An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Characters: Waverly Earp, Nicole Haught
Additional Tags: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Wayhaught - Freeform, Wayhaught Reunion, Important Conversations, Apologies, Not-Dying, Gap Filler, Canon Timeline, waverly's pov, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Giving the seal to the Widows wasn't easy for Waverly, but the more she thought of Nicole, and the more she thought of how three little words were missing from her own mouth, the more she simply had to do it.
(Fill-in-the-blanks fic from Waverly's perspective from 2x10 continuing in later chapters into 2x11 about the important conversations they have yet to attend to)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
2nd chapter of my mlm/Jeremy/Original character fic, Small World. This time from Waverly’s point of view.
The Earp sisters (and Nicole) attempt to plan Wynonna’s nursery, but are interrupted by a case: a little animal exsanguination. The resident Purgatory vet shines a little light on the situation while Waverly comes up with a potential Revenant suspect.
here’s part five to my new fanfic, “we” – a short story [loosely] based off the anticipated struggles that come with being in a relationship with justin. track #we fic if you would like to be updated whenever a new part is posted! xo
part one | part four | part six
Everything is quiet, and peaceful, and perfect. You’re tracing your fingertips along the black ink on Justin’s chest, watching the rise and fall of his steady breathing as the two of you just lie together tangled in white sheets, blissed out in a post-sex haze. It feels like the world has stopped just for this moment, just for the two of you.
Your heart is full of love and you’re so utterly content that you’re trying to will yourself to lull away the deafening ache in your head because sure, this moment is perfect, but you know it’s just the calm before the storm and that terrifies you. Your mind is pacing around the idea of two simple words, hesitant on deciding if you should intrude on the silence with the heavy question of what now?
You settle for three words instead.
“I love you.”
Justin picks up his hand to hold yours and kisses the crown of your head, humming softly in response.
“I love you too, baby.” He says honestly, but there’s a hint of concern in his tone. “You alright?”
“Of course,” You answer, lifting your head up from your boyfriend’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “What makes you say that?”
“Babe, I can practically feel your anxiety burning off of you.” He jokes, but it makes you frown. Justin lifts his hand to stroke his thumb down the crease that’s formed between your brows, “Aw, come on. What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
You purse your lips to the side, eyeing the crown tattoo below his shoulder as you skim your index finger down the arches of it in an attempt to distract yourself or at least buy some time. It’s useless trying to stall him, –– you know that, –– so you speak up eventually.
“Things are really great right now, at this moment, don’t you think?” You ask, your eyes flickering up to meet your boyfriend’s again. He nods, listening to you attentively, so you continue. “I think so, too, and I think that things are always really great when we’re finally together... but that’s just the thing.
“Cause we’re rarely ever together. And I know we’re constantly having this conversation about you being gone, and me having to wait for just a single minute alone with you, and it’s annoying, but it keeps happening for a reason, you know? We keep getting ourselves into this situation, and we can’t seem to get over it...”
You pause for a moment, chewing on your tongue because you’re cautious with the words on the tip of it.
“I guess I’m just scared because I don’t think we ever will.” Your eyes had wandered from Justin’s as you were speaking your thoughts, so when you look back at him, you’re a little glad to see he’s still listening, but he looks away from you for a moment, trying to collect his own thoughts. He looks a bit confused, a bit angry, and a bit of something else you can’t really spell out, and the fact of that alone is worrying.
Everything is quiet again, but it’s the kind of quiet that wraps a fist around your throat and chokes you in unyielding silence. You can feel your heart in your ears and your stomach in your chest. You’re all kinds of worried, and you can’t stand the silence any longer so you open your mouth.
“Justin, please say something.” You plead.
“What do you want me to say, (Y/N)?” He snaps, undeniably frustrated.
“Just tell me what you’re thinking.” You encourage, trying to keep your voice light as you slide your hand across your boyfriend’s chest. Justin pushes your hand away as he sits up, clearly not having any of this.
“Alright,” He nods, grabbing his jeans from the floor and pulling them on as he rises to his feet. “Here’s what I’m thinking: my girlfriend basically just told me that we argue too much about the same shit –– I agree with that. We fight a lot, and it’s a pain in the ass, but I think it’s worth it ‘cause I know we’ll make it. Why? ‘Cause I love her enough to just try and get through the bullshit.
“But she seems to disagree. As a matter of fact, she quite literally just told me that she doesn’t think we’ll make it at all! And I think that’s kind of fucked up, so I’m a little pissed right now considering my girlfriend thinks our relationship is a hopeless train-wreck––”
“Justin, I never said––”
“Meanwhile, I would happily lose everything I have going for me right now just to keep her, but she can’t fucking reason with me because this argument we keep having is a waste of her time. Right?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sitting up in bed as your boyfriend stands at the side of the bed while you say, “Justin, you’re putting words in my mouth; that’s not what I meant when I said that.”
“Oh, no?” He snaps, raising his eyebrows at you.
“No, I––...” You pull the sheets up to your chest, feeling vulnerable and distorted. “Fuck, see?! This is what I mean! I’m sick of fighting with you, Justin! I’m tired of everything between us being so hot and cold all the time. One second, we’re the only two people in the world –– no paparazzi, no cameras, no screaming girls, –– just us. Then the next, we’re yelling and going at each other’s throats like we’re in a fucking war-zone, and I’m tired of our relationship being like this!”
You don’t want to yell, but you have to, as if that’s the only way he’ll hear you and you’ll hear yourself and somehow the truth will come out beneath the noise. And it does. He hears it.
“Tired of our relationship being like this, or tired of our relationship?” Justin asks, and you suddenly feel like you’re being strangled because maybe the latter is what you meant in the first place.
You open your mouth to speak, but your voice doesn’t cooperate. You don’t think there’s anything you could say that could make this better, but you still try searching your mind for something, anything, to fix this, yet you fall short. Justin is shaking his head and walking away before you get the chance to say a word anyway.
here’s part four to my new fanfic, “we” – a short story [loosely] based off the anticipated struggles that come with being in a relationship with justin. track #we fic if you would like to be updated whenever a new part is posted! xo
a/n: y’all wanted me to continue this, so here it is!! i’m so excited to be writing again, and so flattered that people still want to read my writing (idgi??) so thank you. ily. –– also probably might take one or two requests in between writing this bc i didn’t realize how much i missed writing & i don’t wanna limit myself to this storyline. (:
part one | part three | part five
Your clouded eyes scan the moonlit landscape below you, peering outside the plane window with your chin perched up on the palm of your hand. Europe is astonishing from a bird’s eye-view; you can only imagine how beautiful it is from the ground.
The flight attendant’s voice comes into sound and echoes throughout the cabin, telling the passengers of the plane that they’ll be landing in no less than fifteen minutes. When the nose of the plane dips forward, diving towards the ground, your stomach mimics the action of the aircraft as your heart leaps into your throat. Here we go.
You clutch your phone in your hand and tap the screen to get to your messages, the last text you received being from Justin:
call me when u land. can’t wait to see u. :)
No, you hadn’t completely agreed to going on tour with him –– only the remaining leg of the European tour which would last about two more weeks after your arrival. You still needed time to think, after all; leaving school, home, and everything else wasn’t the easiest decision to make... Granted, you would choose Justin over everything if everything wasn’t so complicated or maybe if you knew where your relationship with him was going, but unfortunately you’re not a superhero and you can’t tell the future. Love is complicated, and it’s so much more complicated when the whole world is watching you fall into it.
A phone call from your mother distracts you after the plane-landing, keeping your pestering thoughts out of your mind for the twenty minutes that she continuously drains on about tips on personal safety in a foreign country. You’ve never been anywhere more foreign than Disney World, so she has reason to worry, but Justin’s security crew is more than capable of keeping you safe. Sometimes your mother forgets how famous Justin really is, but it’s humbling more than anything.
A driver meets you at baggage claim holding an iPad with your name typed out on the screen. There’s almost no sign of Justin anywhere except for the bouquet of flowers that the chauffeur hands over to you proudly, a note hidden in the bundle of roses, “Sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the airport –– couldn’t risk the paparazzi mob. Henry should get you back to my hotel smoothly. I’ll see you then, baby. Love, Justin.”
You lean in and smell the flowers, smiling shyly to yourself as Henry takes your bags and leads you to the vehicle waiting outside.
-
You pace down the hall to the presidential suite, eyeing the stoic security guards that stand attentively in front of the door of your boyfriend’s hotel room. The two men are broad and intimidating, and either temporary or new to the crew considering you don’t recognize their faces. They regard you impassively as you pull out the room key that one of Justin’s agents had granted you while you decide to not giving either guard a second glance as you enter.
“Hello? Justin?” You call, glancing around the suite that’s fit for a king. It still amazes you to see how much money your twenty-two year old boyfriend possesses.
You stand timidly in the foyer, pursing your lips to the side as you wander the suite and leave your bags at the door. Everything is so spacious and grand; you feel like you’re intruding.
You turn a corner into a bedroom, peering around inside to find a couple of suitcases with clothes scattered around it at the foot of an un-made king bed. The sound of running water and a light humming spikes your curiosity as you continue to explore. To the left is a sliding door with the curtains pulled back, revealing a gorgeous balcony view of the city. To your right is what you assume to be the bathroom where your boyfriend has possibly just finished his shower as the faucet turns off. He’s mindlessly singing to himself when you decide to make your presence known.
“Justin?” You say from the doorway, looking towards the bathroom eagerly.
You hear him freeze in his steps. He whips his head around the door, droplets of water beading off of his face and onto the white carpet.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?!” He exclaims excitedly, pacing towards you eagerly with only a white towel wrapped around his waist. “Aw, babe!”
You can’t help breaking into a smile at the sight of him, and you silently curse yourself when tears start to well up in your eyes. Justin curls his arms around your waist and lifts you a foot off the ground, leaving your heart beating a hundred miles a minute. Small drops of water fall from Justin’s head onto your arms and clothes, but you couldn’t care less because your boy is finally in your arms again. You never want to let go.
“When did you get here?” He asks, setting you back down on your feet but keeping his hands on you, his fingers roaming your lower back and waist.
“Just now.” You say through a smile, holding his hands against your hips.
“I told you to call me when your plane landed, asshole. I didn’t even have time to get dressed up all nice for you,” He scolds, though you know he’s only playing. “Couldn’t have given me a little warning?”
You brush your hands up his arms and interlock your fingers behind his neck, “Nope. I’m pretty happy you didn’t have time to get dressed anyway. Would’ve been a waste.” You grin, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his and then everything is perfect again.
Your boyfriend groans softly into the kiss, encouraging you to deepen it until he pulls away hesitantly.
“Wait, wait, wait. Baby, I haven’t seen you in months. Don’t you wanna talk first before we... you know?” Justin persists, clearing his throat as he desperately tries to change the subject. “How was your flight? Did Henry get you here okay?”
You know this isn’t really what he wants –– or what his body wants, more like, but your relationship is kind of on the line right now so you know he’s only got your best interest in mind. However, the DTR conversation can wait.
You roll your eyes, “Babe, I haven’t seen you in months. And the first time I get to see you, you’re drenched and only dressed in a towel –– which, by the way, is quite thin, so I can visibly tell that you’re not really in the mood to ‘talk’ first.” You giggle softly as your boyfriend glares at you playfully.
His smoldering look breaks into a grin, “I love you.”
“I know.” You mirror his grin and press your forehead against his, lightly kissing his lips, “Now show me how much.”
