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justfranzz · 7 months

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A Ledge and the Sun

Ledge Gorman wasn't special.

Everyone knew that, most of all him.

His name wasn't really Ledge - it was Shawn. When he was sixteen years old, feeling insane with anonymity, he climbed out the window of his high school science class and walked along the concrete lip that jutted out of the wall.

His science teacher yelled at him to come in. His classmates, who didn't know his name (no one ever remembered his name), just watched.

Gray Meder smiled, punching another student in the arm and taking the two twenty dollar bills that were reluctantly offered. "Told ya the pushover would do it."

Shawn reached the edge of the lip. His fingers dug into the cracks in the brick wall, blood leaking from his fingertips where the skin scraped off.

His science teacher was still yelling, sounding almost in hysterics; he threatened to call Shawn's parents, call the cops, fail Shawn in the class, something.

Shawn gazed down at the ground below. He was only on the second floor, and the sports equipment shed was right below where he perched. It was only about a seven foot drop. He'd survive for sure, just might break a bone or two if he landed wrong.

Logic didn't make him any less terrified.

He glanced back one more time. He saw Gray's cocksure grin, the way the boy casually flicked his hand as if to say, Go on. Do it.

Shawn took one deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped.

For a moment, he felt like he was flying, like the wind had swept under his armpits and lifted him into the sky. For a moment, he was a leaf, swirling and dipping and rising with the breeze, making the world his plaything.

Then he was falling.

Too late, much too late, Shawn realized that he had jumped too far. He was going to miss the shed entirely.

His foot just grazed the tin roof of the shed, jerking his ankle to the side at an odd angle.

Hot asphalt raced up to meet him.

Sharp, lancing pain as his arms shot out to brace his fall.

Hello, the asphalt said. So nice of you to join us. Won't you stay a while?

His head slammed into the black tar, and he was out.

When he woke up in the hospital, they told him he had broken his right wrist and three of his fingers, fractured his radius in two places, twisted his ankle, and gotten a mild concussion to boot. Everything hurt. For the first time, at sixteen years old, Shawn thought, I want to die.

His father picked him up. They didn't speak the whole car ride home.

When they arrived, his father spoke, his voice a harsh whisper. "Don't ever do something so foolish again," he said, eyes firmly locked on the front door, unable to look at his son.

His stupid, un-special failure of a son.

They didn't speak of it after that.

Three days later, when he returned to school, Gray slid a five dollar bill across the desk to Shawn. He stared at it for a moment, flexing his unbroken fingers, trying to ignore the aching pain that had wrapped itself around him like an old friend.

"You said twenty."

"Oh, did I? Must've changed my mind." Gray leered at him, greasy hair plastered to his forehead. "You didn't jump far enough, Ledge Boy."

No one remembered his name after that, either. He became Ledge, the crazy kid who had jumped from the second story for a measly five bucks.

They were right, he thought, staring out the window. He was a ledge. He wasn't a person. He was a decoration, just another brick in the wall, held together by glue and mortar.

He felt some kinship for the ledge he had jumped from. We're the same, you and I. See your cracks, there - look, we match. And he thought of the x-rays they had shown him in the hospital, the splinters and cobweb cracks in his bones. He was just another old, forgotten piece of concrete, forever fading into the background, never to be noticed.

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Two years later, at eighteen, Ledge was rejected for the first time. Her name was Mary Crosh. She had short dark hair, striking green eyes, and freckles like a constellation across her skin. Mary loved history, and she had a mind like a whipcord, quick and always ready to strike.

She did it gently, kindly - she had always kind of seen him as a brother - it wasn't him, she just didn't have time for a boyfriend right now - they could still be friends if he wanted? - he seemed sweet but she just didn't feel the same - it just wasn't the right time - maybe after they graduated…

Ledge wished she had been cruel. He wished she had taken the heart he offered and thrown it to the ground, spit on it, crushed it beneath her heel. Then, at least, he could hate her, could resent her; then he could say, "I dodged a bullet on that one! She wasn't worth liking at all."

Lying curled under his blankets at three a.m. that night, dried tear tracks heavy on his skin, Ledge thought for the second time in his life:

I want to die.

Two weeks later, when he walked in on her making out with the quarterback of the football team, Ledge lost a little piece of himself, a piece he would never get back.

But he knew, he had always known, that she would reject him. That she would end up kissing some football player.

Because he was Ledge. The kid who nobody remembered except for jumping out of a window, and even that was forgotten eventually. The kid who was as un-special, as anonymous, as generic and forgettable as anyone can be.

He was as lovable as the concrete ledge just outside the window, and every bit as cracked and broken.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Mary wanted to go to Southern New Hampshire University. They had a good history program, she said. She wanted to be a history teacher.

Ledge would be a teacher too, he decided. He would go to SNHU, and maybe he would have classes with Mary, and maybe then the time would be right. Maybe then she would love him.

There was lots of history in architecture, after all, and he was the oldest piece of walking concrete he knew.

She wouldn't love him. Not now, not after he got a degree, not ever. He knew that. But he didn't know where else to go. Bricks of concrete don't have dreams. Support beams don't make goals, cornerstones don't join clubs, wooden floors don't have career plans.

He didn't care much for kids, didn't know the first thing about teaching, but he could learn. He had to learn. He had nowhere else to go.

So he would follow Mary, and he would become someone who was more than architecture, and if she never noticed him that was fine, at least he would have a clear path. At least he would have a goal. At least he would have a degree and a job.

He looked up guides for writing college applications, pretended he knew what he was doing, that he was a normal high school kid applying for a normal school with normal hopes and dreams.

With an anticlimactic click of his mouse, the application was sent in. He let out a quiet breath, slumped back in his chair, stared at the little box that said "submitted."

He was a ledge, he was a shitty college application, he was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room, he was a forgotten, half-drained can of soda.

Ledge turned off his computer monitor and went to bed.

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A week before his nineteenth birthday, Ledge got a letter in the mail from SNHU. He opened it with trembling hands, the scars from his once-broken fingers itching with adrenaline.

Dear Mr. Gorman… Thank you for applying to Southern New Hampshire… we regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you… this year's selection has been competitive… cannot accept every applicant… honored that you considered us as one of your choices… respectfully…

Ledge didn't cry. He just tossed the letter in the garbage, all of his hopes and dreams going with it. He packed a duffel bag with his clothes and some of his favorite books, grabbed his phone charger, and left.

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At nineteen, he got his first job.

Working as a convenience store cashier all night - the graveyard shift paid better - no one else was willing to work it - reading whatever books he could get his hands on by day - cleaning his uniform at the laundromat - sleeping in his car because he couldn't drag himself up the stairs to his apartment - he dreamed of a shed he had missed once - maybe he could have fallen in love with it instead - green eyes and freckles haunted him - then he was waking up, putting on his uniform, going to guard the pretzels and the Coke Products and the shitty cheap sandwiches.

After three months, they hired a new guy, one who was willing to work the night shift. They didn't talk much at first, but there's not much to do for eight hours straight while the rest of the world is busy courting their dreams.

His name was Ben, and he was twenty-three, and he always smelled like cigarette smoke. They quickly found out that they were nothing alike. Ben was someone special - he played in a band, not a big one but they made some money from shows, not enough though, that's why he worked here, he had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to, but he didn't have the money for a ring or a wedding, that's why he got the second job.

Ben talked a lot. "Momma says I came outta the womb talkin'," he would say in lieu of an apology. "Jus' up n' babblin', right from the start. Ain't never been able to shut me up since."

After a few days, he finally asked.

"What's up with your name, kid? Didja get 'Ledge' from your momma, or did it find you?"

Ledge didn't answer. Ben waited in silence for a few minutes before a wordless agreement passed between them. The older man jumped into a story - something about a duck and a can of spray paint - seamlessly, as if the silence had never happened.

Ben didn't ask any more personal questions after that.

They spent their nights like that - Ben talking all night, Ledge just listening.

It saved him, in a way, all of the words. At first they were just that - words. But slowly, over months, they built up a little hearth in his chest, warming him from the inside. Ben was like the Sun, giving and giving and giving every day and never taking anything in return. He never expected anything back, didn't even expect Ledge to listen most days, and his carefree warmth restored something in Ledge that he had lost when he was sixteen years old.

For just a few hours every day, stuck in that cold, unforgiving convenience store, Ledge relaxed. He was no longer an impersonal slab of concrete, a pothole on the side of the road, a decrepit stop sign on an upaved back road.

For exactly eight hours, Ledge was a person. He was a boy, he was a book nerd, he liked the color red, he missed his father, he wanted to be loved, he wished he had gone to college, he wanted to play sports and be a jock and have sex and get married to a woman with a whipcord brain.

For the first time since he jumped, Ledge thought, I don't want to die.

The first time Ledge laughed, Ben froze, just for a split second. He jumped right back into his story as if he'd never stopped, but he didn't even try to hold back the huge grin that stretched across his face.

They became sort of friends, after that. They hung out after work - Ben would smoke a cigarette or five and talk about his girl, Delilah, and Ledge would just sit and listen, imagining short dark hair and green eyes.

"You can't even get it, until you've seen 'er," Ben would say. "She's somethin' else. Taller n' Mount Everest - six-foot-three - legs that go on forever, I mean forever, you could look at 'er for ten years and never get to the bottom - kisses like lightnin' man, lightnin' - don't even get me started on the sex - I'm gonna put a ring on her finger n' love her forever - I'd give 'er every star in the sky if she asked…"

Then, a month and a half later, they broke up.

"I was gonna propose, but she said she wanted to talk before I could. I thought, 'It's okay, I'll tell her after. S'prolly somethin' about the vacation we were plannin'.'" He paused, sniffled weakly.

"She wanted me to leave the band," he whispered, seeming dim for the first time since they had met. "She said she needs me to stay in one place. Wants t' settle down, for good. Says she can't handle me bein' on tour all the time, always bein' away from 'er… she even thought I was cheatin', man."

For the first time in the six months they had known each other, Ledge saw him cry. Not nice, pretty, quiet tears; ugly, sobbing cries that wrenched right from his heart and out his chest.

"I loved 'er," he gasped, face twisted like he was in unbearable physical pain. "I still love her. I wanted t' build my life on her, man. I wanted to give her everythin'. But… she… she asked for the one thing I can't give. I can't leave the band. Those guys are my family, man, they're my whole world. She asked me to choose between my heart n' my lungs, and I just couldn't do it."

They sat in the back for another hour like that, Ben crumpled in on himself like a withering flower, Ledge just sitting next to him in silence.

Finally, Ben grew silent, too exhausted to cry any more. He gazed dully at the polished floor beneath them, fingers running over the ring he wore, the one he had almost given to his heart.

"Thank you," he murmured into the space between them, red eyes meeting Ledge's. He nodded, opened his mouth, closed it. He didn't know what to say.

"My name is Shawn," he finally said. Ben sat up a little, and Ledge bit his lip, trying not to look at him out of the corner of his eye. If he thought too hard, or moved, or looked at the man next to him, he would lose his courage.

Ben waited.

"I jumped out of a window. Second story. I was in tenth grade."

Ben blinked, fingers stilling on the ring. "You- what? Why?"

Ledge pressed his lips together, reminding himself that it was okay, this was Ben.

"I… was desperate." He sighed harshly, and suddenly the words were bubbling out of him, and he couldn't stop. "My dad doesn't love me. He never has. Or, maybe he did when I was little, but he doesn't now. I wanted to be noticed. I wanted someone to remember me.

"This kid, he was stupid, it was stupid, he bet me twenty bucks I wouldn't jump out of the window. I… I thought my father would talk to me, if I did. I thought he would punish me, at least. So… I climbed out on the ledge outside the window and I jumped. That's- that's why they called me Ledge. It… stuck, I guess. Maybe with me most of all."

He told Ben about flying, and about Mary, and about how he was a ledge and a pothole and everything else, and about Southern New Hampshire University, and about not being able to cry, and about everything else he could think to say. By the time he was done, he felt full, like somehow instead of leaving his mouth the words had tunneled backwards down his throat into his chest.

Ben was quiet for a bit, before he offered a small, genuine smile. "I don't think you're a ledge, man. For what it's worth. I think you're a person."

For the first time in three years, Ledge cried. Ben cried again too, this time for his friend, wet sobs that sounded almost painful.

Ledge silently thanked whatever god may or may not be out there for giving him the Sun, for giving him this bright, warm friend who didn't care that he wasn't special.

As they cleaned up at the end of their shift, Ben sighed. "I'm gonna quit here," he said, staring down at the mop in his hands. "I was only here for Delilah… jus' to save up for the ring n' the wedding. I stayed here longer than I was plannin' cuz, well. You're here."

And he offered up another smile, the barest glimmer of his usual radiance shining in it.

"But now, I mean… I just don't got any reason to stay longer."

Ledge was silent for a few minutes, just taking this in. He had always known Ben would leave eventually. He was going to leave from the start. It was like he had said - he was only there to save for the ring.

Ledge sighed. Why was he still there? He had enough saved up to move to a better part of town, get a better job. But… he didn't want that. Not really. There was nothing waiting for him there but more work, more sleepless nights, more of being a ledge.

But still, maybe it would be better than staying here for the rest of his miserable life, rotting in one place like an old, forgotten tomato.

"I'll probably quit too," he murmured aloud. Ben stilled, looking very thoughtful for a moment. He continued to mop, slower now, every stroke full of intent.

"How would you feel about joining my band?" He offered it casually, like it didn't matter, like he didn't care what the answer was. The set of his shoulders gave him away, poorly concealed tension revealing what he wished the answer would be.

Ledge blinked. "I- me? Join a band? I can't play a kazoo to save my life."

"You wouldn't have to play! You could be like a sort of… manager. Our last one jus' quit recently, n' we've been lookin' for a new one. Are you any good with numbers?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then you'll do fine! You'll jus' be manager in name, we'll do all the heavy liftin'. You can live in the studio with us - little building we bought last month, a bit cramped but it's home - and we'll give you a cut of every cent we make, can't always promise consistent payments but by god we'll pay you when we can - you can work a second job, all of us do - if you want you can help us get new gigs, you look like a good persuader - you can stay with us as long as you want - I don't have no one else but you now that Delilah's gone… please, Shawn-"

The sound of his old name, so foreign to him now after so many years, struck Shawn somewhere deep inside him, in a place he didn't even know existed anymore. He stood in silence for only a moment more, weighing the pros and cons, seriously considering the offer.

"Alright," he finally said, watching Ben's face light up like a light bulb. "Okay. I'll join. Where do I sign?"

Ben jumped into the air, pumping a fist with a loud "WHOOO!" The mop clattered to the floor unnoticed, forgotten in the excitement.

Shawn found the man's enthusiasm contagious, and soon they were grinning at each other madly, already making plans to pack and move Shawn's stuff to the studio.

"We're gonna make it big, man," Ben said, shining like the Sun in mid August. "I promise you, we're gonna make it. We're gonna live like kings, man. And everybody's gonna know our names."

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When he was twenty-one years old, they got their first major gig. They had survived so far on playing at small bars and open mics, taking tips where they could, even busking on the street when things got really thin.

Shawn found that he rather liked being the band's manager. Organizing the schedule was soothing for him; he had control over something for the first time in his life. Working out the financial side was easy too. The numbers never lied, even when they were depressing, and math had never been a struggle for him.

After two years of raising awareness - passing out flyers, creating a social media page, and taking whatever openings they could - Where We Were finally, slowly but surely, began to pick up more followers.

In May, Shawn opened the email he had created for the band. He made it a habit to check it at least once a day. Usually the page was depressingly empty, but today, there was an email from an address he didn't recognize - "bhrofficial." Curious, Shawn clicked on the message.

As he read through, he felt his heartbeat quicken. It couldn't be real. It couldn't. They only had two thousand followers on their Instagram and Twitter accounts, less than that on Spotify. There was no way it was real.

Please be real.

A few minutes and a quick google search later, he was rocking back and forth in his chair, unable to stop the smile that split across his face.

"Benny," he called urgently, shooting up from his chair. "Benny, you gotta come look at this. Ben!"

The older man ducked into the room, holding some old equipment. "Hey man, what's up-?"

Wordlessly, Shawn moved aside and pointed at the computer screen, practically vibrating with nervous excitement. Ben carefully set down the equipment, then bent over the table to read.

His jaw dropped open just slightly as he scanned over the email. He looked to Shawn, eyes wide, disbelief etched across his face. Shawn just nodded excitedly, lost for words.

"Is it real?" Ben whispered, as if afraid speaking too loud would make the email magically disappear.

"Yeah, I checked the website and that's their official email. It's real. We have a real gig."

They just grinned at each other for a moment, filled with excitement that had nowhere to go. Then, Ben was hugging him, and he was hugging back, and then they were spinning around the room in a crazed dance, laughing wildly.

"We got a gig!" Ben shouted. "Oh my god, we got a- I don't even-"

He took Shawn's face in his hands, kissing him soundly on the lips. Shawn could only grin up at him in response, and then they were dragging each other out of the room, racing to the kitchen, yelling for the other members.

Over the time they had lived together in the studio, things had changed between them. It had happened slowly but surely, the space between them shifting from friendship to brotherhood to… something else. They hadn't put a label on it, hadn't talked about it, but they both knew it was there. This wasn't the first time they had kissed - Ben would get excited, overwhelmed with emotion, and it would just kind of… happen.

The first time, Ben had immediately frozen, looked guilty and a bit afraid. But Shawn had laughed, and leaned in to give him a tentative peck in return, and Ben knew it was okay, that they were okay.

For the second time in his life, Ledge had thought, I don't want to die.

Ever since then, it was almost routine. Shawn found that he looked forward to it every time, found himself hoping for it.

He expected to have a crisis over his sexuality, but it never came. He liked Ben. Loved him, even, maybe. That was all that mattered. He didn't care what it meant or didn't mean about him, because it was Ben, and he was the Sun, and he was warm and soft and kind and messy, and Shawn was just grateful that he got to love him.

The rest of the band knew about it; it was hard to keep something like that secret when you've lived together in close quarters for almost two years. They'd never officially announced it, never put it into words, but somehow Shawn just… knew. A well timed pat to his shoulder told him he was accepted, a fist bump and a slap to his back said that he was a part of the band, no matter what, always and forever.

"We got a gig at the Blue Hill Resort," Ben said excitedly, hands constantly moving from his hips to the air in front of him to Shawn's shoulders, unable to stay still. His energy was contagious; soon they were all laughing, slapping each other on the back, cheering.

"How soon?" Jane, the drummer, asked. She was a thin slip of a woman, but she could knock a grown man flat on his back in ten seconds. Shawn had quickly learned to both respect and fear her.

"Three weeks."

Abu whistled, long and low. "That's a bit tight. We'll have to rehearse every day… but we should be able to make it."

Abu was tall, built like an ox, with broad shoulders and big hands. He played the bass with surprising precision and tenderness, rarely ever missing a note.

Abu was the oldest of the group at thirty-five. Once, when he was nearly passed out drunk, he told Shawn that he didn't have anything left except for the band. All of his dreams were spent, too far out of his reach, left behind with his twenties. This group, this family, was all that was left for him.

"We've got it in the bag," Mark jumped in, flexing his fingers in anticipation. He could draw sounds from a keyboard that Shawn never knew existed - odd, discordant notes somehow blended together into eerily beautiful harmony. "We're gonna blow this out of the park!"

"We'll have to decide what songs to play." That was Drea - best rhythm guitarist in New Hampshire, Ben would always say. She was always the most focused of them all. She kept them on track - without her, they probably would have fallen apart ages ago.

"I, uh. I actually wrote a song… if- well, I was thinking maybe we could have it on the roster?"

All eyes turned to Shawn, surprise written on most of their faces. Only Ben was unaffected, having known about the secret project for a while.

"S'good," he commented, slinging an arm around Shawn's shoulder. "I give it my vote."

Abu grinned. "It's settled then. Show us this new song of yours, kid."

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Shawn took a deep breath in, let it out slowly. This was it. This was the day. They had practiced like mad, twice a day for the last week straight, but he didn't feel the slightest bit prepared. He wasn't even the one going up onstage, but he could feel knots forming in his stomach like balls of lead, heavy and cold.

Ben clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a confident smile. "We're gonna knock them offa their fuckin' asses, man. Jus' you wait."

Shawn didn't feel even a bit less anxious, but he smiled anyway, leaning up to kiss Ben softly on the cheek. Ben froze, flushed - Shawn had never initiated before.

"For good luck," Shawn whispered, unable to hold back a smile.

Ben rubbed the back of his neck, flustered, then rewarded the kiss with a blindingly bright smile. "Yeah."

"C'mon, lovebirds, we gotta get set up," Jane drawled, leaning against the wall with a teasing smile. The two sprang apart, and she laughed heartily.

"You go on ahead n' sit in the audience," Ben said, giving him a look that said everything they didn't have time to put into words, probably couldn't even if they did have time. "We'll take care of everythin' back here."

Shawn nodded, hoping Ben could see the response in his own face. The older man smiled softly, and he knew the message had gotten across.

He found his seat in the front row and prayed to whatever was or wasn't out there that they would do well.

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It was a huge fucking success.

When the band finished their song roster, the crowd cheered wildly, calling for not one but two encores.

Finally, Ben had to take the mic, waving a hand for the crowd to quiet down. "S'been a pleasure playin' for you all, but I'm afraid our time's up-" the crowd booed loudly- "I know, I know, I wish we could stay too! But we gotta go. Thank you, we've been Where We Were. Have a great night and stay rockin', everyone!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening, noise that felt like it shook the room all the way up to its rafters. Shawn cheered along with them, winding through the surging crowd to the backstage area, meeting the band there.

Ben kissed him on the lips, right in front of everyone, and Shawn kissed him back. He didn't even care if the backstage techs caught them. He didn't care about much of anything but Ben, at that moment.

They stumbled to the dressing room, the rest of the band still putting away the equipment and rolling their eyes at the two, and then they were pressed against each other, kissing, and it wasn't like before, it wasn't a quick stolen peck in the studio, it was hard and hungry and real. It said we fucking did it, it said I love you for forever, it said a million other things they couldn't put into words.

Shawn smiled, he couldn't help it; and then they were both grinning, far too wide to keep kissing. Shawn laughed, feeling light and free and alive.

"We got lucky, huh?" He said, curling his hand around the back of Ben's neck. At the questioning look sent his way, he continued, "that your previous manager quit when they did. Otherwise, I never would have joined the band, and we never would have ended up here."

Ben smiled, the mischievous kind of smile you give when you have a secret.

"What?" Ben just kissed him again, and Shawn laughed, pulling back. "Benny, spit it out, what is it?"

"We never had a manager." He had the conscience to look at least a little sheepish, but mostly he just looked proud.

"You- what? But you said-"

"I needed you to join the band, man, I didn't know how else to get you to say yes. And it wasn't entirely a lie! We had talked about hiring someone for the position before, we had just... Never found the right person. Not until you."

Shawn lightly punched Ben's shoulder, giving him a faux look of disapproval. It only lasted for a moment, though, before they were both bursting out laughing, too high off of their victory to stay serious for long.

Then they were pressed against the counter, and Ben was tugging on his shirt and kissing his jawline and murmuring, "is this okay?" and Shawn was nodding, because it was Ben, of course it was, and he'd been waiting for this for so, so long without even realizing it.

Shawn's shirt was halfway off, Ben's lips on his neck, when there was a knock on the door, and Abu called in, "All decent in there, kids?"

"Finish this at home?" Ben asked, and Shawn wanted to say you are my home, but he knew what Ben meant, so he just nodded and touched the older man's face gently instead.

And Ben laughed, and said yes, get the fuck in here, Abu, and he pulled Shawn out with him past the ox who played the bass, and out of the dressing room and through the halls and out the front door, all the way to his car.

They got in, Ben laughing and Shawn crying a little because they had made it, god damnit they had made it, and in the agreement with the Blue Hill Resort they were promised seven thousand dollars, and Shawn had a future, and he knew where he wanted to go and who he wanted to go there with.

They were still laughing, and flirting, and celebrating when they pulled out of the parking lot. Shawn decided to be brave, decided that Ben was worth it, so he put his hand tentatively on the older man's thigh.

Ben looked surprised for a moment, and then he was smiling, and he was looking at Shawn like he was the only thing in the world, and he didn't see the semi barreling towards them, the tired driver who didn't process that he was drifting into cross traffic until just a few seconds too late.

Ben was smiling, and then he was lurching to the side as the semi hit just behind his door, and then the windows were shattering and his head was hitting the dashboard and then they were rolling, and Shawn's vision was blurring, and he was hitting the pavement all over again, black asphalt coming up to say it missed him, and where had he been, and why had he waited so long to jump again?

And suddenly he was sixteen again, with a broken wrist and broken fingers and a fractured arm and a concussion and a sprained ankle, and he was back on the ledge, and he had never really left, he had been there ever since the moment he climbed out of that window, and Mary was telling him the timing wasn't right, and SNHU was sending him a cold, impersonal rejection letter, and then he was lying in a ditch in a mangled car, his seatbelt digging painfully into his ribs.

Ledge forced his eyes open. Everything hurt. Something smelled like it was burning, but he couldn't think, couldn't tell what.

He managed to tilt his head sideways just a little, earning himself a sharp jolt of pain.

Ben lay sprawled over the steering wheel, a large shard of glass from the shattered windshield punched through his right eye and out the back of his head. Blood dribbled down his face and onto the dashboard. He wasn't smiling anymore.

It looked like some weird cartoon, it was such an odd angle, and Ledge was laughing, and then he was sobbing, and then he was throwing up, and then he saw the fire, and it was on the hood of the car, and it was moving steadily towards him, and he couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move.

For the third time in his life, Ledge thought, I don't want to die.

But the fire inched closer still, and his heavy limbs refused to move, and then it was in the cab of the car, and then it was catching his pant leg, and then it was on him, and he was screaming, agony grating through his veins, and then it was going dark, and he couldn't force his eyes to stay open any longer.

As his consciousness faded away and his mind blanked out into white noise, a thought occurred to Ledge.

Surrounded by fire, breathing out his last, he thought that he had always been a ledge. It hadn't started when he was sixteen. It had started much, much earlier. He couldn't say when.

He thought what cruel irony it was that he was born a ledge, and now after everything he would die as one. Or maybe… he had never stopped being one, even in the in between moments. He was doomed to be un-special forever. He had always known that, from the very start.

He knew, deep inside, that no one would remember him. The news would cover the crash briefly, and then life would move on. The band would find a new manager. The world would continue to march on without him.

Everything faded to silence.

#written by me #my work #do not repost #give cred if used #writeblr #writing #original story #short story #original work #5798 words #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mild gore #franz writes

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dollslayer · 3 years

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Botanical Interest - For Luck

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x Florist!Reader

Summary: Steve introduces you to some of the most important people in his life, but are you ready for all that comes with it?

W/C: 4,743

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, gambling

A/N: When I saw @redhead-wine-and-literature-club was doing a floral based challenge I couldn't pass up the opportunity to add to this series! April 28th - Cornflower - good-luck charm. Even though this is part of a series of oneshots it can be read as a standalone! If you like it please like/reblog/comment and check out my other fics! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

The sunlight through the windows warms your skin while the breeze of the small fan on the counter gives you goosebumps. Dog days of Summer slowly set in over the city and with them came a slight dip in business. No one wants a rooftop wedding when it’s 100 degrees out and the drinks are watered down with sweat. You didn’t mind though, it let you put in a little extra time and care to the orders you did have.

You picked up a stem of cornflower and nestled it between snapdragons and lisianthus. It was so dreamy you couldn’t help but sigh, you almost wished it was for yourself. It was for an elopement, an eager young couple came in this morning all smiles asking if you could take the last minute order. Feeling a little sappy from your own relationship you couldn’t turn them down.

You started in on the boutonniere when the music you had on was paused. Curious, you looked at your phone to find you had an incoming call. You balanced the phone in between your shoulder and ear as you gathered supplies.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Doll. How are you?” Steve’s warm voice greeted you.

You smiled into the receiver. “I’m good, just working on the last order of the day. What are you up to?”

“Well actually that’s what I called to ask you. You free tonight?”

“You can meet me at the shop in an hour. Sound good?” You promised.

“Sounds like a plan. I love you, doll, I’ll see you soon.”

After returning his affections you hung up and set to work, excited to be finished and see Steve. Despite his involvement with the mob, which neither of you had really addressed head-on yet, things were going really well. Even though he was involved with murky dealings he was sweet to you and you were in love with him. You tried to plan your night with Steve in your head as you worked.

____

The ringing of a bell roused you from your work, expecting to see the young couple here to pick up their flowers. You were instead face to face with Steve’s handsome smirk and playful eyes. Your smile grew wider as he approached the counter. You held the boutonniere up to the lapel of his jacket and eyed it from a distance.

“Do I have a hot date I didn’t know about?” He joked.

“No!” You giggled, “The flowers are for a couple that came in the shop this morning, they’re going to elope and the groom’s got your complexion, thought I’d see how this looks on you before I finish”

“Oh? And how do I look as a groom?” He questioned.

Your cheeks heated instantly and you felt shy. You managed to squeak out that he looked nice before you had to turn away to box up the flowers. You couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face. You and Steve never talked about marriage before but things were getting serious between you. Maybe he just felt extra cheeky today.

“I like the blue, very colorful”

“They’re cornflowers, they’re a good luck charm! I figured they were fitting for their little wedding. So what did you have in mind for tonight? It’s too hot to sit on the patio but I’ve got a pint of ice cream with our names on it in the freezer at home” You raised your eyebrows in offer.

“Well actually, I was hoping you could be my good luck charm tonight. Bucky’s got a few of us getting together tonight for poker and you’ve yet to meet my friends. What do you say?”

Oh. You weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t met his friends yet because you were uncomfortable with his mob work and you knew they were involved. But you also knew they were his friends and they were important to him. It’s not like you could avoid them forever. Poker with a mob boss? Sure why not?

You put on a slightly uneasy smile and nodded.

“Well I have to tell you, I haven’t played in forever but I would love to meet your friends” You told him.

“I promise, no shop talk. But I’ve been telling them about you. Buck’s wife Natasha has been dying to meet you. I also promise not to make you play poker.” He said with an easy grin.

“Alright, I just have to wait on this couple to pick up their flowers and close up. Shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes. You can wait here if you want but I’ve got no A/C”

Steve nodded and took off his jacket. He rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.

“For you? I’ll sweat it out.” He said.

____

After a quick pit stop at your place to change you were on your way. You smiled in the passenger’s seat, still reeling from the look on the young bride’s face when she saw her bouquet. That was undoubtedly the best part of your job, seeing the joy on your customer’s faces when they saw their arrangements. Maybe this feeling could carry you through the night.

The tires of Steve’s Audi crunched under the gravel of the long driveway up to Bucky’s estate. Steve told you he had a townhouse in Brooklyn but for the most part they stayed at their estate outside of the city. You looked up at the facade of the house and admired the ivy that clung to the bricks.

Parking the car Steve got out and quickly made his way to your side to let you out. Just one of the many old-fashioned quirks that he had. You accepted his hand as he helped you out of the car and leaned up to kiss his cheek. His hand traveled down to rub your back reassuringly. You looked up at him.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Natasha can be intense but she means well. Just be yourself and they’ll love you just as much as I do.” He kissed your hair to soothe you and lead you towards the door.

Steve nodded at the man at the door. “Scott. Nice to see you, this is my girlfriend”

You smiled and gave him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Scott”.

He smiled and greeted you in kind, lifting his hand to shake yours. When he did his jacket rode up and you could see the holster and butt of his gun. You ignored it and shook his hand.

Scott opened the door for you and you entered the house. Mansion, might be a better word honestly. Marble floors, oak woodwork, all the look of any house you’d find in the area and all in line with how you’d think a rich mob boss might live. The foyer was empty but you could hear voices in the distance.

Steve waltzed through the halls like he lived here, when he was at work he probably practically did. The space was teeming with energy as they bantered on with trash talk and promises of beating one another. Men sat at a round table drinking, waiting to deal cards and women standing around sipping on wine.

One man looked familiar from the pictures you’d seen around Steve’s place. His sharp jaw and long dark hair drew your attention instantly; Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn. His brows were pinched together in a scowl but he had a playful grin on his face. You steeled yourself the best you could and prepared for your introduction. Just think of him as Steve’s childhood best friend.

“Steve! ‘Bout time you showed up you bastard!” an accented voice belonging to a tall blond man with long hair called. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And are you the enchantress that our dear friend goes on and on about? Now that I’m meeting you I can see why!”

Steve let out an embarrassed laugh and motioned towards his friend. “This is Thor, don’t let the muscle fool you, he’s a total teddy bear”

You gave him your name and extended your hand when he brought you in for a bone-crushing hug. You let out a laugh and hugged him back, grateful for something to ease the tension you felt.

“How’s that for a warm welcome, huh?” A voice sounded from behind you.

Thor released you from your hug and you took a desperately needed breath. He patted you on the shoulder.

“Wanted to make our dear Steven’s girl feel at home, that’s all” Thor explained. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to beating your boyfriend at poker.” You laughed at that and turned to face the man who spoke earlier.

That man was none other than Bucky, who reached out for your hand. You gave it to him and he instead lifted it to give a gentle kiss.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting the one and only. Stevie here won’t shut up about you sometimes. I’m Bucky but I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I’ve heard about you too, it’s nice to finally meet.” You nodded as you took your hand back.

“I’m afraid I need to steal your man, we’ve been waiting on him to start the game but tell you what, why don’t you go find my wife Natasha, I know she’s been dying to meet you.”

Great, not at all intimidating. Okay fine just smile and breathe. Maybe get a drink. You smiled at Bucky. “The redhead, right?” He nodded and sent you on your way. One last look at Steve you shot him a worried look but he only winked at you.

You looked around the room and shrunk in on yourself a bit. You were never the best with social outings or being in new environments. You looked around again and found the very redhead you had been in search of smirking at you from the corner. She was dressed in a sleek black dress and looked effortlessly beautiful but also like she could strangle a man with her bare hands. You steeled yourself with a smile you’re sure she saw straight through.

“So you’re the one responsible for the flowers at my wedding?” You nodded Pleasesayyoulikedthempleasesayyoulikedthem “I loved them! The wedding planner recommended you and I’m so glad she did. It’s so hard to find a good color pallet but you nailed it. Come on, you need a drink then I’ll introduce you to the girls”

She ushered you towards the kitchen where she took the waiting wine glass from the counter and handed it to you. You didn’t like red but you’d drink it anyways. You brought the glass to your lips and took a sip.

You two talked for a bit in the kitchen, maybe she wasn’t as scary as she seemed. You tipped the stem of your glass until there was nothing left. Before you could ask for different wine she was topping you off from the same bottle. Another round of apprehensive sips and hidden grimaces but you thanked her regardless. It was now your goal to find the sociable sweet spot of drunkenness. You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks from the alcohol as tipsiness settled in.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and considered you for a moment.

“So how are you handling the whole organized crime thing? Gotta say, I didn’t peg you as his type but you guys are cute.”

You stopped yourself from spitting the wine in your mouth back into the glass.

“Um, thanks, I guess” You sputtered, “we uh, try to keep things separate. Figure it’s best for both of us.”

Natasha nodded, taking another drink herself.

“That’s probably best but I mean, how long can you keep that up, really?” She asked

You hated to admit it but she had a point. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You opened your mouth to answer her when a man walked into the room and called your name. You looked expectantly (and slightly gratefully) towards him.

“I believe your man has requested your presence at the table. Somethin’ about needing a cornflower? I don’t know he said you’d get it. What are you two gossipin’ about in here anyways?” He questioned.

Natasha spoke before you could “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Sam. We’re right behind you.” Sam nodded and retreated back to the doorway to wait for you.

Natasha touched your shoulder and you looked to her.

“Look, I didn’t mean to come off so brash, I guess I’m just trying to say, I know that being involved in this life isn’t easy. We’ll swap numbers later. Maybe we’ll go to lunch” She winked at you. You couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not but you nodded anyways.

“I-Thank you, I think I’d like that. I’d better go find Steve though” you excused yourself and made your way back to the table.

____

Steve Rogers was having a good night. He finally got to introduce his friends to his girl, she seemed to be relaxing a bit and having a better time, and he was well on his way to getting a straight flush this hand. The only thing that would seal the deal is his good luck charm by his side.

Steve called to Sam across the room and as soon as Sam walked over and bent Steve spoke.

“Sam, could you do me a solid and find my girl? Think she went to get a drink with Nat. Tell her I need cornflowers”

“Man if this is some weird sex thing I’m gonna be mad” Sam said with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“Oh, please. Nothin’ like that, promise. She’ll know what it means.” Steve pat his friend on the shoulder and paid attention as Thor dealt cards.

A minute later his girl was walking through the door with an uneasy smile on her face. Something is wrong but he can’t gauge how serious it is. Sam says something to make her laugh and he settles on asking her later. Natasha saunters out behind them looking almost amused but cautious. Like she was regretting something. She’d probably just tried to give his girl the third degree when Sam interrupted them. It’s for the best, that’s too much for one night.

His girl smiles as she approaches him, looking slightly more at ease when she takes another sip of her wine. Her smile was a little looser and she moved a bit more freely, definitely tipsy and completely adorable with that grin on her lips.

“How are things going over here for you boys?”

Gauging how tipsy she was, he patted his knee in offering and she took it with a shy smile. Only slightly. But enough not to worry so much.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m about to kick all their asses and I figured I could use a good luck charm to seal the deal.” He boasted.

“Oh,” she said in realization, “Then I’m all yours”. She settled into his lap and watched on.

Her face was nothing short of endearing as she tried to concentrate and take in the game. He remembered she said she hadn’t been good at poker but it was sweet she was trying to pay attention anyways and be there for him.

“What’s the pot?” She asked.

“Nothin’ serious, there’s a pretty nice box of cigars and a weekend at Buck’s place in the Hamptons in the mix but we don’t do cash at get togethers like this, that’s for boy’s nights only.” He explained as he rubbed her back with his free hand. “Tonight’s just about fun”

She nodded as she studied the table some more before resigning to laying her head against his and listening to whatever bullshit Clint was on about. Steve was focused on getting others at the table to fold, he knew he had a good hand and a good chance of winning, he just needed the others to back down to bring it home.

Thor placed the final community card face up and Steve set out a low whistle. Others at the table looked a little miffed but he just knew he was taking it all. He set down his cards to a chorus of groans as he raked all the chips towards himself. You placed a kiss to his temple and he returned one to your cheek.

“Just the good luck I needed” he said loud enough for the table to hear.

“Hey Steve you gotta come see this!”

Steve tsked in annoyance. “Can it wait? I’m up and we were gonna keep playing. I’ll be there after”

“No, you should go. Let her play a hand for you, we can get to know each other better” Bucky suggested.

“Oh, I don’t think you want me playing poker.” She laughed but nervousness was the only emotion he could see on your face. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.

“She’ll be fine, we’ll go easy on her, I mean it. If it makes you feel better we’ll even hold the pot. This round is just for shits.” Bucky insisted.

Caught between wanting to ask how you felt about it and not wanting to get flak about being so sensitive Steve tilted his head in silent asking at you.

You gave him the same unsure smile you’d had all night and nodded up at him. “I’ll be fine, Stevie, promise.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and then turned his eye to Bucky who was all smiles. He knew exactly what Bucky was trying to do. Buck knows she doesn’t know anything but he’s gonna turn the screws on her just like he does with anyone new at the table. Steve gave him a stern expression in warning. Don’t scare her off.

____

You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you tried to decide what to do. Take it slow. You told yourself. You looked up to find all the eyes at the table on you and did your best to calm yourself.

“So who’s dealing?” A man you hadn’t previously met swiped the cards and began shuffling.

“Look, I know we said we’d put the pot on hold but Laura’s been bugging me about a vacation and I don’t know that I can pass up this opportunity to steal from Steve so easily, so” The man you’d come to know as Clint trailed off. You did your best not to be offended.

“Shut up, Barton. I promised Steve, we just wanna have a little fun, don’t we?” Bucky asked.

Is he asking me?

You decided to take a sip of your wine instead and he chuckled.

“So,” Bucky turned to you, “I know that you know about what we do, there’s no point in denying it. The question is are you going to be a problem for us or do you know how to keep things to yourself?”

Frozen in fear you could only manage to look at the rest of the table, hoping to find that this was all a joke. Instead, every face looking to you was stony and waiting on an answer. God, this man was made for Natasha, that much is clear. Your eyes darted around the room looking for an out. Where is Steve? Where the fuck is Steve?

You don’t find him, but you do find Natasha looking at you, she smiles and looks to her husband before she shakes her head. She makes her way over to her husband and lightly smacks him in the back of the head.

The look of surprise on his face ruins his silent and aggressive front as he winces in pain. He looks in slight annoyance at his wife as she tsks at him.

“Will you stop already? She’s a smart girl and you don’t need to go scaring her off. In fact, I hope she beats you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” Natasha sounded so confident. You warmed to the fact that she was in your corner when you were practically a stranger in her home.

“Aw c’mon, Babe, I was only messin’ with her.” Bucky turned to Nat and she just challenged him with a smile.

You didn’t know why Natasha has suddenly become so supportive, maybe she felt bad about earlier but you were grateful to her. She pulled up a chair between the two of you to watch and motioned to the dealer to continue. You finished your second glass and prepared yourself for the night ahead. Any chance they had of you going easy on them went out the window.

____

You lost the first hand graciously, saying you hadn’t played poker since you were in college as an excuse for your loss. But when Steve was still busy and Bucky offered another round you accepted. You decided to put your full effort in this time.

Twenty minutes later everyone at the table was feeling confident in their hands, staring at each other like some sort of Mexican standoff, willing the others to fold. You could tell by the way Clint kept scratching the cut on his chin that he was screwed and he knew it. Thor couldn’t go more than 5 seconds without nervous laughing.

But Bucky? He was a tough read but about half way through the round his leg started bouncing. You knew this because he was bumping into Natasha, who’s wine was sloshing around in the glass despite her stillness. These clods didn’t stand a chance.

The dealer, Vision, you’d learned, called for everyone to show their cards. Here goes. One by one everyone set their cards down until finally it was your turn. You set them down but focused on your opponents faces. Everyone looked confused, shocked even. You had laid down a royal flush and handily smoked them all.

“Holy shit”

“Holy shit indeed”

“Told you so” Nat teased.

You smiled at all of them and drank from your newly topped off glass of wine - white this time. A warm pair of hands rested on your shoulders and you looked up to find Steve smiling down at you.

“What’s going on over here, gentlemen?”

“Well, Steve, I think your girl is hustlin’ us. Thought you said you hadn’t played since college?” Bucky turned to you. You couldn’t gauge how angry he was but you decided to be honest.

“I haven’t,” you began, “But when I did I was pretty damn good. You just assumed I didn’t know what I was doing.” You shrugged.

The room was tense, it felt like everyone was looking to Bucky to see what to do next. He broke out into a wide smile and a low chuckle turned into hearty laugh. Everyone visibly relaxed.

“I gotta say, Steve. She isn’t what I expected, but she’s sure somethin’”

“A girl after my own heart” Natasha added.

Steve bent down to kiss your head. You stood from the table and offered him your seat. Nat put a hand on your shoulder.

“Steve I’m going to steal her again, the girls will probably want to hear all about your little cardshark.”

____

He had to admit, he was completely blown away by your little stunt at the table. He thought back to earlier when you watched him play. You weren’t trying to desperately understand the game, you were studying your opponents. He couldn’t deny it was kinda hot. You were full of surprises.

He smiled thinking that you were no different than the day you met, timid but aggressive when you need to be. That’s my girl.

The rest of the night came and went without incident, Steve didn’t end up taking home the pot but he did have a conversation with Bucky.

“She and I don’t talk about work. She knows that what we do isn’t exactly reputable but let’s face it, anyone in Brooklyn would. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t want to.”

Bucky took a long drag from his glass of bourbon and nodded.

“But if she ever did I hope she’s smart enough to know she has to keep what she knows to herself. We can’t afford any slip ups.”

Steve’s fists clenched and he controlled his anger enough not to snap at Bucky. He was his best friend but Bucky was still the boss and Steve knew how much was at stake.

“Not that it’s any of my business but you love this girl, right?” Steve swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Then how the hell are you gonna manage that? Keepin’ your two worlds separate? I mean, you just gonna walk her down the aisle and live happily forever keeping half your life from her? I need to know that if push came to shove she wouldn’t sell us out. Things are fine for now but you know that you’re either in or you’re out. I care about you, Steve, you’re my best friend but you need to see straight.”

Steve looked away, his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. He knew Bucky was right. He loved you but he owed his life to Bucky, he was his brother. But he loved you. They were careful in their work and he knew any feds that tried to come after them wouldn’t find a thing. He could put this issue into a box and seal the lid tightly, at least for a while.

“I know you’re right. I love her and she’s a good woman. She wouldn’t say anything because she doesn’t know anything. And she never will.”

He left Bucky to stand on his own in search of you. He found you laughing with Laura, Wanda and Nat. He smiled at how welcomed you seemed to feel despite the rocky start.

“You ready to go, doll?”

You turned around and smiled at him. You looked back at the girls and then reluctantly back to him but nodded.

“Guess we’d better go, I’ve got to get down to the flower market at open tomorrow morning”

____

After a very long round of goodbyes you swapped numbers with Nat with promises of future lunch plans. The night had turned out worlds better than you thought that it would. You served a bunch of men their own egos on a silver platter and didn’t get murdered for it and you even made friends.

Still though Nat’s words echoed in your mind ‘how long can you keep that up, really?’ Little did you know but the same thoughts troubled Steve. You knew eventually you would have to make a choice if you ever wanted to get more serious than you were with each other, you just didn’t know what choice you’d make.

The ride home was quiet but not tense. He held your hand a little tighter than usual but you thought maybe he was just excited you had gotten on so well with your friends. He pulled up to your building and put the car in park.

“So do you think they liked me? I mean, other than hustling them at poker I’d say I made a pretty good impression”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, doll. Gotta say, the whole cardshark thing? Kinda hot, didn’t know you had that in you, you little fiend.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and grinned at him. “I wasn’t gonna but Clint started talking shit.”

“Then he deserved his ass kicked” Steve joked. “I’d come up but I know you’ve got an early morning. Thank you for coming and meeting everyone tonight, I know that you want to keep things separate but these people are family to me, it means a lot that you met them”

You nodded and smiled. You told yourself you didn’t need to make the choice between getting involved with his work and keeping it apart from the other aspects of your life but it seems that by meeting them you had already made one.

Maybe you could talk more to Nat about this, she’d know what your situation is like more than anyone. For now though you decided to focus on the present reality, you had a good night and you had fun and now you’re about to kiss the man you love.

“Of course” you whispered. You kissed him slowly, trying to put off the sleepless night you were surely about to have.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you”

“I love you too, Stevie”

#rwlc love in bloom challenge #steve rogers x reader #mob au #mob!steve x reader #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #botanical interest #fluff #angst

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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

Text

yandere other mother x reader- Coraline au

warnings- yandere behavior, platonic yandere, manipulation, slight infantilism, mentions of neglect, false reality,

this one really isn't bad, but just to warn you, if any of these things trigger you, please don't read!

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“Y/n this is insane! Can’t you see that she’s crazy?!” Coraline yelled at you from inside the dusty room while the three ghosts watched, their mouths had been sewn shut long ago, so they weren’t able to intervene. You stood there, feeling like you wanted to cry, this “other mother” was amazing, your real parents never showed much affection, going far enough that it could be Called neglect, so when your other mother held you in her lap, and braided your hair, and gave you warm hugs, and kisses on the cheeks, you felt happy. Your other father was just as amazing, but still, their treatment of you felt similar to one of a baby’s, always treating you like a young child who can’t think for themselves. Coraline noticed this far earlier, while you remained happy and oblivious, the buttons for eyes were the last straw for her.

“I know okay! I just, she’s so nice, I don’t even know what to think anymore, you know what it feels like to actually have parents… I don't, my entire life I’ve been shoved in a little blue house down the stairs and told ‘don't disappoint us’ by my parents! I just want to feel loved… it’s just, it’s just not fair” you spoke, lip quivering, you couldn’t even remember the last time you allowed yourself to cry, you weren’t supposed to love the “other parents” but you did, they were the parents you never had, and you just had to live them. At this point silent tears were trailing down your cheeks, Coraline remained fuming at you, not even sparing a moment to acknowledge the two small black buttons that seemed to appear out of nowhere, peeking through the wall.

“That doesn’t matter, do you really want tiny little needles poking in and out of your eyeballs? Do you really want to leave your real parents behind? Do you want me to leave you behind?” She seethed, you shook your head, letting out a few small whimpers and sobs under your breath, you hated that she was right, you hated it so much, you couldn’t just leave everything in the real world for this parallel universe void of life, you should want to back there right? where no one cared about you, where no one loved you, where you were nothing.

“Coraline? Is that any way to speak to your friend?” A soft voice rang from behind your form, the few lost souls floating in the room ten up, showering to the far corners where the other mother couldn’t see them, then you felt warm hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to the women’s chest, you subconsciously leave into her warmth, she glared down at Coraline, stoking your head lovingly. In reality, she hadn’t wanted for you to get pushed down here, but Coraline was getting in the way, and you just got caught in the crossfire, she did make sure that your landing was softer though, while Coraline's was harsh.

“You don’t get to tell us what to do, you aren’t her mother.” Coraline breathed out, slimming her eyes into a harsh stare at the woman in whose chest you were sobbing into. One moment, you were in the cold cellar-like room, the next, you were back in the baby pink room that was yours in this place, your true room was a boring white, with a ritzy mattress in the middle, and a small cabinet that served as a closet. Although you didn’t particularly like the color pink, it was nice to know that someone cared enough to bring true colors into your life. The other mother continued her embrace, picking up and cradling your head against her shoulder, you felt a wave of drowsiness overtake your senses, it hit you like a pound of bricks, and you squeezed the back of the women’s shirt to see if you were dreaming or not, her hold just felt so… comforting.

“Was she mean to you darling? Don’t you worry your little head about it, shhhhhh, just fall asleep, mother will take care of everything.” She spoke, bouncing slightly up and down with each step she took towards the large bed that was displayed in the center of the room. You barely muttered a small “wait” before falling asleep in her arms. She tenderly placed your body under the silky sheets, wrapping you up with the soft fabric and placing a small pig plushy next to you, keeping an eye on her precious’s little daughter while she tended to some “housework”.

The second you went unconscious you slipped into a weird dream, you were walking on a thin sheet of water, in a pitch dark room, it was so cold like someone had dunked you in a bucket of ice, you stared out into the nothingness, gradually growing more anxious, where are you?

“HELLO! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE!” You screamed, only to be greeted by the echo of your own words, nothing more, nothing less. You started to swivel around in a moment of panic, having just about no idea what could happen to you in this dark abyss. That was until you dek the floor below you disappear, and you popped into existence into a completely different place, it was a medium sized room, the layout was similar to a grocery store, multiple shelves made the room feel smaller, what was odd about it, was that all the shelves were packed with hundreds of snowglobes. You admired the pretty glass structures as you slowly walked down the aisles, each had a completely different design, with little figures inside, you found it adorable, ogling at the pretty things. That was until you heard quiet clicking of heels, and your other mother came into view.

“There you go, now don’t be rude to me! You are a very lucky girl that I’m even letting you live, you should know much better than to taint my daughter's mind with your filthy voice, oh you make such a great addition to my collection! Enjoy your stay, forever” she chimed, you were positive that she couldn’t see you, mainly because you were standing frozen directly in front of her, and she hadn’t acknowledged you. At least you weren’t freezing anymore! You tiptoed closer to the snowglobe that was just placed among the collections, wondering why your mother was so enthusiastic about it. And saw nothing special about it, other than the bright yellow raincoat that adorned the figurine.

you remained completely unaware. of the thousands of button eyes that watched you from the globes, begging to be shattered, and set free.

“Pretty” you muttered to yourself before the world faded again, and you were back into your body, snuggled up under the covers, clutching the pig plushy close to your chest, you felt awake, but also very asleep, forgetting your entire dream the moment your eyes opened, slightly surprised to see that you were still in the pink room, in the other house. You could hear the feint sound of your bedroom door opening, the creak rang through the room. And the other mother smiled softly at your lovable position, cooing under her breath, trying not to be too loud and wake you up.

“Darling, we have to get up now, oh I know I know your still tired, but it’s dinner time, you can’t stay in bed all night, little sleepyhead, my little sleepyhead.” She spoke, rubbing your shoulder while you groaned at the sudden speaking and noise. You didn't know how long that dream lasted, but you did know that it was odd, so odd that in fact, it made up your mind for you about the whole button eyes thing.

“Uhm- Mother? I-I’m sorry, but I- I don’t want to put buttons in my eyes.” You muttered, awaiting a harsh reaction, but instead, getting another one of her sweet smiles, she picked you up again and sat you in her lap, your small frame getting engulfed by hers.

“Oh is that what you were worrying so hard about? Don’t worry honey, you never were going to have to sow buttons in your eyes, it was just to see if I could trust you, and I know that I can trust you now.” She stated, calmly, a little too calmly. So… she lied? You got in a fight with your best friend because she wanted to “see if she could trust you”?

“Oh- okay, where coralline though? Can I talk to her? Please, mother?” You started begging after seeing her stoic expression, why did you want to see her? Was she not good enough for you? Coralline was mean to you, she hurt her little girl! Why did you want to see her? We’re you going to leave your mother for a snobby brat? She tightened her hold on you, pressing you closer to her, whispering little “shh” or “stay with me” in your ear, for some reason, you couldn't place what Coraline's face looked like, even though you had seen her just earlier, any memories of her were slowly dimming, fuzzy spots started appearing in any of those memories, and like turning of a staticky tv, they disappeared. You couldn’t even remember the name “coralline” after a few minutes of being cradled in this women’s lap.

“Cmon darling, let’s go eat dinner now, your father made it this time, I’m surprised he hasn't burn down the kitchen!” She spoke, getting a few sleepy giggles out of you. After helping you down the stairs she led you to the dining room, where you went on and sat at the large table next to your two parents. And so, you forgot about your “real” world, staying young forever here, even growing younger and smaller as time went on, forgetting about coralline, and your parents, and the small door, you lived your life happy, dressed in frilly pink clothing, learning to lobe your mother as she grew more obsessed with you, she got what she wanted in the end

You stayed mother’s little girl forever

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have a great day today :)

#yandere x reader #coraline #yandereothermother #other mother #yandere x y/n #cuddling & snuggling #buttons #snow globe #yanderecoraline #alternate universe #platonic obsession #platonic yandere #darling #infantilism

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bastillewolf · 3 years

Text

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (X)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: New year new chapter, but let’s hope I update more frequently than that now lol. Please leave me a kick in the ass so I stop procrastinating, thanks! And also big thank you to the immense support. Love you guys <3

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

Chapter X

She really couldn’t help herself. What sane person wouldn’t start screaming the second they hopped onto a Shinigami’s back and started flying? She clung onto Ryuk’s neck for dear life, her legs wrapped around his middle while his wings flapped them higher and higher until they’d reached a thick level of fluffy clouds with the dark sky above them. There, the wings stopped flapping, and she found herself gliding through the air, her hair being pulled back by the gentle breeze. She realized how harshly she was squeezing Ryuk, and quickly loosened her grip to a point that she was still comfortable she wouldn’t be able to accidentally let go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in his ear. It was actually very beautiful, now that she took a good look around her. Below the white, she could see all sorts of lights from the city flickering through, as if they were mirroring the stars above.

“I can take it. I just wasn’t expecting you to scream, is all,” Ryuk replied gently, “I thought you wanted to fly?”

“Y-Yes, I did. It’s just… a lot scarier than it looks. I don’t have wings, so rationally if I let go I would definitely not survive. I think even L could confirm that with percentages and a graph.”

“Rationally I would catch you. I’m heavier, I fall faster than you. You would be saved before you could say ‘Shinigami’.”

She chuckled, “Rationally I wouldn’t count on that. Maybe I don’t trust you. Rationally.”

He turned his head slightly, but she was still unable to see his facial expression from her position on his back. However, it became rather apparent through the sad note in his voice when he spoke. “You don’t trust me?”

She quickly shook her head, “No, I’m sorry Ryuk, that’s not what I meant. I mean that I should rationally not count on you catching me if I fall. I made the decision to hop on your back, thus it is my responsibility to take responsibility for my actions and face the consequences. If I fall, it would be my mistake.”

“Even if it were, I’d still catch you. I’d always catch you.”

She felt a sense of ease wash over her, along with a tingle in her stomach, but she wasn’t quite sure what that meant. She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, and breathing in a waft of fresh air that dragged along a hint of Light’s cologne. “How come you’re never this nice to Light?”

Ryuk chuckled dryly. “Because he’s not you.”

He felt a blush coat his cheeks when he felt her hands running along the feathers of his wings in a slow, gentle manner. She kept doing this until they’d landed, and then proceeded to latch onto his hand after they’d landed in the back of an alleyway.

Even if you do not actually possess the Death Note, the effect will be the same if you recognize the person and his/her name to place in the blank.

Ryuk was in love. There, he could finally say it. He’d been on a date and now he could say he was in love. He was slightly hunched over so the girl could hold his hand without people noticing at her side, but not for one second did he feel an ache in his back. All he could think about was the way she’d clung onto him, how she’d touched him, how sweet she’d sounded muttering nothings in his ear while she stroked his feathers. Affection wasn’t something that came naturally to him, Shinigami’s never really deemed such thing necessary. Yet with her, he seemed to want to keep her hand in his forever.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, because she was the one who dropped it like a ton of bricks, along with his heart. Then he noticed the reason for her sudden shift, and it was standing in front of Light’s house. She lightly tugged on the chain that was stuck to the other death note he was carrying and kept her fingers wound tightly around it, but he didn’t mind. If she wanted to take his Death Note, she could go right ahead and do it. That’s how happy he was.

Until he met the bleak pale-yellow eyes of the tall creature hovering above the blonde stranger in front of them.

***

“Okay, Ryuk, we need to have a little talk,” Light started. They’d just been at the hotel, where they’d found out the second Kira was willing to do everything Light wanted them to do. They were supposed to set up a meeting place and Light wanted to prepare. She knew a round of questioning was about to begin, so she plopped down onto his bed in an instant.

Ryuk sighed, “Should’ve known.”

“And I’d appreciate an answer if you could,” Light added. “If two Shinigami happened to meet in the human world, are they allowed to speak to each other?”

“Hard to say,” the Shinigami replied. “As long as I’m attached to a human, I’d say it’s against the rules unless I had their permission first. But there are no laws against it either, so I guess it’s possible that another Shinigami might talk to me.”

“So, does that mean that if this fake Kira’s Shinigami were to see you, there’s a chance he might mention the fact that you’re with me and reveal that I’m Kira?”

“They probably wouldn’t, but it depends on their personality.”

“And if this kind of situation did arise I can assume you’ll act the way you normally do?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk said, “Even if I see another human with a Shinigami I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Well, I definitely think you’ve got the right approach.”

“Humph, thanks.”

***

“Oops,” he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, recalling the conversation he’d had with Light. He didn’t recognize the Shinigami before them, but if they wanted to, they could directly link Ryuk to the girl that was latching onto him. They might think she was the real Kira.

Though the latest message had already revealed Light’s stunt in the city with the group of people surrounding Ryuk had been a failure and he had been discovered to the fake Kira, there would be no good explanation for him to be hanging around this human.

Luckily for him, the other Shinigami remained deathly silent, until the girl at her side turned.

“Oh, hello there!” she said.

She blinked in response. “Uh… I- Uh… Aren’t you that girl from TV?”

The blonde giggled profusely, suddenly walking up to her as casual as could be. “Yes, I’m Misa, nice to meet you! Do you want an autograph?”

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, “Uh, no, I think I’m good. Were you looking for Light?”

“Eh?” Ryuk vocalized. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt about it. But then again, he realized, Light had most likely already been discovered. He just didn’t know how she detected that this was the second Kira without being able to see the second Shinigami floating only a few feet away.

“Oh, I was. Are you friends with him?” Misa’s head turned, but her eyes held a sudden blank expression as if her mind were calculating a proper physical response once she’d gotten answers.

“Yeah, for like, my entire life. How do you know him?”

“Oh… I just, I found the notebook he left in class. Then I looked him up online and I thought his resume was very… impressive. I just really wanted to meet him, he seems like such an intelligent guy.”

Ryuk heard the other Shinigami audibly sigh.

“Well, why don’t I introduce the two of you then? I’m sure he’s still up at this hour, and I was just on my way to see him now.”

“S-Sure!” Misa replied hesitantly.

She wished Light’s sister, Sayu, could’ve at the very least toned down her excitement a bit when she met Misa, but alas, she was in awe, as well as the girl’s mother. Light eventually came trotting down the stairs behind them, his neutral facial expression continuing to withstand even as he saw the strange scene before him. He managed to shoo his family members away and closed the front door behind him. She could’ve sworn she hadn’t heard crickets chirping before that.

“Uhm, pleased to meet you,” Misa started, sinking to her knees in a bow, “I’m Misa Amane.” She then glanced at you, and back at Light again.

Ryuk chuckled until he heard the other God of Death say, “Misa, the girl is being followed by another Shinigami. I doubt she isn’t aware of it.”

Misa made a noise of understanding, before looking at the odd placement of your hand which was still wrapped around Ryuk’s chain. “I thought you might get worried if you saw that message on TV. I just couldn’t take it anymore so I brought… this notebook.” She held out an identical copy of his Death Note in front of Light, and Ryuk heard the girl next to him audibly groan. Of course, the girl had no issue showing something like that out in the open. It was like she had no idea.

Light touched it, yet he made no sound. “Does she know? About all of it?” Misa questioned, directedly pointing her gaze at his best friend. Light nodded, so she was allowed to touch it as well. She very much tried, but unfortunately, her poker face wasn’t as good as Light’s, so she ended up with her mouth slightly agape. Ryuk lifted a finger to close it.

They decided it would be best to move the conversation inside, so they did, and Light had cautiously locked his bedroom door behind them after making sure his mother and sister thought this was just a nice drop-by from his (girl)friend.

“Have a seat.”

As Misa sat in Light’s desk chair, his best friend scooted onto the mattress behind him with Ryuk towering over them at the bedside. Her Shinigami, a pale skeleton with yellow eyes and purple hair and what appeared to be vampiric teeth, stood guard behind Misa.

“How did you find me?” Light decided to ask.

She answered with a gasp, “I knew it! You never made the Shinigami-eye deal. When you have the Shinigami-eyes like I do, you can see most people’s name and lifespan just by looking at them. However, you can’t see the lifespan of any person who possesses a Death Note.”

Light glanced over at Ryuk, looking for an explanation, but Ryuk seemed just as shocked. ��No kidding! I have to admit, even I wasn’t aware of that little detail.”

“Well, now you’ve managed to find me, but you were careless; what if you’d been caught by the police? Then they’d know everything about Kira!”

“It’s all right,” Misa said, “Because the police didn’t catch me and if I do as you say from now on, they’ll never be able to. So we’re safe. After all, don’t you need someone to see L’s name? If you want, I could be your eyes. So…”

“Yeah? So what?”

“-Would you please make me your girlfriend?”

Both Ryuk and the girl behind him burst out laughing, but he decidedly ignored them. He then proceeded to question her about her strategy in the city, as well as the evidence she could’ve left behind. She ended up even offering her Death Note to him, and while she’d still be the rightful owner, Light would be in control of it, and she of her Shinigami-eyes.

“-And if I become a burden to you, you can just kill me, okay?” Misa said pleadingly.

“But you might’ve removed several pages from your Death Note, you could be hiding them somewhere for all I know!”

“Why are you so suspicious of me?” she cried out, getting up from the chair and stomping her foot on the floor, “I already told you, I don’t care even if all you do is use me! Please believe me!”

“Why are you so willing to give up your life for him?” (Y/N) asked, and Light had to admit, that was the question he’d been building towards this entire time.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“ Misa spat.

“Hey,” Light barked, “If you want to show your loyalty, how about you start being nicer to the only person I’ve trusted with my secret so far and has kept it?”

“How can you be so sure you can trust her?! I bet she’s only in it so she can take it from you after you’re dead, so she can become the new Kira!”

“How dare you!” (Y/N) snarled warningly, but Misa was already launching herself at the girl.

Light hadn’t quite seen that coming. Thankfully, Ryuk had. He took the blonde girl by her arm and lifted her until her feet didn’t touch the floor anymore and she’d let out a startled scream. He noticed the other Shinigami wanted to step in already, but Light was faster. “Misa, if you and I were to work together, I need to know you can make rational decisions without letting your emotions get the better of you. Can you do that?”

She didn’t really look at him, so he decided to repeat himself, this time a bit more convincingly, “If you were to be my girlfriend, I need to know if you can tolerate being around my best friend.”

At this, she lit up, and Ryuk was quick to let go of her.

When she’d finally left, the girl he’d just been on a date with was now slung around his neck, having climbed on top of the bed to be able to reach him. His large hands grasped her sides, and his smile had grown even wider.

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frankcastleissoft · 3 years

Text

Lover

Frank Castle x reader

Word Count: 4,431

Warnings: angst, attempted rape, conflict/tension, and fluff (( but that’s not a bad thing :) ))

This new life with Frank was very simple. Not much else to be said about it. You both went to work and came home. Day after day, week after week. Simple.

It had been almost five months since Frank had finished off the last of the people responsible for his late family’s death. You could tell it still hurt though. It stung deep in his core. Like there was a ton of bricks inside of his chest, weighing him down. It hurt you too, to see him like that. Work for him was just a way to let out everything he was holding deep inside of him. He worked at a construction site, tearing down an old building. Sometimes he didn’t come home till dark and that scared you.

You worked at a catering company. You would go to the companies and help cook and keep the food refreshed. Cooking was something you really loved to do, so when you were able to get this job it really helped the situation.

The situation:

Frank was dead. And technically you were too. Not really anyone knew about you, but you had to be dead too. Now you both were living in a small, one room apartment.

You would come home around 5:00pm every day. Frank never beat you home. The last five months had been rough to say the least. Your marriage felt like it was hanging by a thread. You hardly talked and there was always this tension between you two. Some days you wouldn’t see Frank at all. He would come home after you were asleep, take a quick shower, find the plate of dinner in the fridge, then go to bed. You always made him dinner. Without fail. Frank loved your cooking. He was always starving when he got home.

And by the time you woke up in the morning, he’d be gone. It gave you this ache in your heart when you woke up and he wasn’t beside you in the bed that was much too small for the two of you.

So you would get ready for the day, then head out the door for work. It was always the same. Unless on the rare occasion, Frank would be dead asleep next to you, breathing heavily. He slept so hard sometimes it made you worry about how intensely he worked.

Work was long today. It felt like everything was ten times harder than it usually was, so you were looking forward to getting off your feet and sipping some tea, while reading a book. The little things meant the most living like this. The air was cool as you walked along the busy, Brooklyn streets toward home. You pulled your coat collar up against your neck, attempting to warm yourself.

After a few flights of stairs, you pulled your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. You set your things on the table in the middle of the room and put your coat in the wardrobe that was just small enough to fit in the room. You looked around the apartment. The bed was facing you, across from the door and the wardrobe. In the middle a table sat there with two chairs on each side. To the left was a door that led to the smallest bathroom in history. Then a doorway beside the bathroom led to the narrow kitchen. The cabinet space was limited and there was a small oven and only a little bit of counter space. The Fridge seemed to take up the most room. It wasn’t much, but you did your best to make it feel like a home. Flowers on the table— they were dried up and dead now. A rug in the kitchen, a knitted quilt on the bed, and a few books on the nightstands.

You made your tea, then made dinner soon after. Just like always, saving a plate for Frank. You had finished dinner, avoiding the mess, now sitting at the table, reading and indulging in another cup of tea to help you sleep well tonight. Then you heard a key slide into the lock and the door opened. Frank’s heavy boots stepped in, the weight of his feet sounded like he had had a long day too. He placed his metal lunch box on the table, and sat down to take off his shoes.

“Hey,” his deep voice whispered.

“Hey,” you said just as quietly.

He put his shoes by the door, then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. You watched him from where you sat. His dark hair was getting longer and his beard made him look so different. You didn’t mind it though. Your eyes traveled down to his hands. They were so calloused with so many welts and blistered. More proof he worked so hard.

“I wish you wouldn’t work so hard,” you said without even thinking about it.

Frank turned off the water and patted his hands dry. You knew he had heard you, but he pretended not to.

“I’ll heat up your dinner,” you said, setting down your book and heading for the fridge, avoiding eye contact.

As his plate made its way around the microwave, you stared at it intensely, lost in a jungle of thoughts.

You and Frank had met during his massacre in Hell’s Kitchen. One night (or early morning) you were walking home from your dead-end job at a crappy diner, when a strange man came up behind you, sticking a gun against your side. He casually told you under his breath to stay quiet or you were dead. You felt fear spread through your entire body, not one finger left without terror. You continued to walk, the panic making it hard to put one foot in front of the other. But the man helped you out by shoving you along.

“Wha-What do you want?” you managed to crack out.

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” his voice sounded evil and cold.

Your stomach fell through, your heart pounded even harder. You had hoped he had just wanted your wallet, but now it seemed he wanted more from you.

“Come here,” he growled, shoving you into an alley, no one around to possibly help you.

You let out a cry as he shoved you against the wall, your head felt like it could have split against the brick. You sobbed out little pleases and cries.

“Shut up!” the man yelled in your face.

You finally saw what he looked like and you almost wished you hadn’t. He began to pull off your coat with one hand, the other holding the gun at your stomach. You felt paralyzed. You wanted to fight back, to never let this man take this from you, but you just couldn’t. Once your coat was off, he started on your shirt, a white button down, your diner uniform.

“Oh, hello, Y/N,” he sneered, noticing your name tag. “It’s nice to meet you.” His voice echo through your head. You knew it would haunt you if you made it out of this alive.

At that moment, you heard heavy feet scuffing against the sidewalk outside of the alley.

“Please,” you said a little louder, hoping the person would hear you.

“Shut up!” the man yelled again, shoving the barrel of the gun into your stomach harder. And just then, a large man shoved into the man who had half unbuttoned your shirt, knocking him to the ground. You cried harder, relief washing over you. The big man got the gun from the criminal and began beating him with it. Repeatedly and with so much force, you couldn’t help but stare. When his head was much too beat in to be alive, the big man stood up, looking down at his work. You just stood, melting into the brick wall. Both of your breath was rapid and heavy.

“You okay, ma’am?” the big man’s raspy voice echoed in the alley.

You just nodded quickly, almost scared of your hero too. He turned to look at you, his face splattered with blood. This was all too much. You were just coming home from work, looking forward to sleeping for twelve hours. But there was something in his eyes. They were dark, but full of something you couldn’t quite place. Your mind began to fog up and you felt yourself lose control. Then your legs gave out and you began to lose consciousness. You felt strong hands catch you around your waist, then you were out.

It was dark and quiet except for the faint sounds of cars and sirens. You were laying down and staring up at the darkness, a small light illuminated the space around you. When you were fully awake, you shot up, looking around. For a second you thought you had been taken somewhere, kidnapped, but when you saw the man who had saved you, your fear subsided some; but still wary of your safety.

“Hey,” his voice just as gravelly as in the alley. “You’re safe.” He added, noticing your nervous eyes.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around.

“An old building,” he replied. “You’re safe here.” He assured again.

You took in your surroundings again, lost in your fuzzy brain. Then something struck you, and you looked back at the man sitting on the floor. His face was stained with bruises. Dark ones around his eyes and lighter ones on his cheeks.

“Wait…” you spoke softly. “You’re Frank Castle. You’re The-The Punisher.”

“That’s what they’re calling me.” he said, almost pissed off at the mention of it.

You felt a bit of fear stir up inside of you again, but it quickly settled. He saved you.

“Why did you save me?” you asked.

“I wasn’t going to just keep walking when I heard you were in trouble.” his gruff voice replied.

You gave a slight smile, thinking.

“You’re not like what the news makes you out to be.” you started. “I mean, what you did to that man was pretty… intense, but you saved me. They make it seem like you’ll just kill anyone.”

“I only take out the ones that deserve it.” he said matter of factly.

You grimaced a little at that; you didn’t know how you felt about his morals. But you watched him from where you laid. There was something about him that was comforting. Maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from something that would have stuck with you forever, or maybe it was that he seemed like he genuinely cared about your well being.

“Where’s my coat?” you sat up, feeling a little frantic. It was something that felt so important in the moment that it made you anxious.

“Oh, I- I didn’t get it. I didn’t see it,” Frank said, noticing your frazzled state.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. It was just a coat.

“Can I go home?” you asked, slightly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Yeah,” he stood up, a grunt of pain leaving his lips. “I’ll walk you back.”

At first you were going to decline for some reason, but then you realized that was the stupidest thing you could do. You stood up slowly, your head still fuzzy from the passing out.

“Here. You can use this.” Frank laid a big coat over your shoulders.

“Oh- thank you.” you said, caught off guard. You slipped your arms in the sleeves that were too long for your hands to poke through.

“Yeah,” he said under his breath.

As you walked home there was silence between you. You wanted to talk to him though. This all felt so surreal.

Then a loud noise, probably a motorcycle backfiring, came out of nowhere. You were still shaken up by what had happened maybe an hour before, so this sent fear through your body. You let out a fearful cry and grabbed onto Frank walking beside you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said calmly. “It’s nothing.” He held your wrists, taking your hands off of his arm.

“I’m sorry,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so on edge. This isn’t my average night.”

Frank gave you a smile. His smiles were magic, his eyes smiled too.

“This isn’t too unusual for me,” he snickered. “Except for you.”

That made you smile a little wider. There was something about him. Had you known him for twenty seconds, or twenty years?

“Well, this is it.” You said, taking a step up to your apartment building, now more level with Frank’s eyes.

He stood there, stocky frame, both hands in his pockets.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, a slight smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said quietly, almost blushing at the care in his voice. “Do you want your coat back?” You began pulling your arms out of the sleeves.

“No- you keep it,” he put a hand out in front of you in rejection. “I lost yours, so.”

You smiled again, putting your arms back in all the way. It was quiet for a little while, just standing in front of each other. The city was mild tonight- well, this morning. It had to be 3am by now.

“Thank you.. Frank.” You said his name, really felt the word, nervous what he would think that you used it. Names are weird to say sometimes… when you don’t know the person very well.

He didn’t respond right away, maybe you were overthinking and it hadn’t really been that long.

“—For the coat.” You giggled, holding the front of the coat with one hand like a model.

Frank snickered, shaking his head. “No problem.” He grinned.

The joke hung in the air for a while as an excuse to not leave each other. But then it left and you both stood there in the silence again.

“Good night… uh.” Frank said.

“Y/N,” you replied.

Frank had seen your name tag, but he didn’t want to sound creepy by knowing your name.

“Y/N.” He said back.

The way his voice carried your name gave you this feeling deep in your stomach.

“Good night.” You replied.

He took a step back and you took another step up.

“Be safe.” He said quickly, then turned away, walking back to where you both came from.

The next night, you were walking home from work again. This time with your pepper spray in hand. As you walked, you felt like someone was following you. You became very aware and walked a little quicker. Then you slightly turned your head and caught a glance of the person. You stopped in your tracks. That frame you knew anywhere.

“Are you trying to get pepper sprayed in the face?” You chuckled.

“Not what I was wanting to happen, but worth it just to know you’re taking safety precautions.” You heard a gruff voice say behind you.

You let yourself laugh out loud, turning around to see Frank in a baseball cap and coat. He was grinning from ear to ear too.

It continued like that. He would walk you home every night. “Just for his peace of mind” he would tell you. That made the butterflies in your stomach fly higher. Those butterflies wouldn’t calm down. Even when you were just at home or at work. Frank was all you could think about.

One night you were at the diner, pulling another graveyard shift. You were in the back filling up the salt and pepper shakers. It had been a slow night. The bell sounded, telling you someone had come in.

“One second!” You called, screwing the top back on a salt shaker. Then you went to the front and saw Frank. You both gave each other bright smiles.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, coming out from behind the counter.

“Had the night off, thought I’d pop by.” He shrugged.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, shrugging too, joking like this was a normal thing he did. “Coffee?” You asked, but already started pouring a mug.

“Thank you.” He nodded. “I’ll just wait over here till you get off.” He went over to a corner booth.

“Okay,” you ducked your head, smiling like a fool.

As things progressed in The Kitchen, Frank walked you home less and less. You knew what he was. You knew what he did. It scared you to think about sometimes. There was something so mysterious about him, but there was something rooted so deeply in him that was just simply good. That’s what you saw every time you looked at him. His goodness.

Frank didn’t tell you much about what was going on, he said he didn’t want you getting in the middle of it; you had a couple fights about that. But you knew about Karen and how she was trying to help him. You were thankful for her. That she was helping him in ways you couldn’t.

He told you about his family. You cried. It broke your heart to hear the way he talked about them. His eyes glossy, his voice growing raspier.

Then he got arrested. You were shocked as you watched the news on the tv in the diner.

As the days dragged along, you felt yourself start to think it wasn’t ever going to be what you wanted it to be with Frank. It was hard to come to that conclusion, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop caring about him.

One day, you tracked down Karen Page and told her who you were and you both talked for hours. She told you about how she was investigating his case. You told her what you knew about him, it wasn’t much at all, though.

She told you as much as she could about his case. It was nice to have her, you both got along so well.

You kept up with the trial through the news, it hurt to see the way he was handling it.

Then he broke out of jail. That scared you. You didn’t know what he was doing.

Then all of the shootings happened. Everyone was blaming him, and you didn’t know what to believe. Karen was quick to tell you that it wasn’t him and that he had saved her. Those few days you were a nervous wreck. Karen wasn’t answering your calls and you didn’t know what to do.

Then the next night— or very early morning, you were coming home from work. You dumped your coat (the one that was really Frank’s) and purse on your couch and headed for the fridge; you were starving. Then you heard a sound in the corner of your living room, causing your stomach to flip. You slammed the fridge door in fear. Then a figure stepping forward, into the moonlight coming through the window.

“Frank?” you dropped the apple, tears immediately flooding your eyes. “Wha-What is going on?” Your voice quivered with emotion. You noticed is bruised and bloody face.

“I gotta disappear for a while,” he said slowly.

“Frank,” you said again, running forward, into his arms.

This was the first time you two had had any physical contact like this. His arms wrapped around your waist so tightly, you thought he could break your ribs if he wanted to. Your arms were around his neck, your face in his shoulder. Blood was probably staining your shirt, but you didn’t care.

“Do you mind if I wash up a bit?” He asked after you had parted.

“No, of course,” you led him to the bathroom.

That was the last time you saw him. The news said he was dead. Some explosion. It broke your heart.

A few days after the news, you learned it wasn’t true. The experience in your living room when he showed up was heart stopping. You woke up around 11am after another late shift. You shuffled into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“Can I get some of that?” You heard the familiar, gravelly voice say behind you.

You gave him the what-for for scaring you out of your skin. But it ended in tears and gratefulness that he was alive. You had to admit, you had a feeling he was.

He left the next day, saying he had to finish what he had started. You tried to convince him not to, but he was too stubborn.

About a week later, he came back. He told you he had to disappear, go underground. He had changed his name to Pete Castiglione and he said he couldn’t see you anymore since he was technically dead. It stung. It hurt him too, you could see it in his eyes. There was something about his eyes that always had you captivated.

“Frank,” you said quickly as he stood up to leave, after telling you all of this.

He froze.

“What if I came with you?” You knew it sounded crazy, but you felt like Frank was someone you couldn’t live without. You’d known each other maybe a month, but it felt like years. You had a feeling he felt the same way.

He didn’t move, holding his hat with both hands in front of him. You stood up from the couch, turning to face him.

“Tell me you don’t feel like you’ve known me for years, like we were meant to meet.” You said, your face burning with embarrassment as you spoke. “Tell me you want to leave and never see me again. That you could just leave and never look back.” Your voice got caught in your throat.

“Y/N…” Frank whispered, taking a step forward.

“Cause if you tell me that, I’ll let you go. It’ll break my heart, but… I’ll let you go.” You bowed your head, closing your eyes, tears streaming silently down your cheeks. You felt a warm hand grasp your face, so gently. You looked up and was met with those eyes. They were glossy and sad.

“Frank,” You said so quietly.

“I can’t tell you those things, Y/N,” he replied. “I can’t lie to you.”

Your heart sped up as you looked up at him, his thumb grazing your cheek, wiping away fallen tears. You leaned forward, your head resting on his, both of you holding onto the moment with everything you had inside of you.

“I can’t let you go.” You whispered.

“You don’t deserve to live like a dead woman.”

“I’ll be with you.”

“What about your life? Your friends and family?”

“I don’t have any of that.” You told him that your parents were both dead and you didn’t have any other family. And friends were never your strong suit.

“But I—“ Frank continued. “I can’t put you in danger and you deserve so much better than—“

“You deserve to be happy, Frank.” You interrupted. “I know you don’t think you do, but you do.”

He was quiet. Standing there, you in front of him, your hands now intertwined in between you, he was in awe of you. He never thought he would feel like this again about someone. To him, you were perfect in every sense of the word.

“Please, Frank,” You stood on your toes and place a kiss on his cheek. Your lips felt the tear that had run down his lightly bruised face.

“You’re gonna have to start calling me, Pete,” he said, and both of you broke into the biggest smiles.

You jumped up into his arms in the tightest hug. Then you pulled away, looking at his sweet face. You both dove in at the same time with a deep kiss. It was full of so much love you both felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

“You are everything, Frank Castle.”

A few weeks passed and you both decided to get married. It was scary and something that was difficult for Frank, you could tell, and you didn’t blame him. But he loved you, simply and hard, so he knew it was right.

You changed your last name and quit your job and began to live a different life. A life away from the internet and the outside world. It was difficult to have to forget about your old life. More difficult than you thought it was going to be. You moved into a much smaller apartment and left everything of yours behind. You were dead after all, and you can’t take your things with you when you die.

You had contacted Karen before everything. She was the only person Frank trusted and you wanted to make sure she knew that you were both okay. She was so happy for you both.

Now here you were, months later, that honestly felt like years. Frank had distanced himself from you and you had curled in on yourself too. Things were rough. The routine was the same and everything was stuck in a time loop.

Frank had cleared his plate, now taking a shower. You turned on the clock radio for some music while you tackled the messy kitchen. Music was a safe place for you and it was nice to at least have the radio to keep you company. Then a love song came on that you adored. It was one of those songs that you can’t help but sway to. Frank came out of the bathroom soon after it started, but you hardly noticed as you were lost in the tune. You were standing over the sink, washing a plate, swaying to the slow beat. You did notice Frank enter the small, kitchen area, but you were caught off guard when he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You were stiff for a moment, but quickly softened into his embrace. You laid your head back against his shoulder as you both swayed from side to side, lost in the lyrics.

“You’re my, my, my, my… Lover.”

You felt Frank’s warm breath against your neck. It was so comforting. His arms tightened around you and you dropped the plate in the dish water, moving your soapy hands to on top of Frank’s. This was everything.

The song ended, it wasn’t long enough. You turned to face Frank, looking into his eyes. His eyes. You hadn’t looked at them and gotten that feeling in so long.

“Frank,” you said with your breath, your hand grasping his bearded cheeks.

You felt his hands grasp your hips tightly, and you both leaned in, your lips pressing firmly against each other. Things got a little brighter as the night went on.

...

380 notes · View notes

skiesofthesketchy · 4 years

Text

Stood Up {1}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You have a date with your friend that you’ve liked forever, but he never shows up.

Note: Heyyyyy Please read the warnings before proceeding. This is one of the darker things I’ve ever written, and it might trigger some people so please be careful. I’m usually a fluff writer but I’ve been feeling... ya know, down lately so this is what I made. I’m working on the second part to Unsend still, but haven’t been in the mood lately so sorry it’s taking so long!

Let me know what you think! :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Stood Up: {Part 2} / { Part 3}

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

10:00 PM

I pulled my sweater tighter against me when I felt a small burst of wind, the chill making goosebumps surface on my bare legs. I looked left and right down the black street, but nobody was around. It was quiet, almost silent besides dried leaves scraping against the pavement, and the only light was the orange glow from the street lamps and the red neon sign above my head casting onto the empty street. It was a nice night, even with the cool breeze, but I could feel my nerves kicking in.

I tried to remain optimistic though. Maybe he’s just running late... I pulled out my phone again to see if JJ had texted me back, but he hadn’t.

On my way! See in you 20 :)

I sighed, looking at the last text I sent him. I only sent it hoping to remind him that we had plans tonight in case he forgot. He always forgets.

‘He’s just a forgetful person,’ I tell myself for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s usually that phrase that makes me feel better, or ‘He’s got a lot going on.’ I never make it a big deal when he misses our plans, even though it feels like a small piece of my heart breaks off and dies every time it happens.

‘This time is different though,’ I told myself. It was just yesterday that I mentioned the movie theater was showing a bunch of Quentin Tarantino films this week. I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, just a fun thing me and my friends could all do together, but I was truly very excited about it and really hoped they’d be down.

“Are they showing Kill Bill?” JJ asked with a smile. The other pogues didn’t seem interested but I was happy that JJ was.

“Yeah. Tomorrow night actually,” I shrugged.

“We should go.”

I smiled softly at him. “Sure, if you want to.”

He chuckled, blue eyes lighting up as he poked my cheek. I knew he could see right past my nonchalant demeanor. “That’s your favorite movie ever. Of course I want to go see it with you! My treat.”

I ignored the fluttering in my belly, but couldn’t hide my smile. He remembers my favorite movie and wants to watch it with me. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I shook my head with a laugh. I didn’t expect him to, but the fact that he offered made my chest warm. JJ doesn’t have much money to begin with, and with what he does have, he usually spends on weed and beer, necessities in his daily life.

“No, no,” he tsked, bringing me into a hug. My giddy grin was thankfully hidden in his chest. Being this close to him always makes me feel lighter than air, warmer than the summer breeze. “You’re my girl. Let me take you out,” he finished, chuckling into my hair.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, like I always did when he called me his girl. I nodded in agreement once I pulled away from his embrace. “Ten o’clock tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll be there,” he replied, saluting me with a wink before turning to join the conversation the rest of the pogues were engaged in, leaving me to internally gush about going on a date with the boy I’ve liked since forever.

Maybe it wasn’t a date, or maybe it was. I didn’t really know, but I didn’t care as long as I got to spend time with JJ. It really did feel like this time was different. My thoughts swirled, wondering if he likes me back. Wanting to take me to a movie makes it sound like he likes me, right?

Date or not, I wanted to look nice, so I spent more time getting ready than I normally did. I experimented with some light makeup, trying to make it subtle but still pretty. I left my hair down after making it look somewhat decent, something I hardly ever do because my go-to is always putting it up. I even picked out a dress to wear but made sure to choose one that JJ had seen me in plenty of times. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but still hoped he would notice my appearance and think I looked pretty.

10:10 PM

The movie started ten minutes ago, and still no word from JJ. I glanced down at my shoes and hugged myself tighter. ‘Maybe he did forget... again.’ I didn’t want to believe it, giving JJ the benefit of the doubt like I always did. But he still wasn’t here.

Yo are you coming? I sent another text.

I was really excited about tonight, not just because I’d be seeing one of my favorite movies in the theaters as if it was premiering for the first time. Now I just feel... heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of the reality I should’ve realized a long time ago. If I was important to him, he would remember our plans.

My frown deepened. That’s what it comes down to, right? If he actually cared about me, he would be here, or at least tell me he’s not going to make it. Constantly forgetting our plans is a huge sign that he doesn’t like me the way I like him, that I don’t matter to him enough to follow through. It’s a sign I’ve been ignoring even though it’s been there the whole time, blaringly obvious and all too painful.

No. JJ does care about me, even if it’s just as a friend. He’ll be here. He told me he would be.

10:20 PM

Spinning around and looking at the movie theater entrance, I thought about going inside and watching the movie anyway, but I suddenly wasn’t up for it anymore. This sick feeling in my gut was all I could think about.

Of course JJ doesn’t like me. Why did I get my hopes up so high when all he’s ever done is not show up? It hurts. It feels like something crawled up inside of me and slashed its claws at my dumb, naive heart. Its terrifying and hoarse voice whispering in my ear, “What did you expect?”

Perhaps this is my fault; letting myself fall for someone that doesn’t feel the same. JJ Maybank: one of my closest friends, the biggest player on the whole damn island, and the most emotionally unavailable boy I’ve ever met. Of course I had to fall for him. I’m a fucking idiot.

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated and tired. It’s like I was tossed to the side without a second thought, much like the trash lining the curb. My throat tightened with the emotions threatening to pour out in sobs, but I held them back. It’s not his fault. I’m the one with these stupid feelings, waiting around for him to feel them too, but he doesn’t.

10:30 PM

I checked my phone one last time, still nothing. With a deep sigh, I started walking towards the direction of my house. I focused my attention on my sandals hitting the sidewalk, each step feeling like another crack in my heart.

‘You’re fine,’ I told myself. ‘Don’t cry. You’re fine.’

But I wasn’t, and I felt the stubborn tears brim my eyes. I turned the corner and this street was much darker, the street lights dim and far apart. The sound of someone else’s footsteps pricked my ears, and I kept my head down to hide my frustration and the sadness running down my cheeks. I wanted the footsteps to belong to JJ, finally showing up but just a bit late. I knew better though, and didn’t bother looking up.

“Well, look who it is. A little pougie.” I halted in my tracks, my eyes flicking up to find his cold ones, and I shot him a glare. As if I needed something to make my night even worse. Fucking Rafe.

“Not even gonna say hello?” he asked. I kept my posture stiff and my stare hard, trying to act tough even though I was most certainly in a vulnerable state.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” Rafe was predictable in the way that he lived to torture me and my friends. That’s the only reason he’d ever be caught dead in The Cut.

He stopped right in front of me, his tall frame dark and intimidating. Even under the blanket of night I could see his eyes were bloodshot and a sickening smirk lined his lips. He ignored my question as his eyes dragged up and down my body, making my stomach twist and skin crawl. “Where’s the rest of your dirty crew?” he spat.

“You’re lucky they’re not here.” I kept my tone steady, but I could feel my hands start to shake and an uneasy feeling settled inside of me. I need to get out of here.

With hands stuffed in his pockets, he leisurely walked around me, eyes still glued to my bare legs. “You look pretty,” he whispered. “Were you on a date?”

“No.”

“Then why are you all dressed up, darlin’?” His gaze met mine again when I spun around to face him, and with the way his features slightly softened, he probably noticed that I had been crying. “Oh. You were stood up, huh?”

Is it that obvious? “No,” I snapped.

He chuckled darkly, stepping even closer to me, and I took a step back. “His loss.” Then he just stood there staring at me while I was lost in a sea of confusion. Is he trying to be nice?

“Well. It’s been not so nice talking to you. I’m going home now.” I turned around to escape this unpleasant conversation, but I was spun back around with the man’s grip on my arm.

“Don’t leave. I’m not done talking to you.” I felt fear creep under my skin as I looked up at his face again, hardly able to make out anything but his eyes. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“Leave me alone.” I tried to snatch my arm out of his grasp, but he pushed me into the brick wall of the building we were in front of.

The sudden movement caused me to stumble and twist my ankle. “Ow! Rafe, what the fuck!” I felt the pain shoot up my leg, but couldn’t focus on it for long. Rafe’s menacing features had panic surging through my veins as he came closer.

I pressed my back into the hard wall trying to separate myself as much as I could from the man towering over me. “You’ve had a rough night. Let me make you feel better,” he said. He stepped into me, his chest pressing against mine as he looked down at me.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I choked out.

His wicked laugh fanned over my face and I felt angry tears fall. “Come on, little poguie. At least I actually want you.” His words seemed to drive a knife into my chest. JJ doesn’t want me, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. I can hardly think of anything right now.

My palms rose to his chest, but he caught my wrists in his hands, keeping me from shoving him off. He laughed again, and the realization that Rafe isn’t sober washed over me like a tidal wave. What have I gotten myself into? “Let me go!” I screamed.

He shut me up by forcing his mouth onto mine. I screamed against his lips but he pressed into me harder. I started thrashing my body under the weight of his, but his hold became tighter. He brutally clutched both of my wrists into one of his large hands while the other came up to slap over my mouth, cutting off my cries.

“Just let it happen, darlin. Enjoy it,” he whispered into my ear. Hot tears ran down my face as I felt his lips on my neck. He sucked harshly on my skin as I squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but I couldn’t. Even if I couldn’t, I would die trying.

His mouth attacked my throat while I struggled between him and the wall. With the adrenaline pumping through my body, I used all of my strength and pushed him as hard as I possibly could. With the few inches I created between us, I picked my leg up and stomped my heel into his foot.

I prepared to bolt with the time I had bought myself, but a second later he was landing a ruthless slap to my face. I registered the burning pain as he pinned me to the wall with his body again. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it, pogue.” His sudden anger shook me to my core, his sick laugh echoing in my ears like a fire alarm.

His hand landed on my thigh and dragged along my skin, pushing my dress up higher and higher as I felt the screams get caught in my throat. I dug my nails into his arms but he wasn’t bothered. He kissed me again and I took his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I tasted blood.

He yanked his head back, face twisting in rage. Even with his violating hands still searing into my skin, I brought my knee up into his crotch, and he yelled in pain. I didn’t waste any time and took off running, but I was yanked back by my hair.

“Fucking bitch!” My head throbbed as I crashed to the ground, feeling my elbows scrape the pavement. I was seeing stars as I felt Rafe’s weight drop on top of me, his form straddling me. I threw my fists wildly into his stomach and chest, desperately trying anything to escape him, but I knew my efforts were becoming futile. His ring-clad fist connected with my cheekbone and a sob crawled its way up my throat.

“Stop!” I screamed. His hand suddenly grabbed my throat, cutting off my cries once again. I clawed at his skin to get him to stop, but he only increased the pressure on my esophagus until I couldn’t breathe, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My world was spinning and my terror didn’t let me register the pain anymore, only the horrendous realization of what’s happening to me taking over my thoughts.

After what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, I felt his breath fan over my face from where he hovered over me. “You’re not fucking worth the trouble.” He released my neck and I felt him get off of me, but I dared not open my eyes. I was too scared of what might happen. It surely became known when I felt a sharp kick to my stomach. I whimpered, then he landed another kick to my side. “Nobody wants you now! Nobody will ever want you! You’re just a dirty little pogue,” he seethed.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat again, and I heard his heavy footsteps as he stormed off, leaving me on the ground in pieces.

11:00 PM

I finally sat up, finding the strength to put myself together again, but was pulled into a coughing fit, my throat burning. I wish I could say I was numb, but I was brutally aware of the torment my body has been through, of the emotional trauma I’d have to live with.

I carefully stood to my feet but folded in half with arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching myself in pain. Everything hurts. I forced myself to straighten, holding back the tears. I felt broken in every way possible, but I willed myself to figure out how to get help.

I picked up my bag that had been tossed to the ground and rummaged through it for my cell phone. With a heavy heart, I called the one person that I needed more than anyone.

But of course, he didn’t answer. More tears were shed, even though it felt like I couldn’t possibly cry anymore. “Answer, goddammit,” I sobbed. I called again. “Please, JJ. Please. I need you.” Again, the call went to voicemail.

I let out a wail of anguish. Even with nasty bruises already forming on my skin, the loud shatter of my heart is what hurt the most. He’s never here. Even when I need him.

I didn’t even want to call anyone else. My ankle, my face, my stomach, my throat. Even though I was shaking in pain, I wanted to wallow in my heartbreak alone, so I slowly started walking again, and limped all the way home.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“How was the movie last night?”

I stretched my arms over my head with a yawn, barely registering what John B. asked. “Huh?”

He chuckled and sat next to me on the pullout couch in the living room where I slept. “You got back pretty late last night. I’m guessing you and Y/N had a good time?” Now I’m thinking it’s not just my sleep induced brain that’s making me so confused.

“What do you mean? I wasn’t with Y/N,” I groaned while rubbing my eyes, the sunlight seeping through the windows too bright and annoying.

“What do you mean, dude?” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “You were supposed to take her to a movie last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, getting even more annoyed. He doesn’t have a right to be pissed at me, not when I have no idea what he’s even pissed about. It’s too fucking early for this shit.

John B. stood up with a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you forgot again, man. Seriously?”

I sat up, my anger matching his now. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He shook his head before looking at me again, baffled.

“Y/N? Kill Bill? You guys had a date planned.”

I glared at him before realization finally hit me. I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Fuck. Was that supposed to be last night?”

He shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, really.” I sighed. It was an honest mistake. At least I know she’ll forgive me. She always forgives me.

“I’ll fix it. I’m sure she won’t be mad.” John B. rolled his eyes. “And it wasn’t a date, by the way.”

“Yeah? Did you tell her that?”

“Stop talking in riddles, man. What the hell do you mean? Of course she knows.” He hit me on the back of the head, reminding me of my headache, the dreaded hangover starting to take effect. “Hey! What was that for?”

“She likes you, idiot! No idea why, considering you’re just a dick that doesn’t bother to show up to the plans you guys make.”

“Is this why you’re yelling at me? She doesn’t like me, dude. Not like that,” I rolled my eyes. I could punch him for getting on my case over nothing. Y/N doesn’t like me, and missing plans has never been a big deal. I just want to deal with my hangover in peace.

“You don’t deserve her. And she doesn’t deserve your shit,” he said, walking away into the kitchen.

“You’re getting mad over nothing. Fuck off,” I grunted, head in my hands. I need coffee and advil. His yelling is making my headache worse.

He sauntered back into the living room, throwing a bottle of painkillers at me, too forcefully if you ask me. “Just tell me, if you weren’t with Y/N, what did you do last night?”

I smirked, remembering the events that took place. “A hot blonde that I met at the boneyard,” my smirk widened. I expected some sort of congratulations from my best friend like usual, but I was met with a scoff and a water bottle being thrown at me.

“You’re a prick. You know that?”

“And you’re an asshole. What do you want from me?”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just hope Y/N forgives you this time,” he snapped, walking away and finally leaving me in much needed silence.

“She will!” I yelled after him, hearing his bedroom door slam shut.

I sighed before gulping down the painkillers for my headache. I grabbed my discarded shorts from yesterday on the floor and grabbed my phone out of the pocket. I had forgotten that I put it on Do Not Disturb mode after the hot blonde and I left the party. Girls like it when you give them all of your attention, and aren’t distracted by calls and texts.

I sighed again when I saw the text’s from Y/N.

9:36 PM: On my way! See you in 20 :)

10:10 PM: Yo are you coming?

I sure feel like an asshole now. I hoped that she would’ve watched the movie without me anyway, but considering she called me twice at 11:00, she probably didn’t. I feel even worse now that I can see she waited over an hour for me. I typed out a text to her, but I wasn’t sure how to word this apology.

Hey, sorry I missed out last night. Got held up :)

I opted for keeping it nonchalant, not wanting to make this a big deal. I’ll make sure she knows how sorry I am the next time I see her. I’m not worried though. She’s the only one out of the pouges that doesn’t get mad at me when I do stupid shit, and she always forgives me. This time won’t be any different.

I laid back down with my arm covering my eyes, and I thought about what John B. said. Y/N doesn’t like me. She’d be stupid to like a fuck up like me. No, no, we’re just friends, and have been for years. I laughed at the thought.

John B. was right about one thing, though. I definitely don’t deserve her. She’s way too good for me, especially when I’m not good to her.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I stood in front of the mirror and peered at my naked body in the reflection, tears spilling down my cheeks for what felt like the millionth time.

My eye was swollen and bruised, a cut on my cheek from Rafe’s ring. Large spots of sickly green and deep violet stained my torso. Dark rings around my wrists from his tight grip. A lighter purple ring wrapped around my neck from where Rafe’s hands had cut off my breathing.

My hot tears dripped from my face and landed on my collarbone, bringing my attention to the hickeys littering the side of my neck too. I wanted to vomit. I could take the physical assault, but that’s not all this was. He violated me. Kissed me. Sucked on my neck while his hands traveled under my dress.

Going to the police was a thought that bounced through my mind, but I couldn’t, not yet at least. I was much too unstable. I needed support if I was going to report it, but I still hadn’t told anyone what happened. I spent all of yesterday locked in my room, letting myself wallow in the pain.

JJ had texted me yesterday morning, apologizing for not showing up. A simple text wasn’t enough this time. He texted me again that afternoon.

I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t be mad at me :(

I wasn’t mad. I was heartbroken, and didn’t bother responding to that text either. If he had shown up, I wouldn’t have been assaulted by Rafe. If he was there, we would have been happily watching my favorite movie, eating snacks and probably laughing at the gore displayed on the screen. If he was there, I wouldn’t have been crying in the dark streets alone, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I could have been raped. That I was almost raped.

The other pogues were trying to get a hold of me yesterday too, inviting me to their plans, but I never responded to anyone. I didn’t want to face them, or anyone for that matter. I didn’t even think I wanted to tell them what happened. It was all too much, and I didn’t want to relive it by telling anyone what Rafe had done to me. Not to mention it would add even more ammunition to the war between us and the kooks.

I don’t feel any different today, still just wanting to curl up in bed and be alone for probably forever, but I don’t have that luxury today. My mom had left for work this morning before I even woke up, but she sent me a text asking me to run some errands. When I protested, she gave me the whole lecture on how I only ever spend time with the pogues and never help out. I didn’t have a choice.

With one last glance in the mirror, I wiped the tears off my face and started getting dressed. I had to cover the bruises somehow, but makeup was not going to do the trick. Despite the hot temperature outside, I threw on a large sweatshirt over my sports bra. If I put the hood on, nobody would notice the disgusting marks lining my neck. I found a pair of my mom’s oversized sunglasses and they covered enough of my face to hide the cut on my cheek along with the black eye. I put on shorts and shoes and grabbed my bag before looking in the mirror one last time. Nobody would notice.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“Have you guys heard from Y/N?” Pope asked the group. “She hasn’t responded to any of my texts for like two days.” I frowned. At least I wasn’t the only one she was ignoring. I thought that she was probably still mad at me for bailing on our plans, but since she isn’t responding to Pope either, maybe she’s just busy with other things.

“No, I haven’t,” Kie answered. “Pretty weird, right?”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s up.” Pope’s face looked concerned suddenly, and I found my own expression matching his.

“Why don’t you ask JJ here,” John B. said, tone sharp with annoyance. Kie and Pope both whipped their heads towards me, eyebrows raised in question. I just scoffed, turning my attention back to waxing my board.

“What the hell did you do?” Pope asked. His accusing words pissed me off. Who said this was my fault?

“Nothing, okay? I just forgot we had plans, and--” I was cut off by John B.

“No surprise there,” he mumbled under his breath.

Kiara sighed, her disappointed eyes casting down on me. “Seriously, JJ?”

“What? You guys can’t pin the blame on me! I got distracted, it wasn’t my fault.”

John B. scoffed and I wanted to punch him, much like yesterday morning. “Yeah, what was her name again? The distraction, I mean.” I rolled my eyes.

“Come on, dude. Not cool,” Pope added with a shake of his head. With all three of them staring at me in dismay, it felt like my friends were attacking me. It’s also like they knew something I didn’t. Why is everything always my fault?

“Stop turning it into a big deal. I just forgot, okay? I already apologized, so it’s fine.”

“So she forgave you?” JB asked, eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer.

“Well, no...” I let my head drop, looking down at the golden sand with all of our beach gear. “She never responded. But come on, this is Y/N we’re talking about! She never stays mad for long.” The words were meant to get my friends off my back, but I found myself taking comfort in them too. I had never really seen Y/N mad before, but if she actually was mad at me, I hoped she’d let me make it up to her and forgive me. I let myself believe that everything would be fine.

Nobody had anything else to say, only sighing and turning their gazes away from me. I felt the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach, but at least they dropped the subject. I’m more upset that this might actually be my fault. ‘Y/N isn’t the type to get mad easily,’ I reminded myself again. But she’s also not the type to ignore her friends. My mind drifted, wondering if she’s okay.

“Eat up, boys,” Kie said, taking a stack of sandwiches out of the cooler she brought. We all sat down on our towels and started eating, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N from my mind. Maybe I should text her again.

Hey. We’re all at the beach having lunch if you wanna join us. Even if you don’t, that’s ok. Just let me know you got this. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you...

I typed it out, but couldn’t bring myself to send it. If she really is ignoring us, I’m sure it’s for a good reason. Maybe it’s best to just give her space. She’ll reach out when she wants to. Whatever the reason, though, I really hope it’s not because of me. She’s the one person I can always count on to be on my side, and I don’t know what I’d do if I was the cause of her distancing from us.

“Oh, no way. It’s Y/N!” Pope interrupted my thoughts. My head turned to see where he was looking, and sure enough, it was my girl, passing through the boardwalk.

Pope was up on his feet and ran to her, calling over his shoulder that he’ll bring her over to us.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y/N! Hey!” I stopped in my tracks when I heard my name being shouted, and I noticed Pope running up from behind me.

“Oh, hey Pope,” I said, trying to swallow down my nerves. I didn’t plan on running into my friends here. I didn’t need them finding out about what happened the other night, so I put on a half-hearted smile, trying to act normal, trying to act okay.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked with a laugh, pulling me into a bear hug. I held back my wince from where he grabbed my sides, the bruises there shooting pain through my body.

“Oh, ya know,” I gulped. “Just busy with my family.” I was glad that my sunglasses were dark enough so that he couldn’t see my eyes. If he could, he’d know I was lying within seconds. “Sorry I’ve been M.I.A.”

“It’s alright. Come on. We’re having lunch right now.” He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the beach, and the other pogues sitting together on the beach came into my focus.

My eyes widened. “Uh, no, Pope. Sorry, but I have to go.” He stopped and gave me a weird look. “I... I’m running errands for my mom,” I shrugged, hoping he would let me go so that I don’t have to talk to the others, talk to JJ.

“Just come say hi then. Everyone missed you!” He tugged my hand again, but I didn’t budge from where I planted my feet in the sand.

“No, Pope. Really, I have to get going.” I didn’t have any other excuses up my sleeve, and I could feel my resolve coming undone. He gave me another weird look, probably wondering what the hell is going on with me. I wanted to tell him. I did, really. But I was not ready to talk about it. I didn’t need him or the others seeing what I looked like under this sweatshirt, or the black eye I was sporting under my glasses. I knew it would only cause more problems, more rage, and I couldn’t handle that right now. If anything, I just needed a hug.

“Is everything okay?” I looked down at my feet and sighed, trying to muster up the strength to lie to one of my best friends. When I looked back up to him, he had sent a look towards the pogues, and they all got up and started making their way over.

“Yes, Pope. I’m fine,” I breathed out a laugh, trying to cover up my panic. “I gotta go, now. Really.” I turned around to run away, but I was too late. The pogues had already crossed the beach and were surrounding me.

“Y/N! Hey, we missed you!” Kie smiled, pulling me into a hug. Again, I had to hide my grimace from the pain that engulfed me so that my friends couldn’t see. I knew I couldn’t keep up this act for long, and I felt my heart sinking further into my chest.

“Yeah, I’m glad we ran into you,” John B. smiled with a nod in my direction. His expression was soft and kind, and it strangely made me feel like he understood that I wasn’t all the way okay.

“There’s my girl,” JJ’s voice rang through my ears. He looked relieved, and pulled me into his chest, squeezing me tight. This time, I wasn’t able to hold in the small noise that escaped past my lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at me with concern. “You okay?”

I pushed him away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I couldn’t put on a half-assed smile this time. He’s the one causing my pain. The one that bailed on me. The one that wasn’t there when I needed him, leaving me alone and in broken pieces on that horrible night.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt?” Kie laughed. “It’s like one hundred degrees out here.” I just shrugged my shoulders, even though I was dying under the heavy material and the heat of the sun. I looked over my shoulder down the boardwalk, trying to avoid their worried glances, especially JJ’s. I could feel his eyes burning into me, and I couldn’t bear the weight of it for much longer.

“Yeah, what the hell? It’s burning hot out here,” Pope added, and pulled my hood off my head.

“Pope, don’t,” I said. “I have to go.” I turned away after putting my hood back on and started walking, not even caring that they definitely know something’s wrong now. I just need to get away before I break down.

JJ was the one to catch up to me, leaving the pogues behind us and sharing worried looks. “Y/N, wait.” He grabbed my wrist, and I winced at the contact. “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for missing our plans. I got held up with a touron, and you know how it is. She was so hot, how could I not go home with her?” he laughed. Looking up at him, I felt my heart shatter all over again. Of course. He wasn’t with me because he was hooking up with some girl. This fucking hurts more than the punch Rafe landed to my face, and I felt anger swell inside of me.

“Come on, you’re not mad at me, are you?” He smiled, bringing his hands up to cradle my face. He was being his charming self like usual, which is precisely the reason I even fell for him in the first place. But his cute dimples and bright eyes aren’t going to fix anything this time. If anything, they’re just another stab to my chest.

He could sense I wasn’t giving into him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise,” he pouted. My lips parted to speak, but no words tumbled out. He suddenly ripped my sunglasses from my face.

“JJ, don’t!” His face dropped at the sight of my bruised eye. The glasses fell to the sand when he stepped closer to me, eyes scanning my face. I pushed him back, but he swatted my hands away.

“Y/N?” His features quickly turned from worried to angry. “What the fuck happened?” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I held them back as I tried to push him away again. He yanked my hood off my head and I knew he was piecing it all together now.

He reached for the bottom of my sweatshirt, and my hands grabbed at his to try and stop him. “Leave me alone,” I yelled, but he didn’t. Despite my attempts to stop him, he had grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and started pulling it up over my head. “JJ, stop!” I yelled again, but I couldn’t fight him back anymore because it hurt too much. He had taken it all the way off, leaving me just in my sports bra, my beaten body on full display.

A series of gasps surrounded me as the other pogues gathered around us again, shocked and bewildered expressions on their faces. I watched JJ scan my body. His eyes lingered on the bruises on my belly before flicking to my face again, and then my neck. With the way his eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his jaw, I could tell he was examining the hickeys on my skin. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, and the silence was deafening.

“Oh, Y/N...” Kie whispered, eyes becoming glossy.

“What the fuck happened?!” JJ burst. His face was twisted in rage as his hands reached for me. I stepped away, but he grabbed my arms. “Who the fuck did this to you?!” I shook my head, trying to swallow the sob that was making its way up my throat. “Y/N, who the fuck was it?!”

“JJ! Lay off!” John B. spoke up. Kie had wrapped her arms around me, wanting to shield me from our angry friend. They could tell JJ wasn’t helping.

John B. and Pope pulled at JJ’s arms to get him to step back, but he exploded even more. “YN! Tell me who did this to you!” Seeing his reddened face and furious eyes made my own burning anger swim to the surface.

“Stop yelling at her!” Pope told JJ, him and JB still holding the blonde away from me.

“No! I swear to god I’m going to kill ‘em. What the FUCK happened??”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had bothered to SHOW UP!” I flared, my voice slicing through the chaos among the group. My heated gaze met JJ’s, and his entire face fell at my words, the rage washing away from his pools of blue and replaced with sadness.

Everything seemed to still at my outburst, even my tears. I watched as JJ crumbled beneath the weight of my words. As angry and heartbroken and hurt as I was, I wanted to see him this way. I wanted him to feel guilty.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t show up. I should've known you wouldn’t answer when I called you for help. Because you never do.” With every word I spat, I could see the effect they had on him. I kept my ruthless stare fixed on him. “Congrats on fucking some touron, though.”

Everyone stayed silent as I picked up my sweatshirt and sunglasses from the sand. I glanced at JJ one last time before putting my glasses back on and turning around, leaving everyone behind me without another word.

***

Read: Stood Up - Part 2

Masterlist

***

#outer banks #outer banks fic #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #angst #jj maybank fic #jj x reader #rudy pankow #skiesofthesketchy #bricksatans #stood up

2K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

In Name Only - Part 14

A/N: Hello friends, I’m so excited to share another chapter of INO with you! I hope you still love it as much as I do! Please note, I did do some research for this chapter, so what you’re reading is pretty much historically accurate! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: mentions of violence and injury

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

The journey back to Sunspear took just shy of a week and was...surprisingly tranquil compared to your brief stay in Starfall. It was such a shame really, because it was a beautiful place and the people were kind, except for the lady of the house herself. She hadn’t been inherently mean, no, you’d be lying if you said she was, but she just rubbed you the wrong way. The very wrong way with her accusations and contrite words against your beloved.

When you had left, your eyes had scanned the wood for any signs of the mysterious woman you had met. You were still questioning your own mental state and really did wonder if you had imagined the whole thing. But surely...you hadn’t made it all up....

That morning at breakfast before your departure, you politely declined the tea that was placed in front of you without so much as a word. Oberyn had glanced in your direction for just a moment but if his suspicions were raised, he didn’t show it. When you had departed, he had briefly asked what happened and you were upfront with him as you had vowed to be. You had nothing to hide from him, and no reason to ever feel the need, so why would you now?

“Moon tea,” you had told him calmly with a shrug of your shoulders as his left eyebrow arch raised in surprise as it was prone to doing. He opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him by gently putting your hand on his chest and giving him a small kiss, “don’t worry...there’s no need. Even if I thought….I could, I would not take it, dear husband.”

“Is that what the hurry to leave is about?” he asked quietly, an arm protectively finding its way around your waist. Stiffening for a moment, you gave him a small nod as he cast a furtive glance back at the castle, “did she do anything to you?”

“No,” you insisted, deciding to leave out the little detail that you had in fact drank the tea yesterday in a moment of confusion and worry, “she just...she drinks it in order to keep from falling pregnant by other men. Apparently she and her husband do not have great relations and she knows she can only have a child when there is no doubt that it is his heir.”

“Oh,” he said softly as you nodded, making sure that no one overheard your private conversations. If something was going to be spilling their secrets, you were going to make sure it was not you, “I see...why would she encourage you to drink it? We are married.”

A small pit formed in your stomach as you looked at him, offering him a soft smile before touching his cheek gently. He keened as into your warmth as he always did, and your heart felt like it broke a little. All the nasty accusations thrown out about him were disgusting and you would never allow anyone to do such a thing again. Next time you would have a more rigid backbone.

“She…” you trailed for a moment as you looked at him, finding his honeyed eyes watching you intently, “I love you, Oberyn. You know that, right?”

“Of course, my sunshine,” he promised, pressing a feather light kiss to the palm of your hand, “and I love you. More and more every passing day.”

“Lady Dayne is not immune to gossip and appears to love stirring up trouble when there is no need,” you decided to leave it at that as you walked over to your horses, pulling Oberyn along behind you. Part of you hoped he would leave it, let it go and be done with it, but you knew your husband better than that. He was silent as he helped you on your mare before mounting his steed. You could practically feel his eyes boring into you, so you turned to him, “Oberyn. People talk and spread rumors of things they know nothing about…”

“About me,” he said meekly, causing you to nod, “about-”

“It does not matter to me,” you cut him short, “I know the truth, you know the truth, and the people that matter do as well. That’s all that matters.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” just as you were growing proficient at reading him, he was the same with you.

“She said you would grow bored of me soon and then toss me to the side,” you finally admitted, “that you would tire of me once I am no longer shiny and new and find another plaything.”

Oberyn’s mouth hung open ever so slightly as his heart seemed to break slightly at your words - the shake to your voice. He reached for your hand and took it in his much larger one, giving it a tight squeeze, “that is not true. None of it. I-I -”

“I know, Oberyn,” you promised gently, almost wishing you hadn’t said anything at all at the upset look on his face, “that is what I meant - she likes to worry about things that do not concern and stir the pot when there is no need. I don’t like the lies or the negativity, which is largely the reason for my request for a sudden departure.”

“You know I would never do that to you,” he said softly, “that is not who I am, and I would not-”

“You have never given me a reason to doubt you, my love,” you insisted. He hadn’t; in fact he proved to you that you were his and he was yours, countless times, starting with when you had worried about a possible reconciliation with Ellaria, “and I do not. I have told you, as you have me, that if there comes a time when you wish to...take another lover you can do so.”

“That won’t happen,” he promised with an air of finality, “no one could take away the shine from my sunshine, not even on the most dreary of days, You have me, heart and soul forever, sweet girl.”

“You are a poet as much as a warrior and diplomat, my Prince,” you could practically feel yourself glowing under his praise as a gentle warmth flushed all over you, “I would be a fool to ever doubt your devotion.”

“Indeed you would,” he agreed with a small smirk, a bit of playfulness returning to his features. He spurred the steed on as he broke away from you, causing you to laugh before you chased after him. You would never have to worry about his love - that much you knew in your heart and soul.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Oh," the words crashed around your ears like a ton of bricks as you tried your best to keep a neutral expression on your face. The look on his was nothing but apologetic but the words still stung. You had just returned to Sunspear the evening before and here he was, ready to depart again. Although you had spent countless hours together recently, it didn't take this any easier. You'd spend all the hours of all your days with him if you could, “oh.”

"I am terribly sorry, my love," he said as you nodded, "Doran just informed me - apparently this is one of those times when I get no say in anything. But he's too poorly to travel right now, so I must take his place instead as it my duty as both his brother and as the Prince.”

"What about Arianne?" you pouted at him slightly, a last bit of a desperate plea to get him to stay as you tried to keep your lip from trembling too much.

"She is coming with me," he said gently, "she's learning, but she still needs guidance sometimes..."

"And what about me?" you asked as he sighed lightly, not at you, but the situation rather, "its safe, right? Now that the young Stark is King? There's no need to worry-"

"Sunshine," he said gently but with a firm as he reached up and put his hand on the back of your neck, "please, please just listen to me. I know it seems safe, but there are always dangers out there. People will try anything to tear each other down, and in other parts of the kingdom they will not hesitate to do so, with or without the Stark King and Queen in the North. I just want you here...where I know I will come back to you safe and sound."

"What about you?" you were misty eyed by now as you tried to retain whatever little bit of composure you had to begin with, "what if something happens to you? I would never forgive myself-"

"Nothing will happen to me," he promised as he rested his forehead against yours, gently wiping away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks, "no one would dare tread on the Red Viper. I will always, always, come back to you in one piece."

"Promise?" you asked meekly as you let your lips graze against his ever so slightly. You could feel his tug into a minute smile as he nodded; you never wanted to let him go.

"Always."

"And you'll be careful?"

"Of course."

"And you'll take Jeron and the best of your men with you?"

"Who will that leave you with here?"

"I have Asha," you reminded him of your young handmaiden that you adored beyond measure. You had been glad to reunite with her after almost a month apart, "and besides. I have all of Dorne at my side."

"I'm sorry about leaving so soon," he whispered as his hand started to slowly roam your body, pulling a small gasp from your lips, "I will make my stay as short as possible."

"Please do," you said softly, trying to stifle the moan from spilling last your lips, as he started to place light kisses along your jaw and neck, "I want you back here, in one piece as quickly as possible. I love you..."

"I love you too, sweet girl," he promised, "before I leave, let me show you how much..."

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What’s wrong?” Alistair asked, tugging lightly on your skirts as you turned to look at him. The small boy was watching you with wide, gentle eyes as he held a half eaten cookie in his hand. Your heart melted at the sight, and you quickly bent down to kiss the top of his dark, curly hair. You thought you had been masking your sadness and worry well enough, but apparently your efforts were not enough. It was hard enough to hide anything from a child anyway.

“Nothing, sweet boy,” you promised him, although the lie felt weak on your tongue and out loud, lingering slightly too long in the warm Dornish air, “I suppose I’m just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as you nodded, but before either of you could say anything else, he stretched out his hand to you, the cookie still in it, “do you want this? Cookies always make me feel better.”

“You…” you didn’t have it in your heart to say no, so you took the cookie and bit off a piece before offering him the remainder, which he eagerly accepted. The two of you ate it in silence, and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, and there was only a moment of hesitation before you scooped him up in your arms and held him tightly to your chest. He quickly snuggled up to you, “you are an absolute sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

“You just looked sad,” he said softly, “my sister always gives me cookies when I’m sad.”

“Well that’s very wise of you,” you said softly, putting him back down, “now, why don’t you go outside and play with the other kids? It’s a beautiful day.”

“Okay,” he agreed, going to the door to start heading out but quickly turned back to you, “if you’re still sad, you can come out and play with us!”

“Thank you,” you shot him a wink as he laughed, giving you a wave before he ran out into the warm, golden sunlight.

“The stress weighs heavy on you,” Asha commented as she came back, causing you to give her a tightlipped smile, “it is best not to worry.”

"How am I not to worry, Asha?" you mused as you started to cut up fresh fruit for a snack for the children, making it a point to avoid the berries that reminded you so much of your husband. Your hands were trembling slightly as you tried to focus on keeping your knife cuts neat and clean, "it has been over a fortnight since I have heard from Oberyn. This isn't like him..."

"Perhaps he's just very preoccupied," she offered, coming over to your side and motioning for you to hand her the knife. Sighing lightly, you gave it to her as doubts swirled your mind, "business can take longer than usual sometimes."

You huffed slightly as you leaned against the counter, "Arianne is home and safe...while couldn't the fool come back with her?"

"It will be okay," she insisted although she too was getting mildly worried. It wasn't like Oberyn to just seemingly drop off the face of the planet like this.

"What if it's not?" you tried not to cry and have a complete breakdown, "what if he's hurt o-or worse? What if he's..."

"Stop," she stated firmly, such an edge to her voice that your head snapped into her direction. The young woman seemed surprised by her own sharpness and she set down the knife and gave you an apologetic look, but you just shook your head, "Oberyn is not...he couldn't be. He's the Red Viper...he wouldn't just die."

Your lower lip started to tremble as you tried not to completely lose it. The idea that Oberyn could possibly be harmed, or even worse...dead was a possibility that you refused to fully accept. Something was causing a delay, you were sure of it. Oberyn wouldn't just...leave. Or unnecessarily delay his return. Right? Right. So then why were you questioning it?

"You're right," you agreed quietly, trying to hide the worry and concern in your voice. She didn't need to worry unnecessarily, and if she saw you worrying, she likely would also. You had to remain strong, for her, for everyone else, and most importantly for yourself. That was your job now, as his wife and one of the heads of the Martell family. You swallowed the lump in your throat before hastily pulling off your apron and tossing it onto the counter, "you're right, Asha. Its Oberyn - he would never let anything happen to him. If his return is delayed, its for a reason. A good one."

"Are you-"

"Stay here," you gave her shoulder a gentle touch, "please finish up my duties for the day. I have to return to the palace...I just remembered that I was to see Doran this afternoon."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Practically sprinting back to the palace, you pulled up your skirts and ignored the curious looks of the people you passed by. You didn’t care, nothing in that moment mattered besides getting back to Doran giving him a little surprise inquisition. He had been calm, terribly calm, the whole Oberyn time had been gone. If he thought something had happened to his young brother, he would have been worried, surely. Doran, you had come to realize, was a lot of things. He was a good man - smart, kind, funny at times, but above all else he was a man that was deeply devoted to his family. Just like all the Martells were; it was a trait that was strong through with all of them. Doran had to know something.

You waved off all the inquisitive shouts of your name and made a beeline for Doran’s study, opening the door without hesitation. You must have startled him greatly because the book that was in his hands fell and tumbled to the desk, and he made a small sound of surprise. Taking a moment to gather himself, he earmarked the page he was on, something that would greatly wound Oberyn if he was there to witness it, before setting it down and softly saying your name before turning to you. You could see that there was just a glint of nerves in his eyes.

“Where is Oberyn?” you asked him before slamming the door shut and striding over to his desk, a look of rage and anger on your face as your chest heaved up and down. Doran’s face paled as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to answer you. Putting your hands on his desk, you stared the older man down, “where is my husband?!”

“My dear, there is no reason to worry,” he insisted softly, trying to calm you down before you flew into an even bigger fit of rage. It was in that moment that he saw a little of Oberyn in you and he wondered if it was him rubbing off on you or your true self coming out. In reality, you were a calm, composed person, not prone to sudden mood swings, but now, in between your worry and fear, you were beyond yourself, “Oberyn is fine.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked softly, a dangerous edge to your words, “unless you’ve been speaking with him or you know something I don’t. Now tell me, why wouldn’t my husband tell me where he was or what he was doing?”

“Sometimes the nature of these things is confidential and they can take time and-”

“I’m his wife,” you reminded him firmly, “he has nothing to hide from me - he wouldn’t. If you won’t tell me what is going I’ll just go to King’s Landing myself and find him.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Try me,” you straightened up and crossed your arms over your chest as you stared him down, “who would dare to stop me? As much as I would hate to resort to this, I will use whatever pull I have, and I don’t think people would argue with Oberyn Martell’s wife.”

“You mustn’t resort to that,” he insisted quietly and you felt relieved and yet...you could see that he was still struggling with something. You signed lightly before softening your expression and coming to the conclusion that you might have gone on too fast and too hard, “I know where he is.”

“Oh,” you said in a surprised tone as you tried to figure out if that was a positive or negative thing, “oh. You knew this whole time? And y-you didn’t think to tell me?”

“It is was nothing to concern yourself over-”

“My husband is gone for weeks longer than he should be, I have been worried day and night and you didn’t think i should be concerned? If you’d at least have told me what was going on I wouldn’t be so upset!” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “I just...I don’t care about anything, but I just want to make sure he’s okay. That’s all that matters.”

“After he and Arianne finished their business in King’s Landing, Oberyn turned his attention to Old Town,” he explained as you almost jumped back in surprise.

“Old Town,” you repeated slowly, almost not able to believe the words he was saying. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to process the news, “Old Town...that’s the Reach...right by Honeyholt. Why on earth would he go there….without me? That’s my home...he didn’t mention…”

“He did not disclose his business to me either,” Doran admitted with a feeble sound from the back of his throat, “I pressed him to tell me and he refused. I encouraged the fool to tell you and he refused. Oberyn is a stubborn man when he wants to be and will not be forced into doing anything he does not fancy. I am sorry for I too have been a fool. I should have told you sooner - when he first informed me of his extended stay.”

“I just don’t...understand,” you admitted quietly, “what is there for him in Old Town? There’s nothing or there’s....”

Brothels. Plenty of them. Old Town was famous for many things but the most predominant things were by far the Citadel and the brothels that littered the land amply. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.

“Yes,” Doran acknowledged as you held out a hand out to steady yourself. You weren’t mad, you weren’t angry…you were just surprised. Surprised that he hadn’t told you of his whereabouts, of his intentions, of anything really. You were sure that you could tell him anything and vice versa. But apparently you had been mistaken, “I am sorry, young one. But I would not worry about his safety or well-being. He should return soon, and I am sure in one piece. The rumors about him...his tendencies...I would not worry about them. They’re just rumors - folly.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” you pulled your trembling lips into a tight smile in order to keep yourself from crying. You felt like a fool - not because you had trusted or loved Oberyn, you still did to both, but for worrying for nothing. It was not your position to be angry for taking solace in the comfort of other beds if that was indeed what he had done. You’d made that clear many, many times. But you wished he would have told you something, anything instead of keeping you waiting around.

“Do not worry-”

“I am not worried,” you insisted meekly, “not anymore. As long as I know he’s safe, that’s all that matters to me.”

“You do not have to worry about his devotion to you-”

“Lady Martell?” the door to Doran’s slowly opened and a young man who recognized from around the palace grounds stuck his head in. You quieted any sniffles that had welled up and quickly dabbed at your wet eyes before turning to him. You offered him the warmest smile you could muster up as he looked between you and the older prince, clearly sensing that something heavy had just been discussed, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt. The Maester asked me to summon you.”

The Maester. Of course. In your haste and worry over your husband, you’d completely forgotten that you’d agreed to go and see the Maester that very afternoon. Sighing lightly, you nodded at him, “let him know I will be there in just a few moments.”

“The Maester?” Doran asked as you refused to meet his eyes, “is everything alright, my dear?”

“Quite,” you answered softly, “I suppose I will see you at dinner then. I-I’m sorry for coming and causing a scene for no reason.”

“There is no need for apologies,” he insisted as you offered a curt nod in response before seeing yourself out of his study. You did want to pity yourself and your foolish heart, but you didn’t have time for that now. That would wait until later, when you were in your chambers by yourself.

Straightening your shoulders, you tried to hold yourself as tall as possible as you crossed the palace grounds in search of the Maester. You’d never met him before, but you were sure that he would be as kind as everyone else in Dorne. You just weren’t so thrilled that you’d have to meet him in this state. It was no matter though, he was the Maester after all, he’d likely seen much worse.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You knocked on the door to the Maester’s chambers and were quickly called in but not by a voice you had been expecting - it was a soft woman’s voice. Stepping inside, you looked around the beautiful sunlight quarters, already feeling at ease. Scanning the rooms you saw all sorts of vials and bottles containing liquids and concoctions of all different colors and consistencies. The soft, delicate scent of warm spices lingered in the air. At the other end of the large room you saw a woman, modestly dressed with a kind face that appeared to be around Oberyn’s age motioning for you to close the door.

“Lady Martell,” she said gently as she came over to you and held out her hand. Still confused, you reached out and shook it, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Y-you’re the Maester?” you asked as she slowly nodded. You shouldn’t have been surprised you realized - this was Dorne after all. Women could be anything they wanted here and were not subject to the harsh realities that most other parts subjected them to. In some ways you were relieved that you were here with another instead of a man.

“Selsa,” she introduced herself as you told her your name, although you were unsure if it was really necessary. She had a warm, comforting presence and some of the tension who had been holding in your shoulders seemed to ease up, “and don’t worry, I was trained by a man-”

You laughed lightly at her little quip as she tried to get you to calm down, “it matters not. I trust you more than any man outside of Dorne. I have no reason to doubt your prowess simply because you are a woman, do I? That would be foolish of me.”

“A forward thinking woman from the North,” she said as she offered you a seat in the soft, plush velvet sofa she had near the window. You sat down it and the cushion deflated slightly, almost as if it was sighing along with you, “that must be why the Prince and all of Dorne adores you so.”

“I am but one mere woman,” you played it off, but you would not lie and say you didn’t appreciate the sentiment, “I just happened to get lucky.”

“Either way,” she said as she stood near you, “we are glad to have you here in Dorne. I hear you have fit in very well. Now tell me, what can I possibly assist with?”

You played with a loose thread of fabric for a moment, twisting it in your fingers as you wondered where to begin. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and waited patiently for you to speak, “umm...children, I-I suppose. It’s just that for the moment. I want to...would like to...know if there was any way to know if I can have children. If there’s any chance of my husband and I...having one of our own.”

“Oh,” she seemed mildly surprised by your request, but her expression didn’t change or do anything to suggest her shock or that she was appalled. You just gave her a light shrug as she came over and sat down next to you, “well, there are some ways we can try and see. However, right now, there’s no definite way to know...I guess unless you are actively trying and it never happens. The things we can do are strong indicators but they're not exact. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” you agreed quietly, “sure, whatever it is, we can try it. I figure either way I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“I just have a few questions to get my bearings, “ she said as you motioned for her to ask, “do you menstruate regularly and for how long?”

“Yes...if I remember correctly since around my thirteenth year.”

“Have you ever had excessive bleeding or anything to concern you about it?”

“No.”

“Were you with anyone before your husband?” she asked, “sometimes when a couple is newly trying it can take a while for things to pan out…”

“We-we’re not trying,” you admitted almost sheepishly, “I-I just want to know...probably for my own peace of mind. But I was with someone before...he and I…”

“No need to expand,” she took your hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, “it’s okay. Let me guess - you were not careful to try and prevent a pregnancy?”

“No,” you scoffed at yourself lightly before the two of you laughed, “we were young fools in love and it was never something I worried about. But I’m sure if it was a possibility it should have happened…”

“Hmm,” she mused quietly before standing up and walking over to the other end of the room. She rummaged around for a moment, leaving you to wonder what she was up to, before coming back with a large clay pot. She stopped by one of the large cabinets and pulled something out before chucking it into the pot. When she was satisfied with her handiwork, she stood in front of you and held out the pot to you, “I hope you have to urinate.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s an old test,” she explained as you curiously took the pot, “it’s been around for generations, used by Maesters and healers to check for fertility. Like I said. It’s old and far from exact, but it’s the best thing we’ve got to work with for now. “

“Oh...so you want me to pee? In that pot...”

“Yes!” she said as you just raised your eyebrows at her, “I put some bran into the bottom and you just pee on it. Then we leave it alone for about a week and come back and check it. If there’s nothing there and its clear, it means you are fertile, otherwise if things like bugs or worms get into it, it is supposed to suggest infertility.”

“That’s…odd,” you almost laughed at the little test, finding it hard to believe that people still used it. It sounded absolutely loony, but if people had been using it for this long...maybe it was accurate. Either way, you decided, you had nothing to lose and your bladder was pretty full. “I guess it can’t hurt anything.”

“It’s up to you, My Lady,” she promised and you stood up nodding affirmatively.

“I’ll do it,” you decided, “besides if nothing else it will be an interesting experiment, no?”

“Indeed,” she agreed, showing you to the room she used as a bathroom, “take your time and when you’re done you can just leave it in there. I’ll keep it safe for the week and we can take a look once the time has passed.”

“Sure,” you were nervous suddenly, and wondered just how accurate this would all be. Part of you was also scared that it would confirm the long buried doubt and fear you’d always had, “thank you…”

“It is no problem,” she promised, “and nothing to worry or fear over. We know here that some things are what they are and we cannot change them. The ability to conceive and carry a child does not define you, or anyone else. It does not define your heart or your character - remember that.”

“Thank you,” you answered quietly, relieved and comforted by her kind words. She knew what it would have been had you been married to another man in another part of the kingdom.

“Of course, and don’t worry. This will stay strictly between the two of us,” you gave her a thankful look, “and once you’re back, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at everything in more depth. Just to make sure everything appears as it should.”

“Whatever you need to do,” you agreed, “I guess I just want some answers…”

“And we shall get them for you,” she insisted, “as best as we can.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Pushing the sheer curtains to the side, you immediately felt a wave of calm wash over you at the sunlight streaming into your chambers. There was a gentle, warm breeze, and everything was illuminated. You decided to change your linens, making it a point to keep things fresh and tidy for whenever Oberyn came back. It had been several more days since your conversation with Doran and there was still no word. You weren't worrying but -

"My lady," the door to your chambers practically burst open and Asha tumbled inside in her haste, almost falling to the floor. Rushing over to her, you held out your hand in order to straighten her up.

"What's with the rush?" you asked, taking her face in your hands and looking her over to make sure she was okay. Besides her erratic breathing and wild look in her eyes she appeared to be okay, "Asha?"

"It's the Prince," she managed to get out, "he's returned."

You could tell that something was wrong almost immediately. Dropping your hands from her face you ran past her, the linens already forgotten and discarded on the floor. You almost tripped over your skirts in your haste to run down the stairs, bounding them down two at a time as you rushed to get outside.

Your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly as you tried to calm the horrible thoughts already racing in your mind. Every awful little thing that you could have happened was screaming as you burst out of the palace and through the throng that had gathered near the returned retinue.

“Oberyn!” you shouted at the top of your lungs as you spied his carriage and the crowd that was closely surrounding him. Jeron spotted you and his face, which was already in a grim expression seemed to fall even more. He tried to come over and grab you, in order to keep you from rushing straight to Oberyn’s side. His long strides made it easy and you were quickly held back in his strong grip. A small sound of frustration left you lips as you tried to pull away from him, clambering for any glimpse at your husband, “Jeron! Let me go! Oberyn-”

“You need to stop,” he said as calmly as he could, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears that were welling up in your eyes, “please, listen to me.”

“No,” you insisted firmly, “you listen to me! He is my husband and I want to see him!”

“Please, please,” he was practically begging you, a shake to his own voice as you gave up on trying to keep the tears that had pearled up from running over. You were a mess of emotion and all you cared about was seeing Oberyn. You stilled lightly and he dropped his voice, “listen for just a moment. H-he’s hurt. Badly.”

“No,” it was a choked out sob as your worst fears came true. This was what you had been worried from the start, from the moment that he first told you he was leaving again. The fact that he had been gone longer, that he had made a stop unbeknownst to you didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, absolutely nothing except making sure he was okay, “y-you’re lying! He’s...he can’t be hurt...”

“He’s in bad shape right now,” he said softly, an incredulous tone in his voice at the thought that the famed warrior ended up hurt, “I don’t know if you want to see him right now.”

“Oberyn,” his name well forth from your lips as you took advantage of his moment of indiscretion and pulled out of his grip and to the carriage. You shoved anyone who was in your way out of it and pushed to see Oberyn. You heard shouts of your name from Jeron, but you didn’t care - you needed to be by his side.

When the crowd seemed to part, already offering you pitying looks of sorrow you found yourself in front of Oberyn. He was sprawled out on a makeshift stretcher, and even if Jeron hadn’t told you that he was in bad shape, it was immediately apparent. His normally bright, bronze skin was paled and his chest was rising slowly, too slowly. No longer dressed in his normal regalia, but a simple pair of trousers and tunic, light in color, just enough so you could see the blood that had gotten on them from his abdomen. His face was covered in a sheen and his hair mused, a few lacerations on his face. He was not in bad shape - he was in horrible shape.

Your knees felt like they were going to buckle at any moment and you couldn’t help the almost hysterical cry that left your lips as lunged towards him. Several of his retinue tried to keep you back, but you were too quick for them. You dropped to your knees as you reached for his face to gently grab it and try to pull him towards, tears flowing freely as you blabbered incomprehensibly at him. He didn’t even open his eyes as you touched his face and leaned down so your forehead was pressed against his. The tears spilled from your eyes to on his cheeks, mixing in with the sweat that was covering his whole body, “O-Oberyn. No, no, no, please, please-”

“You have to get back,” someone insisted as you turned around and glared at him, not even caring that you were making a scene. A small ground had gathered around to see what all the excitement was about, and they were shamelessly staring. How dare someone tell you that you couldn’t be by your husband’s side, “he’s poorly-”

You quickly stood back up to your full height, wiping away the tears and summoning up as much of a commanding presence that you could manage. You are a Martell now, you reminded yourself, you have to be strong. And you would be damned if you allowed someone to tell you what to do when it came to Oberyn. Jeron rushed back over to you and stood by your side as you walked up to the man that had tried to stop you, “exactly. He’s hurt and he needs help! Get him inside and into bed now. Jeron - fetch the Maester immediately and tell her he needs help. We have to help him and quickly! The crowd needs to go and we need to tend him right now. Move!”

Without another word Oberyn’s men listened to your instructions and quickly sprung into action. It was almost like they had been shell shocked at the Prince’s state that they had somehow forgotten what to do. But in your state of panic, your wild thoughts somehow worked themselves out and you experienced a moment of clarity. Gods knew you wanted to fall apart then and there, but you could do that right now. Making sure Oberyn was safe and well was the first priority.

You watched silently as the men carefully brought Oberyn inside and brought him to your bedroom. You trailed after them, wondering what could possibly have happened to cause such injuries to him. You knew he had enemies, hells, everyone in the Seven Kingdoms had at least one enemy, but you never thought someone would be so bold as to openly harm him. If anything happened to Oberyn, it would be enough to incite a war - if not by your hand, then by the people of Dorne.

Time seemed to still in that moment as you tried your best to keep calm and not completely panic. You needed to be strong for yourself, for him, and for the rest of the family. Once he was settled in bed, and you waited for the Maester to come, you kneeled at his side, taking his hand ever so gently in yours, lacing your fingers together. You weren’t alone, several people were still milling about and monitoring him, but you didn’t care.

“Oberyn,” you whispered softly as you pressed a kiss to his palm, “my love, my moon and stars. Please just...just hang on. You will be okay. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. And when I find out who did this to you, I will make them pay. They will rue the day they dared to cross the Martells.”

He remained still as ever, and you wondered if he could even hear you. You hoped he could, in your heart of hearts you believed he could. Someone came in and brought some clean rags and water and you quickly set to wiping the sweat from his brow and cleaning the cuts on his face. They didn’t seem very deep and mostly superficial, which gave you the slightest sense of relief. When you were satisfied with that, you moved to pull off his tunic, deciding in your haste to just rip it off instead of trying to slip it over his head and disturbing him more. Your heart felt like it was seized up at the sight of the bandages, bloodied bandages, on his side. It was enough to make your stomach churn in horror as you wondered what was underneath.

But before you could reach for them to inspect the damage, Sesla entered the room and quickly came to your side. You were grateful for her comforting presence and easily let her take over, pulling you to her help before quickly hugging you, “it will be okay, I promise. Nothing will strike down the Red Viper. I will make sure of it.”

“Please,” was all you managed to choke out as she turned to tend to Oberyn. You made a small, almost helpless sound as you watched her get to work. Jeron was standing in the doorway and his presence seemed to calm you down immensely. You strode over to him and he let out a long sigh.

“I have failed you,” he said quietly as you shook your head, otherwise remaining silent. You gave his shoulder a squeeze as you realized that he must have been beating himself up over his. He was one of, if not the most, trust man Oberyn had, and yet...he was the one injured, “I promise you he’d come safe and I promised him that I’d return him safely to you. I have failed you both and now he lies in this state because of me.”

“No one could have known -”

“I am sworn to protect him,” he scoffed at himself, “and I have failed. I should be excused from his service and sent into exile.”

“Jeron,” you insisted firmly, “it was not your fault. I know you would do anything to keep him safe if you could. Right now we both need to be strong for him.”

“Yes.”

“Can you...do you know who did this?” you asked quietly as he seemed to tense up, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Yes…”

“Who?” you asked quietly and he made a small sound in the back of his throat. You could sense his reluctance to tell you the truth, “Jeron...who did this? Who hurt Oberyn?”

“Your family,” he answered so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. But once you realized what he said you felt like you had been hit in the face with a stone. Your hand went to your chest as you tried to wrap your mind around it, “it was your brother. He attacked him under the cover of night.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your husband was lying in front of you, on death’s doorstep because of your brother.

Your world felt like it was slowly crashing down around you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only

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softlyqoos · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Love Pt. 1

(Pairing Draco Malfoy x reader)

Summary : Draco and Y/N were best friends since their first year and the only person who doesn’t worship the ground he walks on like the rest of his fellow Slytherins. Draco needs to break off their friendship before it turns into something greater and irresistible, but his heart tells him something else.

Warnings : heartbreak, heartbreak and heartbreak. (basically anything related to it.) *THIS DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING*

A/N : I had this written down on paper two weeks ago but didn’t have time to finish it and stuff back then. I know I’ve only been doing angst so far I’m not really sure how to write fluff event hough I want to. If you have any requests please don’t hesitate to ask <3

flashbacks in italics

He couldn’t take his eyes off you whilst your laugh filled the Great Hall, interrupting his thoughts. A simple act that could distract him even a room away. He couldn’t imagine ever living without you, even he himself found it cliché, he didn’t believe he was in love nor did he believe in love.

That is because he didn’t want to. He thought that the simple body signs and skin contacts the two of you often shared were just gestures of friendliness. You were always the careless, friendly and outgoing one, and in his eyes, you were beautiful. Every time he looks at your eyes, his heart stops beating. He’d met you on the train back in their first year.

“Hello” he lifted his gaze away from the window and his eyes landed on your Y/E/C ones. “May I join you? The rest of the cars are full.” you smiled pointing out to the corridor. Before he could could reply, you shut the door behind you and sat opposite from him. He stared at you then looked back at the window snickering. “Tell me, why do you find my face so amusing?” you demanded furrowing your eyebrows at the platinum blonde in front of you.

“There’s mud on the side of your face.” he grinned, pointing at your right cheek.

Your eyes widened, wiping your cheeks, you looked down at your hands.

“Oh, um.. I ate a bar of Chocolate Frogs a few minutes ago” you said, wiping your hands on a tissue. You smiled at him looking up, laughing at yourself “I guess it was silly of me, I still have a few more.. would you like some?” You said taking out a few bars from both your pockets.

“No, father’s given me plenty of pocket money.” He smiled proudly before handing out his hand. “Malfoy, Draco Malfoy”

“Y/N Y/LN”

You turned your head looking at Draco from across the table and winked at him. His breath hitched in his throat for... Merlin, he didn’t even remember how many times you’ve taken his breath away that day. It was driving him mad because the two of you always shared multiple winks and smiles, but that day he was observing them closer than ever, cherishing your happy gestures. Only he himself knew the reason to it.

He stopped halfway from the door “I don’t know what you’re talking abou,t” he wanted to get out of his office, he knew he needed to but his legs froze his steps.

“Do you think I’m blind, boy? Nothing and nobody, especially Ms. Y/L/N must distract you now with the mission the Dark Lord’s assigned to you”

His jaw tensed and he closed his eyes with the view of you lingering in the darkness.

“We can’t afford more time, I’m sure you can’t afford losing your family too.” Snape reminds him. He clenches his fists and turns around facing his professor.

“She’s a friend, she means nothing to me.” he bit his cheek at his words. Guilt washing over him as he heard it, but he knew it was only the beginning.

“A-ah see, if she surely means nothing to you, like you said, then I’m sure you won’t mind her cries when the Dark Lord finds out about her and who knows what will happen to her.” tsked Snape.

Draco’s chest rose up and down, his breath heaving, with the thought of you being tortured or worse, killed made his rage build higher than his guilt. He opens his eyes ignoring the tears welling up his eyes blurring his vision.

“W-What.. how,”

but he didn’t need the answer he already knew to.

You glanced at Draco before he quickly drifted his gaze to his table you realized you were being watched by him, the thought that he did it because he fancies you made your cheeks flush. You were confident that he might feel the same way no matter how many times you overheard him saying he never believed in love to Crabbe and Goyle. You never told him anything because you were afraid of taking risks after almost 7 years of friendship.

Draco was usually fairly talkative to you during breakfast. You couldn’t help wonder why he was oddly quiet that morning, but you brushed it off when Draco got up and walked to you.

You smiled, looking down at your food playing with it around your fork “Finally talking to me huh Dray? I thought you were giving me the silent tr-”

“Meet me at the Astronomy tower, tonight, after dinner” he said and walked.

Exiting the hall, you scoffed watching him.

You couldn’t concentrate on your classes the whole day, usually Draco would sit behind you in Charms but he sat in the corner of the room. You were nervous every time Draco walks past you to get to the next class without saying anything. If you looked at his face properly you could see his pupils looking at you from the corner of his eyes. (not in a creepy way)

When you entered the Great Hall again for dinner that night, your eyes would scan the room looking for your him like it usually did, and your eyebrows furry when he wasn’t there. Sure, you were in love with him, but you were also his best friend and the thought of him acting odd that day made you tense.

After dinner you walked to the Astronomy Tower like Draco had instructed, in a fast pace. Was he told not to attend Hogwarts anymore with his father in Azkaban? You didn’t know about his relation to the Dark Lord as the two of you shared everything but he didn’t have the courage to tell you about his mission, his threats and him being a.. death eater.

When you reach the end of the stairs to the top, you slowly walked out feeling the night’s cold breeze brushing against your skin. You took a deep breath as you walked towards the figure wearing a black suit facing the rails. You thought whatever he was going through you were gonna cheer him up.

You walked to the rail beside him leaning onto it watching the view with him. It was a full moon you were taken aback by how beautiful the night sky was.

“Hey Dray,” the words came out more cheerful than u you wanted it to be “ Are you okay? I barely saw you today.”

“Poor Y/N/N, Miss me that much?" He grinned finally looking at you.

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. "Yes, poor Y/N, she got detention for breaking a cauldron in potions today.”

The two of you joked together and you forgot about Draco’s odd behavior that previously happened. “Why did you ask me to meet you here, Draco?”

As soon as you said that Draco’s smile faltered, he avoided talking about the subject entirely because he wasn’t ready, he couldn’t imagine your face when he tells you what he’s been dreading to. He looked into your eyes and you saw him soften. Merlin, you were gorgeous, the cold air made the tip of your nose red, he admire your features until his gaze fell on your soft lips.

You thought to yourself, you have to do it, you had nothing to lose, You lean closer to him and you close your eyes expecting the kiss you had dreamt of since you were twelve.

“N-no, I..”

Your eyes fluttered open and you look at the boy you love in confusion. The realization hit you like a brick. You gasp and quickly took a few steps backwards avoiding eye contact from embarrassment. You felt tears swell up in your eyes but you didn’t wipe them away, your heart thumping louder and louder in the silence, you were sure he could hear it. You were too shocked to move.

Draco cleared his throat “Y/N I’m sorry, I can’t do this,”

Your eyes widen, you felt your heart break into pieces at his words, you thought to yourself this has to be a nightmare. The Draco you know wouldn’t toss away 7 years of friendship. The Draco you knew wouldn’t toss you away

You wanted to act unhurt but your voice betrayed you “Wha-what do you mean?”

“I think we shouldn’t be friends, I don’t want to, not with you following me around like a sick puppy. I didn’t mind after a few years but you’d really ticked me off lately. I don’t need another mother figure. You were just another annoying-”

There was a loud smack and this time Draco’s eyes widen. Your hand print was glowing red on his pale cheek. He looked down at you and and you look into his gray eyes daring him to speak. You could see rage in them but they turned into sadness or maybe even guilt?

You turn on your heels running to the stairs but you stopped. Draco didn’t move, he was still standing at where you had slapped him.

“Tell me, for the last 7 years of our friendship, did you not feel anything?” You chocked in tears.

“Because I did, and I still do, I love you and probably forever will.”

You didn’t wait for his answer and walked down the stairs in tears, but what you didn’t realize was when you left, his heart left with you.

here is Part 2

279 notes · View notes

sweetest-honeybee · 3 years

Text

Down to Dust

Chapter 4

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Sumamry: Mumbo was surprised to find that Grian was right when he said the egg was magical.

TW: Slight electrocution I suppose, and descriptions of lightning

Word Count: 2415

Notes: Again, the two farms are in the overworld, not in the Nether or End for the sake of the fic

Enjoy! And this one deserves a Read More because it’s long lol

——————

By the end of the next day, Mumbo had finished his first farm and half of his second farm. Much to his surprise, the egg didn’t bear any harm. It was strangely quiet recently but it didn’t bother him any. At the moment, it was in his inventory should anyone come by and see that he had it. It’d ruin his plans and he didn’t want to give up the egg just yet. Really, he could probably keep it forever. It had been completely safe and comfortable- or, as comfortable as an egg can be- since he stole it. Mumbo called that pretty responsible.

Who was he kidding, Grian would kill him eventually if he never found it himself.

He laid down the last of the comparators for the third row, focused more on finishing his farm than overthinking the egg situation. If all went well so far, they should be able to work on their own if he flipped a lever. The redstoner pulled the egg from his inventory and held it up to his face.

“I think everything looks about right so far, yeah?” He turned the egg as if there was a face to show his work. The egg quite obviously never spoke but it helped to explain the redstone and find the flaws in his contraptions.

Nothing seemed out of place. The first row’s test went swimmingly and by replicating that a few more times, all should go as planned when he tested them together. With his luck it may not happen but he could stand to be a little optimistic at least. Mumbo went on to build the last of the uniform rows and easily finished another quarter of the farm. All was down to just encasing said farm in a wall of glass to avoid the items spilling over the sides.

He stood back once more with his hands on his hips, the egg now by his feet. The redstoner was proud to say the least. He looked down at the egg which only sat stock still. Leaving the egg, he turned to dig in his chest for more materials.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the egg wouldn’t stay still for much longer.

“Glass, glass, where on Earth did I put the glass?” He mumbled to himself. He continued to rummage. Eventually, he pulled away from the chest with an internal cheer. “Of course it was next to the pistons.”

He swirled back around when he began to hear small pops from behind him. As he did, Mumbo’s eyes widened. Small purple sparks crackled every so often at the base of the egg and quickly began to grow in size. The egg itself launched into a fit of rapid vibrating.

“Oh! Uh-oh!” He dropped the glass next to him, shattering upon impact, and hurriedly jogged to the now terrifyingly lively egg. “Please tell me you're supposed to do that!”

The redstoner hesitated, going to touch it, then pulling away with a worried whimper. Mumbo didn’t want to touch it but he panicked as he was at a loss of what to do. The egg was calm for weeks before now. Even Grian would’ve said something if the egg had done something like this before Mumbo stole it.

Ah…Grian did tell him it was a magical egg.

Mumbo only thought Grian was joking to keep him from taking it. He’s never seen a dragon egg do that! It was just from the update, he suggested to himself. Eggs were just suddenly powerful and might destroy his days of work. He laughed nervously and pulled at his tie. It didn’t matter what he thought, the small sparks were now large bolts that shot their way into the ground. It singed the grass around it, turning it to a coal black. He had to back away from the egg’s ever expanding radius of energy.

“Oh what do I do- what do I do?!” Then, the obvious idea appeared and he palmed his forehead. “Grian!”

The redstoner fumbled to get his communicator from his pocket, almost dropping it several times. He miss-clicked several icons with petrified fingers and growled in frustration. Only when he finally opened the chat, the egg ceased its episode with an immediate halt. He looked up from the screen with caution and took another step away from the egg.

The area fell silent. Not a bird’s chirp or leave’s rustle broke the blanket of stillness that suddenly washed over everything. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, though.

He inched forward with small steps, clutching his communicator. Seconds passed, then a minute.

“H…Hello?” He said tentatively. He stuck a leg out, poking at it with the tip of his shoe then retracting his leg once more. A sigh escaped his lips. “Good, I guess that’s over with then.”

But it wasn’t. The egg was hardly finished as the bolts started again, much much larger than their already massive size they reached before it stopped the first time. Mumbo shrieked and attempted to retreat back to his chest. It took no longer than five seconds before a wave of the purple energy resonated through the ground and absorbed into the two farms. It knocked Mumbo from his feet and onto the grass, sending an electric shiver through his body.

He shielded his neck with his arms and waited. He only turned over when the sounds of roaring pistons caught his attention. But, that was hardly what he worried about as he watched in awe- good or bad, he wasn’t sure yet- at the effects of the egg’s sudden show of magic.

Both farms were activated and running faster than any farm he’d ever seen. Items upon items flowed down water streams and into stacks of chests. Some items avoided their intended route and simply floated in all directions above the farms. It was loud, incredibly loud. Mumbo nearly had to cover his ears as he initially cowered from the noise. However, he soon pulled himself to his feet and slowly approached the over-efficient farms.

A violet haze emitted from the redstone, replacing its originally reddish color, and from the cracks between each set of stone bricks. Each block crackled and hissed with energy, and it almost felt as if he were gaining some of that energy himself. Small bolts fizzled out over his suit. He lifted his left hand and turned it over, watching as sparks flew over and down his fingers to their tips.

To put it simply, it was a beautiful and supernatural sight. He wasn't sure how to react. His own heart was still racing- from the energy around him or his nerves, he also didn’t know.

While in the middle of the two farms, he glanced back at the egg which no longer twisted and turned, but sat with slowly flowing violet streams of energy penetrating the ground. Much like the hum of a conduit sounded from it. Now, it seemed very calm in contrast to its earlier fit. Mumbo assumed- for obvious reasons, really- that the egg powered the farms despite the contraptions having been able to power themselves via redstone. It was captivating and he couldn’t help but to become curious about what was inside the egg that would’ve given it so much power. That or had it already been created with it. Either way, he yearned to learn more about it. It could be revolutionary and improve efficiency immensely.

Although, the event was short lived as the egg’s energy flow sputtered and dissipated, leading to the farms shutting down with it. Mumbo looked up as items began to rain over his shoulders when they fell. But, he was hardly bothered. At this moment he realized a few things.

His farms worked, thankfully; The egg held an amount of power that could power several farms; Mumbo wanted to keep the egg for even longer to experiment.

Of course, he still wanted to eventually return it but as someone who couldn’t kill anything, the egg could help him for the time being...He already had many ideas popping into his head by the second. It only made him giddy for what was to come. He ran over and scooped up the egg with an ear-to-ear grin, holding it up to his face.

“You, my friend, are one wicked egg,” he complimented. Then, he put it in his inventory and prepared to fly home. He’d clean up the mess later.

As he rocketed off to his base, he noticed his red sweatered friend sitting alone on the roof of his house. Even when Mumbo flew by, Grian didn’t wave or nod up to him or really even look at him. Piquing his curiosity, though he should just go home and avoid confrontation, he landed behind Grian and carefully stepped down the slope of the roof.

“Hey! Haven’t heard from you much today,” he greeted. Mumbo was only met with silence. “Are you okay?”

After a second, Grian twitched when he realized that someone was talking to him. He turned his head to where Mumbo crouched down next to him.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking. This is my thinking roof.”

The redstoner hummed. “Ah, don’t wear yourself out then,” he laughed.

“You should try it sometime with that empty head of yours.” The avian chuckled dryly and looked back to the setting sun, the small smile falling from his face.

“Thanks,” Mumbo replied, initially with a smile himself but found himself meeting Grian’s frown. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. Then, he tapped his fingers on the deepslate. “So...what’re you thinking about?”

“A lot, honestly. It's still the beginning of the season, I’m sure everyone is.” He waved a hand dismissively then looked at Mumbo. “What about you? Have you been thinking about anything?”

Mumbo snorted, attempting to lighten the mood. “Thinking isn’t good for me. I overthink when I do and it hurts my brain.” He paused. “But, if you’d really like to know, I’ve been thinking about the egg.”

This made Grian perk up. “What about it? Do you know where it is?”

The redstoner hesitated. Not yet, he can’t give it up just yet. “What? No, not at all. But, I had a question.”

Grian deflated, then looked away with his chin on his arms, legs tucked to his chest. “Alright, shoot.”

Mumbo’s stomach twisted. “I uh- maybe now isn’t the best time actually. You know, while it’s missing and all.” He cracked a half smile.

“Yeah, while it’s missing,” the builder scoffed. “Just ask me, I’m sure I can answer.”

“Ah- um, sure. Why...why is the egg so special to you? I understand sentimentality, but it just seemed more…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I wondered maybe- maybe it uh… did something, you know? You said it was a magical egg. Maybe you could tell me about it?”

He heard a low chuckle from Grian. “It’s just some stupid egg, it’s not magical.”

“I- oh.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that was disappointing for you, wasn’t it,” Grian sneered. The two stopped. Grian pulled his head up and Mumbo furrowed his brows. “Nevermind, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Just stressed.”

Mumbo stood and tightened his jaw, ignoring the builder’s excuse. “You know, you’ve been real onto me about that egg. Why don’t you tell me about that instead or go bother Scar. Every conversation I have with you now is just accusing me of taking it.”

Grian thought back to what Aisling said, then his last thought before he came to the roof. “Because maybe I saw you sneak into my house and steal the egg. And maybe, I don’t know, it’s my stuff.” He stood and faced Mumbo with a finger to the redstoner’s chest. “And maybe it’s because you are an insanely terrible liar.”

The other was at a loss for words, opening his mouth then clamping it shut repeatedly. The tips of his ears reddened in embarrassment. Of course Grian probably saw him take it, anyone could’ve. But why didn’t he say anything before? Satisfaction? Did he want Mumbo to just admit to it?

It didn’t matter now, the jig was up and all of his plans for the egg were now down the drain.

“I- I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. “I didn’t think it was such a problem.” He looked down at his shoes. “You…have been acting differently since it was gone, I didn’t think I made you mad.”

The avian sighed in relief and put a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder. “I’m not- look at me,” Mumbo lifted his head, “I’m not mad. Really, I’m not. A little annoyed, maybe, but not mad.”

“But you just scolded me like a toddler!” The redstoner whined.

Grian laughed. “Because you have to do that when a toddler lies to you. But, I’m not angry at you, at Scar, or anyone else. I want to tell you why that egg is important, I do, but it’s not the time for that, yet.” He patted his friend’s shoulder. It was clear Mumbo had more questions but decided to avoid them. “So, where is it?”

“Ah- well, I should warn you first about something.” Grian’s eyes widened. “No, no! Nothing happened to it! But um- well, it’s not ‘just some stupid egg’, it’s one seriously powerful egg, dude. What kind of dragon did you fight?!”

“...Excuse me?”

“Yeah! It powered two of my farms at once, did this huge explosion thing with a bunch of lightning, and it was awesome, but the egg-”

Grian took a hold of Mumbo’s shoulders roughly. “Mumbo, did it do anything to you.” The builder was suddenly very serious, as if Mumbo would die if he said yes.

So, of course he lied. “No? I was well away from it.” Grian let go and crossed his arms with a raised brow. “I was! I ran away because I obviously didn’t want to die.”

The other sighed. “Good, I need it now, then.”

Mumbo pulled it from his inventory, hesitating to give it back. Then, he put it in Grian’s outstretched palm. With nothing more to say, he waved goodbye and glided back to his van. Grian watched as he did and once the van’s door slid shut, he looked down at the egg. While he inspected the egg, he noticed a new detail to its shell that made his stomach sink.

A cursive two letter initial, MJ.

#long post #hermitcraft #down to dust #grian #mumbo jumbo #my fic

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jamie-leah · 3 years

Text

War of Wolves (19)

Season 1

Episode 19 - The Search Begins

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2530

Warnings: Violence, injuries, manhandling, medical talk, swearing, POV Changes

A/N: Here's another! Late as usual I know, but my life has taken an unexpected turn. However, lets hope these updates will not be more regular. There will be POV changes and I know Bucky's part is third person but I call it Bucky's POV because it's easier for everyone to follow! Enjoy Lovelies! Feedback is always encouraged!

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist Series Masterist Oneshot Masterlist

BUCKY’S POV

There’s a pounding in his head that hasn’t stopped since the crash. As his senses start to come back Bucky notices, he’s lying on concrete, the cold seeping into his bones.

About the same time, he realises he’s on the floor he remembers what happened. Bucky shoots up from the floor, causing dizziness but he didn’t care. The only thought he had was you.

As Bucky looks around, he sees the chair you were in empty and the room also empty. Morning had started to break, and he curses himself for losing precious hours.

As Bucky starts to make his way out of the building his body aches as his head keeps pounding in time with his heart.

He finally finds an exit and walks until he comes to a main road. Bucky looks around and breathes a sigh of relief that he knows where he is. With no phone or anything to communicate with anyone, Bucky walks.

He follows the main road as his thoughts race. He can’t help picturing you with Isaac and it makes him sick. The worry for you and the anger at himself and Isaac is almost enough to bring him to his knees, but he said he would find you and he would. He would die before he ever stopped looking.

Bucky felt like he had been walking forever but it was probably only about twenty-five minutes. The older building coming into view. He picks up the pace until he comes to the gates.

Bucky walks right in catching the eye of two men. They look at each other alarmed by the way he looks but Bucky simply says, “go get him”.

The one runs off as the other stays by the gate. Bucky keeps walking afraid that if he stops, he won’t be able to get back up.

As Bucky reaches the door Darren steps out looking concerned. Bucky clenches his jaw before saying, “I need your help”.

YOUR POV

You’re cold. You smell damp. You hear murmuring.

You shift and groan as your eyes protest being opened. You feel what must be springs digging into your back as you make sense of what you’re seeing.

Its quite a dark room, the ceiling old brick and as you follow it the walls are brick too. You sit up fast and groan. You notice you’re sitting on a mattress and metal frame.

You stand up and gasp as your bare feet touch stone. When you get over the shock you notice metal bars covering an archway, the only exit to this room.

It took you a while to comprehend what you were seeing but you finally realised that you were in a dungeon. You’re incredibly confused as voices get louder.

You walk closer to the bars, your feet becoming numb due to the cold until two figures step into view. It doesn’t take you long to see that its Harry and Isaac.

You look at the both of them, “where the hell am I?”.

Harry’s British accent comes out loud in the small space, “This is an estate of mine. I had a lot of extra room here, so I let Isaac renovate a few of his labs here”.

You screw up your face, “am I in a dungeon?”.

Harry chuckles, “my estate is essentially a castle, this place has many hidden places, this small dungeon being one”.

Isaac speaks next, watching you carefully, “no one knows you’re here. It’s just me, Harry and one of my men. The rest of the men don’t know you’re here, so Bucky definitely doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t cause me any trouble”.

You hold his gaze lifting your chin, “he’ll find me”.

Isaac smirks, “no. He won’t”. That’s when he pushes some type of clothing through the bars, “wear that. I have some initial tests I want to run as soon as possible. If you don’t have it on by the time my man comes to get you, he’ll put it on you himself”.

Without another word from either of them they leave. You pick up the clothing and see that it’s a hospital gown.

Its freezing in the room due to the stone so you don’t really want to put it on, but you don’t want to risk anyone else putting it on for you. You strip and quickly put the gown on. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait.

BUCKY’S POV

Darren didn’t even blink when he agreed to help in any way he could. The first thing that Bucky did was call Steve.

“Hello?”, Steve’s voice sounded tired, strained.

Bucky was just relieved to hear his voice, “Steve, its Bucky-“.

Steve interrupts him, “Bucky?! Where are you?! Are you hurt? I saw the car-“.

Bucky just manages to get out, “Steve, he took her”.

There was a heavy silence for a few moments, “where are you?”.

Bucky’s head was still hurting, “Darren’s”.

“Me and Sam will be there as soon as we can”, Steve waits a second before hanging up.

Darren comes back with a woman with a full looking rack. Bucky just sits there on Darren expensive looking sofa.

She comes over without a word and starts attending to the cut on Bucky’s head. Darren sits opposite Bucky and waits for the woman to finish. Before she leaves, she hands Bucky some tablets and water.

As Bucky takes them, Darren asks, “What happened Buck?”.

Bucky stares into space picturing the events as he tells Darren, “Isaac ambushed me and Y/N. I didn’t even see it coming. Rammed straight into us. I held em’ off as much as I could but there were too many of them and Y/N refused to run”.

Darren’s eyebrows raise, “brave woman”.

Bucky’s mouth twitches despite the circumstances, “stubborn woman…He took us to a warehouse about half hour from here. He was gonna kill me, but Y/N convinced him not to. He knocked me out and took her”.

Darren’s jaw clenched, “what do you need from me?”.

YOUR POV

It took about twenty minutes for you to hear footsteps and for another figure to come up to the bars. You can’t make much out other than he’s blonde and tall.

He opens the bar door and his gruff voice comes out, “move”.

“Where’s my please?”, you don’t know if its you being brave, stubborn, or stupid, but the comment comes out just the same.

The guy comes marching in and grabs your arm. He yanks so hard that your cry echoes in the room and you’re afraid he’ll rip it out of the socket.

You fight against him, fear of what Isaac has in store finally kicking in. But it doesn’t matter, you can’t get a grip with your bare feet and your punches bounce off him.

He leads you down narrow corridors and you lose track until he stops abruptly at a wooden door. He opens it one handed and drags you in.

Its like you stepped into a different reality. The room was white, and the floor was tiled. It was like you had entered a hospital. It made the knot in your stomach tighten painfully.

Isaac was sitting at a desk in a white coat. Your eyes slide from him to the glass window in front of him that looked into a room with an MRI machine.

Isaac talks with his back still to you, “put her on the table”.

The man starts backing you up, but you keep resisting. You manage to clip the guy in the face, his grip loosening enough to break free for only a second. Before you can get very far, he pulls you by your hair and throws you into the table.

Your stomach collides with the edge of the table and knocks the wind right out of your lungs. You double over and end up falling to the floor trying to suck in air.

Isaac doesn’t even care. He just walks over calmly as you struggle to breathe and injects something into your arm. You don’t remember anything after that.

BUCKY’S POV

The pounding in his head hadn’t stopped. The dizziness was still there, but Bucky couldn’t keep still. He was pacing in front of Darren worrying about you and wondering how he was going to find you.

There was a knock on the door that made Bucky turn around in his pacing. One of Darren’s workers had guided Steve and Sam to the room.

Steve took big strides over to Bucky, pulling him into a hug, closely followed by Sam. When Sam steps back he says, “we’re gonna get her back”.

Steve nods before asking, “what happened?”.

So, Bucky tells them everything. Once Bucky finishes Steve asks, “you got people on the inside, right? You planted people in Isaac’s organisation a while ago?”.

Bucky nods, “I’ll reach out to them, ask if they’ve seen her or heard anything about where he’s got her. There were also cameras at the warehouse he took us to, pull the footage and see if it tells us something”.

Sam holds his hand up, “we’ll do all of that and whatever else you need us to do, but we need to take you back and get you some medical attention”.

Bucky starts to shake his head, but Steve talks next, “Sam’s right. You can reach out to your informants in the car on the way back home, but you need to get your head checked out. You’re no good to Y/N if you’re injured”.

Bucky nods frustrated with how right they were and how much time its going to waste, “okay, lets get moving then”.

Bucky starts moving towards the door and everyone follows. Steve and Sam get in the car and Bucky follows. Before he closes the door, Darren says, “I’ve got a few people I can reach out to. I’ll let you know if I hear anything”.

Bucky nods, grateful, before slamming the door. Sam hands him a phone to start making calls as Steve speeds back home.

YOUR POV

It was like you were repeating history. You wake up groggy again and you shift as springs dig into your back.

You take in your cell and start to get up before the world tilts causing you to crash back onto the bed. That’s when Isaac speaks, making your heart race, “you’re going to feel dizzy and you’ll probably throw up soon. I need you to rest because I’ll need to take a few more tests in a few hours”.

You manage to murmur, “fuck you”.

Isaac chuckles, “the harder you fight the more I’m going to enjoy breaking your spirit. There’s a bucket in the corner of the room for when you throw up”.

You listen to his footsteps walking away, loud to the throbbing of your head. You try focusing on your breathing, but it wasn’t long before you felt saliva flood your mouth and your stomach clench.

You stumble out of bed and towards the corner. You nearly fall two times before making it to the bucket and heaving. Not much comes out as you stay hunched over the bucket for about half an hour just heaving.

By the time it stops your body is shaking and you have to crawl back over to the bed. You get back on and curl in on yourself, falling asleep to forget.

BUCKY’S POV

By the time they get back to the house Bucky has got in touch with everyone that he can think of, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He gets out the car more frustrated than ever and once inside he makes a beeline for the office. That is until Steve blocks his path, “I don’t think so. Med wing. Now”.

Bucky doesn’t fight as Steve escorts him towards the medical wing. He asks softly, “how is Peggy doing? I can’t believe I missed everything”.

Steve smiles, “she’s doing great. She’s at the safe house with the kids thinking of a name for our boy as we speak”.

Bucky nods, lost in thoughts, “good, that’s good”.

Steve looks over concerned, “Buck…”.

Bucky reaches for the med wing doors, “go and get the footage from the warehouse and get in contact with anyone I missed in the car while I get my head sorted”. Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to say or ask whatever he was going to say as he lets the doors close.

YOUR POV

You wake to the noise of the barred door scrapping against the stone floor. You don’t move from your foetal position on the bed.

It’s the blonde guy again, “move”.

Your body still feels weak and shaky. When your voice comes out you don’t recognise it, “go fuck yourself”.

You hear his heavy steps approaching and you brace yourself. Again, he yanks your arm and pulls you off the bed. You don’t expect it and can’t catch yourself in time before your hip and knee collide with the stone floor.

You yelp as pain radiates along your leg. As you try breathing through the pain, he takes advantage and manages to carry you most of the way without much fight from you.

He drops you on the table in the room and Isaac is waiting with another syringe. He wastes no time in using it as you feel the sting in your arm.

They both step back and you start to get off the table, but your limbs don’t listen. You try moving your legs, but you go nowhere. You try moving your arms but still you’re staring at the white ceiling.

Panic starts clawing in your chest as your eyes dart around the room as much as they can. You can feel the cool table underneath you but despite all your strength you can’t even make your fingers twitch.

You even go to ask Isaac what he did but your mouth wouldn’t open. Fear was gripping your racing heart as you hear your blood in your ears like the sea raging on the shore.

Isaac comes into view with a smile, “try not to panic, it wouldn’t do me any favours if you died. I needed to do an MRI with you awake, but I imagined you wouldn’t lay still for me, so I thought I’d make you”.

He nods to the blonde guy and he picks you up. He takes you into the next room and places you on the machine.

During the entire process you try to move, but nothing worked. The loss of control and feeling of helplessness made breathing difficult.

You decided to just close your eyes and picture Bucky. You picture him healthy and in one of his black suits. You try and imagine what he would say to you now. He’d probably cup your face and make your eyes look at his and say, “you’re strong, smart, and stubborn. I know you can do this until I get there, you just need to breathe Doll. Just breathe for me. I will find you”.

It was only when you opened your eyes that you realised a tear had escaped down the side of your cheek and into your hair.

WoW Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @scuzmunkie @loving-life-my-way @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8 @inquisitor-selvala @mad-red @k-n-e @rinkashirikitateku @duhh-danielly @boundtomyfate @kalesrebellion @booktease21 @whatinthyworld @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @asapkyndall @yaszx @amoredashley @aveatquevale- @putinovertime @melimelbean @valsworldofcreativity @lokilokilokilokilokilokilo-blog1 @vesper852 @littlenerdgirl16

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky fandom #bucky series #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!au

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Shadowsinger Part 13 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

*****

Gwyn laughed when she met Emerie's eyes, and the Illyrian female squealed at the sight of her and raced towards her, almost crushing her ribs as she wrapped her arms around her,

"Why didn't you tell me what you were doing? Gods, Mor showed up and told me what had happened and that you were off Cauldron knows where on your own to try and fix it! What were you thinking?"

"Good you see you too, Em,"

"Gwyn! I was so worried." Emerie spun Gwyn around, twice, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. And I was thinking about them," And about him, but she couldn't quite voice that, not yet, not until she was sure he was okay with her voicing that. "And I wasn't alone, Rhysand went with me."

"He wasn't supposed to go into the keep at all,"

"He did, he helped us get out." Emerie narrowed her eyes,

"If you ever pull that kind of shit again,"

"I know, I know," Gwyn threw her arms around Emerie, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going, I should have." Emerie huffed, but sighed,

"Nesta?"

"With Cassian."

"And is he-"

"He's okay, recovering, but Madja says he'll be fine, he just needs a bit of time to rest." Emerie nodded, "C'mon, let's go see them." Despite Emerie's presence, Azriel clasped Gwyn's hand tightly in his as they walked up to Nesta and Cassian's room. He didn't let go when Emerie knocked on the door, nor when Nesta answered it. Gwyn smiled to herself at the way Nesta's face lit up at the sight of their sister, the tiredness in her eyes fading, she even stood up straighter as she grinned,

"I should have come earlier, I can't leave you alone for five minutes," Emerie chuckled, "I'll be visiting more often now, Mor's offered me a spare room in the townhouse so I can stay here sometimes." Emerie nudged Nesta back into the room, running her eyes over her, "Sit." she ordered, and a piece of chocolate cake appeared in her hands moments later, "For the miniature pegasus."

"For the miniature pegasus," Nesta echoed, and smiled as she took the plate from Emerie,

"How's Cassian?"

"Being a stubborn ass, as per usual," Nesta mumbled, "So he's fine. Sleeping, but fine." Emerie glanced across to the lump under the blankets on the bed, and raised an eyebrow at Nesta, "I'm fine, Em, I'm fine." Oh really? Gwyn tilted her head to the side, and Nesta rolled her eyes, "I am. I'm fine, I promise." Azriel shook his head gently,

"A wonder that none of you are daemati with that trick," he whispered, and Gwyn had to hold in a giggle, instead prodding him in the side. The movement drew Emerie's attention, and she noted their joined hands, but smiled and didn't comment, at least not yet. Gwyn groaned inwardly and mentally prepared herself for the bombardment she was sure to get the moment she and Emerie had a chance to talk. Emerie had already settled on a couch beside Nesta, but before Gwyn had chosen a seat, the lump on the bed moved, and promptly fell onto the floor.

"Cass!" Nesta all but threw the cake aside as she ran to help him up. He groaned, but gently, just complaining, not actually in pain. Gwyn did snort when he shook his head, his hair flicking around like a wolf's might after a swim.

"Hello, Cassian," Emerie chuckled, and he raised a hand in greeting, allowing Nesta to lift him back onto the bed, but refused to lie back down, insisting that he was okay, that he hadn't hurt himself. Nesta fussed for another few moments, before retrieving the cake,

"How's Windhaven?" Cassian fixed Emerie with a look, clearly desperate for any idea of how soon he might need to be back on his feet properly,

"Rainy and cold, I'm sure you remember it." Emerie said, quickly deflecting the question, "Do you mind if I help you with those?" She gestured to his wings, still bandaged, still clearly painful, and he nodded, allowing her to move and sit beside him, "You don't have to carry them the same as when they're uninjured." She gently guided his wings to sit lower, more relaxed, and his whole body eased, the tension from the pain diminishing. "If they keep hurting, ask Madja for arnicana, when your wings are injured, even if its not the main cause, the muscles tighten up, arnicana salve helps them to relax, and lessens the pain. Nesta can help with that." Cassian grunted noncommittally, "It's not weak to admit you need help recovering, I still have to use arnicana at least once a week for mine, it's just something to help, I can get my hands on some extra if Madja hasn't got any, it can be difficult to get outside of Illyria." Cassian smiled,

"Okay. Thank you." Still, Gwyn couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on the jagged scars along Emerie's own wings, and he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"What?" He shrugged,

"We should have found a way to help even more, not just the brace."

"Cassian." Emerie waited for him to meet her eyes, "I don't need anything more, I'm quite happy as I am, I use the arnicana to help when they ache, they rarely hurt properly, and it's okay, I don't want to heal them, I'm used to life on the ground, it's okay, really. The only thing would be to get rid of the ache, but it's a minor inconvenience now." Cassian still winced when he passed his gaze over her wings, "Stop feeling sorry for me. I'm absolutely fine." He jumped, and nodded,

"That's not what I meant. I just meant, we should have found a way for you to fly again."

"I don't need to fly, I quite happy on the ground." Gwyn blinked in surprise,

"No way! You're scared of heights!"

"I am not!"

"You are!" Nesta grinned, "That's why you didn't like the balcony,"

"Okay, so I'm scared of heights, so what?" Gwyn chuckled again, and snorted at Azriel's efforts to contain his own laughter, and failing.

"You're an Illyrian," she snorted, "You can't be scared of heights."

"Ah, ah, but I can't fly, so it doesn't matter," Emerie snorted at Cassian's surprise, and skipped past Gwyn to escape to the safety of the empty corridor, "Goodnight lovebirds," she winked at Nesta, and smiled knowingly at Gwyn, before giving Azriel a pointed look. You hurt her and I'll gut you. Gwyn laughed as Emerie's gaze softened again as she disappeared down the corridor,

"We'll leave you be as well," Azriel said, and Gwyn silently closed the door behind them, giggling when Azriel slid an arm fully around her waist and held her against him. She sighed, and leaned back into him, closing her eyes for a moment. A year ago she never would have thought that she could be this comfortable with a male, let alone starting to fall in love with one. She let Azriel hold her close all the way back up to the corridor separating their rooms, he needed the reassurance that she was safe as much as she did, besides, she'd never felt safer than when she was in his arms. They walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, but Gwyn's heart sank as she recognized her door coming up, and before she knew it the words were out of her mouth,

"Can I stay with you?" She froze as she realized, and the few seconds it took him to register her words felt like hours,

"You want to stay with me?"

"Yes. If that's okay." He grinned, spinning her around to face him,

"That is more than okay, Gwyn, all you have to do is tell me what you want." His gaze lingered on her face, meeting her eyes and dipping lower. Gwyn sucked in a breath, calming her trembling nerves as she lifted her face to meet his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and let one hand slide upwards to hold his head against her, her fingers automatically gripping his hair gently. Azriel was trembling with restraint as she opened, meeting her every move with one of his own, every thought narrowed down until it was him, just him, his arm around her waist, his hand cupping the back of her head. Shadows swirled around them both, hiding them in a cocoon of darkness. Gwyn gasped as the shadows slipped around her, not frightening her, never frightening her, simply holding her close to Azriel, her eyes flickered open as he moved, his great, beautiful wings curving around her as he pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the air between them. She smiled, and closed her eyes again. Safe. She was safe.

*****

Gwyn slept in one of Azriel's shirts that night, slipping under the covers with no hesitation and curling up beside him. Azriel resisted the urge to reach out for her, her terms, it would always be on her terms. Gwyn readjusted the blankets, wriggled closer to him, and snuggled into his chest as he gently wrapped his arms, and wings, around her. She mumbled his name softly, and scrunched her nose up when a shadow brushed the hair away from her face, Azriel couldn't bring himself to calm them yet, but they stilled as he closed his eyes, Gwyn's scent lingering as he drifted off to sleep.

"That's our star, forever." Azriel smiled as his mother turned back towards him, "Oh honestly, Azzy, do you ever comb your hair, it's a mess." Azriel winced as she tried to flatten the windswept tangles in his hair, her fingers snagging in a knot,

"I just landed, Mom!"

"As if that's an excuse." She cupped his face in one hand, thinking to herself, but smiled softly as she walked back to the house, his house, her safe haven, away from anyone who had tried to hurt her, a place Azriel had built himself, every stone, every brick, he had even made the furniture. "C'mon, Azzy, what are you waiting for? You'll catch cold!" Azriel sighed as his mother's voice floated through the air, soft, melodic. She leaned against the doorframe, and smiled, but something was wrong, her smiled faltered, and she mouthed at him to run as the shadowy figure of his half-brother appeared behind her.

"Mother!" He screamed, but his feet wouldn't move, wouldn't move as his mother stumbled away from the monster behind her, falling to the floor. Azriel blinked, and his brother vanished, replaced by a faceless male in a Hybern uniform, his mother screamed again, but her voice was different, younger, lighter, and her wings were gone. She screamed, her hair falling from the ribbon, not the dark brown of his mother's, no, now her hair was auburn, and Azriel shouted again as frightened teal eyes met his own. Azriel tried to call on his shadows as the faceless male approached her, flickering between a soldier of Hybern and the monster who called himself Azriel's brother. He was still frozen in place as Gwyn screamed his name, desperately calling for help, help that he could not give. He was helpless to save her.

"Your fault." A voice whispered in his ear, he recognized the voice, but it wasn't Mor standing beside him, it was just another faceless rebel. A dense fog descended so that he couldn't see Gwyn any longer, and he tried to move towards her, but he was still frozen in place

"You brought her into this," Elain's voice hissed into his other ear. Azriel tried to shake his head, no, he hadn't, had he?

"Your fault," Mor again, "You, you did this, you."

"You cast me aside for her, and led her to this." Elain's voice broke the spell, and he stumbled forwards,

"You." They chanted as one, "You. You brought her here. You took her to danger. You." Azriel recoiled in horror as the fog lifted "You. You killed her." Azriel sobbed at the sight of Gwyn's lifeless body, still lying outside his mother's house, and fell to his knees beside her. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be. He cradled her against his chest, even as her scent faded, and the smell of death filled the air around him. Azriel was still begging Gwyn to wake up, to come back to him when her face flickered, changing again, Feyre, Cassian, Mor, Rhys, Nesta, Amren, Elain, Mom. He couldn't breathe, he was going to die here with them, he was going to-

Azriel's eyes flew open, and he lurched upwards in the bed, his breathing was normal, his heart was racing, none of it had been real, there she was, still sleeping beside him. Azriel rubbed his eyes, cursing the silent tears that fell at the sight of Gwyn safe and alive. Her eyes flickered open, and she blinked in the darkness,

"Az?"

"It's okay."

"What happened?"

"Bad dream, it's fine, go back to sleep, it's fine." Gwyn sat up, and cupped his face in her hands,

"What?" He cursed those damned tears that started falling again at her concern, at the way she cared, even though he had brought her into danger, he had almost gotten her killed, and a part of him screamed in defiance at that possibility.

"All I've brought you is danger," he whispered,

"And happiness, and training, and my sisters, and the ability to go outside again," Gwyn rambled on and on, a hand on his shoulder the whole time, alarm flashing in her eyes as his breaths became shallower, more rapid, rattling in his chest, but she kept talking. She kept talking, when most people would have left him alone to 'figure it out' as he had always tired to convince them he needed, that he didn't need the worry in Gwyn's eyes, nor the relief when his breathing steadied, but he did, he needed it, needed her. "You know, Nesta told me that Helion has pegasi, she said we should have a race, us on pegasi, against you and Cassian," he smiled, and she continued "I've always wanted wings of my own," she sighed, "I've been staring at the stars my whole life, just wishing to be among them, in their place, high above the world, away from everything, just me and the stars, and the wind, I think it speaks, you know, if you know how to listen to it. Just like you and the shadows, I think there are those who can hear the wind whispering, it must be whispering, the way it rustles past my ears, I just wish I understood it."

Gwyn was still talking when Azriel finally fell back to sleep, his face buried in the crook of her neck, her hand cradling his head against her as she kept talking, about the stars, about the library, about chocolate covered strawberries of all things, but she kept talking.

*****

Gwyn gently stroked Azriel's hair as he slept, never letting go, she was never going to let go, not in a hundred years, a thousand, a million if they had that long. For as long as she could, as long as he wanted her, she was going to make sure he never felt like that again. He was everything she had ever wished for, all rolled up into one person, he wasn't perfect, she knew that. No-one was completely perfect, but that didn't change the fact that he was perfect for her, and she'd be damned if she'd let his fear change that. She'd be damned if she let her own fear change that.

She squashed her fear down, the one thing preventing her from saying the words she had wanted to the moment she had reached him in that dungeon, not now, not when he couldn't hear her. She would find a way to tell him, later, she'd tell him later.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #Gwyn acosf #Gwyn #Azwyn #Azriel

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missscarletta7 · 3 years

Text

The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction. I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created.

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed. "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response.

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened.

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be."

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly.

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope.

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

"I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it.

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased.

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #shelbysister #alfie solomons #oc #peakyblinders #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly shelby #adashelby #gangster #1920

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squidproquoclarice · 3 years

Note

Not a question but was thinking about how Arthur & Sadie would react to Bea or any of their children walking for the first time, considering everything they have been through to get to where they are, then having this precious little moment with their child.

December 1902 Ramita de la Baya, Nuevo Paraiso

On occasion, Sadie had to rethink the wisdom of being pregnant again in a small house with a dog, a cat, and a very energetic eleven month old daughter and ten month old nephew constantly underfoot. Especially with the babies more than old enough to crawl, that meant she and Karen kept busy watching them.

But today was a break from all that, and they’d all left Chuparosa. Karen had taken Danny to Escalera for a few days just to themselves, and to do some Christmas shopping. Being as it was Sunday, she and Arthur had taken Bea for an afternoon here beside the river. They’d set up in the shade of an ironwood tree, eating dinner and enjoying a fine sunny winter day. Christmas was coming soon, and Chuparosa would be ready for a fine fiesta for that.

She let herself just enjoy the breeze and the sunshine, relaxing around the bulk of her belly, and cuddling Bea to her shoulder. Two months to go for this child, and she knew from last Christmas pregnant with Bea that she’d grow bigger and more uncomfortable yet in that time. But she was worth every bit of it, she thought, caressing Bea’s petal-soft cheek with the back of her finger. Every bit of discomfort, the hours of labor, and all the effort for both her and Arthur since Bea’s birth. Because the joy far outweighed the hardship. They’d waited so long for this, both been through the ashes of a dream destroyed and believing they’d never have it again. They’d been so lucky to have a daughter already, and luckier yet to so quickly give her a sister or brother, the second child they’d agreed they both wanted so much. And you’ll be worth it too, baby. I know it.

She must have dozed off with Bea still in her arms, because she woke up to feel the little girl wriggling her way free like a determined eel, and calling happily, “Dada!” Pushing up to sit, she watching Bea crawling towards Arthur, coming back from down at the river bank with a fishing pole and wicker creel in hand.

Setting the fishing gear down, and crouching down to Bea’s level, he said, “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.” He glanced over at Sadie. “Got us some supper. Catfish.”

“Good. We got plenty of cornmeal, that’ll be nice.” Cornmeal was cheaper than wheat flour, and they still had some money left from the stash from the train robbery three years ago, but that couldn’t last forever. Not with no steady work for Arthur, and few people willing to hire a woman to begin, and certainly not one with a baby, so that meant she and Karen were mostly out of luck. The few months she and Arthur would do seasonal work at MacFarlane’s after the turn of the year would be the bulk of their income. That would keep things going. Give them time to keep looking ahead.

Until then, they did what they could, in the same way that Sadie had grown up. Cut costs where they could, managed to stretch a peso and the contents of the pantry, hunted or fished on days there was no work, turned the sound parts of worn out clothes into diapers and baby smocks. She and Karen took in mending and seamstress work, much as she chafed at it sometimes. Arthur found what odd jobs he could. He’d come home yesterday exhausted from helping build an addition to the bank, covered in gypsum dust from mixing and applying the white covering for the adobe brick to the point he looked like a ghost, except for the awkwardly tied green rag bandage and pinkish smears of blood on his left forearm where he’d cut it.

The cut was bad enough that she’d had to stitch that arm up last night by lantern light at the kitchen table after putting Bea to bed. Some fool slipped with his trowel, that’s all. Almost a shame we’re out of the bank robbing business, Daisy. All them years, I never figured out the best way to know a bank was to help build it.

Even now, he had another bandage tied around the injury, visible below the rolled-up sleeves of his purple shirt. It wasn’t a life they could continue forever. But they’d figure it out. Besides, even right now, they had so many joys.

Bea giggled, reaching up and getting her hands on Arthur’s knees, using them to haul herself upright, peering up into his face. “Hi.”

“Hello, Beanstalk,” he said, reaching out and gently caressing her hair. “You behaved while I was gone fishing?”

“She did. I notice you didn’t ask if I behaved, Art.”

“Shit, I know better than to expect you to behave.” He gave her a wink and a grin. “Happily for us both, might be that I prefer you that way.”

“Happily for you that you prefer that, cause I ain’t intending to change.” She gave him a wink in return.

“Mama!” Bea let go of Arthur’s knees with one hand to look at Sadie, grinning in delight. She let go with her other hand, taking two stumbling steps back towards Sadie before promptly falling flat on her diaper-clad bottom and giggling.

God, there were so many joys to this life. This second chance she never could have believed she’d get when Jake had been killed. Being with Arthur, living every day trying to make each other better versions of themselves. She’d seen Bea grow so much in almost eleven months, and here was one more thing. Clumsy and lurching as they were, those had been steps, her first ones. Another marvel in watching Bea continue to grow up, and she cherished it so much.

She looked over at Arthur, and saw the intent way he watched Bea, the smile that seemed to carry an edge of wistfulness. She’d seen that look before, and from his explanations before of what he’d been thinking at the time, she knew what it meant. Knew he was living in the happiness of this moment but also thinking back so many years to his son. Usually when it was that particular expression, it wasn’t the sorrow of memory. It was because this was something he was experiencing for the first time as a father, because he hadn’t been there to see it with Isaac, and he realized how much he’d missed back then all over again.

It would pass. It always did. And she watched it do so, and that smile and the look in his green eyes became nothing but pure joy and pride. “Got to say, Bea, you looked like your daddy after a bottle of whiskey, just about.”

“Babbling, stumbling around, but curiously enough, still sweet as anything? I’d say so.”

Arthur hitched up to standing, not even needing to take a step himself to go to Bea. He stooped over, gently hauling her back upright, holding her tiny hands within his large, rough ones. “I got you. Now, you try it again. Go to your momma.” Rolling up clumsily to her knees, Sadie held her arms out, heart suddenly beating faster. “Come here, baby. You can do it.”

With Arthur bracing her up, Bea managed the dozen or so slow, cautious, baby-sized steps back to Sadie. As Arthur let her go into Sadie’s arms, she scooped the little girl up, sitting back down with Bea in her lap, kissing her soundly on the cheek. “Oh, ain’t you a clever gal!”

“That’s my girl,” Arthur said, beaming as he sat down beside the two of them, leaning in to give Bea a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

Her eyes met Arthur’s, seeing the glow there that must have matched hers. Her throat felt tight for a moment from the pure delight of it. It had taken so long, and they’d been through so much. But here was a rainbow after that rainstorm that had torn everything apart. They’d learned to hope again, to dare to seize dreams that they’d both considered shattered. So here they were now, and she was glad that she’d gotten a chance to have this with a child of her own, glad that he’d been there to share this happiness and this memory with her. There would be more moments and more memories, both with Bea and the baby to come, and she let herself look forward to them.

#arthur morgan #sadie adler #sadithur #rdr2 #may the sunrise #fic prompts #bea griffith #Anonymous #said i'd answer this as a fic prompt #because i think it needed it

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xoxoperse · 3 years

Text

the challenge. / kung lao

“don’t pretend you don’t love the great kung lao, y/n.”

word count: 4,641

trigger warnings: none

pairings: kung lao x reader.

your fist met kung lao’s palm, for what seemed like the tenth time, sparring under the ginkgo tree that you both had been under for at least an hour, now. you both constantly seemed to find yourself under the same tree, whether it be while you hang out with lao while he is skipping his classes, or training with one another - mentor present or not - it had always been this same, beautiful tree.

“i have to admit,” you started as he released your balled fist from his grasp, “not to boost your ego or anything, but you have improved, kung lao.” you spoke with a hint of teasing in your tone as a smirk spread across your lips.

“what was that, now?” kung lao asked, putting his hand behind his ear, “i didn’t quite hear what you said; did you say: i’m better than you?” he cockily asked, raisng an eyebrow your way.

“don’t put words in my mouth, now,” you responded with a chuckle before you went to sit in the shade for a moment to cool off some. kung lao joined you, throwing his hat into the ground beside him before resting his back up against the tree trunk.

“that is absolutely what you said,” kung lao playfully argued, his snarky tone still remaining. “let’s not deny the fact that, that is what you actually said,” he teased, nudging you a little bit, which made you laugh softly, shaking your head a bit.

“often times, i wonder how i manage to tolerate you so much,” you joked, looking over to the monk with a smile playing on your lips. you may never actually say it to him, but you really did, somehow, enjoy lao’s company - he always knew how to make you laugh, and it was a laugh he always loved to hear.

“don’t pretend you don’t love the great kung lao, y/n,” he pried, now wiggling his eyebrows a few times, which only made you laugh a bit more.

“do i ‘love the great kung lao?’” you asked playfully, doing air quotes as you spoke. you had absently tilted your head to the side a little bit, still smiling rather widely.

“do i really have to tell you the answer to the obvious question?” he asked, shooting you a look that could bascially read ‘really? really?’ he truly did not think that you didn’t like him in the slightest; you wouldn’t have stuck around this long if that just so happened to be the case. that being said, sometimes these thoughts did reside in his head at times, though the doubts were rarely about you, and more about others around him. if there was anyone who going to truly stick around for as long as possible, it was going to be you and liu kang - and there were no two ways about it in his mind. yes, he was cocky, and he obviously knew that, but you and liu both knew how to put up with it, even if it was annoying at times - okay, most times.

“you mean the obvious ‘no,’ which would happen to be the correct answer?” you sassily retorted back to the man. and then, an idea hit you like a ton of bricks. “but, if you really want to say ‘i told you so’ on this, prove it to me,” you said in a challenging tone, your smile quickly being replaced by a smirk.

“prove it to you?” kung lao repeated, now furrowing his eyebrows together as he looked to you, with a puzzled look obviously written on his face. “how am i to prove this to you?”

“well, it’s simple; make me love you,’ you elaborated to him with a slight shrug as you spoke. “i mean, unless you are not up for the challenge,”

“oh, y/n,” lao scoffed with a devious smirk, “of course i’m up for the challenge. who do you think i am?” he sarcastically asked.

...

for the next few weeks, kung lao had been showering you for affection. he got you flowers, dinner, movie dates, everything. he was trying his damnedest, that for sure. to your surprise, it had been working, only a little bit, though - or so you thought.

tonight, lao was bringing over some food and a movie for you both to watch, and you were expexcting him any minute now. soon enough, the monk knocked on your door. you got up from your spot on the couch, going to the door and opening it. you greeted kung lao with a smile and a ‘hello,’ before stepping out of the way to let him inside. you closed the door behind him, meeting him back in the living room in your home.

“i got you peppered steak this time, since you liked it when i got it,” kung lao told you softly, smiling to you. if you were being honest, it was weird to see the man not wearing his razor-edged hat, or even his leather cap he was seemingly forever wearing.

“must be a special day for you to not be wearing your prized possesion,” you teasingly mentioned, helping him pull out the food and laying on the table.

“it’s weird to the both of us, y/n,” kung lao chuckled, nodding in agreement. “don’t worry,” he added, pulling out a pair of chopsticks for himself and you, before grabbing his own food: a container of lo mein.

you both found yourselves sitting side-by-side on your couch. after sitting for a minute, you realized that neither of you had popped in the movie. “we forgot the movie,” you chuckled with a smile, sitting your food back down on the table. the second you stood up to your feet, you heard yet another knock on the door. you looked to lao, confused. he gave you a light shrug, before you made your way to the door.

you opened your door once more, revealing lord raiden. “hello, y/n. may i come in?” he asked, keeping his hands behind his back, respectfully.

“of course, come in,” you answered, moving out of his way. once he walked in, you closed the door, seeing lao stand to his feet.

“i’m not interupting anything, am i?” the thunder god asked, looking between you and lao as you joined his side. once you gave him a ‘no, not at all,’ he continued on. “i need to ask something of you, y/n,”

you nodded in response, before speaking, “anything, i’ll be glad to help,”

“thank you,” raiden spoke, returning the nod. “there is a mission i need you to go on. it’s rather dangerous, but i’ve asked fujin to assist you on this,”

“may i ask what this mission is?” you asked, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“there has been an outbreak of demons killing humans in earthrealm, assumingly by the brotherhood of shadow.” he elaborated, his slightly hoarse voice filling the room.

“so what? you’re just going to send her out on a dangerous mission with a two person army?” kung lao questioned, making both you and raiden advert your gazes to him. “let me go with her, at least,”

“no, kung lao,” raiden spoke, shaking his head. “i refuse to let the both of you potentionally die out there, we can’t afford that kind of loss. if we need to send more out there, then that is what will happen,”

“then let me go instead,” lao insisted. he didn’t want to take this mission from you for his pride, he wanted to take it from you for your own safety - for the sake of your life. “what’s the difference between this mission and all of the others that you sent us on together? if it’s dangerous,” at that moment, you placed a hand on his muscular bicep to catch his attention as raiden remained silent upon seeing your actions to calm kung lao down.

“lao, it’s okay,” you reassured softly. he huffed as he met your eyes for a moment, almost like you were trying to telepathically convince him. “i can manage. besides, i’ll have a god on my side,”

“y/n, that doesn’t mean anything for your safety,” kung lao argued, raising an eyebrow your way.

you sighed, frowning before you spoke, “fujin won’t let anything happen to me,”

“and if he can’t? then what? i never see you again, i have to bury you six feet under?” the monk argued back. he’d be damned if you went out there without him, let alone let you die on this mission. kung lao didn’t care why raiden wasn’t sending him on the mission instead of you, nor was his pride hurt from the god’s decision. “i don’t want that for you, y/n. i won’t let it happen.”

“and i you, lao,” you responded with a hint of sadness in your tone. you took a quiet, deep breath, before looking back to raiden. “when am i being sent off?”

“we’ll need you to leave tomorrow morning,” he responded with a nod. “i’ll see myself out... enjoy your dinner, and thank you, again, y/n,” with that, raiden had walked back out of your home, leaving you and kung lao to discuss the event that just happened.

“i can not let you go on this mission, y/n,” lao spoke, his voice a bit lower than it had been before - he couldn’t dare yell at you.

“this does not alway have to end badly, lao,” you explained, sitting back down in your seat. you ran a hand through your hair, letting out a long sigh.

kung lao joined you on the couch once more, hunched over a bit with his elbow resting on his knee, and his forehead in this palm. “of all people, y/n,” he huffed, “of all people, he chose you - and i can’t even come with you,”

you looked to him, raising a brow, “are you implying i can’t do this on my own?” you asked, now starting to feel a bit fed up. “is that the real reason why you’re complaining so much? because your ego is hurt so much that you can’t take part of the fame?”

“that is not what i’m saying, y/n-“ lao quickly started, before hearing you take a deep breath, assuming to calm your nerves. “i’m saying is that if there was something to happen, i would rather it be me than you,”

“right...” you whispered, leaning back on the couch.”i’m going to pack and then head to bed... feel free to stay the night,” you offered, getting up from your spot. “help yourself to my food, as well,” you added, closing the container before standing up.

“y/n...” kung lao called, looking up to you as you got up, reaching for your hand, the sudden feeling making your insides a bit warm and fuzzy. he rose to his feet as soon as he grabbed your attention, a frown apparent on his lips. “i’m sorry,”

“lao, it’s fine,” you spoke, shaking your head a bit, knowing that your words were over-dramatic, “don’t worry about it... i should be apologizing,”

“all is forgiven. now, sit and eat with me,” he plead, sitting back down but keeping ahold of your hand as he tried to tug you down - gently, of course - with him. you let out a sigh of defeat, unable to help but crack a bit of a smile as you sat down beside him. you knew you over-reacted about the situation, at least you came to your senses about it. but you had to admit, it would be weird going on a mission without kung lao and/or liu kang, seeing how the three of you were always together for your missions.

you let out a bit of a sigh as you took a bite of your peppered steak in hand, before looking over to lao. “put your trust in fujin for me, okay?” you asked, stopping lao the moment he opened his mouth, assuming to speak against your plea to him. “he won’t let me be harmed, alright? and, i know it’s going to be weird without you being there, o’ knight in shining armour,” you teased with a smile, nudging the man beside you.

“knight in shining armour, you say?” he cockily asked, tilting his head to the side and wiggling his eyebrows.

he made you chuckle as you playfully shoved him away from you, “oh, be quiet.”

the next morning, you were up bright and early, already having got into the shower, packed, and had even already made breakfast for you and kung lao. you just made some simple eggs, bacon, and toast for your first meal of the day. now that the food was done, you had to awake kung lao from his slumber on your couch. you walked over, smiling down to him as he laid stomach-down on the sofa. “lao,” you cooed, placing your hand on his shoulder blade gently. when he went unresponsive to your attempts to wake him, you called his name again as you shook him a bit.

finally, the monk budged. “hmm?” he hummed tiredly, squeezing his eyes closed as he rolled over onto his side, facing your direction.

“breakfast is ready, if you want some,” you told him, speaking softly. he gave you a tired nod, before sitting up and stretching out his arms as you walked to make both of your plates.

soon, lao met you in your kitchen, his plate resting on the counter next to the stove, closest to the table. “thank you,” he told you sweetly, giving you a smile as he sat down after you quickly put a fork on his plate before he walked away, slipping one onto your own plate.

now, you had joined him at the table, you both digging into the food. you had to leave in about an hour and a half, so you knew you had to soak up at least a little bit more time with lao before you had to be gone, for elder gods know how long. “hey, promise me something, lao.” you requested softly, tilting your head a bit as you did so.

you caught his attention, him meeting your eyes. “anything, y/n,” he responded.

“don’t annoy liu kang to the point of murder while i’m gone, alright?” you asked, a smile breaking onto your lips with a laugh. “i know it’s hard for you to... well, watch what you say,”

the man laughed a little bit, as well, before nodding. “no promises, y/n,” he jokingly responded, the same, wide smile on his lips.

and just like that, the time had unknowingly quickly passed, and you had just gathered all of your luggage - well, lao gathered it all; he insisted - which just consisted of a backpack and a medium-sized suitcase. it would have to do, since you didn’t want to carry too much on this trip. kung lao’s hand remained on the handle for maybe a moment longer than it should have, contemplating if he could somehow talk his way into convincing you to not go on this mission, or at least talk you into letting him tag along.

you tilted your head to the side slightly as you watched his hand linger on the handle, a bit of a frown tugging on your lips. you absolutely felt bad that kung lao could not come with you and fujin on this mission, but you’d rather something happen to yourself over him, and it will always be that way, but, of course, you knew he felt the same exact way about the situatiion. the previous night remained on your mind, constantly replaying the night over and over in your head. the thought that you couldn’t shake was that... well, kung lao basically broke his extremely cocky shell. for once, you saw that he cared for someone else rather himself, or the sake of his family name.it was an odd occurence, and it was something that you had never exactly seen before. of course you knew that he cared about you and liked you enough to keep you around for all this time, but him acting out the way he did last night just seemed like a bit of a change - but a good kind of change.

now, kung lao’s gaze fell onto you, and he gave you a small smile, though big enough for you to see his cute dimple. he opened his arms to you, now making your frown disappear as you walked into his embrace. you held each other tight, for not knowing if this would be one of the last times you’d see one another in your lifetimes. it was savoury, to say the least. your arms went around his neck while his went around around your mid-torso, though he moved one of his hands to the back of your head.

“don’t die on me, alright?” the monk whispered to you, a hint of sadness in his tone.

“no promises,” you responded, your voice nearly as quiet as his. then, you chuckled a bit at your own thought. “i can’t believe i’m saying this, but i’ll miss you,” you told him, slowly and reluctantly pulling away, though still each other’s arms.

kung lao’s smile was quickly replaced with that cocky smirk of his, “did i just hear you right? did you say that you’ll miss me, the great kung lao?” he snarkily asked, making you roll your eyes with a stupidly big grin on your lips.

you laughed a little bit before responding, “alright, you got me there. you actually correctly heard what i said,” you playfully admit, smiling to him, having to slightly look up to him.

“do i still have a chance to win that challenge, even though you’ll be gone?” kung lao asked, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he spoke, curiousity clearly laced in his tone.

truth be told, you had almost forgotten the challenge you had set for him, though it was... well, working like a charm, almost. you gave him a nod, keeping up your act, “yes, if you can still find a way to do it,” you answered, wiggling your eyebrows at him with the tiniest smirk playing on your lips.

“i’ll win you over, y/n. you have my word,” kung lao responded, letting out a light chuckle. as lao fell silent, there was a gentle knock on the door, almost as if it was on cue. you finally pulled away from the shaolin, taking a step forward and reaching for the handle. as you turned the knob, you were greeted with a smiling fujin. his flowing hair was tied into a braid that seemed to end nearly a few inches off of the ground.

“hello, y/n, kung lao,” the wind god greeted, looking past your shoulder to the monk behind you.

“hello, lord fujin,” you greeted with a little head bow. “would you like to come in for a moment?” you offered, motioning your arm to the inside of your home.

fujin shook his head, “no, thank you.” he responded, the little smile still on his lips. he tilted his head a bit, noticing kung lao’s slightly obvious, annoyed demeanor . despite this, he could also feel sentiment radiating off of the monk. “i sense that you are upset, kung lao... or even, distrust. is everything alright?” he asked, his head remaining tilted.

kung lao simply nodded in the god’s direction, letting out a sigh. he held his tongue for the first time in his life, remembering the promise you asked him to make, though it was never settled on - verbally, at least. “keep her safe... we certainly couldn’t afford to lose her,”

“of course, kung lao.” lord fujin promised, keeping his hands behind his back. fujin’s gaze fell onto you once more, before he spoke up again, “do you have everything you need?” he asked, glancing down to your suitcase and bag that was up against the wall. when you gave him a ‘yes,’ he nodded once more. “good. i’ll let you say your goodbyes,” he spoke, before offering to hold your bags while he waited. you thanked fujin as he took the outside, and closed the door quietly behind him. you turned back to kung lao, letting out a sigh. you found yourselves hugging each other once more, this time being just a little bit tighter than the last hug. if you didn’t savour the last hug, you certainly were on this one. kung lao pressed a soft kiss to your head, his arms remaining around you.

simultaneously, you and kung lao pulled away from each other, offering the man a smile as you did so. “remember: don’t talk your way into liu kang murdering you while i’m gone. just build it up and wait until after, because i will gladly help him out,” you teased, chuckling a bit. kung lao laughed lightly, shakimg his head.

“you would kill me, the great kung lao? you wouldn’t dare!” he responded, only making your genuine chuckles turn into laughs. you playfully placed a hand on his chest to push him away from you.

“yes, the great kung lao” you mocked, failing to match his cocky tone, “i would.” though you were, of course, teasing him, he couldn’t help but feel warm inside as he heard those words come out of your mouth, along with your laughs. it was like a melody to his ears, as it always had been. “i should go... i don’t want to keep fujin waiting,” you sadly told him, all of the happiness in your tone withering away with every word you had said.

reluctantly, he nodded, “right...” he muttered. he knew, at this point, there was nothing he could do to convince one - or both - of you otherwise, so he finally, unfortunately, gave it up. “goodbye, y/n,” he told you softly, meeting your eyes one last time.

“goodbye, kung lao,” you responded. you took a step closer to him, standing up a bit on your toes to kiss his cheek before you approached the door again. you took a deep breath, glancing back to lao before opening it up. “sorry to keep you waiting, lord fujin,” you apologized, stepping out.

the long-haired god turned around, sending a nod your way. “no worries,” he said softly. he looked back into your home, to kung lao. “i’ll get y/n back to you, kung lao,” the god promised once more as you sling your backpack over your shoulder.

the monk only nodded to fujin, before you gave him a little wave and a smile. kung lao returned both, walking up to the door as the little smile remained on his lips, almost as if he was trying to wordlessly convince you that things will be okay. soon, you and fujin walked away, only having glanced back to the beloved monk behind you again, wishing he could come with you.

as soon as you and fujin were out of his sight, he closed the door behind him, deciding to clean up from that morning and the previous night before he had to leave, himself, to meet liu kang at the wu shi temples for the day.

...

the days seemed to grow longer and longer to you and kung lao while you were gone, defending for earthrealm’s sake. you found yourselves writing to each other at least once a week through the three months, just to save the other’s sanity and calm the other’s anxious nerves. calling the mission insane would probably be an understatement. there were more demons than you and fujin both had expected, let alone how strong their powers were. after many nicks here and there, maybe a bad gash or two, you were finally able to come back home. in your final letter to kung lao, you were happy to tell him that you got to come home that following weekend.

fujin walked with you through the wu shi’s tree-filled field, holding a conversation on earthrealm customs, which mainly consisted of you trying to explain them to the god. suddenly, fujin fell silent for a moment, nudging you with a little smirk on his lips. you looked up to him, furrowing your eyebrows before he nodded his head in the direction of a certain monk. your confusion soon turned into joy, happy to see the man you had craved to see in these past months. “go get him,” he whispered. he offered to take your bags into the temple, you thanking him quickly before you made your way to kung lao.

his hat appeared to be thrown into the dirt, the prized possession standing straight up. you were able to grab the razor-edged hat and place it on your head - luckily without a scratch - before you spoke up. “who is the great kung lao now?” you asked, catching his attention. he looked up to you, smilng as he jumped to his feet as he let out a laugh. he pulled thehat off of your head so he didn’t harm himself on accident, laying it back onto the ground before he hugged you. his arms snaked around your waist as your own went around his neck. he lifted you off of the ground for a moment, the widest grin on both of your lip as you enjoyed the embrace.

“you didn’t miss me too awful much, did you?” kung lao asked you as you both pulled away from each other. you chuckled and rolled your eyes a bit with the smile still on your lips, happy as ever. your hand found it’s way to his cheek, genty rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone as you placed a long, loving kiss to his lips. it had absolutely been something you wanted to do for awhile now, but you almost craved it in these past three months. slowly, you pulled away from him, still smiling to him. “i told you so,” he whispered, bis smile turning into a smirk.

“yeah, yeah - be quiet,” you teased. on cue, you heard someone clear their throat from behind kung lao. you and lao let go of each other, the man turning around as an arm absently remained around your waist for a moment, seeing no one other than the chosen one himself. “liu!” you called happily, leaving kung lao’s side and heading to the other monk. once again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, while his went around your mid-torso.

“i see that you survived your mission, y/n,” liu kang spoke, you both simultaneously pulling away from each other, “see where actually attending class can get you, kung lao?” he teased with a smile.

“i’m still here, aren’t i” kung lao retorted, tilting his head a bit as his smirk had returned to his cute, dimple-y smile.

you chuckled, “i do have to admit, lao, i am truly surprised that you didn’t actually annoy liu to your death,” you joked,

“not quite,” liu started with a tiny, slightly devious smirk on his lips, “but he sure did talk my ear off about you,”

you dramatically gasped, shooting kung lao a teasing look as an obvious, dark blush appearing across his cheeks. “so, maybe you did actually miss me too much,” you teased with a laugh. “alright, children, let’s get to class,” you said once your laughter had calmed. the shaolin monks joined you on the walk to the wu shi temples. you were truly glad to be back with your friends - but let’s be honest, the two men by your side really were like your family.

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bakubabes-tatakae · 3 years

Text

Request: Hello! I'm the anon that forgot to add the choice list for the 2k special Dabi request. It's choice 4. Sorry and thanks. I hope you're having a great day ❤️

You’re so welcome nonny. I’ll never turn down a Dabi request. 🥺❤️ I hope you’re having a great day too !

New Found Feelings || Dabi x fem!Reader

Event Masterlist | Tip Jar 📬

AO3 Link

Warnings: fluff, angst, attempted kidnapping, violence

Word Count: 1.2k

The streets of Musutafu were dark as the wind whipped at your skin. It was the coldest it had been in a long time and your legs couldn’t carry you to your apartment any faster. Pictures of the city were like flashes in your head as you thought about how eerie it all was. You had barely heard anyone come up behind you when you heard the familiar voice. “Hey, dollface.”

You turned quickly. You were sure you had known who the voice had belonged to, but your fear still took over your senses. When you turned to face him you saw that familiar smirk that always painted it. “Dabi.” You relaxed as you focused on his features. “It’s just you. I’m glad to see you.”

He sauntered forward and leaned against the wall of the brick building that accompanied you. “I just wanted to check on you.” Dabi had been more protective of you lately than he ever had been. You were his best friend and the League of Villains was growing more and more well known every day. His worst fear was that something would happen to you.

“How did you know where I was?” You raised your eyebrows at him. Had he been following you?

He chuckled as he noticed your accusing stare. “I went to your apartment and you weren’t there so I figured you had to be somewhere between your work and there.” He reached forward and pushed your hair behind your ear. “I guess I just got lucky after that.”

Dabi had always meant well. He had always said that he had wanted to be nothing more than friends when it came to you, but there was an aura around him when he was with you that always said more. “Well, I’m happy to know that you’re looking out for me.”

“I’m always looking out for you.” The charm was being laid on hard when there was another voice that spoke behind him.

“Dabi, we have to get going. Stop dilly-dallying.” You recognized the voice of another League member almost instantly, Himiko Toga.”

Dabi turned to look at her and snapped a little. “Yea, yea, give me a minute you little psycho.” He turned back to you and stood up straight from the wall. “Get home quickly doll, it’s not safe out here.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. What was he talking about? Was something going on? You didn’t question him, just watched as he walked back toward his group with his hands in his pockets.

The wind seemed to pick up as he left and you turned to start back toward your apartment. You gripped the sides of your coat and pulled it tighter around yourself in an attempt to keep in as much body heat as you could.

When you were merely fifty feet from your front door you heard footsteps behind you again. You had expected it to be Dabi, so without hesitation, you turned and expected to greet him. The face of the person that stood before you was not Dabi. An older man with graying hair had a terrifying smile on his face. “Well hello, you pretty little thing.”

You swallowed hard and turned as quickly as you could, sprinting toward your door, but he was too quick. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you back to him as he forced you to walk toward the alley in between your apartment. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you struggled against this grip. “Please…” You could barely get words out as his arm wrapped around your throat. “Let me go…”

He pushed you up against the wall, the cool, hard rock uncomfortable on your exposed skin. “If you had just come with me and not tried to run we wouldn’t be in this predicament, now would we?”

You tried to speak, but you could feel your consciousness slipping from you. Your vision was slowly turning darker and darker as you fought to keep yourself conscious.

You had thought you had noticed a familiar color as you finally fell to the ground, unsure of how you had even gotten there. A bright burst of blue shined as you finally felt yourself slip away.

* * * * * *

When your eyes opened again you were in a familiar room. You looked around and recognized the few pictures and things on the walls. Dabi’s room.

You slowly sat up, putting your hand to your head as you felt a pounding begin. You gazed in every direction, hoping that he was in the room and that you didn’t have to venture outside of it. You caught him in the corner of your eye and heard him speak at the same time. “You’re awake.”

He stood quickly and approached you, sitting on the side of the bed next to you and placing a hand on your knee. “I was so worried that I wouldn’t get there in time.”

“That blue light I saw. That was you?” You had known there was something familiar about it, about the way the light seemed like it wanted to harm someone, but that someone wasn’t you.

“Yea. It was me.” He reached up to your face and placed a hand under your chin, making you look at him. “I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again… I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”

You could feel the warmth on your cheeks growing as you tried to keep your cool. You had never expected words like this to leave him. You had never expected him to care this much. “Why didn’t you just leave me there? So that I could wake up and head home. You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

He almost looked offended as he narrowed his eyes. “You mean too much to me to do that Y/n. I could never leave you there.”

“I-” You tried to speak, but you felt a knot form in your throat.

Dabi placed a finger over your lips in an attempt to quiet you. “Just let me say something. If you want to hit me after then you can.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Y/n… I love you.” He hesitated for a second but held his hand up when you tried to answer. “You’re the first person I’ve ever truly been in love with. As hard as it is to say… you’ve shown me what true love can feel like.”

You wanted to throw yourself at him. You had been in love with Dabi since the day you had met him, but you had felt he could never. You climbed onto your knees and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulder before pushing him backward on the bed and roughly placing your lips to his.

You both allowed your lips to linger together and when you broke apart you had almost felt empty. You spoke softly to him and the grin that spread across his face put your mind at ease. “I love you too, Dabi.” You knew that you had him, you knew that he was now yours. Forever able to call the man with the blue flames your own.

Outside the walls when they were on missions had always been something that Levi had found both pleasing and anxiety inducing, but it reminded him that even in these times it was possible to find solace in things that might be scary.

Y/N rode next to him on her horse, keeping up with his pace no problem. They were too clear out as many Titans in the area as they could to try and deplete their population. She looked at peace as the wind blew through her H/C hair, he would never understand why he couldn’t get the courage to just tell her how he felt. He was the great Captain Levi after all, he was humanity’s strongest. It shouldn’t be that daunting of a task for him.

A swarm of Titans were in front of them and without hesitation Y/N soared through the air, taking them down with as much ease as Levi himself had with them. You could tell who had taught her everything she knew. Soldiers soared everywhere, blades piercing flesh, Titan after Titan hitting the ground.

After what seemed like hours of riding around a green smoke signal shown for all the soldiers in the sky. They all stopped what they were doing and looked around at each other. Commander Erwin must feel like enough have been taken down for the day.

Levi rode over to Y/N and stopped in front of her. “Good work L/N. Let’s head back to the gates.” His heart fluttered every time he talked to her. This had to be the day, he had to tell her, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N smiled at him. “Thank you, Captain Levi.”

They both turned their horses around and the soldiers headed for the walls.

* * * * * *

When the soldiers were all safely back through the walls and the horses were taken care of everyone met at headquarters, enjoying some food and beer, along with the occasional hook up between the soldiers.

Levi sat at the desk in his office, he had sent the mad scientist, Zoe Hange, down to the common area to retrieve Y/N. There was a quiet knock on the door a couple seconds later. “Come in, it’s open.”

When Y/N walked through the door his heart stopped. She was always stunning, it made him feel like she was out of his league. When they weren’t on the field Y/N referred to him in a friendly manner rather than the formal Captain Levi title. “Hey Levi, you wanted to see me?”

Levi stood from his desk and walked toward her. “Uh, yea, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Levi could feel his heart beating fast against his chest.

Y/N walked to the couch on the wall across from his desk and made herself at home. “What’s up?”

Levi reaches a hand out to her. “Stand back up, this is important.” Y/N looked a little nervous, but did what he said. “I don’t know how to say this without it coming off as weird. I’ve been trying to tell you this for months, I’ve just never found the right time to do it.”

Y/N looked even more confused now. “Just spit it out Levi, I couldn’t think you’re anymore weird than I already think you are.”

Levi scoffed. “Coming from you.” He crossed his arms and smirked at her.

“That’s cold Ackerman.” She chuckled.

He stood there in silence for a minute before speaking again. “I’ve been afraid to tell you this for some time now, afraid that it would affect our friendship, but I can’t hold it in anymore Y/N.” Levi put a hand on each side of Y/N’s face and stared into her eyes. “I’m so in love with you, Y/N.”

There was a look of shock on Y/N’s face, but she didn’t move. A smile seemed like it was spreading, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Levi put his finger up to stop her. “Let me do something first.” Levi put his lips to hers and she met his movements. The butterflies in his stomach were incomparable in this moment.

Y/N smiled when he pulled away. She put a hand on his chest and put her head on his shoulder. “It took you long enough Levi.” He drew in a harsh breath as she continued. “I love you too.” She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled his face down to hers again, wanting to feel his lips on hers one more time.

Revamped: 4/19/2021

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @caothicsimptown @taliyahvermillion @susceptible-but-siriusexual @ellechanwrites

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