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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Riding High

Ch15: This is Me

Chapter Summary: Fliss tells Frank exactly what happened to her during her marriage.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse and violence. Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW). NO UNDERAGE READERS PLEASE!!!!!!!

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a REALLY heavy going chapter, but all you regulars will know this has been brewing for quite some time. PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS! If any of those things are triggers, please avoid. If anyone is wondering, the face claim for John is an older Ben Affleck (best way I can describe) in his Batman days.

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 14

All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

“Hey Titch.” Bill greeted Fliss as she walked down the steps to the pool area he and Verity both sat at the table, him drinking a coffee, Verity pouring over a book. “You’re home early.” “Well my lessons are done.” She said, shrugging. “And, I err, I need to talk to you both.”

“What’s wrong?” Verity put her book down and pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “You’ve not broken up with Frank have you?” “What? No, no, we’re errr fine.” She sat down in the spare chair and looked at her Dad then her Mum before taking a deep breath “I got a call this morning. John’s up for Parole. His hearing is in six weeks.”

Her parents reacted exactly the way she had anticipated they would do, in a similar angry manner to her Brother who she had called after speaking to Frank. Bill made a growling noise in his throat, slamming his mug on the table whilst Verity’s right hand flew to her chest, the other reaching out to grasp at Fliss’ shoulder.

“Oh, love.” “Fucker.” Bill growled, before he shook his head and looked at Fliss “Can you appeal?” “Yeah.” She nodded “But I don’t know…” she took a deep breath “I don’t want to go back into a court room. That’s what he will want, to see me there, again…and…”

“Honey…you have to-“ “No, I don’t” Fliss cut her mother off. “Frank’s right, the days of me having to do anything are over. I’m going to speak to Greg Cullen, Frank’s friend who’s an attorney and I’m gonna look my options when the full information comes through and go from there…”

Bill nodded and Fliss didn’t miss the look he shot Verity, silently telling her to leave it. “Sounds sensible.” he said. “So, I take it from that you’ve talked to Frank?”

Fliss nodded, “Lunchtime yeah.”

She fell silent and Bill leaned over and gently squeezed her hand “What is it Titch?”

She looked up at him and licked her lips. “He doesn’t know everything, not how bad it got and…” she took another deep breath “I need to tell him, so, we both agreed to sit down and talk tonight but it needed to be done just the two of us. So, I was wondering….” “Of course we’ll have Mary.” Verity nodded, anticipating the question.

“We did promise to take her to the Shake Shack at some point this week.” Bill agreed “Seems as good a night as any.” Fliss smiled. “Frank’s going to explain the basics, she’s too clever not to notice something’s going on but that’s it, she won’t know any details so…”

“Okay.” Verity nodded, before she took a deep breath and stood up “I made some apple and courgette loaf…you got room for a slice?” “Always room for that!” Fliss grinned “And I wouldn’t say no to a coffee…”

Verity smiled, dropped her hand on Fliss’ shoulder as she stood up and made her way towards the house. Bill watched her go before he turned to Fliss.

“How are you really feeling?”

“Like shit.” She said honestly “I was so upset before but Frank made me see things a little more logically once I’d finished my melt down.” “Liss, you do know this is going to be a heavy conversation.” Bill looked at her as he took a breath “Just don’t be too worried or concerned if he gets a little, I dunno, upset maybe.” Fliss nodded, she already knew that. She knew it was going to be as hard for Frank to hear as it was for her to tell him.

“But for what it’s worth…” Bill looked at her. “I’m glad you’ve got him. I’ve seen such a change in you since you met him last year, even before you started…” he made a clicking noise with his tongue and winked, causing Fliss to snort and shake her head. “He’s a good guy, and as you well know they don’t come around often.” “I know.” she chewed her lip. “Dad, you don’t think he’ll look at me any different do you, once he knows…” “Fliss, you could probably set fire to a cage full of puppies and he’d still think the sun shone out of your arse.” Bill snorted, waving off her concern.

“Wow, that’s…dark.” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and now I think of it…he’d probably find that a little strange…and sick…” Bill mused, flashing her a wink. “But you know what I mean.” “Thanks pops.” she smiled, and Bill opened his arms and she grinned standing up. She moved to sit on her dad’s knee as he wrapped her into a hug, kissing her head.

“Thought I got too old to sit on your lap years ago” she teased, resting her head against his.

“You’ll never be too old for a Poppa Bill snuggle.” he chuckled, rubbing her back “No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little girl.” ***** Frank couldn’t be bothered speaking to Evelyn, he had far more pressing things on his mind. So, instead, when he arrived to pick Mary up from school he simply fired her a text message saying he would call later in the week when it was convenient to talk. To his surprise, she replied back almost immediately saying she was glad to hear from him and would Wednesday around six pm be suitable. His answer was a single word, yes, before he slid his phone back in his pocket and went in to collect Mary.

“Bit of a break in routine tonight.” he said, looking at her “Bill and V are taking you out to dinner, something about the Shake Shack?” “Yesssss!” Mary punched the air before she looked at Frank suspiciously “Hang on, why? Did you speak to Evelyn? Has something gone wrong? Did she change her mind?” “No, no nothing like that.” he shook his head “I’ve messaged Evelyn and I’m going to call her on Wednesday to sort things out properly when I can have a good discussion.” “So what’s going on?”

Frank took a deep breath, he’d agreed with Lissy he would tell Mary the basics, the very basics, so that she had a comprehension of what was happening, but he was still struggling to find the words.

“You know that Fliss’ ex-husband…John, he went to prison right?”

“Yeah.” “Well, he was locked up for doing some bad stuff to Fliss. Like he hurt her, a lot…” “Oh.” Mary frowned “That’s…why would he…” “Because he’s an ass hole.” Frank said simply “The point is Stack, in six week or so he’s going to go for something called Parole, you know that that is?” “No” “It’s when a prisoner is considered for early release. If John gets it, it means he will be free, but have to abide by certain rules for a while.” Mary nodded, as they reached the truck.

“So tonight me and Fliss need to talk about some stuff, about how we deal with this going forward as Fliss has a chance to give evidence at his appeal as to why he shouldn’t be let out. You following me?” Mary nodded “Evidence that proves he’s a bad guy, right?”

“Absolutely. But I don’t want you talking to anyone about this oayk? It’s private for Fliss. I’m only telling you because you have a right to understand what’s happening.” “I won’t tell anyone.” Mary nodded. “Wait, not even Roberta?” “Not even Roberta. It’s up to Fliss who she tells.”

“But Bill and Verity will know.” “Yes.” Frank said “But I expect they’ll be upset too so…just keep it shut, please.” he ended a little lamely.

“Okay.” Mary nodded.

They both piled in the truck and headed back to their apartment to pick up a few things for Mary, Frank having enough stashed at Fliss’ as it was before they drove over. Frank opened the gate with the fob Fliss had given him months ago, and they drove through to be greeted by Thor who was running up and down the drive chasing Bill’s terrier in some kind of odd game.

“Hey, Gorgeous.” Frank smiled as he got out of his truck and leaned down to give Fliss a soft kiss “You okay? How did they take it?” “As well as I expected. Mum kept up appearances and then left to go into the kitchen to fetch a drink so she could melt down in private and Dad, well, he was angry but…” she shrugged

“I’ve explained as well as I can to Mary” he turned his head to see her running up the drive being followed by the dogs “And I’ve told her not to mention it to anyone.”

“Okay.” Fliss nodded, her eyes also on the young girl. “Bill said after dinner, if it’s ok with you, he might take her down to the Marina to watch the night trawlers setting out. It fascinates the twins and the guys there are always happy to field their questions so…”

Frank shrugged “Yeah, if she wants. Doesn’t bother me as long as she’s in bed for a semi-reasonable hour.”

Together they made their way into the house where Bill swept Mary up into his arms in a hug as she started chattering to him about some project she was going to be working on for Girl Scouts and, after a short chat, Fliss and Frank headed back over to the annex. They made normal conversation, just like they always did as Fliss cooked them a quick, easy dinner of grilled seabass and salad, but there was an atmosphere, like a huge cloud was hanging over them. Which it was. And that the pair of them were trying to ignore it. Which they were. Eventually, when the dishes were done, the beer was opened and the wine was poured, they couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Fliss told Frank to head outside and start the fire pit, which he did whilst she disappeared upstairs before returning a little later with a small, blue ring bound book, which she held on her lap as she sat next to him. "I don't even know where to start." Fliss tucked her legs underneath her on the seat as Frank threw another chunk of wood on the fire. "I suppose the beginning is the best place."

"Usually, yeah..." Frank smiled, sweeping a piece of her hair behind her ears as he turned side ways on the wicker couch to face her.

“Okay.” She swallowed a bit of her wine before she placed it on the table. “Right from the beginning?”

“Whatever you want. I’ll listen.”

She nodded, and then with a deep breath she began to talk.

“We first met at the Olympics in 2008. It was my first big break. I was only a reserve rider but I was still buzzing you know, swept away in it all.” she smiled softly “John was on the US team, had been for a while and, well, his attention and praise, I guess it flattered me. I saw him again later on that year at the International Championships and then over the twelve months or so at Badminton, HOYS...that’s the Horse of the Year show.” she explained as Frank gave her a blank look. “All the big gigs, but it wasn't until the World Equestrian Games in 2010 that we hooked up.” Frank smiled at her choice of language as she snorted. “Yup I had a Friday night fuck.”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as she continued.

“I can’t describe being on the road like that, but it’s intense. You're away for weeks and its, well it’s like a different world. From then on over the next year or so we started emailing and every chance we got be it training or competitions we met up, spent time together. Then In 2011 we basically decided to try and go for it and did the whole long distance thing whilst he was living in the US, me in the UK, and when I won my medal in 2012 he declared how much he loved me and was so proud of me in the press when he did any interviews…”

Frank watched as a slight smile spread across her face, and she bit her lip as she looked back at him, shrugging.

“It was like a fairy tale.” she whispered “I got swept up in it all and then packed up and moved to Boston in the October. That November I had my accident which you know about, and I was in a back brace for twelve weeks and he was amazing.” she shrugged. “He proposed to me that December and honestly Frank, he cared and looked after me I just…I don’t know where that John went. Looking back, I often wonder if he had some kind of brain injury that turned him into an asshole.” “Don’t make excuses for him.” Frank said softly “Please…” “I’m not.” she assured him. “I just really don’t understand.” “There’s nothing to understand.” Frank looked at her shaking his head.

“Anyway, by the February in 2013 I was just starting to exercise again. God I was in a bad way. Mentally and physically. Because I’d been immobile I was out of shape, felt fat, ugly, I’d put on a good 2 stone…or…erm… 28 pounds.” She shrugged “But John, well, he didn’t care. Or so I thought. Now I look back on it I think this is where it all started.” She reached for her wine and Frank drained the rest of his beer. He glanced at the bottle and Fliss looked at him.

“Wanna break out the strong stuff?” she asked gently.

“Well, if any situation warrants it, I feel this one does.” He nodded smiling.

She uncurled her legs from beneath her and Frank watched her go. Normally he would offer to fetch the drinks but he sensed she needed to move, get away from the intensity for a moment so to speak so he let her go. With a sigh his head fell back, his eyes looking up at the sky which was streaked with red and purples and pinks from the now setting sun. His head was a whirlwind of emotion already and they hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Fliss emerged from the house with a bottle of Monkey Shoulder scotch and two tumblers, one filled with ice. Frank scoffed a laugh at her, it was a long standing joke she liked ice in her shorts where as he preferred them straight, something she always pulled a face at given how he couldn’t drink anything else at room temperature.

Silently she poured him a good measure and he took it from her with a thanks as she returned to her previous position and Frank shifted slightly again to face her, his right hand curled round his drink, his left resting along the back of the garden sofa they were on. She took a sip and then once more launched back into her memories.

“We had a Ball to attend. One that the US team were holding, and I mentioned I had nothing to wear. So, John ordered me something, a beautiful sky blue gown only it didn’t fit. When I told him and got upset he said it was a genuine mistake and he’d ordered my usual size and apologised and promised to return it, but then suggested maybe I kept it as motivation to lose the weight in time for the ball at the start of May and get into it…”

“He wanted you to lose 28 pound in two months?” Frank looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Whilst you were just recovering?”

“I did it.” she shrugged in answer to his question. “I pushed myself, skipped meals…but…” Frank made an annoyed noise in his throat, but other than that made no further comment.

“There were other little things, controlling things he did as well. Like he took over the arrangements for the wedding and governed the first time I got back on a horse, told me when I could go back to work, start the training to become a Coach…all dressed up as the fact he cared and didn’t want me to rush back into things. Then one night in the September, I snapped. There was a trip organised, a conference, for the trainee Coaches intake for that year, and he told me I wasn’t going. So I bit back, and told him that he wasn’t my father and that was the first time he hit me. Straight slap, right across the face.” Frank watched as she took a sip of her drink before she shrugged. “I locked myself in the bathroom, and he sat outside the door for hours, crying, apologising, saying he was sorry, just under a lot of stress and worried about me…begged for forgiveness…pleaded with me not to call off the wedding, and you know the stupid thing?” She looked at Frank. “I always, always swore that if a man raised his hand to me, I’d be done, out of there, but I forgave him, like an idiot. And married him four weeks later, just as planned.”

She paused for a moment, shifting slightly to pull her phone out of her pocket. Frank watched her, curiously for a moment as she tapped at the screen before she handed it to him and he glanced down. It was an article, published in Your Horse magazine, or so the tag at the top told him.

‘From Olympic Rings to Wedding Rings!’ The headline read, and he scanned down, ignoring the blurb on the text, catching the odd phrase such as ‘the stars aligned’ and ‘fairy-tale romance…’ which made him want to puke as there was nothing fairy-tale about it. Eventually he reached a photo and Frank got his first look at the man he hated with every single inch of his body. He was tall, sharp jawed, quite athletic looking. Typically handsome with dark eyes and dark hair. He stood next to Fliss in his black tuxedo, his arm curled around her waist as he smiled at the camera. Fliss looked stunning. Her wedding dress was princess like, clinched in at the waist and flared out in layer upon layer of tulle which was adorned with crystals that caught the light. Her hair was twisted up off her face and she wore some kind of diamond studded headdress. She was smiling but as Frank looked closer he could see her eyes...they didn't have that sparkle he knew and loved.

"I hated everything about the day." She said gently. "I wanted a quiet beach wedding, somewhere warm, with a simple dress, close friends, family... a big tent with fairly lights and snack food..."

Frank smiled as what she was describing was so effortlessly her, but the smile slipped from his face as she continued.

"...but he insisted on the full hog. Huge Boston based wedding at a church and then a sit down reception at the Harbor with a party in the evening. But that was John. Always about showing off...even my engagement ring was another way for him to display to the world what he could afford. This huge six carat brilliant cut diamond...it was gaudy."

Frank handed her the phone and she shut the web browser down.

"Sounds so ungrateful doesn’t it." She snorted "Most girls would kill for a day like that"

"Most girls don’t have a guy controlling their every move" he said gently. "It's not ungrateful at all. A wedding day should be about both people, well, so I’ve heard."

"It was a circus." She shrugged. “There were people there whose names I didn’t even know. I didn’t want the magazines there either but he talked me round, saying that if we didn’t let them in they’d simply use unofficial photos and…well, anyway that was that.”

Frank reached over and took the empty glass off her and topped both the tumblers up, glad of the momentary distraction. As he handed her back to her she smiled and took a sip.

“Things were fine for a while, well, in that he didn’t hit me, but then in the February of 2014 we had another argument. I’d been away with the training school and they always ran updates on their websites about the conferences, and there was a photo of me laughing with one of the other guys, another competitor from the US team who was also training to become a coach. Nothing that anyone else would read anything into…but he did. Accused me of cheating and when it told him he was being ridiculous he hit me. Only this wasn’t a slap, it was a full on punch. And he fractured my cheek bone.”

Frank took a sharp breath, and swallowed a mouthful of scotch.

“Once again he was sorry…and then it kinda went like that for the most. He’d go weeks without hitting me and then he’d flip and wham. A slap here and a punch there…”

The flippancy with which she was describing it, like it was something that was normal, that just happened was beginning to make Frank’s blood boil. He tried not to show outwardly what he was feeling inside, but he clearly had as Fliss reached along the back of the seat to tangle her fingers into his. He gave her hand a squeeze as she continued to talk.

“That April I was scheduled for a big competitive comeback with Team GB. I had my sponsors lined up, it was being touted on the circuit as Gallagher’s Return to Glory… press interviews, and everything….you name it. And then- “ “Hang on, Gallagher?” Frank cut her off. “Did you not change your name?” Fliss shook her head. “Nope.” She studied him for a moment, smiling. “You look surprised.”

“I am. Given how controlling he was, I expected him to want you to change it.”

“I didn’t want to. It made sense for me to keep my name, it was all about the brand, see.” She shrugged. “John, surprisingly wasn’t all that bothered.” She took a sip of her drink. “Anyway, that aside…the comeback was arranged and four weeks before I was due to fly home he told me I wasn’t going. I said he couldn’t stop me. I guess he took that as a challenge as he grabbed me by the hair and shoved my hand in the doorframe of the kitchen. Slammed it shut four times. Broke three of my fingers and dislocated my wrist. So I missed out. And I never competed again, well not professionally anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frank’s face screwed up as he shook his head “Lissy…” He trailed off as her fingers tightened around his, and he brought her hand up to softly kiss over her knuckles, almost as if doing so would take away the pain of that injury, the injury that was long healed but had left scars deep on her soul, deeper than any physical scars could go.

“That’s when it started escalating and I ended up in hospital with a broken nose in the April, that was the result of an argument about me going out, a fractured arm in the July that was because I’d dared to refuse to have sex with him in the car outside the fucking store and two broken ribs in the October which was a result of me saying I didn’t want to host a Halloween party. A doctor at the hospital who had been looking at my records started asking questions and gave me a leaflet on Domestic Violence which, obviously I refused to take. But then, that Christmas when he insisted on spending it alone and not with my family, I dunno why but I called one of the numbers, anonymously. Started looking into it a bit more and that’s where I got the idea to keep a diary. Document it, in case I did ever want to leave and press charges.”

She nodded to the book she had brought with her which now rested on the table and Frank looked at it, before he turned back to her.

“You know, to many people it’s so black and white. Mum and Dad were begging me to leave him but I brushed it off. I lied to my own parents, told them they’d been work accidents and that I was fine. That’s what it turns you into, a liar, but, I loved him. Well, I thought I did. Now, looking back it was more fear than anything. He’d spent so long telling me that if I left I’d be nothing that he’d find me. I believed him, so convinced myself it was easier to stay.”

She moved, placing her tumbler on the table and reached for the book and handed it to him.

“The rest is in there.” she said softly as he too set his glass down and took the book from her gently and he was surprised to see his hands were shaking slightly. “Apparently they say over time you recall bad memories easier than good ones, and that you can also distort them, make them worse than they actually were so I stuck to facts. It’s pretty impersonal but, well…” Frank looked at the cover before he looked back at her and she nodded. With a swallow he shifted slightly, opening it.

The first entry he saw was dated January 2nd 2015 and simply stated that John had given her a slap as she hadn’t made the bed fast enough for his liking. Then there was another on January the 21st saying he had launched a crystal decanter of whiskey at her head as she’d filled it with the wrong brand. They continued along this vein until he paused at an entry for February 12th.

Burnt me with a cigarette on my right hip because I burnt dinner.

Frank’s jaw clenched, but he continued to read, the diary was littered with him giving her slaps and punches for whatever fucking reason the asshole wanted, but it was the big ones that sprung out at him, that made him want to be sick.

February 17th. Grabbed my hair and banged my face into the wall because I refused sex in the living room whilst guests were in the garden for the Spring Party.

March 21st. Whipped me with a belt after a guy was chatting me up in a bar. Drew blood.

March 22nd. Violent sex to remind me I was his.

At that Frank stopped reading and looked at her, his voice sticking in his throat. “Violent sex. He raped you?” Fliss took a breath. “I never actually told him no but he wouldn’t have listened if I had. He left a lot of bruises.”

“Fucking hell, Lissy…” Frank shook his head “This…that is not…” “I know.” she soothed him softly. “I know.”

He looked at her again, her eyes shining with the emotion that her voice didn’t betray. He had no idea how she could be so calm about all this, but then he realised that was more than likely her coping mechanism. That she’d probably detached herself from all of this on purpose. Because it was sink or swim. And she’d chosen to swim.

April 13th. Choked me whilst I was in the bath. Held me underwater to the point I almost stopped breathing. Stopped when Loki bit him.

April 14th. Loki dead. John said he poisoned him as a lesson to show that he was a guard dog for the house not me.

“He almost killed you.” Frank stuttered as he looked up at her, this time unable to hide his emotions. He felt his eyes swimming and he looked away as Fliss gently took his hand again and she nodded as he looked back up at her.

“The day after he killed Loki was when I took the overdose.” She said gently. “That day when he’d choked me, as I was slipping under, I felt nothing but peace, this overwhelming sense of serenity so, I saw a way out.” She took a deep breath. “That was the point at which Bill, Mum and Steve started to get really concerned, but he managed to convince them, the doctors, me that I was depressed, that it all stemmed from my accident. I don’t think my family really believed him, not fully, but what could they do?”

At that point she sniffed and Frank saw the tears form in her eyes “I put them through so much and…”

“Stop, stop.” He said, his voice cracking as he tossed the book aside and pulled her to him. She melted into his embrace, her face pressing into his chest as he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head “None of this was your fault, none of it…” She stayed still, her shoulders shaking slightly as he simply held her close, blinking back his own tears as they sat there for a moment before she pulled back.

“The rest of it is much the same. Although he eased off a bit and convinced me that trying for a baby would solved all our issues. So I went with it. Each month it failed he’d punish me when I got my period, but you know that bit anyway.”

Frank gently reached out and wiped her tears away with his thumbs as she smiled at him sadly.

“I found out I was pregnant in the January of 2016 and that was the moment I decided I needed to get out. I couldn’t bring a baby into that.” She sniffed, her eyes swimming. “I feel so guilty about that you know, that I got rid of it. It wasn’t the baby’s fault but being tied to him for ever, I just, I couldn’t. I know that’s selfish but…”

“No, it’s not selfish.” Frank held her face in his hands as he looked at her, driving his words home “You got nothing to feel guilty about, you got that? Nothing.”

There was a silence as he simply looked at her, his chest heaving with emotion as she turned her head slightly to place a soft kiss on his palm before she leaned into his touch, like a dog seeking comfort and reassurance. As if on cue Thor leapt up onto the seat in between them, forcing his way into the middle, his back turned on Frank as he licked at Fliss’ face, soft noises and whines coming from him as he did so.

“It’s okay…” she gently laughed at the dog, stroking his head.

Frank was almost glad of the reprieve that the German shepherd had given him because he was utterly lost. He had no idea how to comfort her, or if his words would even begin to scratch the surface of what she had told him. After a moment or two Thor settled, simply curling up in between them and lay his head on Fliss’ lap as she scratched his ears and looked at Frank. “That was when I started making plans. Told my mum I was coming to Florida for a visit and needed her to book me a ticket, but she knew. She could tell this was me crying for help, so she sorted everything out and said that her and dad were coming to get me. I had the abortion on the Tuesday morning, I was booked on a flight on Thursday evening, Thor as well…it was all ready to go…but John was supposed to be away at some kind of training conference until the Friday but he came back early. I was packing up a few things and he caught me.” She swallowed “And then, something in me snapped, like really snapped. And I let rip. I told him he was an ass hole, that what he was doing wasn’t normal and I told him all about the baby as well, how I’d gotten rid of it because he’d have been the worst father in the world and he did a number on me which you know about. He almost killed me. The police arrived, mum had tried calling me several times and when she couldn’t get hold of me she called them, turns out so had one of the neighbours as they’d heard the screaming and shouting. That was it. He was arrested and, well, I pressed charges and moved here.”

A silence fell between them, one which Frank was desperately trying to find the words to break, but failing, miserably. He wanted to kill the fucker, it was beyond him how anyone could ever want to harm a hair on her head. Not merely because she’d been helpless, and powerless to stop it, but because she was so goddamned amazing.

“Lissy…” he eventually said, reaching out again for her hand, not missing the fact the dog was eyeing him beadily as he did so. “I don’t know what to say…what you went through, it’s abhorrent and…”

“You know what the worse bit was?” she looked at Frank, cutting him off. “Reliving all that in court. Despite the evidence, police catching him in the act he denied it and I had to tell everyone what he had done. He let his Attorney cross examine me, call me a liar, and then changed his plea. Simply because he could. He wanted that one last moment of humiliation and that’s why I can’t and won’t go to his hearing in person.”

Frank was surprised, and also a little pleased to see the fire in her eyes and the absolute conviction in her tone, it was almost like she had reached a revelation, a turning point, a moment where she seized control over it all, and when she spoke again, he realised that was exactly what she was doing.

“When I was talking to mum and dad before, I realised that I don’t wanna live my life in this state of panic and worry about what comes next. If he gets out he gets out. I can't control that. But, like my therapist said, what I can control is how I deal with it. And the only control I have is to NOT to let him control me any-more. If I go to that parole hearing he gets me in a room with him, again, and why should he?” She took a deep breath and looked at Frank, her large brown eyes locking onto his. “I’ll talk to Greg, he can write the statement and I’ll submit it but I’m not going.”

“You don’t have to.” He shook his head.

“I just wanna...I just want to live this normal life, with you and Mary and...be Lissy. Not Felicity, Lissy. Your Lissy.”

“You are.” he assured her. “I love you, you know that.”

“I know, and I love you…and God did that scare me at first because, well I hadn’t been expecting it. I was done, happy on my own and then you walked into my life…or sailed into it…” At that he let out a soft chuckle. “And I know you're not that man. You're not John and that you’d never hurt me...not because you can’t but because you don’t want to.” she took another deep breath as she glanced down at Thor who was now asleep, the dog clearly sensing no threat was there “But, Frank, there’s this part of me that thinks it's too good to be true. That one day the whole thing will come tumbling down, and I know I have no reason to think that but I can’t help but be scared. We’re only five months down the line and you're already pissed off...” “I’m not pissed off at you.” He shook his head. “I’m angry at him putting you through this. And I just want you to know that I’m not perfect, I’m uncomfortable with the fact you think I am, that you think that this…us…” He waved his hand between them. “Is something special because I treat you normally. It’s special, yeah, of course it is, but that’s because it just is. Not because I’m this magical saint like human, when in fact I’m so far from that.”

He reached over and took both her hands in his, and intertwined their fingers, looking at her. “You know, I never thought I’d ever want to settle down, that I’d ever find someone I wanted all that domestic shit with but then…I met you and…I dunno, you just…you sideswiped me Lissy, and well, yeah, it’s really early days you’re right, and what I feel for you after such a short period of time is, well, it is scary, I’ll admit that but I wanna be in this for the long run and that means we work through whatever it is together, honestly.” She smiled “So I'll tell you when I'm scared and worried about stuff and you tell me when I'm being an idiot?”

He laughed and nodded, “Something like that.”

She leaned over, ignoring the large dog in between them and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “Deal.”

He smiled and pressed his forehead to hers, but before either of them had chance to do anything or say anything else, Thor pricked his ears up and shot off the seat between them, jogging to the back door. Both of them looked to see Mary walking into the yard, followed by Verity and Bill.

“Hey.” Verity greeted them both as Fliss smiled at her mum. “You both ok?” “Yeah.” Fliss nodded. “We’re good.”

Bill eyed Frank a little cautiously, which didn’t pass Frank by so he simply flashed Bill a little nod and saw the man relax visibly before he held up a bag.

“Mary thought you might fancy ice cream so we brought you some back from the Shack.” He said.

“It was awesome!” Mary bounded onto Frank’s knee drawing a grunt from him as she sat perched on his lap. “I had the Oreo milkshake and a huge burger with fries and…” she paused and looked at Bill “What was that stuff on them?” “Sour cream kiddo.” Bill answered and Mary made a noise of recognition.

“Sour cream and cheese” she nodded “And then I had a cookie dough and fudge brownie sundae…” “So basically you aint gonna want to eat for a week.” Frank looked at her, and Mary grinned.

“We got you some of the black forest because I know you love that, Titch.” Bill said “And Mary said Frank would want the peanut butter brittle.”

“Mary was right!” Frank grinned, hi-fiving her before he stood up, slinging her over his shoulder causing her to giggle. He placed her down, his hand gently caressing the back of her head “What do you say to Bill and V?” “I already said thanks!”

“She did.” Verity smiled “And it was our pleasure.”

“Go get your stuff on for bed. I’ll be up in a second.” He said to her gently and it was a testament to how tired she was that she didn’t protest. She gave Fliss a hug, then Verity and Bill before she skipped inside, Thor following.

“I’ll put that in the freezer…unless you want some now?” Fliss made to take the bag off her Dad and looked at Frank. He shook his head.

“Save it for tomorrow, Sweetheart.”

Fliss nodded and headed inside, Bill and Verity then turned to Frank.

“Is…she, I mean, are you…are you both…” Verity started and Frank gave her a smile.

“We’re ok.” He assured the woman. “I promise.”

Verity nodded as Bill looked at him.

“You sure?”

“It wasn’t nice hearing.” Frank shrugged “I’m not sure what else I can say Bill.”

Bill nodded and at that point Fliss returned and Verity smiled at her.

“We’ll leave you to it.” She said, giving her a hug which she returned. Bill gently clapped his hand on Frank’s shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze and Frank knew it was the man’s way of trying to reassure him somewhat.

He wasn’t sure whether it had worked.

***** An hour or so later after a bit of TV, Fliss announced she was going for a shower and then heading to bed. Telling her he’d be up in a moment, Frank stayed where he was, simply mulling things over in his head. He prided himself on being a calm, level headed guy, able to logically see his way through most situations but this, well this was fucking with his head. He was angry, really angry that someone had put her through all of that and he was struggling to process it.

After torturing himself for another ten or so minutes, with a resigned sigh he pushed himself off the sofa, and turned off the TV. Once upstairs he poked his head into the spare room and saw Mary was fast asleep, Thor curled around her feet. The dog looked up at him, but made no attempt to move as he turned off the lamp and headed across the small hallway to the master bedroom. To his surprise the lamp was on but Fliss was nowhere to be found.

Now that he thought about it, he could hear the shower was still running. She must not have gotten in straight away as she’d come upstairs a good fifteen minutes or so ago. With a slight frown he headed to the door of the bathroom and gently nudged it open a touch.

“Lissy?” he asked softly, “Baby, you ok?”

She didn’t answer, but as the steam from the water cleared Frank could make her out through the frosted glass of the screen. She was leaning on the tiles, facing the shower, one palm flat on the wall by the side of the temperature dial, the other clamped over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking.

Frank felt his eyes mist up again and he pulled his top over his head before shedding the rest of his clothes and stepping into the cubicle behind her.

“Hey…” He said gently, his hand dropping to her hip, the skin slick to his touch as she turned to face him. “Come’ere…”

She went willingly, melting into his strong arms as they curled round her and she buried her face into his chest.

“I’m sorry…I…” She sobbed and he simply held her close, her bare skin pressed to his as the water beat down on them both, his hands gently caressing her back.

“Let it out, I got you…” his face pressed into her hair as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “I got you…”

How long he stayed there simply holding her, he had no idea. It was as if all time had stood still and nothing existed to him, nothing but the girl he was cradling in his arms. Eventually her breathing evened out and she pulled back slightly to look at him. Without a word she stood on her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips which he took, gratefully as he brushed her sodden hair off her face.

“Turn around baby girl.” He said softly, and she looked at him, almost questioningly.

“Trust me…” He assured her, and she did as she was told. Frank reached round for her shampoo, squeezed an amount onto his palm and gently began to work it into her hair. He felt her relax slightly, her shoulders dropping, the tension seeping out of her as he massaged her scalp softly, the apple and cinnamon notes from the suds rising up his nostrils went a long way to calming him too.

“That okay?” he asked her softly, and she gave a low hmmm in response, simply leaning back further so her head was almost laying against his shoulder. He felt her relax completely against him, the suds from her hair spreading to his chest. Eventually, when he’d lathered enough he gently dropped his head, the water running off his own hair onto her shoulder, as he gently spoke into her ear and asked if she was ready to rinse it off. She nodded and allowed him to guide her round so she was facing him, tipping her head back slightly against the stream from the shower and he reached up, brushing the shampoo away from her face and down her long hair, causing her to press against him.

Eventually her hair was completely rinsed clear and he repeated the process with her conditioner, all the time making sure to talk to her, ask her what she wanted or needed, and she caught him by surprise slightly when she asked if she could return the favour. Nodding he turned around and dipped his head slightly as she gently wound her hands into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. When she’d finished he turned back to face her, dropping his head to rinse out his hair.

“You’re gonna get it in your eyes standing this way.” she said gently, as she looked up at him.

“Don’t care.” He said, his hands gently resting on her hips. “Just wanna see you.”

And he did. He drank her in, every singled damned detail. Her eyes, her nose, those little freckles that at first glance you might miss, her defined shoulders, that dip in her collar bone, the line the water was tracing between her breasts, the curve of her hips…fuck he was unashamedly aching for her now, something he knew she’d spotted but hadn’t commented on. When he looked up he caught her eyes again, and she gently reached up with her hands, the pads of her fingers cupping his face through his short beard. He stayed still as she simply studied him, before she pulled his face down to hers where he captured her mouth in a soft, gentle kiss. He let her guide him, tell him how much she wanted, or how little she wanted, his hands simply splaying across the soft skin on her back. Eventually she pulled away and pressed her forehead to his collar bone, her hands slipping round his waist as she held onto him and he was happy to let her, simply basking in the fact she was seeking his comfort. Eventually she pulled away and took his hand in hers, examining his fingers.

“You’re pruned up.” She said softly and he chuckled.

“So are you.” He pointed out, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “You ready to get out?”

She nodded, so Frank reached around her, turning off the shower before he opened the cubicle door and crossed the small bathroom, reaching for a towel which he quickly ran over his hair before he wrapped it around his waist. Lifting her robe off the hook behind the door, he held it out for her and she turned and slipped her arms into it. Frank leaned around, ensuring it was wrapped tightly around her whilst she did up the belt as he lifted another towel off the rack for her hair. He began to gently squeeze the water out of her long, auburn locks, tenderly drying her hair, hands softly rubbing over her scalp as once again she tipped her head back, eyes closed. Once he’d finished he dropped a kiss to her neck and guided her back through to the bedroom.

Fliss made her way in as Frank shut the door behind them and she padded over towards the bed before she turned and looked at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing.” she said, “I was just thinking.” “What about?”

“Something you said before about how you’re nothing special because you treat me normally.”

“I’m not.”

“Well that’s just it.” She stepped forward towards him “You are to me…no matter how many times you try and protest otherwise.”

“Lissy…”

“You know everything now, and you still want me…” her voice was nothing but a broken whisper and it made Frank’s heart ache.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never not want you.” he own voiced cracked slightly.

“Frankie, I just…” “Look, I promise you…” his nose bumped against hers. “Nothing you told me today changes the way I feel about you. How could it? You’re so strong, and brave and…”

“I don’t feel it.” “Well you are.” he said, his hands cupping her face “Look at what you dealt with and came out the other side…please don’t ever worry about what I think of you, because honestly I think you’re the most amazing woman on the planet.” At that she smiled softly at him, as he dropped his lips to her neck, gently ghosting his mouth over her skin “And you’re mine…”

“Promise?” She asked, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Cross my heart.” He mumbled, gently kissing below her ear. He felt her give a soft shudder, which he took as an encouragement and gently continued his actions, tracing his mouth down her neck to where it met the soft towel of her robe. With deft hands he reached out, and gently undid the tie around her middle, causing the robe to gape open and he ran his fingers underneath the edges before he gently shrugged it off her shoulders. He placed a soft kiss to her collar bone as he felt her hands move between them, gently pulling the edge of the towel out from where it was tucked in on itself, dropping it to the floor.

Tenderly he took her face in his hands and kissed her, softly, his tongue guiding her mouth open and she obliged, deepening the kiss slightly as her hands moved upwards, gently tangling in his hair at the nape of his neck. His movements slow and deliberate, Frank guided them her the last few steps over to the bed and laid her down, crawling over her, before his lips moved and he chained soft kisses across her jaw line, down her neck, through the valley between her breasts. He kissed the small burn scar that lay above her right hip, the origin of which he now knew, then across towards her belly button, simply taking his god-damned time, making sure he worshiped every single inch of her body he could get his hands on. His fingers traced her thighs and then up her curves as he moved back upwards, before capturing her lips again in a soft kiss that grew more urgent, but still stayed tender as Frank poured every single emotion he was feeling into her, wanting her to understand how he felt, how much he loved her, how much that was not going to change no matter what. His hand flexed on her hip and she let out a soft moan into his mouth making him pull back slightly, and press his forehead to hers. "I love you." He said softly "I know." She replied, voice barely a whisper. “I love you too.”

His hand moved from her hip, sliding down between her legs as he simply remained where he was, his head pressed to hers and she let out a soft gasp at his touch as he gently worked her. Before long her hips started moving in time with his motions and when he slid his fingers inside of her, curling them slightly she let out a soft cry, her back arching slightly. He dipped his head, gently paying some attention to her beasts, his tongue circling her nipple, before he grazed it softly with his teeth, another action that had her crying out, begging him for more, for all of him. And he wanted to give her what she wanted, exactly what she wanted.

Moving slightly so he was fully over her, she parted her legs further to accommodate him and he took both her hands, lacing his fingers into his and gently laid them by her head as he lined himself up. With a slow, deliberate push forwards he sank into her, and she groaned, her head dropping backwards as he dropped his head slightly, the feel of her around him was almost enough to tip him over right there and then as every single sense in his body was on fire.

He kept his movements slow, not thrusting, rolling, rocking softly into her over and over again, pressing his body to hers. Soft moans and whispers filled the room, his lips by her ears, telling her how good she was, how amazing she felt, how much he loved her, simply lavishing praise upon her, because she fucking deserved it.

Eventually, no matter how hard he was trying to fight it, Frank could feel the ribbons in his belly starting to unravel, the familiar tightening across the base of his abdomen was growing stronger and stronger and he knew he couldn’t hold out for long.

"Lissy..." He half whispered, half gasped into her ear, softly nipping at her pulse point as his hips continued their gentle, deep roll into her "I'm not sure how much longer... are you close baby girl? Please tell me you're close..." She didn't answer with words, instead he felt her tightening around him and he gave another groan as she let out a soft whimper. Then, he heard it, the soft sound of his name, "Frankie.." tumbling from her lips. He nudged her nose with his, making her look at him as she gave a soft moan before she tilted her head back and let out a gentle cry as her back arched, her fingers tightened around his, and she came, her eyes fluttering shut. The sight of her underneath him, giving in to him, coming undone was enough to make him tumble over the edge right after her, gently rutting up into her he felt himself go and his movements became disjointed as he groaned and came with a shudder, utterly blissed and consumed by her.

Both of them lay still, shaking slightly with the afterglow, and Frank pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes locked straight onto hers, his hands still tangled in hers.

Hers.

Because that’s what he was. And she was his.

“I love you.” He’d lost count of how much he’d said that over the course of the day but it didn’t matter, because he did, and he wanted her to know. As she wiggled her hands, he released them, dropping to his elbows as she gently ran the tips of her fingers up his spine and into his hair.

“I love you too.” she replied softly, her eye shining as he leaned down to kiss her.

When they’d recovered, Frank settled them down as he lay on his back, Fliss safely snuggled into him, head on his chest, arm thrown over his stomach, her leg draped over his. He held her close, simply nuzzling into her hair every so often. Eventually he felt her breathing drop slightly and he glanced down to see she’d fallen asleep. He lay awake for another good hour or so simply holding her as he stared into nothingness, occasionally glancing down to make sure she was still ok. He was struggling to switch off, it had been such an intense evening, and no matter how tired he felt physically, his mind was running ten to the dozen going over everything she had told him.

But, then he felt her stir besides him and he looked down at her, her eyelids were fluttering slightly as she was clearly dreaming, but a soft smile spread on her face as she nuzzled further into him, mumbling something incoherent, and that was it. He realised, she wasn’t having nightmares about it, which was something he’d been concerned about. So if she wasn’t, then why should he dwell on it anymore?

It was done, he couldn’t change what she’d been through, but he could damned well make sure she never went through anything like that again.

With a sigh, he gently kissed her head again and settled down against his pillow, finally allowing his mind to close off, and the tiredness catch up with him.

***** Chapter 16

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

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

My Path to You (Slash x Reader)

Pairing: modern!Slash x younger!Reader

Words: 2,300 (OOPS)

Request: anon! : “hi there! i was hoping you could write a modern!Slash imagine where there’s a considerable age gap (whatever you’re comfortable with) and the two of them meet and fall for each other. eventually slash wants to ask the reader out on a date but is super shy and nervous but she says yes and then they go on a date and it can end however you want it to.”

A/N: MY FIRST SLASH REQUEST Y’ALL!! And I do be nervous writing it lmao. This is entirely from Slash’s POV, I’m not sure if people like that kind of thing but it’s a different way to explore writing. There’s a little coffee shop in my area that has a picture of Slash on the wall, so that was inspiration too. Hope y’all enjoy, thank you for the request! 🖤

What now? It was a question Slash asked himself nearly every day, now that he was newly single. That was a new feeling, one he wasn’t expecting now at this stage in his life; wasn’t he supposed to be married and settled and happy and all that shit by this point in his life? He brushed off the notion, after-all who gave a fuck. He wasn’t a conventional guy. Life is as it happens. But he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of getting back out there again intimidated him.

Slash kept to himself in his own world, for the most part. Creating, always with guitar in hand. Especially now being sober, putting himself out there wasn’t exactly appealing. He couldn’t use a dating app, he wasn’t gonna go to a bar or a club, and all of his friends were taken. Where would he possibly meet someone? Dating someone famous wasn’t really what he was looking for, he never fit in with that scene. He wasn’t opposed to dating a fan, but could he ever find someone who wanted him for him?

“Don’t worry, man.” Duff had reassured him. “If it happens, you know, it’ll happen. But not if you’re looking for it. You’ll find her when you least expect it. Just live your life.”

That was smart and Duff was usually right. So, Slash continued to focus on his craft. And he tried to change his outlook, very literally. One night, he wore a baseball cap pulled low and his hair tied back and tucked away in his jacket and hoped it was enough not to get swarmed as he headed out to an art walk in the more historical art district near downtown.

If anyone recognized him, they let him be as he walked down the cobblestone sidewalk, taking in all the creations. The more art and sculptures he admired, the more he stopped worrying about getting recognized.

He was admiring two pieces of wood burned art, a set featuring an artistic interpretation of a woman’s silhouette body.

“These are really sweet.” Slash complimented the artist, who gave a gracious nod.

“Thanks, man. Those pieces have had a lot of eyes on them tonight, thankfully.”

“How much for ‘em?” Slash asked.

“$65 each.” The artist replied, almost sounding sheepish. “...Maybe that’s why they haven’t sold yet.”

“I bet they took a lot of time.” Slash assured him. He pulled out his wallet, fishing out two hundred-dollar bills. “Don’t let people make you second-guess your work.” He passed him the bills, to which the man’s eyes widened.

“Uh, I’m-I’m not sure if I have the enough change.” He said, hastily digging through his small stack of cash from prior purchases.

“It’s cool.” Slash said, smiling and extending his hand. “Thanks again, man.” They shook hands before Slash picked up the two pieces of wood, already trying to picture the perfect spot in his house.

“Okay, I’m back! I’ve got it!” Slash heard someone breathlessly calling behind him. It was a younger woman clasping a wad of cash in her hands as she ran up to the man Slash had just left. “Dipped into my savings but...”

The wood carver gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, they just sold.” Slash watched literal heartbreak wash over her eyes before they flickered right over to him. The dismay in her gaze, the way her shoulders slumped and deflated nearly made his own heart break.

“Oh...damn.” She muttered, tucking the cash back in her pocket. “I really liked them. Oh well. Thanks, anyways.” She said politely. She sent one last glance towards the pieces of art in his arms before she turned on her heel and walked away, head down.

“Hey!” Suddenly, Slash found himself hurrying after her. She stopped in her tracks and turned, her eyes now displaying curiosity.

Uh, what now? He asked himself in his head once he found himself face to face. Up close, she was even more striking, he realized. Beautiful, he’d never seen a face like hers. So expressive, so vivid, so alive with emotions. Her hair framed her face perfectly, her clothes complimented her body well and seemed to be a representation of the woman she was. And he liked everything about what he could see.

“Uh,” he chuckled nervously, looking down. “I, uh, I overheard you had your eye on these.” He said, raising the pieces of art.

“Yeah. I come here to this event every month. I’ve seen those two every time and I’ve been trying to save up. This month I would’ve had enough, but bills—you know.” She rolled her eyes and sighed a little. “Anyway, I saw them tonight and I just couldn’t bear to wait another month or risk them finally being sold, so I ran back to the ATM down the street and pulled out of my savings, not that I really had a lot in there to begin with...” she paused as though she had said too much, shaking her head, flustered. “Sorry. Uh, but I mean, I’m happy for you. Just, take care of them for me.” She chuckled, but her eyes were still stuck on the art.

“I’ll do a trade with you.” Slash proposed. His nerves were playing tricks on him, making him more outgoing than he normally was and then wanting to take it back as soon as he spoke.

“Um, what kinda trade?” She asked curiously. Her nose scrunched a little as she frowned in confusion and he smiled. She was precious. Slash found himself wondering every little detail about her, about the path she had walked in her life so far, and how somehow theirs had crossed.

“I’ll let you have these if you’ll get coffee with me.” Coffee dates, that’s what people did nowadays, right? She blinked a few times at his words and had him wondering.

“That doesn’t seem fair; you paid for those. I’ll pay you for them.”

“No, no. I really don’t need the money.” Slash replied, laughing a little. “How about you keep one and I keep one?”

“...Why?”

“I can tell you really like them.” He said. She bit her lip as she seemed to consider his offer, hesitating.

“And why coffee?”

“I think you’re the prettiest art I’ve seen all afternoon.” Again, her face expressed vivid emotion that most people tried to hide. He watched her lips form a laugh and appreciated the sound.

“I don’t even know your name.” She laughed. He panicked a little in his head. Guess he wasn’t gonna get everything right; it had been a while.

“I guess you can call me Saul.”

“You guess?”

“My friends call me something else.” He mused. A part of him was curious to know if she knew him; lots of people recognized him, not that he was conceited or kept track. Was she a fan? Did she hate his kind of music? Surely, she’d heard of Guns N’ Roses. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” Slash smiled; it was like finding the right spot on a puzzle. It fit perfectly and helped him see even more of the picture. “Y/N, I can tell you really like them. I wouldn’t feel right keeping both; I just stumbled upon them.”

“All the more reason you keep them. They spoke to you, like they spoke to me.” There it was. Her voice, her words, it sent a slight wave through his stomach. That warm, fluttery feeling. He extended out one of the pieces to her insistently.

“All the more reason you keep one too.” She smiled as she took the wood carving.

“Thank you so much.”

“So, would you maybe wanna...?” Again, a part of him panicked. “You don’t have to, you know. You can take your half and be on your way if you’re not interested.”

“No, I’d love to! There’s this little local coffee shop I go to all the time—they display local artists’ work and have live musicians Friday nights and stuff. Do you want my number?”

“Uh, yeah. That’d be cool.” He fumbled with his phone, surprised he had gotten so far. That evening he went home with more than just a piece of artwork and a new perspective. He dialed Duff immediately.

“Hello?”

“I’ve got a date, but I need help.” Duff laughed.

“Are you on that date right now?”

“What? No.”

“Oh okay—it sounded urgent.”

“Well, I’m still freaking out a little.”

“Why?”

“She’s a little younger. But she’s so fucking beautiful, dude. She’s just, I don’t know that much about her, but I want to, you know? From just what little I could see.” Slash sighed a little before he walked Duff through the whole story.

“Did she not recognize you?”

“I don’t think so. But I was wearing a hat and glasses and my hair was tied up.”

“It’s gonna be fine, man. Don’t forget who you are, and that’s one badass talented motherfucker. But also, if nothing else, you can take something from this experience and just gain a new perspective. See the world from someone’s eyes. Don’t overthink any of it. If you guys click, you click.”

Slash realized Duff was right. That’s why he appreciated art. Music, especially. There was so much to be said in something someone created, a story they were trying to tell. Listening was something he did best.

He met Y/N at the local coffee shop, not far from where they had first met. The large pot holders outside were adorned with colored mosaic and he stopped to admire them for a moment.

“Hi, Saul.” He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Y/N was walking up, a bright smile on her face. It was as if his memory were confirmed; yes, she was as beautiful as he remembered the first time.

“Hey, Y/N. This place looks neat.”

“Wait ‘til you try the cold brew. Do you like that?”

“I like those things you get at Starbucks, the caramel things, you know?”

“Caramel macchiatos?” Y/N asked with a laugh. “They have something like that. I’ll order it for you.”

“Okay.” He agreed instantly, smiling at her. “I trust you.” He paid again even though she argued, remembering what she had told him about bills. As they sat down together with their drinks, they broke into what he supposed was small talk, however, it didn’t feel like it. In the meanwhile, Slash couldn’t help but notice the pictures adorning the exposed brick wall behind them. A framed photo of ABBA, The Rolling Stones, Aretha Franklin…and, one of himself, on stage. He laughed a little.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she sipped her drink. He smirked a little, deciding maybe he should come clean.

“I was just looking at the pictures on the wall,” he replied nonchalantly. “Out of all of these people, who do you think is the coolest?”

Y/N turned in her chair, her eyes passing over the pictures.

“The Rolling Stones are cool...Slash is pretty awesome. Probably one of those two.” He smiled when she turned back around. “What?”

“You think I’m pretty awesome?” He asked as he pulled his shades down. Y/N’s eyes widened and she clasped her hand over her mouth.

“I—you! Are you—” he laughed. “So that’s what your friends call you! Oh my god. I didn’t recognize you with your hair pulled back and the glasses are different, and I didn’t know you had the scruff nowadays—it looks good.” She stopped. “I listen to you all the time, this is so...strange.”

“Is it bad?” Slash asked.

“No!” She laughed again. “But...me?” Slash shrugged, smiling as he nudged her shoe with the tip of his converse.

“You seemed pretty chill.”

“Thanks. Most of the time I’m not.” She grinned.

“Neither am I.” She didn’t try to argue or continue to fawn. She didn’t stare at him like he was a Martian. There was reverence in her eyes, surprise, but more so, curiosity.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. It’s kinda like, social media. People only put a small portion of themselves out there, what they want people to see usually. But when everybody knows who you are, they still only know one part of you. And they think they know everything. But here I am...getting a divorce. I’m a dad. I’m just trying to figure shit out like everyone else. Experience life.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He laid all of it out on the table, after-all, he couldn’t hide any of those facts if he were looking for an honest partner.

“When it comes down to it, that’s what matters, right?” She mused with him. “Experiences. Not getting it right. Who decides what’s right anyways? I’d rather say I really lived.” It was those words that really stuck with him. It had him thinking, it had him yearning, it had him daydreaming.

It had him asking to see her again.

Slash called Duff before he even made it home.

“Hey, man, how’d it go? How’d she take it when you told her?”

“Good, she really is just the most chill chick ever. She knew who I was, she just didn’t recognize me. But she’s so cool, she’s got all these thoughts, all these opinions that really get me thinking, you know? I can’t wait to pick up my guitar, man, like, I’m that inspired right now.” Duff laughed.

“So, are you gonna see her again?”

“Yeah. That’s the other thing.” Slash paused. “I invited her over for dinner next week.”

“Oh. Right on; good for you, man!”

“But I don’t know how to cook.” Duff was silent for a moment before he laughed.

“Okay...well. I can help.”

#slash gnr imagine #slash gnr #saul hudson #saul hudson imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr imagine #gnr #slash x reader #80s imagines #classic rock imagine

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imaginingsoftly · 3 years

Text

Wedding Date Pt. 2 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, asshole exes

A/N: Hey guys! I know I said these installments were going to come out on Thursdays, but I feel like my fellow Americans currently losing their shit could use a distraction. Remember that it’s out of our hands at the moment, and you deserve to take a break from the news coverage. Breathe. We’ll get through this. I love you all.

Tyler hadn’t asked any questions about Melissa’s sudden disappearance from the brunch after she woke up grumpy and disoriented before the rehearsal dinner, and she appreciated the hell out of him for it. Instead, he’d brewed her some coffee and talked about his dogs and life in Dallas. Somehow he could tell that she needed some time to not think about anything significant, and he’d given that time to her like it was nothing.

Attending the rehearsal on his arm was almost fun, and he helped get her back to the suite early. Most of the group probably thought they were breaking off to go hook up, but that was fine as long as Melissa could get into her bed faster. He’d walked her all the way to her bedroom, despite her laughter that she could walk across the living space by herself, and she’d smiled that night as she fell back to sleep.

Now they were getting ready for their respective roles in the wedding, Tyler as a guest/ wrangler of the middle-aged relatives, Melissa as the Maid-of-Honor. Tyler grinned appreciatively as Melissa handed him a cup of freshly-brewed coffee, and she turned back to the french press to make herself a cup when her phone began to ring. It was probably Kirsten freaking out about something, even though the wedding was a good 8 hours away. “Tyler, could you get that for me?” He could handle his cousin just as well as she would have, and hearing Tyler answer Melissa’s phone might put Kirsten in a good mood.

“Hello?” Tyler’s voice, gravelly from sleep, sent a shiver up Melissa’s spine. Hearing that first thing in the morning was something she would be interested in getting used to. She snuck a glance over at Tyler to see him already looking at her, smirking like he knew what was going through her head.

“Who the fuck are you?” The familiar voice, dripping in attitude and disgust, sent another sort of shiver down Melissa’s spine. Her ex, and not the hipster beer guy.

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Tyler looked at Melissa confusedly as she spoke, and she shook her head. Later, she tried to tell him with her eyes. He understood, and Melissa took the outstretched phone. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a second Melissa thought that maybe Liam had hung up. “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with someone else. This won’t look good to my parents, Melissa. It’s time to come home. Stop throwing fits.” Tyler threw a sharp look at her, like he actually believed what Liam was saying, and Melissa had enough.

“I am not your goddamn girlfriend, Liam, so stop acting like I am.” He tried to interrupt her, like he always did, but she cut him off. “No. I’m not fucking finished. I love my job, I love my friends, and I love my freedom. I’m not interested in being some rich fucker’s trophy wife and I’m definitely not interested in being yours. Leave me the fuck alone before I get a restraining order.” She hung up before he could get another word in, throwing her phone on the counter in anger. “Motherfucker!”

The timer for the french press went off, and Melissa prepped her coffee with jerky, angry movements. She could sense Tyler staring at her from his seat on the counter, but she ignored him as she continued to mutter curses under her breath. She should have blocked his number a long time ago, but she didn’t trust him not to just get a new one in order to reach out to her. At least this way she had proof of his continued calls and texts in one spot.

Tyler’s voice broke through Melissa’s cloud of anger, and she actually jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice. “Bad breakup?” Melissa scoffed. He had no idea. “Well,” Tyler said with a bit of a laugh in his voice, “I can tell you one thing.” He waited until she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised, before he continued. “I’d be honored to have you as my trophy wife.” No he did not. Melissa gaped at him, more shocked he had made a joke about the conversation than about the actual comment.

She didn’t really think, she just reacted. Tyler laughed as Melissa’s coffee spoon came flying in his direction, and he caught the utensil with ease. Her heart felt light, lighter than it usually did after phone calls from Liam, and Melissa found herself smiling back. “Hipster beer guy wasn’t my most recent ex. He was actually a guy from college, so a while ago.” Tyler nodded, and she noticed that he leaned forward like he was interested in the story she was about to tell. “I dated Liam for about 6 months last year. We met at a dinner for the university that I work at, some charity thing where the donors get to come and make sure we know that they pay our salaries.” Tyler cringed, and Melissa was sure he at least kind of understood where she was coming from.

“Liam didn’t seem like the other donors. He’d gone to the dinner in place of his parents, and we talked for a couple of hours. He seemed sweet.” She didn’t see the red flags that she normally would have, mostly because he looked so friendly. Apparently being raised by rich and heartless parents taught you some pretty impressive false empathy skills. She wasn’t wholly convinced he actually felt empathy at all, actually. “We started dating, and it just felt easy. We were both so busy that we hardly saw each other, and I told myself I liked that. I realized later that I didn’t like the distance from a partner, I just liked the distance from him.”

“One night like a week before we hit the 6 month mark Liam invited me to dinner with his parents. I hadn’t met them yet, because apparently they were super busy running their empire, so I was pretty nervous. Liam is a pretty driven guy, and I had assumed he got it from his parents. The dinner went wrong from the beginning.” Melissa paused as Tyler patted the space on the counter next to him. She hopped up gratefully, and he squeezed the shoulder closest to him.

“Just wanted you to be comfy. I have a feeling this next part is going to be a doozy.”

Melissa laughed at Tyler’s choice of phrasing, though she nodded because he was correct. It was a doozy for sure. “You have no idea. So we get there, and I’m immediately othered when everyone shows up in cocktail dresses and suits and I’m over there in my teaching pants and a blazer. His mother looked like she had just sucked on a lemon when I walked into the room, and she glared down at my hand when I introduced myself like I was going to give her some kind of disease.” That wasn’t even half of it. She’d also made some snide comments under her breath about where the clothing had come from, though Tyler didn’t really need to hear that detail.

“We finally sat down for dinner after some of the most uncomfortable cocktail conversation I’ve ever had, and then I make a giant mistake. I mention my job.” Tyler reacts perfectly, throwing a hand over his heart and fake gasping. Melissa chuckled a bit. “Yeah, exactly. So his mom gets this horrified look on her face, and turns to Liam and says, ‘she will not be working once you’re engaged, correct?’ I tried to respectfully state that I love my job, and I planned on working for the foreseeable future, but she wouldn’t take that for an answer. She kept insisting that I couldn’t work if we were going to be together, and Liam wouldn’t back me up. At one point he turned to me and said, ‘you know, I make more in a day than you do in an entire month. I can take care of you.’”

Tyler’s face looked disgusted for her, and Melissa felt a twinge of satisfaction that at least he was on her side. “I lost my damn mind. I stood up from the table and said that if the expectation was that I would be a brainless trophy wife with no ambition or intelligence then I was uninterested in continuing our relationship, and I stormed out. I’ve been trying to get Liam to realize that no means no ever since.” Melissa downed the rest of her coffee, suddenly in need of at least three more cups.

She was halfway through making a second cup when Tyler responded again. “Isn’t one of your areas of expertise gender and stuff?” Melissa whipped around, surprised he had remembered. She nodded, and Tyler let out a scoff. “So they were pushing some idea from the 50s on you when your area of study is literally everything against that?” Melissa laughed. At least someone else understood the irony there.

A knock sounded on the door to the suite before Melissa could respond. Tyler jumped off the counter before she could move to the door, and she admired the view from behind as he walked away from her. “Morning, cousin!” Kirsten flew through the door, sliding across the room and into Melissa’s arms with a laugh. “I’m getting married today!” The pair laughed, and Melissa hugged her friend close as she felt some tears prick her eyes. They’d been through a lot together since their days as college roommates, and today felt almost surreal.

Kirsten pulled back with a slight frown. “Why do you look like you want to punch something?” Melissa tried to school her face into one of confusion, but her friend knew her too well for that. “Don’t bullshit me. Why the hell do you look so pissed?”

She didn’t get a chance to make something up. “Liam called her.” Melissa turned to glare at Tyler from where he was sitting on the counter again. “He was an ass, but she handled him really well. It was kinda hot actually.” He winked at Melissa, and she flushed bright red. He had that effect on her, and it was kind of aggravating.

“He still seems to think we’re still dating. I told him a restraining order was in the cards if he didn’t kindly fuck off.” Kirsten held up a hand for a high five, and Melissa slapped it gratefully. She had stayed in Kirsten’s guest bedroom for almost a month after that breakup because Liam kept showing up at her apartment. He stayed away from the house because John was a hell of a lot bigger than him, and John and Kirsten had been lifesavers as she tried to get over their relationship ending.

Kirsten looped an arm through Melissa’s and began pulling her out the door, despite the fact that the latter girl was barefoot. Melissa managed to snag a pair of flip flops on their way out, though she couldn’t get them on her feet. “Ty I’m stealing your girl for a bestie breakfast, try not to miss her too much!” Melissa stiffened at her words. Maybe they’d been acting too well. She looked over her shoulder to mouth an apology at Tyler, her face bright red, only to find him smirking in her direction already. They were still staring each other down when the door slammed shut behind her. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Lissy.”

She couldn’t keep pretending like this. “Kirs, it’s not like that.” If she wasn’t careful, Kirsten would be planning her and Tyler’s wedding by the time the night was over. Kirsten meant well, she really did, but sometimes she really just needed to chill out. “We get along really well. We’ve had a lot of time to talk, and it’s been fun. That’s all.” It was obvious that Kirsten disagreed, but she relented as they reached the patio where the brunch had been held the day prior.

The tables were no longer set up to make one giant table, like they had been the night before. Instead it was an open area where several groups were eating, none part of the wedding party. Kirsten pulled Melissa over to a table set up for two in one corner of the patio. It was next to the vine and flower-covered wall she’d noticed the day before, and she leaned in slightly to sniff at the flowers brightening the space.

“So,” Kirsten said with an air of mischief, “you and my cousin.” Melissa opened her mouth to protest again, but her friend cut her off. “Uh-uh. Nope. I saw the looks he was giving you, and you turned bright red every time you two made eye contact.” She was right, and they both knew it. Kirsten looked smug when Melissa didn’t try to disagree. “Listen. You’re moving to Dallas in a month. Why not hook up with him? See if he’s worth keeping around, and then have some fun. You don’t have to do the whole relationship thing babe, and you deserve to have someone appreciate your body.”

A server came to take their order, and Melissa gratefully ordered another cup of coffee and some pancakes. “I think you’re reading it all wrong, Kirs. He’s just being nice.” The looks that he kept giving her, full of heat and interest, said otherwise, but there was no way he was really interested in her outside of a hookup. Although, would that really be so bad? Kirsten scoffed at her statement, and Melissa jumped in before she could say anything. “I don’t know if I really want to hook up with anyone this weekend, Kirs. If it happens it happens, but I’m not going to push it.”

Her friend shrugged, though her face said she completely disagreed. “Well if you aren’t going to let me find someone to match you with, at least tell me you found a place in Dallas.” Their food arrived, and Melissa took a happy bite of her pancakes. They smelled heavenly, and tasted even better. “You were going to buy a house, right?”

Melissa nodded. “Originally I had planned on a house, maybe just outside the city, but I fell in love with this townhouse right off of Main Street. It has three bedrooms, so right around the size I wanted, and there’s so much natural light. Plus, there’s a rooftop deck with a beautiful view of the city.” This place was going to be her new investment. She was fortunate enough to have gotten a lot of scholarships and grants to do her schooling with, and professorial pay allowed her to pay off those loans rather quickly. That meant that she could start saving for a down payment on her own place and a new start in Dallas.

She took another bite of her pancakes while Kirsten contemplated what she was saying. “I’m really happy for you, Lissy. You deserve this.” They grinned at each other, and then Kristen broke down into giggles. “Look at us! You’re a badass in your field that got job offers from like half the universities in the country, and I’m marrying my soulmate. We’re killing this whole life thing.” Melissa chuckled as she nodded at her friend’s words.

“It wasn’t half of the universities in the country, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Kirsten waved a hand in a ‘whatever’ kind of way, and conversation moved to people-watching and bets over who would leave with whom tonight or how long it would take for John to tear up.

#tyler seguin imagine #wedding date ml #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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diegosclownshoes · 4 years

Text

more s2 progress! the agent and elliott talk and five brings back diego and lila. this part’s around 3.3k since I wanted to really get the ball rolling on the storyline, and I also really wanted to finally bring in diego, who’s my absolute fav lol

The agent turns away from Elliott and looks back at the spot where the boy had just stood. She puffs out her cheeks before pushing out a loud breath of air in exasperation. Elliott speaks up first.

“So I take it he’s... also from the future?”

The agent sighs. Honestly, she hadn’t thought this far ahead, about what would happen once her mission actually began. If she’s being completely honest with herself, a part of her believed it would never happen.When she’d told Elliott the truth about herself, that she was one of multiple children all spontaneously born on the same day, with superpowers, sent from the year 2007 on an unknown mission, she’d been more concerned with whether or not he would believe her. He’d accepted the explanation easily enough, and it hadn’t come up again after that.

“I think,” she begins slowly, “I think he, and the rest of what, his family? He called them that. I think it’s safe to say that they’re all from the future. But I have no idea what year. And I have no idea what they’re here for either. Because telling me would have been far too much.” She feels herself getting more and more angry as the words leave her mouth. “The only thing I know is that I was supposed to wait for them here, and then once he shows up, keep him safe. I don’t even know from what and I don’t know why. Hell I didn’t even know he’d turn up three years later.”

She knows she hadn’t exactly been The Handler’s favorite, and doesn’t blame her for it completely. Maybe it’s because she can still remember her parents, still remembers her mother’s voice as she sang softly to her each night, the amber of her perfume enveloping her as she drifted to sleep. Maybe it’s because she could never truly see The Handler as a parental figure; if anything she was more of a teacher, especially given the hours of training that made up the majority of the extent of their relationship. And while Lila happily called her mum, the agent, even as a child, would call her The Handler in a quick, clipped tone. She feels an odd mix of guilt in her stomach when she remembers the times The Handler would pull both her and Lila close, saying how proud she was of her daughters, regardless of the agent’s own coolness towards her.

Still, she thinks, abandoning her in a completely different time, stressing the importance of this mission, and then not giving her any direction, leaving her to wait in a constant state of anticipation eating at her is a little much. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to say goodbye to Lila, who no matter the peculiarity of their relationship, was still a sister to her. The Handler had insisted that Lila would join her on the mission soon, before she was sent through time with nothing but the clothes on her back and the photograph in her hand.

The agent’s pulled out of her reverie when Elliott speaks again. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, stepping closer and placing a warm, sturdy hand on her shoulder. “I know we’ve been pulling up empty, for years, but hey, this is a major step forward. This means it’s actually something. You don’t have to wait anymore, this is actually going to begin. And I’ll be right here too.”

The agent swallows hard. The emotions she’s been forcing down the past few years have caught up, and between the feelings of disorientation, anger, and insignificance that now bubble up in her chest, combined with Elliott’s reassurance, she doesn’t know what to say and doesn’t dare try. She blinks away the heat at her eyes and gives him a silent nod, and she’s grateful when he doesn’t try to nudge her into speaking. Instead, he gives her shoulder an extra squeeze in understanding before letting go.

“I’ll make us some coffee, and then we can discuss this when you’re ready.”

The agent sits across from Elliott at the kitchen table, fingers clasped around a mug of steaming coffee, and feels a sense of déja vu. That first night three years ago had them in the same arrangement, though instead of the distrust and trepidation she’d felt as she’d eyed Elliott back then, this time she feels a wave of gratitude. She gives the mug a squeeze, lets her palms feel the burn of the scalding coffee for just a moment before she lets go with a sigh.

“So.

“So.”

Well he’ll be back sooner or later, so we need to get our story straight,” says the agent, feeling much more in control of herself than she had before. “We already know he has powers, and it’s safe to assume the rest of his family does as well. Strange how he didn’t make any attempt to hide it though. He just zoomed around the place, pretty casually too.”

Well,” says Elliot, “He did also mention saving the world. Maybe whatever happens is worth letting a couple strangers in on his not-so-secret-powers.” The agent nods in agreement. “We definitely need to ask him about that too, he said he only has ten days? How does he know that?”

“I think being from the future kinda gave him a clue,” the agent replies drily. “Hm, but if it’s only ten days away he can’t have been born at the same time I was. That was 1989.” She frowns.” Wait, if the world ends in 1963 then how was I born?” Her eyes widen. “Do you think something from the future accidentally got sent back here? Whatever it is that’s gonna end the world? Like a Godzilla egg that got smuggled over or something?”

Elliott’s brows shoot up as he leans forwards across the table. “Could be. Do you think that’s why he was saying all that stuff about Area 51? Because it’s actually relevant to this end of the world business? Shit, there probably is some weird alien creature that’s going to doom us all. Think we bought enough groceries? Should we go stock up on some more?” He asks almost frantically.

“No,” the agent says quickly, “No, hold on, we don’t know for sure what it is yet. I think for now we should wait for him to come back, and then we’ll give him the rest of the info that we have on his family. At least then we can get an explanation out of them.” Elliot nods firmly.

“Agreed. I’ll get everything together in the meanwhile. And hey, we’re not going to bring up your own little skill now either are we?“ The agent quickly shakes her head.

“No, not until we know what the rest of them can do, and not until they actually tell us just what the hell is going on. We don’t even know what they’re here for yet either.”

”Well then, let’s get to work.”

They don’t see the boy again until the next morning. The agent finds herself awake earlier than usual, and a look out the window tells her it’s before sunrise. Groaning, she pulls herself up, splashes some cold water on her face, slowly gets dressed, and makes her way into the kitchen. She and Elliott have yet to splurge on an espresso machine, but they have a battered little Moka pot which works well enough for now. She’s just set it up on the stove top and is about to run down to grab the day’s paper in the few minutes it’ll take for the coffee to brew, when she sees a shadow flit across the wall behind the stove. She turns around with a startle and upon spotting the boy from the day before, lets out a sigh that’s somewhere between relief and annoyance.

“You know you’re gonna have to either learn to use the door like a normal person or make some noise when you’re lurking around in here like a little creep.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, scowling as he, in turn, looks the least bit bothered.

“Well, this way’s just faster, wouldn’t you agree?” He eyes her for a moment before catching sight of the pot on the stove. The agent follows his line of sight before turning back to pull the coffee off the stove. She has a feeling she’s going to need it extra more than usual today. Wordlessly, she pours out two cups and means to carry them out to the table when he once again blinks over to right in front of her, takes a mug from her hand and lifts it up slightly in a silent (and what she feels is also mildly sarcastic) thank you. She scowls when she sees he’s once again taken her mug, but doesn’t have the energy to fight him on it.

Instead she says, “That’ll stunt your growth, you know. Can’t have that, now can we.”

“Speaking from experience?” He shoots back. The agent rolls her and takes herself over to the open area of their study-cum-living room, before perching on the arm of the sofa, the only clear place to sit on it as it’s still covered in piles of papers and cardboard boxes from Elliott’s search yesterday.

Speaking of Elliott, the man himself walks in right at the moment already dressed for the day. He spots the boy drinking coffee, leaning up against the arched entryway, and, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary, and schoolboys stealing their coffee is regular occurrence, pulls a carton of milk out of the fridge before pouring himself a bowl of cereal. The agent can’t lie, it’s not the strangest morning she’s had.

She watches as the boy pushes himself off the wall and slowly walks over to inspect the room. He stops and looks over one of the cork boards they have set up, photographs and video stills pinned to every available inch of its surface. Elliott trails after him, eating his cereal as he walks.

“Elliott, did you develop these photos yourself?”

“Of course. Can't exactly drop that stuff off at the neighborhood Fotomat. Government's got eyes everywhere." He takes another spoonful of cereal.

"I didn't see a darkroom."

"We converted the hallway closet,” the agent explains. She watches the boy pull a small yellow film box out of his pocket, then frowns when she sees him grab a pen off one of the tables and scribble something over the back of the box.

“Can you develop this?” He asks Elliott, but before the man has a chance to respond the agent’s on her feet and snatching the box out of his hand. She frowns.

“Why’d you scratch over the date?”

“The date’s irrelevant,” he shoots back shortly.

“Okay, well, if it’s so irrelevant why don’t you want us to know what it is?” She quickly pulls the box behind her back when he makes a grab for it. She quirks a brow, but before she can say anything the box is pulled out of her grip.

“Hey!” she protests and whips around to see the boy holding the box. “If you don’t stop doing that we’re gonna have a problem.” She glares.

“Oh, I think we already have a problem,” he scoffs, before Elliott plucks the box out his hand and flips it around, munching thoughtfully.

“‘Frankel Footage,’” he reads. “Friends of yours?”

The boy sighs. “Look, can you do it or not?”

“Sure I can.”

“How long?”

“Well, I mean, I’m running low on acetic acid. Beeker’s Camera’s is open today, but it’s two miles away. I mean, I’d have to take the bu-”

“It’s five hours, give or take,” the agent says, cutting him short. She knows when Elliott’s going to go off on a tangent annoyingly well by now. She’s about to again ask him why he’s hiding the date on the footage from them, before a crackling on the (stolen) police scanner interrupts.

“Attention all units, we have a code 3-15 at the Holbrook Sanitarium,” a man's voice says over the radio.

“The hell is a code 3-15?”

“Fugitives on the run,” Elliott explains.

The radio man's voice continues. "Twenty five patients still at large.” The trio make their way closer to the radio, the agent reaching over to quickly fiddle with it until the voice comes across more clearly “Many are considered armed and dangerous."

“Oh, Diego,” the boy whispers.

“You said that name yesterday, too,” the agent points out. “Who is he?”

“Imagine Batman,” he puts his hand out flat, then lowers it considerably, “Then aim lower.” The agent snorts, quickly covering it with a cough.

The indistinct radio chatter continues as the boy continues. “You get started on that film, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Before either of them can ask just where he’s going, he’s once again gone with a blip.

“Is it too soon to be getting sick of that already?”

The agent sits in the middle of a pile of newspapers. Elliott was finishing up on the Frankel Footage, and she’d spent that morning trying to piece together just where the rest of the strangers in the alley were now located. Diego, the only one whose name she was now familiar with, was arrested and placed in the Holbrook Sanitorium, the same place with the mass fugitive escape that morning. The next two were easy to pin down; the first was one Allison Chestnut, a prominent civil rights activist, and the second was simply known as Klaus, leader of one of the largest cults that she’d heard of. The last two, the insanely huge man, and the small woman in white, were much harder to track down. In fact, she couldn’t even find anything on the woman, but the man was a bouncer at a nightclub owned by Jack Ruby. That couldn’t be good.

She’s just finished writing down the relevant information on a slip of paper when she hears the door click open as Elliott enters. She watches as he begins to set up the now-developed film. He catches her gaze and beckons her over before heading over to close the curtains

“Now let’s see what we’ve got here,” he says. The agent nods, and then the footage rolls to a start.

It opens to an elderly couple struggling to determine whether or not their camera is on before it begins to make some sense.

“I'm Dan Frankel, and-"

"I'm Edna Frankel."

"Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas to see the president. Today's date is November 22, 1963"

"That’s six days from now!” Elliot says incredulously.

“Shit,” says the agent, as realization dawns on her. “Shit, I know what this is.” Elliott gives her a puzzled look.

“What? What is it?” Before she has a chance to reply, the sound of gunshots and screams break out through the film. Dan Frankel’s voice can be heard exclaiming, oh my God! The president!

Elliott’s face pales and he immediately turns to look at the agent. “What the hell was that? What the hell was that?” He gets up in a panic and as the agent rises to meet him he takes a stumbled step backwards. “You knew about this? You said you knew that what, that the president is going to be assassinated in six days?”

“Elliott, listen to me.” She holds her hands up placatingly. '' Yes, the president was- or, is going to be, assassinated and I knew that it happens but you’ve gotta understand. I mean just consider the years of history that happen afterwards. That was nearly 45 years ago in history for me! You can’t expect me to have remembered that And okay, I know about, so then what? What are we supposed to do about it? If we tell someone, the cops, anyone, they’ll think we’re threatening them. And even if we do something about this, and we manage to stop it, then are we just supposed to try to stop every single bad world event that we can? What happens then?” She finds herself out of breath as her words stumble to a stop and breathes in sharply.

“I-,” Elliott opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens it again. “Look, I know you’re not a bad person, or a spy or anything like that, but you can’t expect me to not be a little skeptical at the moment!”

The agent sighs. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry, But it happens, and it’s not our fault. As bad as it sounds it’s a known historical event that just happens. I know what you’re thinking, but neither I nor that guy and his family are involved in it. It happened before I was born and sent back here, and it looks like it’s going to happen again now. As for the footage, I have no idea how he got that but again, none of us are involved.”

Elliott, still looking conflicted, though less so than moments before, sighs before taking a seat, dropping his head in his hands. “I-” He swallows before looking back up. “I believe you. You’ve been here for what, three years now, and you know how much I know too. You could have killed me for knowing any time. I just. It’s just a big shock.”

“Of course,” she replies immediately. “Of course, I know this is just ridiculous to hear. But I’m on your side here, and once that kid gets back we’ll ask him everything.” Elliott nods wordlessly. “Come one, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

It’s half an hour later when the sound of the front door of the shop opening catches their attention. Not a minute later there’s footsteps coming up the stairs and the agent heads over to check on who’s come. She’s unsurprised to see the boy, next to him a tall man with long, scraggly hair and an unkept beard (she assumes this is Diego, the escaped felon), but the sight of the next person her eyes land on makes her stop dead in her tracks. Lila.

Surprise flits across the agent’s face for only a split second before she schools her expression back into one of neutrality, maybe mild confusion. Lila, who looks considerably older since she’d last seen her, (nearly ten years older if she had to guess) looks unsurprised as well, and doesn’t say anything to her, though she does give her a cursory look

“Who’s this, five?” The man she figures is Diego asks. She scowls.

“Well I’m not sure how good your eyesight is but even then anyone can tell that I’m clearly not five. I’m twenty one, the same as what I’m going to assume your IQ is.”

While Diego looks annoyed, Lila bursts out a laugh and automatically holds up a hand for a high-five. The agent smiles softly and slaps her hand, hoping the gesture didn’t look as familiar as it felt.

The boy gives her an amused look, shaking his head before he says, “Five would be me. Though you’re right about my brother being less than intelligent.” The boy, Five (which, the agent thinks, is a pretty weird name), pointedly ignores Diego’s hey! Of protest. “And come to think of it, you still haven’t introduced yourself either.” He gives her an expectant look.

“Alright then, if you’re Five, you can call me Apeiron.” The smug feeling only lasts a second before Five, without missing a beat, replies.

“Huh. Well, while I can appreciate the use of ancient Greek, the language itself is actually derived from Sanskrit. If you want a truer version of Apeiron, I’d recommend Ananta.” He gives her an infuriatingly smarmy grin.

“From Final Fantasy?” Diego cuts in, confused.

“Final what?” Asks Elliott, then frowns. “Actually never mind, that’s not important. What is important, is just what the hell exactly it is that we saw on that footage and why you had it.”

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves imagine #not me once again copping out of giving the agent a proper name

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ai-martino · 3 years

Text

The sun rises calmly and so the waves. While everyone is brewing coffee I get to walk quickly on the seashore, with the comfort of waves and coffee aroma I am able to find peace. I am still in shock of how my life is going, how I survive everyday, how I endure this heavy heart but God is just so good for giving me such an extra-ordinary strenght. I stepped on the water to feel how refreshing it is while floating with the waves, how I wish I could live like this everyday, far from cruel environment.

All of my colleagues are busy talking about random topics. I silently listen to them and unknowingly giggles with some of their jokes. Giggling is not my typical thing so everytime I do, everyone will surely throw a surprise look. One of my classmates invites me for a sandbar party tonight, though I am not into this kind of stuff but I wanted to try, so I gave her a nod.

After an hour of random talks and coffee, our coordinator Mrs. Punsalan called us to start the retreat, it was an activity hosted by "An Open Door Foundation Inc." a foundation where I am volunteering as an art teacher.

I finished Mass Communication course, its surprisingly ironic to what I really am so I pursue journalism, I focused more on writing, admittedly, I had written various novels and donated all the proceeds to various foundations where I grew up.

Yes! I was a foundling, I grew up without a family. When sister Jelli saw me at the street, I was barefooted, ripped clothes, devastated face, bruises and wounds caused me chills and I almost see heaven that time. So I kinda' hate this kind of activity especially when being asked to think of something most unforgettable.

It doesn't ease me, it hurts me even more.

The retreat is getting into a deep emotions. Some of them are crying while hugging each other, some are yelling for forgiveness I stayed in silence and turn a stare at nowhere. I have no one to apologize to because no one will forgive, I have no one to forgive because no one apologizes, perhaps I cannot cry because I am empty.

I waited for the retreat to be over and everyone to come out. I wanted to leave the room last. No particular reason, I just wanted to be alone. I stayed at the retreat room for a couple of hours and take the opportunity to write.

While enjoying my writing someone bumped on the door. It is really strong that it almost breaks. I hurriedly stood up to see who was bumping.. my eyes almost came out to see a tall-beardy-hunk man in a white sando and a boxer! With a glass of whisky on his hand Holy shit!! He really has a huge balls. I pushed him away , immediately close the door and lean for a second with eyeballs still bulging, I am still in shock with those things. So I take a deep breath before I open the door again to check if he is still there.

*guy murmurs*

In a most decent and prim act I checked on him, wakes him up but gain no response, I slowly grab the glass of whisky from his hand and inspect whether he has a phone or an identity card to know his name, but everytime I turn a look at the bottom I am so bothered of that huge thing! I dunno but some part of my mind is telling me to touch it but I really can't!, the form is quiet scary. I grab his wrist to check his pulse and it seems normal, maybe he just passed out due to excessive alcohol intake.

I can't carry him in, I have been calling Shey my bestfriend but she's not attending calls, there were no telephone at the retreat room and the reception area is quiet far so I left him outside and I think he deserves it, I hope when he wakes up he will learn self-control.

But wait! Ain't that evil as you think, don't worry guys I left the door open so he can get inside if he gain consciousness.

* The guy groans, while crawling inside*

I almost jumped on my feet with that groan! I can see him crawl,he's really crazy, he crawls like a zombie! I hide under the table trying not to look at him and take small steps to escape..

" So, you are leaving again?"

I freeze when he suddenly speaks, he get up from the floor and walk towards me, my toes are trembling as he look at me like a serial killer, his drunk eyes are really scary, he come very close that our nose are almost touching, I can smell the alcohol in his breath that almost caused me to throw out.

With a shaking hands I pushed him away I haven't had a strong muscles to knock him down but a little space is enough to do an escape. He stared at me and he was crying, then he turn back and leads me to the door. I run as fast as I could. I was about to call the police to report him abusive but the appearance of sadness on his face melts my heart; and all that had happen that morning remain a secret.

The breezing touch of sand and waves gradually calm my heart as I convey myself in the seashore. Playing with the sand and scattered seashells are also my hobby. The sun is about to touch the horizon so I sat down to watch the sunset and take a picture.

" I can take you a picture, if you want Ma'am"

A gentle guy offers me a help to catch the beautiful sunset view for a pic. Without a second thought, I agreed.

" Thank you so much......?"

"I'm Nix , a resident photographer of this resort, if you don't mind may I know your name Ma'am?"

" Alodia"

" Nice to meet you Ma'am Alodia"

" You can call me my name, no need to attach "Ma'am" on it, its too formal and it makes me feel old."

His face blushes after saying him such words. I don't intend to offend nor intimidate so I offer him a handshake which he accepts politely.

" A---lodia, Im actually strolling around, looking fo a scenematic view to capture, if you are free, can you join me?"

I don't think i have an idea to refuse, so I join him and we stroll around the resort. he introduced to me every corner of every places of the resort, he's very entertaining that he never allows a single moment to be unuseful.

He handed me his camera and encourage me to try to capture a scene of the setting sun. Im a little shy to try because I don't really have a skill on photography but he seems very persistent that I can't disagree.

It was the first time I had a long conversation with a stranger like being so generous of my laughters and time, I don't know but I am so relieved when I am with him.

We almost didn't notice that its merely dinner, I'm starting to worry because I didn't get to inform Shey and Mrs. Punzalan about what I am doing, since I haven't join them for an activity after the retreat. I bade goodbye to Nix and extend my appreciation of a free tour and entertainment.

He walked me on the way to our Villa, my colleagues are there, preparing for dinner. Shey, run towards me and gave a tight hug. She paused for awhile when she saw Nix behind me, I can see in her eyes that she's concluding a controversial thoughts about me and Nix, so I speak ahead before she was able to tell controversies.

In a very manly manner, Nix offer a handshake to shey and Introduce himself. Shey has a little shyness yet a huge interest with him, ( i can tell because she has that awkward mannerism of curling and flipping her hair everytime she sees a handsome man) well they're a good match.

I left them for awhile and head straight to an outdoor kitchen where the foods are being prepared. Some of my colleagues are murmuring while staring at Shey and Nix

Im a little curios why but I don't bother to ask , instead I reminded them for a sandbar party tonight.

#my writing #thriller #mystery series #stories

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Riding High Ch 15: This Is Me

Chapter Summary: Fliss finally reveals to Frank exactly what happened to her during her marriage.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse and violence. Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW). NO UNDERAGE READERS PLEASE!!!!!!!

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Huge, huge thanks to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @icanfeelastormbrewing and @southerngracela for reading this and making sure it hit the feels and the marks I was aiming for.

As always, if you like and enjoy please comment and Re-Blog. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions!

Chapter Song: Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see. If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

If you asked Fliss how she made it through the rest of the day’s teaching she wouldn’t be able to tell you. Luckily, her last lesson was at 3 which gave her enough time to head home and break the news to her parents.

“Hey Titch…” her dad greeted her as she walked down the steps to the pool area where they were both sat at the table, her dad drinking a coffee, mother pouring over a book. “You’re home early.” “Well my lessons are done so…” she said, shrugging. “I err, I need to talk to you both.”

“What’s wrong?” Verity said, pushing her sunglasses up “You’ve not broken up with Frank have you?” “What? No, no, we’re errr fine…but…” she sat down in the spare chair and looked at her Dad then her Mum before taking a deep breath “I got a call this morning. John’s up for Parole. His hearing is in 6 weeks.”

Her parents reacted exactly the way she had anticipated they would do, in a similar angry manner to her Brother who she had called after speaking to Frank. Bill made an angry growling noise in his throat, slamming his mug on the table whilst Verity dropped her book and her right hand flew to her chest, the other reaching out to grasp at Fliss’ shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie….” “Fucker…” Bill growled, before he shook his head and looked at Fliss “Can you appeal?” “Yeah…” she nodded “But I don’t know…” she took a deep breath “I don’t want to go back into a court room. That’s what he will want, to see me there, again…and…”

“Honey…you have to-“ “No, I don’t” Fliss cut her mother off “Frank’s right, the days of me having to do anything are over. I’m going to speak to Greg Cullen, Frank’s friend who’s an attorney and I’m gonna look my options when the full information comes through and go from there…”

Bill nodded and Fliss didn’t miss the look he shot Verity, silently telling her to leave it. “Sounds sensible.” he said. “So, I take it from that you’ve talked to Frank?”

Fliss nodded, “Lunchtime yeah.”

She fell silent and Bill leaned over and gently squeezed her hand “What is it Titch?”

She looked up at him and licked her lips “He doesn’t know everything, not how bad it got and…” she took another deep breath “I need to tell him, so, we both agreed to sit down and talk tonight but it needed to be done just the two of us…so, I was wondering….” “Of course we’ll have Mary.” Verity nodded

“I did promise to take her to the Shake Shack at some point this week.” Bill agreed “Seems as good a night as any.” Fliss smiled “Frank’s going to explain the basics, she’s too clever not to notice something’s going on but…that’s it, she won’t know any details so…”

“Ok.” Verity nodded, before she took a deep breath and stood up “I made some apple and courgette loaf…you got room for a slice?” “Always room for that!” Fliss grinned “And I wouldn’t say no to a coffee…”

Verity smiled, dropped her hand on Fliss’ shoulder as she stood up and made her way up the steps towards the house. Bill watched her go before he turned to Fliss.

“How are you really feeling?”

“But for what it’s worth…” Bill looked at her “I’m glad you’ve got him. I’ve seen such a change in you since you met him last year, even before you started…” he made a clicking noise with his tongue and winked, causing Fliss to snort and shake her head “he’s a good guy, and as you well know they don’t come around often.” “I know.” she said, chewing her lip “Dad, you don’t think he’ll look at me any different do you, once he knows…” “Fliss, you could probably set fire to a cage full of puppies and he’d still think the sun shone out of your arse…” Bill snorted, waving off her concern.

“Wow, that’s…dark.” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Thought I got too old to sit on your lap years ago” she teased, resting her head against his.

“You’ll never be too old for a Poppa Bill snuggle.” he chuckled, rubbing her back “No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little Titch.” ***** Frank couldn’t be bothered speaking to Evelyn, he had far more pressing things on his mind. So, instead, when he arrived to pick Mary up from school he simply fired her a text message saying he would call later in the week when it was convenient to talk. To his surprise, she replied back almost immediately saying she was glad to hear from him and would Wednesday around 6pm be suitable. His answer was a single word, yes, before he slid his phone back in his pocket and went in to collect Mary.

“Bit of a break in routine tonight.” he said, looking at her “Bill and V are taking you out to dinner, something about the Shake Shack…” “Yesssss!” Mary said, punching the air before she looked at Frank suspiciously “Hang on, why? Did you speak to Evelyn? Has something gone wrong? Did she change her mind?” “No, no nothing like that.” he said, shaking his head “I’ve messaged Evelyn and I’m going to call her on Wednesday to sort things out properly when I can have a good discussion.” “Ok so what’s going on?”

“You know that Fliss’ ex-husband…John, he went to prison right?”

“Yeah.” “Well, he was locked up for doing some bad stuff to Fliss. Like he hurt her, a lot…” “Oh.” Mary frowned “That’s…why would he…” “Because he’s an ass hole.” Frank said simply “The point is Stack, in 6 week or so he’s going to go for something called Parole, you know that that is?” “No” “It’s when a prisoner is considered for early release. If John gets it, it means he will be free, but have to abide by certain rules for a while.” Mary nodded, as they reached the truck.

“Absolutely.” Frank said “But I don’t want you talking to anyone about this ok? It’s private for Fliss. I’m only telling you because you have a right to understand what’s happening.” “I won’t tell anyone.” Mary nodded. “Wait, not even Roberta?” “No, no one. It’s up to Fliss who she tells.”

“But Bill and Verity will know.” “Yes.” Frank said “But I expect they’ll be upset too so…just keep it shut, please.” he ended a little lamely.

“Ok.” Mary nodded.

They both piled in the truck and headed back to their apartment to pick up a few things for Mary, Frank having enough stashed at Fliss’ as it was before they drove over. Frank opened the gate and they drove through to be greeted by Thor who was running up and down the drive chasing Bill’s terrier in some kind of odd game.

“Hey gorgeous.” Frank smiled as he got out of his truck and leaned down to give Fliss a soft kiss “You ok? How did they take it?” “As well as I expected. Mum kept up appearances and then left to go into the kitchen to fetch a drink so she could melt down in private and Dad, well, he was angry but…” she shrugged

“I’ve explained as well as I can to Mary” he said, turning his head to see her running up the drive being followed by the dogs “And I’ve told her not to mention it to anyone.”

“Ok.” Fliss said, her eyes also on the young girl. “Bill said after dinner, if it’s ok with you, he might take her down to the Marina to watch the night trawlers setting out. It fascinates the twins and the guys there are always happy to field their questions so…”

Frank shrugged “Yeah, if she wants. Doesn’t bother me as long as she’s in bed for a semi-reasonable hour.”

Together they made their way into the house where Bill swept Mary up into his arms in a hug as she started chattering to him about some project she was going to be working on for Girl Scouts and after a short conversation Fliss and Frank headed back over to the annex. They made normal conversation, just like they always did as Fliss cooked them a quick, easy dinner of grilled seabass and salad, but there was an atmosphere, like a huge cloud was hanging over them. Which it was. And that the pair of them were trying to ignore it. Which they were. Eventually when the dishes were done, the beer was opened and the wine was poured, they couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Fliss told Frank to head outside and start the fire pit, which he did whilst she disappeared upstairs before returning a little later with a small, blue ring bound book, which she held on her lap as she sat next to him. “I don’t even know where to start.” Fliss said, tucking her legs underneath her on the seat as Frank threw another chunk of wood on the fire “I suppose the beginning is the best place.”

“Usually, yeah…” Frank smiled, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ears as he turned to face her.

“Ok…” she said, swallowing a bit of her wine before she placed it on the table. “Right from the beginning?”

“Whatever you want.” he said gently. “I’ll listen.”

She nodded, and then with a deep breath she began to talk.

“We first met at the Olympics in 2008. It was my first big break…I was only a reserve rider but I was still buzzing you know, swept away in it all.” she smiled softly “John was on the US team, had been for a while and, well, his attention and praise…I guess it flattered me. I saw him again later on that year at the International Championships and then over the next year or so at Badminton, HOYS…that’s the Horse of the Year show.” she explained as Frank gave her a blank look “all the big gigs, but it wasn’t until the World Equestrian Games in 2010 that we hooked up.” Frank smiled at her choice of language as she snorted. “Yup I had a Friday night fuck.”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as she continued.

“I can’t describe being on the road like that, but it’s intense. You’re away for weeks and its …well it’s like a different world. From then on over the next year or so we started emailing and every chance we got be it training or competitions we hooked up. Then In 2011 we basically decided to try and go for it and did the whole long distance thing whilst he was living in the US, me in the UK, and when I won my medal in 2012 he declared how much he loved me and was so proud of me in the press when they did the interviews…”

Frank watched as a slight smile spread across her face, and she bit her lip as she looked back at him, shrugging.

“It was like a fairy tale.” she whispered “I got swept up in it all and then packed up and moved to Boston in the October. That November I had my accident which you know about, and I was in a back brace for 12 weeks and he was amazing.” she shrugged “He proposed to me that December and honestly Frank, he cared and looked after me I just…I don’t know where that John went. Looking back, I often wonder if he had some kind of brain injury that turned him into an asshole.” “Don’t make excuses for him.” Frank said softly “Please…” “I’m not.” she assured him. “I just really don’t understand.” “There’s nothing to understand.” Frank looked at her shaking his head.

“Anyway, by the February in 2013 I was just starting to exercise again. God I was in a bad way. Mentally and physically. Because I’d been immobile I was out of shape, felt fat, ugly, I’d put on a good 2 stone…or…erm… 28 pounds…” she shrugged “But John…well, he didn’t care. Or so I thought. Now I look back on it I think this is where it all started.” She reached for her wine and Frank drained the rest of his beer. He glanced at the bottle and Fliss looked at him.

“Wanna break out the strong stuff?” she asked gently.

“Well, if any situation warrants it, I feel this one does.” He said smiling.

She nodded and uncurled her legs. Frank watched her go, normally he would offer to fetch the drinks but he sensed she needed to move, get away from the intensity for a moment so to speak so he let her go. With a sigh his head fell back, his eyes looking up at the sky which was streaked with red and purples and pinks from the now setting sun. His head was a whirlwind of emotion already and they hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Silently she poured him a good measure and he took it from her with a thanks as she returned to her previous position and Frank shifted slightly to face her, his right hand curled round his drink, his left resting along the back of the garden sofa they were on. She took a sip and then once more launched back into her memories.

“We had a Ball to attend. One that the US team were holding, and I mentioned I had nothing to wear. So, John ordered me something, a beautiful sky blue gown…only it didn’t fit. When I told him and got upset he said it was a genuine mistake and he’d ordered my usual size and apologised and promised to return it…but then suggested maybe I kept it as motivation to lose the weight in time for the ball at the start of May and get into it…”

“He wanted you to lose 28 pound in 2 months?” Frank looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Whilst you were just recovering?”

“I did it.” she shrugged in answer to his question. “I pushed myself, skipped meals…but…” Frank made an annoyed noise in his throat, but other than that made no further comment.

“There were other little things, controlling things he did as well. Like he took over the arrangements for the wedding and governed the first time I got back on a horse, told me when I could go back to work, start the training to become a Coach…all dressed up as the fact he cared and didn’t want me to rush back into things…and then one night in the September, I snapped. There was a trip organised, a conference, for the trainee Coaches intake for that year, and he told me I wasn’t going. So I bit back, and told him that he wasn’t my father and that was the first time he hit me. Straight slap, right across the face.” Frank watched as she took a sip of her drink before she shrugged. “I locked myself in the bathroom, and he sat outside the door for hours, crying, apologising, saying he was sorry, just under a lot of stress and worried about me…begged for forgiveness…pleaded with me not to call off the wedding, and you know the stupid thing? “ she looked at him. “I always, always swore that if a man raised his hand to me, my partner, I’d be done, out of there…but I forgave him, like an idiot. And married him 4 weeks later, just as planned.”

‘From Olympic Rings to Wedding Rings!’ The headline read, and he scanned down, ignoring the blurb on the text, catching the odd phrase such as ‘the stars aligned’ and ‘fairy-tale romance…’ which frankly made him want to puke as there was nothing fairy-tale about it. Eventually he reached a photo and Frank got his first look at the man he hated with every single inch of his body. He was tall, sharp jawed, quite athletic looking. Typically handsome with dark eyes and dark hair. He stood next to Fliss in his black tuxedo, his arm curled around her waist as he smiled at the camera. Fliss looked stunning. Her wedding dress was princess like, clinched in at the waist and flared out in layer upon layer of tulle which was adorned with crystals that caught the light. Her hair was twisted up off her face and she wore some kind of diamond studded headdress. She was smiling but as Frank looked closer he could see her eyes…they didn’t have that sparkle he knew and loved.

“I hated everything about the day.” She said gently. “I wanted a quiet beach wedding, somewhere warm, with a simple dress, close friends, family… maybe a marquee with fairly lights and snack food…”

Frank smiled as what she was describing was so effortlessly her, but the smile slipped from his face as she continued.

“…but he insisted on the full hog. Huge Boston based wedding at a church and then a sit down reception at the Harbor with a party in the evening. But that was John. Always about showing off…even my engagement ring was another way for him to display to the world what he could afford. This huge 6 carat brilliant cut diamond…it was gaudy.”

Frank handed her the phone and she shut the web browser down.

“Sounds so ungrateful doesn’t it.” She snorted “most girls would kill for a day like that”

“Most girls don’t have a guy controlling their every move” he said gently. “It’s not ungrateful at all. A wedding day should be about both people, well, so I’ve heard.”

“It was a circus.” She shrugged “there were people there whose names I didn’t even know. I didn’t want the magazines there either but he talked me round, saying that if we didn’t let them in they’d simply use unofficial photos and…well, anyway that was that.”

Frank reached over and took the empty glass off her and topped both the tumblers up, glad of the momentary distraction. As he handed her back to her she smiled and took a sip.

Frank took a sharp breath, and swallowed a mouthful of scotch.

“Once again he was sorry…and then it kinda went like that for the most. He’d go weeks without hitting me and then he’d flip and wham. A slap here and there…”

The flippancy with which she was describing it, like it was just something that was normal,that just happened was beginning to make Frank’s blood boil. He tried not to show outwardly what he was feeling inside, but he clearly had as Fliss reached along the back of the seat to tangle her fingers into his. He gave her hand a squeeze as she continued to talk.

“That April I was scheduled for a big competitive comeback with Team GB. I had my sponsors lined up, it was being touted on the circuit as Gallagher’s Return to Glory… press interviews, and everything….you name it. And then- “ “Hang on, Gallagher?” Frank cut her off. “Did you not change your name?” Fliss shook her head “Nope“ she studied him for a moment, smiling. “You look surprised.” “I am.” he said, “Given how controlling he was, I expected him to want you to change it.”

“I didn’t want to. It made sense for me to keep my name, it was all about the brand, see.” she shrugged “John, surprisingly wasn’t all that bothered.” she took a sip of her drink. “Anyway, that aside…the comeback was arranged and 4 weeks before I was due to fly home he told me I wasn’t going. I said he couldn’t stop me. I guess he took that as a challenge as he grabbed me by the hair and shoved my hand in the doorframe of the kitchen. Slammed it shut 4 times. Broke 3 of my fingers and dislocated my wrist. So I missed out. And I never competed again, well not professionally anyway.”

“Fuck…” Frank’s face screwed up as he shook his head “Lissy…” He trailed off as her fingers tightened around his, and he brought her hand up to softly kiss over her knuckles, almost as if doing so would take away the pain of that injury, the injury that was long healed but had left scars deep on her soul, deeper than any physical scars could go.

“That’s when it started escalating and I ended up in hospital with a broken nose in the April, that was the result of an argument about me going out, a fractured arm in the July that was because I’d dared to refuse to have sex with him in the car outside the fucking store and 2 broken ribs in the October which was a result of me saying I didn’t want to host a Halloween party. A doctor at the hospital who had been looking at my records started asking questions…gave me a leaflet on Domestic Violence which, obviously I refused to take. But then, that Christmas when he insisted on spending it alone and not with my family, I dunno why but I called one of the numbers, anonymously. Started looking into it a bit more…looked into it on the internet…and that’s where I got the idea to keep a diary. Document it…in case I did ever want to leave…”

She nodded to the book she had brought with her which now rested on the table and Frank looked at it, before he turned back to her.

“You know, to many people it’s so black and white. Mum and dad were begging me to leave him but I brushed it off. I lied to my own parents, told them they’d been work accidents and that I was fine. That’s what it turns you into, a liar, but…I loved him. Well, I thought I did. Now…well, looking back it was more fear than anything. He’d spent so long telling me that if I left I’d be nothing that he’d find me…I believed him, so convinced myself it was easier to stay.”

She moved, placing her tumbler on the table and reached for the book and handed it to him.

“The rest is in there…” she said softly as he too set his glass down and took the book from her gently and he was surprised to see his hands were shaking slightly. “Apparently they say over time you recall bad memories easier than good ones, and that you can also distort them, make them worse than they actually were so I stuck to facts. It’s pretty impersonal but…well…” Frank looked at the cover before he looked back at her and she nodded. With a swallow he shifted slightly, opening it.

Burnt me with a cigarette on my right hip because I burnt dinner.

February 17th. Grabbed my hair and banged my face into the wall because I refused sex in the living room whilst guests were in the garden for the Spring Party.

March 21st. Whipped me with a belt after a guy was chatting me up in a bar. Drew blood.

March 22nd. Violent sex to remind me I was his.

“Violent…” Frank stopped reading and looked at her, his voice sticking in his throat “He raped you?” Fliss took a breath “I never actually told him no but he was rough. Left a lot of bruises but…well, it was easier just to let him get on with it…” she shrugged.

“Fucking hell Lissy…” Frank shook his head “This…that is not…” “I know.” she soothed him softly. “I know.”

April 13th. Choked me whilst I was in the bath. Held me underwater to the point I almost stopped breathing. Stopped when Loki bit him.

April 14th. Loki dead. John said he poisoned him as a lesson to show that he was a guard dog for the house not me.

“He almost killed you…” Frank said, looking up at her, this time he couldn’t hide his emotions, he felt his eyes swimming and he looked away. Fliss gently took his hand again and she nodded as he looked back up at her.

“The day after he killed Loki was when I took the overdose.” she said gently. “That day when he’d choked me, as I was slipping under, I felt nothing but peace, this overwhelming sense of serenity…so, seeing a way out…” she took a deep breath. “That was the point at which Bill, Mum and Steve started to get really concerned, but he managed to convince them, the doctors, me that I was depressed, that it all stemmed from my accident. I don’t think my family really believed him, not fully, but what could they do?”

At that point she sniffed and Frank saw the tears form in her eyes “I put them through so much and…”

“Stop, stop…” he said, his voice cracking as he tossed the book aside and pulled her to him. She melted into his embrace, her face pressing into his chest as he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head “None of this was your fault, none of it…” She stayed still, her shoulders shaking slightly as he simply held her close, blinking back his own tears as they sat there for a moment before she pulled back.

“The rest of it is much the same.” she said gently “Although he eased off a bit and convinced me that trying for a baby would solved all our issues. So I went with it. Each month it failed he’d punish me when I got my period, but you know that bit anyway and…the other big stuff you know about.”

Frank gently reached out and wiped her tears away with his thumbs as she smiled at him sadly.

“I found out I was pregnant in the January in 2016 and that, well that was the moment I decided I needed to get out. I couldn’t bring a baby into that…” she said, her eyes swimming. “I feel so guilty about that you know, that I got rid of it. It wasn’t the baby’s fault but…being tied to him for ever, I just…I couldn’t. I know that’s selfish but…”

“No, it’s not selfish.” Frank said, her face held in his hands as he looked at her, driving his words home “You got nothing to feel guilty about, you got that? Nothing.”

“It’s ok…” she gently laughed at the dog, stroking his head.

She swallowed “And then, something in me snapped, like really snapped. Told him he was an ass hole, that what he was doing wasn’t normal and I told him all about the baby as well, how I’d gotten rid of it because he’d have been the worst father in the world and he did a number on me which you know about. He almost killed me. The police arrived, mum had tried calling me several times and when she couldn’t get hold of me she called them, turns out so had one of the neighbours as they’d heard the screaming and shouting…that was it. He was arrested and, well, I pressed charges and moved here.”

“You know what the worse bit was?” she looked at Frank, cutting him off “Was reliving all that in court. Despite the evidence, police catching him in the act…he denied it and I had to tell everyone what he had done. He let his Attorney cross examine me, call me a liar, and then changed his plea. Simply because he could. He wanted that one last moment of humiliation…and that’s why I can’t and won’t go to his hearing in person.”

“When I was talking to mum and dad before, I realised that I don’t wanna live my life in this state of panic and worry about what comes next. If he gets out he gets out. I can’t control that. What I can control is how I deal with it. And the only control I have is to NOT to let him control me any-more. If I go to that parole hearing he gets me in a room with him, again, and why should he?”

She took a deep breath and looked at Frank, her large brown eyes locking onto his.

“I’ll talk to Greg, he can write the statement and I’ll submit it but I’m not going.”

“You don’t have to.” he shook his head.

“I just wanna…I just want to live this normal life, with you and Mary and…be Lissy. Not Felicity, Lissy. Your Lissy.”

“You are.” he assured her. “I love you, you know that.”

“And I know you’re not that man. You’re not John and that you’d never hurt me…not because you can’t but because you don’t want to.” she took another deep breath as she glanced down at Thor who was now asleep, the dog clearly sensing no threat was there “But, Frank, there’s this part of me that thinks it’s too good to be true. That one day the whole thing will come tumbling down, and I know I have no reason to think that but I can’t help but be scared. We’re only 5 months down the line and you’re already pissed off…” “I’m not pissed off at you.” he said shaking his head “I’m angry at him putting you through this. And I just want you to know that I’m not perfect, I’m uncomfortable with the fact you think I am, that you think that this…us…” he waved his hand between them “Is something special because I treat you normally. It’s special, yeah, of course it is, but that’s because it just is. Not because I’m this magical saint like human, when in fact I’m so far from that.”

He reached over and took both her hands in his, and intertwined their fingers, looking at her. “You know, I never thought I’d ever want to settle down, that I’d ever find someone I wanted all that domestic shit with but then…I met you and…I dunno, you just…you sideswiped me Lissy, and well, yeah, it’s really early days you’re right, and what I feel for you after such a short period of time is, well, it is scary, I’ll admit that but I wanna be in this for the long run and that means we work through whatever it is together, honestly.” She smiled “So I’ll tell you when I’m scared and worried about stuff and you tell me when I’m being an idiot?”

He laughed and nodded, “Something like that.”

She leaned over, ignoring the large dog in between them and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “Deal.”

“Hey…” Verity greeted them both as Fliss smiled at her mum, “You both ok?” “Yeah.” Fliss nodded “We’re good.”

Bill eyed Frank a little cautiously, which didn’t pass Frank by so he simply flashed Bill a little nod and saw the man relax visibly before he held up a bag.

“Mary thought you might fancy ice cream so we brought you some back from the Shack.” He said.

“It was awesome!” Mary said, bouncing onto Frank’s knee drawing a grunt from him as she sat perched on his lap “I had the Oreo milkshake and a huge burger with fries and…” she paused and looked at Bill “What was that stuff on them?” “Sour cream kiddo.” Bill answered and Mary made a noise of recognition.

“Sour cream and cheese” she nodded “And then I had a cookie dough and fudge brownie sundae…” “So basically you aint gonna want to eat for a week.” Frank looked at her, and Mary grinned.

“We got you some of the black forest because I know you love that Titch.” Bill said “And Mary said Frank would want the peanut butter brittle.”

“She did.” Verity smiled “And it was our pleasure.”

“Go get your stuff on for bed. I’ll be up in a second.” he said to her gently and it was a testament to how tired she was that she didn’t protest. She gave Fliss a hug, then Verity and Bill before she skipped inside, Thor following.

“I’ll put that in the freezer…unless you want some now?” Fliss made to take the bag off her Dad and looked at Frank. He shook his head.

“Save it for tomorrow sweetheart.”

Fliss nodded and headed inside, Bill and Verity then turned to Frank.

“Is…she, I mean, are you…are you both…” Verity started and Frank gave her a smile.

“We’re ok.” he assured the woman. “I promise.”

Verity nodded as Bill looked at him.

“You sure?”

“It wasn’t nice hearing.” Frank shrugged “I’m not sure what else I can say Bill.”

Bill nodded and at that point Fliss returned and Verity smiled at her.

He wasn’t sure whether it had worked.

After torturing himself for another 10 or so minutes, with a resigned sigh he pushed himself off the sofa, and turned off the TV. Once upstairs he poked his head into the spare room and saw Mary was fast asleep, Thor curled around her feet. The dog looked up at him, but made no attempt to move as he turned off the lamp and headed across the small hallway to the master bedroom. To his surprise the lamp was on but Fliss was nowhere to be found.

Now that he thought about it, he could hear the shower was still running. She must not have gotten in straight away as she’d come upstairs a good 15 minutes or so ago. With a slight frown he headed to the door of the bathroom and gently nudged it open a touch.

“Lissy?” he asked softly, “Baby, you ok?”

Frank felt his eyes mist up again and he pulled his top over his head before shedding the rest of his clothes and stepping into the cubicle behind her.

“Hey…” he said gently, his hand dropping to her hip, the skin slick to his touch as she turned to face him. “Come’ere…”

She went willingly, melting into his strong arms as they curled round her and she buried her face into his chest.

“I’m sorry…I…” she sobbed and he simply held her close, her bare skin pressed to his as the water beat down on them both, his hands gently caressing her back.

“Let it out, I got you…” he said gently, his face pressing into her hair as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “I got you…”

“Turn around baby girl.” he said softly, and she looked at him, almost questioningly.

“Trust me…” he assured her, and she did as she was told. Frank gently reached round for her shampoo, squeezed an amount onto his palm and gently began to work it into her hair. He felt her relax slightly, her shoulders dropping, the tension seeping out of her as he massaged her scalp softly, the apple and cinnamon notes from the suds rising up his nostrils went a long way to calming him too.

“That ok?” he asked her softly, and she gave a low hmmm in response, simply leaning back further so her head was almost laying against his shoulder. He felt her relax completely against him, the suds from her hair spreading to his chest. Eventually, when he’d lathered enough he gently dropped his head, the water running off his own hair onto her shoulder, as he gently spoke into her ear and asked if she was ready to rinse it off. She nodded and allowed him to guide her round so she was facing him, tipping her head back slightly against the stream from the shower and he reached up, brushing the shampoo away from her face and down her long hair, causing her to press against him.

“You’re gonna get it in your eyes standing this way.” she said gently, as she looked up at him.

“Don’t care.” he said, his hands gently resting on her hips. “Just wanna see you.”

And he did. He drank her in, every singled damned detail. Her eyes, her nose, those little freckles that at first glance you might miss, her defined shoulders, that dip in her collar bone, the line the water was tracing between her breasts, the curve of her hips…fuck he was unashamedly aching for her now something he knew she’d spotted but hadn’t commented on. When he looked up he caught her eyes again, and she gently reached up with her hands, the pads of her fingers cupping his face through his short beard. He stayed still as she simply studied him, before she guided his face down to hers where he captured her mouth in a soft, gentle kiss. He let her guide him, tell him how much she wanted, or how little she wanted, his hands simply splaying across the soft skin on her back. Eventually she pulled away and pressed her forehead to his collar bone, her hands slipping round his wasit as she held onto him and he was happy to let her, simply basking in the fact she was seeking his comfort. Eventually she pulled away and took his hand in hers, examining his fingers.

“You’re pruned up.” she said softly and he chuckled.

“So are you.” he pointed out, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “You ready to get out?”

Fliss made her way in as Frank shut the door behind them and she padded over towards the bed before she turned and looked at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing.” she said, “I was just thinking.” “What about?”

“Something you said before about how you’re nothing special because you treat me normally.”

“I’m not.”

“Well that’s just it…” she said stepping forward towards him “You are to me…no matter how many times you try and protest otherwise.”

“Lissy…”

“You know everything now, and you still want me…” her voice was nothing but a broken whisper and it made Frank’s heart ache.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never not want you.” he said, his own voice cracking slightly.

“Frankie, I just…” “Look, I promise you…” he said, his nose bumping against hers. “Nothing you told me today changes the way I feel about you. How could it? You’re so strong, and brave and…”

“I don’t feel it.” “Well you are.” he said, his hands cupping her face “Look at what you dealt with and came out the other side…please don’t ever worry about what I think of you, because honestly I think you’re the most amazing woman on the planet.” She smiled softly at him, as he dropped his lips to her neck, gently ghosting his mouth over her skin “And you’re mine…”

“Promise?” she asked, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Cross my heart.” he mumbled, gently kissing below her ear. He felt her give a soft shudder, which he took as an encouragement and gently continued his actions, tracing his mouth down her neck to where it met the soft towel of her robe. With deft hands he reached out, and gently undid the tie around her middle, causing the robe to gape open and he ran his fingers underneath the edges before he gently shrugged it off her shoulders. He placed a soft kiss to her collar bone as he felt her hands move between them, gently pulling the edge of the towel out from where it was tucked in on itself, dropping it to the floor.

Tenderly he took her face in his hands and kissed her, softly, his tongue guiding her mouth open and she obliged, deepening the kiss slightly as her hands moved upwards, gently tangling in his hair at the nape of his neck. His movements slow and deliberate, Frank guided them her the last few steps over to the bed and laid her down, crawling over her, before his lips moved and he chained soft kisses across her jaw line, down her neck, through the valley between her breasts. He kissed the small burn scar that lay above her right hip, the origin of which he now knew, then across towards her belly button, simply taking his god-damned time, making sure he worshiped every single inch of her body he could get his hands on. His fingers traced her thighs and then up her curves as he moved back upwards, before capturing her lips again in a soft kiss that grew more urgent, but still stayed tender as Frank poured every single emotion he was feeling into her, wanting her to understand how he felt, how much he loved her, how much that was not going to change no matter what. His hand flexed on her hip and she let out a soft moan into his mouth making him pull back slightly, and press his forehead to hers. "I love you…” he said softly “I know.” She replied, voice barely a whisper. “I love you too…”

“Lissy…” he half whispered, half gasped into her hear, softly nipping at her pulse point as his hips continuing their gentle, deep roll into her “I’m not sure how much longer… are you close baby girl? Please tell me you’re close…” She didn’t answer with words, instead he felt her tightening around him and he gave another groan as she let out a soft whimper. Then, he heard it, the soft sound of his name, “Frankie..” tumbling from her lips. He nudged her nose with his, making her look at him as she gave a soft moan before she tilted her head back and let out a gentle cry as her back arched, her fingers tightened around his, and she came, her eyes fluttering shut. The sight of her underneath him, giving in to him, coming undone was enough to make him tumble over the edge right after her, gently rutting up into her he felt himself go and his movements became disjointed as he groaned and came with a shudder, utterly blissed and consumed by her.

Both of them lay still, shaking slightly with the afterglow, and Frank pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes locked straight onto hers, his hands still tangled in hers.

Hers.

Because that’s what he was. And she was his.

“I love you…” he said gently, having lost count of how much he’d said that over the course of the day but it didn’t matter, because he did, and he wanted her to know. As she wiggled her hands, he released them, dropping to his elbows as she gently ran the tips of her fingers up his spine and into his hair.

“I love you too.” she said softly, her eye shining as he leaned down to kiss her.

It was done, he couldn’t change what she’d been through, but he could damned well make sure she never went through anything like that again.

With a sigh, he gently kissed her head again and settled down against his pillow, finally allowing his mind to close off, and the tiredness catch up with him.

@momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing @pagesoflauren

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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aesthyuckic · 4 years

Text

AVENOIR | l.dh - TREDECIM

(gif not mine - credit to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: (bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

II OF PENTACLES: balance, priorities, adapting to change

The summer days seem to sweep by slowly, much like the sand that blew softly in the desert in the afternoon. It didn’t take long for Donghyuck to read the book Cosimia have him for his birthday either. He took a quick interested in the subject of witchcraft, more than she had thought he would. Every time they moved, he would end up dragging her to the book stores to the town nearby and whenever he ran out of books, he’d borrow Sicheng’s laptop for further research.

To Cosimia it was quite thrilling to see her friend so passionate and interested in something... The curiousity and joy that came to light up his eyes in the form of a sparkle made her smile to herself and feel a bit of joy herself. It gave her a sense of hope as well let her see purity in the most unlikely places she wouldn’t imagine were possible. Lately, she was often too busy looking at the boy with her own sparkle in her eyes because of this.

“I think I’m gonna become a witch...” The boy has said to her from his place on the couch.

“Hmm?” She hummed as she was knocked out of her dream like state at the kitchen counter. “Oh... I think you’d make a good one. I thought you’d need, like, a coven for that though?”

“That’s only if you want to be Wiccan,” He informed her. “I just wanna do like magick stuff, you know?”

She nodded, understanding him before she took a sip of the coffee in her mug. As soon as the cup left her lips she let out a little chuckle as she put down the white mug on the counter.

“You’ve mature quick a bit, Haechan.” She smiled. “Mentally, that is.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “I’ve always been mentally mature!”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that...” She rolled her eyes. “I meant with being more open minded about what the world has to offer and such. Also, I know you were the one who helped the seniors with their prank this year. Condom and togas? Really?”

“We were the Trojans! You have to admit it was pretty genius of me.”

“Genius isn’t the exact word I’d use to describe but yeah, sure.”

With every passing day, the closer it got to summer solstice. The solstices were always some of the most vital holidays of the years to witches. Though, the summer solstice seemed to be the most special... It was the one day of year you could brew love potions and they’d work as well as all witches having the ability to see the future.

He knew he had Cosimia. She saw the future every day, it was normal for her. There was always a part of him that wondered what it was like to see things the way she did. He wanted to see things the way she did sometimes...

Before he knew it, it was three in the afternoon on a very hot day. He sat on the floor of the trailer that felt like an oven as the carpet itches his legs from underneath him. Long pieces of dried grass remained scattered around him as he crafted away the best he could. It was oddly quiet. At least until Cosimia interrupted and found him there. She was quite shocked at the mess.

“You know, when you said you were going on a break I didn’t think it meant you were ditching.” She huffed as she looked intimidating in her all black outfit. “What are you even doing?”

“Making a besom.” He muttered, trying to tie pieces of the dry grass to the large, smooth, wooden stick. It wasn’t working for him and he got so fed up with it, he just threw it across the room which startled the girl. “This is so stupid!”

“No, it’s not stupid.” She sighed as she came to sit down to make him feel better.

“Then what is it? I’m just wasting my time and yours and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was wasting other people’s time too. Everyone thinks I’m weird or a devil worshipper! And then everyone is like ‘no, you’re a warlock or wizard, not a witch. you’re not a girl’ but they don’t understand it’s gender neutral and the others ones are insulting for some reason!”

“Okay, first off, I know you’re mad but you need to calm down. Not a lot of people know that, Haechan. Witchcraft isn’t really taught properly to the general public. Not to mention, people are scared of those types of things. You know that well, don’t you? I get it’s frustrating but you also know if no one else will understand and support you, I will. Isn’t that how we ended up here in the first place?”

He nodded, the familiar feeling of his breath being taken away from him as she held her cheeks since the passionate little speech for it. To be honest, it filled him with a different type of delight and serenity as it calmed him down after his small blow up. It was just so loving and safe...

“And hey,” She spoke softly and gently to him. “We can go into the forest tomorrow and get better materials got your besom. You can practice there too. I know you’re preparing for summer solstice... but right now, we need to go back to the tent. Hendery can only stall for so long.”

He laughed at the last comment and nodded after before following her back. There was a huge line waiting for them at the tent. In front of all those people stood Hendery and Kun. The young, black haired boy blabbered on about how Cosimia had gotten his broken arm prediction correctly and how amazing it was. It caused them to snicker a bit before the girl tapped him on the shoulder as signal that they could go back to being security. They went back to their job as well.

He stared at the girl with a sort of goofy smile as she help one of the people before he helped another. It took awhile to get rid of everyone and once they all left, he decided to do a reading for himself as he made a habit to pull a card out of the deck every day. When he was shuffling, a card came out of the deck which he gladly grabbed before flipping it over. It revealed the tower, in reverse. The image made the color from his face drain. He swipe it of the table as quick as he could, before she could see it.

There was a painful event coming, one he or even they avoided... He had no idea what it meant but it made him feel uneasy. The fear of suffering, something avoided as it could be seen. There was no clue as to what it was which made it that the more ominous to him. If it was able to be seen, wouldn’t he know? He decided not to worry about it right then as the girl was already saying it was time to go.

Much like his friend promised, they went into the forest the next day. The birds chirped and bugs hummed around them as they trudged through the thin, tall, green grass and trees. The twigs and leaves crunched under their feet as well. Cosimia pulled a old, red wagon that creeked behind her that bumped against the uneven ground every once and awhile. She would pick up things everyone in awhile and put them in the wagon.

They decided before making the besom, Donghyuck would practice a bit first. He was going to cast a circle, it would be his first time ever doing so and maybe he’d cast a few spells. They just needed a place...

There was a point they reached in the forest. There was a circle of trees that surrounded a clearing. When they went in they couldn’t see the sky clearly as ivy had grown over the top only allowing small holes to let sunlight in. It did seem almost quite magical to them as they decided to stop there because it was too perfect for them.

It was obvious Donghyuck had so much to practice. Casting a circle was something he needed to learn first and foremost as well considering it was one of the most important things to know. He cleaned the area with the clear quartz like the books he read told them too. Who would have known Cosimia’s crystal obsession would’ve really come to his use?

He stood alone in the middle the clearing as the girl sat to side on rock close to a tree. She smiled at him before he turned to face the East. He tried his best to recall the words he read multiple times to be used in this situation. He closed his eyes while he started to cast the circle with his right hand. He envisioned it in his mind as he turned clockwise. Though, half way through he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. He looked at the girl with a pout on his face, he looked like he was about to cry.

“I feel so stupid...” He mumbled while lookin down at his feet and twiddling his fingers.

“Haechan, it’s not stupid.” She sighed. “You know witchcraft is about believing before anything else. I know you may feel funny at first doing it and that’s normal. But you’re never gonna get anything out of it thinking it’s stupid.”

He began to pout again, knowing she was right and only trying to help him, “Can you join me, please?”

“...I’m not a witch, though. And I don’t want to be one either...”

“You don’t have to be! You don’t have to do anything other than encourage me. I just don’t want to be alone while doing this.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly to herself because of how quickly she gave into him. Nonetheless, she still came over to stand beside him. It left a smile on his face which soften her up as well as make her feel better about. It was only a few moments later that she noticed how long they had been staring at each other in that beautiful place.

“Hurry up!” She hissed, interrupting them moment. “We still need to make your besom and Johnny’s gonna pissed once he figures out we dipped today!”

He kind of felt hurt by her attitude but understood it at the same time. So he picked up where he left off. He closed his eyes and raised his right hand once again to continue where he left the circle unfinished. He unknowingly grabbed Cosimia’s hand with his left while he finished casting the circle around them. He was done before he knew it. He dropped his arm to his side. His eyes fluttered open as his friend pulled on his hand, gently. He looked at where the spot where it connected in the end.

“I think you casted a circle.” She whispered in his ear, a tad of sweetness in her voice. “You did it.”

“H-huh?” He stuttered at the exact same moment he realized he was still holding her hand.

She let go, though. It made his heart clench in the way he missed the warmth of human touch. He expected it oddly enough. She was still getting comfortable around him and he was lucky she even put up with considering he initiated it.

“I can’t even get out now to go get the stuff for besom.” She chuckled in the thick air as she noticed the red wagon was left by the rock. “I guess you’ll have to dismantle it.”

“You know there’s a way to go and out, right?” He asked.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. Why don’t we just relax here for a bit, anyway?”

She sat on the ground within the circle before she leaned back at the bright green grass with her arms behind her head. Her dark purple hair spread out around her, some parts turn red in the sun let in. The white light leaked in through the ivy to make her eyes sparkle and her hair look shiny and smooth.

“What about Johnny?” He teased as he sat down next to her.

She shrugged, “He’s gonna be mad regardless of when we come back. Why don’t we get a nice day out of it before we get yelled at? We won’t be back here, at least not for some time.”

For awhile, they just laid their in the oddly warm grass. It wasn’t until later they actually did anything productive. She helped him get his besom ready, the air becoming slightly cooler as the afternoon seemed to pass by. They sat in the exact same spots in the middle of the clearing, across from each other.

“So, are you excited for summer solstice?” She asked in the mist of silence.

“Of course!” He answered. “It’s the one time of year where I can see the future for myself.”

“And according to the Romanian witches, it’s also the one time of year where you can make love potions that actually work.”

“Yes, I do actually. I’m surprised you know that actually.”

“I was just wondering... if you are gonna make any? You know for me?”

He froze in his spot as she asked the question to him so nonchalantly. His eyes even bugged out of his head as his the rest of his face remained relatively blank. At the same time, maybe she wasn’t stuble poking at him having a crush on her... Maybe she wanted one herself but for who? Lucas?

“What would you even need one for?” Donghyuck grumbled as he went back to work.

“I guess I didn’t phrase it right.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I meant, are you gonna make any for me for yourself?”

It was no longer easy to avoid the question by playing dumb unfortunately. It was too apparent that he had a thing for her anyway. He was a fool for thinking she wouldn’t know or figure it out. To even deny it would do no good.

“No,” He stated. “If you’re going to fall in love with me, I want it to be natural, not artificial. I wouldn’t like knowing you don’t love me for the sake of loving me…”

“That’s very beautiful of you, Haechan.” She smiled.

He hummed with a nod as a response. The both of them went back to working on besom. He avoided looking up for the rest of the time they were there like that. It was silent between them too but the bugs flying around and such filled it. It was warm, he sun light that seeped through the ivy was comforting and seemed like it could coaxed anyone into a nap right then.

It was truly the most calm and peaceful it had been for quite some time for them. The days leading up to the solstice were also that way. Donghyuck remained excited throughout their work day which put a smile on the girl’s face. The night was the most important time for it all though.

A fire burned bright a away from the grounds. Their newly founded friends even came to support him, mostly because Cosimia said how much the whole thing meant to him. All they really had to do was hold a candle and a specific type of plant they picked themselves the other day. To be honest, seeing everyone there for him made him feel so happy especially after the last time of where he was just ignored.

Nothing really happened until the clock stroke midnight though. It was time, by what the books said, ‘to open the sky’ which was most exhilarating part of it all. It would give him the power to see into future. He got his besom and lit the end of little twigs on fire before he raised it toward the sky. He felt awkward about it, just like with casting a circle the other day and also a bit heavy but continued regardless.

He started to mumble a spell as his besom was pointed toward the moon. The others that stood around him could barely make out a thing he was saying, the crackles from the fire not helping. He hadn’t notice but the end pointed toward the sky was becoming brighter and hotter. The other sure did take notice though, most of them scared as they only stood there.

They waited, there had to be more right? He still hadn’t seen anything yet and let alone feel anything besides the heaviness in his chest thinking maybe it wasn’t real... Though, in a sudden move, he fell back and dropped the rest of his besom in the fire before he saw himself be engulf in darkness. The darkness suddenly turned white. He saw another verison of himself, burning away much like a picture would only to reveal Cosimia. She was covered in ivy. Her father, he’d only seen once appeared out of no where with a crazed look in his eye. All he saw was the color of gold before he back to where he was before.

He found himself on the ground, rocks digging into his back and a painful headache. Everyone surrounded him with a concerned look on his face. Mostly he only saw the girl as she was the one cradling his head.

“A-are you okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Oh, how many fingers am I holding up?” Jeno butted in while putting up two fingers.

“Dude,” Jaehyun started. “He could literally have a concussion, not now.”

“Y’all ain’t gonna talk about how he wasn’t just vibrating?” Jaemin brought up. “That literally can’t be a concussion!”

“Vibrating?” He questioned as he wondered what exactly happened when he went into state.

“Will you all just shut up?” The girl snapped.

“Is it a bad time to say Kun called the paramedics?” Lucas informed quietly from behind the boys. “They’re gonna be here soon but does Haechan even need to go to the hospital since he looks okay now.”

“Nothing wrong with a check up after what happened.” She sighed as she played with his silver hair a little bit which took his mind off the pain.

“Okay... but did you see anything though?” Hendery laughed nervously.

“Hendery!” Sicheng hissed whole hitting him in the arm

“What? I’d like to know!”

“No, not really.... Just some colors but that was about it...”

“Well, that’s boring.”

“Hendery!”

26 notes · View notes

diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader- “The Work Wife” Part 6

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs. The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Starts HERE

After 1 Month

The Joker circles the warehouse, inspecting the boxes and crates full of ammo and smuggled goods received with last night’s shipment.

“Hmm…” he eyeballs a decorative vase engraved with gold and silver, wondering if the extravagant object should become part of his collection at The Penthouse. His cell start vibrating and J takes it out of pocket, impatient to hear about his wife’s routine checkup:

“ ‘ello,” he kicks two packages out of the way.

“Hi,” you greet your spouse. “Just got out of my appointment; the doctor said all seems fine. He ordered some lab tests to make sure my blood levels are within the normal range; I should get the results in about 3 days.”

“That’s awesome!” he grumbles while bending over to grab some papers scattered on the floor. “I’m glad you’re ok, I should have come also for moral support.”

Y/N smiles at the confession, choosing not to disclose it makes her happy:

“You have to sort out the cargo; the buyer will be there shortly.”

“Yeah, but this could have waited.”

Your smile gets wider as J fumbles around with several items.

“Tell you what: I’ll finish up some stuff here and I’ll drive to pitch in.”

The King of Gotham wouldn’t normally decline yet he’s actually worried after everything that happened.

“Nope, I want you to rest; you’ve been too active lately and you need to slow down. Why are you giggling?” he smacks his lips, displeased four trunks look like they’ve been tampered with.

“Nothing in particular,” the bubbly Y/N keeps the best for last.

“I’ll see you home; I found something I don’t like,” The Joker grunts as the heavy lid is lifted from one of the containers. “Stay put and relax!” he orders and you nonchalantly drop the bomb:

“Maybe I will,” and after a small pause: “Oh! By the way, I was given green light for sex.”

“ ‘kay, see you in a couple of hours,” J struggles with the box and waits for your long “Byeeeeee” before hanging up. A few seconds into his task and it hits.

“Holy shit!” he exhales and holds his breath, startled. “Jesus!!” he abandons the precious merchandise, running towards the exit. “Froooossst!!!” he gets his henchman’s assistance. “Take over!!”

“Yes sir!” Jonny emerges from one of the SUV’s parked inside, not understanding why his boss is in a hurry. “Anything wrong?”

“No!!! I have a personal emergency!!” The Joker shouts and pushes the heavy metal door to the side, wishing he was already at his destination.

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

J enters the code on the pin pad and he is granted access into your apartment. He went to The Penthouse first: you weren’t there and he figured you must be on the 29th floor. He storms inside and rushes towards the bedroom when his enthusiasm is abruptly halted by no other than Jonathan Crane coming out of the kitchen.

Scarecrow almost drops the fresh coffee mug you brewed for him; The Clown Prince of Crime was certainly not informed you had company. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not one to be embarrassed by his current situation:

“May I help you Crane?” a high and mighty J sassily blurs out wearing nothing but his birthday suit.

“I doubt it,” Jonathan is quick to respond. “I dropped by to bring you extra ampules of Liquid Dream like you wanted and pain killers refill for Y/N in case she needs more.”

You suddenly pop up from behind Scarecrow, not being able to stop the question:

“Why are you naked?!”

The Joker opens his mouth because he has a cool explanation, yet the guest doesn’t care about it.

“I think I should bail,” he smirks as he passed by J. “I’m taking the cup, I’ll bring it back next time,” he announces and can’t contain a smartass remark: “Nice attire.”

Your husband bitterly growls and as always, you have to be the catalyst for a better outcome:

“Thank you, Jonathan!”

Scarecrow waves without adding extra comments, 100% positive you’ll burst out laughing as soon as he vacates the premises.

And he’s correct.

“Oh my God,” you snicker since you didn’t expect such a funny coincidence to unfold within today’s schedule. “That was hilarious!” the amused Y/N finds herself in The Joker’s arms moments after Jonathan’s departure. “Where are your clothes?!” you kiss him and he yanks at your waist, purring.

“The jacket and shirt in the car, pants and boxers in the elevator,” he admits while guiding you towards the couch in the living room. “The socks and shoes are somewhere on the hallway.”

“I was wondering when you’ll realize about the news I shared,” you whisper in his ear as he takes off your summer dress, aroused.

The two bodies plunge on the sofa, Y/N enjoying the intimacy as much as he does:

“J… … J…” you cling to him when his left hand slips in your bikini.

“Mmm? Does something hurt?” The Joker pecks the tip of your nose, ready to quit if you say yes.

“No… it’s not that,” the seriousness in your voice makes him pay attention.

Maybe you shouldn’t bring up the past in these circumstances; here it comes anyway:

“If the Las Vegas events repeat themselves… I won’t forgive you again,” you stare in his eyes without blinking. “I won’t return… ”

The Joker is silent and you wonder what’s going on in his mind; it’s not a secret he was miserable after being abandoned in the City of Lights due to his despicable conduct.

“They won’t.”

“Are you sure?” the doubt in your tone forces him to reveal:

“I’m sure because it felt horrible when you weren’t around.”

You caress J’s hair and remind him you won’t compromise for less than his total commitment:

“You’re either mine or you’re not, ok?...”

“I’m yours,” he grumbles and it’s not very difficult since the woman asking is no casual fling but the only one he ever wanted to marry for reals. “I want the special treatment,” the immediate request makes you snort: it’s so like him to articulate crap like this in the middle of a serious discussion.

“Do you?!”

“Yes!!” The Joker nibbles on your neck and underlines his affliction: “I’ve been so horny I’m not sure how I still function; I behaved though, I swear!” he’s fast to emphasize while pulling on your bra strap. “You know why?” J throws the question out there, aware the statement will please his wife. “I tolerate you… even if you’ve been nagging me for almost 12 years.”

“Careful,” you admonish. “Uttering such words makes you sound like you’re in love.”

“God forbids! You think so?!” the painful grimace on his face prompts more teasing from your part:

“Yeap, no cure for this terrible disease.”

Your bra ends up on the floor and he’s not content with the epilogue.

“I’m screwed then.”

“Noooot yet,” you wink and his purring intensifies when your teeth sink into his shoulder. “We’re getting there.”

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

Same morning, 11:47am

“There you are!” J exclaims discovering you on the terrace. “You disappeared on me Y/N: I thought you said we’ll have lunch,” the hyper spouse recalls. “What’s wrong?” he frowns seeing you wiping your tears and doesn’t stress the lack of an answer when he notices the ultrasound picture. The Joker quietly sits by you on the swing, kissing your scared cheek in the process. “You ok?”

“U-hum,” you nod. “I wish I didn’t have the miscarriage, you know?...” your bottom lip quivers while placing the image in your robe’s pocket. “I really wanted a baby…”

“My poor old girl…” he sighs and doesn’t expect you to agree.

“I am old!” you keep sobbing and he squeezes you closer to him. “It was probably my last chance to have a child and I blew it!”

The King of Gotham sucks at cheering; he attempts nevertheless:

“Mmmm… You’re supposed to say you’re not old and then I reply that you are old for my standards, which should prompt you to fight back and highlight my standards are crap. Am I to carry on these sort of conversations meant for two by myself now?!” he huffs. “People will think I’m crazy!”

You snort at his monologue and it’s the perfect opportunity to make it clear your opinion is unchanged:

“Your standards are crap!”

“There you are,” the delighted Joker reckons. “I got nervous for a moment,” he chuckles and you elbow him, smiling through tears. “What about we eat something and then we can plan our location for the honeymoon we didn’t get to enjoy?”

J’s plan is working: the little surprise proposition is distracting Y/N and she carefully weighs in his sentences.

“Would you like to elope?” he pushes for a decision and you play with your wedding ring, mumbling:

“I don’t wanna go to Vegas.”

“No Vegas!” he’s fast to consent. “Where to then?”

“Well…” you sniffle, “…what about Reno? We could stay at Solaris Casino; Mark Nessi would accommodate us.”

“He would. If we pack and leave, we can make it there by 7:30-ish pm.”

“You want to leave today?! What about your meetings? You actually have one tomorrow.”

“Meh, Frost can postpone them,” The Joker dismisses your concerns. “I vote we bail and have fun, hm?” he lifts your chin up. “Let’s get the hell out of here, yes?” the impatient Clown wiggles next to you.

“OK…” Y/N elects to grant his plea because escaping town couldn’t have a better timing: it will be nice to spend time together and try to get over the disappointment of his past mistake.

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

Reno, 8:42pm

You and The Joker are strolling towards the gambling area, excited to have made it here an hour ago. The traffic wasn’t bad and you took turns driving, that’s why you had dinner first and then changed clothes in order to enjoy the night properly.

“I liked the lobster,” you pull at his arm since he’s distrait. “How was your stake?” you seek to chat when he suddenly opens the door to one of the storage closets and shoves you inside. You get trapped against the wall as J claims his special request for the evening.

“I want the special treatment,” he growls and you smirk.

“You didn’t do anything to earn it! This morning I made an exception because it’s been weeks since we had sex. Don’t let my lenience trick you!”

“Don’t nag me!” J cuts you off. “This backless red dress of yours is doing things to me so I want the special treatment,” he slides his arms around your waist.

“Surrounded by shampoo bottles and toilet paper?!”

“It’s quite sexy,” The Joker grins and you compromise a tiny bit:

“I’ll only do the first part! That’s it! I want to go and play poker.”

His face comes close to yours and you start kissing every inch of it, ogling the door instead of paying attention to him.

“You’re not doing it right!” your husband complains. “You’re supposed to look at me!”

You switch your concentration and keep staring in his eyes, abandoning the project when you consider it done.

“Where are you going?” J stops your movement. “Thanks to you I can’t walk now,” he lifts up your short dress and you dodge his touch, opening the door in order to escape.

“Of course you can! Come on, stop sulking,” you drag him out and he follows, bickering at your indifference.

“You’re mean!” The Joker admonishes and you intertwine his fingers with yours, guiding him in the direction of the VIP room.

“No, I’m not,” you defend your actions. “I’ve been around you for so many years that those blue eyes and long lashes don’t have any powers over me,” Y/N teases. “I’m immune.”

“Bullshit!” he mutters and you steal a kiss, inviting him to enter the poker room.

“Do you want to sit by the bar?” you point and J doesn’t oppose the choice. “I’m getting a cocktail. Grape juice?”

“No,” he pouts and makes himself comfortable while you fetch your drink.

“Hello Mister Joker,” one of the dolled-up girls swiftly pops up at the table. “I didn’t see you in forever!”

“I’ve been busy,” he avoids the subject and barks when she tries to collapse on the chair next to his. “This seat’s taken!”

“Oh,” she straightens her back. “By whom?!” the envious Ella inquires.

Did another girl get to him first?! It’s common knowledge he’s generous with his flings and she can’t believe another will cash in the benefits.

“My wife,” he taps his fingers on the table, annoyed the interrogation continues.

“You got married Mister Joker?!” the woman doesn’t hide her astonishment: it’s not that his nuptials were broadcasted on the news. Plus… he’s a very weird man, totally not husband material.

“A few months ago,” he sneers and she’s not smart enough to take the hint.

“Who did you marry Mister Joker?” she giggles, more and more convinced he’s bluffing: The King of Gotham is probably messing around to make her jealous.

“My best friend and main nagger,” J bitterly mentions. “Isn’t this what people do? Marry their best friends?”

“You almost got me Mister Joker,” she laughs at his strange acknowledgement, reassured he’s messing with her: an individual like him would pronounce such nonsense only to initiate flirting.

“Excuse me!” you bump into her on purpose, aware why she’s there. “I got you grape juice on ice,” you place the glass in front of your spouse and he opens his mouth in amazement.

“I was literally about to order this! How did you know I changed my mind?!”

“Best friends know,” you bend to kiss him and J pouts, annoyed you overheard his childish affirmation.

“You have such a cool tattoo on your back!” Ella exclaims. “Is that Japanese?”

Y/N turns in her chair, confused to notice the lady is still standing behind them.

“Yes.”

“What does it say?”

You take a deep breath, fed up by her unwanted presence.

“It says that if you don’t get lost, I’ll make sure your body is never found again! And if it’s eventually found, it surely won’t be identifiable!!”

You reprise your position at the poker table, patiently waiting for the dealer to finish handing out the cards.

“I’m so hot and bothered,” J brushes his lips on yours. “Your attitude begs for my undivided eagerness to peel you out of this dress,” he lustfully glares at your cleavage.“What do you say we leave and have a party on our own? We can play strip poker in the honeymoon suite.”

“We just got here minutes ago,” you fix a rebel strand of hair then whisper: “Table seven, white shirt guy.”

“Do you ever take vacations?” The Joker grinds his teeth, nonchalantly gazing at your suspicious target.

“I like to mix business with pleasure,” you wink and accidentally spill a little bit of your cocktail on his pants. “Oops, pardon me; I assume you have to come with me if you need help stepping out of your wet garment.”

“As that old Arkham report specifies: I need all the help I can get,” The Clown reveals to an amused Y/N, excited she’s receptive to his innuendos.

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

You emerge from the walk-in closet in your skimpy purple lace attire and The Joker gasps, enticed at the view.

“Oh my God! Com’ere!” he gestures for your company and you crawl in bed, pushing aside the items scattered on the sheets:

“What’s with the shampoo bottles and toilet paper rolls?!”

“I’m attempting to recreate the seductive atmosphere in the storage room, maybe it can convince you to continue the special treatment.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” you scoff and straddle his lap, conflicted if you should grant his wish.

“I usually don’t… Are you gonna help like you promised and take off my pants?” J gropes you and the knock at the door interrupts your answer.

“Room service!”

“Did you order from the menu?” you ask and your husband purrs:

“More champagne.”

“Maybe our new friend has arrived,” you wink, hopping out of bed.

“Why don’t we find out?” The Joker spanks your butt as you cover your body with the bathrobe.

Y/N grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and hides around the corner while he shouts:

“Come in!”

The waiter pushes in the rolling cart in the middle of the lobby, greeting his grouchy customer:

“Hi Mister Joker, would you like one bottle or two?”

“One!”

You creep beyond him and smash the glass against his skull; the man falls on his knees and you take advantage of his dizziness to switch him face up: it is the guy from table seven!

“Who send you?” you ferociously punch him and he struggles to escape when The King’s gun ends up one inch away from his temple. “Who send you?” Y/N shrieks and she’s so absorbed into her job she can’t discern the mesmerized Joker staring at her. It’s not that he didn’t see you in action before, but it finally clicked:

It sure pays off being married to your work wife!

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker jared leto #joker suicide squad #mister j #Mistah J #dc #dcu

107 notes · View notes

dvp95 · 4 years

Text

quiet on widow’s peak (13)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 4.3k (this chapter), 42.9k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil is herded out of the house before he can shower, style his hair, or put in his contacts. As soon as his clothes are finished drying, his parents are pushing him and all of his bags out the door.

“We’ve got someone coming to see the house,” his mum had explained in that half-frantic voice he associates with company arriving. “You’ve got somewhere to be, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t have the gumption to explain that he’s still got hours before he has to be anywhere. Instead, Phil just hoists his bags higher on his shoulders and sets off for the bus stop. The wind isn’t bad today, thank goodness for small mercies, but it still isn’t pleasant to be outside in November. He pushes his floppy, unwashed hair off his forehead and reluctantly sends Dan a message.

It’s still pretty early and Dan might be in class by now, so he doesn’t expect an immediate response. He’s halfway through a Buzzfeed article and leaning against the shaky bus window by the time his phone buzzes.

im omw from class now just meet me at my place

An address follows, close enough to the coffee shop and the Wilkins place for Phil to feel comfortable finding it. He’s not sure how comfortable he is with being in such a small, private place with Dan before spending most of the night with them. He wonders if his brewing feelings and abject confusion surrounding them will be obvious.

Phil bites his lip and taps away from the article. He’s not sure where to start, but he thinks it’s about time that he started looking into gender stuff. He’s lived with PJ for almost two years and been friends with him for longer, but this isn’t something they tend to talk about. Technically, he hadn’t even been told, he’d just picked up on it from conversations around the old Brighton house. PJ isn’t in the closet, but he seems to have the same attitude about his gender identity that Phil has about his sexual identity - it isn’t anyone’s business unless they’re actively pursuing him.

This isn’t about PJ, though. Phil can’t pretend like these bewildered Google searches are in any way an attempt to understand his friend better. This is about Dan.

“Dan?”

The girl looks confused enough that Phil thinks he’s gotten the wrong flat for a horrified moment, but then her brow uncreases and she laughs.

“Oh, duh. Sorry, she doesn’t have many people coming to visit.” She waves Phil inside and eyes his bags. “Especially not many that look like they’re moving in. You planning on staying long, mate?”

“Just the night,” Phil says, more or less honestly. His brain is still stuck on the new pronoun. He knows that Dan is fine with any pronouns, and that includes feminine ones, it just feels strange to have someone use the opposite of what most people might assume. “Er, my parents are selling their place and needed my junk out of the way.”

She nods and gestures deeper into the flat. It doesn’t have as many doors as the Brighton house that Phil shares with a rugby team’s worth of people, but it’s still enough to overwhelm him a bit. Seemingly in response to whatever panicked expression finds its way to Phil’s face, the girl laughs. “Winnie’s room is at the end of the hall,” she says. “Her name’s on the door, you can’t miss it.”

“Her name being Winnie,” Phil says slowly.

“That’s what she wants us to call her,” the girl says. There’s an edge to her voice now, a sort of protectiveness that Phil doesn’t know how to respond to.

Phil gives her an uncertain sort of smile and heads down the hallway. The common areas are surprisingly tidy for a student flat, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable there. He finds himself in front of a dark wooden door with a Winnie the Pooh poster stuck to it. It’s not exactly a nameplate, but Phil understands why their flatmate said that.

He knocks lightly, not wanting to disturb the other people who live here and might still be asleep. It’s barely past noon, after all, and Phil remembers what it was like to be a student. Hell, he doesn’t really have a proper sleep schedule now.

“Come in!”

Dan’s room is darker than the rest of the flat, and Phil has to let his eyes adjust for a moment as the door closes behind him. There are blackout curtains over the single window and fairy lights draped over every possible surface, giving the whole place a soft vibe. Phil doesn’t see Dan at first, but then he realises that they’re on the floor with -

“Is that a weasel?” Phil asks without bothering to say hello, dropping his bags carefully. The last thing he wants to do is scare the creature that’s scampering all over Dan’s shoulders and arms.

“Excuse me,” Dan laughs. They hold out the animal for inspection, and Phil joins them on the floor. “This is Tofu, he’s a ferret.”

“Hello, Tofu,” says Phil. He reaches out to gently take the ferret’s paw between his thumb and finger, and he pretends like they’re shaking hands. Dan laughs again, bright and happy, and Phil decides that he really likes seeing Dan in their comfort zone. “It’s very nice to meet you! I’m Phil.”

Tofu makes a squeaking sort of noise and wiggles out of Dan’s hands to roll around on the carpet.

“He’s kind of an idiot,” Dan says fondly. “Pixel is the smart one in this family, but she’s sleeping.”

Phil’s eyes follow Dan’s vague gesture to a surprisingly large, multi-level enclosure. There’s another ferret curled up in there, and Phil assumes that’s Pixel. “Exactly how many weasels do you have?”

“Just the two,” says Dan. They’re smiling so wide that Phil can’t bring himself to look away. Their lips are a dark shade of red, or maybe burgundy, but it’s hard to tell in the low lighting. The dark lines around their eyes are even more shadowed with it, though, and it’s an entrancing sort of effect. “Originally it was just the one, but she got so lonely. I should have gotten an introverted animal, I guess, if I didn’t want multiple, but I didn’t mind. Pixel wanted a buddy, so. Pixel got a buddy.”

“I think even introverts need buddies sometimes,” says Phil.

He’s suddenly so self-conscious about being here in his current state. He’s wearing his trusty denim on denim, which he knows suits him fine, but he’s also got his clunky glasses and can’t remember if he put deodorant on or not. Dan, on the other hand, looks as stunning as always.

That gets even more obvious as they lounge out a bit, uncrossing and stretching their long legs. Their leggings are tight and translucent enough that Phil might find them indecent if there weren’t a short, swishy skirt covering the important bits. When Dan stretches their arms out, too, their unbuttoned flannel falls further open and shows off the cropped band tee underneath.

Most of Dan’s body is covered, really. Only their hands and neck and navel are out, but that’s enough to make Phil’s brain short-circuit. Their hands are distractingly big, but still so gentle when they pick Tofu back up; their neck is long and ends in either a sharp clavicle or a soft, rounded jawline; their tummy is soft like the rest of them and there’s a simple barbell piercing through their belly button that Phil has to force himself to look away from.

“Have you talked to your friends about us going back?” Dan asks, seemingly oblivious to the way Phil is taking them in from head to toe.

“What?” Phil bleats, and then his brain catches up to the conversation before Dan can repeat themself. “Oh, yeah. I texted them about it, and they’re a bit worried, but they’re glad you’re coming along. They were pretty nervous about me doing this alone.”

“PJ said you tend to do stupid shit,” Dan says bluntly. Tofu is climbing up their arms and biting at their hair, but they don’t even react.

“When did PJ say that?”

Dan’s lips curve into a smile. “When he drove me home. We talked about you.”

Normally, a statement like that would make Phil anxious. He still feels it, a bit, that creeping sense of frustration and nervousness that he associates with mild anxiety, but it’s more dull than it would be if Dan wasn’t smiling at him so softly. Something about it makes Phil certain that he’d get an honest answer if he asked what they all said about him.

That certainty and budding trust are enough to keep his loud anxiety at bay, and Phil finds that he doesn’t feel the need to ask.

Instead, he looks around Dan’s room some more. Pixel is still napping soundly, and Phil doesn’t blame her - the room is so quiet and dim and full of pleasing scents from the candles on Dan’s nightstand, Phil can easily imagine curling up somewhere soft in here and nodding off.

The furniture itself is crappy in the way that most students have to deal with, but Dan seems to have an eye for design that Phil has never had. Sure, there’s no bed frame to hold Dan’s mattress, but their duvet matches the monochrome colour scheme of the posters and paintings on the walls, and their pillows look welcoming surrounded by a small collection of stuffed animals. Their desk is organized, but their closet is open and spilling clothes onto the floor a bit. Phil wonders if that’s something Dan had planned on fixing before he got here, or if Dan doesn’t mind having their dresses and jeans and boots on display.

There’s barely any colour at all, really, but it doesn’t feel depressing like Phil would have thought it might.

That’s not exactly true. There’s some colour.

Phil must be looking at the flag on the wall for too long, because Dan makes a humming sort of noise and breaks the comfortable quiet. “I know it’s a bit tacky,” they say, “and it doesn’t match, but… I dunno. I wasn’t able to be out until I got to uni, and I might have gone a bit nuts with it.”

“Yeah,” says Phil. His throat is a bit dry. “I can understand that.”

“It makes me feel safe,” says Dan. Phil turns to look at them again, but he regrets it as soon as he sees the genuine emotion in Dan’s wide eyes. He isn’t good with that. “Like. Knowing I can have it hung here, that I can be open with people without them being upset with me or something. I don’t think the flag itself makes me feel safe? But maybe that’s not true, either. Maybe embracing that part of myself helped me embrace the community as a whole. I haven’t done Pride yet or anything. Maybe next year. But - safety. Comfort. Y’know?”

“I do,” Phil says quietly. “I do know.”

Dan’s eyes go sharp. Phil hasn’t seen them do that before, and it’s unnerving how much it feels like his very soul is under scrutiny. He wants to squirm away from that feeling, doesn’t want any part of himself under a microscope, but he doesn’t want to run like he might normally.

There’s another moment of quiet, where Dan looks at Phil and Phil doesn’t look away, but of course Phil is the first to break.

“Which of those is your favourite?” he asks instead of saying the words he knows Dan is waiting for. He doesn’t want to run, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be more forthcoming. At Dan’s furrowed brow, Phil gestures to the bookshelf. Dan has a lot of books and movies and boxsets and textbooks, more than Phil can take in all at once. “The, uh, the anime. My favourite’s Fullmetal Alchemist. Er, Brotherhood, not the first one, but both are good.”

For a second, it doesn’t seem like Dan is going to allow him to change the subject so easily. But then Tofu bites at their ear and they’re both giggling, the intensity of the moment slinking off to make way for casual conversation.

Talking to Dan is easier than talking to some people that Phil has known for years. They put on a show that they’ve both seen and enjoy and they chat the whole time. Phil points out camera and editing choices that Dan hadn’t put much thought to before, and Dan rambles about theories they’d seen on Reddit for so long that Pixel has become Phil’s best friend by the end of it. Dan makes food at some point, their brief absence allowing Phil to look more carefully at the titles on their shelves. They have even more to talk about when Dan gets back, because Phil has a lot of opinions on some of the quote-unquote ‘classics’ that Dan reads and Dan has some opinions on Phil picking the cheese off his sandwich. Phil almost forgets that he’s here for a specific reason, that they aren’t just friends hanging out, until Dan brings out their Polaroid and starts asking questions about what to expect on the haunt.

Phil kind of wishes they could just stay here.

Before they left, PJ, Sophie, and Chris had all drawn several Sharpie sigils on a thin piece of scrap fabric and insisted that Phil tie it around his wrist or something. He takes it out of his pocket as he and Dan approach the house.

“Here,” he says, pulling them to a stop and rolling their sleeve up a bit. He ignores their big doe eyes and wraps it around their knobby wrist a couple of times. “Is that too tight?”

“No,” says Dan. They stay still while Phil ties it, and then they raise their hand to inspect it.

“It’s from the gang,” says Phil. “I know it seems like the sigils didn’t help last time, but - well, I dunno. Maybe they did help and it was going to be a lot worse without them. Or maybe they just rubbed off our skin too quickly. But, y’know, I know you don’t believe in this stuff, it just… it makes us feel better. I thought it would be a good placebo for you if nothing else.”

Dan touches the fabric and then smiles, looking for all the world like Phil has given them something precious.

“Thank you,” they say, their voice altogether too sincere for Phil to respond to without some major awkwardness. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m already wearing my thing,” Phil lies. “C’mon, let’s get inside.”

The thing is, Phil figures Dan is the one who needs protecting from whatever is going on in the Wilkins place. They’re the one who got attacked last time, while Phil only dealt with flickering lights and the feeling of being watched. The last thing he needs is for Dan to insist on coming along again only to get themself hurt again.

He’s not sure if Dan believes him or not, but it doesn’t matter. Phil is already shouldering the back door open. He could climb through the window again with a boost from Dan, but he doesn’t think he has enough upper-body strength to pull Dan up after him.

The kitchen is as dark and dusty as ever, but that smothering, creeping feeling of eyes in the walls isn’t present. Phil stands still for a few seconds, waiting for it to wash over him again, but in the end he’s in the same place he figured he’d be from the beginning - listening to the creaking sounds of a house with absolutely nothing supernatural about it. He’s weirdly disappointed, but he imagines that Dan must be relieved.

He turns to Dan to see what they think, but their eyes are just as wide as they’d been the last time.

“Hey,” Phil says, quiet so as not to disturb the dust. “You feel something?”

“No,” Dan admits. They move closer to Phil, twisting their fingers into the cuff of his jacket and holding tight. It’s sort of sweet how they think he might leave them alone in this house, but it’s also somewhat of a nuisance to have a large person attached to him while he’s trying to move quietly.

“Then what’s wrong? Do you need to leave?”

Dan shakes their head. Their teeth dig into their dark bottom lip, and even though they reapplied their lip product before leaving the house, it still ends up on their teeth a little bit. Phil isn’t sure if he’s supposed to point it out or not. “I don’t need to leave or anything, it’s fine. I’m fine. Coming with you was the whole point. I just don’t… okay. Promise not to laugh at me?”

“I think I promise,” says Phil. He gives Dan a reassuring little smile. “But if you break into song and dance or something I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“Shut up,” Dan says, but they’re giggling. “No, I just… I just don’t like the dark, okay?”

It clearly takes something out of Dan to admit that. Phil shifts his hand so he can squeeze Dan’s. “Nobody really likes the dark,” Phil says. “I mean, it’s kind of my job, so I’m used to it, but I wouldn’t mind being somewhere brightly-lit and clean instead.”

“Thanks.” Dan’s cheeks look a bit darker, but that might just be the low lighting. “You can lead the way.”

Nothing happens.

There are spiders and dark corners and once or twice a loud noise from outside makes Dan jump and grab at his hand again, but Phil never feels like anything more is going to happen. The walls don’t have anything behind them except maybe rats, and even the attic simply makes Phil sneeze.

It’s frustrating. It’s almost worse than the night that he put his friends in danger, because at least then he knew that he could have a chance at a decent video. Now, there’s nothing to record.

Phil finds himself wishing for a flickering light or a quick shadow. He wants something, anything, to make him feel like he’s doing something productive with his life.

Instead, he just feels like he’s wading deeper into the confusion and shadows of his own future. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go if he can’t keep going back to the darkness of abandoned houses and old cemeteries. He went to uni, sure, but he hasn’t had a ‘real’ job in his life. Unless a month at the stationery store counts. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with figuring out what he ought to be doing with his life if he isn’t chasing ghosts, but he’s not having fun with this anymore.

He’s twenty-six. It’s not old, he’s not old. He’s got plenty of time to figure his life out.

But if he’s spent the last decade wasting all his free time on something that isn’t enjoyable anymore, then he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to forgive himself.

Dan is in his personal space again, pressing close to avoid the encroaching darkness, and they smell like… lavender. Phil remembers spice and mint from them, and he wonders if they’re wearing some kind of perfume today. It’s such a feminine scent that it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that he wants.

Further and further into the waters he goes. He doesn’t know what comes next for any of it, and it’s terrifying.

“We could stay all night again,” Phil is protesting, even as Dan frogmarches him down the back steps. “I know we didn’t find anything, but maybe it only works when you’re trying to sleep over? I could -”

“You’ll do nothing,” says Dan. “We are both going home, and I’m seeing you onto the bus so you don’t sneak back without me.”

Phil wants to object, but Dan tightens their grip on his arms like they know exactly what he’s going to say. Besides, it would probably be a lie. Phil is stressed and frustrated and in over his head, and if he could just get one clip or photo of this thing, then maybe everything will be okay. Maybe he can keep doing this after all.

He gently detangles himself from Dan and sighs, hoisting his backpack up. “Fucking… fine.”

“Fucking fine,” Dan repeats, their lips twitching.

“Maybe the sigils worked too well,” says Phil. He keeps his tone level so that Dan won’t be able to tell that he’s joking right away, but Dan shoves at his shoulder like they’re well aware of what he’s doing. “You know, I bet -”

“You’re annoying when you can’t do what you want, huh?” Dan interrupts. Their hands are shoved in their jacket pockets, but Phil wishes they weren’t. He wishes he could brush his hand against theirs as they walk and convince himself that it’s all an accident. “Bet that’s the baby brother in you.”

“No comment.”

The walk to the bus stop is quieter than the last time Dan walked him to it, but it's not uncomfortable. Phil can’t believe how much he cares about this person already. They’re friends, he’s pretty sure, and it’s impossible to deny how much this crush is starting to get to him. Still. It’s new, Dan is new, and Phil has to consider the possibility that the novelty is all he’s feeling.

It’s not. But he has to consider it, because Phil has to consider every possibility before he makes his mind up about anything.

“Hey,” Phil says, careful not to sound like he’s pushing.

“Hi,” says Dan. Phil isn’t looking at them, but he can hear a grin in their voice.

“I was just wondering,” says Phil. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s a sore spot or anything like that, but. Your flatmate said you were called Winnie. Obviously I know you go by Winnie online, but I didn’t know you did it, uh, outside of cyberspace.”

“Cyberspace,” Dan repeats like they can’t help themself. “Yeah, sometimes. I usually use it like a test.”

“A test?”

Dan hums. Phil wishes, again, that their hands weren’t trapped in the confines of their jacket. “For people I might get closer to. I ask my flatmates to call me something that’s clearly not masculine and see how they react and how often they slip up. Maybe it’s mean, I guess, since I don’t actually care one way or the other, but it’s a lot easier for me to open up to people who have already proven that they’re able to think of me outside of the Daniel box.”

“I can call you Winnie,” Phil offers. “If that’s what you want to be called. And I’m not a complete idiot, I’m sure I could remember to call you Dan when I’m bothering you at work.”

“Planning on bothering me at work some more?” Dan asks. They don’t wait for an answer. “No, I like Dan fine. They’re both fine. They just serve me different purposes, I guess, and I’m not bothered by either of them.”

“I don’t totally get it,” Phil admits. “But I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Dan is tangling their long fingers with Phil's. It’s just for a second, long enough for the same sort of reassuring squeeze that Phil gave to them in the Wilkins place, but it makes Phil’s heart jump into his throat.

“You’re, like, overly considerate,” says Dan. They sound like they’re teasing - Phil hopes they’re teasing. He really, really doesn’t want to mess this up.

“I just think you should be able to, like, tell me if I do something wrong.”

Dan laughs. “You’re not getting it. That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. I will tell you if you do something wrong, I just have a really wide range of things I’m indifferent about before you get to the things that matter. Call me a boy or a girl or whatever, I don’t care. Try to imply that my favourite Pokémon is fucking Goldeen, on the other hand -”

They ramble all the way to the stop, and Phil finds himself feeling better despite the fruitless hours of wandering a dusty house.

“This is me,” Phil says as he sees headlights coming down the street towards them.

“Message me tomorrow,” Dan insists. For a moment, they’re both just standing there. Phil has no idea what he’s supposed to do in this situation. Surely a handshake would be weird, but would a hug be weirder? Should he just pat their shoulder, or is that absolutely the creepiest thing he could do? They had both waved, yesterday, so maybe that’s what he ought to do again. His eyes drift to Dan’s mouth. The product is still mostly there, but there are indents where their front teeth have been digging all night that show the natural colour of their lips.

That’s not an option, Phil reminds himself with a little shake. He’s about to keep overthinking it when Dan wraps their arms around him and says something that sounds like a goodnight. They smell good, and they feel good, and the only thing that gets Phil stepping back is the sound of a bus stopping next to them.

“Bye,” he says, quiet. Dan’s smile is almost enough to make him miss this bus and wait for the next one.

#words words words #quiet on widow's peak

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observantgal · 4 years

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Spies Tied by Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Rating: Teen And Up Audience

Author’s Note: This is part of bigger story. Hope you like it! Let me know if you did. Do come back for other chapters!

Chapter-1

Chapter-2

Barnes began accommodating himself to his new space. The energy this room gave off was exhilarating for him. He always had fantasized about such control rooms, and now there he was, flesh and blood, in one of the highest tech-supported facilities. He felt electric and nervous at the same time. The first thing that came to his mind to calm his nerves down was coffee. He considered having a cup and start looking for clues.

The cafeteria was on the topmost floor. An enormous glass dome of a skylight illuminated the area with natural light and the huge hall housed several round tables with stacks of chairs in the corners. The vending and dispensing machines were installed next to the kitchen so Barnes went there directly. He stood against a table, checking his phone, while the machine brewed his coffee. A bunch of interns giggled at a table not far away and it was evident from their whispers, they were gossiping. He tried to eavesdrop when all of a sudden, a shrill voice shrieked, “Oh my God!” and slowly reduced to a murmur, “I told you, didn’t I? You guys didn’t believe me”

“Well, we didn’t think it was this serious, Charlie!” went the other.

“Whatever dude, the stats are out, and just like I guessed, the more number of cases solved successfully, for the current year, again by to the unbeatable Mr. Rogers and the invincible Ms. Carter! You will not believe this when I tell you, but I have been rooting for them from the day I started working here!”

“They truly are a power couple!”

“OMG…Yes they are! Have you seen their chemistry when they are working together?! I hope they invite us to their wedding…”

“OMG Yes! Who do you think is going to propose first?”

Barnes chose not to listen anymore, so the voices muffled on their own as he shifted his focus on the dispenser. His coffee was ready and off he went.

Later in the afternoon Carter, Romanoff and Rogers were gathered in the ‘Control Room’ to catch up with the case. They also thought it would be polite to familiarize themselves with the new guy. Romanoff being the more genial of the three started first. She said, “So, Barnes, what have you been up to?”

“I am glad you asked Ma’am!” Barnes squealed. Realizing how high his voice sounded, he toned it down and continued, “I have been running trials and tests, and assessing the security systems and the lock codes. As suspected, the breach could’ve been by someone from inside the facility. But, eliminating the off chance of remote access into the systems using permitted codes, or unauthorized access into the database, would be nothing but foolishness.”

“Like Hacking?” asked Rogers.

“Exactly Hacking” nodded Barnes. “I need a little more time to ensure which one it was that lead to the breach. But apart from that, Mr. Coulson has asked me to hand over these earpieces to you.”

“This is your Ma’am”, he said as he advanced towards Romanoff.

“You can call me Natasha,” she said, accepting her device.

“Duly noted Ma’am. Um… I… I mean Natasha. Click this button and go for Barnes. They are embedded with radio beacons. I can get your exact locations in real-time in any kind of a distress situation. Real-time maps accessed from the GPS Satellites are mapped to my system and I will be able to assist you to safety and provide all the info you might need. From tracking underground locations to finding a simple Form you might need to submit somewhere; I will be at your service.” He couldn’t believe how fast he was speaking. It was hard to contemplate whether the voluble info dump he whipped up, was because of excitement or merely the extra caffeine from earlier, acting up. He hoped with all his heart that no one noticed.

“That’s impressive Barnes!” said Carter, trying on her device.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said catching his breath.

“Keep up the good work! Also, I go by Carter”

“Thank you, Ma’am… Sorry Carter”

He looked at Rogers for a similar clearance, and Rogers didn’t miss his cue. “You can call me Steve,” he said. Rogers’ affectionate smile bore a profound sense of calm and amiability, a glimmer enough for Barnes to feel welcomed and a part of their team. His breathing returned to normal and the racing thoughts gently eased off. He nodded meekly and replied, “Okay, got it.”

The three of them tried their sets on to understand how it functioned and after a few trial checks, the ladies shook hands with Barnes and took off. Once they were alone, Rogers seized the opportunity to ask Barnes for a favor, the one he felt too embarrassed to ask in front of the others. Without wasting an instant, he spoke, “So… Barnes, since you mentioned about the database and stuff, you think you would be able to find me an easier way to handle my paperwork? I sure am very good at it, but those Records people...” his eyes narrowed in rage and lips pursed as if holding back from saying something, he continued, “they always seem to come up with these new rules. At this point I feel like they are making stuff up just to, I don’t know mess with me or something? You think you could help me out a little?”

Barnes was astounded as his eyes widened, but he managed to shift his gaze quickly before it gave him away. He scratched the back of his head and replied, “Umm… sure Steve. I… I can... I can do that. Yeah”

“Oh, thank you so much, man! Of course, I don’t want this to interrupt your work in any way, you know…” Steve shrugged while fidgeting with his device.

“Oh, don’t… don’t worry about it, Steve. It’s not a problem at all!”

“Cool man! Thank you. See you around then?”

“Yup. See ya”

Rogers pretended to examine his earpiece sheepishly, while Barnes walked to the back of his desk and pretended to work. After a few seconds, they looked up at the same time and accidentally met each other’s eyes. The gaze continued a little longer than usual, and to turn away now was too late, but so was maintaining it. Before it could get any more awkward, they smiled vaguely and nodded in acknowledgment.

Rogers ambled backward towards the door with the device in hand, roughly estimating the lowest number of strides that would bolt him out of there. So absorbed was his mind in counting down the steps, it made him overlook the fact that he was in a room with restricted space, and swaying his long hands while walking was not the best thing to do. He bumped into a cabinet knocking something off of it and tripped trying to catch it before it hit the ground. But it was too late and the damage was done. He went red as a beetroot because this had never happened to him before. And to be all fingers and thumb, though for the first time, was not an impression he was planning to make in front of Barnes. He fetched it without looking up and plopped it on a table nearby. Barnes couldn’t make out what it was but tried extremely hard not to crack up. He didn’t move his eyes off the computer screen for one second and pretended to not have witnessed any of that. After Rogers left and the doors closed, he laughed quietly until he got it all out of his system. When he was done, he let out a huge sigh and got back to work.

****

Read on AO3

The next day Coulson called for everyone to meet in his cabin, for Barnes had found out something, that he wished to share. Natasha looked badass, as usual, but also was very awake for someone who hadn’t slept for more than eight hours, in three days. Carter looked elegant, as they waited for Barnes to start. But Steve looked strained and was wearing the same clothes from last day, an indication that he spent the previous night working at the facility. Sam wasn’t able to join them as he was busy with another assignment but promised to catch up after a few days.

Coulson gestured Barnes to start and he began, “Like I mentioned yesterday, we can’t entirely rule out the possibility of remote access or hacking. If it was physically accessed at the facility, it would have been recorded in the system’s log. Also, there was no unauthorized or suspicious personnel entry recorded on the surveillance cameras.” He played a few sped-up clips from the surveillance cameras on the big screen behind Coulson’s desk. He continued, “Even if they did try to delete the log, the systems are configured in such a way, that at the least, a subtle trail will be found. I didn’t find any such trail, so we can rule out the physical access at the facility.”

Coulson didn’t want to rule it out entirely, but let him continue anyway.

“Along the same line goes remote access. The log would have recorded the access even if it was made from somewhere else because passwords were used. Which again, is not the case. So, to conclude, yes, we were hacked. But thankfully, our countermeasures were strong enough to report the breach quickly, therefore alerting everyone. The good news is, none of our data has been compromised. And with their IP address, we will be able to locate the place from where the attempt was made. But they have used VPN, for obvious reasons, and I will let you all know once I have cracked it. That’s it for now.”

Coulson seemed pretty impressed and asked, “How long do you need to for that?”

“I don’t know Sir. But I will do it as soon as possible.”

They spent around another twenty minutes over possible scenarios and other things and later dispersed. Outside the cabin, Barnes walked up to Steve hoping to strike up a conversation. He started, “Hey Steve, so about the paperwork that you were asking me yesterday, how about today in the evening?”

“Hey! Yes, that would be great Barnes! Are you sure it won’t be a trouble for you?” Steve asked clasping his hands together.

“No, no, of course not”

“Okay then, I will finish my work until then and we can meet downstairs at the Archives. How about 6?”

“Yes. Sounds good.”

“Alright… see you then!”

That afternoon flew by so fast, that Barnes didn’t realize he had spent it entirely on reading through anything and everything related to documentation until he had made it to the last of it. From rules about deadlines for submitting a report, intimating a delay in submission, to penalties for non- adherence of the same, he had gone through all of them, with the main objective of finding harmless escape clauses or ambiguities.

It was half-past five when he made it to the Archive Room. He tried breaking the ice with the staff there and handled it pretty well. As opposed to the picture painted by Rogers, he realized that these people were very pleasant and just doing their jobs. They explained to him how the filing system worked and the various steps involved in archiving, among other things. Rogers arrived at quarter past six and was greeted by a throng of interns. He was popular among them but it would be a surprise if he wasn’t. Tall, handsome, charming, smart, witty, funny, and dangerously single. He waded his way through a flood of giggles, greetings, and caresses to finally reach Barnes, who stood near a shelf, farther from the entrance, with some files in hand, and watched the drama ensue.

“Good Evening!” he said adjusting his shirt and tie. “I’m extremely sorry for being late. I had to take a quick shower and then I got stuck in the traffic…”

“Oh no! It’s totally fine” interrupted Barnes. “I was just going through these folders and stuff too. You don’t have to apologize.”

Rogers pulled two chairs for them to sit down, not far from the huge shelves, and they began talking about paperwork. Barnes explained to him in simple steps, the things expected out of him and where he’d been going wrong. The rules were recently updated and Rogers hadn’t gotten much time to catch up with the amendments and that was why he was having a problem with the records. Barnes also let him in on some loopholes he had discovered, and some common documents which were sufficient and time-saving. They were so engrossed in their discussion, buried in a pile of files, that none of them realized it was 9 pm until a staff member walked up to them and enquired if they needed any assistance.

“No, thank you. We are done for now” answered Rogers. They placed all the files back on the shelves, thanked the lady that offered them help, and left.

They decided to have dinner in a restaurant nearby. Rogers suggested a cozy place he knew and Barnes agreed. It was a family-owned restaurant, around ten minutes away from the facility. The restaurant was small, intimate, and cozy but the food was fabulous. The owner and her wife were the cooks and their children managed the guests and tables. They ordered soup, roasted vegetables, stuffed chicken breasts with a side of mashed potatoes. The meal arrived faster than Barnes expected and they started their meal.

“Thank you so much by the way,” said Rogers

“It’s totally fine Steve. I’m just glad I could help. Also don’t ever mention it”

“You’re a very kind man”

“Well, so are you”

“Yeah right,” he smirked.

“No, really Steve. I was so nervous about working in a new place and with new people… and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep ever since, without feeling anxious about the next day! I feel more comfortable now, thanks to you. I’ll probably sleep well tonight”

“What? Come on Barnes. It is quite normal to feel nervous at a new place but it isn’t worth losing sleep over it. And by the way, you are a part of our team now so don’t worry about it. I am happy that you feel okay now, but don’t ever lose sleep over little things. Also, if you need a bedtime story, just call me. I am good at making things up” he winked.

Barnes started giggling and shaking his head, then continued to eat.

“No seriously, sleep is very important Barnes. It’s like restarting your system, and clearing cache” he paused to look at Barnes, and once he had his full attention continued, “If you didn’t notice, I used computer terms for you to understand.”

“Oh yeah, I see that” Barnes nodded his head heavily, “but this coming from a guy who has a messed-up sleep schedule, works all night, and survives mostly on fast food, is quite inspiring. If you didn’t notice, I was being sarcastic”

“Wow! A comeback huh? I didn’t see that one coming. Impressive!”

“Well, what else did you think of me?” he said feeling smug.

“A genius, surely. You were a direct recommendation from Mr. Carper and that is evidence in itself that you are a genius. Wait a minute, how do you know that I work most nights, and what my eating habits are?” asked Rogers with a concerned look.

“Oh, that was sheerly my luck. I set the bait and you rose to it” he tried sounding as convincing as possible.

“Ah! I see it now” replied Rogers and grabbed the roasted vegetables. With a silly look, he pointed at Barnes and said, “But, you know what? You’re such a nerd.”

“Really?”

“Yup, you are a nerd. Accept it. When you open your mouth, all I hear is big technical words!”

“Um, I don’t need to accept it, Steve, because… I freaking OWN it. I am ‘The Nerd’. So, you eat up, Butterfingers.”

Steve let out an audibly huge gasp and retorted, “How dare you! And for the record, that was the first time something like that has ever happened. I swear to you. I have handled some really sensitive missions and never have I ever dropped something. I have no idea how that happened. Wait, what if it was some kind of a practical joke you were trying to pull?”

“Now I wish I had come with something, because I know you would’ve fallen for it” Barnes sniggered reaching over for the chicken and Rogers pushed it forward coyly. With an alluring look he continued, “But on a serious note though, you need to take care of yourself. Change your eating habits Steve, and stick to a sleeping schedule. I know work is important and everything, but you need to think about your future self too.”

“Hmm… I know where that is coming from and you are right. I need to make some massive changes.”

“Yup, it might be a little difficult in the beginning, but trust me you’ll get used to it. I did” and he shrugged.

Rogers nodded in agreement. They continued eating while having more friendly banters and talked about random things. After finishing the dinner, Rogers introduced Barnes to the owner and her family. They were a friendly bunch and told him how sweet and humble Rogers was, and how he had helped them financially a while ago. It was eleven o’clock when they finally took leave.

Barnes turned to Steve and with a dear gaze said, “Thank you for the dinner”

“You’re very welcome” he smiled with a slight bow. “See you at work.”

“Yeah, see you. Goodnight Steve”

“Goodnight”

They waved each other bye and headed back home.

***** end of Chapter 2 *****

Read on AO3

#stucky #Stucky AU #stucky fic #my fic #my writing #spy #secret agent #steve rogers x bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #My posts

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the-angriestpineapple · 4 years

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brewed & beards - ch 6

Kirishima tries to help Uraraka train when she asks, and he gets over his jealousy enough to actually become her friend.

Chapter Six - Genuine Kindness

One of Kiri’s favorite classes this semester is his nutrition class. He hadn’t been wrong when he told Uraraka the other night at pizza that nutrition was really important to him, and learning the science behind what made good food choices was fascinating. He even really liked his teacher, Professor Taishiro. The man seemed to always be eating something in class, jovially telling his students on the first day that as long as they cleaned up after themselves, he didn’t mind if they did the same.

Professor Taishiro was talking about macros and how they transfer into energy, and Kiri was totally listening, absolutely. He was only vaguely thinking about his resolution that he is unable to hate Uraraka. His mind wasn’t swarming with the petty part of him that still wants to hate her, but at the same time Bakugou has been nothing but rude to him and honestly he even seems pretty indifferent to his own girlfriend, would he really want that kind of partner even if he IS jaw-droppingly beautiful? It’s a stupid thought either way. Uraraka is a small, soft girl and I’m a big, muscular boy –

“Kirishima?”

Kiri starts and stares into the concerned face of his professor. A quick glance around the room tells him that he’s been sitting here mumbling to himself for long enough for class to have ended. Kiri swipes a hand down his face, wincing apologetically at the teacher. He’d woken up late today, very unlike himself, and barely had time to throw clothes on and make it to class on time. His red spikes take three minutes to set, not even counting the time it took him to sculpt them, so his hair was uncharacteristically limp around his shoulders.

Taishiro frowned at the boy. “Have you been feeling well, Kirishima? I’ve noticed that you were very distracted today. We do have a school nurse on campus if something is the matter.” Kiri’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head a littler harder than necessary.

“Ah, no, I apologize Professor. I’ve been distracted with some, uh, relationship troubles.”

Taishiro’s frowned deepened and he perched on the desk directly to Kiri’s left. “Relationship troubles. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, you’re an adult now. But I would like for you to keep in mind that you are here at school to learn, and to build a foundation for a career. A very promising career, if my impression of you is correct.” He smiles kindly, and Kiri feels ashamed at how much he’s been letting this situation get to him. He makes a mental note to apologize to his other professors and to Mirio as well.

“I am so deeply sorry, Professor Taishiro.” Kiri immediately stands and deeply bows. “I promise to focus on school work from now on. You’re right, I shouldn’t be letting other people affect my future like this.”

His teacher chuckles and gently pushes him to stand upright. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Kirishima, I just want to make sure you know what is important. Now head on out, and have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kiri gathered up his books and gives another short, quick bow before heading off to an anatomy class. He really needed to get himself together.

---

He spends his lunch that day in the dorm room, eating some leftover rice with canned tuna. It’s a simple meal but a very comforting one for him, and he doesn’t mind the quietness of being in the dorm without Hanta and Denki. He loves them dearly, he truly does, but sometimes a guy just needs some peace and quiet.

He blinks as his phone goes off and he looks over to it. A text from an unknown number? He balances his bowl and chopsticks in one hand as he reaches to his phone to swipe the message open.

???: Hey Kirishima! It’s Uraraka, I meant to get your number when we were all out the other night but I forgot. Mina gave it to me, I hope you don’t mind! ;^^

Kiri didn’t mind in the least, really, he was totally okay with his friends being able to reach him if they needed to. And he considered Uraraka his friend now. He quickly typed back that it was absolutely fine with a smiley face.

Uraraka: Great! So I wanted to ask if you have time to help spot me at the gym tonight – Bakugou’s working and I’d really like to get some training in. If you aren’t busy?

Kiri smiled softly. He really had to admire her drive, it was inspiring. He said that he’d be at work tonight so he’d be able to help her train, no problem. She sent back a bunch of hearts and fist emojis, and it actually made Kirishima laugh. He was actually headed there once he finished lunch, so he let her know that and quickly shoveled the rest of his rice and tuna into his mouth. He brought the bowl to the bathroom to rinse it quickly – he didn’t want the room smelling like tuna – and then packed up his gym stuff to head out. A text from Uraraka said that she also had no classes this afternoon so she could meet him there.

The gym Kirishima worked at was only a few blocks over from campus. He actually had to pass the coffee shop to get there, and he couldn’t help peering in as he quickly walked by. He didn’t see Bakugou but he did see Mina and Jirou laughing about something behind the counter. He smiled. It always made his heart warm to see his friends happy.

He arrived at the gym and waved to the employee behind the counter (it wasn’t Ojiro today) and headed to the locker rooms. He dropped his stuff in an open locker and changed from his walking shoes to his gym sneakers, already wearing what he planned to work out in. He paused in front of the mirror as he headed out and looked at himself. He wore a tight fitted tank, loose gym shorts, and his hair was done up in his trademark spiked style. He grinned at himself, his mouth full of teeth that he’d always felt were slightly sharper than normal, and flexed. He was strong and he looked good, any bro would be lucky to have him! He gave his reflection a confident nod and strolled out into the main area of the gym.

“Oh, Kirishima! Hi!” He looked over to the weight area where Uraraka was already, waving a hand frantically and beaming. He returned her grin and jogged the rest of the way to her.

“You ready to get pumped, Uraraka?” He struck a pose, his fists clenched.

“Yeah!” She punched the air, reminding him a little of Mina. She giggled. “I brought along the plan that the trainer here gave me – that Bakugou wrote all over and changed – but I wanted to see what you think too.” He accepted the paper from her and skimmed it, eyes glancing over angry red scratch-outs accompanied by blurbs that said things like ‘waste of time, do this instead’ and other completely different instructions on there. Kiri winced.

“Well, it’s not that Bakugou’s suggestions are bad…” Uraraka’s face fell a little. “The just seem to be geared toward someone who is built more like him. Or me. Not so much like you. Actually, what the trainer suggested you start with is more on point for what you could be doing. How much can you bench press?”

Uraraka’s frown turned into a proud smile. “Fifty pounds so far! I want to be able to bench, like a hundred by the end of the school year.” She punched into the air again and Kiri grinned.

“Hell yeah, we can totally aim for that! Here’s what I think you should do. Lemme get some paper and a pen.” He went to the desk to grab them, and then he and Uraraka crowded around the sheets. He carefully re-wrote what the personal trainer initially put down for the most part, altering it slightly to include the lightest of Bakugou’s suggestions and a few suggestions of his own. No reason to completely piss the blonde off when he sees his girlfriend’s altered training plan. “Do you have a nutrition plan too? I know you said that you don’t really cook.”

Uraraka shook her head. “Um, not really. I basically either eat whatever is in the cafeteria or whatever Bakugou makes. He makes really good meals though, and rarely ever eats anything unhealthy.” Kirishima nodded, ignoring his heart flipping over Bakugou being health conscious. What a stupid thing to be attracted to.

“Well I imagine whatever Bakugou makes you is probably fine. As for the cafeteria…” He started writing down food pairings, Uraraka focused completely on what he was saying, and his professor’s words from this morning rang in his head about how he could have a very successful career of this. When he handed her the completed paper, she folded it gently like it was precious and tucked it into her bag. It gave Kiri a sharp spike of pride. “Alright! Let’s see how you handle that fifty pounds on the bench and see if we can up it a little today.”

“Sure thing! Let’s go!” Uraraka jumped excitedly and hopped over to a weight lifting bench, immediately going to start putting weights on the bar. Kiri couldn’t help but feel like he was definitely in the right career.

That feeling floated him through the rest of Uraraka’s training (they got her up to 55 pounds) and home to the dorm. He walked in to Mina regailing Denki and Hanta about how Bakugou had almost blown up their chemistry lab that day. It makes him laugh, and the sadness is less than he expected. He knows that he is strong enough for this to pass.

#bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #ashido mina #sero hanta #ojiro mashirao #hagakure tooru #taishiro toyomitsu #my hero academia #my hero academia au #college au #uraraka ochaco #bakugou x ochaco #eventual kiribaku #kiribaku #slow burn #bakugou x kirishima #kirishima x bakugou imagine

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i-guess-im-a-fanfic-writer-now · 4 years

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TITLE OF POST (because tumblr is a nightmare): A better life (Chapter 16, Avengers x reader)

——

hey, so posting on the tungle dot hell website is now a nightmare because things have been changed in a very very extremely immeasurably stupid way,,, i will not be having a consistent posting schedule anytime soon

so here’s chapter 16, and if you think “this writer has no idea what they’re doing” at any point, that’s accurate, i don’t plot things, my brain just makes me write things spontaneously, and i like plants and started thinking about them while writing and obviously had to write that in

i hope you enjoy this fuckery, and if you like it, please say something or signal it to me in one way or another, i hope you’re all doing okay with life right now, and if you’re stuck with shitty relatives, you’re doing great, time is irrelevant but i hope you have a good,,, day??? time

chapter 16:

A few hours after falling asleep, you woke up. Though you did wake up with a feeling of dread, this time, you didn’t exactly wake up from a nightmare. Maybe it was just from anxiety. When you checked your phone though, there were half a dozen notifications on your phone. Peter had messaged a few times, and he seemed to be getting worried from not getting any response from you. One of the messages was your mother, again. You responded to her first, wanting to get it out of the way immediately. She only wanted to know what was happening, and didn’t care about how you were actually doing, and honestly, you just wanted to be able to stay at the Tower for longer, avoiding her as much as possible.

You pulled the covers tighter over yourself and replied to Peter. He didn’t answer, which made sense: it was dark in the room, and it seemed to be night at that point. He’d probably be asleep already.

After staying motionless in bed for some time, you got up, dragging one of the blankets with you and placing it over your shoulders and head like a cape. You wrapped yourself in it like a bat in its wings. Or like a dramatic vampire with their cape. Still in complete darkness, you walked over through the door and left the room.

The silence was so deep, you could hear your own breathing.

The thought of anyone’s reaction to you walking through the hall in the dead of night, a blanket dramatically draped over you, made you chuckle quietly.

When you got to the kitchen, you put the kettle on to make tea. After getting hot water and putting the sachet in, you went over to the wall-sized windows in the area with the couches.

There was something about this common room that was interesting during the night. You could see the stars through the window, and you were completely alone, drinking tea, looking through the window. There’s a feeling to being in a normally crowded place once it’s empty. This wasn’t eerie - in fact, it was somehow almost calming.

The sight of stars gave you some hope. Your past was.. something, but your future would be okay. You’d be okay. And you’d be with the Avengers, and Tony Stark had already proven that you could trust him with how he reacted when he found out. He was already doing things to try and help you, and everyone else here had been nice to you so far.

*Maybe I do have a chance,* you thought, *at happiness. Maybe I’ll have a family that doesn’t make me feel like shit. Even though we’re not actually related by blood.*

You walked over to a couch that faced the window and lowered yourself into it.

You opened your eyes to see the light of the rising sun shining onto you. You didn’t remember putting your tea mug on the floor, or falling asleep at any point. The room was still quiet, and you thought no one would be there.

When you got up, after grabbing your already nearly cold mug, you noticed Clint was up early for some reason. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air and he say on the kitchen counter, his head in his hands. You approached him. The coffee machine was still going. It was a miracle it still worked, really, with how much he used it daily.

You put your mug on the table, and touched his arm lightly to attract his attention so you’d be able to converse in sign language.

“Hey.. you know that if you have a headache, you probably shouldn’t be drinking that much coffee, right?

“Oh, Y/N, hey! What’re you doing here?” He looked even more exhausted than he did usually.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m tired. You?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and you briefly smiled at each other.

“So, why are you out? You been here all night?”

“I’m not sure, actually? I just woke up at some point. Came here. It’s nice at night, you know?”

“Yeah, it is.”

After a long pause, you started to turn away from him to go to your room with your mug, but you noticed him signing before looking away.

“Care to share what’s been bothering you?” After seeing your confused expression, he continued. “I mean, your reaction to me asking about your family when Tony dragged us over to have food. I haven’t forgotten that, you know. Your face does that thing when you get taken by surprise by something. Your reaction to Tony grabbing your arm. To touch in general, really. Wanda and Pietro mentioned you seeming off the other day.”

You stayed silent as a knot formed in your stomach.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“It’s okay.”

He shook his head and got off the counter.

You hesitated, watching him get closer. “My relatives can be intense. That’s it.” You started fidgeting with your fingers.

”Explain.”

You were the one to shake your head this time.

“Are you being hurt?”

There was a slight pause.

“Stop.” Your heart dropped, and the last thing you wanted was to seem rude, especially to Clint, who taught you so much since you got here, who spent so much time with you, but this was just too much.

He stopped pressing, and you grabbed your mug and left the room in a hurry, hiding in yours immediately.

*God, now he knows. I’m so stupid.*

It took you a few minutes to calm yourself down at least a bit, and then you picked a book off the shelf behind the couch in your room. You started reading, though you were having a hard time concentrating on the words on the pages because of the signed conversation you just had with Clint. What would he do now that he knew? Maybe he’d go to Tony and ask him what to do, and he’d tell him to not force it, that he knows, that he’s doing something to change your situation. Or maybe he’d go talk to Wanda and Pietro and tell them. Maybe everyone would find out. Did everyone already have suspicions about it?

*I’m sure as hell not going back out there.. guess I’ll have to wait and see what happens... I really hope he just tells mister Stark and no one else.*

You let out a sigh accompanied by a small “aaaaaa” noise, trying to release some pent up anxiety, and then immediately flung yourself onto the side of the couch in front of the tv in the room, sitting up on the armrest like a gargoyle, remote in hand. You turned the tv on, settling on a gardening channel after a few minutes of clicking and looking around.

“Maybe I should get some plants in my room”, you whispered to yourself.

A few minutes of staring emptily at the screen while thinking convinced you: you need houseplants. Well, for your room. This led to you questioning whether anyone else on the floor has plants in their room. Plants can be really helpful, because when you have a really hard time taking care of yourself, taking care of something that isn’t you can be helpful. It gives you a reason to keep going. Plants are usually easier to care for: when something’s wring, they show it, and it’s relatively easy to determine. And plants make the air better.

*Maybe everyone here should have at least one plant*, you thought.

Somehow, once you came out of your thinking, an hour passed.

You left the room, having completely forgotten the conversation you had with Clint earlier, now fully distracted by the one thing on your mind: getting a plant, or several plants. Probably several. And asking Tony if anyone had a plant. Maybe to suggest every person should have at least one.

You went to the kitchen, trying to find Tony. Thor and a pasty white man whose hair fell to his shoulders were having an intense conversation, standing beside the kitchen table. You walked closer to them, unsure yet determined to get what you wanted. Thor quiets down and puts his hand up in front of him, prompting the other man to go quiet after following Thor’s gaze, which was now upon you.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you?” He smiles.

“Hi, I’m okay, you?”

He replies positively, which lets you ask your question.

“Do you know where Mister Stark is? Also - this might sound weird - but do you have a plant in your room? Like, here. At the Tower. You know.”

He looks puzzled, but goes with it. “I think he’s down at his workshop place? In the basement, perhaps? If not, he might be in the lab, with Bruce Banner. I don’t have a plant, why do you ask?”

“Thank you! Oh, I was just, I, um, I was watching a gardening channel, and then remembered that plants better the air quality, and - you know, plant things, and stuff”, you finish off your sentence, fearing you’d be unable to continue without talking about plants for half an hour, and not wanting to bother him with it.

The dark haired man stared at you in disbelief, probably offended you hadn’t mentioned his presence. “Sorry, I noticed you, I’m just thinking about plants, and if I get distracted right now I’ll get distracted for the rest of the day and completely forget what I’m thinking, and if that happens, I’ll remember it in the dead of night and that would be a disaster for my already freestyle sleep schedule”, you addressed him.

He raised his eyebrows as an amused expression appeared on his face. “Y/N, is it? Loki. Of Asgard.” At this introduction, you mumbled something along the lines of a polite *nice to meet you*. “So, Y/N, tell me, where might you be from? Although, no, go find Stark and talk about... plants? But later, I want to get to know you. You wouldn’t mind that, would you? We’ll have a nice chat.”

Thor looked at him and then you, with a face that could only be described as the reaction of someone being presented with a bad idea.

You did a quick, awkward thumbs up, not knowing exactly how to answer to any of this, and quickly walked over to the lift, pressing the button and leaving the floor as the two men resumed their animated conversation.

You’d decided on checking in for Tony at the lab first, since it was quicker to get to there than to the workshop, which was all the way down and then some.

He wasn’t there, though Bruce Banner was. The two of you met before, but never actually had a conversation: he was in a quiet, reflective mood when you first met, on the first night you stayed in the Tower.

After a short conversation and him focusing really hard on his scientific research, he said something along the lines of “see you later”, and you took that as your time to leave, still in search of Tony.

You went down to his workshop, finally getting there after a few stops on random floors where people got onto the lift. You were super uncomfortable, not sure how to react to strangers, so you just didn’t react, keeping your gaze to the floor and staying in the corner.

There he was, staring intently at a piece of a new suit, looking to be deep in thought.

You softly knocked at the door to the actual workshop, hoping it would get his attention. When it didn’t, you pushed the door ever so slightly, trying to communicate without intruding too much. That’s when he noticed you, and he seemed as if he had just come out of a sort of trance.

“Oh hey, Y/N, listen, I’m having a problem with this suit, been standing here practically frozen for an hour pr two, not sure, time barely happens here, you mind helping me with the execution an idea?”

You agreed to help and he immediately started describing the problem to you. Though you still couldn’t take your mind off of plants, you tried to help out, and at some point while you were speaking about a way to make his idea possible, he whispered “ah-ha! precisely, thank you!!”

A few minutes later - a few minutes that passed by as you stood awkwardly and Tony asked his robots to hand him instruments and other objects - he was done with one part of the idea. He suddenly turned to you.

“So what’s up? What’s got you going all the way down here?”

“Yeah, okay, so, um, this might sound weird or stupid, but-“, you started.

“Nope. Impossible. Because I’ll most probably be curious. Weird is the best. Go ahead, with what you were gonna say, but please don’t say that something you’re thinking is stupid, right? It’s all good.”

“Okay... right, um, so, I was thinking - I was watching a gardening show, and it got me thinking - plants!”

He nodded.

“Um, I, sorry, I’m kind of, uh, I don’t know”. You take a slight pause. “Words aren’t working right because I just really like plants and sometimes it gets difficult to express what I want to say and the words just don’t go to my brain, and right now it’s because I’m... I’m not sure what emotion this is but it’s like, the opposite of frustrated, though I am frustrated with myself for my inability to communicate, and I’m sorry because now I’m rambling and I’m gonna stop for a minute or two and gather my brain.”

You take a deep breath, later noticing Tony is smiling.

“That is such a mood. Take your time. Happens to everyone. I think. Maybe. I don’t know, actually. Right, plants. What about plants? Oh! Do you want plants? In your room?”

Your face lit up. “Yeah! That. Like, the benefits plants can bring to the air quality and health in general, be it physical or mental, they’re pretty cool, and I, um, I was thinking, maybe everyone should have at least one plant in their room? I don’t know. Like, plants!! You know?”

“Hell yeah!!! We could definitely do that, might help some people, right! Do you have any suggestions? Like, plant suggestions?”

The part of you that’s practically completely obsessed with plants starts rapid-fire listing off names of plants with enthusiasm, prompting Tony to react in a “whoa whoa wait” way, which is perfectly understandable. Sometimes you can’t even keep up with how quickly your brain might be going. Other times, your thinking is painfully slow and everything is boring. It occurs to you that brains are incredibly weird.

You continue listing plants, speaking slower this time, but still with a whole lot of enthusiasm. He seems to take all you say into his brain, trying to remember it.

“Do you want to go right now?” he asks suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“Do you want to go right now? Plant haul. Let’s get these plants. In the similar fashion of saying “let’s get this bread”, you know. So do you want to go right now? To the plant stores.”

“I’d love to!!!”

“Fantastic!!! Let’s go!!!” He walks over to the door, exits, and holds it open for you, and then the two of you reach the lift.

“Nat’s a cactus with a pink flower on top”, he casually states, with a hint of humour in his voice, as the doors of the lift close. You smile.

#avengers x reader #avengers x abused reader #avengers x reader fanfic #avengers x reader fanfiction #avengers x abused reader fanfic #avengers x abused reader fanfiction #avengers fics #avengers fanfics #avengers fanfiction

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vegetacide · 4 years

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Cloak and Dagger

Veg●notable: Okay, I had a little fun with this and took a few liberties with one of the boys… It worked for I wanted but I am not sure how it will be received... ::ducks behind a Tracy so she doesn’t get hit with anything...::

Also I am kinda being a pantser with this chapter.. I have a general idea of where I want it to go but I didn’t suss it out like I have in other chapters so please excuse if the pacing if off. I kinda let the Boys tell me where they wanted to go and what sort of interactions they wanted to have….and they may have gone a bit off course..

As per the norm.. All errors and such are my own.

Read, review, like, reblog.. Whatever the platform, it is very, very much appreciated and it all acts as my motivational fuel.

Previous Chapters

Intro | One | Two

Chapter 3: Games

Enjoy!

o0o

Scott drummed his fingers along the careworn surface of his father’s desk, his gaze lost to the middle distance as he thought over the information that had just been brought to him. Not that there was much, which was the problem in and of itself.

Kayo and Lady Penelope had had very little to tell him. After Fuse’s botched attempt at the old, disused power plant to obtain nuclear material he’d just up and disappeared. Their security expert and London agent had been traipsing around the globe trying to track down leads for weeks now but there was no sign of the Chaos member, his sister or for that matter the Hood… anywhere..at all.

For the Hood on his own, it wasn’t that unusual. The criminal would go quiet for a spell and not resurface for months. Now that he was with the Crew, that was an entirely different story.

Normal some tidbit of information would crop up of a sighting in some far corner of the world, or a rumour of some heist or another would drift about on the dark web. Either Lady P would poke at it to figure out if it was worth further effort or Kayo would get a call from the GDF to check with some contacts but everything had gone silent. There was nothing, no where.

Scott looked up at the muted holo-cast. A variation of the same headline scrolled along under the chrome anchors’ desk and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. This eerie feeling of foreboding had been dogging him since the plant and he just knew this wasn’t going to end well.

Picking up an old school stylus that for some reason his father had kept even with the advent of modern computer interfaces, Scott examined its length. His father had owned it for as long as he could remember. He’d once asked Jeff why he insisted on keeping it and his father had smiled in that way he did and had said that ‘somethings were just worth keeping.’ He hadn’t elaborated in any other way or given any other hint to his reasoning after that. It left Scott scratching his head in confusion.

Even now all these years later he still didn’t understand though as he looked at the smooth finish and felt the weight of it between his fingers, he could understand its appeal. It provided something tangible to hold on to, tactile.

In his case not only physically but it also provided him with a psychologically connection to the man they all missed so much. A man he truly wished was with them right now.

Maybe the great Jeff Tracy would be able to wrap his head around all this, come out with a master plan so at the end of the day the world was a better, safer place. Scott certainly didn’t think he had the chops to do it himself. Self doubt was a bitch especially when there was no supporting hand to guide you.

His father was going to come home, Scott knew that for sure. WIth Brains basically locked away working on the zero-x engine it was only a matter of time. Scott just hoped that when they got their father back…. Why was he even thinking about this? Setting the stylus back down, he rubbed at the back of his head in hopes of dispelling the direction of his thoughts. This was not helping.

Snagging his forgotten cup of coffee, he took a swig and grimaced. Cold and it was the good stuff from Virgil’s hidden stash behind the lima bean in the pantry. Eyeballing the drink with its thin layer of cream film on top, he sighed and tossed the rest back. It was too much effort to haul his ass downstairs for a fresh cup, besides his brother would kick his butt if he were to find out he knew of the existence of the rich, smoky ground beans and had wasted it. Better to just suck it up and deal with the cold brew then risk the engineer’s wrath.

“Thunderbird 5 to base.”

“Hey John,” Scott greeted with the raise of his now empty coffee mug. “What’s up?”

“Just letting you know Grandma is on approach. Will be there in t-minus 5”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

John nodded in return and they sat in silence for a moment. By the controlled look on John’s face Scott could tell that the monitor was working up to say something more. Leaning back in his chair, he cocked a foot over one knee and steepled his fingers as his brother processed whatever it was that was on his mind.

Scott didn’t want to push but time was ticking. “Johnny….?” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname would get the ball rolling.

John’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the moniker but the redhead let it slide. “How’s it going down there?”

Scott dropped his hands, pushed up to his feet and walked the short distance to the sunken seating area. “As well as can be expected.” Taking the steps down he parked on his usually couch with a heavy sigh. Sinking into the cushions with a slouch and tossing an arm up and over the back.

“That sounds...” John paused as he searched for the appropriate word, “to steal a phrase from Alan.. craptastic.”

One shoulder went up in a shrug and Scott dragged in a deep breathe. “Ya, well. Shitty situation but you know how these things go. Time and space and all that.”

“Time and space?” A smirk settled on John’s face. “This coming from you. Eos mark down the time and date. Scott is being reasonable”

“Time and date noted, John.” Came the young voice of the A.I. “I have also taken the liberty of recording this interaction for posterity in the likelihood that you want to revisit the momentous occasion.”

John chuckled as the light ring came into the view field of the camera. The array of little lights flashing in what Scott could only conclude as amusement at his cost. The A.I was learning and learning fast and Scott didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Hardy har.” A dry sound, accompanied by an eye roll. “Am I really that bad?”

The stare and awestruck look he received by way of answer should have been enough.”Aw, come on…”

“If smother hen was in the dictionary, Scott. You would be the picture beside it.” It was said rather frankly and that irked Scott into yet another eyeroll. “Matter of fact, it might actually already be in Urban Dictionary..”

“Okay. Okay..I get it. Enough already.” Scott’s boredom and disdain at the direction of the conversation wasn’t hard to miss. “I can’t help it. I worry about all of you.”

John took pity on his elder brother, the smile leaving his face. “I know you do, Scott. Especially when it’s Virgil.”

Scott sagged further into the couch.

“We all need to fall apart every now and again. The same applies to Virgil.” John spoke, his voice carrying across the distance. “As much as we rely on him to be the family rock, even a rock wears down over time when enough stress is applied.”

“Ya, I know. You’re right.” Scott leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he looked at the floor. “I just wish…” He didn’t finish his train of thought.

“Scott, he’ll be fine. Just give him the room to breath and in a day or two he will be right as rain again. He needs to stew this over a bit.” John shifted his gaze away from the cam, his projected hand skimming over something off screen.

“Well from what Brain’s has told me, Virgil has him doing system checks on all the wash-bays. Maybe an answer will be there for him.”

“You talked to Brain?”

“Yes, just before calling you. He wanted me to look at some computations. Double check his math and he didn’t want to bother Virgil with it” Floating about the space station some 22,000 kilomitres above them, John glaced backup a moment. “Why? Haven’t you talked to him?”

Scott sat up a bit straighter, sheepishly ashamed that the yelling the night before had sent the mousy genus into hiding in the bowels of the island. “Not since we got back..”

“Oh,” John failed to hide the nonplussed expression that flashed across the screen. “Glad I was off world last night than..:”

“Jay, you’re always off world”

John couldn’t say anything to counter that and Scott knew it. The star obsessed Tracy rarely made landfall and Scott tried to think back on how long it had been since the astronaut had been forced to submit to some down time.

“Scott, you’re getting that look in your eyes again.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I need to smother’ look that comes with the forehead wrinkles of the elderly.. Don’t you dare set your sights on me. I am needed up here with full access to all of 5’s systems and you know it.”

Scott put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to have another sibling forcibly shutting him out. “Message received and watched the old person jokes. They are laugh lines not stress.. The hair though, that’s all from you guys.”

John looked off camera again and his expression changed from brotherly bemusement to curious. “Aunt Val is reaching out. I’ll patch her though.”

Scott cursed under his breath and ignored the admonishing glare from space. Seemed he hadn’t sworn as quietly as he thought, good thing Gran….

“Scott Bartholomew Carpenter Tracy!”

Scott flinched at the sudden loud bark of reproach directed his way as his Grandmother marched into the room, fire and brimstone in her wake. “You were not raised in a barn, young man.” Crap, his diminutive elder was not impressed, especially if she broke out the little known and seldom used ‘Bartholomew.’

He was the only brother out of the five to be graced with the additionally middle name, gifted to him as the first born from his great, great Grandfather. A Tribute to a war vet that his father had been blessed with as well and one that made Scott shudder every time he heard it.

“Well technically… “John piped up earning him a warning glare from Scott.

“Gee John, thanks for the warning.. “ Scott grumbled with little enthusiasm and dripping with sarcastic annoyance.

“I did,” John blinked.

Scott contemplated several ways to seek revenge over the tirade of the fierce and feisty Sally Tracy and most of them involved airlocks and a module full of moldy bagels.

John did his level best to hide his smile at the misfortune of the eldest. “I told you she was on approach and you know she has the ears of a bat, Scooter.”

Scott glared at the space nut but all he got in return was a very large grin before the monitor disappeared and the 3D rendition of his Godmother materialized.

“Colonel Casey” Scott acknowledges, his Grandmother patted his knee in greeting and settled down on the couch beside him, the vexed look still sparking in her cerulean gaze.

“Valerie,” His Grandma piped up. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”

“Scott. Sally.” A crisp, formal acknowledgement. Definitely a business call.

The tone made Scott straighten his spine, posture ramrodding as his years of military training kicked in. Pushing to his feet, the Commander of International Rescue took up the forefront of his mind. The dilemma of the current Tracy drama brushed aside as the call to arms; so to speak, was issued by his honorary Aunt’s projected persona.

“What can I do for you, Colonel Casey?”

“Orders come down the pipe, Scott. General Abner informed me this afternoon that World Council has declared Kazakhstan a no fly zone. All personnel, both combative and civilian are on evac orders effective immediately. As of 23:00, anything in or outbound found crossing restrictive airspace will be termed hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“And as our liaison..?” Scott asked, bracing for the answer that he feared.

“I’ve been advised to inform you that the restriction extends to International Rescue as well. Under no circumstance is International; Rescue to enter that airspace. Any action will be seen as an act of aggression against the WC and those perpetrating said act are to be shot down.”

“Noted.”

“Scott, you need to abide by this ruling. This is from way up the food chain. There will be nothing I can do to help you if these orders are disregarded. “ Casey stressed. “You will be on your own.I’ve also been instructed that anyone aiding and abetting is to be brought in and prosecuted under the full force of the law.”

Meaning, the whole family would be under threat and the whole might of the GDF would be pointed in their direction. Even though they claimed no allegiance to any known entity, International Rescue and by turn the Tracy’s would be marked as traitors “I understand Colonel.”

Essentially the country has been walled off and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He just hoped that there would be no call out for iR in the vicinity of the damned country but he knew from experience hopes and wishes were very seldom taken into consideration.

-o-o-

Some 6,500km away, tucked under a remote mountain village on the furthest edge of Kazakhstan a display monitor beeped to life with the flow of garish, green text. Servos hummed, fans ticked on and a smile crept across the harshly angled face with amber eyes.

Piece by piece plans that had taken months to arrange were finally starting to come together. Money had passed hands, people had been bought, information exchanged and like pawns on a chessboard, the players were shifting into their places.

Looking at the board, the queen slipped into place and unbeknownst to all but one, the king now sat vulnerable. The end was in sight.

Let the games begin.

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfic #Virgil Tracy #Tanusha Kyrano #Kayo Kyrano #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Lady Penelope #Pen and Ink #Grandma Tracy #Colonel Casey #Cloak and Dagger #international rescue

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sabraeal · 5 years

Text

We Seek That Which We Shall Not Find, Chapter 2

Written for @vfordii’s birthday....almost two months late. BUT THIS TIME I HAD A REALLY GOOD EXCUSE.

Chapter 1

Sunlight glares through the gaps in the blinds, slanting over the popcorn ceiling, and for once, since -- since everything happened, Shirayuki opens her eyes and knows exactly where she is.

Even more surprisingly, she doesn’t mind.

That’s not to say she doesn’t miss it, that even as she stares at the knobby plaster she isn’t wishing that it was tented hangings tacked over exposed rafters, that it was soft light filtering through the high window and shimmering curtains. She does, and a part of her always will, but --

But she can trade the scent of bacon and cedar and attic must for the vanilla and spice coming from the kitchen now, for the grassy smell of green tea brewing. For today, at least.

Glass jars clink open and closed, metal spoons swirl against ceramic lips, and she -- she gets up. For the first time in forever, it feels easy.

There are some things that she won’t be getting used to, not any time soon. One is how there is no longer a whole house between her and the kitchen, so when her door creaks open, Busha’s waiting, eyebrows lifted over the rim of her mug, arms crossed over the formica top of the galley’s bar.

“Well.” She sets the cup down on the counter, mouth twitching at a corner. “Someone is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning.”

It’s such a normal thing to say -- such a Busha thing to do, waiting to waylay her in the kitchen like this -- that she nearly forgets they aren’t back home, that this isn’t just every other weekend morning since she’s been a baby. Not until she sees how Busha’s eyes don’t quite settle on her, until she realizes that it’s only the creak of the door that let her grandmother know she was there at all.

“Mm,” she hums, aiming for positive but also noncommittal. Even still, Busha makes that knowing look, and even if it’s only directed in her general area instead of at her, it’s still annoying.

Shirayuki sighs, ducking into the kitchen. It’s only to be expected; when a boy invited a girl over in Busha’s day, they might as well have announced their engagement. So of course her grandmother assumes this is -- is romance, that after seventeen long years, Shirayuki finally likes a boy. She doesn’t even know his name, but Busha is already picking out china patterns, already planning out their Saturday date-nights and how he’ll come to dinner on Sundays, how they’ll go to colleges geographically close to each other and visit on long holidays and how he’ll propose the weekend of their graduation, all done up in their gowns and summa-cum-laude tassels. There will be a small, sweet wedding a year later, probably in a barn somewhere out where she grew up, and maybe even great-grandbabies --

Normal stuff. The kind of things Busha imagined for her mom, back before Mom went off and -- ah, well, had her own...less thought-out plans.

Busha starts her own humming as she bustles around the kitchen, almost unbearably pleased with herself, and Shirayuki would like to -- to straighten this out, to point out that her and Zen barely even talked as themselves last night --

But there’s no way to explain that her good mood isn’t because of Zen, that it isn’t because she kissed a boy or because she had a good night with her crush, but that -- that --

That for four hours, she was Lynet. Lynet, whose talents border both science and magic, who makes tinctures and casts spells and whose sister is trapped in their ancestral castle with an evil knight-slash-sorcerer, but at least her problems are fictional. They can be fixed.

“Where’s JaJa?” she deflects, plucking a muffin from the cooling rack. It’s still warm in her palms; she bobbles it to keep from scalding herself as she peels back the paper wrapper. The vanilla scent is even stronger now, and she can catch cinnamon and orange too, melty cranberries peeking out enticingly from the sides. “Is he still asleep?”

Busha’s mouth rucks up, annoyed. “No. He’s down around the corner for coffee.”

Shirayuki coughs into her muffin, glad her grandmother can’t see her grimace. Around the corner is Busha’s way of avoiding saying McDonalds, which is apparently where a bunch of the vets from the VFW meet every week. Ostensibly it’s some sort of coffee-cum-social-hour thing, which Shirayuki likes the sound of on paper -- after all, JaJa needs to have friends here in the city too -- but...

But she’s also not naive. If anyone misses the smell of bacon in the morning, it’s JaJa, and she has her suspicions that his friends might also be dodging the watchful eyes of wives and grown children. After all, she doubts that they’re all ordering salad, no dressing off the breakfast menu.

Busha isn’t stupid either, but she’s also not one to hurl accusations. Until she finds him with a receipt for a sausage and egg McMuffin with extra bacon, she’s happy to pretend he’s as faithful to his diet as he is to her.

“Oh right,” Shirayuki mumbles around a bite of cranberry goodness, taking the mug of green tea her grandmother holds out to her. “It’s Sunday.”

“He should be on his way back soon.” Busha settles against the counter again, smiling over the rim of her cup. “It looked like you enjoyed yourself at that...game of yours.”

Shirayuki nods, practically shoving muffin in her mouth.

“I hope you thanked that Wisteria boy for a good time,” she tells her archly. Busha clearly doesn’t think she spent four hours on a particularly rousing game of Parcheesi. “You were over there a long time.”

A full mouth saves her from having to give an answer, at least. Between four-hour make out session with a cute boy and four-hour shared fantasy adventure, Shirayuki has a good idea of what Busha would prefer to believe was taking up her time.

“I will,” she chokes out around a swallow, because well -- she’s not wrong. She should thank the Wisteria boy.

Just not the one Busha is thinking of.

Hey.

Shirayuki blinks, and behind the lids of her eyes, the letters are tattooed there in white, teasing her with their strokes and loops. It’s been -- she tilts back her head, looking at the garishly red numbers on her alarm clock -- two hours, and all she has is -- is this. Hey. Three letters she’s been staring at for so long that they’ve begun to lose all meaning.

And -- for the twentieth time -- she deletes them. Who even says hey anymore?

Everyone, probably. Shirayuki groans, dropping her head into her pillow and just -- counting. Counting probably will help. She read that somewhere, maybe. Counting and breathing.

What would really help would be knowing how to do -- this. Texting like a normal person. Having friends like a normal person.

Not exactly something she’s ever had to do before, growing up where everyone had landlines and the only places she could possibly be after school were home or one of the three houses within walking distance that had kids her age. Hanging out hadn’t required a phone, just...walking down the ramble between their houses and making sure you didn’t twist an ankle in a gopher hole.

But she lives in the city now, where people have wi-fi and kids get kidnapped or something, and at the ripe old age of seventeen years old she’s supposed to know how to -- to use all this.

The first time she texted Kihal she’d written everything in a single block of text, like an email, and been promptly told she sounded like her fifty-year-old aunt.

That is not the impression she wants to give Izana Wisteria, whose house lights respond to vocal command.

With a steeling breath, she lifts her head, and scrolls back in their chat history. It’s one of the longest she has; a couple of times she actually has to scroll and then wait for it to load. By the time she gets to the beginning, she’s feeling -- steady, emboldened.

It’s fine; she can do this. She has done this. She just needs to see how she even started this whole conversation and --

Shirayuki, I presume This is Izana Zen told me you were interested in trying out tabletop

Her head drops. This is impossible.

SOS I need help

is it boy stuff?? tell me its boy stuff

no?

lie to me and tell me its boy stuff

I mean, there is a boy? but it’s not like that?

okay good enough proceed

is hey a good way to start a conversation or is that weird?

Shirayuki sets her phone down on the bedside table, settling back against her headboard. She doesn’t -- she doesn’t need to stress about this, not like she has been the last few hours. She has plenty of homework to get ahead on; she can just...set this all aside for a minute, let Kihal get back to her. It’s not an emergency --

She springs for her phone the second it buzzes.

i mean its pretty standard, she writes, and even though Kihal isn’t sitting here, talking, Shirayuki can hear her voice going flat, dubious. is this for flirting purposes or does this have to do with your weird nerd thing.

its not a weird nerd thing. Shirayuki grimaces. Lots of people play D&D now, it’s not just -- just a nerd thing. but I wanted to thank Izana for letting me play.

jsyk this is the most wholesome and nerdy thing you have ever done and i approve of you sticking to your aesthetic like this.

Shirayuki frowns. I’m being polite

i know i love it

She sighs, flopping into her pillows. This would all be easier if she got herself into normal situations, the kind she could just use google to navigate, but there’s no WikiHows for roleplaying. Or, well, this kind of roleplaying. She’d checked, just before she had to look up how to delete internet search history.

She doesn’t even know if she should say anything. Maybe D&D is a...a Fight Club sort of situation. The first rule about non-sexual roleplay is that we don’t talk about non-sexual roleplay. See you next Saturday.

It would at least explain the lack of, you know, literature.

i think you can say hey, Kihal replies, finally. zen should have given you a primer on this or something

Her hands clench. Zen.

She’ll have to see him tomorrow.

And be normal.

She groans, throwing her pillow over her head. She not meant for this sort of pressure.

oh come on its not like he can judge he plays as a fantasy prince or whatever which is just like him btw i should have known that’s what zen wisteria does on weekends

I can still be weird somehow I shouldn’t talk too much about it but then does it seem like I’m not interested? I like playing Lynet

you are def worrying about this too much zen may be stratospherically rich but he’s an okay person or whatever im sure he’ll be cool

I’m way more worried about being the weird one

lol but wouldnt it be funny if zen turned out to be the weirdo? maybe he’ll want you to call him MY LIEGE omg

oh my goodness it would be Your Highness but oh my goodness

your pedantry is noted MILADY

There’s no reason to think he’ll be weird about it, really there isn’t.

But she can’t think of anything else as she stares up at her ceiling, tracing where the streetlight slots through the blinds.

lol what if he calls you LADY LYNET in front of like teachers, Kihal had written with an almost manic glee. what if he thinks lunch is like the ROUND TABLE omg this is too good

he didn’t before, is all she had to say, and even then, she knows it isn’t enough.

THAT YOU KNOW OF lol, Kihal replied. She hadn’t said much more on it, not until they’d said goodnight and she’d added, with an emoji that Shirayuki couldn’t help but feel like was a little too indulgent, have fun with your knight in shining armor

Shirayuki groans, rolling over. This is -- this is a tomorrow problem.

Hi. It’s Shirayuki. I just wanted to thank you for hosting this weekend I had a lot of fun

It’s while she’s watching the bare brick of her neighborhood give way to the smooth clapboard of the suburbs that she decides: she’s just going to pretend like nothing’s different. Sure, she now knows that Zen and Kiki moonlight as kingdom-saving royalty on the weekends, but -- but it’s not like that has to change anything. There’s no reason for her to assume things will be weird or -- or different, not until she’s there and it’s happening.

Her resolve lasts until her feet touch the pavement, until she sees the bronze lettering of Abel Wisteria High School stretch over the archway, and then --

Then her knees go jellied, heart fluttering a mile a minute. Maybe, if she manages to survive today, she can just convince Busha they need to move again.

Her thigh vibrates, and it takes her a long minute to realize -- her phone.

Glad to hear it

Shirayuki stares for a long minute, trying to reconcile her nerves with -- with this. Izana Wisteria texting her in the full light of day.

It was unexpectedly refreshing to have a new player I trust I will be seeing you this Saturday?

She shuts her jaw with a click. Izana -- he wants her to -- to --?

She’s being invited back. Not just as a polite end to the session, but -- but --

The phone nearly flies from her hand as someone shoves past her, and she realizes right in front of the bus drop off is probably not the best place to be having this conversation. She just has to get to class and --

She grits her teeth. She just has to get to class, and manage to be normal with Zen and Kiki too.

No problem. She -- she can text Izana Wisteria now; she can do anything.

Hopefully.

“Shirayuki”

Every hair stands on end at the sound of that laconic voice, and not for all the nice reasons it usually does. This is it, the Bridge to Terebithia precipice; this all either leads to adventure or tragedy, and she never wanted to swing across the ditch to find out --

“Shirayuki.”

Her head swivels, and Kiki is looking as perfect as she always does, jeans tucked into tall socks tucked into boots, every button on her plaid shirt in its appropriate hole in a way Shirayuki has never managed. The hand she’s raised lowers back down to the desk, no hesitation or self-consciousness in the movement, just -- the surety that she’s been seen and her attention is wanted.

She turns back to Zen, and Shirayuki just -- wishes she could be Kiki for a day. To know what being that confident was like.

And it’s that that gets her legs moving, that makes her take the swing, sliding into the desk right in front of her. Kiki spares her a glance, a friendly smile tilting her lips, and Zen --

Zen looks like he might faint.

“Hi,” he manages after a long moment of working lips. “How was your --? You had a good --?”

He coughs, reddening under Kiki’s flat stare. “There was a weekend?”

“Yes?” she tries, wincing as her voice squeaks.

Kiki lets out an amused huff, folding her arms under her chest. “Zen want to ask if you had a nice weekend.”

“Oh.” She blinks, swiveling her neck toward him. “I see.”

“But he’s also aware he pretended to be King Arthur in front of you,” Kiki drawls, feet kicking up on the book rack under her chair. “And he doesn’t know if that was too weird for you.”

The tension rushes out of her all at once, and she smiles, relieved. “I had a great weekend.”

Zen’s face splits into a boyish grin, his cheeks pink. “Good. I mean, great. That’s great.”

“I’m glad we’ve gotten all that out of the way,” Kiki interjects, flat. “Maybe Zen can stop considering a last minute transfer to prep school.”

His head whips toward her, betrayal clear on his face, but -- but Shirayuki’s just so relieved that things are normal that she only laughs, only smiles and says, “I had a lot of fun. I hope I did okay?”

“Lynet was great,” Zen rushes to assure her. “Though I still think Gwenhwyfar would have been --”

“Boring,” Kiki supplies with a smirk. “It was a great call to make a character with both offensive and supportive casting -- after all, we’re all sort of...”

“Physically inclined?” Shirayuki offers. She doesn’t know exactly what all the classes do, but even from one session, she can tell whatever magic the rest of the party uses is generally for making them hit harder and better.

“That’s a gentle way to put it.” Kiki grins. “I’m looking forward to your quest, too. We’ve just been gallivanting around doing fetch quests for the past few months.”

“It’s for the people,” Zen mutters, a prince to the hilt. “It’s important.”

“Of course it is,” Kiki replies with no conviction. “But it’s about time we got something meaty.”

YES sorry autocorrect yes, I’ll be there on saturday

The enthusiasm is appreciated

I’m not imposing am I? I know I came in with a quest I don’t want to take over the game

Not at all No need to apologize for bringing in plot I admit I had been...concerned about the balance of the game A new player can upset the dynamic of a party But my fears were clearly unfounded

Oh...good

You and Obi fit in just fine

Her hands freeze over the screen. Obi. She hadn’t -- hadn’t forgotten about him, of course, not when Lynet spent a whole scene rolling around with his tiefling on the floor of her lab. It’s just -- just --

Even looking at his name makes her skin feel tight, makes her heart beat hard in her chest. And she...likes that.

Have you coordinated with Obi for this weekend? Izana asks, like -- like they’re some sort of unit. He told me you’re on the way. There is no need for you to take a bus.

Her fingers hover uncertainly. um not yet

Let me give you his number, Izana says, taking away her excuse before she can even think it. I look forward to seeing you both this weekend

She stares at the ten digits and bites down on a scream. Great, she manages. thanks

“Hold up.” Kihal’s palm waves in front of her face. “I’ve had to hear all about your nerd night insecurities re: the trust fund twins, but you’ve never mentioned cute college boy?” She sits back with a huff, arms folded over her chest. “I thought we were friends, Shirayuki.”

She wishes her skin were like Kihal’s; at least then she might have a chance of covering up the blush working its way up her neck. “I didn’t say he was cute.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kihal nips the phone from her hands, thumbs scrolling lightning fast. “Because if he wasn’t cute, you would have mentioned him before, but now you are freaking out about sharing air with him for like, tops ten minutes, so not I know he is.”

“It’s fifteen minutes,” she protests lamely. “And he did try to kill my character. He might be a jerk.”

“But still cute,” Kihal counters with a shrug. “And he already drove you home, so you know he’s not some asshole.”

“Well, yes,” she allows, hesitant. “I just don’t want to -- to inconvenience him or anything. He probably has better things to do than cart around a high schooler.”

“First, he’s going to the same nerd thing you are, so no. Second --” she drops the phone onto the table -- “doesn’t seem like it.”

hi its Shirayuki pick me up @7 on saturday?

def

She can feel the blood draining from her face. “What --?”

“Do you think he knows I mean the nerd thing?” Kihal wonders aloud. “Maybe I just got you a date.”

“That’s --”

“Man, maybe I should join your nerd night,” she mutters, leaning back on the bench. “Zen’s brother is hot too, right?”

SOS SOS SOS I don’t have anything to wear

wear? i thought this was just nerd night not a DATE

it’s not but i should wear something appropriate

what like a robe and a wizard staff or something

. . . .

i thought college boy isnt cute so it doesnt matter what you wear

it’s not about Obi being cute

oooooh so he IS cute nice

focus please its just Zen’s house is REALLY nice

omg what like the dress code is white tie by default because he’s got money

no it’s just intimidating there’s marble in the foyer, Kihal they say it foi-yay

this is like the best info I’m gonna say foi-yay a dozen times to wisteria on monday but seriously im sure whatever your wearing is fine you dress like a cute little elf naturally

is that a compliment?

if ur going to ur nerd night it is

“Shirayuki!”

She nearly drops the phone at the pound of Busha’s knock, fumbling it midair until it lands squarely in her palms. “I’m here!”

“So is your friend,” she says in that pointed tone Busha thinks is subtle. “He’s waiting.”

I gotta go, Shirayuki texts, shoving the phone into her bag. he’s here

She sprints into the kitchen, but it’s far, far too late -- Busha and JaJa are already at the door, all smiles, crowding Obi. Who looks...nice.

She’s only met him the once, but there was something about the baggy band t-shirt and torn jeans that seemed -- like him. Something in the way he slouched around in them like a second skin, kicking up his thick-soled boots on the chair across from him, like it probably didn’t cost more money than either of them had ever seen at once.

But he’s not wearing that now. Tonight he’s -- polished, button-down over a thermal shirt, non-ragged jeans, hair looking like a brush might have been briefly introduced to it before he went out the door --

It looks very...date-ish.

“Didn’t have to drive too long, did you?” JaJa is asking, tugging on his sleeve to pull him further into the apartment.

“Have you eaten yet?” Busha may not be able to see like she could before, but she can scent skinny boys. “We still have some kielbasa and cabbage on the stove. I’m sure you could have some while Shirayuki --”

Shirayuki stomps on her boots in record time, snagging a metal tin off the counter. “I’m ready!”

Obi startles, gaze jumping from Busha to her. His eyes go wide -- it’s got to be a trick of the light, how gold they look -- and he rounds his shoulders, the smallest bit.

“Hi,” he manages with a smile she might consider shy, if it wasn’t on him. “You -- you want to get going?”

“Oh, but surely you can stay for a little bit,” Busha insists, stepping aside so he can see into the kitchen. “I made cake --”

“SURE,” Shirayuki says, far too loud, pushing past her grandparents with a warning look. “I don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Obi ducks his head, letting out a bark of a laugh. “Yeah, I think Izana feeds people who make him wait to the koi out back.”

She blinks. “They have koi?”

He grins. “Oh boy, you don’t even know.”

The only thing she needs to do in a car is sit, but even still, her body doesn’t seem to know what to do near Obi.

Her fingers wrap tight around the tin in her lap, the rolled metal lip digging into skin. She’d been doing well the walk down, looking at the google earth photos of Wisteria Manor Obi pulled up on his phone -- there is a koi pond, and even though she denies it, she really wouldn’t put it past Izana to feed some guests to it if they annoyed him thoroughly enough -- but now that they’re in the car, something...changes.

It’s like standing in front of the eel tank in the aquarium; she can feel the charge to air, like there’s something right on the cusp of happening but she doesn’t know what it is, won’t know what it is until -- until --

“What’s that?”

A long finger taps the lid of her tin, ting ting ting, and lightning zings down her legs, leaves them wobbly against her seat.

“Um,” she hums, trying to put her feet flat against the floor, trying to ground herself. “It’s -- cookies?”

A laugh huffs out of him, his eyes rounding. “Wow, trying bribery this early in the game? You that worried about your chances?”

“No!” she yelps, clutching the rim until the rolled lip leaves divots in the creases of her fingers. “It’s a host gift! It’s -- it’s polite.”

His teeth bear down in a grin. “That’s precious.”

She can feel the heat on her face, knows she’s burning from ear to ear and probably from chin to hair as well. “It’s not!”

His eyes flick over to her, and in the dark all she sees is gold before he turns back to the road. “Okay,” he says, insincere.

Her lips press down, a bulwark against her impulse to explain herself, to tell him this is the way she was raised, that she doesn’t understand how everyone here thinks of customary politeness as something -- something cute and rustic. Something exceptional.

That’s not really small talk material. She barely knows him. He doesn’t need all that -- that baggage from her, not when he’s doing her a favor.

She sneaks a glance at him from the corner of her eyes, taking in the brushed hair, the nice clothes.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, ducking her head.

His head swivels to stare at her for a moment. “What? Why?”

“For, you know.” She waves her hand nebulously behind them. There’s no graceful way to say for interrupting your date. “Back there.”

Narrow eyebrows arch toward his hairline. “Oh. Don’t worry about it.”

She grimaces. Sure, he can say that, but it’s not like --

“It’s cute.”

She stares. “Excuse me?”

“Your grandparents,” he clarifies, starkly reminding her of the embarrassing circus by the front door, how Busha had tried to feed him -- “It’s cute. Them seeing you off.”

“Oh,” she sighs, trying desperately not to sound mortified. “Yes. That. Great.”

His eyes slant toward her, eyebrow cocked. “Was there something else?”

“I just...” She bites her lip. “I only mean that -- that I’m sorry you had to come pick me up.”

His brows furrow. It’s hard to tell in this light, but for a brief moment, illuminated by streetlight, she thinks she sees -- uncertainty. Maybe even something like regret.

“I mean, I’m grateful!” she assures him. By the dubious look on his face, she doubts it’s helping. “But since you were coming from -- from --” your date -- “somewhere.”

That makes him blink, make his eyes round in surprise. “Coming from somewhere?”

“Yeah.” She gestures at him, trying to encompass the whole...look. “You’re dressed up really nice.”

It’s not like she knows him well, and Obi’s skin in that sort of copper tone that makes sorting out this sort of thing difficult, but --

There’s some pink up on his cheeks. She’s almost certain of it. “I -- I always look like this.”

It’s not like she can really say with any authority how he dresses typically; aside from tonight, she’s only seen him the once, but -- but there was an easy casualness to the way he wore his torn up jeans, work boots crossed over at the ankle; and these clothes --

Well, it looks like someone’s got a rod down their spine. Or maybe -- a book perched on their head. Some reminder of what good posture looks like.

“But last week --”

“I was in a hurry.” His shoulders round over the wheel, making his voice little more than a mumble. “I dress nice all the time.”

She knows her mouth is hanging open, just slightly, but words are jockeying for place on the tip of her tongue; things like, I don’t think you’d say ‘dress nice’ if that was your normal.

“Ask anyone,” he snaps, defensive. “I do.”

She’s not sure what makes her want to prod at him like this, but she’s ready to, ready to tease him about how only Izana knows him, and he’d never spill his secrets unless it benefited him in some way, but she’s interrupted by the looming gates of Wisteria Manor. Obi leans out, getting them buzzed through, and by the time he’s back in the car the moment feels...gone.

It’s fine. Maybe she can suggest Beaumains gets a change of outfit too.

“What’s that smile for?”

She startles, twisting in her seat, right into where he’s leaning inquisitively over the center console. “Oh, um...”

It would be rude to tell him that she was daydreaming about how to tease him. Also, she seems to have misplaced her ability to word good getting so close to his grin. “I just...like smiling?”

He lets out a huff of a laugh as he turns away, throwing the car into drive as the gates clang open. He says something as they pull away, but something happens in the vicinity of the engine, a grindy clunking that sounds like gears failing to catch for a solid second, and she can only just make out, “...trouble.”

Her instinct is to open her mouth, to protest, but --

But instead she settles back against the seat, leaning her hand casually against her chin. Trouble.

“--do you really think I’d make bombs without some kind of protection?”

All she can picture is sharp, white teeth. “You are the most interesting woman I’ve ever met --”

Maybe it would be all right to be trouble. At least for him.

The Wisterias have a valet for their guests -- Obi argues with him on the veranda, reluctant to hand over his keys, even if it’s just to a well-loved Honda that probably saw its best days when Clinton was president -- but it’s still Izana who greets them at the door, polite smile firmly in place.

“Are those cookies?” he asks mildly, after inviting them to take off their hoodies, though he doesn’t readily provide a location to which they’ll go.

“Yes!” Shirayuki pipes, hunching her shoulders over the tin. “I thought -- it would be polite?”

Izana takes the tin as if he half expects it to explode. “I didn’t expect you to be the sort that resorted to bribes.”

“It’s not!” she sputters out, clapping her hands to her cheeks, wishing it could keep them from burning. “I just -- it’s a host gift.”

“A host gift,” Izana echoes softly, staring down at the snowman on the top. She probably could have found a less...festive box, but at the time, she’d thought it seemed friendly. “How lovely.”

For a moment, they all stand awkwardly in the hall. Then Izana glides into movement, gesturing to the hall beyond with a hand and nod of his head.

“Come on then,” he says, tucking the tin under his arm. “We’re just about to start.”

Shirayuki slips in front of him, headed toward the basement door as the boys fall into step behind her. They lag behind, just slightly, but not so much that she can’t hear Izana remark, “I didn’t realize you had plans tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Obi returns, cagey.

She can hear Izana’s eyebrow raise. “You’re all dressed up.”

She shouldn’t laugh, she shouldn’t, but --

“This is how I always look!”

She covers it with a cough, barely.

“Oh,” Izana says, so mild. “Of course. How silly of me to forget.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #Dungeons & Dragons AU #my fic #ans #there is a stunning lack of actual tabletop play in this #but Shirayuki is absolutely one of those people who would spend a weekend worried #that maybe she was weirder than the people who have been playing Arthurian Knights flavored D&D for the past three years #also you may all rest assured #that obi spent nearly an hour trying to decide what to wear #and probably texted torou like a half dozen times #wondering if looking nice was too much #and Torou spent the whole time laughing at the fact that SHE'S SEVENTEEN OBI #you spend YEARS telling me you don't want to date ever #and then decide you want to date the one girl YOU CAN'T DATE #IT'S NOT THAT I WANT TO DATE HER TOROU I JUST THOUGHT MAYBE I SHOULD LOOK NICE #torou: uh-huh. SURE

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