixated on the moon and stars, unblinking.

“Papa,” I’d call to him, “you’re scaring me…”

Of course, he didn’t respond. He never did. Somehow, his silence instilled more fear than his anger. The eerie quiet when I wished so badly to know what he was imagining.

The chores on the farm soon fell on my shoulders, as my mother came down with a chest cold that never seemed to go away. Some days were worse than others for her. I remember running to fetch the doctor in the middle of the night when she couldn’t keep from coughing. Walking through the old wooden thresh hold he greeted my father, who sat unblinking once again in his rocker with the usual bottle of liquor in his calloused hand. The light from the candles flickered, showing glimpses of his eyes which were wide with madness.

Seeing now the state he was in, the doctor simply tipped his cap and tended to my ailing mother. And soon after that, the talk around town began. Not so quiet whispers accompanied by piercing eyes when I made my way into town to fetch mothers tonic or liquor for papa.

My trips became less and less frequent. Not only because I couldn’t handle the gossip, but it seemed papa would do something drastic every time I left. One day I found him in the coop snapping the necks of the chickens inside, feathers flying everywhere as the few remaining tried to escape his grasp.

“Papa! No!” I screamed for him to stop.

He dropped to his knees with shaking hands. It was the first time he had spoken to me in what seemed like years. His voice was more hoarse than I remembered.

“I’m…sorry,” he spoke through tears.

Heavy with the shame of what he had done, he dragged himself off as I took care of the mess and contemplated how we would get our eggs now. I didn’t see papa again until that night. He came stumbling inside near dawn, crashing around our old farm house in his usual drunken stuper and calling for my grandmother, who had passed some time ago.

Why am I seeking attention? Who knows…but reading this message I think back to those chickens and their snapped necks. Who can say why, but perhaps I am jealous of them a bit. For at least, even in a brief moment before their deaths, they felt my fathers touch. Something I never had.

“Much better writers with far less recognition?” I chuckled and inched closer to you.

When the fandom approached me, asking me to hand-choose which followers went to which blogs I was shocked, but proudly took on the task. Just as I had taken on the burden of my families farm, I would also carry out this task to the best of my ability.

I moved my lips closer to your ear, letting them ghost over the skin as my fingers delicately tucked your hair to the side. My warm breath was seeping into your pores as you waited for me to respond.

“I know,” I whispered so softly, “now unfollow me, bitch.”

College Alex Drunk Dials the Cute Girl from Bio Class: Part Two (the morning after)

By absurdly popular demand, here is the second part of this story: https://queercapwriting.tumblr.com/post/160028331674/sanvers-in-college-alex-drunk-dials-the-cute-girl

@technicallynotahuman @sarcasticallyinspired (don’t sacrifice anyone here it is ;) ) @danielagzzda @a-few-of-my-favorite-turtles @mahaokby @kryptons-lesbian @like-rain-and-phones and all yall commenting on Ao3, see what happens when you ask nicely? ;)


She wakes before Alex does.

Of course she wakes before Alex does – she doesn’t have red solo cups brimmed with punch working its way out of her bloodstream.

The sun’s just coming in through the blinds on her small window, and she can’t help but stare at the girl laying above her, in her bed, tangled in her sheets.

Alex hasn’t moved all night – she’s still out cold in the same position Maggie helped her into a few hours ago.

She smiles, and she forces herself to look away from how peaceful her best friend’s big sister looks. How peaceful, as opposed to how intense she always seems, how intent on getting everything right, on understanding everything immediately, on protecting Kara. How gorgeous she looks. Like she always does.

She forces herself to look away because it wouldn’t be fair.

Wouldn’t be fair to stare at the sleeping form of the girl she’s had a crush on since she first laid eyes on her – sitting front center in their bio lecture, while Maggie sat all the way up in the back – it was just the back of her head, then, her sweater and the way she took copious notes, and the clean, confident quality of her voice when she answered questions, when she demanded explanations for things that seemed to make no sense – things the professors didn’t have answers for, so the girl found her own.

Maggie had lingered in her seat, that first day. Lingered, because she wanted to see this girl stand up, turn around. Wanted to see her face.

And when she did – god, when she did – Maggie almost swooned, because god, she’s the most beautiful girl Maggie had ever seen.

She knew immediately that she had no chance. That this girl was way out of her league.

So when she befriended Kara Danvers in her English class, her stomach clenched when she slowly started to realize that the girl she had a crush on was her new friend’s older sister.

God, to be a lesbian.

So it wouldn’t be fair to stare at her now, even after Alex’s drunken confessions the night before.

Because hell, she was probably just lonely, just drunk, just looking for a good time.

Because there was no way someone as brilliant, as dedicated, as gorgeous as Alex Danvers would ever even notice her, let alone…

Whatever. It’s whatever.

She stands quietly and pads into the kitchen, rummaging for instant coffee, for water, for a banana, for aspirin. Alex will probably need all of them when she wakes.

Maggie settles back onto the floor with a calculus text book, her back against the wall, eyes deliberately not on Alex’s sleeping form, but facing her so she can make sure she’s alright. Make sure she’s not having nightmares or anything.

She forces herself to focus on studying – just one more exam, tonight – so she doesn’t focus on the deep, slow rhythm of Alex’s breath. Doesn’t focus on the idea, the image, of Alex in her bed.

In her bed.

God.

She needs to focus.

But then Alex is stirring, and Maggie is glancing up, and Alex is checking to see if she has her clothes on, and Maggie’s fists clench and her heart breaks.

“Maggie.” Her voice is groggy and her voice is perfect.

“Morning,” Maggie offers, still like if she moves, she’ll scare Alex more than she already looks scared.

“Did I – did we – ”

“No.” She shakes her head firmly, and Alex instantly believes her.

“God. Because if we did, I’d want to remem – ” But then she does remember.

Remembers her drunken call, remembers her confessions. Remembers Maggie calling her sweetie, remembers Maggie running to get her, to give her water.

Remembers telling Maggie she wants to kiss her, and something about a promise to continue the conversation when Alex is sober. If she wants.

And she does want. God, does she want.

But right now? Right now, her face is red and she’s rolling over in Maggie’s bed – in Maggie’s bed, in Maggie’s bed – and she’s groaning and she’s apologizing, apologizing, over and over and over.

And then there are tentative hands on her back, on her shoulder, and there’s whispering, soft and gentle and careful and protective.

“Hey, hey, hey, Danvers. Alex. You have nothing to apologize for. Okay? It happens. Being drunk and all. It’s okay, you’re okay, I don’t… I don’t think any less of you or – ”

“But I was so pathetic – ”

“No.” The sternness in Maggie’s voice makes her take her hands away from her face and look up at her, at her messy hair, still in the basketball shorts and hoodie she’d thrown on last night.

“No, Alex, you’re not pathetic. Okay? Far from it, you – ”

“Maggie.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you get up?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just – ”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just – I have to pee.”

Maggie grins, partly amused, mostly relieved that Alex wasn’t repulsed by her touch. She bows and sweeps her hands toward her bathroom, and Alex returns the grin shyly.

Maggie collapses onto her bed and sighs and stares at her hands and tries to calm her racing heart, her burning desire.

She waits a few long minutes, until she hears Alex call, “Hey Maggie, can I use your mouthwash?”

“Course you can!” she calls back, her heart racing, glad she’d brushed her own teeth while Alex was still sleeping, because Alex had said she wanted to kiss her, and maybe, just maybe… but no. No, no. She was probably just trying to get rid of the taste of old alcohol in her mouth. That had to be it.

She’s still trying to convince herself not to get her hopes up – because god knows that never does any good – when she realizes that Alex has opened the bathroom door, is leaning on it, holding it, her head resting on it, staring at Maggie with a slightly tilted head.

“You okay?” she asks, and Maggie almost jumps.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that? You hungover?”

Alex stretches her neck out like she’s testing herself, and she shakes her head.

“Not really. You took good care of me.”

Maggie splutters, and she doesn’t remember any girl ever making her splutter before.

“I just gave you some water.”

Alex nods to the banana, aspirin, and water Maggie had already set out for you. “You did more than that.”

Maggie shrugs and stands, pushing off the bed with her hands on her thighs.

“Just being a good campus citizen, Danvers.”

Alex’s face drops, and Maggie’s heart goes along with it. Alex crosses the room slowly, tentatively, and Maggie forgets how to breathe.

“Is that all?” Alex wants to know, and Maggie can look at nothing but her lips, breathe nothing but her breath, think nothing but her confessions the night before. Noticing her. Liking her. How smart she is. How cute. That she’s been wanting to have Maggie take her back to her room. Been wanting to kiss her.

“I… Alex…”

Alex backs up immediately, her face a map of disappointment, of humiliation. Of self-hatred.

“I’m sorry – ”

“No, Alex, I… I sit all the way up in the back of the lecture hall, how did you even… notice me?”

Alex smiles at that, at the hope she hears in Maggie’s voice, and she plops back down on Maggie’s bed. Maggie joins her on the rumpled sheets, and they both gulp when they realize that they might be fully clothed, they might be sitting up, but they are, technically, in bed together.

“I can’t imagine ever not noticing you, Maggie,” Alex admits with no breath, with a bright red face and with shaking hands.

“But I’m just…”

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” Alex whispers, and Maggie shakes her head.

“Alex – ”

“You said… I know I was drunk, but I could never forget this – you said you’d come to bed with me. Kiss me. If I still wanted to, sober. And I’m sober. And I… I still want to kiss you. Were you just being nice, or do you – ”

Maggie cuts off her words with her lips, with gentle hands on Alex’s face, thumbs swiping over her cheeks, index fingers lost in her jawline, under her short hair, and Alex raises her eyebrows, still with shock for a moment before she steadies herself with one hands on Maggie’s shoulder and the other on her face, kissing her back, kissing her back, kissing her back.

Maggie gasps when Alex’s lips part for her tongue, and heat tears through her body when Alex swoons against her with a gasp softer than air but more intense than anything Maggie has ever heard or felt.

Alex tastes like her mouthwash and she tastes like her heaven, and god, god, god, she’s never understood the whole fireworks thing until this moment, here, now, Alex Danvers’s trembling fingers on her shoulders, Alex’s tongue exploring her lips, Alex’s body shifting so they’re as close as they can be without laying down, Alex kissing her like she’s never been kissed, like she’s never been seen, like she’s never been cared for, attended to… appreciated.

They kiss until neither of them can breathe, until they have to part their lips and press their foreheads together and breathe. Just breathe.

“Wow,” Maggie whispers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” Alex smiles, and Maggie mirrors it.

“Same, Danvers. Same.”

“So you’re saying you like me back. Cause that’s… that’s what I got.”

Maggie chuckles. What a nerd.

What a perfect, perfect nerd.

“Of course, you’re not gonna make me wait a whole term for our next kiss, are you?”

It’s Alex’s turn to chuckle, to run her fingers over Maggie’s hair, to pull her into their next kiss.

Their next kiss, and far, far, far from their last.

Speak my love for you

Ok so @whalechief, I’m your secret valentine. I did shklance for you, so I hope you enjoy. Oh quick thing, ‘hai dozo’, basically mean ‘here you go’ in Japanese. The italicized word in normal quotation marks are being spoken in Japanese but while I have studied it, I’m not really fluent in Japanese except for the basics. So again, happy Valentine’s Day and I hope you enjoy.

Lance blinked sleepily at the semi crowded room. He was tired, college classes were getting to him.

“You doing ok?” he looked over to where Hunk was cleaning the expresso machine.

Lance nodded, “I’m just tired from all the work I have to do. I still need to get my astronomy and Japanese class grades up.”

“Are you still eavesdropping on the really good looking couple?”

“The one with the both equally strong looking guys who look good enough to eat? The same ones I’m really hoping I heard were poly, yes Hunk, yes I am.” The couple on his mind were good looking and from the very interaction, quiet nice. They were going out, if the kiss the shorter one gave his boyfriend the first time they came into the shop was anything to go by, but when they sat together, they’d speak Japanese to each other. Lance, learning Japanese, would eavesdrop on their conversations just to test his listening skills. He had been sure they had been talking about another guy they had tried dating. Either that or his wishes were messing up with his hearing, which would be bad. But honestly, he really wanted a chance with them, if he could ever ask them out.

“They’re gonna catch you one day.” Hunk warned.

“I’ll deal with that then.” Lance let out a yawn behind his hand, rubbing his eyes. He was really tired, and his brain did feel kinda frazzled.

He didn’t notice that the two guys he had been hoping to see walk into the shop but he did notice the very angry customer stomp over, slamming his half-filled cup on the counter, making him jolt.

“You!”

“Um, yes?”

“I had asked for a soy decafe latte.”

“Um, ok?” Lance was pretty sure that’s what the guy had in front of him, not to mention that it was half drunk. “Uh, sir. This is a soy decafe and it’s half drunken.”

“Are you calling me a liar? I have superior taste buds and this is not what I ordered.”

Where the hell was Hunk? When did he disappear? And did the guy have to yell? Lance was sure that he had called out the correct order when the guy came to pick it up. He never corrected him. He couldn’t deal with this guy coming up and yelling at him with no support.

“Hey asshole! Instead of lying, why not just leave cause you’re causing an unnecessary scene.”

That when he noticed them, the two guys he had been crushing on. The smaller one had his long hair tied into a ponytail, his purple eyes glaring at rude man in front of him. His boyfriend looked just as annoyed, but not as angrily powerful. He was sure that was not an easy feet to achieve.

“Excuse me?”

“They tell you you’re drink when your name is called. That cup is half empty and there are stains on the cup from drinking. You can’t honestly think you can get a free drink out of this. That order is correct and now you’re bothering the workers for no reason. So get lost or I’ll be more than willing to do it for you.”

The man looked like he was ready to argue more but taller boyfriend stepped forward. The guy was tall and really muscular. Lance was sure that the scar on his nose made him seem more terrifying, though Lance just thought it added to his hotness. Sure enough, the man took his cup and stormed out. Lance finally felt like he could breathe.

“Hey, are you ok?” he looked up to see the taller man. His mind finally put a name to the face, Shiro. He had gotten his name from him whenever writing down names, he was surprised he forgot. Maybe his mind was a bit more frazzled than he thought.

“Uh, yeah. Um, thank you.”

“You looked overwhelmed. I’m glad we were able to help a bit.” Shiro said. His boyfriend, Keith –what was with his head supplying the names so late? – didn’t look as mad before, but still looked slightly annoyed.

“I really hate it when assholes think they can just get away with stuff like that.” Keith said.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Shiro asked

Lance nodded, “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Hunk came out from the kitchen, “I heard yelling. What happened?”

“Just a rude customer. I got it, don’t worry.” Lance said, calming Hunk down before he turned back to the other two. “What can I get for you? On the house for helping me.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary.” Shiro said

“Please, it’s the least I can do. Plus I barely use the free employee discount I’m given anyway.”

“Are you sure?” at Lance nod, Shiro continued, “Ok, but I’m still getting my regular. Passion fruit frappe, for Shiro.”

“Peppermint latte for Keith.”

“Ok, passion fruit frappe for Shiro and peppermint latte for Keith. Alright, I’ll bring it over when it’s done.” The two went to their regular table, while Hunk pulled Lance away a bit.

“I was gone for two minutes to help Coran, what happened? Was it that weird guy with the shifty eyes?”

“Basically this customer was being really rude and yelling and my mind was already frazzled so I kinda almost broke down if they hadn’t come and saved me.” Lance explained

“And of course you offered free coffee. Please tell me you’ll try and ask them out. Trust me, normal people would jump for free stuff. They didn’t until you insisted.”

Lance looked over his shoulder to where the table was. He saw Keith glance at him before continuing to talk to Shiro. “We’ll see. Can you help me with the drinks?” the machinery was a bit closer to their table, so Lance was able to hear the tones of Japanese come to his ears. Lance knew it seemed rude after they helped but him, but he slipped back into the habit of eavesdropping.

“You can get really protective can’t you?”

“He looked like he was about to cry. I didn’t want to see that on him. He always has a smile. One that makes his eyes shine.”

Wait, where they talking about him?

“They do shine don’t they? It looks like the ocean. He’s pretty cute, which is why we should you know…”

Tell him he wasn’t hearing things? Were they talking about him? And saying he was cute?

“Hunk,” he whispered, “I think they’re talking about me. They mentioned Keith saving me and my ‘shiny blue eyes’. I think they called me cute.”

“Why do you look so surprised?” Hunk asked as he started pouring Shiro’s finished drink into the cup. “You always call yourself cute and so do I.”

“There’s a difference between the two hottest guys I’ve been crushing on since I met them and my best bro, who I love deeply.”

“Glad I feel special.” Hunk joked, spraying whip cream on.

“Are we going to ask him out?” Shiro asked

Keith let out a sigh and it took everything not to turn around to see his face. “I do, I really do, but I’d rather wait until before we’re about to leave in case he’s not into us.”

“I’m sure that our favourite barista is.”

“Ok. Now I’m pretty sure it’s me they’re talking about.” So they were interested in him. Lance couldn’t help the giddy smile on his face.

“Wait, really? You didn’t mix words up?”

“I really hope not. Actually, I have an idea. Are you done with Shiro’s?”

“Yeah. But what are you planning?” Hunk asked, handing the cup over.

“Trust me, if I tell you, I might talk myself out of it, or you’ll try and I might let you.” Lance carried the two drinks over to the table. The two stopped talking when Lance approached.

Hai, dozo.” Lance said in Japanese, as he set the cups down. The two started responding in Japanese but stopped before looking right at him. “Just so you know, I’ve been studying Japanese for the past two years. I do feel bad for eavesdropping but I’m not upset about what I heard.”

The two stared at him before Keith hid his face in his hands, “of course you understood us. Why not add to my embarrassment?”

“If it makes you feel better, I had my fingers crossed that you were actually talking about me or this conversation would be really weird. But just so you don’t have to wait, I am interest in going out with you two. If that’s what you were getting at?”

“Yes, actually. We’ve wanted to ask you for a while, but we’ve actually gotten a bit shy. After seeing you today, we decided we were going to ask today, but it seems that you beat us to it.” Shiro explained, his face actually looking a bit red. Keith was still hiding his face. The guy might be willing to yell at strangers, but it was cute to see him so flustered. “So, where did you learn, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, I’m minoring in Japanese at Voltron University.”

“Wait, you go to Voltron? How come we’ve never seen you?” Keith asked, immerging from his palms.

“Well I major in childhood education, so that might be why.”

“Let’s not forget we live off campus Keith. You barely want to be on campus as much as it is. In fact, did you want to come to our house for dinner of Friday? I think it’ll be a good excuse to avoid everyone and still be together, since it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m even willing to pull out Japanese recipes.”

“You can cook whatever you want. I’ll just bring a ton of chocolate.”

Keith swiped the sharpie attached to Lance apron and wrote a number down on a napkin before handing both items to Lance. “That’s my number. Text tonight so we can fill out the details?”

The same giddy smile made it back to Lance’s face as he took the items from Keith. “Sure. I’ll leave you to it.” He gave them both a smile before heading back behind the counter. Hunk was giving him a knowing look.

“Well that went really well.”

“I did not want to embarrass myself like that.” He heard Keith moan.

“He said yes, so let’s be thankful for that.”

Lance looked back at Hunk, “really well. Hey, do you think you can help me make a shit ton of chocolate before Valentine’s? I’ve got a lot of unhad dates to make up for.”

Into You (5/?)

Summary- Your phone call with Tom which lands you in a hole even you struggle to climb out of.

AN- The next couple of chapters will be interesting… ALSO inbox me if you would like to be tagged in future chapters

PART FOUR  REQUESTS

Originally posted by dailyspiderman

PART FIVE - BAD DECISIONS

“Tom?”

“Look, Y/N. If this is some drunken phone call to beg me to come back to you then-”

The scoff that you couldn’t help fall from your mouth interrupted him. You could tell it annoyed him by the way he stopped so suddenly, and you knew he always found it rude when someone interrupted him.

“Oh please Tom, you and I both know, if anyone begged it would be you.”

Slowly and quietly, in attempt to not wake up Sean, you picked up his feet that were still draped across your lap. Sean still completely knocked out, drool escaping his open mouth, small snores as well.

Keep reading

Alone Together [j.j.]

Request: ‘Time Waster 4 was soooo good!! can I request a Jughead x reader where she also has to look after herself and had a tough job and Jughead does everything to get her out of it?’ - @nooneshoney

Alright so I tried to stick to the idea, I really did. But I kinda switched it up, hope you don’t mind. :)

~~~

Fear. It is something that has always been around. It tends to curl up inside of you, bothering you until it consumes your thoughts and is the only thing you think of as you lay in bed trying to fall asleep.

(Y/N) (L/N) had plenty of fears. She had a fear of heights (’they’re dangerous!’ she’d always claim), she had a fear of spiders (’anything with more then 6 legs shouldn’t exist!’), and she even had a fear of losing all her friends.

But the thing that she feared most of all, was failure.

~~~

Growing up, (Y/N)’s parents would always tell her that she was meant for greatness. Or at least, she was up until the day her parents’ marriage started falling apart. All she remembered was a fight, a slap, and her mother leaving and vowing to never come back.

Left alone, her dad turned to alcohol and all of a sudden, the wealthy (L/N) family fell from grace. The (L/N)’s company was under (Y/N)’s mom’s name and apart from a monthly check for $500, they hadn’t heard from her since.

Having grown up wealthy, the split left (Y/N) very shaken. She no longer had everything handed to her on a silver platter, a full ride to an Ivy League university no longer guaranteed. Money was short, the check only barely covering the rent on the small apartment that (Y/N) and her father had moved into.

Her life was falling apart.

~~~

Six months after the split, one of (Y/N)’s worst fears came true: she was failing her precalculus class (A/N: idk if that is the usual math for sophomore year but that’s what I took). The pressure was getting to her.

Seeing as the monthly check was only paying the rent, (Y/N) had decided to take up an after school job at a small business in the south side of Riverdale. It was a hectic schedule and she was struggling a lot more than she’d like to admit, but she couldn’t let any of her friends find out about her situation. She didn’t want their pity.

It was a Monday morning when another one of her fears came true: she was losing her friends. It had started when she walked into the school only to find Jughead and Betty waiting for her by her locker.

“Hey guys. What’s up?” she had asked, squeezing in between them to get to her locker.

“We were wondering if…” Betty trailed off, nudging Jughead.

“…if you wanted to join the Blue & Gold,” Jughead finished, shooting Betty an annoyed look and stepping away from her.

“Sorry guys,” (Y/N) had smoothly replied. “I’m pretty busy after school these days.”

“Doing what?” Jughead had questioned. “You quit the River Vixens and last time I checked, you don’t have any other extracurriculars.”

(Y/N) froze slightly before composing herself and turning around. Jughead noticed her weird behavior.

“Yeah I have some extra credit work to do,” she smiled. “It’s gonna take me a while. Sorry.”

Betty leaned into Jughead as (Y/N) walked away. “Something’s up with her.”

Jughead nodded in agreement.

~~~

The rest of the week passed without incident and neither Betty nor Jughead asked (Y/N) about her weird behavior. Friday however, was a different story.

“Hey (Y/N),” Veronica said as she approached the (H/C) girl.

“Hey Ronnie!” she had smiled back.

“So it’s movie night tonight and it’s your turn to bring Pop’s,” Veronica wiggled her eyebrows.

(Y/N)’s smile faltered. “Oh Ronnie, I can’t go today.”

Archie, who had come up behind (Y/N) to surprise her, stopped in surprise.

“What?” he asked in disbelief. “(Y/N/N), you’ve never missed a movie night.”

The girl looked down at her shoes before shrugging, “Something came up Arch. I’m sorry.”

Veronica and Archie stood together as (Y/N) walked away. As she turned the corner, they were joined by Betty and Jughead.

“So what’s up with her?” Veronica asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

“You guys noticed it too?” replied Betty.

“How could we not?” exclaimed Archie. “She’s never acted this way before. I mean, missing out on movie night?”

“We have to find out what’s wrong,” Veronica said.

The three friends grew silent at Veronica’s words, thinking of a plan. All at once, they turned to Jughead, who was distractedly staring down the hallway where (Y/N) had disappeared from.

Feeling their stares, Jughead turned slowly.

“Oh no. I am not getting involved in your little plan.”

Betty, Veronica, and Archie all smiled at each other.

~~~

The smell of alcohol reached (Y/N)’s nostrils before she even opened the door to the apartment, only getting stronger when she managed to unlock it. She quietly made her way to her room, not wanting to wake up her father who was sleeping on the couch (he had quite the temper), and quickly changed into her work uniform.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” the slurring made her father’s speech nearly unintelligible and (Y/N) felt her blood run cold at the sound of it.

“Work,” she muttered, turning around.

Her father stood before her, bottle of his favorite drink in hand. He leaned heavily against the wall and it didn’t take a genius to see that he was heavily inebriated.

“Why? You should be doing homework, not wasting time like the failure you are,” he stumbled forwards with every word, approaching her as though he was a lion and she, his prey.

(Y/N) felt the tears stinging her eyes but willed herself not to cry. “I have to go dad.”

She made her way out the door only to be stopped by a loud sound next to her. He had thrown his bottle at her. Flinching, she grabbed her bag and ran, ignoring the drunken slurs her father called out after her.

~~~

“Oh dear, what happened to you?” Gladys, (Y/N)’s boss, asked as she walked into work.

Chuckling, (Y/N) answered, “I work in the south side Gladys. Shit happens.”

Gladys flinched at her use of profanity but laughed lightly. “You really should be more careful (Y/N).”

(Y/N) swallowed heavily before looking away, feeling guilty for lying to someone as amazing as Gladys. Gladys gently ran her hand over (Y/N)’s collarbone, which was now marked with a bright, angry cut, courtesy of her father’s liquor bottle.

“What happened?” Gladys asked once more.

Maybe it was the stress of it all. Or the feeling of not being perfect anymore. Or maybe it was just the fact that Gladys was so damn kind that (Y/N) found her tears falling, sobbing when Gladys gathered her up in her arms. Gladys was the only one who knew about her situation. The only one who didn’t judge. They stayed like that for a while, pulling apart when they heard the bell jingle, indicating that someone has just walked in.

“C’mon he’s giving you another chance dad,” a boy’s voice called out.

“Gladys!” another voice called out.

“Dad just listen-”

“No! He fired me. I’m not going to crawl back to him- Oh hey Gladys.”

The bickering pair quieted down when Gladys and (Y/N) stepped into their view.

“FP! What brings you here?” Gladys asked, smile on her face.

(Y/N) stayed behind the counter. ‘FP? As in Jones? What’s he doing here?’ she thought to herself. He hadn’t come around in a long time. She surreptitiously glanced at his companion, gasping when she recognized Jughead. Quickly, ducking under the counter, she racked her brain for an excuse to leave early.

She could faintly hear FP and Gladys’s conversation, but she could clearly hear the footsteps wandering around the shop. She felt her eyes widen almost comically when Gladys called out for her.

“(Y/N/N) dear! I need your help!”

There was no avoiding this. Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) carefully got up and made her way over to Gladys.

“Hey (Y/N/N),” FP grinned as he saw her. “Glad to see you’re still around.”

“Hey FP,” she replied.

“Oh (Y/N),” Gladys said. “FP finally brought his boy around. He’s your age.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach twist as FP called Jughead over. All her hard work was going to be lost in a matter of seconds.

“Hey Jug!” FP said loudly. “I wasn’t you to meet on of the best workers I’ve ever met.”

Jughead looked uninterested as he hummed, looking around the shop with curiosity.

“This,” FP continued, “Is little miss-”

“(Y/N)?” Jughead interrupted as his eyes landed on you. FP and Gladys looked at both of them in shock.

“Hey Jughead,” she weakly replied.

~~~

“So she was working in south side?” Betty asked skeptically. Jughead nodded.

“That’s nuts. Why would she be working there of all places?” Archie questioned.

Jughead breathed in deeply before looking around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. “So apparently…”

~~~

Jughead told them everything. The way she had looked at him (like a deer caught in headlights), the cut on her collarbone (concerning everyone), her quick getaway (with tears running down her face), and most of all, all the information he got from Gladys (’Of course I’ll tell you. Maybe her friends can help her.’).

“Well Jug,” Archie said, breaking the silence. “Looks like you did go through with our plan after all.”

They all glared at Archie.

~~~

(Y/N) was having a good day. She hadn’t gone to school and he father was out doing god-knows-what. She had the apartment to herself. Or at least she did, until she heard a knock on the door.

Jughead felt horrible. What kind of friends had they all been? Not once had they noticed (Y/N)’s struggles, they were always too absorbed in their own problems. They all felt guilty but Jughead felt that he should be the one to talk to her, since he had found out first. Nervously, he breathed in and knocked on her apartment door.

It swung open to reveal a disheveled (Y/N), still in shorts and tank, with a messily placed Band-Aid upon her collarbone.

She glanced at him and proceeded to shut the door, only for Jughead to stop it with his foot and push his way inside. They stood face-to-face for a few minutes, studying each other cautiously.

“C’mon,” Jughead broke the silence, brushing his fingertips along her injury. “lets go get this cleaned up.”

~~~

(Y/N) sat nervously on her bed, trying to stay still as Jughead cleaned up her injury.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he whispered. She looked away.

“You guys have so much to worry about with Jason’s murder and Archie’s things and Veronica’s dad-” she was cut off.

“But that’s not nearly as important as this,” Jughead continued. “You should’ve told us. We could’ve helped.”

“How?” (Y/N) asked. “You already live with Archie. Veronica and her mom are housing Polly and frankly, I don’t think the Coopers like me very much.”

Jughead stayed quiet, carefully applying a new Band-Aid after making sure that the cut wasn’t infected.

“You should’ve told us (Y/N/N),” he finally said.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she waved off his words. “We had more important things to deal with Jug.”

Jughead felt his heart break at her words. “No we didn’t (Y/N). You are important. We care about you. You should’ve at least let us know.”

You are important.’ Jughead’s words replayed in (Y/N)’s head, bringing tears to her eyes. Jughead gathered her in his arms as she began crying softly.

“Thank you Jughead,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Jughead found himself admiring her strength. “Don’t keep things from us anymore. Please.”

She nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Jughead noticed (Y/N) had fallen asleep.

“Good night,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her head as he made sure she was comfortable in his arms.

~~~

When Archie, Betty, and Veronica arrived a few hours later, they were pleasantly surprised to see Jughead lying on (Y/N)’s bed, asleep, with the (H/C) girl curled up in his arms. Quickly snapping a few pictures (because ‘ohmygod how cute are they’) they decided to let them rest, setting up camp in the living room and waiting for them to wake up, vowing to never let any of their friends go through hard times alone ever again.

~~~

Yeaaaa, I didn’t know how to end this and it’s more of a core four x reader than just Juggie. I’M SORRY!

I hope it’s alright and that it met your expectations.

Also asks/requests are open and if you wanna be on the tag list just tell me :)

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

~~~

Tag List: @blisshbee, @wisestydia14, @cleohalestilinski, @do-somethinglovely, @divastar777, @localagoraphobic, @gabiwella, @loveinfxnitelyx, @kanye—west, @unicornqueen05, @that1chic-xoxo, @melinadufort, @casismyguardianangel, @rxggie-mxntle, @demigodofthesun, @katshrev, @professionalphangirluniverse, @jugheads-lawyer, @cyberfoxlili, @iwannadiehere, @lostinpercyseyes, @millygwiazda, @theselfishllama, @pegacorn24, @apocalypticangell, @fandomsrlove, @mcheung0314, @fangites, @isabellaskyliner, @nooneshoney, @itsjaynebird, @fandomsandotherstuff, @xbobaaa

Sunday Afternoon

Characters: Clint x Reader

Summary: For the past few months you have noticed a change in your relationship with a certain Avenger and you can’t help but wonder if this is the end.

Word Count:  1324 words

Prompt: Tell Me On A Sunday

Originally posted by deedeethegirl

There wasn’t a moment that you could point at and say ‘there, that was when things changed’, it was just a gradual ebbing away but once you had seen it you couldn’t ‘unsee’ it.  In fact, you had begun to wonder if the others had noticed, if you had been the last one to see.  Sitting on the roof of the compound you didn’t even turn when you heard footsteps approach which you knew were his.  He sat down next to you and a silence enfolded you both for a few moments.  “We need to talk.” His four words pierced through the quiet and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you knew was coming.

You had been wondering how he would break the news, that he didn’t love you anymore, that this relationship was dead.  It made sense that he would tell you face to face.  He wasn’t the type of guy who would simply send a text message or slide a post it note under your door.  He wasn’t Tony.  The long ‘Dean John’ letter would be more Bucky’s thing, possibly Steve. Yeah, Steve hated seeing any pain he caused people.  He would probably start to tell a girl to her face and almost instantly change his mind and stay in the relationship for a few more weeks before he found the courage to break her heart.  You wouldn’t want a letter.  Words deliberately captured permanently on paper for you to go over and analyses, causing the pain to stab at your heart over and over again.  No.  You were glad this wasn’t a letter.  It also wasn’t the drunken 3am call from a friends house, which was Scotts method. Not only did the poor girl get dumped but she also had to deal with being woken up!  You would much rather be sat out in the sun, looking down on Wanda and Vision playing catch while Steve and Bucky leaned on the fence laughing.  The reminder that even though your life was about to fall apart at the seams everything else just carried on as normal. Just a typical Sunday afternoon.

You look over at Clint and see he is looking out over the scene below with a sense of detachment and you look up at the clouds that lazily made their way through the bright azure sky.  There wasn’t going to be a big argument, no deep conversation where you went into the whys and wherefores of the situation.  You knew he was searching for a way to let you down easy, to lessen the blow.  Here was the man you loved with every fiber of your being trying to find the kindest way of saying goodbye and if your heart wasn’t already breaking that sure as hell would have done it.  

It wasn’t as if you had been fighting more recently.  Sure, there were your usual squabbles about nothing much but it was the silence that had been the scary thing to realise. Those moments when you would walk into a room where he was deep in conversation with Nat and they would both clam up as soon as they noticed you.  Those moments just before sleep where once you would have discussed your day were now filled with a void of wordlessness leaving you to drift off into an uneasy sleep.  The silence between you was suffocating.  Where once you had found it easy to talk to him about everything now you struggled to find anything to say.

Then there were the times he would go off on a mission without waking you to say goodbye.  Of course, when he returned he had said he just didn’t want to wake you when you’d been having such trouble sleeping and his explanation made sense but… you couldn’t help thinking about how you would have felt if he hadn’t come back, if you hadn’t had the chance to tell him you loved him one last time.  It hit you that from this moment on you would never that that opportunity ever again and unshed tears blurred your vision.

Other couples would have made this moment into a dramatic spectacle, pulled everyone into the scene with slammed doors and thrown wine bottles. You two weren’t destined for a dramatic goodbye.  No running off in the pouring rain or last minute calls from the airport as one of you left never to return.  No. For you it would be a beautifully sunny Sunday afternoon as the light breeze ruffled the leaves of the nearby trees and Sam glided through the air trying out his latest adjustments.  Clint took a deep breath and turned to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

Keep reading

Hoseok; 

-the two of you would be drinking, you were a complete lightweight and got drunk rather easily- 

*as he carried you to your room, laying you down on the bed; you delicately wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer* 
“Y/n, sweet pea, what are you doing you need to sleep.” 
*just them you press your lips against his and sweet mutter an I love you; his heart would practically leap out of his chest, but he’d try not to think much of it because you’d been drinking* 
“Just sleep y/n, you need your rest.” 

Originally posted by goldenjungs

Namjoon; 

-after getting your drunken call; he’d rush to go get you from the bar you were at- 

*immediately after getting you into the car, he’d scold you* 
“Y/n you can’t be doing that, do you know how badly you worry me?” “If you’re going to drink-” 
*you’d suddenly cut him off as you interlocked your hand with his, resting your head on his shoulder- the moment you’d tell him, you little confession would have him in complete disbelief* 
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

Originally posted by yoonseok

Jimin; 

-after having a few drink with you and the others, the two of you would end up on the couch, cuddling-

*he had feelings for you for a while now, but never knew how to say it; the moment you uttered out your confession, his already flushed cheeks would turn bright red as he held you tighter* 
“I love you, too, y/n..” “Even if you’re just saying it because you’re drunk.. I still love you with all my heart.” 

Originally posted by bwipsul

Jin; 

-neither one of you really drank too much, ever, so the mixed drinks the two of you decided to have after dinner got to you both rather fast- 

*he’d be laughing already to some dad joke he told minutes before when you’d suddenly confess to him* 
“Yah, why are you saying that?” 
*commence the nervous, unsure laughter* 

Originally posted by jinmini

Yoongi; 

-since he’d be more of a heavyweight when it came to drinking, he’d end up being your caregiver the entire; just making sure you didn’t you’d regret- 

*walking you to your room, he’d lay you in bed and tuck you in when you’d suddenly start crying* 
“Why are you crying, y/n?” “What’s wrong?” 
*you’d suddenly practically beg for him to hold you as you confessed to him; sitting himself on the edge of your bed, he’d gently rub your back until you fell asleep, thinking about your heartfelt words the entire time* 

Originally posted by jeonbase

Jungkook; 

-after a long night of annoying his hyungs with your combined loudness as the two of you drank; you’d end up hooking up with him- 

*right after finishing, he’d pull you in his arms and tenderly stroke your hair when you’d bury your face into his chest and sleepily mutter I love you* 
“Really, y/n? You love me?” 
*leaning down, kissing your forehead as a silent confession for his own feelings towards you* 

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

Taehyung; 

-the two of you would be at the bar with the others, just enjoying a few drinks with them before both of you decided to head back to the dorm first- 

*on the car drive there, the two of you sat in the back together as one of their staff members drove y’all back to the dorm- without warning, you’d lay your head on his lap, lightly grasping his hand* 
“Wh- What are you doing, y/n?” 
*you’d immediately drop the bomb, drunkily pouring your heart out to him as he ran his fingers through your hair; an adorable boxy smile would paint across his face while staring down at you* 
“I love you too, sweet girl.” “I always have.” 

Originally posted by taesies

Masterlist

Here’s a list of all my work so far in one easy to find place! Hopefully, this works, I’ve been having problems getting the links to work.

*          *          *          *          *

AJ STYLES

Choices: Part 1 – AJ’s girlfriend works behind the scenes on SmackDown. The two have always kept personal and professional separate but when AJ’s emotions get the best of him, and he decides to confront Shane in the parking lot, will he lose more than just his job? Angst.

Choices: Part 2 – AJ attacks Shane in the parking lot even after you begged him not to. You confront him, and he has to face the consequences of his actions. Angst.

Choices: Part 3 – AJ catches a bartender flirting with his now ex-girlfriend, and his jealous side comes out as he tries to win her back. Angst. Smut.   WARNING-Daddy Kink.


BARON CORBIN

Nerves -  Baron is going to dinner with your parents for the first time, and he’s extremely nervous at your house. Fluff.

Space – You and Baron are dating, and you have to kiss AJ Styles as part of a romantic storyline for TV. You get into a fight and break up, and then he sees you with another Superstar. His jealous side comes out, and smut ensues. Angst. Smut.

Just a Friend – You and Baron have been friends for years but when you bump into an ex-boyfriend, will Baron’s true feelings for you come out? Fluff.


DEAN AMBROSE

Drunken Calls – You and Dean are best friends, and he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s drunk and needs someone to come pick him up. The following morning Dean’s true feelings come out. Slight angst. Smut. Then Fluff.

Come Find Her – Baron makes his feud with Dean personal by kidnapping the one person that means everything to Dean, his girlfriend.

What’s the Magic Word – Dean comes over to your place for a movie night. It’s his turn to pick the movie, and he chooses a horror movie. The two of you wrestle over the remote on the couch. Short but fluffy.

I’m Sorry – Dean sees Roman kiss you on the cheek, and his jealous side comes out. Dean snaps at you and makes you cry, and he tries to make it better. Make-up sex ensues. Angst. Fluff.

You Love Her - You and Dean are riding with Roman and his wife. Roman catches a cute moment between you and Dean in the car and asks Dean if he loves you. Dean admits he’s fallen hard for you.


FINN BALOR

Don’t Let Go – You and Finn go to a water park with some other superstars. There’s a scary ride, and you’re nervous, but Finn assures you that he will be right there. Fluff

Go Home - You and Finn get into a fight and you go to your parents’ house for the night. Finn waits outside all night to try and win your heart back. Fluff. 


SETH ROLLINS

Just a Dream – You have a bad dream about Seth leaving you and can’t fall back asleep. You call him, and he calms you down until you fall asleep. Fluff.


TJ PERKINS

More Than Friends – You and TJ have been friends for as long as you can remember. You’ve liked TJ as more than a friend, but he’s never given you any reason to think he feels the same. You plan a date, and when TJ finds out, he tells you his real feelings. Fluff.

crying over a porcelain sink at your aunt’s house,
tears and blood draining,
angry at everything.

not being able to speak
to the only friend you have left
because you can’t find the words,
     there are none.

nothing musical lives in you anymore,
she came in and ripped away the melodies
and harmonies you had in your heart.

broken-hearted and bloody-nosed,
you realize while looking at someone
who resembles yourself in the mirror -
     you’ve lost it all.

nothing, nothing, nothing.
you are nothing,
you mean nothing,
     you are nothing.

this wouldn’t happen
if you’d love someone who loved you back,
this wouldn’t happen
if you weren’t stupid enough to follow people
who kick wishing flowers in the spring.

you wrote about broken hearts like you knew,
and you did.
but you never wrote about someone
who not only broke you,
but ground the bits of glass skin and veins into dust.

echoes of voices telling you to cut deeper
and find yourself again
are drowning out everything you know.
every day you are struggling, every day you grow weak.

wind whispers to the empty cavern below your rib cage,
     where are you?
     what’s happened?
     oh! - what have you done?

your hands shake a little too much,
you can’t keep food down.
you are sick, but the only thing the
people around you say is
     do better.

you leave the house at night
to find something to escape to,
and feel a flicker of something old there.
so you do it again, and again,
and your mom loses her trust with you.

soon
     i love you’s
     turn into i don’t know you’s
and you cry and scream into a pillow late at night -
realizing that even the maps back to who you are
are distorted.

you are nothing but bad decisions
and drunken phone calls at 2 AM
to people who would rather be fucking a pretty girl
who knows what she’s doing.

when your best friend tells you
that you are the thing that haunts your dreams,
you realize you are truly something malicious.

when she leaves, all you remember from her
are her dissatisfied eyes, and embarrassment
of your fumbled words and miscalculated actions.

the only thing you seem to hear anymore
reverberates in your skull and turns into a grand crescendo
of despair when you are alone,
     you didn’t matter.

you can’t escape it, you learn she is right.
you dispose of yourself, and try to outrun
the dark things her heart let into yours
when you so stupidly opened up the iron gates.

sometimes, most times, it does not work.
you are devoured by those creatures with
skeletal hands and the stench of death leaking from them.

every moment before a reckless action
is made, you remember that
you are nothing,
you’ve become nothing,
     and you’ve done it to yourself.

then you free fall into something
with knives and swords,
and twist and turn and thrash to hold onto something tangible,
but simply end up with cuts and blood
and a sinking feeling.

MASTERLIST

A.S. (no longer a writer)
Interruptions (Luke)
One Minute (Ashton)
Best Friend with Benefits (Calum)
One Minute Pt. 2 (Ashton)

L (on hiatus)
Attention (Michael)
Preview Pt.1 (Calum)
Preview Pt.2 (Calum)
High (Calum/Ashton)
Repeating History (Ashton)
Under Your Skin (Michael)
Rocket (Luke)
Ride/Get Stoned (All)
It’s a Love Hate Thing (Michael)
Morning (Ashton)
Snowed In (Ashton)
Breaking Your Record (Luke)
Roomies (MichaelxY/NxGirl)
Pre-Wedding Rituals (Luke)
After The Wedding (Luke)
Making Up Time (Calum)
Birthday Sex (Luke)
Can’t Compare (Michael)
Video Games (Michael)
Clumsy (Michael)


MICHAELA (no longer a writer)
Drunken Calls and Needy Kisses (Michael)
Untitled (Luke)
Anything to Make You Happy (Ashton)
Bad Boy, Good Lips (Luke)
Can You Show Me? (Calum)
Awkward (Ashton)
Love You More (Calum)
Home Alone (Calum)
Making Up for Lost Time (Luke)
For The First Time (Michael)
Smash (Ashton)
Three’s A Party (Calum/Luke)

LOLA
Except One Thing (Calum)
Chemistry (Ashton)
I Like It When You’re Wet (Calum)
Pre-Game Rituals (Ashton)
Late Night Drives (Ashton)
Late Night Suprise (Calum)
Lazy Sunday (Luke)
Cherkov (Michael)
Nameless, Shameless (LukexY/NxGirl)

RILEY
Loner (Luke)
Dare (Michael)
Everything About You (Ashton)
Baby Girl (Calum)

MARIA
Be Careful What You Wish For (Ashton)
More (Calum)
Locker Room Love (Michael)
Wake Me Up (Calum)

CARMEN
More Than Friends (Luke)
It’s Dark Next Door Pt. 1 (Ashton)
It’s Dark Next Door Pt. 2 (Ashton)
It’s Dark Next Door Pt. 3 (Ashton)
Lay the Seat Back, Lock the Doors (Luke)
Save It For the Bedroom (Luke)
High on You (Ashton)

JESSICA
Show Me (Luke)
I Hate Surprises (CalumxY/NxGirl)

RANDOM SUBMISSIONS
Probably (Luke)
Theif (Michael)
Something New (Ashton)
Everything (Calum)
Keep It On (Michael)
Official (Luke)
Longer Than 7 Minutes (Ashton)
Vampire Money (Michael)

#1 - What went wrong?

This is going to be series. I don’t know how long or where the series is heading. Just making it up as I go. I’ll try to edit and add chapter links as I go to each post. 

Also, any text that are in italics are in the past and the rest are in the present form.

Friday, 2nd June 2017

You and Jay have been dating for nearly a year and the anniversary was in two weeks. Both of you agreed not to do anything super fancy but to keep it on the down low. You came up with the idea of a home-cooked dinner, because Jay was always working and he usually has take-out, then a movie, play some PS4 games or watch Youtube videos afterwards. Simple. However, you thought it was too simple and worried Jay would not be happy. 

You: So what do you think of the plan? Too simple? Should we do something else?

Jay: Nah it’s fine. I love it. It’s going to be a hectic two week so I can’t wait for it to be to over so we can chill. Just the two of us.

Sunday, 4th June 2017

It was 2am and Jay was still working at the office. AOMG was going on tour next month and he had a tonne of things to do. Paperwork, rehearsals and such. You haven’t spoken to him since Friday night nor had you seen him since. 

If he’s busy he’ll leave super early and stay out till the early morning of the next day. He would sometimes sleep at the office. You wondered what he had to do that required him to stay up so late. But you didn’t want to ask because of what happened several months ago.

Jay: I told you! I had to finish the song, finish the choreograph and I had meetings back to back. Do you expect me to live a stress-free life like you? You can sleep till 11am without a worry. And why the fuck are you asking me these questions? Do you think I’m fucking cheating on you or something? 

You: Omg! I get it. You’re busy and I admire you for looking after your company. But what about Simon? Why don’t you give him some of your stuff to do so you can lighten your workload. And I don’t think that you are. I’m fucking worried, Jay. Worried you’re not getting enough sleep. It’s not healthy, you know. 

Jay: Simon has other things to worry about and I want things done in particular ways. Look, I have an early meeting tomorrow. I’m going to bed. 

You: You haven’t had dinner yet. Get something to eat first. Doesn’t have to be big. A banana maybe? 

Jay: I’m not hungry. 

Without saying anything else he walked off to the second bedroom and slammed it shut. Whenever the both of you got into an argument he would always sleep in the second bedroom. 

This wasn’t the first time you both had argument regarding Jay’s work life. There had been many during the first months of dating. But somehow, both of you found a way to reconcile and make up. And it worked. For the next month or so. Then his work life would come up and the whole cycle would start again.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go on that first date with Jay. You knew of all the consequences and what you had to deal with. Lonely nights, unanswered phone calls, drunken nights, girls, forgotten voicemails and forgotten special occasions. There were times when you had enough and just wanted to get out. Leave. Leave him behind. But you couldn’t. You love him too much.

Monday, 5th June 2017

Jay finally picked up the phone when you called him on Monday. He sounded tired.

Jay: Hey.

You: Hey. Um how are you?

Jay: Alright. I’m at the office.

You say “ok” but it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear it.

Jay: Hey look, I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you. But you know, work and shit.

You didn’t know what to say without starting an argument. So you don’t say anything. You wait for him.

 A minute or so passed and he didn’t say anything. Maybe he was waiting for you so you bit your lip and said “It’s okay. You should um get back to it then. Bye.” And ended the phone call.

You threw your phone on the bed and stepped into the bathroom to get ready. You were meeting up with your friends for brunch later. Once you were ready to go out, you saw Jay’s cologne on your vanity. You picked it up and sprayed it into the air. The cologne slowly disappeared and you stood there, eyes closed, inhaling the smell. 

gimme a plot where … basically, muse a is this corrupted soul, always drinking too much, getting too high, they can barely function and muse b is basically their saving grace, always coming through in the middle of the night after a drunken phone call asking for a ride home. and muse b only does this because they’re a good person at heart, but they can’t deny that muse a’s actions actually disgusts them. but they’ve known each other for too long and muse b always promised they’d never let muse a down, because they know they’re the only thing that’s STABLE in their life. and this has become their routine, muse a texting/calling muse b when something goes wrong and muse b coming around to rescue them. there’s not much to their friendship beside that, these days, because muse a doesn’t really acknowledge them otherwise. and muse b just settles with the fact that they’re being used, but they can’t bear to leave muse a alone, knowing that they probably wouldn’t survive without them … but then ONE NIGHT, when muse b is carrying muse a into bed, tucking them in like they usually do and they’re about ready to say goodnight until muse a, who is completely out of their mind intoxicated, mumbles something barely audible that sounds a lot like ‘i love you.’ muse b thinks to brush it off, until muse a continues professing all these FEELINGS like ‘i really fucking love you, please, don’t leave me tonight’ and muse b is just STUCK. because muse a is so bad for them but muse b is the only good thing in their life … so they stay. 

Drunken Calls

Summary: You and Dean are best friends and he calls you in the middle of the night when he is drunk and needs someone to come pick him up. It’s always been just friendship between the two of you but the following morning the truth comes out.

WARNINGS: Smut. Some language. And a little bit of fluff at the end.

*             *             *             *

You heard your phone ringing on the bedside table. You groaned as you reached up and rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at the clock on the table. 2:14 AM. Who would be calling you at this time of the night?

You reached over and picked up your phone. You groaned when you say the name on the screen. Dean.

You slid your thumb to the right and then brought the phone to your ear.

“You better be dying.” You said, knowing that usually when he calls this late he’s drunk and just wants to ramble.

“Y-y/n. I-I n-need h-help.” He slurred.

You immediately sat up on the edge of the bed as you began to panic. He needed help. What had happened? Did he get in a fight? Did he get hurt? He never called and said he needed help. Ever.

This wasn’t the first time he’d gone out and gotten too drunk to find his way back to the hotel, but it was the first time he had ever said he needed help.. And unfortunately for you, you were the only person he thought to call when he was that drunk. Not Roman or one of the guys. It was you. Always you.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?” You asked.

“Ummm…”

“Dean where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” You said.

“S-some bar down…down the s-street.” He mumbles. “Y-you’re such a n-nice friend…all caring a-and funny and stuff…do you want me to c-come pick y-you up?”

“No! Dean, stay where you are! I’m coming to pick you up!

"Okay…whatever you say b-babe.”

You rolled your eyes at the word, knowing it was because he was drunk. The truth was that you’ve had feelings for Dean for a couple of months. But he didn’t know that. Nobody knew that, not even the girls. He didn’t need to know that. You knew he wasn’t the kind of guy to settle down. You had even heard him tell Roman that he didn’t want a girlfriend. If you told him that you had feelings it would ruin the friendship and he’d probably never talk to you again.

You threw on an oversized sweatshirt and slid on some shoes. You grabbed your keys and purse off the TV stand and then hurried down to the hotel parking lot where your rental car was parked. You slid in behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.

You made your way down the street slowly looking on both sides for any sign of your best friend.

You drove slowly as you glanced towards both sides of the street, looking for any sign of your best friend in front of any of the bars. You finally saw him in front of a bar about six blocks from the hotel. You silently cursed to yourself when you saw him chest to chest with some other guys outside, looking like they were about to get into a fight.

You quickly pulled the car over and put it in park before getting out of the car and running over to the two of them.

“You wanna say that again? Huh?” Dean said as he moved even closer to the guy.

“What? That you’re crazy? Maybe they should send you back to the insane asylum?” The guy challenged.

You couldn’t let Dean get into a fight with a fan. It would be all over the internet and you knew there’d be consequences for Dean to face with WWE if he got into a fight with a fan.

You stepped in between the two of them and put your hands on Dean’s chest, pushing him a few steps back.

“Y/n s-stay out of t-this.” He said as he kept his eyes locked on the guy behind you.

“Dean get in the car!” You said.

“Yeah Ambrose…listen to your little girlfriend…get in the car.” The man said.

“You little-” Dean snarled.

“Dean. Car. Now” You said loudly as you pointed towards your rental car.

“But he-”

“I don’t care. Go to the car! You’re drunk!” You said.

“Yeah, you’re drunk. Why don’t you go to the car?” You heard the guy behind you say.

“Excuse me darlin’.” Dean said as he stepped around you and landed a solid right hook straight to the right side of the guy’s face. The guy immediately fell to a knee, obviously caught off guard by the punch.

“Dean no!” You yelled trying to grab his arm. But he was quick. He leaned down and swung and landed a second shot to the guy’s jaw.

“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Dean yelled.

You grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him back with all the strength you had in you. You managed to get enough space for you to slide yourself in between the two of them. You then reached up and put your hands on Dean’s chest and tried to push him further away.

“Dean go to the car. Now.” You said angrily, doing your best to look as intimidating as possible.

“Okay darlin’. Whatever you say.” Dean said as he took a few steps back. He had a proud smirk on his face as he cracked his knuckles like the fight was just beginning if he had anything to say about it.

Are you fucking kidding me? You thought to yourself.

He had caused a huge scene and drawn quite a crowd in front of the bar. And he was proud of himself for it.

“Are you kidding me Dean?” You asked.

“What?” He asked with a shrug.

“Get in the car before I make you walk back.” You said, annoyed with his cockiness.

You expected some smart ass remark, but he did as you asked and turned towards the car without a word. However, he stumbled over his feet after two steps and almost ran into a pole that was near by.

You sighed and walked over to him and threw your arm around his torso to help lead him to the car. He slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks, darlin’.” He mumbled.

“You’re welcome, Dean.” You said.

You helped him slide into the front seat before you walked around the front of the car and slid in behind the wheel. You turned the car around and headed back towards your hotel.

You were about a block from the bar when Dean started rambling.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He said as he looked over at you.

“Dean you’re drunk.”

“I might be a tad bit drunk, but I…I know a beautiful woman when I see one.” You blushed at his compliment, but tried not to let it go to your head too much. He didn’t mean it. He was drunk and probably didn’t even know what he was saying. He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

You pulled back into the parking lot and turned your car off. You walked around the car and as soon as Dean stepped out he threw his arm around your shoulders.

“You’re such a good friend, Y/n.” He said.

“You would do it for me if the shoe was on the other foot.” You said.

“Hell yes I would. Anytime you need me, I’ll be here, okay?” He said.

“What room are you in?” You asked.

“Um…fuck I don’t remember. Three something?” He said as he scratched the back of his head

“You know what I have two beds in my room. You can take the spare.” You said.

“Thanks babe.”

You led him into the elevator and pushed the button for your floor. The ride to the fourth floor was quiet between the two of you. The only sound that could be heard was Dean’s breathing.

The doors opened and you stepped out with Dean leaning on you for support. He was heavy, but you were determined to make it down the hallway to your room. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your key card and slid it into the slot.

You opened the door and helped Dean over to the first bed, that was still perfectly made from housekeeping. He immediately fell onto his back and just looked up at the ceiling.

“I love you.” He said.

You thought at first you didn’t hear him right. He loved you? Then you realized he just meant he loved you as a friend.

“I love you too Dean. You’re my best friend, you know that.” You said.

“No. I mean I love you love you.” He said.

Your heart stopped. Did he really just say that? did you heard him right?

“Dean, you don’t mean-”

“But I do. I’ve loved ya forever. I just could never tell you.” He said.

“Dean, you’re drunk.”

“And drunk people tell the truth. You’re the only person that’s always there for me. Nobody else would’ve come down there and drug my ass back here. But you did.” He said.

“It’s what friends do, Dean.” You said.

“I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Y/n. You know why I punched that guy? Cause he was talkin’ about you. Nobody talks about you when I’m around.” He said.

“Dean, you need to go to sleep.” You said.

“I can’t sleep…will you come lay with me darlin’?” He asked.

You stood there as he looked over at you. He didn’t look like the strong, brave, care-free man you saw in the ring. He looked scared and vulnerable.

“Okay.” You said with a sigh after tossing around the idea in your head for a few minutes. “Just let me change, okay? You should probably get into something more comfortable too.”

You went into the bathroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before walking out of the bathroom. Dean was laying on top of the covers in just his boxers when you walked out. His shirt and jeans being discarded on the floor next to him. You crawled into the bed next to Dean and then reached over and turned the light off.

“Thank you for puttin up with me.” Dean said as he reached over and put his arm around your waist.

“You’re welcome Dean.” You said.

*             *             *             *

You woke up the following morning and looked over at Dean. His lips were slightly parted and soft snores were escaping. He still had his arm around your waist, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You carefully slid his arm off of you, trying your best not to wake him up.

You showered and then got dressed for the day. You opened your purse and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol you kept in there in case you needed it. You poured two pills into your hand and then set them on the bedside table next to Dean along with a glass of water.

You headed down to the complimentary breakfast to get you and Dean some food.

“Hey have you seen Dean? He never came home last night.” Roman asked as he approached you.

“Yeah. He’s upstairs sleeping. He called me and I went and got him.” You said.

“Thank god. I was afraid he was passed out somewhere…thank you for going and getting him.” He said.

“Of course. I couldn’t just leave him there.” You said.

“I don’t know what he’d do without you, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve a friend like you.” He said.

Friend. That word flashed in your head. Is that what you were to Dean? Or were you more? Would he wake up and forget what he said last night?

“You okay?” Roman asked as he noticed you spacing out.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” You said as you shook off the thoughts.

You grabbed some food for yourself and Dean and then headed back up to your room. You opened the door as quietly as posisble so that you wouldn’t wake Dean up. Once you were inside the room, you saw him sitting up on the side of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

“You okay?” You asked.

His head popped up and he turned to look at you. His lips curved into a small smile when he saw the food in your hands.

“I…I thought you left.” He said.

“Just to go get some food.” You said as you handed him the plate of pancakes you had made for him.

“Thanks.” He said as he took it from you. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For?”

“Last night. Waking you up and making you come get me in the middle of the night.”

“That’s what friends are for. I couldn’t just leave you there.” You said.

“Most people would’ve.” He said.

“Well I’m not most people.” You said. “I’m your friend. I care about you. I worry about you.”

It was silent between the two of you for a few minutes as you took small bites of the muffin you had gotten for yourself. You noticed that Dean hadn’t touched his pancakes.

“I thought you liked pancakes.” You said.

“I do…I’m just not hungry.” He said.

“Why?” You asked. “You’re always hungry.”

“My head hurts.”

“Take the Tylenol. It’ll help.” You said motioning to the two white pills sitting beside him on the table.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Last night. When I said I loved you, I meant it.” He said.

“Dean-”

“Please. Just give me a chance. I swear to God I’ll show you how much you mean to me. I’ll show you that I can be a half-way decent man. Just give me a chance. I can’t…I can’t keep just being your friend. It’s killin’ me.”

You were terrified. Terrified of being with Dean. What if it didn’t work out? What if you broke up? You wouldn’t be able to go back to just being his friend. You would lose him. You didn’t know if you could handle losing him.

“You have to tell me what you’re thinking.” He said as his eyes stared into yours.

“I’m scared.” You said softly.

“Scared of what, babe?” He asked as he reached out and took your hand.

“What if…what if it doesn’t work? What if we end up hating each other? I don’t want to lose you-”

“You’re not gonna lose me. No matter what, darlin’. You won’t lose me. Come here.” He said as he pulled you into his arms. You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He held you tight in his arms. You felt your eyes start to water as all the emotions you were feeling hit you.

Dean let go of you and reached up to cup your cheek with his hand. That was when he noticed your watery eyes.

“Aww, c'mon darlin’, don’t be cryin’ on me.” He said.

“I’m sorry…I can’t…I can’t help it.” You said as you tried to control your emotions.

You felt a tear escape and he wiped it away with his thumb.

“I won’t make you do nothin’ you don’t want to. If you just want to be my friend, then that’s what we’ll be.” He said.

“But I don’t want to hurt you.” You said.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He said.

“I do love you, Dean. I want to be more than your friend, but I’m scared.” You said.

“I’m scared too, love. This is all new for me. But I want to try it. We can figure it out together. Whenever you get scared just come to me, okay? I’ll wrap you in my arms…” he said as he pulled you back into his arms.

“And then I’ll do this…” he said before he leaned in and pressed his lips to your temple.

“And then I’ll tell you that I’m right here and that everything is going to be okay.”

He then reached up and cupped your face in his hands. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his lips moved with yours. It was the kind of kiss you read about in books. The ones where you get butterflies and feel like there’s fireworks going off in the background. It was everything a kiss should be and more.

You pulled away to catch your breath and Dean leaned his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” He said softly.

“I love you too.” You said.

He then leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again. This time it was much more needy. He was rougher this time.

He ran one hand through your hair as the other slid down to your lower back to push you flat against his body. Your hands ran down his chest, feeling the muscles contract against your fingertips as they made their path.

You hesitated when you reached the top of his boxers.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked as he pulled away from the kiss, noticing your hesitation.

“Yes.” You said.

“Then take ‘em off baby.” He said.

You swallowed a lump in your throat before hooking your fingers into the waistband and sliding them down. He lifted his hips to make it easier for you to get them off.

“You need to take a few layers off.” He said as his lips moved from your throat to your neck.

His hands gripped the bottom of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head. He then hooked his fingers into the band of your sweatpants and slid them down to the ground.

“Fuck.” He said as his eyes ran over your exposed body.

You leaned in and pressed your lips back to his as your hands came up to play with the hair on the back of his neck.

“How long have you loved me?” You asked.

“As long as I can remember” He said as he began to suck on the soft spot below your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.

“Didn’t think I had a shot. A guy with a background like mine and a girl like you…they don’t belong together.”

You cut him off by reaching behind him and unclasping your bra. You slid it down your arms and then reached for your panties. You turned around and teasingly slid them down your legs, trying to look as sexy as possible.

You were caught off guard when you felt a sharp slap come down across your left butt cheek. You let out a small moan from the stinging slap.

“Waving it in front of my face like that…you were just asking for it to get smacked.” He said.

“Do it again.” You said.

You felt another sharp slap to the other cheek.

“Get over here baby.” He said as he reached out and put his hands on your hips. He then threw you onto the bed before he crawled over you.

He reached down and held his dick in his hands as he positioned it at your entrance.

“Should I tease you baby? Hmm…you’ve been teasing me with that perfect little ass for so long…maybe I should tease you?”

“No!” You groaned as you moved your hips up towards him.

“No?” He said with a smirk as he slowly circled his tip around your entrance.

“Please Dean.” You said. You needed some kind of contact with him. You were worked up and needed some kind of relief. Any kind of relief.

He pushed all the way into you and you let out a yelp, not expecting him to go all the way in on the first thrust.

His hands gripped your hips as he pulled out until just the tip was in before slamming back into you.

You heard a groan escape his lips as he thrusted a few more times.

“Dean.” You moaned.

“You like that baby?” He asked.

“Y-yes.” You moaned out.

Then you felt the tip of him hit that spot inside you.

“D-dean!” You yelled out.

“Right there?” He asked.

“Mmmhmmm.”

He thrusted a few more times and hit your spot every time.

You then felt the pad of his thumb begin to rub circles on your clit.

“F-fuck!” You breathed out!

“Come on darlin’…cum for me.” He said.

You felt yourself go over the edge and his lips came down to yours as he swallowed your moans with the kiss. You felt your body sahking as you came.

He pulled away from the kiss and you felt your body sink into the sheets and pillows.

Dean laid down next to you and gave you a lazy smile as he looked over at you.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” You said as your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to regret this, are you?” He asked with worried eyes.

“No. Are you?” You asked.

“Hello no. This was the best day of my life.” He said before he draped his arm across your bare stomach and pulled you closer to him.

He leaned in and pressed another kiss to your lips, this one more calm and gentle.

“I love you.” He whispered as he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours.

“I love you too.” You said.

“You’re mine, okay? Any time another guy looks at you, you tell them you’re mine.” He said.

“I’m yours!” You said before you leaned in and pressed another kiss to his lips.

Drunken Problems.

“Seb?!” you called out as you walked through the front door. You waited for a minute, listening for a reply, but you never got one. You leaned back against the door and ran your fingers through your hair, upset. You had walked into an empty house once again. You sighed, sat your bag down on the table and walked into the kitchen to get a drink. You opened the cabinet door and closed your eyes when you saw all your alcohol was gone. Sebastian must be in a bad mood. You closed them and grabbed a Coke out of the fridge, kicking your shoes off and letting them fly in whatever direction.

Keep reading

Broken | Hyungwon

Originally posted by hotseok

Warnings: Angst. I suck at it but I was feeling really sad. Strong/ inappropriate language. Implications of depression. Mentions/attempted suicide.


Your relationship started just as soon as you began to slip into a very dark place. He became your rock. The only person you could lean on, the only shoulder you could cry on, the only ear you wanted to listen. Hyungwon had fast become one of the most important people in your life. It was unhealthy how much you depended on him. You weren’t smiling if he wasn’t around you. You weren’t talking if it wasn’t to him. He was your only friend, everyone else had turned their backs to you claiming you weren’t the same. Hyungwon didn’t care, though. He admitted you’d changed but stayed by your side in hopes of the “old you” shining through. 

It was a lost cause. You’d be the first to admit that you became a shell of the person you once were. As much as you tried it was too hard to get back into old routines after your mother’s death. Naturally, she meant a great deal to you. Before Hyungwon, she was the only person you could run to about any and everything without fear of ridicule. She was your confidant. But stage 3 Brest cancer had taken her away from you all too quickly. Hyungwon reminded you a lot of her actually. As you’d sit and talk to him he’d listen with a small smile lighting up his face. He admired your passion and enthusiasm. 

Upon your mother’s diagnosis, you began to lean on him heavily for strength. He’d whisper sweet assurances, “Everything will be fine,” He’d say as he’d pet your hair. “She’ll be fine. She’ll make it through." 

A year later his words proved false. The cancer wasn’t responsive to radiation treatments at all. The doctors said she was lucky to have lived as long as she did with cancer so aggressive. Was being held up in a hospital room, throwing up because of a treatment that wasn’t even working, watching as your hair falls out, your skin gets more dull, your eyes shine less, and you’re slowly unable to do anything for yourself because you’ve become too weak… was that really living? She’d suffered so much. And you blamed yourself. 

Hyungwon became like everyone else. He’d quickly got tired of your negative self-talk. He screamed at you to realize that it wasn’t your fault. Seeing you the way you were was heartbreaking for him and he sought professional help for the both of you. You didn’t find the therapy helpful, but Hyungwon did. He went often. It was like this that he discovered he was enabling you. Taking care of everything while you self-loathed wasn’t doing you any good. He needed to leave you in order for you to be better. And so he did. 

The breakup took you by surprise. You’d been sure everything was fine between the two of you. He still seemed to love you like he did when you’d first started dating. You were wrong tho. And it hurt. It hurt so much to watch Hyungwon walk out of your life. You’d lost your mother a little less than 6 months prior, how could you be expected to go back to normal. You blamed him a lot at first. The breakup was his decision after all. 

You’d been perfectly content with your year and a half long relationship, it was him who wanted to leave. You were angry and bitter for awhile… You drank a lot. You called him several times during those drunken spells. You called to curse at him for leaving you. You called to beg him to come back. Then you’d call again the morning after to apologize for your drunken behavior. Of course, you were talking to his voicemail each time you called and he probably deleted the messages before even listening to them, but they made you feel better. The messages felt better than all the therapy sessions Hyungwon had dragged you to combined. They didn’t feel good enough, though… 

Hyungwon rushed through several hospital doors in a panic looking for an information desk… looking for anything. 

"May I help you, sir?” A nurse calls out to him. She’s short and curvy and her brown hair tucked away neatly in a bun at the top of her head. 

“I just got a call um… I’m looking for a Y/N L/N.” Hyungwon explains 

“Y/N L/N,” She repeats as she searches down a long list of patients in the ward. “Ah, here they are…” she says. Her face is grim as she looks up at Hyungwon. An uncomfortable smile makes it’s way to her lips as she holds up her hand and grabs the phone next to her. “Let me call the doctor. You can have a seat right over there." 

Hyungwon feels uneasy but still does as she says and takes a seat in the designated area. The only other people present are a mother and son duo. The boy is young, no older than 4-years-old. Hyungwon watches as the mother struggles to get the young boy to stay still. Every time she gets a small hold of him, he manages to escape and quickly runs behind a chair with a wide smile plastered on his face. The mother sighs in frustration and calls the boys name but he continues to peer at her from behind the chair a few feet away with a big smile. She snatches him quickly and he’s finally unable to escape. Her large hand comes down and smacks his much smaller one. The boy’s smile disappears and he screams out his displeasure. Tears stream down his face as he cries out about how didn’t do anything wrong. 

It reminded Hyungwon of the few times you called him. He listened to all the messages you’d left and the apologies that came with them. Some were sweet and you rambled on about the past the two of you shared. 

"Remember when we first started dating and you watched to go see ‘Split’. I was absolutely terrified,” you laughed. “I fucking hate scary movies. You know I scare easy as hell. But I went because it was you I was going with. I just wanted to spend time with you. I was genuinely happy just in your presence. I hid under you the entire movie and you teased me and tickled my sides.” Then you were quite for awhile. The next time you spoke he could tell you’d been crying.  He could practically hear the tears running don your face.“I just don’t know what I did… I didn’t do anything… Why’d you leave?" 

"Mr. Chae?” A voice calls and he’s quickly whipping his attention to the man standing before him. He’s a tall black man wearing a button down and a tie with a pair of slacks underneath a white doctors apron. It was definitely safe to assume he was the doctor. 

Hyungwon quickly stood and shook his hand. “What… what happened?" 

The doctor sighed, "We usually don’t give that information out to anyone that isn’t family-" 

"Her father was never around and her mother died 6 months ago… I’m the only family she’s got." 

"Yes well, as you were listed as her emergency contact I believe it’s fitting to let you know… she attempted to commit suicide." 

Hyungwon’s breath left his body in one quick gust. Suicide? We’re things that bad for you? He had no idea you’d even considered it. 

"Mr. Chae…” The doctor calls again.

“How?”

“Injuries sustained coincide with a drop from approximately three or four stories high.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. “How is she?”

“She’s got several broken ribs. Her right leg and left arm are both broken. But um… What we’re most worried about is the swelling… in her brain.” The doctor sighs, “And unfortunately we weren’t able to save the baby.”

“B-b-baby?” Hyungwon stutters.

“I take it you weren’t aware then? She was only two months along. She probably didn’t even know herself… I’m sorry fo your loss.”

His legs gave out from underneath him. Baby? You were pregnant? If he would have known he’d never have left. Tears rushed down his face. The love of his life is laying in a hospital bed and all he can do is hope she stays alive. The baby he didn’t even know was there, is gone… So much went wrong in the span of only 3 weeks…. and he has no one to blame.


I know the ending sucked I’m sorry I hope you still enjoyed it guys :)

- AJ

I Can Manage On My Own (Lafayette x Reader)

(75 where the reader gets into a fist fight over civil rights and shocks Lafayette by winning, please? :)

This felt SO BADASS TO WRITE OH MY GOSH. 

Happy Sunday everyone! Enjoy!

You sat at your table and gripped your glass in anger. Lafayette quickly took notice, placing his hand on top of yours and rubbing gently in an attempt to soothe you. His hand rubbed gently on yours, reminding you that there were more important things than giving some idiot your attention. He was always incredible at calming you down; as fiery and hot-tempered as you sometimes were, gentle reminders from him subdued you instantly. However, this lasted about three seconds. Then the man, slightly tipsy with booze, spoke out again.

“All I’m saying, is if these people are actually looking for equal rights, then why can’t they bother to learn to read or write?”

You felt your blood begin to boil again. Like any slave had ever been given the opportunity or resources to become legible. This man had been at the bar for as long as you and Lafayette had been there, and was trouble since he first walked in the door. He sat and spewed racist, ignorant garbage every chance he found, loudly and obnoxiously enough to reach the ears of every patron in the restaurant, and probably the entire block.

“Their colored, uneducated selves deserve to be kept beneath us!” he continued, as he raised his mug of beer into the air, expecting cheers or applause. Everyone kept silent, and those seated close to him did not even bother to look at him.

You sighed and tried to direct your attention back to Lafayette. You two had a night off, and were trying to enjoy it. This man had other plans.

“And look, the revolutionaries in this bar sit in silence, knowing they can’t argue!” the drunken man called out, directing his attention to your table.

It was difficult to tell a regular man from a revolutionist. Their outfits were very similar, and did not stand out in a crowd. However, you were immediately recognized as one. The fact that you were a woman, not wearing a dress spoke volumes about you immediately, given the time period. Your white shirt, blue coat, and dark brown boots instantly set you apart from the crowd, and you could easily be labeled a revolutionary in the blink of an eye.

You couldn’t hold your tongue much longer, despite Lafayette’s best efforts.

“Sir, we are not agreeing with you. We are simply trying to ignore your idiotic statements, just as everyone else here is.” you stated, bold and unforgiving.

He seemed shocked by your response.

“And why do you, woman, think you have any business talking to me like that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, I’ll speak a little slower so that you can understand, whore. Your. Lips. Weren’t. Made. For. Talking.” he spat, then proudly took another swig of his drink.

You stood up, hands curling into fists.

Lafayette immediately got up as well, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“(Y/N), arrêtez. He is not worth your time.” he said, desperately trying to coax you into sitting back down.

“You expect me to just sit here and take his insults?” you angrily asked, turning back to face him.

Non, we should just leave. Calmez-vous. Let idiots be idiots.”

“My good man,” the man suddenly spoke up again. “The next time you bring your bitch in here, be sure to keep her on a leash and a muzzle.” 

Now, it was Lafayette’s turn to step towards the man, beginning to steam with anger.

“(Y/N), sit down. I will take care of him.” he said, placing his hand on your shoulder and gesturing to the chair for you to sit before he pounded the man.

“I can manage on my own, thank you.” you said, refusing to move. “You don’t have to fight all my battles for me.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, (Y/N), sit d-”

“He’s right, sweetheart! Wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty hands of yours!” the man called out, scooting out of his seat and walking towards you, grinning and preparing for a fight.

You looked up at Lafayette. You’re pretty sure he saw the absolute death in your eyes because he sighed, released your shoulder, and pressed his palm to his face. He knew there was no stopping you now.

Mon Dieu,” he mumbled into his hand. “Just please don’t get yourself killed.”

You looked at the man. He was still smirking, lifted his hand up and waved towards himself in a “come and get me” kind of manner, completely underestimating your abilities. 

The crowd of patrons eagerly watched, waiting for something to happen. There wasn’t a single other sound hanging in the air.

You cracked your knuckles.

“You’re gonna look real funny with your teeth pushed in.” you said through gritted teeth.

He raised his fists, and lazily swung at you. You quickly dodged it, then responded with an uppercut to his chin as he wobbled back into fighting position. He, still impaired by the sudden pain and alcohol, held onto the side of the table as he landed a sharp kick to your gut, followed immediately by his fist colliding with your cheek. You stumbled back, quickly stood up, and felt every fiber in your body catch fire. 

There was no way you were going to let this idiot hurt you. 

You stepped towards him, and almost with inhuman speed, landed a solid punch straight into his gut. He doubled over, and you used the opportunity to grab the back of his head by his hair. You them raised it, and then smacked it down onto the table he was using to support himself. You felt yourself lose a bit of control and you continued whacking his head into the wooden surface, a small pool of blood beginning to gather there.

Smack.

He deserved this.

Smack.

He’s a racist.

Smack. 

He’s a sexist.

Smack.

He is the scum of the earth. 

You suddenly felt arms grab yours, and began to pry your hands out of his hair. You didn’t fight back, knowing that you had done the damage that needed to be done. You were then escorted by two very flustered bar tenders out of the establishment, as the observers of the fight cheered and the man crumpled to the floor, limp with unconsciousness. 

You were shoved out of the door, and onto the street, the darkness of night enveloping your body. You stood there, and began to catch your breath, your heart and adrenaline levels still skyrocketing. Your midsection and cheek throbbed slightly from the punches and kicks he placed on you.

The doors sprang open again as Lafayette exploded through them, quickly making his way over to you. 

“(Y/N)? You are okay?” he asked, cupping your face into his hands and scanning you over and over for visible signs of injury.

“I’m fine, Laffy.” 

“Are you insane? Did you see how much bigger he was than you? Oh, mon Dieu, you are an absolute moron. What if he had hurt you? Really hurt you? Are you such an impulsive person that you risk your well being due to your emotions towards people who don’t matter?” he rambled.

What you had done finally began to sink in, and you realized how stupid the entire situation was. You really had worried Lafayette. You hung your head in shame, regretting the past fifteen minutes.

“But still,” he began. “That was incredibly bad ass.”

You lifted your head up and looked at him, a grin slowly forming on your face as you saw him beam down at you.

“I just wanted to show him his place.” you humbly responded.

“Show him his place? (Y/N) you kicked him out of his place, out of the door and off the face of the Earth! I’ve never seen a more expertly-executed ass whooping!” He exclaimed, excitement and pride in his voice as you giggled, laughing at his choice of words.

He continued to explain his favorite parts of the fights to you: the crowds’ reactions, and the reluctance of the bartenders to step in and stop you, both because they knew the asshole deserved it, and because you were a bit scary. He recounted these facts like a little kid, brimming with animation and enthusiasm. You couldn’t help but laugh at it; he was being absolutely adorable.

“But honestly, mi amour, I didn’t know you had it in you,” he ended, looking like a proud parent.

You shrugged. 

“What can I say? You learn a lot of fighting techniques when you’re building a new nation.”

“You’re absolutely incredible,” he said, still not quite over the excitement of the events that just took place. “But you’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

He brushed his hand along your cheek, and took notice when you winced in pain.

“Just fine, Laffy.” you lied.

He tutted and examined the forming bruise closely. 

“How about you come and stay the night at my place?” he offered. “I know a special remedy for cheek bruises.”

“Oh really?” you asked, having a hard time believing there was any cheek bruise ailment. “And what may that be?”

“This.” he replied, swooping down and quickly pressing his lips sweetly to your cheek.

You blushed deeply as he stood back up, looking down at you, eyes brimming with endearment.

“And there are more of those awaiting at your house?” you asked, flirting.

“Plenty.” he said, cocking his head down at you and waiting for a response. 

“Well we’d better get going then,” you said, taking his hand and beginning to lead him down the road.

He quickly joined your side, arm wrapping around your shoulders as you walked further into the night. The restaurant still shone with light, alive with sound and laughter, as if the brawl had never even happened.

The Bystander Effect

We’re all the heroes of our own story until the exact moment we’re not. And most people can tell you exactly when that happened.

For me, it was a Friday night around eleven. I’d had a long day of pushing paper at the office and went out clubbing with some friends to blow off steam. They’d all kept going, off to another bar or club to continue their drunken merrymaking, but I’d called it a night. They booed and hissed and told me I was an old lady, but I waved them off with a one finger salute and went on my way.

The bus stop wasn’t very crowded when I got to it, which wasn’t all that surprising given the still fairly early hour. I checked my watch, 11:07, and hugged my purse against my chest with a tired, but happy sigh. My buzz was still going strong and I was looking forward to a nice, long soak in my tub with a side of wine and some easy listening.

The pair of women beside me were leaning on each other and giggling while taking selfies, one of the guys was sitting on the bench, staring resolutely at the ground with a “Don’t talk to me” air. The other guy was leaning against the side of the little bus stop enclosure, thumbing through his phone.

We all gave each other plenty of personal space, as was customary in these sorts of situations, and I busied myself with checking Facebook and de-tagging all of the unflattering pictures my friends thought it was funny to post.

I didn’t even notice the guy across the street until the girls started whispering about him. Their excited, nervous back and forth made me look up from my screen and I followed their gaze to the man, probably no more than twenty three or four, who was walking down the sidewalk. The lit-up plastic jewelry that blinked from around his neck and wrists in the telltale colors of a nearby gay club hinted at where he was coming from.

But he wasn’t the one the girls were watching.

Someone was following him. It was pretty obvious from the pursuer’s fixed stare and the way he was speeding up the closer he got to the oblivious, probably tipsy guy. I glanced at the girls, waiting for them to call out a warning, but they stayed quiet, only observing and whispering. The others, Mr. Don’t-Talk-To-Me and Mr. Phone, at the bus stop hadn’t even noticed what was happening.

I checked my cell. 11:10. Just five minutes until the bus would arrive.

Across the street, the two men came to an ally. The pursuer leapt on his prey and they got into a scuffle. It was immediately clear who had the upper hand. The poor man being attacked yelped and started to call something.

“He-”

He was looking right at us.

The attacker clamped a hand down over his victim’s mouth and dragged him into the dark alleyway.

I looked at Mr. Don’t-Talk-To-Me. He pointedly looked away.

I looked at Mr. Phone. He kept his eyes on his screen.

The girls were tugging at their hair and motioning across the street, asking one another what to do.

I checked my phone. 11:12.

The sound of muffled cries came from the shadows across the street, followed by the sharp crack of a fist against flesh. A metal garbage can clattered to the ground and rolled to the mouth of the alley.

Someone should do something, I thought wildly, looking again at the men. They should do something! They were bigger and stronger than me and the two drunk girls. They should be going over there and helping!

I caught Mr. Don’t-Talk-To-Me’s gaze, but he didn’t move.

Did he expect me to do something? What could I do? I was a petite woman in high heels and a mini skirt. The attacker would just laugh me off. Or make me his next victim. There was no way I’d be able to fend him off in any meaningful way!

Even the victim had been bigger than me. If he hadn’t been able to shake him off, I’d only make things worse.

A brief surge of relief went through me when I saw a group walking down the sidewalk across the way. They’d go right past the alley, they’d hear what was happening and help!

But they just kept going.

One glanced down the alley and then pulled their phone out. They’re calling 911, I assumed. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It had happened so fast, I didn’t really have time to process, that was all. The girls must have had the same thought, because one asked if she should call the police. She and her friend debated.

Clearly I didn’t need to do the same if two other people were beating me to the punch. They’d make sure the cops arrived soon.

A good number of people had seen what was happening. Someone had to have called. Someone had to have made an attempt to help. I didn’t need to get involved.

I checked my phone. 11:14.

The bus was turning the corner.

There were stifled grunts and groans coming from the alley, the sound of weak crying.

The bus pulled up alongside the curb and opened its doors.

We all climbed in single file and spread out amongst the seats. The girls were still wondering if they should call the cops. The guys remained silent.

The bus doors closed and we lurched forward, leaving the alleyway and its darkness behind.

I checked my phone. 11:15.

And that was the moment I realized that I wasn’t the hero, even in my own story, or anyone else’s either.