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violets-page · 3 years

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Shot down Pt.3

Allie takes over your mind and all Raven can do is watch, feeling helpless.

TW: self-harm (kinda extreme)

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Masterlist

You relied often on the extension of crutches to be mobile. However, things that worked on the ark were not always as great on the ground.

Things like executions, lunch, and crutches, were all much better on the ark. All involved much less suffering. The bumpy terrain and muddy roads made you slip often. Walking made you anxious, afraid that at any moment your legs would give up and you would plummet to the soil. Stuck there until someone become willing to help. Needless to say, you avoided it at all costs. Or at least avoid walking alone.

Today was one of those days where you were forced to. Raven was working on some sort of electric fence around the camp and had begrudgingly left your side after you begged her to. You knew that being cramped inside all day with nothing to work on was worse than hell for her. It had rained earlier and the ground was a cesspool of piss and mud. Falling into it was ill-advised.

You were immensely grateful for the returning strength to your arms and spent many hours working out. Pull-ups were your preference. Without them hobbling along would have been much harder. Raven often commented on them with a smile and a laugh, it always made you blush.

The jagged metal of the crutches sank deep within the soil each time you set them down. It took forever for you to get more than a few feet from your tent, but by that time you had already grown too tired.

You practically fell onto a stray box before hurling the crutches into the mud next to you. You felt your foot twitch. Abby had stated this was a good sign of recovery but to you, it just felt like a painful reminder of your limits.

Your head fell forward as your palms dug into your eyes, holding back the tears like a damn.

The chip in your pocket felt like a hundred pounds as you pulled it out

* * * * * * * *

When Jaha gave you the chip he had seemed so sure of himself, so convinced that these people would be happy. Hell, the man fell from space in a death capsule, was stranded in the desert, almost died, and somehow, and he looked happier than anyone else on this damned planet.

You had run out of other options. The worst that could happen? It turned out to be a piece of plastic and you were left with the unsatisfying taste of dirt.

You held it against your lips toying with the idea, you had run out of time, out of patience, out of hope.

Raven had slowly gotten over her guilt (all thanks to you) and due to your inability to travel more than 30 feet without screaming, you barely saw her. Abby was the only one who checked in regularly and most likely because you spent most of your time in her makeshift waiting room.

Waiting.

You were always waiting. Waiting for your friends to return, waiting for your leg to heal, waiting for love.

Before you could stop yourself you let the chip slide onto your tongue. It dissolved quickly at tasted faintly like salt and dough.

You sat there, waiting for euphoria, waiting for...something.

The kids on the ark sometimes smoked herbs. You thought it would feel like that, the world fading around you as bright colors floated around and everything else just ceased to matter.

Instead, you wiped tears from your eyes all the while cursing Thelonious. You grabbed your crutches, the walk back would take your remaining energy, but better than then be stuck in the oncoming rain.

You felt your annoyance growing with each step as the crutches creaked irritated by your weight on them. You couldn’t take it anymore, the anger came crashing like waves. You slammed the crutches in the mud with a scream. You hated them. They poked you in the arm, they were too tall and made your shoulders ache, they sunk into the ground and were too nosy.

you stood in front of the crutches before raising your leg to stomp on them.

You took your anger out, everything that was wrong with the world you suddenly blamed the crutches for.

“Stupid mother fu-”

Your stomps slowed to a steady pat before halting completely. You were moving, standing. Without the aid of crutches. You took a few more steps, and a few more, and some more. Until your eyes were met with a pristine pair of black heels.

Your eyes trailed up the ivory-toned legs and over the tight red dress of a figure, you'd never seen before. You stared at her in confusion.

“Hello y/n”

* * * * * * * *

Raven hadn’t realized what was happening till it was too late.

You fought against the hold on Clarke and Bellamy in a fit of screams. The forest looked the same to you no matter where you were and your eyes hungrily searched for anything you could recognize

You heard the familiar faint whispers of Raven’s ‘I’m sorry’ before a needle was plunged into your neck and everything went dark.

* * * * * * * *

The drive to the grounder camp felt long and hopeless to Raven. She spent the drive running her hand through your hair hoping part of your unconscious mind would recognize her touch and be soothed by it.

She watched as Clarke and Bellamy hopped out of the truck to reason with the vicious-looking grounder. Her Breath hitched waiting and hoping they would be able to reason with her. She couldn't bear to lose you.

You were all she had.

She felt you shift in her arms, your eyebrows furrowed and she could see your eyes flutter but remain close. For a second she forgot the situation, a gentle smile down at your waking form. Then reality came crashing.

“Hurry she's waking up!”

You felt the fabric of a blindfold as rough hands shoved it down before you could even open your eyes.

Hands were on your body, their touch felt familiar but not enough that you could place the figure. The blindfold cocooned your ears and amplified the sound of your breathing so that Clarke’s voice was a dull mumble.

You felt your body being released from your arms as your back sunk it to something soft and shiny. You immediately started trying to get free. Attempting to rip the blindfold off, you felt your hands and feet grabbed by multiple sets of limbs. Restraints were bound sloppily but tightly around your wrists, with the addition of the blindfold and multiple pairs of hands trying to hold you down you weren't making much, if any progress.

The smartest thing to do was to obliviate one of these obstacles. You choose the easiest one. Your hands clawed at your face, you could faintly feel your skin under your nails as you ripped at it before your fingers were finally able to latch onto the blindfold, yanking it down and around your neck.

Alie’s familiar red dress stood out strongly against the dull tones of the unfamiliar room. The group stood in tense anticipation as you snapped your head around, trying to recognize the room. You knew it wasn't part of the ark, it was too dirty and earth-like. The fur rug made you think Trikru but where you had no idea. When your mind drew a blank Alie grew frustrated. Or at least, her version of frustrated.

“We need to know where you are.”

Your thrashing resumed this time tenfold.

“WHERE AM I. WHERE AM I.”

They struggled to hold you down as you fought past your physical capabilities to escape. They all had a grip on a limb making movement nearly impossible. Injuries, even if you couldn’t feel them, weakened you.

You turned to the closest person, who happened to be Raven, and sunk your teeth into the flesh of her wrists. It was shallow, she yanked her hand back before you could go deeper. Her pain barely registered in your mind, her tears didn’t tug at your heart like you knew they should have.

Instead, you seized the opportunity to reach over and punch Jasper square in the nose. His hold loosed but by then Raven had latched back on, the blood from her wrists trickled slowly down onto your exposed skin. With each failed attempt at escaping struggling grew harder.

Clarke and Bellamy had been quick to grab a spare rope, using it to bound your hands and feet to the posts of the strange bed. You screamed in frustration as Alie stared at you. She showed no emotion, just the same semi-pleasant stare she always held.

“LET ME GO.”

You knew the awful things Alie could do and you were no stranger to them. The scream was a mix of terror and anger. You tossed your body up and down hoping to break the posts, the bed, something to set you free.

“LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO.” Your voice grew more strained with every word. If you could feel pain your throat would probably ache immensely.

The group stepped back after thoroughly double-checking the knots. The sheer look of horror was displayed across all of their faces and it vexed you deeply

Didn't they know you were doing this for them? For her?

* * * * * * * *

Raven stood in the other room, watching you made her feel sick to her stomach. Not that listening to your screams from a different room made it any better. She could hear the creaking of the bed and pained screams throughout the entire house. So she stood, waiting anxiously with Clarke for their next move.

Her nails had been chewed to the beds and she knew that if- when you came to, you would scold her till her ears bleed.

Clarke said she knew where to get a wristband and Sinclair knew how to alter it to suit their needs. But Raven grew nervous with the time it was taking for either of them to follow through on these promises.

She glanced to where Clarke was talking to the grounder and felt her muscles tense when the girl gave Clarke an angry glare. Whatever Clarke was trying to achieve, she was doing a horrible job of it.

By now all of her nails had been chomped town to raw skin so she switched to pacing. Back and forth, back and forth trying to drown out your ever-fainting screams.

Raven let an audible sound of relief when Clarke set the wristband on the table. It had been a silent mutual agreement that Sinclair would be the one to work on the wristbands.

One part because He knew them best and the other because Raven couldn’t keep her fingers from trembling long enough to do the necessary machine work.

“So how do we do this?” Clarke seemed the calmest of them all. Losing Lexa had numbed her in a way.

“If we can turn it into an EMP we can use it to fry the bitch out of her head. The electromagnetic pulse would destroy the critics. You just need to reverse the polarity and...”

Raven droned on in her explanation, faintly aware of how quiet the neighboring room had grown.

“We don’t know what the chip embedded in her brain is like, it could cause a bad outcome”

“Worse than this?” Her question was met with a defeating silence. Not that she expected anyone would answer. She wasn’t feeling too strongly about the plan either but she couldn't watch you slowly break apart, her lover disappearing with every day until all that's left would be a hollow shell. She tried to reassure herself that it was what you would want.

The group continued to talk, working up a solution until they had a solid plan mapped out. Monty and Octavia had fled to the dropship to gather the necessary parts while everyone else had stayed behind.

She made her way back into the room to watch you.

Maybe for a moment, she could envision you back to normal, pretending that she was simply watching you blissfully relax.

* * * * * * * *

Raven stood in the corner of the room. Her posture was rigid and he hands crossed over her chest relaying defensive positioning.

Not that you even cared. You surveyed your bound wrists with a bored expression. Her eyes fluttered between you and the floor constantly. The floor was basic dirt and about as interesting as well... dirt. Meaning that she was avoiding your eyes.

You rolled your wrists thoughtfully considering a slip-out process, you knew how Raven worked, how she thought, her weak spots. You could take her easily. You tugged at the right wrist restarting trying desperately to wrench your wrist free.

Alie watched you robotically her red dress unnatural in the atmosphere.

“With marginally more slack, you could reach those knots.”

The idea hadn’t occurred to you before. without pain inhabilitating you, you’d be able to dislocate your shoulder, properly creating more slack.

You twisted, you could feel the muscles in your arm pulling taut as you put out exasperated grunts. Raven’s eyes snapped to yours, her worry clouding her fear.

“Y/N, please...”

When you made no effort to stop she took note of your clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

“What- what are you doing?”

Her voice no longer had any effect on you. Your heart didn’t ache when you saw the pain in her eyes, you didn’t feel the need to comfort her when you could sense her anxiety. You were trying to help her, get her to take the chip so that you could be happy together so that her pain could end. But until she did, she was just a pest in your mission.

You kept tugging, you could feel your muscles grow stressed as you got closer to your goal. The grinding of your bones scrapped your ears as your arm popped out of its socket.

Raven stood frozen in shock. The fear on her face was evident but she was too startled to have a reasonable reaction.

“There is no pain here Ray, you could be free.”

Maybe it was the nickname rolling off your tongue, it’s lack of love or familiarity, or maybe she saw you trying to chew off the restraints, but she finally snapped out of it.

“STOP IT! GUYS.”

The blood has started to run back down your arm. Somehow in forgetting pain you also forgot about death. Raven didn’t know what to do, how to stop you, and stop the bleeding all at once.

Her heart was pounding out of her chest as images of your still body lying in a pool of blood clouded her thoughts.

“Oh god.”

She reached for your head, her calloused fingers against your cheeks as she tried to turn your head away from her wrists. You snapped at her, your teeth clenching around the air, but it was enough to get her to let go. The memory of your teeth in her skin and the stinging of her wrist were a painful reminder of how far you would go.

Clarke came in as you resumed chewing on the restraints. So close...

Before you could get them Bellamy and Raven had yanked you away. Enforcing your body in its position with more rope.

Clarke shouted at you to stop but you drowned her out, straining your neck in a futile attempt to reach the restraints.

“Alie.”

Your head snapped to Jasper’s as the familiar probing sensation in your brain occurred. Everything went dark, when you came back to it, Alie was staring at you. The slightest traces of distaste etched across her red lips.

“Let them help you”

You froze, staring straight ahead. For a moment everyone else did too. Probably expecting you to lash out again and bite one of them. When you didn’t Raven quickly took to untying your wrists.

You watched her with faint interest. You couldn’t remember why you wanted to save her but you knew you did, somewhere deep down. Your eyes traveled down her arms. Her fingers were latched tightly around your arm. The teeth marks were barely visible, caked under her dried blood. Or maybe that was yours. You felt something in you ache, you can’t feel pain but this feeling... felt painful?

You pondered upon its appearance as Clarke used her foot to relocate your shoulder.

You didn’t even flinch.

* * * * * * * *

Raven had volunteered to stay with you. God knows why, you had hurt her enough. You rolled her eyes when she did, not that anyone noticed.

She sat at the end of the bed. you didn’t really mind, not that you could even do anything if you did.

You looked her up and down.

“Do you still cry?” It wasn’t really a question, you knew the answer. You just wanted to hear her say it.

Her eyes shot up to yours. Her hands tensed in her lap and you momentarily took note of her bloody nails.

“What”

“You used to cry over my leg. Why did you stop?”

She opened her mouth but then shut it not knowing how to answer, or who was even talking to her.

“If I’m being honest I think it was quite selfish of you. I’m the one with the fucked up leg and yet, I was the one comforting you about it.”

Her expression hardened but the tears in her eyes stayed. your stomach ached again but you ignored it.

“Get out of her head Alie”

You smiled at her, a nice teethy one, completely catching her off guard.

“It’s not Alie. It’s me Raven, your- your.” but your mind drew a blank. How did you know Raven? You couldn’t remember and it made you mad.

“You're the reason I’m in here. the reason I took the chip. Because you let me get shot.”

“Shut up.”

“You couldn’t help me and when I needed you most you disappeared.” you sneered at her as tears ran down her face.

“I’m sorry... I-”

Clarke’s hand was on her shoulder, leading her out of the room before you could get another jab in, but that didn’t stop you from trying.

“I HATE YOU RAVEN. I HATE YOU.”

* * * * * * * *

You watched as Sinclaire put together a type of bracelet device.

“Their design is good, I won’t be able to get here before they disconnect you.”

You felt your heart rate spike knowing what was to come and that you had no way of stopping it. You struggled to try to pull your hands free before they could latch the device on. Your attempts were pathetic.

“You know too much. I can’t let them have you.”

The red dress disappeared and your head felt like it was on fire.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.

You had to get rid of the burning, it engulfed your head, shooting from the base of your neck, its flame growing stronger every second. You slammed your head against the headboard. Once. Twice. Every time you did the burning seemed to stop for a second, so you speed up. Screaming as your brain felt like it was being incinerated. You didn’t even notice when the bracelet was strapped on. Your eyes moved to Raven's tear-stained face and her mouth open in an apparent scream.

You almost stopped. A second of hesitation before the banging resumed.

You didn’t notice when blood started to run down your neck or when Octavia grabbed your head in an attempt to hold it still. You tried to scream at them to stop, that they needed to let you stop the burning but you couldn’t seem to form words.

You screamed as tears ran down your eyes.

“Please please please Raven. I don’t wanna die. Please don’t let them kill me!” You hiccuped. Your neck continued to jolt as you tried to smash it against the headboard. She looked heartbroken as her hands fell to your cheeks. You closed your eyes as sobs racked your body. The faint feeling of her lips against your forehead felt like a drop of water in the desert.

“I’m sorry love” You felt all the blood in your body vibrate as the current soared through you.

* * * * * * * *

When you woke up everything hurt. The pain shocked you at first. You’d grow accustomed to its absence. You went to move your hands to your head, the sticky blood coated your fingers as they rested upon a thin cut at the base of your neck.

“Ow.”

Everyone let out an audible sigh of relief. Her familiar hands were on the sides of your head, pulling your face into her chest. You allowed her scent and the smooth folds of her shit to engulf your senses as you tried to ignore the bustling headache that was sneaking up on you.

As if suddenly remembering you grasped her forearms pulling them away from your head, You stared at the deep, red indentations on her wrists.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you let out a soft gasp.

You had done that to her.

She sensed your emotions, she always did. And she always knew exactly what to do about it. Her hands moved back to your hair, stroking it gently while avoiding the cuts and bruises you’d received.

You stared up at her for a while until the pain grew too much and you closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall back forward against her stomach.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

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nerdy-emo-royal-dad · 4 years

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Voices of Silence

Based on THIS headcanon by @sidespromptblog

Warning/s: angst?

~~~~~

Janus was a master of disguise. Everyone knew that. He could capture any side almost perfectly, from the clothes, features, actions, and even down to their voices.

As far as the sides were concerned only Deceit had this ability, and Logan preferred it stayed that way.

The logical side had discovered he had the same gift as Janus quite late along Thomas’ life; well... partly. Where Deceit could mimic practically everything about anyone, Logan found that he could only do their voices.

After months of practice, he realized he could speak as the others’ better, more flawlessly, than a certain scaled aspect ever could.

Even with this marvelous discovery, Logic never made this skill known to the others. Aside from the confusion this would entail between him and Janus, there simply just wasn’t any reason for the embodiment of logic to posses or even use such an ability.

For years, he remained silent about this; focusing his attention on far more important skill sets like scheduling, research, databasing, and timekeeping; skills that were actually crucial to his role as Thomas’ sense of logic.

Eventually, it became as if he never had the ability to do that in the first place.

~~~

He remembers the first time it happened like it was yesterday. He was simply pointing out to Princey that pure originality was nearly impossible, only to be cut off by a loud and long shush coming from the royal side and Thomas himself.

It didn’t hurt. He didn’t even mind. Besides, it was daydream mode and Roman did in fact have all the creative liberty.

Needless to say he was still surprised when later in the day he found himself repeating those exact same shush sounds in his room. He had practically forgotten how it felt to copy another’s voice.

As he tested his long lost ability once again, he was reminded of the intriguing intricacies of the delicate art of voice mimicry.

It was fascinating how something as simple as “shh” could be so different for each person. He could feel the slight difference of Thomas’ and Roman’s very similar sounding expressions in his own vocal cords. He noticed how the minimal shifts in the movements of his own larynx made a large difference in enunciation, tone, pitch, and volume.

As a little secret, Logan decided he was going to hone this skill once more.

~~~

“You’re the least popular character, get over it.”

Logan did try not to think much about Anxiety’s little comment, but once left to his own accords it was quite hard to believe that those words didn’t sting.

Yet, he couldn’t help himself from repeating that exact line to the empty room in the exact same manor the anxious side did.

Again, and again.

Maybe he did it to practice? Maybe as a reminder to himself? Maybe to keep him in his spot?

Every repeat was like a slap to his face, but gradually the pain got more tolerable, until he became numb to the sentence; willing the pinch he felt in his chest away.

At least now his mimicry had a purpose.

~~~

It didn’t stop there.

There were much more incidents that followed after that.

“Shut your ever-flapping gobtalker.” “Oh, hush sub-astute teacher.” “Now is not a good time Logan.” “Shut up, Nerdy Wolverine.”

Every time he was thrown a phrase that stabbed at his chest he did the only thing he knew to wash away the pain.

He repeated it. Over and over, commanding his own vocal cords to produce sounds that weren’t his; he listened to every sentence with their voice until it couldn’t hurt him anymore.

And for the longest time, it stayed that way.

~~~

The viewers had been noticing that Logan had lost the energy he once had in earlier videos. He couldn’t blame them for pointing it out. It was true.

With how much he had to numb himself how could it not be?

On the bright side, he’d perfected the art because of it.

The very familiar voice of Thomas calling brought him back to the present.

“Logan? You looked really spaced out there for a second bud.”

“Apologies, I was merely recalling a research I was doing a while ago.”

It was a bit concerning how easily he could lie nowadays. Maybe Janus was rubbing off a bit more than he expected.

Speaking of him, Logan brought his attention back to Thomas and the others trying to recall a certain line the deceitful aspect had said in previous videos. Apparently this line they wanted to remember was crucial to the current predicament.

They mentioned something about a blindfold, and prizes, and,

Oh. Logan had a better memory than he thought.

Without any second thinking, and mostly because their bickering was getting on his nerves and he wanted to get this over with, he uttered the exact lines they were looking for.

“Life is like a piñata, and you want that stuff that makes you happy, right? Well, then in order to get that stuff you must attack the piñata, but you’re wearing a blindfold right now...”

Logan went on to recite Deceit’s point word for word.

Once finished he was met by everyone’s eyes locked on him with varying expressions on their faces; the most obvious being shock.

It wasn’t that Logic got Janus’ lines down without a single mistake, it was that he sounded exactly like him.

Not a few seconds later, his eyes widened in realization.

Before he could utter anything else, his ears received a rather loud question from Patton.

“Janus? Was that you the whole time?”

For a moment Logan wanted so badly to say yes, anything to get him out of there, but he lost his chance when the reptilian side appeared suddenly beside him, along with Remus popping up beside his twin as well.

“And I thought I was the only Lord of the Lies.”

“Uhm, hey? Since when could you do this?” “How could you not impart this with us?” “Do it again, teach!” “Logan, my logical side, how, what?” ”Oohh, imagine what that throat could do...” “You owe us an explanation, nerd.”

Suddenly Logan was bombarded with a mess of questions, statements, and requests. Suddenly there were just too many voices all at once.

It became harder to identify which were coming from them, which from his mouth, and which from his mind.

See, Logan had his reasons why he never wanted to show them; why he fought so hard to hide it, keep it under control, suppress it.

But with every passing second filled with increasing volumes, varying tones, intonations, pitches, all directed at him, he began to lose his oh so heavily guarded contro-

“Can you stop?!”

The silence that followed after Logan clasped a hand on his mouth went on for what felt like ages; every side with their own unreadable expressions on their faces, but none showed as much hurt in their eyes as Patton.

He recognized those words and that voice right away.

They were his... and the cardigan-clad aspect knew very well who those words were for.

Logan did not dare move his hands from where they sat covering his cursed lips.

He could feel his mind bringing back every sentence, every phrase, every moment of being silenced. He could feel his vocal cords contracting and relaxing, morphing and threatening to repeat every statement like he has always done.

In the spur of the moment, they could all but watch as Deceit forced Logic’s hand away from his lips; terrified but eager to know what the trembling side had stuck in his voice box .

Even he wasn’t prepared for what they heard that day.

“Oh hush sub-astute teacher.” ”This is a benched trial for you.” ”Shut your mouth or I’ll tear off your nipples and shove them up your nose.” “Shut your ever-flapping gobtalker.” “You’re the least popular character, get over it.”

It was Logan they could see talking, but it was always one of them they heard; and every time they did it felt like a stab to their own tongues.

Every statement was captured perfectly, from the volume to the tone to the emotions, to their unique vocal qualities; as if they were brought back to the very day it was uttered.

Their amazement at Logan’s perfected skill was quickly replaced by anger, despair, guilt, regret, and a whole myriad of other emotions bubbling up their throats.

“Logan...”

No one had a chance at another word when the logical side sank down with a face none of them have ever seen on him, and one they’ll never forget.

A red-eyed, tear-stained face...

With his lips clasped shut.

Staring at the empty space where logic once stood, every other entity in that room had the same thought on their minds.

So this is what it feels like to be silenced.

~~~~~

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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somebody to hold | jaehyun

title: somebody to hold pairing: jaehyun x black!reader genre: angst request: “Hey could I request a Jaehyun in which he’s engaged and wants to propose to his fiancée who no one knows about because she’s black and she gets upset and wants to leave him for not showing her how much he loves her as well as her worth and he promises to find a date but still can’t bring himself to do so. Thank you!!“ word count: 3.4k warnings: cursing, some racial microagressions?, some pushing and shoving, but not between jaehyun/reader a/n: y’all plz… I hope everyone reading these fics realizes you don’t have to stay with any partner who is embarrassed to be with you 😭

Your engagement was supposed to be one of the most memorable days of your life, rivaled only by your actual wedding; at least that’s what your friends and family have told you in the past. You wanted to have that kind of commitment to someone else, and it crossed your mind in every relationship you’d been in. When you began dating Jaehyun, you allowed yourself to believe that this could be it, even with his career and the fans.

Lately, you’ve been more and more lost about why you wanted that so much from him, especially after the course of your relationship began to truly reveal itself. You’d prepared yourself for a hidden relationship and was even relieved that the entirety of Korea wouldn’t know all your business, but you also didn’t anticipate not even his group members or family knowing you were together.

You never quite expected things to be fairytale-like, but what you really wanted has quickly turned into something completely different.

And then, when you didn’t see it coming, you got your wish. Or at least a tiny piece of it.

Jaehyun had taken you to N Seoul Tower, which boasted the fence filled with locks that professed countless everlasting loves. It was possibly one of the most romantic spots in South Korea, which surprised you a bit because it wasn’t often you got to go to places like this. At least, not with him.

The air at the top of the tower was crisp and cold. You wanted Jaehyun to hold your hand, make you feel warm again even if everything else was freezing. However, you were hesitant to do so because of how he might react, or if any of the other couples milling around would recognize him. No one had given him much of a second glance with his disguise on, but there were a few lingering looks at you, which you actively tried to ignore.

Jaehyun was equally fearful about it, which he felt both ridiculous and guilty for. Most people who came up there were couples, so they could likely already guess your relationship to each other, though he still couldn’t bring himself to take your hand. Instead, he walked quietly beside you with his hands in his jacket pockets as you examined the many different locks secured to the fence. His fingers nudged repeatedly against the object buried in the bottom of his pocket, and he sighed quietly as his neck prickled with nervous sweat.

“Aw, this one’s cute.” You pointed to a lock shaped like a sunflower with a smiling face. “Maybe we should’ve brought one.”

“We can do it next time,” Jaehyun told you, his mouth sticking with dryness. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt quite this terrified.

You stared at him. “…Are you okay?” Even though you could only see his eyes, they looked to be ablaze with energy. Not a good or excited energy, but a panicked kind.

Jaehyun thought over his plan, felt the box brushing against his fingers, looked back into your eyes. Maybe now was the right time—shouldn’t he do it while he has your full attention? He opened his mouth to answer, though he didn’t know what he could say. Though he’d thought over his mini-speech many times before, he felt like he was currently short-circuiting.

Should he get on his knee anyway? His body felt too stiff with fear to do so. Your expression changed to one of concern. Maybe the right moment had already passed. “Uh, I’m fine. It’s just…cold out here,” he replied.

You laughed a little unenthusiastically; you thought he might’ve meant he wanted to leave already. “Well, we won’t be out here forever.” Jaehyun nodded, his face burning at being unable to say anything to you.

You both stayed there a while longer, exploring more of the locks and even taking a few pictures. You wished you could’ve had a few photos of Jaehyun without his mask, but you didn’t bother with asking him to take it off for a moment, knowing what the response would likely be.

The trek down the stairs was a long one, but you eventually got to the end of your journey, though you were both a bit winded afterwards.

“So, what do you want to eat?” you asked, turning to Jaehyun once you’d gotten to the bottom of the stairs. You leaned on him so you could fix your shoe, figuring this contact wouldn’t matter since no one else was currently around.

For a moment, he stared at the side of your face as you concentrated on readjusting your shoe. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to finally say his next words, but they came out anyway.

“Will you marry me?” he blurted out. You looked up at him in shock, nearly stumbling as you regained your footing. Jaehyun seemed startled after saying it, but he didn’t take it back, even as your eyes grew big.

“What are you saying?” You tried to laugh, wondering if this was some kind of prank, but you didn’t think it was a very funny one if so. You looked around the area, seeing if there could be any hidden cameras nearby. As you did this, Jaehyun fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small black box. When you looked at him again, you were surprised by it. “Wait…”

“I’m sorry for doing it like this, but…” Jaehyun opened the box, and there was a gem inside — a diamond ring. If nothing else, you felt dumbfounded. Part of you wondered why he was doing this at the bottom of some snowy, wet stairs when he could’ve done the same on top of the tower, in a much more fitting location. But you reasoned it away as him not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, even if there was a continual tugging at your heart.

Tears gathered in your eyes, though you weren’t sure if they were entirely happy ones. “Y-yes. I will.”

Jaehyun took your hand and gently slid the ring onto your finger. You both looked down at it for a moment as if in disbelief. Was this real? But it was.

You approached Jaehyun and wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his winter jacket. He hugged you back tightly, letting himself openly show his affection in public for once. You held onto that moment for as long as you possibly could, trying to blink away your tears.

Back then, despite the unconventional way the actual proposal went down, you’d thought for sure that Jaehyun was going to tell his bandmates and company about you. There would be no way to keep an entire wedding secret from them, and you wanted nothing less. You wanted everything a wedding could offer—the big white dress, the guest list, the multi-tiered cake, the thoughtful wedding gifts. And yet, 6 months later, you’re still in the same spot you were in before. Practically nonexistent and still with no clue of when you’re supposed to get married.

You look at Jaehyun from across the dinner table in your home, trying not to let your irritation increase, though it seems impossible to ignore. Him sitting there so casually aggravates you. The fact that he doesn’t know how you feel annoys you. You don’t want to tell him because you feel like he should already know, but you also know nothing will be solved if you don’t speak. And yet, how many times have you brought it up already to no answer?

Jaehyun notices you staring at him instead of eating your food, and he sets his utensils down, looking concerned. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

“It seems like you don’t truly love me,” you say bluntly, looking at him closely. He sits back in his chair, unnerved by your declaration.

“How can you say that? What have I done to make you think that?”

“How can I, indeed. It’s been months since you proposed, and you still haven’t agreed on a date for us to get married. It doesn’t make any sense. Did you propose because you wanted to, or because you felt you had to?” you ask quietly.

“Had to?” Jaehyun sits up straighter at that implication. “Why would I have to propose to you? I did it because I love you and want to be with you!”

“I don’t know. You tell me. We’ve been together for almost 3 years now, and still no one in your life knows I even exist. Maybe you finally felt a little guilt about it and wanted to do things properly.”

Jaehyun’s expression tells you that you must be right, to some extent. He’s upset, but there’s also no mistaking the remorse on his face. “I just—” He tries to pick his words carefully, not wanting to make you more mad than you already are, though going down that path seems to be inevitable tonight. “I’m trying to give you what you want, and I know it’s been a long time…”

“You haven’t even ‘given me what I want’ yet. And are you saying that you don’t want this?”

“No, that’s not—God, I can’t think properly. You just brought this up all of a sudden!”

“So now you’re going to blame this on me?” You get up from the table and take your plate to the kitchen, your appetite now gone.

“I’m not blaming anything on you, but how would you feel if I sprang this on you with no warning? Getting married doesn’t just happen with the snap of your fingers.”

You turn to look back at Jaehyun, a look of disgust and disbelief coloring your features. “I wouldn’t feel anything, because you’d never do it, because I seem to be the only one here who actually wants to be married.”

Jaehyun follows you into the kitchen, and you linger at the other kitchen entrance that leads into the hallway. You’re already tired of hearing his excuses and just want to end this fruitless debate.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know how I feel about this, but I swear to you, I want to be married too.”

You walk to the bedroom, feeling increasingly irritated at the conversation. Your mood only worsens as Jaehyun follows you there, too. You know he’s not going to leave you alone now that you’ve brought the whole issue up, but you really want him to get out of your face before you truly go off on him.

“Y/N!” he pleads.

You finally look him in the eyes again, frowning deeply. “Prove it right now. If you love me, tell me a date when we can finally get married.”

“Now? I can’t just—”

“I really don’t want to hear that. You’ve had 6 months to think it over. If not a day, give me a damn month, at least! Can you even do that?” You put your hands on your hips and wait for his response.

“I…” Jaehyun racks his brain for something but comes up short. For him, the problem isn’t just the lack of time for a decent wedding, but the fact that he’d have to figure out when and how to tell everyone else his plans. And that is something he’s very wary of doing.

“Just like I thought.” You turn away from Jaehyun and start dressing down for the night, practically ignoring his presence. He watches as you take your jewelry off, confusion and distress lingering in his mind.

“Y/N, I promise I can come up with a date if you just give me some time…”

“I think it’s best if you go back to the dorm tonight.” You cross your arms, glaring at his reflection in your dresser mirror.

Jaehyun looks like he wants to argue, but he also knows he doesn’t really want to stay here while you’re this pissed at him. His hands fall to his sides in defeat.

“You should be grateful this is all I’m doing,” you spit. “I’m just about ready to call it quits. I’m not impressed with being thrown to the side, Jaehyun; no woman would be.”

“I’m not trying to throw you to the side,” he says meekly, though he also knows he can’t argue too hard with this one. He knows he hasn’t given you even an ounce of the treatment you actually want or deserve.

You don’t respond to his argument, and he figures now is probably the time to make his exit. He lingers at the door for a moment, staring at your back and trying to think of what he should say. Or if he should say anything at all. When you don’t turn back to look at him, he sighs quietly and leaves the room—and your home.

The ride back to the dorm is uncomfortable. He turns the radio up to drown out your words that still cycle around in his mind, but that does nothing to stop them from tormenting him. He’s exhausted by the time he gets back to the dorm, worn out from the effort of trying to stop thinking about your words and also considering what he should say to you the next time he sees you. He knows what he should do, but he isn’t sure if he can do it.

Jungwoo immediately notices Jaehyun’s sour demeanor once he gets to their room, and he watches as the other man despondently readies himself for sleep. “What’s wrong? You’re upset,” he eventually asks, when Jaehyun doesn’t say anything of his own volition.

“It’s nothing.” Jaehyun plops down on his bed stomach-down, feeling defeated and emotionally exhausted.

“It’s obviously something, though. Wouldn’t you feel better if you talked about it?”

Jaehyun only mumbles in response, keeping his face in the pillow. He’s not even sure where his engagement ring is at; he’s never worn it since the day he got it, as it’s too risky. He’s afraid he’ll soon have yours back in his possession too, thrown at him or shipped off to him in a box.

Jungwoo sighs, figuring he won’t get a response tonight. Over time, he’s been observant enough to realize that Jaehyun is likely in a relationship—just by the way he acts and the times he’s spent away with “friends"—though Jungwoo has never asked about it. And the other man has never brought it up, so he figures he’d be better off minding his business. Jungwoo turns the lights off and rolls over in his bed, thinking maybe he’ll try again later.

Your plan will probably end up with you escorted off the premises at best—and without a boyfriend at worst—but you don’t know what other option to choose for getting Jaehyun to acknowledge your wants and needs. Therefore, you dress in your best outfit and head for SM Entertainment’s building, lying in wait for his appearance.

You already know his schedule for today, with him promising that he’d come over after practice to work some details out. You also know that his promise is just another bunch of airy words with no intentions behind them. So when you see him and a few other members come out of the back of the building to head to their manager’s van, you spring out of your car and walk up to them.

Jaehyun is ironically the first one to spot you, and he freezes when he does. The others follow suit, staring at you with varying expressions of confusion. You’re still walking towards them, and Jaehyun takes a few steps to you before he can stop himself from doing so.

“Why are you here?” he asks, looking around in a panic.

“I came so you can make your decision right here and now. Fuck waiting until ‘after practice.’ I’m tired of you lying to me.”

“Y/N, please help me out here. We don’t have to do it like this, yeah? Now isn’t a good time,” he begs quietly, lightly grasping your shoulder and trying to steer you away from the others.

“Who’s she?” Yuta asks, his eyebrows furrowed. Before either of you can answer, the manager shoves his way between you and Jaehyun and nearly knocks you over while trying to get you away from him.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you scream.

“Don’t touch her.” Jaehyun pushes his manager back, maybe a little more aggressively than he intended, and the other man stares at him in surprise as he stumbles back. The other members watch the show, trying to figure out what’s happening and how you even know each other.

“Isn’t this some crazed fan? Why are you protecting her?” the manager says.

“I obviously know her,” Jaehyun sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you hear a word we were saying?”

You brush yourself off, angrily readjusting your purse that you almost dropped in the commotion. “While this clown is clearing the shit out of his ears, you need to tell me what your plans are. There’s no more time left to draw this mess out.”

“Really, who is this?” Taeyong adds in.

“Are you Jaehyun’s girlfriend?” Jungwoo asks, and the others look at him like he’s been an accomplice in the secret Jaehyun’s been keeping.

“At least someone here has the sense to realize it. Why don’t you do the honors, huh?” You look at Jaehyun, crossing your arms. His jaw tenses at being put on the spot, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He turns to face the others.

“Yes, this is my girlfriend…Y/N.” The manager doesn’t bother to hide his unadulterated shock, and you glance at him in disgust.

You chime in with, “Yes. The girlfriend he’s been hiding for almost 3 years straight and still refuses to pick a wedding date for.”

“Wedding?!” The manager and at least one other member vocalize this at the same time.

“So, what do you say?” You press on, determined to get an answer from him today. “Say it clearly, and I’ll make my decision from there.”

Decision? Jaehyun knows you are already halfway out the door, and he understands that whatever response he gives could potentially ruin what you both have left of the relationship. His heart pounds and his mind races. The manager puts his hands on his hips, also eager to hear Jaehyun’s answer so he can report it back to the others at SM if it’s not the one he wants.

“Y/N…I’m so sorry.” Jaehyun’s voice cracks, and he nervously clears his throat. “I-I don’t think we can do this. It’s just…not the right timing, and m-maybe it would be better if we could wait a bit more, at least until—”

“How long do you think I will wait for you?” you interrupt, your voice trembling. You step away from him. “It doesn’t matter. I see this is how it’s going to be.” You turn your back to him to walk back to your car, unwilling to hear more.

“Wait!” Jaehyun walks after you. The manager’s voice is tight with anger as he calls for Jaehyun to come back, but the younger man doesn’t listen. When you get into your car, Jaehyun lingers at your door, trying to convince you to roll down the window. Rolling your eyes, you do so.

“Y/N. You have to understand,” Jaehyun insists, gripping onto the window glass. “What can I do? The company, the group—” He stops speaking when you lift up your ring and hold it out to him. He doesn’t want to take it, but you’re not leaving with it still on your finger; so he lets you press it into his palm, the metal still warm from its time spent on your hand.

You give him a long look, as if memorizing his face one last time. “Don’t show your face to me again until you’re 100% sure you’re ready. But Jaehyun, I’ll tell you this—don’t be surprised if I’m long gone by then.”

Jaehyun watches as you pull off and leave him standing there, ashamed and saddened.

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Note

Can you write when Blue goes to the dentist for the second time and some of his teeth are repaired? It's okay if you don't want to, it's just that I'd like to see what happens. You are amazing!

Thank you so much ❤️❤️

CW: Mouth whump; it as a pronoun; Dehumanization; medical;

“Haru. Please. Where did you hide him?”

He is glad he prepared early for this. He knew it would be a complicated day. Haru nervously step back, notebook in hands, half-hidden behind it, but not hidden enough to disguise the guilt. It’s the second dentist appointment today, and Blue is nowhere to be seen.

“Haru, darling. I’m not doing this to harm him. It’s for him to get better”

…Scribbling.

‘It hurts him. He scared’

…He is right then. Haru did hide Blue.

“Darling, I know it seems bad now, but this will help him a lot. He is in pain every time he bites or chews, and if he can get through this right now, we can relieve this pain.”

Haru stands there, absolutely torn. He trusts and loves his Master. But he also cares a lot about Blue and knows how scared he is.

“…Please. Trust me, Darling” he gives Haru a pleading look “Sometimes… TO help someone we need to make some hard decisions”

He looks tearfully at Orfeu, hesitantly starting to write.

‘He will hate me too’

“…I won’t let him know you told me, darling. Please.”

…He considers for a second. Than nods.

‘Living room cabinet. Inside one of the boxes’

He looks down, very guilty. Orfeu walks up to him, pulls him closer and softly kiss his forehead.

“Thank you darling. You did good. I promise.”

But that doesn’t seem to help… But that was the easy part. He walks up to the cabinet, and knocks.

“Blue, darling, are you there?”

…A muffled breathing.

He opens the door, and something moves inside the boxes. Haru even placed another one over him, trying to hide Blue better. He wonders what he did with the stuff that was stored there.

“No. No Please…” he cries, clutching the plush, eyes wide with fear “Please…”

“We have to go, Blue. It will be fine, I promise. I’ll give you some ice cream afterwards, that would be nice wouldn’t it?”

Blue shook his head, pressing himself further against the corner.

“…W-warren. I want to go back to Master Warren” his eyes water “I loved him. He treated me nice. He loved me!”

“Blue… Please I do-“

“NO!” he closed its eyes “Master Orfeu doesn’t love Blue! You, You lie! Bonnie doesn’t want to be here either. She wants Master Warren. We want to go with Master Warren!”

...Ouch.

Liar. Liar. Freak. Fucking freak. Unworthy of love. Demon; screams the darkness. But fuck the darkness, he has no time to feel bad about himself today.

Orfeu puts his best resting bitch face. Hearing this… hurts. But, he can’t really blame Blue, can he? How fucking scary Blue’s world was if he thought someone who would bet him on a card games loved him.

“…Okay Blue. You are allowed feelings, even those. But we still need to go to the dentist.”

…Blue blinked away tears, whining, but crawled out of the box and followed him outside, wiping his tears.

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

It is crying and misbehaving today as well. The same white-ish place. If Blue was hurt a little last week, this time is going to be so much worse. Blue screamed at Master. It dared to mention a previous Master. It dared to say it wanted to leave. How big of an offense could that be?

And it saw, it saw the way Master looked at it. It would be hurt. It would be cut and beaten and hurt. It would be lucky if it only lost the teeth.

Still, it was true.

It liked Haru, he was always quiet and not scary. He was very pretty and did nice things for Blue, like cooking soft stuff and combing its hair. It also liked how easy it was to get petted too. It just needed to lay closer to Haru or Master and they would scratch its ear.

But Blue didn’t like this new house. The new Master was scary, his rules didn’t make sense, and he lied. He said he would keep Blue safe, that there would be no punishments, but here it was. A trick. All a trick. And it didn’t understand why they had to come to this scary place to do it. Master could just hurt it at home where it was safe, where there were no other people close. They could watch through cameras!

Master Warren didn’t tricked It. It knew how to be good! It could get pets if it was good, Master Warren liked those. Master cut good food for it, and said it was loved and would doll it up.

It missed Master Warren. Missed him so much. Blue was happy living there.

It broke into a full sob, pulling Bonnie closer, waiting to be called.

…The first thing they did was push something sharp onto its skin. Didn’t hurt much, but was just the start. It didn’t like that.

…And afterwards it felt… Sleepy and numb. Everything was swirling around it… Dark… heavy. Lights. People moving. Something shoved… keeping its mouth open. It wanted to kick away. It tried, but barely could move. So heavy. All dark.

“Shhhh, it’s okay” Master’s voice. Tears.

It kept swirling in and out of consciousness, phantom voices and sounds around it. Heavy head. A hand gently running through its face. What was going on? It must be really bad for it to be knocked out like this.

“Blue, Blue?”

It blinked, watching Master.

“Can you bite down please?”

It took a moment to notice the masked man was talking to it.

It closed its mouth, still so heavy.

It felt… strange?

“Is the bite right, darling?”

Right? Bite… It closed its eye a bit, nuzzling. It still felt heavy. Bonnie was there too… she was fluffy…

It pushed its tongue around. Strange… it had, it should have a space there, between the teeth…

“I think it is right… If it isn’t we fix next time I suppose” the masked man says, holding up a mirror.

“There, take a look dear”

It opens its mouth slightly. Has it lost more teeth…? It, it looks like it has more.

Some of them look different too. A bit better. It makes no sense. Why would it be punished by getting more teeth? Is it so they can be pulled out again? But it still had so many…

It’s, it’s over now right? It closes its eyes.

It wants to go home.

It opens its arms lightly, letting Master scoop it up.

It likes this sensation. The numbness… Dizzy… Sleepy. It nuzzles against Master shoulder, letting itself be carried away.

#ask #orfeu and haru #blue needs a tag #mouth whump #whump

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding High

Ch7: Ordinary People

Chapter Summary: Frank faces the aftermath of his dumbass choice whilst Mary heads to Boston for a few days. When the court case starts, emotions are running high and Frank finally confesses his feelings to Fliss.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Flashback at the start involving domestic violence.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, however they can also be done pretty fast. With that in mind, and because it fits with how I want the story to go I’m spreading it over approximately 6 weeks or so, so just roll with me!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

"I saw you...he had his hands all over you."

"John, I didn't want him too...he was drunk, just being over friendly..."

Fliss cowered as a sneer crossed her husband's face, the features she found so handsome once upon a time were distorted in anger, his dark green eyes clouded with rage as he towered over where she sat on the crouch. In a flash he had reached out and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Fliss gave a cry of pain, stumbling after him as he dragged her up the stairs. She tripped at one point, her hip colliding painfully with one of the steps but he paid it no attention.

No mercy.

"You're mine, Sugar.” He said, his voice steely. “You know that."

"I know," she sobbed as he threw her into the bedroom where she scrambled for purchase on the bed as he pushed her so hard she fell face down. Before Fliss could raise herself, John had grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face harshly into the pillows.

"Why do you make me do this, Felicity?" He asked, releasing his hold as his thighs bracketed hers. Fliss heard the tell-tale clinking of his belt and she gave another sob, knowing full well what was coming. He roughly pushed her dress up over her hips, leaving her underwear clad ass exposed.

And then the leather stuck her. Again. And again. And again.

"I'll mark you so hard no one else will ever want you," he snarled as he continued his assault ignoring her screams of pain and pleas for him to leave her alone. “You’re mine..." Fliss sat bolt upright, gasping as she glanced around her bedroom. She was shaking violently, the dream had been so real, so vivid, she could almost physically feel the pain. John had belted her so badly that night she hadn't been able to ride for a week, and she still bore the marks where the buckle had ripped through her skin.

The worst thing was, that after he had finished, he had held her, stroking her hair, soothing her, explaining why he had to punish her so much. It was sick, twisted. Just like him. "He’s gone, he was to blame. I’m strong, not weak, I’m strong, not weak." she repeated her mantra through gritted teeth. Thor, hearing her breathing deeply and her trembling voice, jumped up onto her bed and shoved his head under her arm as she hugged her kneed tightly. Looking down at her faithful dog, she buried her face into his fur, holding him tight as she ran through her calming thoughts in her head. The sound of the ocean, the wind in her hair as she galloped on the beach, the soft and gentle hugs she received from her dad, her mum...and dare she even think it, Frank. And then another image filled her head. The sight of him kissing Bonnie at the bar.

“Wanker.” She muttered, wiping the tears from her face as Thor licked her cheek, his tail wagging as she stroked him. With a few more deep intakes of air, her breathing evened out and she gave Thor a final squeeze before she pushed the duvet down and swung her legs out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

***** Frank had also woken up to a nightmare. His head was pounding from the shots he’d downed at the bar and being jerked awake by Bonnie’s screams as Mary had turned up in the apartment earlier than she was allowed on a Saturday hadn’t exactly helped the situation. He had fucked Mary’s school teacher for no reason other than the fact he was drunk, stressed and needed a release.

Well played, Adler, you fucking moron.

Thankfully, Bonnie seemed to be in the same place as him about the entire situation, hastily telling him that it should never have happened, something he profoundly agreed with, as he saw her out to a cab, apologising for Mary’s interruption, literally incapable of thinking of anything else to say. It was the most awkward morning after he had ever experienced in his life.

And there was something else compounding his growing bad mood. When he had finally checked his phone as he stood outside for a few moments after Bonnie had gone, hoping the fresh air would sort his head out, he realised he had a number of messages and missed calls from Fliss. Groaning he remembered that he should have called her after the court case but had completely forgotten. Firing her a quick apology, along with a promise to talk to her later when it was time for Mary’s lesson, before he headed back inside.

Mary was sat on the rug with her lego, pieces scattered all over, Ice Age playing on the TV.

“Awkward…” she sing songed

“Mary.” Frank looked at her for a moment and when she didn’t look at him he crouched down “Stop! Stop! Stop with the Legos. Listen.” he took a breath and she looked at him “Do we have a rule about Saturday morning?”

“What?” she asked softly

“Are you allowed in this apartment this early on Saturday morning?” Frank pressed, looking at her.

“No.” Mary sighed, averting her eyes from his.

“No!” Frank nodded, his voice a little louder before he paused again “Are you allowed to... hey!” he reached out to stop Mary as she returned to her Toys. “Stop! Enough with the Lego. Are you allowed to use Roberta's keys?”

“No.” she still wasn’t looking at him.

“No! So, hey! Look at me. Then why are you here? Huh? Can you answer me that?”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears but Frank was too angry at the fact she had disobeyed him to comfort her.

“You broke every rule! You just embarrassed me. We have these rules.” He angrily stood up, turning to head back out of the door into the kitchen “We've gone over them a hundred times!” And then, when he stepped on a piece of Lego in his bare feet, his frustration boiled over as he hopped on one leg, clutching the side of the dresser which was pushed flush against the wall.

“Shit…God, damned it…” He yelled as he slapped the side of the dresser, leaning against it, bending down to rub his foot. “Can I just get five minutes of my own life?”

At that Mary jumped up and bolted into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Frank stood up, before he sighed, one hand on his hip, his eyes closed. He’d overreacted, he knew that. He was more pissed at himself for being an idiot than he was at Mary. He ran his hand over his face and glanced at the clock. Mary’s riding lesson was at two and it was now just pushing ten-thirty. Deciding to leave Mary to cool down before he made breakfast, he headed into the kitchen to clear up yesterday’s dishes.

He heard the door to his room click open about twenty minutes later. Giving her another ten he wiped the counter down before he made his way back into the main room and sat on the edge of her bed, where she was snuggled down in her alcove which sported a collection of shells they had stuck to the wood panels and a few photos, one of her mom, one of her and Frank and one of her and Fliss with Monty. She was huddled in the corner, Fred laying on her knee, the laptop resting on his back as she tapped away.

“Nothing that happened today was your fault.” Frank spoke gently and looked at her “I got mad at you...I was really mad at me,” he looked at her and she continued to ignore him, “and the manufacturers of Legos. They should all be in prison. So I'm sorry.” he said gently. She paused tapping but still didn’t look at him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Sure. Whatever.” she mumbled.

“Hey, close the laptop. Come on. Please.” He watched her as she avoided looking at him. “Doesn't count if it's not eye to eye.”

She hesitated so he asked again, gently. “Come on, please.”

With a sigh she did was she was told and looked at him. Her eyes, so like Diane’s, were full of sadness and Frank felt his gut twist in guilt.

“Do you really have no life because of me?” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears and Frank cursed himself for his outburst before.

He shook his head. “That's not what I said.” he looked at her.

“Did you mean it?” she pressed, not buying his statement for one minute, her voice soft.

“Last week you said I was the worst Uncle in the world, and you wished death upon me ‘cause I didn't buy you a piano.” Frank held her gaze. “Did you mean that?”

“No” Mary replied, her fingers tangling in Fred’s fur “Not entirely.”

“Well,” Frank said, not bothering to ask which bit she had actually meant. “There you go. We say things all the time we don't mean. So let's forget it, okay?”

“Okay” Mary agreed

“Okay.” Frank nodded, standing up

“Frank?” she called as he headed towards the door to head down and check the mail. He stopped and turned back, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a piano?”

“No.” he deadpanned, turning for the door.

He strode down across the lawn to the mail boxes, unlocked his and pulled out two letters. One looked like a bill, the other was in a manila coloured envelope, and was stamped with some kind of official seal.

“Was that really Mary's teacher this morning?” Roberta appeared. He glanced at her and returned to his post “And there was me thinking Fliss would stop you doing anything stupid.”

Frank’s head shot up “Fliss?” he frowned “What are you talking about?”

“She came here last night, to see you. Mary roped her into Karaoke before she left and said she was going to come and find you at Fergs”

Frank frowned. “Well she didn’t. I never saw her last night so she-”

Oh,fuck fuck fuck!

He trailed off with a groan as he realised that she had probably seen him with Bonnie and then felt a stinging slap round the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, glaring at Roberta “Jesus, that fucking hurt!”

“Good.” she stared at him. “You know I have a book called ‘Fundamentals of Decision Making’. You can borrow it.”

He glared at her, he didn’t need this. Not now. His attention turned back to the letter and he noticed the seal was from the court house. With a frown he opened it. The header- ‘Highsmith, Kistler & Sellers Attorneys at Law’ -greeted him and he started to read. It was an order for him to surrender Mary for two days into Evelyn’s care, at a time and date to be agreed. It wasn’t unexpected but it was pretty fast considering it had only been agreed yesterday. His mother really wasn’t wasting any time.

“What is it?” Roberta asked, noticing the frown on his face

“Its nothing.” he said, leaning on the post box, still reading the letter. “Looks like Mary gets to go to Boston for a couple days.” He noticed Roberta stiffen and he looked at her. “It's just two days. Relax.” he said gently.

Because he was always honest with Mary, he sat down once he was back inside and told her about the letter. She knew there was a court case going on, he had explained it all to her as best as he could so as not to cause her any worry. She soaked up the information and shrugged before saying that going to Boston sounded kinda cool. Frank simply nodded and said that he would sort out the dates on Monday. They ate a late breakfast-slash-early lunch and once Mary was changed and ready, they headed up to the riding school.

As Frank drove there his stomach was doing flips, the nerves at seeing Fliss were overwhelming, more so because he had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was strange, he felt guilty about the fact he’d slept with Bonnie, even though he had no real reason to. It wasn’t like he and Fliss were an item.

Fliss greeted Mary with the usual warmth before she turned her gaze to Frank, and he could see the hurt in her eyes, compounding that guilty feeling even more.

“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.” he offered and she shrugged.

“It’s okay, I know you were busy.” her voice carried no sarcasm, it was measured and cool but Frank knew she was referring to Bonnie, his suspicions confirmed. She turned away, barking an instruction to Joanne who looked at her, nodding.

Frank leaned on the paddock fence as he always did, a little way from the other parents and watched as Fliss taught the three girls, that gorgeous smile on her face. Mary was certainly getting the hang of it now and was able to trot around unaided. After about forty minutes they were done and heading out of the paddock. Fliss made no attempt to come and speak to him, like normal, and made straight for her office. Casting an eye on Mary who was leading Monty back to the stable he followed Fliss.

“I take it you’re mad at me.” he spoke tentatively.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, pulling three cartons of apple juice out of the fridge for the kids.

“Because you saw me last night with Bonnie.” he pressed.

He saw her stiffen slightly before she took a breath and turned round.

“I’m not mad.” she shrugged.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I just, well I think you could have considered Mary a little more, that’s all.” “What does that mean?” he frowned.

“You know damned well what it means.” she looked at him “Mary told me before when we were tacking the ponies up that she saw Bonnie this morning, wrapped in one of your sheets. I mean, Jesus Frank that’s her teacher. Can you imagine how awkward its gonna be if any of the kids find out that you’re fucking her?” “Ok, I’m not fucking her.” Frank held his hand out to stop her.

“So what were you doing last night then?” Fliss hissed, “Playing scrabble?”

“Hang on, are we really arguing about this?” Frank looked at her, frowning. “Why? Why do you even care?”

He paused, looking at her. Her eyes locked onto his and she swallowed, and for a moment he hoped she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear but she shook her head and shrugged.

“You know what, you’re right. What, or who you do in your spare time is your business, not mine.”

With that she pushed past him and headed out into the yard. Frank let out another sigh before he headed out to collect Mary.

******

Fliss made no attempts to speak to Frank over the next few days. He messaged her to tell her about Mary heading to Boston at the end of the week and she replied politely, telling him that she was sure it would all work out, but beyond that she didn’t reach out further. However, she did call to wish Mary a safe trip to on the Thursday morning just before Evelyn arrived to pick her up, and told her she wanted to hear all about it when she came home on Saturday afternoon. By the time Frank got the phone back, Fliss had hung up.

“Frank she likes you. “ Roberta said when she popped over to wish Mary goodbye. Mary wasted no time in informing her that the reason Frank was in a bad mood wasn’t just because she was going to Boston, but also because Fliss was angry at him. Of course she had noticed, because she noticed everything. “She’s hurt and it’s yo’ own dumbass fault.”

Yeah, yeah he got that.

With Mary gone, he decided that night to take a cool box of beer down to the harbour and work late. He was in the middle of pulling a gear box apart when his phone went. It was a message from Bonnie asking if she could meet him to talk. Which was how he found himself sat on the deck of the boat, her opposite him, both wrapped in blankets and clutching bottles of Bud.

“I have had a series of nightmares, where I'm fired because of what happened. You get it?” Bonnie shook her head, rolling her eyes. Frank smiled at her as she laughed “And then I remind myself, that everything that happened, was just all the alcohol and people do far worse right?”

At that Frank laughed. “Yeah we were pretty drunk.”

Truth be told whilst he did think Bonnie was attractive, there was nothing there, and that was compounded by the fact that as he sat, looking at her, he felt no urges at all. She was simply another one of his Friday night hook ups, only this had turned out to be slightly more complicated.

Yeah, he should definitely borrow that book from Roberta

“So I guess, what I came here to say,” Bonnie sighed, “I think you’re a great guy Frank, and I’ve got your back on this damned custody case but, me and you…it just…” “Oh, absolutely, I’m with you.” Frank hastily agreed, thanking the Gods she’d brought it up before he had to. “It was a mistake.” Bonnie arched an eyebrow and he groaned. “Shit, I don’t mean that how it sounds but, well, it was, wasn’t it?”

She smiled and nodded, cocking her head to one side as she surveyed him. “I do think you need to speak to Fliss though.”

“Fliss?” Frank frowned, “What’s she got to do with this?”

You like her." Bonnie said simply.

Frank paused before he shook his head, smiling. “Is it that obvious?" "Well, if it wasn’t evident from the way you talk about her, the fact you called me by her name twice last night is most definitely a giveaway." Oh Jesus. Ground please open... "I called you by her name? When we- " he grimaced and she chuckled, raising her eyebrows "Oh God. Bonnie, I'm so sorry." He groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“Like we said, mistake.” Bonnie smiled, “Especially when you’re clearly hung up on another girl. “ "Yeah well, I think I've kinda blown it. Story of my life." Frank sighed taking a pull from his bottle.

“Blown it?”

“Yeah she's pretty pissed. She saw us in the bar and has hardly spoken a word to me since”

"And you’re giving up that easily?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t even know if she likes me in that way so…” He shrugged and Bonnie leaned forward slightly.

“If she’s that pissed at you over the fact that you hooked up with someone else then she absolutely feels something for you Frank." Bonnie smiled softly. “And it would be a shame to let something as stupid as a one night stand screw it all up for you.”

Frank looked at her for another moment or two before he finished his beer and offered Bonnie another one which she accepted and then asked him about the court case. Frank filled Bonnie in on the running order for the testimonies which would start on Tuesday before she bid him goodnight and left. He contemplated messaging Fliss once she was gone but decided against it. He would give her a few days to calm down, and give himself some time to figure out what the fuck he was going to say.

***** It was Saturday afternoon when Frank reached out.

Fliss was busy on a lesson when her phone went. Taking a quick minute to look at it, she read the message from Frank asking if it was ok if they swung by as Mary was home. With a deep breath she replied telling him it was fine, before she turned back to her client who was one of the boarders on the yard.

She had just about finished some thirty minutes or so later when she heard Mary calling her name. She turned and gave her a smile and a wave. Once she had finished with her client and taken payment, she turned to Mary and gave the girl a hug.

“Hey!” she beamed as Mary hugged her tight. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” Mary beamed “And so has Frank.”

“That so?” Fliss stood up straight and looked at him. He took a deep breath and shrugged, but the little smile on his face told Fliss that Mary had completely and utterly busted him. She rolled her eyes and then gave him a little smile of her own. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” He nodded, gratefully taking the olive branch she had offered.

They made their way into the office and Fliss moved to the small kitchenette area at the back, filling the coffee machine before she turned to Mary, leaning against the counter.

“So, tell me all about Boston.” Mary began to gush about all the things she had done, Fliss listening and asking questions as she made her and Frank a coffee. He took his with a thanks whilst Mary told Fliss how she had looked at some photos, learned more about her mom and then done some complicated Maths for a professor at a University. At that Fliss noticed Frank stiffen slightly and she looked at him, gently shaking her head. He smiled tightly and turned to look out over the yard, taking a few steps outside.

“And she has a piano.” Mary finished, “I mean I didn’t get to play it but…”

“You should come over to my mum’s.” Fliss smiled “She’ll let you play hers. That’s what she used to do, teach people music.”

Mary smiled, before she looked over at Frank who was stood watching a few people riding in the paddock, the lessons for the day having concluded which meant the boarders were free to do what they wanted.

“Are you still mad at Frank?” Mary looked at Fliss.

“Not really.” Fliss shook her head “I got a little bit cross but…” “Yeah, he can make me cross too.” Mary said wisely “He does dumb stuff sometimes.”

Fliss laughed and studied the young girl. “Yeah, you got that right.” “But he’s a good person.” Mary concluded.

“I know.” Fliss agreed, her eyes flicking to him before she looked back at Mary.

“I don’t want to live with Evelyn.” Mary shrugged “I mean she was nice and looks like my mom but…she’s bossy.” Fliss smiled.

“I want to stay with Frank.” Mary continued. “Because I know he loves me. And he did before he found out I was smart.”

Fliss felt a lump in her throat at the girl’s confession. She glanced over at Frank again who ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes underneath his shades.

“Hey, Mary, why don’t you go say hi to Monty.” she said gently. “Tell Joanne I said you could help with the feeds.” “Yesss.” Mary cheered, scooting off her chair and shooting across the yard. Fliss saw Frank follow her with her eyes before he turned to her as she walked over to him.

“How you holding up?” she asked him gently.

“Apart from screwing up my life, I’m good.” Frank snorted, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his t-shirt. “Just hope I’m not screwing hers up as well.”

“Don’t’ say that.” Fliss shook her head “You know that’s not true. Mary’s fine.”

There was a pause before Frank took a deep breath and looked at Fliss. “I hate that we haven’t been talking. It’s been kinda lonely.”

“I thought you and Bonnie might have, ” she trailed off, shrugging, “gone out or something, I don’t know.”

Frank sighed “I’ve only seen her once since. And that was so we could have a straight up conversation about how what happened was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded. “And as far as mistakes go, that one was pretty spectacular.”

“And you actually said that to her?”

He nodded.

“Wow.” Fliss snorted.

“She agreed so we’re both going to try and forget it ever happened.” Frank shrugged and he Fliss’ gaze for a second before he took a deep breath “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” he pressed “Because you thought me and Bonnie, were, like together?”

Fliss swallowed and looked away, trying to think of something to say that didn’t give her feelings away. He’d hit the nail on the head. She had thought that, and more over she was jealous so had distanced herself on purpose.

“I just,” she looked back at him, “well, I suppose I didn’t want to step on any toes, so to speak, that’s all.”

“There’s none to step on, trust me.” Frank looked at her. “I don’t feel that way. Not towards Bonnie.”

Fliss looked at him, feeling her cheeks growing warm before she turned away and quickly changed the subject. “So err, anyway, she seems to have enjoyed Boston.”

Frank let out a large breath at the fact that Fliss had effectively withdrawn back from what he had felt had been the edge of a breakthrough there for the pair of them but, well, he had no right to be annoyed, especially after everything he’d done. “Yeah.” He nodded with a little smile.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

“Well she has a court interview with the Child Welfare department or whatever they’re called on Monday.”

“Sure it’ll be fine.” Fliss replied “It’s not like she’s treated badly or her welfare is an issue, Frank.”

“And the hearing starts in full on Tuesday.” He explained “They’re opening with a bang.” At his words Fliss frowned as he turned to face her. “Mary’s biological father has apparently signed an affidavit, nominating my mother as Mary’s legal guardian.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fliss hissed, suddenly seething with anger as Frank shook his head “That’s a real shitty trick.”

“Yep” Frank agreed.

“Does Mary know?”

“No. I’ll have to tell her though, otherwise Evelyn will no doubt.”

“Your mother gets access to her again?”

“Whilst this is going on she gets visitation rights so…” Frank shrugged, and Fliss couldn’t help but notice his despondent nature.

“So when you gonna tell her?”

“Tuesday night, after it’s done. I don’t want her worrying or knowing he’s in town because if she knows and he doesn’t ask to see her, well at least once he’s gone then…” he bit his lip. “She’s gonna be upset either way but, what else can I do?”

“Nothing, just what you think is best.” Fliss said gently “I told you before that’s all you can do Frank.” He looked at her and she sighed, opening her arms and he gladly stepped towards her, wrapping her up in a hug.

******

Tuesday rolled around far too quickly for Frank’s liking. The interviews on Monday went fairly smoothly, he had a little bit of a questioning over his TV choices for Mary but other than that he’d left that session feeling pretty okay about it.

And then he’d walked into court, seen his mother and the snivelling little shit that was now being questioned by his Mother’s Lawyer.

“Mr. Polland, are you the natural father of Mary Adler?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Frank sat still, glaring at the ass hole sat in the dock.

“And how you can be certain of this?

“Well, I always knew, but then you had me take a DNA test.”

Course they did…

I would offer the test results as result of evidence of that Mr. Polland is the father and natural guardian of the minor. As well as an affidavit from Mr. Polland nominating Mrs. Adler the maternal grandmother as the legal guardian of the minor.”

Frank sat up slightly, his jaw clenching. This ass hole had no right to decide what was best for Mary, he’d never fucking met her. Greg touched his arm, shaking his head, telling him to keep quiet.

“No objections.” Greg spoke.

“Mr. Polland has Mrs. Adler offered you any monetary reward or employment for coming forward today?” Evelyn’s attorney continued.

No, sir. I have a job of my own.”

Frank suppressed a snort. Bullshit she hasn’t paid you.

“Thank you. No further questions, your Honour.”

Greg then stood up and waited a second before he opened his cross examination “Mr. Polland when was the last time you saw Mary?”

“I've never seen her.” Polland shifted slightly and Frank watched him intently.

“Why not?”

“By the time I heard about Diane…passing the baby was gone already.”

Her name is Mary, ass hole. Frank took a deep breath.

“Well, did you try and find her?” Greg pressed.

“Best I could. I couldn't just go and search the entire country.” Polland shook his head, trying to make a joke out of it. Frank was pleased to see the judge wasn’t laughing.

Greg nodded and paused again, before suddenly asking “Do you use a computer at work?”

“Sure.” Polland replied

“You know what? Help me out.” Cullen turned and grabbed his laptop “Let's google ‘Mary Adler’ and see what we find.” he placed the laptop on the dock and turned it towards Polland. He hesitated for a while and looked at the Judge who gestured with his hand, instructing him to do as he was told. Polland began to tap when Greg spoke again “You know what? You better add her middle name.”

Frank watched as Polland stopped, because of course he had no idea what her midde name was.

“It'll narrow it down. Eileen” Cullen informed him. Polland looked up and caught Frank’s eye, his face sheepish. Frank kept his face straight, his chin resting on his hand, fingers making an L-shape round his jaw as Polland looked away and began to tap.

“Yeah, Hit enter.” Greg nodded. “Okay, now head to page two…second hit. Would you please tell the court what you see there?”

Polland hesitated “It's a newspaper article called ‘Not so terrible twos’”

“And one of them is Mary Eileen Adler.” Greg nodded “Same name as your daughter. Born on the same day as your daughter. With a photograph”

Polland looked at him.

“In your defence, you'd never recognize it…”

“Your Honour, this is...” Evelyn’s attorney stood up but Cullen was quick to cut him off

“Your Honour, if there's one thing here that's sadly obvious it's that Mr. Polland has never been a genuine guardian of the minor and his nomination of Mrs. Adler is no less disingenuous.” he looked at the Judge.

Frank shifted slightly as Judge Nicholls looked at Polland, then to Evelyn, then to him before he turned glanced at the notes in front of him.

“While the state of Florida gives deference to nomination by natural parent, I'm inclined to side with Mr. Cullen's laptop at this time.” he said, nodding at Cullen, effectively dismissing the affidavit. Frank allowed himself a relieved smile as Cullen nodded.

“Thank you, your Honor”

Once court was adjourned for the day, Frank obligingly walked his mother to her car when she asked him to. And as they walked, she told him about his step father Walter. Frank had found it odd how he wasn’t featuring in any of this, but his silent question was answered as Evelyn told him he moved out and bought a ranch in Montana.

“Bullshit.” Frank exclaimed as they walked in the sun, his suit jacket handing over his arm.

“Exactly. A man whose idea of roughing it is being too far from the ice machine at the Ritz Carlton now owns a thousand acres of grass and dung.”

“Walter Price is a cowboy.” Frank smiled, shaking his head, making a mental not to tell Fliss later. “Walter Price puts on a Brooke's brother suit to take out the garbage!”

“Well, now he has a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and a horse that doesn't know dressage.” Evelyn shook her head.

“Is there some logical reason for this?” Frank asked.

“Midlife crisis, apparently.”

“He's seventy.” Frank scoffed

“I know. Must have been on time delay or something. I guess I should be happy it wasn't a twent-five year old cocktail waitress. But then again an affair you can explain to friends in a minute. For this, you put on a pot of coffee.”

“And he's out there right now?”

“Yessiree!” Evelyn imitated a Western accent. “Riding the range!”

Frank lost himself for a moment as he and his mother joked, mocking exactly what his Step Father would look like. He hated to admit it, but at times like this he was reminded how similar he was to his mother. Same dry sense of humour, no nonsense nature…

“The fastest asset management in the West.” he snorted and Evelyn smiled.

“The man who shot Liberty Mutual. That's what I've been calling him” she said as they stopped at her car.

“That's really, really funny.” Frank chuckled, and then sighed as his mother opened the car door. He leaned down and spoke to the driver. “Take her to the airport.” he said, straightening up. “Go home, Evelyn. Or Montana. Rustle some cattle.” he said gently.

“You know I have no desire to hurt you. I hate it that we're at odds.”

And then, he was also reminded just how different they were too.

“We're always at odds.” he shrugged.

“Yes.” She said, almost sadly before she climbed in the car. “Hotel.” she instructed her driver, closing the door.

**** As anticipated, when he broke the news to Mary about her father, she had a meltdown and locked herself in the bathroom. No amount of coaxing from him or Roberta would draw her out. She was sobbing about how her dad didn’t want her…and then Frank was struck with an idea and he pulled out his phone to call in reinforcement which arrived in the shape of Fliss some twenty minutes later.

“I still can’t believe that wank stain was even given the time of day.” Fliss seethed as Frank greeted her outside. “I mean…”

“It’s done, his claim was thrown out but...”Frank nodded to where Roberta was stood outside locked bathroom door.

“Why you had to tell her that waste of oxygen was testifying I’ve no idea.” the woman shot him a look.

“Because it's the truth. And if I didn't, Evelyn would've.” Frank reasoned.

“If I was the dad of a little girl and I never saw her and I was in the same town. I would visit her.” Fliss heard Mary’s crying and Frank saw her face scrunch up in sympathy. “He didn't even need directions. He could've followed you here.”

“Ok, Roberta, can you…” Fliss asked gently. Roberta stood to the side and Fliss spoked to the door. “Mary, sweetheart, it’s me.”

“Lissy?” Mary sniffled.

“The one and only.” Fliss smiled, before she sighed “You know what, you’re right. He could have come to see you. But he didn’t. And that sucks, but it has nothing to do with you.”

“He doesn't even wanna see what I look like.” The girl sobbed again.

“You know I never met my dad either.” Fliss said gently “He abandoned my mum before I was born, made no attempt to see me at all, and then he was killed when I was 4 months old. He died without ever seeing my face. And you know what?”

“What?” Mary sniffed.

“That was his loss.” Fliss continued. “And then my mom met Bill when I was two, and he’s been my dad ever since. He looked after me and loved me, just like Frank does for you.” Fliss glanced at him and he dropped his hand from where it had been cupping his chin, folding his arms round his chest as he shot her a small smile. “Like we all do Mary, you’re so loved. By Frank, Roberta, me…” Fliss continued, “Now come on, open the door.”

There was a pause and they heard a rustle, before the lock on the door clicked and it opened. Mary stood in the doorway, her eyes red and wet from tears before she gave another sob and threw herself at Fliss. Fliss crouched down on one knee and held her back, gently rocking her and Frank felt his chest tighten at the display of affection.

And then he had an idea.

He crouched next to them, his hand gently reaching out to brush Mary’s hair back as she turned her head which was on Fliss’ shoulder to look at him.

“Put your shoes on. We're going for a ride.” he said to her softly. Then he turned to Fliss “You too, that is if you want to.”

“Sure.” she nodded.

“Roberta?” Frank looked at her, and she shook her head.

“Your truck only got three seats.” “We can take mine.” Fliss offered as Mary gently released her.

“No, I think you two got this.” she said, with a knowing smile.

*******

“What are we doing here?” Mary asked as they sat on the seats in the waiting room and Fliss found herself wondering the same thing. She hadn’t questioned Frank, he obviously had something up his sleeve.

“Waiting.”

“We can see that.” Fliss replied playfully, and he looked at her, rolling his eyes as Mary continued.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” he shrugged, returning to the National Geographic magazine he was flicking through.

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes. And keep your voice down. It's a hospital.”

As long as it takes turned out to be an hour and a half. Through which time Mary had groaned, moaned, used Frank’s legs as a climbing frame, which Fliss noticed he had expertly ignored simply slouching in his seat, legs apart as Mary draped herself over them. Eventually she had curled up next to Fliss and laid her head on her lap, dozing off.

Fliss was busy reading something on her emails when she heard a bit of a commotion and the group at the other side of the waiting room all stood up. Frank’s eyes flew to them and then he gently gave Fliss a smile before he nudged Mary awake.

She blinked and watched as a man walked into the waiting room dressed in scrubs, a huge smile on his face.

“It's a boy.” he announced and the group erupted into cheers. Fliss glanced down at Mary who was watching in awe as everyone started to congratulate the man, all crying, sobbing with happiness, cheering, praising the lord.

“That's exactly how it was when you were born.” Frank spoke softly and Fliss then understood. He was showing Mary that she was loved, that she was wanted.

“This happy?” Mary asked

“This happy.” Frank confirmed.

“Who came out and told everybody?” she asked, and Frank leaned over gently brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I did.”

The emotion of the moment got to Fliss and her eyes watered. Frank raised his head and they shared a look as he smiled and she smiled back before Mary piped up.

“Can we stay for another?”

So they did, and when the next family all celebrated Mary jumped up, heading over to the group. They all smiled at her as she was swept into their celebrations. Fliss reached over and gently took Frank’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze, a gesture he returned until Mary came back and pulled Fliss over to the group with her. Frank leaned back and watched as Fliss simply smiled and wiped her eyes as she congratulated the family and he let out a sigh, swallowing slightly, lost in his thoughts.

Eventually the family all dispersed to go and see their new arrival and he told Mary that it was too late to stay for another. She fell asleep on the way home against Fliss and when they got home it was a careful manoeuvre to get her out of the car without waking her up. He gently placed her in bed before he walked Fliss down to her car.

“Thank you.” he broke the silence. “You were amazing before. You’re just amazing full stop.” he said, trailing off.

She blushed slightly and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I mean it Lissy…” he sighed, “You just…”

He hesitated for a second before he reached out and gently placed his hand on her hip, pulling her softly towards him

“Frank.” she protested softly as his face dropped towards hers, her hands gently on his chest keeping him away from her “Look, I, ”

“I’m sorry.” he swallowed, his head dropping as he sighed at her rejection “You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s not even three weeks ago you were in bed with another woman.” she looked at him and he grimaced, pulling away.

“I know and I really wish that hadn’t happened” he sighed, the hand that had been on her hip moved and ran through his hair “My head was fucked and…”

“How do I know it isn’t now?” Fliss looked at him “How do I, or you for that matter, know that this…” she gestured between them with her hand “…isn’t just an emotional response to what’s going on as well?”

“Because it’s not.” he shook his head, his eyes not leaving hers as he drove his message home “I care about you Fliss, more than just as friends, and I’m kicking myself now because what I did means you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” she took deep breath, as she looked down at her hands, the fingers of her right hand fiddling with her left. “And it’s not that I don’t feel the same.” She looked up at him, her voice quiet.

At her words a soft smile formed on his face as she continued to talk.

“But right now, you need to concentrate on Mary, and getting through this week.”

He nodded, swallowing “Yeah, I know, you’re right.”

She smiled, and reached up, taking his face in her soft hands. “But I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” her eyes locked onto his “And whatever this is,” she gestured between them once more, “if it’s right, then it’ll still be there when this is all over.”

She stood on her tip toes to place a gentle kiss to side of his mouth and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he swallowed. They stayed like that for a moment until Fliss backed away gently, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he frowned

“Yeah, the Wicked Witch of The West is testifying is she not?”

Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she is.” “Like I said, you’re not alone. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched her climb in her car and waited until the tail lights had disappeared before he turned and headed inside. Finally all the cards were on the table, and it hadn’t been a rejection, quite the opposite actually.

For the first time in days, Frank slept soundly that night.

**** Chapter 8

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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justanobsessedfangirl · 3 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy - Chapter 6 - The Maze Runner Newt Fic

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list...or if I was supposed to tag you and I forgot...

Word Count: 2.8k

The boys carried Alby to the Med-Jack Hut as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. At first, he twitched infrequently, muttering softly, but then he was writhing and screaming in agony, twisting this way and that, biting at Gladers like a feral animal.

Once inside the Hut, he only grew louder. You watched as Clint administered the serum that would save Alby’s life, and you heard as Alby’s roars turned guttural.

It hurt to watch them tie him to the bed. How could someone as strong as Alby, the leader of the whole Glade for as long as you’d been there, be reduced to that?

It was all too much. Too much pain, too much loss, too much grief. As Alby shrieked in one room with Newt by his side, Minho and Thomas were patched up in another, and you slipped out the door. You paced the length of the building, came back to the door, turned around again, reached the end of the building, turned around, again and again and again, trying to beat the thoughts out of your brain.

Fear and relief fought for dominance over your emotions. You wanted to grieve for Alby, to celebrate for Minho and Thomas. You wanted to cry big fat tears of sadness, and you wanted to smile so hard your eyes welled up.

How could you be at once terrified for Alby and immeasurably happy for Minho and Thomas? How could Alby get handed a death sentence, but Thomas kill a Griever? Who had designed this cruel twist of fate?

Your steps never slowed as you began shifting the blame onto the people who put you in the Glade.

It’s their fault. It’s all their fault. Every single life lost in here, every nightmare, every frown. The Creators did this.

The Hut door creaked open. You whirled around, expecting Minho or Thomas or Newt, expecting a sign of hope, and saw Margaret.

Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail, giving her an air of self-assurance. The way she held herself was so much stronger than that girl who’d cowered in the Box that you almost did a double-take.

Instead, with your thoughts bouncing from one worry to the next, a question from the back of your mind spilled out. “I thought you worked in the Gardens?”

If Margaret was surprised by your question, she didn’t show it. Right then, she seemed unshakeable. “I was helping for the day,” she replied. She wiped her hands on her jeans, leaving behind dark bloody streaks that made your insides grow cold, then looked back to you, raising her chin proudly. “I’ve been spending the rest of my time with Clint and Jeff.”

Except for when you were making out with Newt--you forced the thought away. That was over. Done. You’d made a kind of peace with Newt; you could do the same with Margaret, especially after she came to Alby’s aid.

You’d been kneeling next to Alby, only a few feet from the Maze doors, just staring at the sting. The grass had tickled your knees. The wind had whispered through your hair. You had only stared.

And then Margaret was there. She’d nudged you out of your dumbfounded stupor, moving you enough that she could start applying pressure to Alby’s sting. When she barked out orders, Gladers leapt to obey. She’d made you a glorified table, shoving supplies into your hands until she was ready for them, and you would’ve thanked her if you could get any words out because she was saving Alby’s life. You’d stuck to her side and held bandages the entire time they carried Alby to the Med-Jack Hut.

“Clint says the Grief Serum will save Alby, and Thomas and Minho are fine, except for a few cuts and bruises.” Margaret’s voice was soft, matching her smile. “And Minho says he’s starved, but he’s just being dramatic.”

An unintentional grin pulled at your lips, bringing a reprieve from the memory of Alby’s wound. “Good to know he’s still a diva. I was worried.”

“It was really brave of all of them to go in...there. I don’t know how you Runners do that.”

Your smile slipped away. Alby shouldn’t have been there, not with just Minho. Not without you. And if you had gone, maybe Thomas never would have needed to go, to witness the true horrors that roamed the Maze at night. You picked your words carefully. “I don’t know how you Med-Jacks do what you do.” There it was again, behind your eyes: the hole in Alby’s stomach. Remembering the look on Alby’s face brought a wave of nausea. “Don’t you feel guilty--” your words were cut off when a howl of agony rose from the Med-Jack Hut. You winced, but Margaret squared her shoulders and ducked back inside.

You lingered by the door. Your feet itched to run away, as far as you could, anywhere where you wouldn’t have to hear anymore. They refused to take a single step closer to the building. It took every ounce of your restraint to even stay rooted near the Hut.

I will not run. You repeated it like a mantra. I will not run I will not run I will not run-

Margaret appeared again. She nodded at you, a confident Everything is under control nod, and closed the door behind her, leaving the pair of you alone outside once more.

“If you’re stung and you don’t get the Serum, you die,” Margaret stated. “If you do get the Serum, you live.”

“But you have to go through that.” You pointed at the door. Behind it, you could strain your ears and hear the sound of Alby pulling at his restraints, bucking wildly on the bed, just like he had been when you left. “And after you go through that, you still might end up crazy.” You spat the words out, even though it wasn’t Margaret’s fault Ben tried to murder Thomas. It wasn’t Margaret’s fault Ben was dead or Alby was stung or everything was changing.

“But you have a chance.”

It was so simple you didn’t know how to respond.

Margaret continued. “We gave Alby a chance. That’s all we can do.” She let her words hang in the air for a few seconds, then took a small step forward. “And…well…I was hoping you could give me a chance too. Time is so precious here. I don’t want to waste any more of it.”

You caught a glimpse of determination in her green eyes before you looked away, back to the door, hoping for Minho or Thomas or Newt to walk out so you could leave. Your heartbeat picked up, your muscles readied themselves for a sprint. You didn’t want to hear her apologize -- if she apologized then who could you be mad at? Who should you be mad at? How was it okay to try being friends with Newt if you didn’t give Margaret another chance too?

“Y/N, I want you to know that I’m really sorry.”

You nearly bolted.

Margaret kept talking, her voice smooth and calm, like she was trying to coax a feral animal into a trap. “When I first came up in the Box, I was so scared.”

“We all were.”

Margaret nodded. There wasn’t a trace of anger on her face. You almost wanted there to be, because then you would have an excuse to get mad. You wouldn’t have to stand here and try to be an adult, try to have a rational conversation. You could blow up and run away and not have to feel guilty because she was mad too.

“I was terrified, like everyone is when they arrive,” Margaret said. And when I saw that there were only boys, I was even more scared. I know you probably felt that way too.”

You said nothing, but memories of the day you woke up in the Box still plagued your nightmares sometimes, especially recently, now that you slept alone. The fear of the unknown as the elevator rose. The panic upon seeing all boys. The deep, freezing, overwhelming horror when you saw the walls.

“Seeing another girl helped,” Margaret’s voice had your full attention, but you couldn’t look at her. You kept your gaze steady on the door. “And Newt helped too. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear that.”

“He helps everyone when they get here.” You were too defensive. He didn’t deserve you being so defensive. Were you acting like this to protect Newt or because you wanted to go against Margaret?

It’s for Newt, one part of your mind thought, while another part raged against her.

Margaret nodded again. “He really helped me adjust to being here. He’s a good leader. We...we spent a lot of time in the Gardens together the first few days.”

It was starting to get painful. You squeezed your eyes shut, but that only made you picture them together. He was smiling the way he only did for you, or the way he used to do for you, and it made your chest ache.

Margaret quickly said, “We weren’t doing anything, though! It was just friendly. We were just friends.”

“Friends don’t kiss,” you spat. In only three words, you’d channeled enough anger to make Margaret go pale. The confidence she had from being in her element was drifting away, her shoulders drawing in, her arms wrapping around herself. She was shrinking before your eyes.

You felt a stab of guilt.

“We only kissed once, I swear! And it didn’t mean anything! Not to either of us. He was comforting me and it just happened. I was upset because…” Margaret trailed off. She took a deep breath. “I was upset because I didn’t feel like I could contribute. I didn’t want everyone thinking I was just another mouth to feed. I didn’t want to be someone who couldn’t help out, who just took. I want to help. I need to help. I wanted to be,” Margaret crossed her arms across her chest as if daring you to argue, “I wanted to be as dependable as you, not some weak girl who could barely dig a hole.”

You thought you must have misheard her, but she was looking at you earnestly, her eyes bright and her mouth set into a firm line.

“And I did find something I can do. I’m a Med-Jack.” She wasn’t trying to squeeze herself into a tight ball anymore. Margaret stood there, a far cry from the scared girl who’d come up in the Box, and said, “I’m proud of where I am, but there are still a lot of things I wish I could take back. You know the main one, but I won’t go into it. I don’t think you want me to.”

You quickly shook your head. Staring at her, at the true version of Margaret, not the one who’d been warped by bitter, angry memories, made you let out a weak laugh. “I’d rather get stung by a Griever.”

A small, playful smile crept onto Margaret’s face. It was shy and timid and eager -- the kind of smile a teenager is supposed to have. “I could fix you up after.” Her tone edged the border between serious and light.

At some point, your eyes had locked onto hers. You let them drift now, glancing to the door. “I bet you could.” You took a deep breath. “Thank you. For saving Alby. And helping the others. You do contribute to the Glade.”

Margaret’s face opened to a sweet, satisfied grin. “Thank you.”

She looked like she was waiting for you to say more. The door started to open, so you rushed out, “And maybe we could try being friends.” Then you darted towards Minho, reaching him when he only had one foot in the grass, and threw your arms around him.

Minho’s laugh sounded like music. “Careful, I’m delicate!” he complained as Thomas slunk out behind him.

You scoffed and pulled away to jab Minho in the side. “No, you’re not.”

When you looked up at him, it was all you could do not to hug him again. Aside from a few scratches and a small bruise on his cheekbone, he looked exactly like the person you’d spent months running through the Maze with. He looked exactly like your partner.

Alby’s wailing shattered your peace. You and Minho moved away from the Med-Jack Hut. He nudged the door closed with his foot.

Minho’s demeanor had darkened at the sound of Alby. There was less joy in his voice when he said, “We’re having a Gathering today.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Because of him?” You jerked your chin at Thomas.

Thomas shrugged and muttered, “You mean this isn’t what Greenies usually do?”

Margaret giggled.

Turning back to Minho, you asked, hope lacing your words, “You’re going to make him a Runner, right?”

“I’m going to try.” Shaking his head, Minho added, “Some shanks are upset about what he did, though.”

The corners of your lips pulled down. You’d heard Gladers talking while they passed by the Med-Jack Hut when you’d been waiting. Most had been in awe of Thomas’s bravery, but a few, namely one loud-mouthed blond Builder, couldn’t get over the fact that Thomas had broken a rule. “What did Newt say?”

Minho heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s on our side, but who knows how the Gathering will go. If Gally picks up steam…”

You shook your head, directing your attention to Thomas. “I’m with you. You should be considered a hero.” Thomas ducked his head, but you weren’t sure if he was embarrassed or reliving last night’s dark memories. You kept talking. “What you did took ten times more courage than Gally has ever shown. Newt knows that too.”

“Newt knows what?” Newt’s voice rose over the creak of the door opening. As he emerged from the Med-Jack Hut, he looked as though he’d aged 10 years. Already, you could see the stress settling on his shoulders, weighing him down.

There was a yearning inside of you to pull him close and take as much of the burden as you could, like you’d done for each other in the past.

But that was the past and this was your present, so you said, “You know Thomas should be a Runner. He killed a Griever. We need him.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince, love.” Newt glanced at the sky, where the afternoon sun hung heavy and golden. “But I guess it’s time to find out how everyone else feels.” With that, he started walking in the direction of the Homestead.

Nearly everyone looked as surprised as you felt by Newt’s abruptness.

Margaret was the exception. She still wore that confident, serene expression when she said, “Good luck, everyone. I’m on your side too, Thomas, if that counts for anything.”

“Thanks.” Thomas watched Margaret until she disappeared into the Hut and shut the door behind her. When she was gone, he shook his head, as if clearing his mind, then shifted his focus to Minho and you.

“I’m going to walk with Newt. I’ll see you guys in a bit?” You didn’t wait for a reply. After a few seconds of light jogging, you were next to Newt.

He was frowning. Everything about him was moving down; his eyebrows were drawn together, the bags under his eyes were heavy, the corners of his lips pointed south, and he walked like a man going to his execution.

“You can do this, Newt.” The words flowed freely. “You can be the leader. You can figure this out.”

Newt stared straight ahead. “I’ve never run a Gathering without Alby. I don’t know what to do with that empty seat next to me.” The accent over his words was thick.

You didn’t second guess yourself when you reached out and took his hand. Immediately, he squeezed, gripping you like you were a life preserver and he was drowning. “Alby will be okay.”

“He won’t be the same.”

“But he has a chance.” Those were Margaret’s words coming out of your mouth, but you found yourself believing them more as you said them. “He has a chance, and we have a chance. To escape.”

With every step you took, you grew closer to the Homestead and Newt’s posture straightened.

He looked down at you. His eyes were deep pools of brown, so soft and warm you wanted to drift asleep right there. “We have a chance,” he repeated.

The two of you stopped outside the Homestead door. Your hand slipped out of his. For a second, your pinkies stayed joined, like you were promising each other that you would take your chance.

Then you broke apart.

Tag List:

@anyasthoughts @mara-twins @anapocalypseinmymind @maddeleinegrace @xmberkxm @dreamerinthesun @hungermazes @harpersmariano

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Feelings

Everyone knew not to approach the Overseer when he was in one of his moods, marked by him walking around the Safe Zone wall and staring off into the distance, into the infested city. His moods were strangely calm - he never yelled, never spoke a cruel word, but he had a way of looking them... In one of the few times it was discussed by the residents of the Zone, Damon had described that look as a predator sizing up his prey and finding it not worth the effort of the hunt. The only people unafraid of the Overseer in his moods was Matthew, who usually muttered that Lawrence used to act like that all the time before the Disaster and how he was used to it...

And Ethan, who trusted and was trusted by Lawrence too much to care about such looks.

The Survival expert approached Lawrence, who was standing at the top of the ten meter high wall, a thermos of tea in his hand that he periodically sipped from. Winter was coming and the air was biting, in to Ethan in his thick cloak, but Lawrence was dressed in his usual duster.

Ethan stood beside Lawrence, overlooking the infected city. He didn’t want to do this - he was horrible with feelings, even at 28 - but his conscious wouldn’t let Lawrence suffer alone. “What’s on your mind?”

He could feel Lawrence’s eyes appraise him, though he didn’t turn to look. “...Hmm...” Lawrence sipped his tea. “I think you already know.”

He did. Only two subjects worked Lawrence up so much that he would discard his genial mask.

Their former group.

And the nameless Her.

“I do,” Ethan admitted, though both subjects made him uncomfortable. “Which one is it?”

“Both, for once.” Ethan hadn’t expected that answer. “I keep imagining would have happened if we had found her back then, during the first few months of the outbreak. She could have lived with us in the school. Maybe she would even be alive now...”

Or she would have died with the rest of them, Ethan finished the sentence in his head. The destruction of their old group was something neither party liked to acknowledge, especially with how they both blamed themselves for the other’s deaths. Or at least, Ethan thought Lawrence blamed himself; it would explain why he was so overprotective - some would say tyrannical - of the residents of the Safe Zone, why he insisted on micromanaging every project.

Lawrence prefered to let Ethan think that he felt guilt over their group’s destruction. After so many years, he considered the older man/bodyguard a friend, and would hate to strife with him over something so trivial.

It had started with Judy. Poor, cheerful, stupid Judy, who had managed to find a poster for the Safe Zone on patrol despite his diligence. She had ran to show him and, thinking fast, he lured her into a swarm of zombies, destroying the evidence at the same time. But that had spooked Jay, who got himself killed on patrol, and then Scarlet had to kick up a fuss about his leadership. Well, he wasn’t going to let that slide, and poisoned her precious lip balm. That led to Sue figuring him out, so she had to go too. Then their was six - Ethan, himself, Zion, Hailey, Eugene, and Harry.

Hailey just had to find a poster for the Safe Zone and showed it off to the rest of the group. He was outvoted on going, even Ethan wanting to leave his protection, despite no one knowing anything about how that Safe Zone was run or if it would last. So, the morning they were to leave, he rigged the school alarm to go off. The hoard of undead tore through his dependents, those leeches, as he escaped to the basement. Ethan surviving was a surprise; an unpleasant one at first since he had gone against him, but useful in the long run.

Together, no longer having to worry about feeding freeloaders, they managed to fix up the school’s fence, build the beginnings of his own Safe Zone while the other one was destroyed in a year (they didn’t know about how zombies are attracted to sound, ha!). And now, he was Overseer. Lawrence regretted nothing.

Although... he did wonder what she would think about his rise to power. Not that he would ever tell her what he did - she was too kind and delicate for that sort of horror - but she was smart. Brilliant, unlike the other morons his parents forced him to tutor before the outbreak. Surely, she would understand the necessity of sacrifice.

“So, it’s like this, Lawrence-oppa?”

“Exactly! You catch onto math so quickly; I don’t know why you need a tutor in the first place.”

“Because Mr. Smith can’t compare to your teaching methods, oppa. I swear, he makes his lessons confusing on purpose...”

“If my style is what works for you, then I suppose you’ll have to keep coming back. I don’t mind; I enjoy spending time with you.”

Lawrence sighed as the memory washed over him. Her face was burry in his memory, her voice unclear, and he despised that she was slowly fading from his memory. At least he still had her eyes; they were clear to him, a bright blue that sparkled like sapphires even under the harsh fluorescent lights of the library.

He knew she was probably dead. He hated it, the idea that she was torn apart by some monster or had joined their ranks, terrified and out of his reach as she died. He would have sacrificed his own life to save hers, he knew. But such a fate was not his own.

His Safe Zone was dedicated to her despite this. If she ever showed up, if she ever returned to him, he would place her on a pedestal to keep her safe. He yearned for it, his heart aching everyday because he knew that she wasn’t within his grasp.

Lawrence and Ethan stood vigilant over the land, watching in silence for several minutes, and slowly, a group became visible through the dilapidated buildings. Ethan squinted, his eyes better than Lawrence. “Is that... group Gamma?”

Hunters, Lawrence remembered. But... “There’s too many of them.”

Groups out of the Zone were limited to three people, to keep noise at a minimum. Group Gamma had at least twice that many. “They found survivors,” Ethan said, reaching the same conclusion he had.

Lawrence faked a smile, finishing the last of his tea and shoving his emotional weakness back into the box it came from. “We should go greet them, then.”

And appraise them. If you weren’t doing anything in the shelter, you were removed, simple as that. People who didn’t work, who didn’t put in the effort (like Jay, like Scarlet, like Hailey, his mind whispered) were unwelcome here.

They left the wall and approached, picking their way through the Zone to reach the gate Group Gamma was aiming for. It didn’t take long for the group to enter. Lawrence easily picked out and dismissed the members of Group Gamma, focusing on the newcomers. There was a red-headed woman who seemed to be leader (a fighter, maybe?), a large man who stayed close to her (he’d do well in the construction zone), a young girl (possibly a child, so he’d have to let her stay regardless, to avoid angering the rest of the zone), and a brown-haired woman.

It was the brown-haired woman he focused on as they got closer. She didn’t look like much, small as she was, but her hair was cropped close to her head, a mask was over her face to prevent any blood or viscera from entering her mouth, and the pipe in her hands was worn from use. A fighter, clearly, and by the way she stood close to the others, she had been in their group for a long time. But nothing to explain why he focused on her so...

Their approach was finally noticed, and the woman looked Lawrence in the eyes. He stopped in his tracks and the woman froze, her beautiful, sapphire eyes growing wide.

“Lawrence-oppa?” Her voice was hoarse from disuse, but Lawrence could still hear the happy, hopeful quality that suddenly surged forth inside his memory.

Lawrence smiled as something inside of him finally settled, as if the deepest part inside of him relaxed when the locked eyes and said, Ah, there you are. His eyes softened in a way no one in the Safe Zone had seen before. “Hello, MC.”

So, this came out of a desire to figure out which ending from DFel Dangerous Shelters came from. My idea was... it wasn’t any of them, not even the Secret Ending. Basically, in this universe, MC never came across the DFel boys; instead, she ended up with the group from Havenless (And I haven’t finished that game, so I don’t know how appropriate that is, but don’t tell me!).

So, thanks for reading. If you want to support my work, buy me a coffee. If you know how to get Lawrence’s ending in Dangerous Shelters, send me a message, I’m desperate and keep getting the Caretaker ending, I need help.

#dangerous fellows #dangerous shelter #lawrence dfel #ethan dfel #mc dfel #overseer dangerous shelter #dangerous fellows lawrence #dangerous fellows ethan #dangerous fellows mc #mc stop calling lawrence oppa #you're like 27 #lawrence/mc #say what you will about lawrence but at least he's consistent #dangerous feelings

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Text

A/N: Timeskip Lev make me go BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF AAARF ARF. P.S: For double the experience, read while listening to this

diapason. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev meets you again and you develop some sort of warm reconnection with your past underclassman. (Continuation of this fic)

word count: 4402

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) a full, rich outpouring of melodious sound

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

The Danube Canal in mid-winter reminds you of a lot of things:

The Shakujii River flanked with its timeless parade of cherry blossom trees. Christmas celebrations spent at home with your family, popping bottles of soda and whining about misshapen gifts. Your piano recitals played in utter devotion, like the winter would never end.

You’re a long, long way away from home, and you start to hope if anyone is missing you. If there’s a hole in your figure carved into someone’s heart back in Japan or some place in the other side of the world—

What am I thinking... you sigh, bashfully urging yourself to keep on walking.

Nestling deeper into the warmth of your wool scarf, you wonder if it’s the cold ambience of the night that’s making you feel all sappy. Twinkling lights, murmured chatter from late-night cafés, the occasional gust of wind against your cheeks. You never thought you’d get so nostalgic on your “vacation”, but perhaps you’re just like any other hopeless romantic.

“Come to Vienna! A whirlwind of budding love!”

You’d read that advertisement in one of the catalogues your symphony’s personnel manager had excitedly dumped into your lap the day she announced your personal invitation to spectate the Vienna Philharmonic live a few weeks ago. You didn’t think much of the slogan, but even so... you have to admit you’re a tad bit lonely, aren’t you?

You can barely remember a moment where you didn’t feel lonely. You had your family at home, but you’d considered it your fault for being such a shut-in for the most part of your life. The neighborhood kids weren’t exactly the nicest people. And school life hadn’t been much of an improvement either.

Of course, until him.

A colossal first year stumbling into the desolate Orchestra Club room, with a mouth just as big as his stature. Haiba Lev who had been anxiously lost that day you’d met. With such little sense of direction, you can’t help but laugh at how much times he’d managed to find you in that maze of your high school.

He’d find you, talk to you, laugh with you. And you’d never felt all the rushing feelings you’d felt when you were with this dewy-eyed boy. He was the perfect image of confidence—radiant, ambitious and all the more charming.

If only you can thank him. Your hero of sorts. Haiba Lev who poured into you all the faith he had so you could move forward—

“A-ah, excuse me?”

Whipping your head into the direction of the choppy English, a seething blush rises onto your cheeks when you zero in to the large camera lens pointed right at you.

The bearded man speaks again. “Eh... you’re Japanese, aren’t you? Sorry, but we’re having a photoshoot right now, and you’re in the way of our model. Could you maybe...”

Oh dear, you frazzle. Prostrating yourself incessantly at the camera crew, you blunder. “I’m v-very sorry! Waah, I must’ve ruined your picture!”

“It’s fine,” the man smiles kindly. “Things like this often happen anyway. Ain’t that right, Hafu-sama?”

The lean figure behind you laughs, and for a second, you feel your chest flutter in your throat when you hear him. “Yep! Don’t worry about it, Miss—”

You really wish you hadn’t turned around because the moment your eyes locked with a pair of emeralds, you swear that your heart leapt out of your chest. All feeling of chilliness lamented, you feel red heat stretching out across your skin.

“H-Haiba-kun?!”

Unable to keep your footing steady, a stagnant lump rises in your throat when the familiar man grins at you with galaxies in his eyes.

“Fairy-senpai!!”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. October 2012.

“Senpai!”

Footsteps echoing down the corridor, a wave of frightened third years part to let the gigantic creature of a first year through. Haiba Lev, age 16, is excited. Haiba Lev, 194.3 centimeters tall, is burning with so much resolve that he pays no heed to the Discipline Committee member who is resentfully yelling at him to “stop running in the hallways, you hoodlum!”

But who could blame him?

When you turn around and jolt in surprise, Lev drowns in the tiny fairies that flutter in his chest.

“Haiba-kun? What are you doing here?” you take a moment to register his full presence—considering his substantial size, Lev would probably understand your current disposition.

Finally, you whisper in a low tone, highly aware of the crowd that’s pivoting towards your conversation. “... Did you get lost again?”

“Of course not!” Lev replies rather gruffly. “I wanted to look for you to give you this so I can thank you for when I got lost.”

Thrusting a daintily wrapped bento towards you, the tall boy is rather unabashed about the entire situation—lace cloth and all. There’s a fragrant steam seeping out from the gaps of the box, spooling and wafting (and you think your ears pick up the noise of someone’s rumbling stomach).

You’d thought of spending your lunch alone in your club room, or maybe even the rooftop if you were up for it... like the usual. But the moment Lev starts talking again, you completely forget the idea as a whole.

Innocently grinning, he asks, “Do you want to eat lunch together, L/N-senpai?”

How could you say no?

And thus, here you are in the courtyard with a titan first-year who is nearly twice your size, jovially chattering about as you quietly eat your lunch.

When was the last time you ate something so cute? Your parents stopped making you character bentos since you got into middle school (“Aah... sorry, Y/N. Dad’s hands aren’t as artistic as they used to be,” your father had told you that day, an utter look of guilt dancing across his face). You weren’t too confident in your own skills either, so bentos with endearing faces and shaped cut-outs of vegetables were simply a fragmented piece of the past.

First-years today are so talented, you think, shoveling down your meal in sheer politeness. “This is delicious, Haiba-kun! The chicken is so tender and the rice is so well-seasoned! I wish I had your sense for cooking...”

“My sister made it, actually. I tried to help her cut the eggs, but it ended up being a mess and she told me to just sit and wait in the dining room,” he replies sheepishly, a bubble of laughter slipping from between his lips. “I’m glad you like it though, Senpai! Just wait ‘til my sister hears about your reaction!”

“Does your sister always make your lunches for you?” you ask, curiosity subduing your reserve.

Lev takes a moment to swallow the lump of rice in his mouth.

“Mm, sometimes. If she’s not having a lecture in the morning, she’ll make breakfast. Otherwise, the teriyaki set at the cafeteria is just as good!”

Cafeteria. You shiver. That hellhole of shoving and scrambling and incessant talking... You’re thankful the school had decided to set up a few more vending machines close to campus when you entered your second year.

And then you think of Lev. With that extreme height and intimidating presence, he wouldn’t have to put his foot on the line every time he wanted melon bread, right? And he is definitely the type of person to be able to talk to the loud cafeteria lady without dropping his change.

Confidence. Recklessness. Bliss. All the prime features you wanted, right in front of you—and yet...

“Hey, L/N-senpai?” you snap awake from your thoughts. A dash of concern flashes over your underclassman’s features before he repeats his muted question. “Can I have one of your sausages?”

Peering down at the cluster of uneaten octopus sausages, you quickly nod, face reddening once you realize how close Lev is breathing near you. “G-Go ahead.”

Chirping out a “thank you for the food!”, the silver-haired boy swoops down on a miniature octopus, a sound of immense satisfaction humming in his chest. He’s like a child, you laugh to yourself. A young boy with no sense of care of the world, no concern of what’s going to happen to him unless he really does it.

Leaning back on the bench, you sigh, a smile dawning on your face. “You didn’t have to force yourself to eat lunch with me, you know. I usually eat by myself anyway.”

You’re being apologetic again. You want to punch yourself for even thinking of it. But your habit precedes your intentions, and you can already feel the mood turn sour—

“Why not though?”

Looking up at him incredulously, you can barely string together a coherent response before Lev pipes up again.

“Isn’t food always best when eaten together?”

How pretentious.

There are already valleys of flowers blooming in your stomach at his innocent reply. The same kind that sprouted the day he’d burst into your private practice room. You really hoped you wouldn’t get ahead of yourself anymore. Not with the risks that it carried. But this guileless first year was a much more difficult case than you’d imagined, and thus the flowers go into full blossom.

You smile, the faint blush on Lev’s cheeks going unnoticed. “Yeah. We should eat together more often.”

And so you did. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. The passage of time a trivial shadow beneath your budding happiness.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

“You work in a symphony?! Senpai’s job is super cool!”

Under the amber light of the cafe’s chandelier, you can’t help but feel a certain déjà vu at your current situation. Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re having tea with your high school underclassman, or maybe it’s simply the residue of your more recent wistful thinking.

Yet again, it still hasn’t registered into your mind how you’d miraculously manifested Lev into proximity just from your sheer yearning... You kind of feel selfish.

“It’s just a freelance job though, it’s probably not as impressive as being a model,” you say.

Lev crosses his arms huffily, and you worry if you’ve started to offend him. Until he opens his mouth again. “Modelling is suuuper embarassing. Sometimes, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that ‘that’s my face!’ or ‘I made that pose with that other model’. The agency’s really harsh on the way I dress too—I mean, what’s wrong with wearing a shirt that says ‘HERBIVORE’ to go to Lawson’s?”

You stifle a giggle as he rambles on about “the time I had to cross-dress as a woman because the female model quit on the day of the shoot”. For someone who had grown up to be a lean, rather attractive figure, you can’t shake your head away from the thought that the 16-year old Haiba Lev is still stuck inside the body of a corporate slave. There’s a sense of relief that accompanies the feeling, and memories of your high school days slowly come into picture—

“One black tea and a latte for the lovely couple?” a kind-looking waiter gently sidles in between you, cutting Lev off from his rant, and you from your reflection.

Turning a vivid shade of crimson, you stutter, “O-oh... we are not—”

“Thank you,” Lev grins dashingly, enough to make your heart race and a few passers-by to stop in their tracks.

Once the waiter retreats back into the pantry, the man across you slowly leans forward to whisper endearingly. “My sister wants me to practice my English while I’m abroad. You think I got my message across, Senpai?”

“You did well, Haiba-kun.” There are a lot of things you want to ask him really. If he really knew the meaning behind the waiter’s sentence. Or if he realized he’d nearly pronounced ‘you’ with an extra ‘th’.

... Or why he’s pouring in a mound of sugar into your cup of tea.

“H-Haiba-kun, that order’s mine...”

“Hm? Yeah, I know,” he mutters, the soft clinking of the spoon against glass echoing in your head. “You like your stuff really sweet, right? Man, I used to be really worried the first few times we had tea together.”

That’s right, you gulp. The endless hours you’d spent together in the Orchestra Club room... he really did learn a lot of things about you that time, didn’t he? Although you had merely been friends, Lev had grown on you, as if he’d always been there from the start. And you wonder: what else does he remember about you?

“Ah, by the way,” Lev starts. “Are you still thinking about setting up that music store you wanted?”

“Of course,” you mumble. It was only a naïve dream was what you meant to say, but in the presence of such a captivating man, all the gears in your head seemed to... dislocate.

Lev smiles a simple smile. Boyish at best, but still enough to enrapture you into his lingering gaze.

“I’m glad.... I’m glad you haven’t given up. You know, the old L/N-senpai would’ve called it quits because you thought you weren’t good enough. But look at you now! Soon enough, you’ll be off to teach music to the world.”

Your heart is already doubling in size at his words. Any more and you’d probably explode... You’d lost it. You’ve lost all the capability to keep your heart in control, and now you are smiling like a maniac in front of the last person you wanted to see in this state.

But he only laughs. Youthful and full of color. Unchanging from all those years ago.

“Wahahaha! You finally smiled! We should celebrate, you know. Just a small holiday from all that hard work. Say... are you still going to be in Vienna in the weekend?”

“I’m free on those days. But what’s all this about?”

Hiding his bashful smirk behind his cup of coffee, Lev murmurs. “We have some catching up to do, don’t we—Uwaah! Hot!”

Unchanging indeed, you shake your head, calling over the waiter for an extra set of napkins.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. February 2013.

There is a tea party set stashed between the two cardboard boxes filled with sheet music and spare melodicas. They’ve been left behind by your graduated seniors, who insisted that tea, “as the prime component to a good host”, was to be kept in the club room at all times, case there were any visiting guests.

...Of course, such things never happened. And you always ended up drinking the tea by yourselves. But even with the departure of your beloved seniors, you can never shake off the habit of drinking and restocking the supplies whenever required.

So you wonder if you should really be thanking your tea-loving upperclassmen for the free beverages.

“That’s a lot of sugar!” Lev gasps in awe, the emeralds in his eyes twisting and shining with the cascade of crystals falling into your cup of tea. “I bet you have a lot of cavities in your mouth, Senpai.”

“I brush my teeth very well so I don’t think anything like that’s every happened to me,” you say, irritably trying to ignore the tactless comment from your starry-eyed underclassman. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in my club room, hasn’t it? I’m glad you didn’t get lost trying to get here.”

He grumbles, crossing his arms in faux-anger. “Geez! I won’t get lost like that so easily! Besides...”

Lev takes a moment to drink in the warmth of the club room’s solace. The grand piano in the corner. The orange light streaming through the open curtains. Your curious face, like something out of a fairytale book.

“This place is full of good memories, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever forget something like that.”

You chuckle at his monologue. “You sound like my grandfather, Haiba-kun.”

Lev’s face warps into something reminiscent of a prune.

“Senpai, we’re only two years apart!” he fumes. “You didn’t invite me here just to crush my self-esteem, right?! C-Come on, aren’t you going to show me the audition piece you wanted me to hear?”

There is a burning urge inside of you that’s telling you to “pull at his leg just a little more...”, but nevertheless, the artist within you says to keep your audience at bay. And so, the curtains open and your fingers dance on familiar keys.

You’ve played for him before. Songs like ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’ or ‘Ma Mère L’oye’. Songs that you love, much like the one you’re performing for him right now. But you’re shaking in your seat. Wondering, anticipating, fearing.

He’s staring so much, you bite your lip, trying to avert your focus from Lev’s unbreakable gaze.

A single spectator wracks your brain even more than a theatre full of different kinds people—enthusiasts, university scouts, onlookers. But in your dismal, little club room, there is only your underclassman. Someone who knows nothing of music, but lacks so much knowledge that you know any of his critique would come from honesty alone.

...Why do you care so much about one person’s opinion?

You don’t realize how long you’ve been pondering until your train of thought is abruptly thwarted by the end of your song. You finish on a satisfying note and your endearing onlooker suddenly springs on his feet to shower you in applause.

“What the heck—that was so cool! I’ve never seen anyone play like that before!” Lev stumbles, everything and anything he’d planned to say pouring out as a blubbering mess as your face grows hotter from the attention. “Senpai, you’ll definitely pass the audition if you play just like that.”

“Y-You really think so?” he’s probably just being nice, you think. But for a spare moment, could you simply imagine that he means every word?

“I know so!” he smiles, the palpitations in your chest growing intense by the second. “You just have to keep going, won’t you?”

Even if you’re not brave enough to believe it, you want to believe that there’s a single Haiba Lev in this unyielding universe who believes that you, a mere side character who wishes for more, can and will.

You feel invincible.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

Did you know that swans mate for life? As a symbol of love and affection, they’re widely known to curve their necks together in a shape of a heart when courting. A form of elegance at its finest... until they start hissing.

“They’re so big! Senpai, come take a look at the swans!”

Folding the brochure into a tiny square, you return to your companion’s side, peering over the railings of the bridge to catch a glimpse of the thrush of white feathers down below.

You gulp. They are much larger than you expected.

“They’re surprisingly loud, aren’t they?” you mutter, watching a cygnet waddle its way out of the water onto the banks of the canal. You didn’t want to say, but it slightly reminded you of Lev the first time he’d waddled his way into the the Orchestra Club room.

With the constant squawking of the swans, the both of you find yourself in silence. For you, at least, the past two days viewing all sorts of Austrian sights with Lev had been strangely more gratifying than you’d fathomed. Lev, who’d been as excitable as he’d always been, breathes in peace, plumes of white forming from his mouth.

“This weekend’s been nice, hasn’t it?” you break the silence, observing the smooth junctures of his face. Lev turns to you slowly, his voice squeezing out.

“Don’t say that.”

Your blood freezes. “What?”

“Saying things like that...” Lev sighs wilfully and turns back to the view of the canal. He frowns. “I don’t want to think that this weekend is going to be over soon.”

You want to cry out. Me too. Me too, me too, me too. Your entire body is so full of butterflies you want to double over and pass out. But he continues.

“Travelling and talking with you is so fun, I never want it to end... It’s kind of embarrassing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “D-Do you think so too? Am I a selfish person for thinking that?”

You shake your head. “It’s not embarrassing, Haiba-kun. I—”

Are you red? Are you blushing? Your face feels so hot, you can’t even finish your sentence. He’s so close. So close to you. You want to be reliable, you want to reply, but you can’t. Under his bewitching gaze, you’ve fallen so deep.

When Lev opens his mouth again, it’s like everything around you—the bridge, the people, the swans have entirely vanished. “L/N-senpai, c-can I tell you something? Something I wanted to tell you for a long time.”

Eh?

“I’ve always liked you, Senpai. I really, really like you.”

Blank. Your mind goes blank, even when you whisper a small, “Really?”

You’re happy, you’re so happy you want to jump and shout to the world that you love him. Awfully. Dearly. It’s all like a train had crashed into you headfirst, and you can’t settle on a proper response before the floodgates burst open.

“Wh-Whoa! Don’t cry!” he flails his arms in panic as more tears dribble down your cheeks. “Geez, Senpai, at least reply to me first...”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you laugh, wiping your eyes with the edges of your scarf. “I’m just so happy, I didn’t know how to react.”

Lev’s chest inflates for a moment before he lunges forward to encapsulate you in his embrace. Between the persistent layers of clothing, the beating of his heart resonates deeply against your face. It’s quick and lively, warm enough to remind you of the swirled feelings that you harbor for one another.

“Oh, thank god...” Lev grins, burying his face in your shoulder. “You feel the same way...”

Humming calmly into his ear, you revel in the closure. “I really, really like you too, Haiba-kun.”

And none of you lets go—save for when a swan makes its way up to the bridge to peck at Lev’s boots.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. March 2023.

“... Lev, wake up.”

Feeling a slight nudge on his cheek, Lev tethers over opening his eyes to wonder at your beautiful smile or bury his face even deeper into the sheets.

It’s not like he didn’t favor you, but as of now, the comforts of your shared bed was more important. And thus, Haiba Lev, age 26, shrouds himself under the plush duvet and focuses himself on the sweet dream he was having about you.

“Lev, I know you can hear me...” he hears you sigh, long and airy, just enough to lull him back to sleep. “You have a fitting today, don’t you? You’re going to trouble Matsuyo-san and Alisa-nee if you arrive late.”

Isn’t that on Thursday? Actually... what day is it today? He isn’t very good with dates and formalities—that’s why he considers himself lucky to have you! A cute lover to bring him back to land during the day, and to shower with love and to cuddle with during the evening.

Yawning widely, Lev owlishly wrenches his eyes open, the crystalline sunlight from the bedroom window illuminating your face like a halo.... and was that his shirt you were wearing?

Lucky me~ he grins goofily.

Pressing his lips together, Lev pulls you by the wrist and before you can avoid the sudden attack, you’ve collapsed once more into a tangled mess of limbs and crooked sheets, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Let’s just stay in bed today, Y/N-san~” he slurs, nuzzling closer to you. How catlike, you think. “I want to be lovey-dovey and kissy-kissy again...”

He yawns again, a few stray tresses of silver falling over his face. As if he wasn’t as attractive every hour of the day, you really have learned how to take control of your extreme heart palpitations around him.

Your adorable younger boyfriend, ah... he really is your weakness, isn’t he?

“I’m really sorry, but I have to open up the shop soon,” you reluctantly peel yourself away from him, eliciting a small whimper from the Leviathan in your bed. “I’ll make it up to you when I finish teaching my evening lessons and when you come home, okay?”

Stubborn as a goat, Lev grumbles. “I’ll come back early, you know. Can you not do your evening lessons today?”

“Hm? Why not?” your raised eyebrow is cynical, but is juxtaposed by the gentle strokes of your palm on the crown of his head.

As much as Lev loves you (he does, he really does!), it’s rather annoying when he can’t tell if you’re seriously being oblivious or simply teasing him. He hopes for neither, but in his case, you’re an addict to his gags and without a doubt, you’re definitely messing with him right now.

“Those damn brats... I don’t like the way they stare you up during your classes.”

You laugh, raucously. And Lev considers leaving you to catch a break from the constant jeering. When you finally pipe down, you shift closer to him and press your head onto his bare chest.

“Lev, they’re nine. How else are they going to learn to play if they don’t watch me do it first?” you chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me. You should be worrying about that fitting you have in a few hours.”

“Geez, fine,” he groans. “A kiss before I shower?”

You know exactly where this is going. “Just one.”

Lighting up like a Christmas tree, Lev makes quick work of his hands and tenderly cup your cheek before placing a timid kiss on your lips.

No morning breath, you notice. As expected of a professional model.

“One more...” he whispers, swooping down on your lips once again.

Two, three and maybe seven kisses later, Lev has you caged between his arms, his looming figure propped proudly over you as he continues to pepper you with affection. The moment he starts to lap up your bottom lip, you know you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“It’s so early, Y/N-san,” he mumbles, pleading eyes making your heart turn to jelly. “We have a few more hours before we really have to go, don’t we? So... in the meantime...?”

Sighing, you can only turn a deep red—he really has you around his finger, doesn’t he? Oh well. You suppose it won’t hurt to push back your morning lessons for a few minutes, right?

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all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 4 years

Text

Touchy ~ Embry Call

A/n: MY BABYYYYYYYYYYY!

Request: "Okay here we go! Can I please get a Embry x imprint reader where she’s super affectionate and is always holding a part of Embry or sitting on him. The pack teases her a lot and she gets kinda self-conscious so she stops hanging on Embry. And he thinks that she’s scared of him but she ends up telling him what’s wrong. And the end is supper fluffy and Embry kicks their asses ! Lmao sorry if this is too much! ❤️❤️" by @sweetkiitty

A/n: I'm so sorry this is late. I got... distracted... blame Cameron Monaghan.

MASTERLIST

"Hey guys!" The boys in their usual places around Emily's table all looked up, smiling at the familiar voice.

No smile stretched further than Embry Call's though. He went to move to the girl who'd spoken, but she came in. "Hey babe." She tucked into his side, her arms wrapping around his waste as his arm went over her shoulders.

"Hey." She looked around, greeting each of the other pack members with one nod at a time. When she finished her quick trail, her gaze returned to Embry. "I miss anything?"

"Other than Embry?" Quil jabbed softly. Jared snorted next to him.

Feeling my face growing warm, I rose an eyebrow. What was wrong with missing my boyfriend? He met my gaze evenly so I looked away, feeling suddenly self conscious. "Nothing much," Embry answered, reaching over to shove Quil playfully.

Recently the boys had been making lots of comments like that. Wolf whistling when we got too close or pulled away from the others or headed out for the night. Making kissy noises any time we kissed- even if it was just on the cheek or forehead. They were relentless and never missed a moment, which they never did because Embry often had you on his mind at all times... even when he was a wolf and the others could tune into every brain train he hopped on.

At first it had been fun. I flaunted my ability to kiss Embry, grabbing him and making out with him anytime they began their teasing. They'd get worse for a second and then retreat and it would end there. But then they got braver Quil would squirm between us or Paul would hoot and holler until we stopped, getting louder as time passed. Jared would laugh so hard that he sounded like a hyena and their prodding and poking was starting to get to me.

Were they annoyed with me? Did they want me to be less affectionate? Was I making them uncomfortable? Were they trying to hint that I was doing something wrong, but I wasn't picking up on it? It wouldn't be the first time I'd been oblivious to even the most obvious clues. Just ask Embry what it was like getting me to date him.

Embry didn't seem to mind basking in the attention of the others or flaunting our relationship. He seemed to have no plans on backing off or calming down and often moved to me or pulled me closer if I tried to put some space between us. He was enthusiastic with affection. He could also occasionally read the other boys' minds and he'd back off if it was really bothering them. He wasn't just a good boyfriend- he was a good friend too. Silly and adorable and fun and lighthearted, but respectful. His mom had made sure of it.

So what was up?

"Hey, you okay Sweetheart?" I blinked and refocused on Embry as his question pulled me from my thoughts and back into reality.

Putting on a smile, I looked around to see that the others were distracted, but a few kept stealing looks. Perhaps I'd made an odd face or they'd been trying to talk to me. Oops. Embry's voice was quiet, trying to check on me without drawing too much attention. Even though the others could still hear, I kept my voice quiet as well. "Yeah. Sorry, got some things from school on my mind. Just homework.Upcoming test. The usual." He nodded and relaxed, looking back to his friends.

I reintegrated back into the conversation and soon we were all laughing and having a great time. At one point my fingers found their way into Embry's short hair, switching between fiddling with the strands and lightly running my nails against his scalp. He adored both actions and was slowly relaxing more and more underneath me. I thought it was lowkey, but Paul looked over at us with a huge smirk.

"Careful- get any louder and you'll be moaning." He winked at Embry, who snickered. My hand immediately dropped from his hair. Embry's shoulders sagged in disappointment. Embry wasn't aroused- from my position on his lap I would have felt it. Surely Paul wouldn't have said something if there wasn't something to be said though. I hadn't meant to mess with him in front of his friends. He wouldn't have said anything either, with them so in ear shit. Damnit.

"Do you guys ever part?" Jared teased a little later. We'd moved for Paul who had to go take care of some business and everyone had temporarily parted from their partner at some point to allow him to get through since he was chair locked in the corner, except for me and Embry who'd sort of just pressed closer together to make more room behind us. I hadn't really actively noticed it until Jared said something.

"Nah," Quil drawled, his smirk growing. "If she moves then we'll all see his massive boner."

"Shut up!" Embry laughed,rolling his eyes,

Emily stood, smiling. "Let me through now. It's getting late, I need to get dinner ready."

Seeing my chance, I jumped off of Embry's lap and began to trip over myself to follow her. "Let me help!"

Everyone got an odd look, especially Emily. She was very particular about cooking and we'd all resigned to just letting her do it herself since she usually ended up doing so anyway. "I'm fine," she assured softly.

"I'll do whatever you say, promise." I shot her a desperate look I prayed no one else saw. She didn't know why, but she saw my need immediately and nodded. I followd after her into the kitchen. I felt Embry's eyes on my all the way.

Maybe I was being annoying, in some way or another. I hadn't been in any other relationship. My family was small and it had been a relief when my parents got divorced. I had no idea how people who were happy together acted and it showed far too often. I could give Embry space for a little. Get the guys off his back. Off of mine as well.

Emily asked what was wrong but I brushed it away and she let it drop. For now. This wasn't a big deal. I couldn't overthink it. So I didn't.

I quickly failed and overthought the hell out of it.

What kinds of intimacy should I limit around other people? Were short kisses still okay? Loving staring contests? How much should I pull myself from touching him? Should I hang out with him less? Let him just hang out with other people less? For how long? Should I just take a break, or should I learn how to bother him with my presence less? Perhaps I was too needy and needed to calm down in general.

Why was this so hard?

Short story even shorter, it didn't take Embry a long time to notice my odd activity. After spending every second of every day I was allowed to, attached to him in some way or another, my forced distance and the awkward way I. Was handling him was obvious and painful. After a whole day of me just not touching him because I was hyper overthinking, he finally reached out for me. I tried to find a middle but I was an extreme person. Being allover him was easy. So was not touching him at all. I could set a clear line and rules and not cross them. Where did you step when it was all grey though and you had to make precise movements? Lines that shaped boxes were solid and dark for a reason. It was impossible to navigate without the star difference and clear paths.

Finally, Embry snapped. He found me during lunch one day and pulled me aside, his face clouded with far too many emotions. Fear; guilt; worry; confusion. Maybe more I couldn't quite place. None of them made sense. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better." A white lie. The teasing had died down and I definitely felt better about myself, but I was also massively anxious and craving Embry's touch and it was driving me just a little mad.

He rose an eyebrow. "Are... we okay?" The fear and worry rose a little and suddenly all the buried confusion that left his face rose to my own.

"So far as I know."

He pursed his lips.We seemed to be at an impasse, unsure how to approach a problem neither of us were sure the exact shape of. See? Back at this gray in between kind of there kind of not line again. Things needed to be straight forward! This was ridiculous!

"You've been distant lately," he started slowly, allowing me time to process and jump in whenever.

I shrugged. I felt extremely self conscious. What was I just saying about being straight forward? Geez I was a mess. "Um... I figured maybe you and the guys wanted me to back off a little?"

Embry's face was wiped of all expression, a new one taking place of all of them: surprise. "Why would you ever think that?"

Now I felt silly. "Uh, I don't know." I looked away, shuffling. "The guys' relentless teasing, I guess. They seem to be really annoyed by my neediness and I was thinking maybe they were acting like that because they were uncomfortable. I know I've been stealing you from Quil a lot recently, and distracting you during hang outs. I thought maybe you were secretly feeling smothered and were too nice to say anything." He looked absolutely bewildered and I scrambled to make sense of it. "I just- it seemed that they were hinting at something very strongly, because that's usually the level someone reaches when I'm missing something big. Constantly doing the same thing, repeating certain words or phrases, long eye contact and pointed looks..." My voice faded out.

Embry began grinning brightly, his hands reaching up to cup my face. "You dork. They're all very affectionate, and they can't rough house and play around like they could with me, so they made a different approach. You're kind of like one of the guys- really fun and energetic. Down to go out and do things. They still haver to be super careful though, so that... friendship, I guess, shows up in what they can do: they tease. A lot." He blushed. "They thought it would be fine after you started to retaliate and laugh along with us."

My hands rose to cover my face as realization dawned on me. "I'm such an idiot."

Embry began laughing as he reached up to pull them away. "Don't hide that pretty face from me." He leaned down, pressing a little kiss to the tip of my nose. My anxieties melted away and I couldn't help but done a sweet smile. "At least you're my idiot."

I shoved him and he allowed it to have impact for my benefit. "You jerk!" We both began laughing before moving close again, him pulling me under his arm and into his side.

"You know, you keep being sassy and retaliating with that amazing confidence you have, and I'll beat them up for you, yeah? You can cheer me on."

Little giggles rolled from me. "I'd love that."

Embry kept his promise. The next time we were with the others we unabashedly cuddled and kissed and touched each other being as heavy with PDA as usual. Quil started up first, oohing and aweing. Paul started up with the whistling and even Jake joined in with the kissy noises. Jared ignited that usual laugh, making suggestive gestures in an effort to make me blush or become awkward.

Embry gave a huge sigh and moved to them, leaving me behind in the chair. He played it casual until he got close to Quil, who started it. He then hooked his friend under his arm in a head lock. The boys began rough housing; thankfully, we were already outside so Emily didn't have to worry about it.

People started making bets as the two laughing boys began to get rough. Jared and Paul cheered and Jake came over, throwing an arm around me. "Hey I just wanted to say... sorry." He gave me a small smile. "I know Embry's been worried about you for the last while and since this-" he motioned to Quil and Embry. "-is a thing, I assume it's their fault. They won't apologize, but they really don't mean any harm."

I grinned. "You know, I think I'm catching on. Boys are idiots."

We both laughed before he nodded and admitted, "Yeah. We really are. Especially when it comes to girls we have feelings for, or girls our friends have feelings for."

I grinned so wide it hurt, my face red and radiating heat. It was like having a whole gang worth of brothers. Maybe I'd been embarrassed before, but now I was so glad to have each and every one of them. It wasn't just me- we were all idiots. That's what made us so very, very fun.

What made us family.

"You think Embry or Quil will win?"

Jake shot me a devious grin. "Money's totally on Quil."

I smirked. "You're on." I ran ahead a little so Embry could hear when I screamed, "KICK HIS ASS BABE!"

The boys all erupted into laughter around me.

It was absolutely perfect.

Forever Tag List: @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21 @captainxmikaelson @justanotherdaydreamersoul

#embry call #wolf pack #twilight #new moon #breaking dawn #eclipse #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #embry call imagine #embry call x reader

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sarasapen · 4 years

Text

White Roses and Scarlet Letters

Been awhile since I’ve posted or updated due to exams so I’m reposting the first four chapters because why not!

@jason-todd-squad @lucy-roo @rockyrocket15 @toleble @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @belovedbratwonder @aprilchagoyaaa @vespertxne @thatwaspossesion @attackonnat @roseangel013bf

Red Roses and Scarlet Letters

----- Like most people, your life had a routine. You’d wake up early and go for a jog or do some yoga, depending on the weather. Then you’d spend a half hour on your phone, before you glanced at the clock and scrambled to get ready on time. You normally met Dick for breakfast before making your way to work.

Generally, your nights and weekends were more entertaining. You spent your nights donning a domino mask and Kevlar, punching assholes and stopping crime. Saturdays were sleepover nights with Damian, and Sundays were girls’ days.

So, considering you were standing on a rooftop with dead bodies littered around you when you were supposed to be watching a movie, you were not happy.

“Robin, come to my coordinates.”

“Tt.”

You smile slightly, rolling your eyes before you turned your head, catching sight of a man with a red hood and a symbol on his chest. You eyed the symbol skeptically. “I didn’t know the Bats had a new associate.”

The man remained silent, staring you down. His fingers twitched, and you noticed the gun holsters on his thighs. Two guns. Five dead bodies. He had seven bullets left. Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t have a new associate.

“You gonna threaten me, or shoot me?” You say nonchalantly, gripping your escrima sticks. He moves quickly, and you’re darting to the side before you fully internalise he’s pulling the trigger.

“Alright then,” you huff dryly. “Guess you’re shooting me.” He raises the gun again, and you backflip away from the next bullets, lunging in his direction. Five. Four. Three. The next bullet snags your cape- two- and you swing your leg and attempt to knock him back. He dodges the kick and intercepts your path, moving to flip you. You kick back off the wall, using that as leverage to swing your body around his. You slam your escrima stick into the back of his head the same time his fist comes into contact with your jaw. You slip from his body, and he used the opportunity to kick at your ribs, sending you stumbling. He lunges at you, causing you to slam against the wall. One of his hands is around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and the other is holding his loaded gun, pressed against your temple. You know you can easily break his arm from the position, but for some reason, you can’t seem to move. Even through his voice modulator, the man’s anger is clear when he speaks, the words he growls out making your blood run cold.

“You let Jason Todd die.”

Your eyes widen and you’re going to swing out but instead of shooting you, he drops the gun and slams you back into the wall, your head hitting the wall with a loud CRACK-

-and then all you see is black.

-----

The first thing you register is the pounding in your head.

You groggily try to sit up and wince at the bright lights. A hand on your shoulder pushes you back down- what? No, you need to get up, you need to-

“Lie down.” A voice commands and your body goes limp. The figure looks funny. He looks like a bat. And a man. Hey! Batman!

A whine emerges from your throat as your face scrunches up.

“I don’t wanna,” you protest weakly, trying to get up again. Your voice comes out scratchy, and your throat hurts when you talk. Suddenly there are two hands on both of your shoulders, keeping you on the bed.

“Do you want Alfred to scold?” The voice softens slightly. You shake your head, wincing when it hurts. Fingers dance along your hairline, soothing you.

“Rest. Once you’re better, the family’s going to have a chat.”

“Mkay,” you wrap your fingers around the wrist above your head, and you let sleep overtake you.

-----

When you wake up, you’re alone. Well, for approximately 0.3 seconds before Alfred enters through the door. He’s carrying some meds and soup. He stands over you, making sure you finish every last drop even though your throat hurts like a bitch.

You manage to convince him you’re fine, with Barbara's help, before you spend a good hour or so on trying to conceal the bruises on your neck.

Barbara drives you and the girls to Metropolis to pick up Kara before heading to Central City. Despite all the fun the others seem to be having, you can’t take your mind off the previous night, or off Jason. You had no idea who that man was, or how he knew you were connected to Jason.

The weight of Jason’s death had weighed down on you somewhat heavier than the rest of your family. Bruce became reckless, and almost killed multiple times. Dick went off the grid for 6 whole months, and when he returned, he acted like nothing had happened. No one knows what he did or where he went. Barbara stopped coming to the cave. She still went out on patrol, but didn’t talk to you. Alfred assumed you needed some space, so he gave you that.

As your family pulled away, you started falling into the dark abyss of depression. You resorted to self harm as a way of coping. After Alfred inquiring on your long-sleeves, you moved the cuts to your thighs. You fell so deep into the hole that one day, you grabbed some sleeping pills and swallowed about 20. Alfred noticed the bottle was empty, and he rushed to your bedroom in time.

That was around the time Tim popped up as Robin.

Despite trying to help you, your family never quite understood you. Perhaps Bruce did, better than the two of thought, but Bruce was rarely one to talk about his emotions. When Jason died, you felt like you were to blame. You were quite literally the Batgirl to his Robin. You always patrolled together, always hung around, plotting the next prank to pull on Dick. Considering the two of you were practically inseparable, you felt so damn guilty that Jason went to the warehouse himself. You should’ve gone with him. Maybe if you had gone with him, he would have still been alive.

The guilt had been gnawing at you for five years. There wasn’t a single damn day that you didn’t miss Jason. The day he died, you had furiously scribbled a letter that was about 5 pages long, listing all the reasons you hated him. You were angry, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were angry. The next day, you wrote a tear stained letter saying you loved him, and you were sorry for everything.

You then wrote him letters, one for every day that passed. This time, Day 1564, you reccounted the Red Hood guy occurrence, before telling him about this cute waiter that Dick said had been flirting with you at the cafe. You asked him, rhetorically, if you should go for it. You signed off as usual, saying you loved and missed him.

You slipped the letter into a red envelope, making your way to the garden of Wayne Manor. You couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched, but then you remembered Bruce had tinkered with the security, so that was probably it.

You moved towards the rose bushes, and eased your way into the tiny opening in between the white rose bushes. You grabbed a long wooden box you had been stashing there, slipping the latest letter inside. You shut it, placing it back in the bush, before you straightened.

Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you made your way to the living room, where Bruce was trying to get everyone’s attention.

“I have some information pertaining to the Red Hood. We all need to talk.”

-----

And So the Sky Shall Weep

-----

“We all need to talk.” Bruce moves to the grandfather clock, adjusting the time on it. The door swings open, and he goes in, beckoning for you to follow. Bruce stops in front of the Batcomputer, his face hard.

“You may want to sit down,” Bruce gestures to you, Barbara and Dick. Barbara complies, and Dick leans against the table. You do the same, crossing your arms. What could possibly be so shocking that Bruce wants you to sit down?

Bruce turns on the computer screen, and you hear Dick swear beside you. Barbara buries her head in her hand, letting out a choked ‘Oh my god’. Tim and Damian stop poking each other and pause. You seem to be the only one that’s got their shit together, but by the way Bruce is looking at you, you feel yourself unravelling and quick.

Because on the screen, bold and bright as day, the dna samples of Jason Todd and the Red Hood were a 100% match. That could only mean one thing.

“He’s alive?” Dick croaks, eyes shining with unshed tears. Bruce gave Dick a brisk nod as he placed a hand on Barbara’s shoulder.

“This concerns me how?” Damian drawls, earning a well deserved shove from Tim. Damian of course, retaliates, but Bruce ignores them. His eyes are trained on you, obviously concerned at how you’ve just frozen up.

“He’s dead.” You say, voice too loud and too far away.

“He’s alive-“ Bruce starts gently, but you cut him off.

“No!” You don’t realise you’re shouting until your throat burns painfully. That doesn’t seem to deter you though.“He’s dead! I saw his body! He can’t- he’s dead.”

You don’t want to believe Bruce, don’t want to believe the test. “It’s faulty,” you say.

“I sent it to seven different labs, all of them came back with the same report,” Bruce soothes. You’re trembling, and Bruce reaches out to touch you. You push him away, walking backwards.

“I- I need to think.”

You sprint out of the Batcave, pushing past Alfred and out the door, getting on your bike and driving past the gate faster than you thought was possible. There was a strange sort of numbness that overwhelmed you, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the dam that held your feelings back broke. And you’re pretty sure you didn’t want to be around others when that happened.

You were unlocking the door of your apartment without properly registering it, your body moving on its own to put on your suit and grab your escrima sticks. Next thing you know, you’re on the roof of your building. Your eyes scan the skyline of Gotham, and you inhale deeply, letting the cool night air surround you. In. Out. In. Out. In-The rumble of clouds overhead breaks your focus, and you suddenly find yourself running.

You don’t know what you’re running from - or towards - but you just kept running. You leaped over the gaps in the buildings, hopping over ledges and power lines. Tears begin to blur your vision, but you don’t stop running. You regret that decision as soon as you trip over a plank of wood, flying forward. Luckily, or unluckily, the building had a ledge, which meant that instead of falling down 20 stories, your stomach collided with the ledge.

Hot tears fell from your eyes, and you didn’t bother trying to hold them back. You gripped the edge of the ledge tightly, your chest heaving as you choked on a sob. Lightning cracked nearby, and rain followed a millisecond later.

Five years. Five goddamn years. You mourned him for five years, you felt all that pain, all that guilt, and he was alive? You knew you were screaming when you felt your throat burn.

Screaming didn’t alleviate the weight on your chest, so you lifted your fist and brought it down on the concrete. The pain was shooting up your arm, but that didn’t stop you from hitting the ledge again. You felt like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, frustrated and angry and sad, and having no clue on how to handle the situation. You screamed again, shoving the ledge and hitting it as if it could solve the problem.

Black gloves hands encircled you, gripping your wrists tightly and preventing you from hitting out. You thrashed in the hold, kicking out uselessly.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” Bruce’s voice came through. He hadn’t switched on his voice modulator.

“I don’t care!” You punctuated each word with a shove, but you slumped into his chest, closing your eyes. You’re sobs died down as Bruce held you, and you let the rain lull you to sleep.

-----

Love is Slowly Losing Your Mind

-----

Tick.

You can’t see.

Tock.

You can’t move.

Tick.

You can’t breathe.

Tock.

You hear footsteps.

Tick.

“She’s finally awake!”

Tock

You know that voice.

Tick

“Decided to join the party eh?”

Tock

Its always that voice.

Tick.

A cloth is ripped away from your face.

Tock.

Red lips smile right in front of you.

Tick.

Fuck.

Tock.

“Let’s play.”

Tick.

Your eyes snap open. You can’t breathe, you can’t move.

It was just a dream. You force yourself to close your eyes, focusing on the whirring of the fan above you as you calm your breathing. Just a dream, you tell yourself.

You sit up, pulling your hair into a ponytail and heading over to the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face, and look in the mirror.

He can’t hurt you anymore.

You dress and go to the cafe, arriving half an hour early. A waitress places some coffee in front of you and you thank her with a smile. You don’t drink the coffee though.

The sound of the chair scraping on the floor causes you to look up, and Dick smiles down at you. Except this time, his smile isn’t genuine, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks tired, and worn down, something that shocks you a little. Dick isn’t normally one to be anything less that happy.

He sits across you, swallowing, eyes darting anywhere but your face. When the waitress placed your usuals down, neither of you make a move to eat.

“So,” he starts, voice rough. He clears his throat, sighing heavily and running a hand across his face.

“So,” you agree, picking up your cup and lifting it to your mouth. You wrinkle your nose at the now cold beverage. You make eye contact with Dick and the unspoken question hangs in the air.

Now what?

He’s a mob boss, Dick’s raised eyebrow says.

He’s dangerous, your frown responds.

He almost killed you, Dick slumps further into his seat, eyes never leaving yours.

“He’s family,” you say, voice quiet. Dick closes his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. He is.”

You don’t say much else, and you part to go to your respective jobs. You reach your office, and there are no new cases or any overdue paperwork to deal with, which is a first. Your boss tells you to take the rest of the day off, so you do.

You walk around Gotham for hours, only going back home when the sun begins to set. You contemplate skipping patrol, but you know you need the exercise.

Suddenly you were 10 years old again, clinging onto Dick’s hand before your first patrol.

There’s nothing to be scared about, you rationalise. Absolutely nothing.

You were wrong.

You don’t make it very far, just two blocks away from your apartment, when you see the Red Hood.

-----

When Can I See You Again?

-----

You stumble onto the roof, fisting your cape on your side. He’s leaning against the edge of the building, his arms crossed. He seems to be watching you, or waiting for you, whichever it is, you’re not entirely sure.

He watches you for a moment, and you watch him, a voice in your head telling you that there’s no way in hell that’s Jason Todd.

Red Hood pushed himself off the wall, striding towards you and easily towering over you. Your heart is drumming in your ears, with him being so close to you that you can smell him, and the doubt begins to fade.

The scent is a deep, musky sort of aroma, whiffs of cigarette smoke and alcohol mixing in nicely. It’s strange, reminding you of dark and dingy corners of bars late at night, but at the same time it’s so incredibly him, so incredibly Jason, that you don’t have the heart to deny yourself a little hope anymore.

Especially not with that stupid leather jacket of his, making his arms look so good.

You swallow nervously, tilting your head up to look at him. If either of you move any closer, your chests would be brushing.

And then he moves. He takes a small step closer, one of his hands now on the small of your back and guiding you backwards, into the shadows, until your back touches a wall. You don’t know why your body lets him, why you’re not reacting to him dragging guiding you around.

He’s practically pressed against you, one of his legs between yours, the hand not on your back is resting on the wall on the side of his head. He’s so much taller than you, your head practically looking straight up to look at him.

You hear an intake of breath which could be him about to say something, but then your hands touch his mask gently. He flinches away, body tensing. His hand leaves your back and is suddenly gripping your neck, pressing you against the wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he starts, voice gravelly. You don’t care, or seem to have heard him, really, your hands going straight back to his hood. “Take it off.”

“Given’ me orders, huh? Never would’ve thought you-”

“Take the fucking thing off or get your hands off me!” You retort, tugging at his hand around your neck. Surprisingly, you don’t seem to mind it at all. Hood’s eyes narrow and he pulls back very slightly, his hands leaving you. You’re almost disappointed until he pulls his helmet off, dropping it onto the floor. Not a second passes before he’s closed in on you again, this time applying pressure on your neck.

You’re nearly gasping for air, but you don’t struggle or make any attempts to get out of his grasp. Instead, you look at him, memorising his features. His eyes have hardened, a new steel in them that wasn't there before, but somehow they’ve stayed exactly the same. You see his features soften just a little as you breathe out his name, and you watch as his pupils dilate. Jason - it’s so clearly Jason - smirks, his head dipping down to yours. You can feel his breath on your face, your eyes locked onto his.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your jaw.

“I could destroy you,” he continued, voice soft and eerily soothing. “I could wreck you and ya wouldn’t stand a chance. Could snap this pretty little neck o’ yours.”

A normal person would be trembling, scared shitless in this situation. You… were not normal.

“What’s stopping you then?” You say, voice low and equally calm. You inhaled and god he smelled good.

“Nothin’ if you keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“I’m calling bullshit,” you say, smug under him, despite the fact that he has you pinned and his hand is tight around your throat. He cocks and eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “If you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it that other night.”

“Maybe I’m regretting’ leaving you alive,” he shoots back. You shrug, leaning your head back as if you were extremely comfortable. (Which, for the record, you totally were.) Jason - Red Hood?- lets his forehead rest against your for a moment, your lips almost brushing. You could just… tilt your head up…

With a heavy sigh, he releases you, taking a few steps away from you. He picks up his helmet, back turning towards you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Next time I’m gonna kill you,” he says, voice not in the least bit threatening.

A sudden urge to touch him again courses through you, and you lunge towards him. His reflexes are still sharp, and he spins around, anticipating an attack. Your body slams into his, and he barely shifts. He only seems to stiffen when you wrap your arms around him. You press your cheek to his chest, breath shaky as you listen to his steady heartbeat. You don’t realise you’re crying until his gloved hand strokes your cheek. His other arm wraps around your shoulders awkwardly, unsure of how to react. You sniffle, arms tightening around him. He seems to get the hint and tightens his grip on you, his touch full of warmth and comfort.

You pull away first, and he avoids your gaze.

“You still gonna try to kill me?” You say, trying to lighten the moment. Your voice comes out a lot weaker than you would’ve liked.

Red Hood straightens up to his full height, staring at you head on.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Fight or Flight - Chapter 9: Intel

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4500

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Nearly five days since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Riley glanced around anxiously, taking in the handful of other people in the park. She didn’t like it. She felt so exposed anytime someone even made eye contact with her or glanced at Bridget. It seemed like they could tell she didn’t belong there, that she and Drake and Bridget stuck out like a sore thumb, that the fact that she was a wanted fugitive was obvious. It was hard to relax when every single person in the area was a potential threat, someone who could turn her in and make it all fall apart.

She and Drake had hemmed and hawed about making this trip out. Ever since warrants had been issued for their arrest, the risk of being spotted felt so much more threatening. It had almost felt surreal, sitting on the bed with Drake on Sunday evening, sharing a pair of headphones and staring at his phone while Bridget slept, curled up against her side, watching as Ana de Luca covered Rashad’s brief statement, discussing their family’s disappearance and the lack of evidence of foul play. It had been his first public appearance as king-regent.

Monday night had been the same, this time with an announcement of formal charges of kidnapping of the monarch and treason, resulting in the loss of their titles and lands. The social season was delayed with everything unfolding, but that barely seemed to warrant a mention by any of the reporters or pundits. Olivia was sending them links to several news stories every day - footage of their estate with intelligence agents filing out with box after box, all to be poured over for evidence of any further crimes. Rashad visibly uncomfortable in front of the palace as he requested anyone who knew their whereabouts to step forward. A “tell-all” interview with Barthelemy that was an infuriating clip they only made it part of the way through.

There were clips about Liam and the results of the no-confidence vote as well, even though Liam’s last public sighting had been his arrival at Olivia’s keep on Sunday after the last court hearing. Other than his speech the night before Rashad was sworn in, Liam had not made any statements related to his title or their disappearance. Riley knew Drake was unsettled by that fact. Liam had always known his calm and gentle, yet confident demeanor was an asset and had never shied away from using public statements to sway hearts and minds in the past. Now, when he needed to rally support as he campaigned to regain the throne, he was silent.

Drake had spent all of his time scraping up every news segment, article, op ed, or social media post he could find related to their family, Liam, or Barthelemy. It concerned Riley that he was so hyper-focused, but with everything so fresh and constantly changing, it was hard to blame him for it. Bridget grabbing him or calling for him was about the only thing that could distract him. Riley honestly wasn’t sure if he was sleeping at all.

They hadn’t left their rented room since their arrival on Sunday morning, at least until this morning. Yesterday had been rough, with Bridget throwing fit after fit. She was bored, that much was clear. They had very few toys for her, and their bare bones hotel room was not exactly a stimulating environment. At Valtoria, she spent time exploring different rooms or parts of the grounds with them everyday. She didn’t like the change in the routine, to say the least.

When they finally were able to get Bridget asleep last night, hours after her usual bedtime as she wailed and cried, overtired and cranky beyond belief, they had decided that they needed to chance a trip outside with her. Sure, it was a risk, but so was keeping a screaming 10 month old in a hotel with thin walls. The last thing they needed was the police called for a noise complaint. They decided first thing in the morning would probably be their best option, with hopefully fewer people around. Anything to reduce the chance of getting recognized.

So, they had brought Bridget to a little park, hoping that a change of scenery might help her mood. So far, she was content, sitting happily near them, running her hands over the grass and pulling some up by the blades intermittently. The same couldn’t be said for her and Drake. He looked as wound up as she felt. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his eyes kept darting between Bridget and random people around them. A young mother or nanny ran past them earlier, chasing a school-aged boy down, and Riley thought Drake was going to knock her to the ground. To say they were both on edge was the definition of an understatement.

The tension radiating off them was probably why Bridget was so content to just sit near them. Normally, she would be crawling everywhere, checking out every leaf, flower, and bug in her path. But she kept looking at Riley and Drake, a frown on her little face when they weren’t encouraging her to move and explore. At this rate, Riley wasn’t sure this stressful little trip was going to do her any good.

At the moment, she had found a little flowering tree that was dropping all it’s blossoms, and she was entertaining herself by picking up the pink petals on the ground. Riley was about to ask Drake how long he wanted to stay when she saw Bridget move to put a tiny fistful of the flowers in her mouth.

“Drake, can you stop her from eat-” she started, since Drake was sitting closer to Bridget, but before she could even finish her sentence, she saw Drake’s eyes widen as all the color drained from his face in a second. She turned her head in the direction he was looking and saw a woman who was maybe 50 years old running towards them, pointing at Bridget, calling something out in Greek. Her throat felt tight and her heart started racing as she twisted back towards Drake, but was startled to find him already standing over her, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet with one hand, Bridget already scooped up in his other arm.

“Get to the car,” he rattled off, shoving Bridget into her arms before he started fumbling through his pockets, slipping the keys into her shaking hands.

Riley clutched Bridget close to her chest, turned around, and started running as fast as she could. Feet pounding over the grass, Bridget bouncing in her arms. Sound was distorted in her ears, hollow and thin. She ran, past a jogger, past a couple holding hands. All towards the edge of the park. Towards their car parked just around the corner.

At some point, Bridget started crying, twisting, trying to escape from her arms. Riley tried to keep a tight hold on her, but it was hard. She was slipping. She stopped, trying to readjust. She spun, looking for Drake, but he wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he right behind her?

“Drake?” she cried out as she spun around, frantically searching for him. Her voice was shaky, weak. “Drake?” He wasn’t anywhere. She couldn’t think. Where could he be? He could outrun a middle-aged woman. So why wasn’t he there?

“He’s trying to give you time to get away.” The thought shot through her, and she knew it was the truth in an instant. Stupid, self-sacrificing, noble man. On instinct, she started sprinting back into the park. She wasn’t leaving him behind. Not when they could get out of this together. It was one woman. They could outrun one woman.

She was so hellbent on getting back to drag Drake out of there, she almost didn’t see him, briskly walking toward her. He did a double take when he noticed her, but then held up his hands in front of his chest and shook his head.

“We’re fine!” he called out. “It’s all fine.”

It took her half a second to process his words, but when she did, she slowed her pace, jogging the last few steps to him and tugging one arm free from Bridget to wrap tightly around his neck.

His arms slipped around her waist, holding her close. “We’re fine,” he murmured into her hair, “She didn’t recognize us.”

“Then why was she running at-”

“The flowers. Those were oleander petals. She was worried Bridget was going to poison herself.”

Riley let out a shaky breath as she leaned back slightly, looking Drake dead in the eye. “I thought-”

“I know; me too.” And with that he pulled her and Bridget tight against him again. She tried to calm herself, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, but her heart was still racing. It had all felt too close, too real.

Bridget was still crying, so after a moment, Drake dropped his arms from Riley’s waist and moved to take Bridget, bouncing her on his hip, clearly trying to calm her down. Between her continued tears and screams and the mad dash Riley had just made through the park, they weren’t exactly keeping a low profile.

“We should probably not hang around here after the scene we just caused,” she murmured. Drake nodded briskly, tucking Bridget fully against his side and grabbing Riley’s hand with his free arm. He set a rapid pace as they walked out of the park, not saying anything more until they were all secure in the privacy of their car.

“Drake, what are we doing?” she asked, watching Drake’s shoulder’s sag as he finally seemed to catch his breath. His knuckles were tense as he clutched the steering wheel.

“The best we can, Riley.”

“We couldn’t even spend an hour in a park without making a mess. How are we going to get by?”

He shook his head and let out a sigh. “Well, we’re just going to have to figure it out, aren’t we?”

A wave of guilt washed over her. All of this was her fault. She had no right to express doubt about it now, not after her decision got Drake named a traitor to the Crown. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, running her hand over her face.

“For what?”

“This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“Riley,” his voice was quiet and his hand slid over onto her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Riley, look at me.”

She twisted in the passenger seat to face him the best she could. She could hear Bridget kicking against the car seat and starting to fuss, clearly expecting the car to be moving at this point, but Drake made no move to start the car.

“This is fucking Barthelemy’s fault.” He stared straight into her eyes as he said it. He looked so earnest that Riley almost believed him. But deep down, she knew that was a mad over simplification of the issue. Maybe he brought it all to a head, but she and Drake had put themselves into a position to have their parenting called into question by assholes like him in the first place.

Still, she knew what Drake was trying to do. He was trying to make her feel better about the whole mess. How he was able to worry about her when he was obviously frazzled and sleep-deprived himself was nothing short of a miracle.

When all she was able to muster was a weak little smile, Drake kept going. “Remember how shitty we both felt those first few weeks home with her?”

Shitty was an understatement. Bridget had been horribly cranky as soon as she wasn’t right in that newborn period. Colicky and loud, she’d cried constantly, often for no apparent reason. She’d fed poorly, slept in tiny little bursts, and didn’t seem to soothe unless she was held, walked around, and all the stars and planets were aligned. Riley had felt like a failure as a mother time and time again. “Yeah, that sucked ass.”

“Right. Both of us had no idea what the hell we were doing, and we were so scared we were gonna be complete garbage at it. But we figured it out, right? There was just a learning curve. This is gonna be the same way.”

“Drake Walker, are you giving me a ‘practice makes perfect’ pep talk about being a fugitive?”

He blushed, just slightly, and gave her a little shrug. “I didn’t mean it to sound so cheesy.”

“No, I think it’s sweet,” she said, grabbing his hand on her knee and threading their fingers together. “But I think we need to start thinking for the long term here. Spending days locked in hotel rooms and then freaking out when we step out in public is not going to work forever.”

He nodded at her. “I’ve been thinking about this, and I think we need some aliases and forged documents. We have no way to earn any money at this point, and if we get asked for our papers, we’re done for right now.”

Riley bit her lip. She knew he was right, and she had an idea of how to go about it. She just wasn’t sure if it was a smart move.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, watching her face carefully.

“I think we’re going to have to find a way to get in touch with Amalas.”

Drake let out a huge sigh at that, so Riley kept going. “I don’t like it either, but if someone we know is equipped to make believable forgeries, it’s her.”

“What is she going to want in exchange, though? She’s an opportunist, and right now we have nothing to offer her.”

Riley shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Drake opened his mouth to say more, but Bridget’s patience ran out at that point, a massive wail echoing through the car.

“To be continued? When she’s not trying to burst our eardrums?” Drake asked, sliding the key into the ignition and starting the car. Riley just nodded. They didn’t have to decide their next steps this moment, but soon, they were going to have to, and Riley had a feeling that no matter what they chose, it was going to feel like the wrong call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Olivia scowled a little as she dug through her desk drawer. Her emergency ibuprofen was supposed to be in this drawer, and her head was killing her. She really should start taking meds before her meetings with Maxwell. He had left her office maybe twenty minutes ago, and just like every meeting she’d had with him since this whole mess began, she was now dealing with a migraine.

To be honest, having to listen to Maxwell’s rambling, inefficient accounts of what was going on at Ramsford was just the last irritation that put her over the edge. Having Maxwell, Liam, and now Leo living at the keep, as well as Bertrand and Hana making frequent appearances was just a lot. She was used to her privacy, and the constant activity and bustle in her home was all a bit much to handle.

Leo had arrived Monday, and she’d tasked him with providing Liam emotional support. It was the only thing she trusted him to do, really, and even that was pushing it. But she was busy, managing the press, trying to buy off employees in Portavira to get some dirt on Landon and Emmeline, and providing statements to Bastien regarding her conduct in the days between the initial vote and her reporting Drake and Riley’s disappearance.

Hana was the only one she felt like she didn’t need to keep on a short leash at this point. She was staying at Valtoria to make sure Barthelemy’s people couldn’t gain unauthorized access, and she seemed prepared for her meeting with Rashad tomorrow. Olivia and Hana weren’t exactly sure what Rashad wanted to discuss with her, but they’d reviewed their stories prior to having their official interviews with law enforcement earlier this week, so whatever questions he had, Olivia was confident Hana would have acceptable answers.

But Bertrand was in a tizzy, staying at Ramsford in an effort to prevent his father from forcing him out as head of house, Maxwell was a scatterbrained go between who alternated between forgetting key pieces of info to share and recounting conversations down to the last detail, and Liam seemed to be sinking into a deeper pit of depression every day, leaving her to believe Leo’s efforts were lackluster. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could let these men flounder along before she stepped in and took control.

On top of everything, she still had her typical duties as the Duchess of Lythikos, and reviewing some tax records was her planned task for today. She couldn’t really neglect it any longer, but her migraine was making it difficult to focus on the spreadsheets in front of her.

She finally found her pill bottle and popped three tablets, massaging her temples and hoping the relief would come soon. But before she could return to the task at hand, a knock on her office door interrupted her. She let out a massive sigh and rolled her shoulders back before calling out, “Come in.”

Leo poked his head around the door and grinned at her, striding into her office and sitting down across the desk from her. “How are you today, Liv?”

“Annoyed. What do you want?”

“What, can’t I just come in to chat with my favorite duchess in Cordonia?”

“Not when I am busy putting out seventeen different fires. What. Do. You. Want?”

“I was hoping to talk to Lady Hana.”

Olivia squinted at Leo. He was so predictable. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” His eyebrows flew up almost comically at her response. “Why not?”

“She’s far too nice for the likes of you.”

That little smirk, the one he used to get away with everything, started forming. “Hey, I like nice.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Are you saying you aren’t nice, Liv? I remember you being plenty ‘nice’ to me in the past.”

She shook her head at him. He was far too charming for his own good. “No one in their right mind would call me nice. Besides, this isn’t about a mistake from nearly a decade ago.”

He clutched his hands over his heart, like her words wounded him, but he was openly chuckling. “A mistake? You are indeed a cruel woman, Olivia Nevakris.”

“I’m actually being very kind to you here, protecting your ego from taking a beating when she inevitably rejected any… advances from you.”

“What makes you so sure I am going to seduce her if I speak to her?”

“Well, you wouldn’t be successful, but when was the last time you didn’t try to get into the pants of a pretty woman?”

“Do our conversations not count?”

“I’m not young enough to find that line anything but cheesy.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying. No, but I really was hoping to talk to Lady Hana. Where are her quarters?”

Olivia cocked her head and frowned. She didn’t know how often Hana and Leo had interacted, but it clearly wasn’t all that often if he kept using her title. What he could possibly want from her was a total mystery.

“What do you want to talk to her about?” she asked.

Leo gave a little shrug, “She lived with Drake and Riley, right? Well, I figure she might have a way of getting in touch with them.”

Olivia was careful to keep her face still. She didn’t think Leo was likely to be working for Barthelemy. It wouldn’t make any sense, and his disdain for the way Constantine had ruled had never seemed to apply to his brother. Besides, he’d thrown away his chance at being king, so it’s not like power or glory in a coup would be very tempting to him. But she couldn’t think of a reason why Leo was looking to talk to the Walkers, and after the past few days, she wasn’t taking any chances.

“Why would you think she would be able to get in touch with them?” There, a good opening question that would hopefully get him talking.

“It would make sense that the person they live with is someone they trust the most, right? And her family isn’t caught up in all of this political shit, so she seems like a safe option in that regard, too.”

“Why are you looking to talk to them?”

“Liam seems pretty torn up without Drake here. I thought maybe if I-”

Olivia couldn’t help it, a chuckle of shock and disbelief shot out of her, interrupting Leo.

“What?”

“You had one job - cheer Liam up, and your method of doing so was to attempt to convince Drake and Riley to come back? Gee, why didn’t I think to try that?” she replied, rolling her eyes at the end.

“Ah ha, so you are in touch with them!” he cried out, leaning back in his chair, a smug, shit-eating grin etched across his face.

“Bastard,” Olivia grumbled, shaking her head.

He just grinned wider at that. “It’s alright little Livvy; your secret’s safe with me.”

“Don’t call me ‘little Livvy’ ever again,” she said, leaning across her desk and staring him down, “But even if… theoretically there was a way to talk to Drake and Riley, you won’t be able to convince them to come back. You wouldn’t have been able to a couple of days ago, and you certainly won’t now that warrants have been issued.”

“I’m quite persuasive, you know.”

“You can keep telling yourself that, but I think Drake Walker might be immune to your… charms, particularly when he and his wife are going to lose custody of their kid if he gives in.”

“Fair enough. Not even worth a shot, then?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, them returning at this point will just be another fire I have to try and put out. Them on the run is easier to deal with than them in prison.”

Liam nodded, swiping his thumb along his jawline. “Alright then. Say there was a theoretical way to get in touch with them. Would someone be able to get them some money?”

Olivia blinked several times as her brain tried to follow this unexpected shift. “I’m sorry, I think I must have just had a stroke. I thought I heard you ask about getting money to them.”

“I’m serious. They can’t use their credit cards, right? All of their funds are frozen, I would assume.”

“Since when are you mister charitable?”

Leo bit his lip, not willing to answer right away apparently. “This stays between us, alright?” he eventually said, his blue eyes wide and earnest. All Olivia could do was nod.

“I know Liam is not exactly thrilled with them. And I get why, and obviously my first choice would be for them to be here.”

“Noted,” Olivia said dryly. She had no idea where this was going, but for this amount of build up, it had better be fucking fascinating.

“I like that they just kind of said… ‘fuck it,’ and left. It’s sort of admirable, isn’t it? That sort of courage and disregard for all rules of courtly conduct?”

Olivia rolled her eyes again. “You just are happy you aren’t the biggest scandal this century in Cordonia anymore.”

“Nah, I’m just thrilled that Drake Walker is suddenly a whole lot more interesting. And what can I say? I always like to take a risky gamble.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Unless you can give me a real reason you want to help them, I am not adding another person to this mess. Particularly one who likes to run his mouth after a few drinks at the craps table.”

Leo frowned at that. “I’m not as heartless as you make me out to be, you know. I’ve known Drake basically his entire life, and I don’t want to see him suffering, particularly since I understand the type of pressures placed on his kid. And… when my mother left my dad, she couldn’t take me. I had to stay in the palace, and you know how that turned out. But if those two found a different way to do things… good for them, I say.”

Olivia stared at Leo, trying to assess his sincerity. He seemed to mean his words, but she wasn’t ready to hand him a bunch of confidential info, not just yet. She would need to talk to Hana first, but Leo might be a nice resource. He traveled all over constantly, so it wouldn’t really seem suspicious for him to head to another country. He might be their best chance to get Riley and Drake their most essential belongings.

“Hana’s gone back to Valtoria, but we can’t have you seen there. She’ll be back Friday.”

“So, I have your permission to talk to her then. My, I am honored.”

“You can talk to her if you actually get Liam to stop wallowing in his quarters, just reviewing ancient law books.”

“Like I said, if you just let me take him to the casinos-”

“For the fifth time, Leo, he cannot be seen gambling after losing his title! Are you fucking stupid?”

Leo grinned widely. “No, but watching your face turn as red as your hair never gets old. He’ll be fine, Liv. He’s just a little weirded out by actually having some time off for the first time in years. Don’t worry, I’ll have him relaxing like me soon enough.”

“Leo!”

“Like I said, it never gets old,” he said, pointing to her face and winking at her. Before she could get a serious answer out of him, her office phone started ringing.

“Oooh, saved by the bell,” he said, popping out of his chair. “I’m getting Liam drunk, so swing by later if you get a chance.”

“Are you fucking serious, Leo?”

“You’ll have to find out later. Better answer that.” He pointed to the phone before ducking out the door with a cheeky little wave.

Taking a calming breath, Olivia picked up the phone. Only official governmental business came through on this landline.

“This is Olivia Nevrakis.”

“Duchess Olivia, it’s Queen Amalas.”

Olivia’s mind raced, trying to determine why she was calling her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have some information for you, and I was wondering how valuable it is or isn’t to you at this point.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know the location of the former Duchess and Duke of Valtoria and the Queen-Regent of Cordonia.”

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr au #trh au #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #trr au fanfic #trh au fanfic #olivia nevrakis #roe leo

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nightfallrevel · 4 years

Text

White Day - Bakugo

A/N: Here it is! The first White Day post, sequel to the Valentine post.

Check out my bio for the master list!

Also, I apparently like portraying the more sensitive side of Bakugo. Oop-

Warnings: swearing, none

Bakugo x reader

Word Count: 2,857

You were completely mortified by the way that you had given Bakugo your Valentine’s Day chocolates. You swore that Kaminari was laughing at you every time he saw you. You had no idea how Bakugo had felt about receiving the chocolates, though you figured he probably thought you were an idiot. Whatever the case, you avoided him like the plague, too embarrassed by your actions to face him properly.

This, of course, only pissed Bakugo off. He couldn’t figure out why you would go through the trouble of practically confessing to him only to completely avoid him afterwards. It was frustrating as hell.

He’d put on an air in front of his friends, but he was actually secretly pleased that you’d given him chocolates. You had caught his eye from the day you transferred into their class. Your quirk was incredible, but, even without it, you were even more so. You were gorgeous in his eyes and he found himself interested in getting to know you. Not that he’d ever let on to the fact.

However, he was given an opportunity when you approached him on Valentine’s Day. He hated sweets and was fully prepared to let his friends eat them, but you’d made him special chocolates. How could he not at least try them? They’d been delicious. Spicy with only the slightest hint of sweet. Very spicy. It was obvious that you had been paying attention to him.

Day after day, however, no matter when he tried to approach you, you would flee. He knew you were fleeing, too, because he could see your panic. You had been mid-sentence while talking to Uraraka when you saw him walking up to you and you bolted. The fact that you were so obviously avoiding him only served to anger him further. He wasn’t the type of guy who gave up so easily, though.

Others may have viewed pursuing you as a waste of time, but he wanted you. When Bakugo wanted something, he was in the mindset of not stopping until he got it. However, he wasn’t stupid enough to realize that he wasn’t getting anywhere by merely trying to approach you. He needed a different tactic.

After two weeks of giving you panic attacks, Bakugo backed off. He stopped trying to approach you, giving himself time to find another method. After confirming with Kirishima that White Day was a thing, he started to come up with a plan. He would just have to give you chocolates, too.

He had no idea what your preferences were, but he had watched you enough to know that you at least loved sweets. You also loved caramel, he’d noticed. There was no way he could let you show him up with homemade chocolates, so he got to work on making caramel-filled chocolates for you. He already knew how to cook, so how hard could it be to make some stupid candies?

It was hard. Two days of attempting to make the chocolates and Bakugo was reaching a level of impatience of volcanic proportions. His frustration bled into his studies, his temper much shorter than usual. Occasionally, he would see you watching him as he lost his cool and it somehow evened his temper.

Your eyes reflected guilt as though you might be the cause and he couldn’t handle that. He didn’t want you to think that you were the reason that his fuse was so much shorter, even if you were indirectly the cause. He couldn’t help feeling that you were worth it, though.

Which was stupid of him. He knew that he had no business getting distracted by a girl, not when he had been solely focused on being the number one hero. It was still his focus, but part of that focus had been redirected to you and he had hated it for a long time.

Now, however, he had accepted it. He couldn’t help wanting you and, in this instance, he had found that it was better to embrace it rather than fight it. You had made your feelings known to him and he intended to hold you accountable for it, for making him want you that much more.

White Day finally arrived and he had managed to make the chocolates correctly just in time without burning them. Not one to skip out on small details, Bakugo wrapped up the chocolates in a small, flat box and tied bright orange ribbon around it to keep it closed. He’d never felt more ridiculous holding the small parcel as he stood in the dorm foyer.

His heart suddenly picked up in speed the moment he saw you. Thinking how stupid he really was for getting so worked up over giving you some stupid chocolates, his gaze turned to a glare just as you looked at him. Your face paled and you immediately hurried past him as you gave him a wide berth. Before Bakugo could call out to you, Kaminari and Kirishima caught him.

“Hey, man, what have you got there? A gift?” Kirishima gave his best friend an innocent and unassuming grin as Bakugo grit his teeth.

“Oh, maybe you were gonna confess to a girl? It is White Day, after all.” Kaminari added thoughtfully, his eyes growing wide. “Were you maybe going to give Y/L/N a return gift?” The blonde’s elbow connected with a seething Bakugo’s ribs.

The explosive boy was at his limit. “It’s none of your damn business!” He yelled, wrenching himself away from his friends and stomping from the dorms. Kaminari and Kirishima followed him with barely suppressed snickers of laughter.

Between ignoring his friends’ teasing jabs and being continuously dodged and avoided by you, Bakugo’s patience had worn out. The tension in him finally snapped during one of their breaks and the last thing he remembered was raising the box of chocolates and aiming it in your direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You felt pathetic. An entire month had gone by and you still couldn’t face Bakugo. The glare he had given you that morning hadn’t exactly instilled much confidence in you, either. He was apparently still mad at you. Of course, you didn’t exactly blame him. You’d shoved chocolates at him and then blatantly avoided him.

You knew you hadn’t been subtle about it, either. After a couple of weeks, Bakugo had seemed to give up on approaching you, and you had a brief moment that you felt like you could breathe, again. However, he’d been back to his old tricks today and you were left in a near constant panic. Why did you keep running away, anyway?

You were a coward when it came to matters of the heart.

Plain and simple. That’s all it could be. You were terrified of what he was going to say to you. He was going to turn you down. Bakugo had no interest in anything except for becoming the number one hero. He didn’t have the time to pursue romance or invest in anything beyond accomplishing his goals. You knew that, but you still didn’t want to hear him say it.

Heaving a sigh, you decided that you would have to stop avoiding him eventually. You were in the same class and would at some point be teamed up together for training exercises. It was better to rip off the bandaid now, than to torture yourself over it.

Just as your class had been given a break, your mind made up, you started to get up to go talk to him only for something to smack you square in the face. You froze, half standing, as you blinked in stunned silence. It only took a second for you to recover, anger flooding you. “What the hell! Somebody seriously just threw something in my face?” You scanned your fellow students in front of you, searching for the guilty party.

“YEAH, I DID IT BECAUSE YOU KEEP AVOIDING ME, DUMB ASS! WHAT OTHER OPTIONS ARE YOU GIVING ME!” The sound of Bakugo’s voice had your head snapping in his direction. Even though his point was completely valid and he wasn’t exactly wrong, you were still angry.

“And you couldn’t think of a different method of getting my attention!” You yelled back at him. “I was just about to come talk to you, just so you know!” The tension in the air was palpable and the other students were slowly edging away to avoid being in the crossfire.

“WHAT ELSE SHOULD I HAVE DONE, THEN? HAH? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU GAVE ME MUCH OF A CHOICE WHEN I CAN’T EVEN APPROACH YOU!” Bakugo was only getting louder, no longer in his seat as he stepped towards you.

You brought yourself to your full height, though he still towered over you. “And who would want to let you approach them when you’re always looking so intimidating, huh? I was scared!” Your eyes narrowed on him, but all fight had seemed to leave him. You blinked as he seemed to completely deflate, though his glare didn’t lose an ounce of intensity.

“Whatever.” Turning from you, he left the classroom as the rest of the class stared after him in shocked silence. Your brows knit in confusion. It wasn’t like him to give up in a fight like that. What had silenced him? Looking down on your desk, you saw what he’d thrown at you.

You picked up the small box and untied the ribbon, your eyes widening as you saw the homemade chocolates inside. Had he… been trying to tell you that he liked you, too? You picked up one of the small chocolates and ate one, your eyes widening in surprise to find they were filled with caramel. How had he known you loved caramel…? You slowly sank back down in your seat as you thought about the way Bakugo had left.

Something had upset him. It was obvious that something you’d said had affected him somehow. You spent the rest of the break nibbling on the chocolates. They were so good and he’d clearly made them himself. The fact that he’d even taken the time to make you chocolates was enough to tell you just what he thought of you.

Bakugo returned from break just before class started back up, not giving you another chance to speak with him. You couldn’t concentrate on the lesson, Present Mic’s voice going in one ear and out the other. Your eyes were glued to the back of Bakugo’s head, replaying your fight with him over and over in your mind.

It wasn’t until the bell rang that you realized what you’d said that had made him upset. Before you could gather your things and go up to him, however, Bakugo was already gone. Ignoring Uraraka’s request to walk back together, you grabbed your things and what was left of the chocolates and bolted from the classroom.

You ran all the way back to the dorms, your feet carrying you with near blinding speed. As you ran, you kept an eye out for Bakugo, but you didn’t see him. You couldn’t remember a time you had ever run so fast, barely slowing as you barreled through the front door. The commons was empty and you raced up to your room to deposit your things and change your clothes.

Still carrying the box of chocolates, you headed back to the commons and hoped to intercept Bakugo as he returned to the dorms. The only ones you saw, however, were Kirishima and Kaminari along with a few of your other classmates. Kirishima spotted you and grinned almost apologetically. “Bakugo headed up to his room right away.” You smiled back at him and gave him a nod of appreciation.

Turning on your heel, you dashed up the stairs to Bakugo’s room. Once you stood in front of his door, you took a moment to catch your breath as you panted heavily. Even though you were still breathing rather heavily, you knocked insistently on his door. A voice yelled from inside to piss off, but you only pounded harder against the wood.

The door was suddenly yanked open and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Bakugo standing shirtless before you. You blinked rapidly, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought as Bakugo narrowed his eyes on you. An annoyed ‘tch’ left him when you didn’t say anything and he started to close the door in your face.

In a panic, you forced your foot through the door to keep it from closing. “No, wait! Please.” You winced as your foot was squished, yelping slightly. Bakugo immediately opened the door again, giving you a bewildered expression.

His bewilderment immediately gave way to more annoyance. “Are you a fucking idiot? What the hell are you trying to do?” His ruby eyes bore into you, making you feel a lot smaller as you withdrew your foot from the door jamb. You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you held up the box of chocolates he’d given you.

Bakugo raised a single brow at you expectantly when you didn’t speak right away. A sigh passed his lips and you almost flinched, which he didn’t miss. His expression contorted into a scowl. “Let me guess. You’re scared, right? Well, you at least had the courage to knock on my door.”

He reached out to take the chocolates from you, but you hurriedly clutched them to your chest and shook your head vehemently. “I’m not!” You pressed your lips together, meeting his stare with determination as you finally found your voice. Your gaze wavered slightly as heat rose to your face. “Well, I am, but… it’s not at all what you think.” Your determination returned as you inhaled deeply. “I am scared, but I’m not scared of you. I’m… really just… nervous.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened at you as you spoke, his mouth opening to speak. You interrupted him as you kept going, spilling everything you had been feeling. “I was afraid of what you were going to say. That you couldn’t accept my feelings because you didn’t feel the same way. I was afraid that you were going to tell me that you didn’t have time for me or a relationship that didn’t involve hero work. I was too scared to hear you say those things and that’s why I avoided you. As much as I’ve accepted it as truth, I still didn’t want to feel the pain of rejection. So, yeah. I’m a coward.” You had dropped your gaze by this point, too ashamed to meet his eye, by now.

There was a long silence between you as Bakugo seemed to process everything that you’d said. Your heart sped up even faster than it had been before, nearly to the point that you thought it should be impossible for it to beat so fast. You just wished he would say something, already, so that you didn’t have to listen to the pounding of your pulse.

“Well, you weren’t wrong.” A heavy sigh left him. “Except about one thing.” Your gaze snapped back up to his, wide-eyed with curiosity. His expression was unexpectedly soft, making your breath catch in your lungs. “I think you already know what I’m talking about, though, don’t you?” He pointed at the box you still clutched against your chest.

A small smile lifted your lips as you nodded. “Yeah. You wouldn’t have gone through the trouble, otherwise. I realized that as soon as I opened them.” Your smile faded, though, as there were still things that were unclear between you. He liked you back, but that didn’t mean he wanted a relationship.

A large, warm hand grasped your arm and pulled you closer to him until you were nearly pressed against his bare chest. You felt the heat returning to your face as you stared up at him, his face coming closer to yours. “I want you and that’s just something both of us are going to have to deal with.” Before you could ask what he meant, his mouth was on yours as he kissed you.

Bakugo’s kiss was mostly teeth and you could tell he’d never kissed anyone before, but you didn’t care. As far as you were concerned, it was the perfect kiss. When he finally pulled away, he couldn’t meet your gaze as a dusting of pink colored his cheeks. You couldn’t keep the stupid grin off your face as you stared at him.

Finally, his burning gaze met yours and you could see sparks flashing in his red eyes. “You want to come in?” A heat flashed through you and you felt your cheeks warm as you nodded shyly. He stepped aside, opening his door far enough for you to step in. As you passed the threshold, you knew that you had nothing to worry about.

Your confessions to each other hadn’t been perfect, and there was still a lot that the two of you had to work through, but you had faith that everything was going to work out just fine. You had shed your fear and looked forward to the future with nothing but excited anticipation.

#my work #White Day #Valentines Day event #Bakugo Katsuki #Bakugo x reader #bnha #mha #My Hero Academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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