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skzhocomments · 8 months ago

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Thank you for reading <3 Here: Alternative Ending to heal your broken heart

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Chris's head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and realises that the place looks eerily familiar.

His neck starts hurting the moment he sits up in his chair, but he doesn’t pay the pain much mind, as he is more confused than ever. He recognises the place as his old studio back when he was still working at JYPE. How many years ago was that? Way too many.

The confusion only intensifies when he looks at his hands and sees them devoid of any wrinkles and dark spots, and he immediately gets alerted. He pinches his skin, as if to see if it would hurt, and the pain comes immediately. If this is a dream, it’s a way too realistic one.

He sees his phone lying on the table and stretches to grab it, and once he unlocks it, the picture of you, his favourite, is staring back at him. He swears he was at the cemetery and saw this exact picture on your gravestone just the other day.

The next wave of confusion comes when he notices the date and time. It’s way past 12PM, and the date is your death anniversary, the same year you passed. Only this time around, his phone is not flooding with notifications. The only unread messages are from you, and you seem worried.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come home last night. Do you really want to break up?”

He shoots up the moment he reads it and stops overthinking, dialling your number instead. If this is really a dream, he’s happy he gets to see you one last time.

“Yes.” You answer, your tone slightly annoyed.

“Babe.” His eyes swell up with tears when he hears your voice.

“What?”

“I love you.” He bursts into crying. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve said last night. I need you more than anything. Where are you? At home?”

“Wow, I was expecting you to apologise, but…” You chuckle briefly. “Yes. Are you coming for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He wipes his tears. “I’m coming. Please wait for me.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Chris has never run as fast to his car before. He barely sees the roads and even if it’s been decades, he still remembers the drive between your shared former apartment and the studio. He gets back home in 10 minutes, a record, as the drive usually takes him 20 at least.

He types in your old passcode, and as the door opens, you’re there.

You’re there.

He can’t believe it.

You’re there, alive, and breathing. There are no empty plates and half-drunk glasses of water stained by your lipstick on the table. He looks at the sink, and they’re currently drying. You’ve washed them.

There is no box of tampons on the counter, no jewellery on the coffee table. Your hairbrush is clean, your face serums rearranged. The bed is made.

You’ve cleaned up.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask after you follow him erratically moving from room to room.

“I’m… oh, God. Baby, come here.” He comes and hugs you tightly, starting to cry again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You frown, a bit taken aback by his behaviour. Sure, you’ve fought, but still.

“How… how did you get home last night?”

“Well, initially I was super upset and wanted to walk back home to clear my mind, but I saw a cab in front of the building and the driver called my name, so I assumed you ordered me one. Didn’t you?”

“I… oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” Chris cries even harder, hugging you tighter, until you eventually pull back, truly concerned.

He starts kissing you, apologising over and over and over, and he’s never felt more grateful.

You’re alive. He’s been given a second chance.

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

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A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

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The Five Stages of Grief

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“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

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Denial

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Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N) Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

youtube

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

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katnisspeetaprim · 2 years ago

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Again? Really?

Jeon Jungkook/Reader.

Summary: Based on the live he did a couple hours ago where he just fell asleep on camera. Honestly this is so bad lol, I wrote it at 1.30am on my phone so it's not edited!

Word Count: IDK but its short. M.list

You stirred awake slowly, light coming from the thin curtains helping to rouse you. At some point in your sleep, you had thrown your arm around Jungkook, so you were basically spooning him from behind. Your fingers gently stroked over his tattooed arm as he continued to sleep soundly. You smiled to yourself as his muscles twitched beneath your touch. With a sigh, you rolled over, away from his warmth and glanced at the bed side clock to see the time. It was almost 7.45AM. Too early really to get up when you didn’t need to be anywhere, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now. With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself to get up and stretched out. You grabbed your phone and dressing gown, and made your way to the bathroom. It had just gone 8AM when you had started making breakfast in the kitchen. 8AM was the time you set for your do not disturb to turn off, so imagine your surprise when your phone got flooded with notifications first thing in the morning. ‘What the-‘ At the very top of your alerts, sat a notification from Weverse , that Jungkook had gone live almost an hour ago. You hesitantly opened the live, and your shoulders sagged at what you saw. Jungkook was streaming himself sleeping. ‘Jeez Kook, again? Really?’ You groaned pit annoyed. You began shuffling your way to the bedroom to end the live, when a sudden scary thought crossed your mind… If he went live an hour ago, then that means you would have been seen behind him as you slept and eventually got up. You pinched your forehead between your thumb and forefinger as you felt a sudden headache come on. ‘I’m so going to kill him..’ When you re entered the bedroom, you saw that he was still asleep. Your face softened when you sae how cozy he looked. You almost didn’t want to wake him. Almost. You spotted his phone om his bedside table. Grabbing the device, you turned it off without even a wave goodbye to the camera, not even caring if you got caught on stream. You threw his phone to the side, and kneeled on the bed in front of him. ‘Kook, wake up.’ You spoke firmly, though you only shook his shoulders lightly, not wanting to startle him. He stirred slightly, tired eyes parting a little. ‘Y/N… Come back to bed.’ He reached up and grabbed your arm making a half arsed attempt to pull you down next to him. ‘I don’t think so Kookie. You have some explaining to do.’ He hummed at you, not really paying attention to your words as his eyes fluttered closed again. ‘Care to explain why you were live at 7 in the morning?’ As soon as the words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open and he shot up, now wide awake. ‘Oh my god the live! I totally for-‘ ‘Relax.’ You held out your hand with a roll of your eyes. ‘I already turned it off.’ You crossed your arms and leaned back on the heels of your feet, looking at him expectantly. He pushed his hair back out of his eyes, and looked at you sheepishly. ‘I really am sorry jagi. I didn’t mean to fall back asleep.’ You felt yourself relax as he apologised. You knew you couldn’t stay mad at that cute face. You reached out and stroked his cheek with a smile. ‘Just… Next time you go live, maybe wait until you are fully awake.’ He sighed in relief when he saw you smiling softly. ‘Ah! You are the best. I love you.’ He dramatically threw his head back and lay back down, snuggling into the sheets. ‘I love you too, but don’t go back to sleep lazy bum!’ You slapped his ass as he turned his back towards you. ‘I have breakfast cooking!’ He acknowledged you in the form of a grunt as you left the room. When you returned to the kitchen, you picked up your phone so you could delete all the notifications, when you noticed that you had a new text from Namjoon.

Namjoon: Y/N Please control the maknae. He’s a menace with these lives recently. You chuckled softly and typed back a reply. Y/N I try my best but you know what he’s like when he gets ideas in his head. Chaos

#Bts #Bts x reader #Imagine #One shot #Scenario #Drabble #Reaction #Smut #Fluff #Angst #Kim seokjin #Min yoongi #Jung hoseok #Kim namjoon #Park jimin #Kim taehyung #Jeon jungkook

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

Note

So I just read lunch (no) date and loved it! Would you ever add on to it? Maybe Foggy being a friend to the reader and confronting Matt anyway? I would love to see Matt’s excuse for this.

thank you so much, I had a fair few requests for a continuation, so I just had to do it. so glad you liked it💌

lunch [no] date // part 2 (matt x f reader)

wc || <1k

warnings || none

< PART 1 <

masterlist + rules

taglist

Foggy & Matt's pov:

Foggy was pacing around the office feeling antsy waiting for Matt to come back. The doorknob twists and he rushes towards the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He immediately lets out, as if that was the exact thought that had been racing around his brain.

“Uh- tell you what?” Matt asks while taking off his coat, handing it on the rack.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know.” Foggy says frustratedly.

“I really don’t know… I was down at the police station talking to a client, is that what you mean?” Matt says shorty, resting his hands on his hips.

“No, you dick.” Foggy slightly grunts, tapping Matt on the shoulder. “You have a girlfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Matt sighs, “wait- how do you know? Was she here? … Because I can smell her, but I just thought that it was from my coat.”

“Yes, she was here, she left about twenty minutes ago.” Foggy says simply.

“Well, what else did she say?” Matt asks sounding a bit worried.

“You need to talk to her, she’s probably devastated… how could you not tell me?” Foggy painfully smiles. “She’s a good one, you can’t ruin this Matt, go and talk to her.”

“Okay, alright.” He sighs walking into his office, forcefully shutting the door behind him and slumping into his chair.

Your pov:

Sitting in the middle of a boring meeting, your brain keeps you alert by making you remember what had just happened. Is he embarrassed by me? Does he even like me?

Feeling your phone vibrate, subtly pulling it out to look at it under the table. Seeing Matt’s name light up the screen. Yeah, I don’t think so. Deciding to turn it off, so you don’t get yelled at because of the incessant ringing.

Finally finishing work for the day, making your way home you turn your phone on to see a flood of missed texts and calls from Matt, some from Foggy too.

Skim reading a couple of the notifications, momentarily holding the phone under your chin as you opened the main door to your apartment building. Lugging up the stairs to see Matt patiently leaning against your door.

“Angel, hey!” He sweetly coos, slowly walking over to you.

“Hi.” You say shortly.

“I know you’re probably very upset right now, but please can we talk?” He says softly, moving out of the way of the door so you could unlock it.

“Uh- okay, yeah fine. Come in.” Trying to debate whether you’re ready to listen yet.

“Okay so, firstly, I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier- I had to meet someone down at the station… And I’m so, so sorry for not telling Foggy. He thinks of you as his little sister… and I didn’t want him to disapprove.”

“Why would he disapprove?” You softly ask.

“I thought that- I didn’t think I’d be good enough for you, and that Foggy would think the same.”

“Matt…” you coo, cupping his cheeks. “You should’ve said, I never knew you felt that way.” Your thumb stroking his cheeks.

“I really am sorry. It just all got on top of me.”

“You don’t need to apologise, I get it, it’s really okay.” You reassure.

“You’re not mad?” He says as his arms wrap around you.

“Nope. I just thought you were embarrassed by me or something.” Wryly laughing in an attempt to deflect your awkward thought.

Pulling apart slightly to kiss your forehead. “Never.”

#matthew murdock #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock x you #daredevil

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years ago

Text

Oizys - Part 2

Part 1

He never brought it up unless she did, small details emerging every now and again, usually after nightmares she would have once let him believe were about a cold floor in Boston, not the lumpy ground of the woods in Utah more than half a lifetime ago.

-x-

Hi friends!

This was only ever supposed to be a one shot, but I had an idea for a follow up and in classic Vic fashion it would not leave me alone so here we are. You definitely need to read part 1 for this to make sense!

I would like to dedicate this to @sapphoe-sun, who allows me to torment her with fics like this at my will. I'd apologise, but we both know I absolutely would not mean it <3

-x-

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Troubled teen industry, implied/referenced abuse (nothing different to what would be mentioned in canon), trauma/PTSD

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles as she gets out of the car, something in her chest easing as she walks towards Jess’s front door, excitement at seeing her children for the first time in a few days flooding through her system. Whilst she didn’t work for the BAU anymore, a decision she and Aaron had made a few months ago, she still helped out with cases when the team needed her. They’d spent the last few days in Ohio, the distance between her and her children feeling like she was on a different continent not just a couple of states away, and she was excited to be home.

Around rounds the car and places his arm around her shoulders. He drops a kiss on the top of her head as they step onto Jess’s porch and Emily rings the doorbell.

“I was thinking we should go to the zoo this weekend?” He says, and Emily tilts her head to look at him, “Vi loves the polar bear, Jack loves the lions. It’s one of the few places we can keep them both entertained.”

Emily chuckles and nods, “That sounds like a good idea,” she says, the thought of an uninterrupted day with her family making warmth buzz in her veins, “We may have to carry Vi away from the polar bear though, she thinks he’s her best friend.”

He laughs but any further conversation is cut off as Jess’s front door opens and he watches as something close to surprise flashes across his ex-sister-in-laws face, causing concern to spark in his stomach.

“Oh, hi,” Jess says, leaning against the doorframe, smiling as she looks at Emily, “If you’re here for the kids they aren’t here,” she says, and both of their smiles slip from their faces, “Your mom came to get them a couple of hours ago, she said she wanted to take them for dinner and she’d let you know.”

Any relief Emily had felt as they approached the house was now gone, her chest tighter by the second, “No,” she says, disconnecting herself from Aaron as she digs through her purse for her phone, her stomach twisting when she sees she has no new notifications, no texts or missed calls, “She didn’t call.”

Anxiety spreads through her veins like wildfire, destroying everything in its wake as her brain fills with worse-case scenarios that she knows are ridiculous but she can’t shake off, all of them finding places to hide in her lungs making it impossible for her to take a deep breath. She hated her mother having the kids by herself even when it was a planned thing, every minute an eternity until she saw her children again, but this was worse. The thought that she had no idea where they were enough to make her choke. She sees flashes of the wilderness as she blinks, a familiar chill she’d never been able to shake crawling up her spine, its hand wrapping around her throat.

She’s brought back to the moment by Aaron’s palm on her lower back, his warmth reaching her even through the material of her shirt, and she snaps out of it. She fixes a smile on her face, one she hopes the other woman can’t see through and clears her throat. Despite her panic, she knows Jess has no idea, that she doesn’t know the depth of Emily’s issues with her mother, and all she would have seen was a grandmother fresh back from an assignment in Europe who wanted to spend time with her grandchildren.

“She must have just forgotten, We all know how Vi and Jack can talk anyone's ear off,” she says, grateful that by some miracle her voice doesn’t shake. She looks up at Aaron, “We should just go to my mother’s they are probably there by now.”

She turns and walks away without saying goodbye to Jess, something Aaron covers up with a comment she barely hears about how it had been a long few days and that she was tired before he says goodbye for the both of them. Emily is already in the car, her seatbelt fastened and her thumbnail in between her teeth, when Aaron opens the driver's door and climbs in next to her.

The tension in the car is palpable, the air thick with everything she wants to scream but can’t. It had been eight months since the case that had made her accidentally admit her deepest secret to him and the team, a shared experience with an unsub that had briefly knocked down one of the walls she’d built when she was young. Aaron had been nothing but understanding since then. He agreed to not to her mother about it despite the fact Emily could so clearly see that he wanted to protect her from something that happened years before they had even met. He never brought it up unless she did, small details emerging every now and again, usually after nightmares she would have once let him believe were about a cold floor in Boston, not the lumpy ground of the woods in Utah more than half a lifetime ago. She wishes she’d told him years ago. That she’d set free the part of herself she’d locked up so tightly long before she had, his comfort and his warmth the balm she should have known she needed.

She can feel his gaze burning into the left side of her face as she purposely stares forward, sure that if she looked at him she’d burst into tears.

“Em-”

“Can we just go?” She asks, cutting him off, her voice harsher than she means it to be. She sighs and places her hand on his knee, squeezing tightly in a silent apology, “Please?”

There’s a beat of silence and for a moment she worries he’s going to argue with her, but then she hears the click of the key in the ignition followed by the start of the engine. He links one hand with hers and she holds on tightly, needing the connection she still wasn’t entirely sure how to ask for even after all this time. Affection he always seemed to know she needed before she did, always waiting at the sidelines ready to hand it out without being prompted.

They drive to her mother’s in silence, the only sound the repeated attempts of Emily trying to call her, the phone going to voicemail each time before she hung up without leaving a message before trying again.

Aaron holds her hand the entire way.

___

“Where the fuck are they?” Emily asks, her arms tight over her chest as they stand in her mother’s driveway after being told by her housekeeper that she wasn’t home yet and that the kids hadn’t been over at all.

“Have you tried calling her again?” Aaron asks, doing everything he can to keep calm himself despite his own anxiety rising. He needed to stay level-headed, something that Emily usually did herself, but the kids were, and always had been, her Achilles heel. The chink in her armour that made a woman who had faced death without blinking the nervous wreck in front of him.

“I haven’t fucking stopped trying, Aaron,” she shouts, her jaw tight as she grinds her teeth, “How does she not know that she can’t just take them somewhere? Who the fuck does she think she is just disappearing with them?”

Aaron knows that there isn’t an answer to that, and that whilst there was likely an explanation for all of this, no matter how flimsy, which Elizabeth would deem as a reason. He doesn’t say it though as he watches his wife pace back and forth in front of the house she had once lived in, her nerves shot as she tortures herself with scenarios he knows he won’t be able to talk her out of. The only thing that would calm her down would be seeing Jack and Violet.

He’s about to risk his career by abusing all of the systems he has access to, his phone in his hand to call Penelope to ask her to put out an APB on Elizabeth, when he hears the familiar churn of the front gate. He turns at the same time as Emily and the relief he feels is palpable when he watches Elizabeth’s car pull into the driveway.

Emily swears she doesn’t have control of her body as she walks towards the car, her legs shaking underneath her as her mother’s driver gets out of the car and opens the back door, lifting Jack out and onto the ground. She takes a breath so deep that it hurts, catching on every rib as she sucks it in when she sees Elizabeth climb out of the car, Violet already in her arms from where she’d removed her from the car seat. She turns away for a moment so the kids can’t see her, and she tries to catch her breath as she wipes her cheeks, pushing away tears of relief that had escaped past her lashline.

“Mom, Dad!”

She blows out a breath before she turns back to face them as Jack calls for them and she smiles widely, wearing it like a mask, as she crouches down as he runs over. She wraps her arms tightly around him and kisses the side of his head, the smell of his shampoo calming her down.

“Hi honey,” she says, pulling back to look at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he replies, squeezing her once more before he untangles himself from her to hug Aaron. Emily briefly watches the two of them together, before she’s distracted by her daughter.

“Mama!”

She looks over at her two-year-old and beams, purposely ignoring her mother as she takes Violet from her and pulls her into her arms.

“Hi sweet girl, Mama missed you,” she says, placing repeated kisses against her little girl’s dark hair, “Mama missed you so much.”

“Grandma took us for pizza,” Jack says, his voice full of excitement, and Emily looks at her mother, her eyes cold whilst neither of her children are looking at her.

“That was nice of her,” Emily says carefully, her eyes locked with Elizabeth’s as she makes her feelings clear despite her choice of words.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen them so I thought I’d surprise them,” Elizabeth says, and Emily has to suppress a bitter chuckle, creating a lump in her chest that hurts, and she shakes her head.

“It was a surprise for everyone,” Emily mutters, and Aaron steps closer to her, his hand on her back as he takes Violet from her, kissing the toddler's forehead as he says hello and settles her on the ground simultaneously.

“Jack,” he says, turning to look at his son, “Take your sister and get in the car,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, “You can play music on here or watch some of those videos she likes on YouTube if you want.”

Jack looks back and forth between them, his eyes flicking from Emily and Elizabeth who were in a silent standoff, and Aaron who was still looking at him, and he nods. He reaches out for Violet's hand and starts to lead her to the car.

“Come on Lettie,” he says, using the nickname only he used for his little sister, “That means the grown-ups have to talk.”

Violet, mercifully unaware of the awkwardness her brother had picked up on, follows gladly, always happy to be wherever Jack was. The three adults wait until they hear the car door open and then close again, the silence that follows the slam of the door loud and uncomfortable.

“Where the hell were you?” Emily asks, her anger barely restrained now the anxiety was gone and she knew her children were safe, “You can’t just take them somewhere without telling us.”

Elizabeth sighs, “I told Jessica where we were going.”

“I am their mother,” Emily grits out, her hands tight around her arms as she crosses them over her chest, her nails digging in through her shirt, “You need to tell me where they are. Via a phone call, or a text at least.”

“Emily, you’re being dramatic-”

“I tried to call you,” she says, cutting Elizabeth off, “Dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer your fucking phone?”

If Elizabeth wants to reprimand her for her language she doesn’t, instead she sighs, shaking her head at what she clearly still thinks are dramatics from her daughter.

“You know what I’m like with my phone, and I thought we’d be here before you.”

Emily laughs bitterly, well aware of Aaron standing just behind her, “That’s not good enough.”

Elizabeth crosses her arms over her chest, defensive in a way Emily doesn’t think she deserves to be, “You’re acting like you don’t trust me with them.”

Emily scoffs, “That’s because I don’t,” she seethes through her teeth, keeping as quiet as she can despite her fury because she knows Jack and Violet are in the car and that no matter how loudly Jack played music on Aaron’s phone, they’d still be able to hear them, “I don’t trust you with them.”

Elizabeth visibly deflates, her arms dropping to her sides, and it only stokes the fire in Emily’s belly. Her mother’s surprise an accelerant to her anger, because the fact she was shocked, that she couldn’t think of one reason why Emily wouldn’t trust her, hurts more than she cares to admit even to herself.

Anger had always been easier than acknowledging how much power her mother still had over her even now.

“Emily-”

“Why would I trust you?” She cuts her mother off before she can say anything, not interested in hearing any of it, “I was taken from this house in the middle of the night when I was 16 years old,” she says, pointing at the place she had never quite been able to call home, “I woke up terrified to two men standing at the end of my bed and I thought ‘if I can get Mom’s attention this will be ok,’” she hates how her voice cracks, and she hears Aaron take another step closer to her, “But then I saw you standing at the door, watching it happen.”

It hangs between them for a moment, the weeks that neither of them had ever spoken about, and she watches as Elizabeth looks past her, her eyes clearly fixed on Aaron, before she looks back at Emily.

“That was for your own good,” Elizabeth replies carefully, “You were out of control.”

“I was a child. And don’t for one second pretend it was done for anything other than protecting your reputation.”

If those weeks in the woods had taught Emily anything, it was that she had made the right call not telling her mother that she was pregnant the year before. She knew that her ability to make her own choices would have been pulled out from under her and she would have been sent away. Forced to live in hiding under a shelter built by shame and her mother’s disappointment until she returned 9 months later without a baby, doomed to live as if nothing had happened.

She hoped that if, god forbid, something similar happened to Violet in the future she would come straight to her. That her daughter would know she was a safe space and always would be, and that she’d hold her hand through it all no matter what her decision would be.

“Emily,” Elizabeth says, as if speaking to a child, “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”

“Why?” She asks, “So the neighbours don’t hear? So no one else finds out you send your kid to a behavioural camp when all she wanted was for you to love her,” she says, purposely making her voice louder towards the end of the sentence. “I slept outside for weeks in a crappy tent full of holes and a sleeping bag that was probably older than I was,” she says, wiping a tear away furiously from her cheek, her knuckle rough against her skin, “We were barely allowed to eat. What did I do that deserved that?”

Elizabeth doesn’t flinch and Emily hates that she can’t tell if thats because she already knew or because she was just so good at never showing how she really felt. She wants to see a reaction across her mother’s face. She wants to see horror, or sadness or guilt. Anything other than the same expression that had always made her want to scream.

“You were drinking, partying, getting up to all sorts with who knows-”

“I was a teenage girl,” she says, chuckling humourlessly, “It doesn’t take being a profiler to know that all I wanted was your fucking attention,” she feels the fight drain from her and turns to look at Aaron, almost colliding with his chest he was so close now, “Let’s go home.”

“Emily, you can’t just walk away,” Elizabeth calls after her.

“Yes I can,” she replies, not even looking back, “I’m done.”

“You are not a child-”

“Do you want to know what I thought when I didn’t know where you and the kids were?” Emily asks sharply, turning to look at her mother and taking a step back towards her. She waits until Elizabeth nods, and she shakes her head, “I thought you’d taken them somewhere like that.”

This time, horror does sweep over Elizabeth’s face, and jealousy that makes Emily feel guilty swoops through her belly.

“Emily,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head, “I would never do that to them.”

She feels something snap inside of her, any control she had over her emotions is gone in an instant. Everything she’d thought ever since those long weeks in the Utah wilderness coming out as she shouts at her mother.

“Then why did you do it to me?”

Her words echo around them, the accusation wrapped up as a question rippling outwards in a way Emily isn’t sure will ever stop. She finally tears her gaze away from Elizabeth’s and briefly looks at Aaron before she walks away, the car door opening and shutting quickly.

Aaron looks up at his mother-in-law and has to remember every promise he has ever made to his wife to stop himself from saying something. He’d stayed silent throughout the argument, well aware that as much as he wanted to intervene Emily did not need him to protect her. She needed him to love her, to comfort her, and that is exactly what he intended to do.

He stares at Elizabeth, his eyes stern as he stands in place a beat too long before he turns in silence to walk the short distance to the car. When he climbs in Emily is just settling back into her seat after clipping Violet into her car seat in the back and the only sound is a song playing on his phone that was still in Jack’s hand. He starts the car, and drives away, the gate still open from when Elizabeth and the kids had arrived.

Emily reaches out for his hand and he takes it, squeezing her fingers together in a silent promise that everything would be ok.

___

It’s bedtime before they have a moment alone.

If he hadn’t known Emily as long as he had, or hadn’t seen her ability to keep up appearances so many times first-hand, he would have been taken aback at how normal she had acted all evening. The switch between baring her scars to her mother outside the house where it had all begun, to helping their kids with homework and bath time with a smile on her face when they could home, was almost jarring. She laughed with Jack as he tried to teach her how to play one of his video games, the little boy unaware that Emily was already very good at it, but acting as if she wasn’t for a moment of mother-son bonding. She paced back and forth in Violet’s bedroom, the toddler half asleep against her shoulder as she demanded another lullaby, her mother’s singing voice one of the few things that could get her to sleep ever since she was a newborn.

He’d always been impressed with his wife’s ability to compartmentalise, even back when she was just a member of his team, but tonight it made him sad. His awareness of where it came from, that it was one of the things she shared with her mother, the woman who had let her down so spectacularly, a kick to the gut.

They are both sat up in their bed, the door slightly ajar for when Violet inevitably joined them in the night, and their backs against the headboard before Emily says anything.

“I don’t…I don’t know how to fix this,” she says, her focus on her hands as she rubbed cream into them, something she insisted on doing every evening, “I don’t know if I want to fix this.”

He turns to look at her, his eyes lingering on her side profile, every bit as breathtaking as she was the day they met and more. She sometimes lamented getting older, her nose scrunched up as she looked at herself critically in the mirror. He thought, and made a point of telling her, that she had never looked more beautiful. Every change to her body, every laugh line on her face, a reminder of the life they shared together.

He wondered if she hated getting older, if she rubbed cream into her hands that supposedly slowed down ageing, because there was part of her that worried she’d turn into her mother. Something he knows simply isn’t possible.

“It’s not up to you,” he says, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear, smiling softly when she turns to look at him, “I think the ball is firmly in her court, sweetheart.”

She nods, humming softly before she leans into his side. She sighs as she wraps his arm around her shoulders, his comfort enveloping her in the way she needed it to.

“She’ll never apologise,” she muses, reaching out for one of his hands, half smiling when she doesn’t miss how he grimaces at the feel of her slippery skin but holds on to her anyway, “Even if she realises what she did was wrong she won’t…and I guess I have to find a way to be ok with that if I want to continue to have a relationship with her.”

He wants to tell her that they never have to speak to her mother again if she doesn’t want to, but he knows it won’t achieve anything tonight.

“Well,” he says, hooking his finger under her chin and making her look at him, “you don’t have to be ok with it tonight. Or even tomorrow,” he leans in and stamps a kiss against her lips, “Or the day after that.”

She chuckles softly, and kisses him once more before pulling away, “Or the day after that?”

“We can take this at whatever pace you want,” he assures her, “We’ll figure out what you want to do and go from there.”

She smiles at him, her eyes shining with tears she doesn’t want to shed and she rests her forehead against his for a moment, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, cupping the back of her head, “Now we should try and get some sleep, we’ll have a little monster in our bed in the early hours of the morning demanding your attention.”

She chuckles but lightly slaps his chest as they lay down, “Don’t call our daughter a little monster,” she says, and his only response is to pull her into his arms. She curls around his side, seeking out the warmth she would have once thought didn’t exist as she settles down, her head on his shoulder, “The kids love her.”

He sighs and runs his hand up and down her back, his fingers catching on the notches of her spine, “I know they do,” he says, kissing the top of her head, “And I know whatever you end up deciding will be the right thing.”

She scoffs, unsure how he could be so sure when she felt so adrift, his love for her the liferaft she was desperately clinging onto. “How do you know that?”

“Because you love them, and you’re the best mom on the planet,” he says, holding her impossibly closer when the praise makes her tense in his arms just like it always did, “You always put them first.”

She hides her smile into his t-shirt, her eyes closed as she tries to hold off tears. It’s all she’d ever wanted - to be the mother she had craved when she was a kid herself, and she liked to think that’s exactly what she was. She was the one both Jack and Violet sought out when they were sick or upset, just like their father did, and she was the one they both came to when they needed help. She hoped that would continue, that it would change from helping them with homework or opening up a new toy to helping with problems with friends at school and their first love and heartbreak. She always wanted to be the first person they called, that they’d know she would always be there ready and waiting.

“Let's get some sleep,” she whispers, already being lulled into relaxation by her husband’s hand dragging up and down her back as the exhaustion of the day finally takes over.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, his lips against the top of her head as she gets heavier against him.

“You too,” she mumbles, her words slurring together.

He’s still awake, keeping a vigil over Emily, her soft snores filling the room, when Violet sneaks in several hours later, her eyes bleary and her hair a mess as she drags her toy polar bear behind her. If the toddler realises he’s awake she doesn’t acknowledge him, instead walking around the bed and climbing onto it, crawling to her mother’s side. She’s barely laid a hand on her, her tiny fists grasping at her mother’s t-shirt when Emily stirs, turning to face Violet with her eyes half open.

“Hi Vi,” she mumbles as the little girl lays down next to her, curling up in her mother’s already waiting embrace.

“Mama,” the toddler mutters, already mostly asleep again now she was in Emily’s arms.

Aaron watches the whole thing with amusement as his wife starts snoring again and he's not sure she was ever fully awake. He settles onto his side and wraps his arms around the two of them, finally allowing himself to drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that whatever happened next, they’d all be ok because they had each other.

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction

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hutao-s · 4 years ago

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happier than ever

genre: lovers to exes, angst (?)

warnings: mentions of cheating, insults, jay is basically an as*hole in this.

wc: ± 700.

take inspiration from 'happier than ever' by billie eilish.

“what the hell was that, jongseong?”

you were on your way to jay’s apartment, you just had a heated argument with him last night on the phone and he decided that you would meet up to talk things out. it wasn’t the first time you had to deal with this, it had always been you did something wrong and your boyfriend pointed that out for you.

this time, just like the other times. you pressed the button that leads to the eleventh floor on the elevator and took out your phone while waiting. your notifications flooded, it was mostly texts from your group chat with your friends and calls from them, what was the matter?

from: jungwon.

| noona, have you checked jay’s hyung instagram story and his new tweet?

from: heeseung.

| [name], are you okay?

you started checking your boyfriend’s instagram story. jay posted a meme and captioned something related to you and you could realize that it was not anything good. and his tweet, you were standing right in front of his door when you saw the tweet. it was him and his ex together, and he called her “the person who understands him best.” you weren’t so sure if your upcoming conversation would solve things, because at that moment, you knew that you wanted to stop everything with him.

you clicked the doorbell and waited for him. jay greeted you with a nod when he saw you at his door with no hugs and no smile.

“i can’t believe you’re that type of person, jongseong.” you got straight into the problem, “i mean, i tried to convince myself that you’re not the type of person who badmouths their partner during each fight.”

“i don’t understand what you’re talking about.” he chuckled, gosh, you thought to yourself. how could you used to be in love with this person, that you tried to work things out millions times. “you’re being paranoid.”

he said you were being paranoid, and for the second time in this whole relationship, you had to raise your voice with him. “excuse me? i am what? park jongseong, don’t you dare cut my words.” you sighed, “if i’m being paranoid then what are you? you were jealous with me sitting next to my friend, and we’re not even sitting that close? we didn’t even talk to each other at that time yet you thought i was cheating on you.”

“[name]—”

“i said do not fucking cut my words, i am still talking.” you glared at him. “and if that story of yours isn’t about me then who told you that they need you to respect their personal space before we decided to talk face-to-face, who the hell did that, jongseong?”

“[name], i’m being really patient with you right now.” he tried to calm you down, but you chuckled, like what he did with you.

“patient? oh, please. i don’t need that. and when i wasn’t here, what did you do with your ex?”

“she's just a friend.”

“she’s just a friend, then how about my friend? you’re such a hypocrite with your double standard.” you pointed out, “you were being jealous just because i’m close to heeseung and jungwon, but we were hanging out with a bunch of other people, there are also girls! and you were alone with your ex, and you said she’s the one who knows you best. then what should i think? you want me to shut my mouth like all the other times that your friends were making jokes about you and your ex?”

“i’m sorry, babe.”

“yeah, you should apologise to me. and don’t call me babe. we are over.”

you blocked all of his contacts on social media and told your friends to not mention him when they’re talking to you. months after that, someone asked how have you been, especially when your ex got himself another girl.

you just answered them with a smile. “i’m happier than ever.”

a/n: hi, this is rei. this one-shot is based on a real story and i’m totally in the place to tell you that. my words might not be good but i hope you’ve enjoyed it! thank you for reading and merry christmas!

#enhypenwriters #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay angst #Spotify

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wdwmarveldisney · 4 years ago

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Hey again I have another isaac imagine again for the same situation as the last ones 😂 again I really appreciate u doing these they are really fantastic it brightens my day up when I see the notification honestly💕so it’s the start of 3b and instead of Allison it’s y/n who went underwater with Scott and stiles for that sacrifice thing and in season 2 maybe she got tortured by Gerard so she’s hallucinating him when she’s in school and stuff which makes her more defensive and gives her a shorter temper but also nervous and jittery and the scene where Allison almost shoots Lydia in the woods and isaac catches it they r just practicing and maybe in school y/n is hallucinating and runs into the woods and sees a arrow being shot and that like sets her off and sees Gerard and not Allison or Lydia and that’s when y/n throws the arrow back and that’s when the arrow nearly hits Lydia and isaac catches it (he’s followed y/n into the woods after seeing her freak out) and maybe the first few times she freaks out isaac helps her but maybe one times it’s really bad and someone else is there for her (Scott or even the twins) and isaac sees and it’s kinda when it registers in him that the two of them have actually broken up and he can’t always be there for her now since he broke up with her and maybe when it happen stiles says to him something about how him being there might do more harm than good since it hasn’t been that thing since he broke up with her and she’s still really hurt and seeing him will only make it worse (considering the relationship with stiles and isaac stiles would be brutally honest with him . Also he is a bit salty he hurt his best friend who’s like a sister to him)and the others times he helped her she was vulnerable and just needed anyone there for her so it also a cute friendship one with stiles and Scott or the twins whichever ones u choose that help her. Again I hope this makes sense sorry it’s so long ❤️

Can’t Be There For You

Isaac Lahey x reader

Summary: When you drown yourself in a bath of ice water to save your friends' parents and end up connecting with an ancient, supernatural tree, you'd probably expect it to screw with your brain.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay yes this took way too long and I’m so sorry about that. And honestly, I can’t stop smiling at the fact you said it brightens my day. It means a lot so thank you. Also not proofread so I apologise for all mistakes and there’s probably going to be quite a few.

GIF isn’t mine

Being on high alert all the time was not fun, especially when you're a werewolf. But when you drown yourself in a bath of ice water to save your friends' parents and end up connecting with an ancient, supernatural tree, you'd probably expect it to screw with your brain. It was screwing with your head too much, too many hallucinations and sounds that weren't there really making you feel crazy. You had told only Isaac at first before telling Scott and Stiles after a while. But you had found a few things that sometimes helped, one being a run. Running cleared your head and always ended being something you needed.

You were with Scott, Stiles and Isaac when this hallucination started up, Gerard standing at the desk with his arms crossed as he tortured you yet again. You screwed your eyes shut at first to block it out but it was too strong and too loud. Nobody noticed anything until your breathing became a little heavier and you accidentally snapped part of the chair you were sitting on. When you realised they realised, you quickly excused yourself with a small 'I gotta go,' and left without any word of acknowledgement to their worried calls. You drove out to the preserve, changing your shoes before putting some music on to try and block out the words and memories playing on repeat in your head. Each punch, each shot of electricity, each bullet and waterboarding was something you'd never forget and never wanted to happen to someone else ever. That feeling of the water passing through the cloth and the struggle to breath was often how you woke up now, clawing at your throat like it would help.

One earphone in and the other swaying around as you ran, you were a good five songs in before you heard it. There was a snap of twig from somewhere behind you and suddenly everything else shut out as you spun round and round to try and find the source. Swoosh. Leaning to the side, you grabbed at the arrow as your breath began to pick up and your heightened senses overloaded. Panic took control of your conscious mind and all you could see was Gerard standing there, crossbow in hand. Without any thought to it, you threw the arrow back perfectly and once you blinked, a gasp left you. It wasn't Gerard you had almost killed but instead a wide eyed Lydia, one of your closest friends, and it wasn't for Isaac, well you didn't want to think about that.

The blonde was quick to drop the arrow and rush to you, who had stumbled back into a tree behind you and slid to the ground as you tried to will yourself not to lose control again. But your claws still grew and your eyes glowed that bright gold. You could hear his voice echo in your head and you could see him crouching in front of you until you looked down to the gentle hand on your shoulder and then you finally saw who was in front of you and felt the relief flood over you as Isaac tried to calm you down. He offered you his hands, counting to ten with you as you squeezed each finger.

His smile was worried and scared and you hated yourself for doing that to him. Your head fell back against the bark as you held his hand to hopefully anchor you, "I'm fine," Isaac's splutters made you smile lightly before you lifted your head and looked towards Lydia just behind him, "I'm sorry I almost killed you," she gave a shrug, knowing what was up with you and knowing it wasn't something you meant to do. Once Isaac was sure you were okay, he lead you back to the cars after admitting he followed you and that was the last time he helped you with one of those before he broke up with you.

He didn't even know you carried on having them until he was looking Scott and found him, Stiles and Aiden standing around you with Ethan standing nervously at the side, trying to comfort you as you wiped at your eyes. You were sitting in the showers in the boys locker room, a technique he knew was Scott's doing. Isaac was about to offer his help when it finally hit him how little help that would be. You still hadn't started talking to him anymore than you had to and it killed him he couldn't be there for you anymore. You needed him and he bailed out. And of course Stiles Stilinski was there to remind him of that.

"Lahey, I think you should go. It's not a good time," before Isaac could even protest, saying that he knew that, Stiles carried on, "You being here isn't going to do her any good. Actually, it's probably going to send her into a werewolf frenzy again since she's only really just got control and then when she's beating your little werewolf ass in a fight, I'm going to be in her corner cheering her on," he gave an overly sweet smile as Isaac glanced between a heavily breathing you and an annoyed Stiles. "I know. I know, just, she has this calming technique where she squeezed your fingers to count to ten, okay? It helps a lot, she showed it to me. You just have to do it on repeat until she's calm,"

Seeing how serious Isaac was, Stiles gave a nod and watched the boy hesitantly leave before heading back and make sure Scott had listened in like usual and clearly he had because he already kneeled in front of you and was counting quietly with you as the gold faded. Aiden was by your side, arm around you since Stiles left to get rid of Isaac and the Stilinski boy already made his way back. He sat on your other side and let your head fall to his shoulder when you stopped counting. "You okay now?"

"I don't have any spare clothes and my socks are wet so no, not completely," you laughed with Scott and Stiles as the twins shared a relieved smile and your two best friends helped you up and towards some extra clothes you could borrow.

#teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #isaac lahey x werewolf!reader #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey

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qnfarc · 3 years ago

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Hello legend it's so late rn so if you have notifs on this is my apology note but let me know how the bookstore went today!! Or if you ended up seeing anything you liked / bought 👀 I had a little look at my reading list (it's my 10 year old ipads iBooks app full of downloaded pdfs. I update it like every 8 months from my folder of screenshots of anyone praising any book ever) and I have a few extra little recs if you ever find yourself stuck for something. I say that like we both probably don't have 100s of recs already but ignore that fact.

The most promising to me looked like "the elephant in the brain" which talks about hidden motives in everyday life (according to the synopsis 💀). I do enjoy a good insight on the mind now I will say big enjoyer. I've got some Carl Jung books in this list as well but I feel like I need to get back in the habit of reading before I start biting off those pieces. It's gonna take every brain cell in my head to pull together on it and I just don't have that capacity rn bye. Another sexy read looks to be "permenant record" by Edward Snowden who basically worked for some national intelligence company and a few years back leaked some fucked up tracing shit they were doing on consumers. Gotta love being reminded about my internet footprint, god I hate the thought. Might be practically common knowledge in that book at this point, not sure but it sounded promising! On a fiction note I'm like 2/3s in (on/off for the last literal year) "the babysitter" by Phoebe Morgan. I quite like it, it's weird to read something in first person but you get used to it quick enough. It's about a girl who was babysitting (we're all shocked) who got murdered on the job (now we're actually shocked) and basically following the case, but following one suspect more than others. I can't say if it's actually going to be predictable or not because I haven't got there (and at this rate I might never make it) but it's an easy read and an enjoyable one!

Bye I wish I had this knowledge in the morning for you this is so sad but I hope you picked up something good for yourself! I love the idea of getting a rec like this and going off and reading it's so sweet 😭😭😭 I wish I had more to offer you here and not just the vibes of books goodbye but hopefully something in these recs strikes your fancy. I know I said this earlier but literally flood with me with as many recs as you want, it might take genuine years but I'll read them no doubt 😼 I actually really need to cut down on my screentime these days (I hit 9 hours this week in one day 💀💀 and I don't want to know how, I'm blaming Spotify podcasts. I'm gonna find out it doesn't count time when the screens off and just genuinely scream) / expand my ever depreciating attention span once more, so reading sounds so sexy rn 😍 enjoy the upcoming weekend legend we got MCC day up and coming. I also hope the internship slaps so far, I'm so excited for you!! I'm wishing you the nicest coworkers, supervisor, manager, the chefs working the cafeteria, the whole team I hope they're lovely and make your time even more enjoyable!! I will catch up properly with you soon, I actually started responding to your ask from like two months ago today 😭 I'm really out here causing us the biggest time delay in conversations it's unbelievable, but I will chat to you soon legend!! Have a good day <33

Hello hello, no need to apologise, always happy to hear from you ^_^ I went very nicely, package was basically presents for my friends but I did end up finding and buying Almond! Walking around in bookstores is a trap for real tho, I had the urge to buy such a big stack of books and start reading immediately. Definitely took some photos of titles to look around online for them, buying from websites always will end up cheaper than in actual bookstore after all. Thanks to that gotta get reading vibe I got I finally got around to cleaning up somewhat and adding stuff to my reading list on storygraph account I made a long while ago and it ended up being 200+ positions and that's definitely not all of them even 😭 I'm such a book collector tbh I love having physical copies of books but I also always fear I'll end up not liking what I bought and waste money... Seeing photos of other people's bookshelves filled with manga or books always makes me want to spend so much money and have similar sized collection 😭 I'll add all your recs to my tbr and definitely read them at one point! I'm also big fun of psychology and mind insights! Similarly horror isn't really my thing but psychological thrillers? Yes 😍 I'm struggling with finishing Girl on the train for a year or two now... It's alright, just not a big fun of how much antagonising each other there is between female characters when chapters are from their povs like understandable but also tiring to read through in my experience. I also really like the idea of giving someone book, music or any other recs, it gives me quality time love language feel, wanting to include someone in something, it's very sweet! I definitely will end up giving you more recs especially cause it's summer so still more time to indulge yourself. Especially cause I often just get a little overwhelmed with how much different interesting media there is to consume, like books, anime & manga, tv shows, movies, games and so many sub genres to all of it, gives me "WOW creation!!!" feeling! I really need to cut down too, mostly yt but the moment I actually end up opening twt or tiktok it ends up such a big time consumer when I could get some nice reading in (I also end up reading fanfics from recs but still some actual books couldn't hurt 💀), definitely would appreciate longer attention span. I also spent longer than usual on genshin with new areas opened to explore for summer event, looks very nice and time really flies when you play 😔 There was MCC yesterday🧍🏻‍♀️...I completely forgot, literally remembered somewhere around midnight and checked twitter to see who won. Feeling conflicted cause on the one hand I always have my fingers crossed for George win but if he and his team ended up winning that one MCC when I forgot about it I would feel so annoyed 😐 Also heard there was some drama with noxcrew and dream and I try to be fair but when many players end up voicing displeasure over glitches in games or the way games are constructed than throwing it all as just biased complaining and hate is definitely not what I would expect from people who should care about feedback and enhancing the players and viewers experience, very immature move in my opinion especially with community that is so vast in people with a lot of knowledge about mechanics and creativity to resolve issues or propose ideas for modyfing games. And thank you, it pretty small team so everyone is understanding and nice, definitely enjoyable so far! After I read what was going on in your place, I'm so happy you had opportunity to get away from that quick, definitely more stressful environment than it should be! I also had opportunity to work remotely so I could go home for some time and finally have opportunity to go to hairdresser on Tuesday so maybe I'll fulfill my ideas of changing hair colour for a while, dark purple sounds kinda fun and cute 🤔 And no worries, take your time, it's always worth it to read your thoughts ^_^ Have a nice Sunday and week sunshine 💛

(also sorry if I answered twice, last answer didn't want to publish and I didn't save so I ended up having to type it out again, hopefully it'll work now)

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sugas-sweetheart · 4 years ago

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hi sofia!! i’m so excited for your halloween event hehe!! can i request kirishima for masquerade ball and “please tell me that was you!” maybe mutual pining? and a drabble pls!! thank you 🥺💖💖💖

Ruby Red || Kirishima Eijirou

A/N: YES THIS IS FROM HALLOWNEEN AND THIS ENDED UP BEING LIKE 1.8K WORDS WHAT IT WAS MEANT TO BE A DRABBLE- I apologise PROFUSELY at how long this took me though and bye its not even that good i just procrastinated hgdsjkfgj😭 thank you sm @deephasoceanmagic for helping me finish this djsjdskdj this got kinda hard to write after I had left it bc I lacked inspiration and here we are and I’m sorry its not the best work I’ve done asshdjsjdjs although the Denki and Sero thing is one of my favourite things my head has made up.

Requested prompts: 1. masquerade ball + 3. “please tell me that’s you!”

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!reader

The yearly UA Halloween party had arrived once again; it would be your final one at the school and to make it special the third years were allowed to organise it. One of the girls in 3A had brought up the idea of a masquerade ball to add to the mystery, which was instantly taken very well by the committee organising it.

The class didn’t exactly have dates, it was more of a “dance with whoever, whenever” agreement. Although, people in the class could clearly predict who was going to be dancing with who, and that included you and a certain fake, red head.

The months prior to Halloween rolled around quickly and the third years were allowed a day off from their usual lessons to relax and get ready. The 3A dorms had been split, the girls getting ready on the third floor, while the boys were kept downstairs.

Excitement bubbled in the whole class, the whole year even. It was a night for them to act like teenagers instead of soon-to-be pro heroes and that was greatly appreciated.

The chattering and squealing from the girls was almost never ending as they complimented and helped each other with makeup, hair and dresses. It was a joyous little bubble that they were in and nothing could break down their morale.

If the girls didn’t praise each other constantly when taking selfies or group photos on a normal day, then it was an eternal compliment battle when getting dressed up formally together. Mina broke the chatter with a question directed towards the whole room.

“So, who does everyone want to dance with?” Although she directed it at the whole room, she sent you a knowing glance and a shoulder nudge. The teasing you had received from a portion of your class this week was almost never ending, and each time you were bombarded with these inquiries, the spiky haired male sent you a small and unknowing smile from the other side of the classroom.

Meanwhile, the boys were attempting to look their best, and were holding a similar conversation with each other. But it was Halloween night, and that meant some sort of trickery needed to happen for them, and it was basically in the form of dying their hair as to not be recognisable with their normal styles and contact lenses. Most of them opted for a black spray to temporarily colour their locks for the night and match their dark shirts, suits and masks. (Bakugou, a little begrudgingly, let Kirishima and Kaminari colour his hair)

“Kiri, you ready to dance with her?” similar to what Mina did, Sero gave him a nudge and he received a wink from the tape and electric quirk holders who were busy spraying his hair back to its natural colour.

Bakugou took this moment to scoff and join in as he fixed his orange tie, “Took his sweet time to do something if he does.”

“You’ll twirl her, and dip her, and sweep her right off her feet” The comedic duo that were Hanta and Denki, threw their spray cans onto the bed next to them, joined hands and started re-enacting the scene they created.

“And end with a kiss!” Sero had dipped Kaminari and they leaned in making childish kissing noises before collapsing onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

Kirishima was brought out his thoughts with a blush across his features, even if his mask covered it, as he recalled antics from earlier. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, emitting a soft, warm light and candelabras flickered along the tables. Mini pumpkins and cobwebs were scattered across each table’s centrepiece, but the only thing on his mind was the small handwritten note addressed to him that he had found at his table seat.

“Meet me on the roof at 8:30, I hope to see you there x”

No one seemed to be looking at him and no one but Bakugou was near him, he had no idea who would have left it, but he hoped it was you. Taking a look at the clock he realised it was 8:15pm and well, there’s no harm in being early is there?

All of 3A’s eyes - bar one pair - discreetly followed him to the door that would allow him access up to the roof. The class gave each other a quick look before going back to chatting and joking.

Upon nearing the 3A girls table, you spotted a note next to your name card. The excitable pink haired girl next to you stepped forward, plucking the note from the table and read it with wide eyes under her sparkling mask.

“Oh my god, maybe it’s from him!” The excitement she felt for you was clear in her voice.

“What does it even say?” She immediately pushed the note in front of you in response to your question.

Messy handwriting had scrawled “meet me on the roof at 8:30, I hope to see you there x” along the card. Glancing at the clock you realised there were only five minutes until you were meant to meet this mystery person on the roof.

“So, are you going to meet them?”

“Mina, of course I am. If I die you’ll know where I last was”

As she dragged you towards the door, she claimed that you would be fine and that it was probably just some admirer.

The acid quirk holder observed you as you started making your way up the stairs. Giving the members of 3A knowing glances, she made her way back over to the group of girls you had originally split from.

A few meddling friends - aka Mina, Denki, Sero and an unwilling Bakugou - had organised the whole ordeal happening before you; this was obviously unknown by you and the boy awaiting on the rooftop.

Upon reaching the door that led outside, you paused to take a breath. You hoped Kirishima was waiting for you on the other side of the door. If it wasn’t him, then you’d just have to be polite as you didn’t really want to lead anyone on after this night.

On the other side of the door, Kirishima stood waiting and staring at the scenery around him. The rooftop was lit by fairy lights and the moonlight that shone down; a small table placed a few feet away held drinks, a speaker plugged into an iPod - that looked a lot like Jirou’s - that played music softly. A small vibration from his back pocket brought him from his thoughts and he went to check the phone notification. It was a simple text from Mina that stated “Ask her to dance when she comes up”. It was then, that he knew his friends had something to do with this whole setup and an admirer did not in fact ask him to come up themselves.

A heavy click pulled his gaze away from the phone screen and over to the door that was opening a few metres away. His view was flooded with red material as a second click followed, signifying the door had closed and it was now time for him to speak and not make a fool of himself.

“Uh, would you like to dance with me?” stammered the boy before you.

Luckily for Kiri, his mask covered the rouge that was coming to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck in anticipation of a response. A light nod was given from you in return, stepping forward to grab his other hand, which was outstretched for you. While the secrets were intriguing, the poor attempt to hide his identity and your need to find out if he was truly behind the mask was overpowering, and before you knew it, you had blurted out a statement that would have saddened the boy in front of you had your deduction not been correct.

“Kirishima, please tell me that’s you”

He let go of your hand to slowly peel off his dark mask and reveal a flushed, but hopeful, face at the thought of you wanting it to be him.

“I guess the disguise didn't do much then?” he looked down towards his mask as he spoke, avoiding eye contact with you now that his face was exposed. You pulled away your own mask before speaking up again.

“Not really, but a hair colour change can only do so much when you have ruby red eyes”

He gave a soft chuckle at the defining feature that you had pointed out and his confidence increased with the knowledge of it being you that was forced up here by his friends.

As a slower, steady song played from the speaker he outstretched his hand once again to ask for a dance and this time wasn’t interrupted by an inquiry from you. Taking his hand and placing your other on his shoulder, he moved his other hand to rest on your back and you both tried to find your way dancing together for the first time.

The next hour was mostly elegant, apart from the toes that were stepped on when dancing, and filled with laughter at small jokes told to ease the initial awkwardness of being set up. He was easy to speak to, he was gentle and caring, and as the night continued you ended up sitting together, staring at the luminescent specks that were scattered throughout the sky.

Halloween was coming to a close and the moments you shared that night would be cherished for a long while. Being the gentleman that Eijirou was, he offered to walk you back to your dorm room, despite his being a level below yours. You sneaked down and out together before everyone started leaving to avoid the hustle and bustle of it all. With your right arm hooked in his left, a small, tired smile was plastered across your face the whole walk back and while you were sad about the night ending, this sparked the relationship you would hopefully soon share with the red head.

As your door came into view, the both of you slowed your steps. There was a slight awkward tone in the air, were you to just say goodbye and leave? Should you kiss? Was he going to say something?

The few seconds of silence that felt like hours was broken when the both of you opened your mouths to speak and promptly shut them with a laugh to let the other go first.

He looked at you expectedly, waiting for you to speak first.

“Well, thanks to our friends, this night was a lot better than I anticipated so thank you.” a shark tooth filled smile gleamed with glittering eyes, because he was filled with joy at the thought of you enjoying the night with him.

“I really enjoyed my night with you, so i'm glad you think the same! I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Mhm!” and in those final seconds looking into his eyes, your mind had made a decision. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before pushing the door open and once inside leaning your back against it, just knowing the heat that was rushing to your cheeks.

Kirishima stood stunned and wide eyed outside of your closed door for a few moments and softly touched the spot on his cheek that you had kissed. Upon hearing footsteps and chatter from fellow classmates, he decided to make his way back to his own room where he slept well with thoughts of what he would say to you tomorrow.

Taglist (open): @justamultifandomfan16 @shoutamajiki @meliorist-midoriya @goopyartiste @yee-harr @bizzoldmann-08 @katsushimaa @hannahalanib1 @boosyboo9206 @derpeedoo @mystic-helena @spookykiri @vhskenma

#bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #kirishima eijiro imagine #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #boku no hero imagines #kirishima #mha kirishima #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #mha x you

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding High

Ch18: Sugar

Chapter Summary: It’s July, and Fliss’ birthday…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.!!!

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, so I know you’ve all been on edge since He-who-shall-not-be-named was released on parole and I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint. We’ll be gearing up for a bit of a rough time over the next few chapters for Friss so buckle up…

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

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 17

July 2018

“So now what?” Mary looked at Fliss as the two of them sat side by side at the table, both looking at the laptop in front of them.

“See these spaces here…” Fliss said, pointing to two empty squares dotted in the unpublished Internet Page and then to the larger space at the top “Now we need to add the photos…”

They were working on a project of sorts for Sandybrook’s website. They’d decided to give Monty his own little weekly blog for the summer called “The Life of Monty” which Mary had eagerly said she wanted to write, something for her to do over the break. “Ooh, ok!” Mary nodded “I already know which ones I want to use!” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at her.

“I want that one that has me, you and Monty in…you know the one that Frank likes where we are both laughing.” Fliss smiled “Ok, we can use that one.” “And then the other one is the one where Monty had the Party Hat on because it was his birthday.” “Good choice.” Fliss smiled “And what about the one across the top.” “The one of him in the pasture.” Mary said after a moment “Where he is looking up and pulling the funny face, you know with all his teeth out?”

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it looks like he is smiling.” Mary nodded eagerly “Yup.” With a move of the mouse, Fliss set to work selecting the photos, ensuring that they were positioned and sized right for the frames. She couldn’t help but smile at the one of her and Mary. Mary was looking at the camera, laughing a lot whilst Fliss was, in turn, watching her and laughing too. Frank had been trying to take the photo of the 2 of them but Bill had been stood behind him, pulling stupid faces which had reduced Mary to tears, and her giggles had then set Fliss off. Frank said he adored the photo, that much in-fact it was now the screen-saver on his phone.

Fliss clicked save and then looked at Mary. “Wanna give it a final read over, check if you want to add anything else?”

Mary nodded.

“Ok, you do that I’m gonna start dinner.” “What are we having?” Mary looked at her.

“Carbonara. That ok?”

Mary grinned her approval as Fliss stood up, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Frank came home and greeted Mary before he headed into the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms round Fliss from behind, dropping a kiss to her neck.

“Good day?” he asked and she hmmed in agreement.

“Not bad…are you filthy, as usual?”

He chuckled as he let her go and moved to the fridge. She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him as he reached in for the water jug. He was, as always, covered in grime from his work and Fliss bit her lip. There was definitely something about seeing him in his dirty work jeans and grubby T-shirts that got her blood pumping.

“Stop it.” he said, giving her a look, knowing full well what she was thinking. She shrugged and with a grin turned back to the food.

“Oh, erm, wanted to check…are you if we use photos of Mary for her blog on the website?” Fliss asked, turning back to him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” “It’s a public sight.” Fliss shrugged “Just wanted to check that’s all.” “It’s fine.” Frank said, placing a kiss to her cheek “I think it’s a really good idea anyway, give her something to do and practice her writing. Like Bonnie said, she’s sharp on the numbers but could do with honing up her English a little bit. She’s too logical, this should give her something to be creative with and keep her occupied over the break.”

And you…he refrained from adding. In the week following the notification that parole had been granted, John had been released. And this had set Fliss on edge. One night after she had snapped at Frank, causing a full scale argument over the fact he had bought the wrong type of salad dressing, she’d broken down and confessed that she wasn’t sleeping properly and this was causing stupid things, like Ranch v French dressing, to tip her over the edge.

The day after her spectacular salad dressing related melt down, Greg, who had already requested details of the terms of his release, came over and the 3 of them gone through, in detail what it meant realistically for Fliss.

“Basically it’s as good as you could hope for.” Greg explained “He is forbidden from contacting you or any of your family in any way, via any means. He is State-bound to Massachusetts, specifically the Boston area. He’s tagged, and on a curfew between the hours of 7pm and 7am. And moreover the authorities here are following the UK’s lead as well and trialling these new GPS tracking tags, which they’ve deemed him eligible for. So at any time, any place, they’ll be able to lock onto his whereabouts…”

“So if he does breach his conditions…” Fliss started and Greg nodded “They’ll be on him like a shot.” he said, with a gentle smile “Look, I know this is shit…but you really do have nothing to worry about. One breach and he’s back inside. And when he reaches the end of his parole, we’ll file for an injunction with the same conditions. Keep him away from you.”

Since the conversation with Greg, Fliss had calmed down somewhat but still, in week following her confession she didn’t spend a night away from Frank, seemingly coping better with the fact that she was around him, and even when he wasn’t there, the fact she was in his apartment gave her some safety and comfort.

So he’d asked her to move in permanently 3 days ago. Which he was still waiting for an answer on.

“What you thinking?” her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Honestly?”

“Always.” she nodded.

“When you’re gonna give me an answer to that question I asked you a few days back.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor before she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face.

“Are you sure you want me here, full time, and you’re not just asking because-“

“Lissy…” he cut her off, shaking his head “I’d have asked you move in here the day I did if I’d thought you’d have said yes. I’d love you to come live with us. And I know Mary would too…” “Ok, that’s blackmail.” she narrowed his eyes at the fact he’d dropped Mary into the equation and he grinned. “Is it working?”

She bit her lip and nodded “Yeah, ok, I’d love to…” “Yeah?” he said, a huge smile spreading across his face, warmth flooding his chest.

“Yeah…” she nodded, and grinned as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross…” Mary mumbled as she walked past the pair of them to the fridge, retrieving a juice box. . Frank broke away to look at her as she stabbed the straw into the hole at the top.

“Better get over it Stack.” he smirked. “Fliss just agreed to come live with us.” “Really?” her eyes widened and she grinned as Fliss nodded. Mary moved over to the pair of them and wrapped her arms around them both, Frank’s hand falling to the back of her head as she looked up at him. “Does that mean I don’t need to eat any more of your cooking, like ever again?”

Frank rolled his eyes and glanced at Fliss who was chuckling slightly “Trust me Mary…” she said, grinning “I’ve no intention of eating his cooking either.”

***** Of course Verity and Bill were over the moon when Fliss told them she was moving into Frank’s, and the next week or so they all spent doing various runs with the things she decided she needed to take. Everything else she would be leaving in the annex to either throw or store at a later date.

Considering the amount of time they spent together, it wasn’t a huge change for them, it just meant that the comfortable routine they adopted when they were together became a daily one, and it suited the pair of them just fine. Frank also surprised Fliss by getting her a vanity unit which she had made a passing comment about, making space for it in their room.

After 3 weeks it had become the new normal for them. They shared chores, shared Activity Club runs, grocery shopping, bills…Frank had tried to object to that one but Fliss had put her foot down insisting that if she was living there she was paying her way so he’d caved in the end and agreed. Fliss felt happy, safe, secure, loved...and Frank was over the moon simply knowing he had her to come home to every night.

One particular evening, a few days before her Birthday they were due to meet Evelyn for dinner as she was in town again to visit Mary, but Fliss was running ridiculously late, and as a consequence was in a total flap

“Fuck, fuck…” she groaned, jumping out of the jeep and calling Thor to her. “Come on buddy…”

She hurried across the lawns and threw the door to the apartment open, Thor shooting in before her.

“I’m so sorry I’m late…” she instantly began apologising as she walked into the living area and groaned loudly “The last lesson overran and then one of the waterers broke in the livery barn, flooded Horatio’s stable…” “It’s ok, calm down…” Frank chuckled, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “How did it break?”

“He’s been scratching his arse on it.” she said, rubbing at her temple “He broke it off the wall. We turned the supply off but I had to sort his bed before I left, then call his owner to tell her…” she groaned “Fucking nightmare.” “Want me to take a look at it?”

Fliss shook her head “Dad’s gonna do it tomorrow, keep him busy. He always moans at me for asking you and not…” she trailed off as she spotted Evelyn who was sat on one of the chairs in the living room. “Oh, Evelyn…hi. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming here…I thought…”

“We were…” Frank explained “But Mary wasn’t feeling too good so I suggested to Mother she come here instead.” “Oh, no, is she ok?” Fliss asked.

“Too much sun I think, she’s been running around at the Activities Camp all day and hardly drunk anything, despite the lecture you gave her. She’s had some water and gone for a nap. She’ll be fine when it’s time for dinner.”

“I thought seeing as we can’t go out I’d treat you to take out.” Evelyn spoke, standing up. Fliss eyed her for a moment before she shrugged.

“I can make something.” she offered, and Frank shook his head. “No, Lissy…” “I can do chicken with that pear and blue cheese salad you and Mary liked.” Fliss said, “Surely that’s gonna be better for her than a take out if she’s feeling shitty?”

Frank looked at her and then to his mother “That ok with you?” “Sure, that sounds good.” Evelyn nodded “but only if it’s no trouble.” “It’s fine.” Fliss nodded “Let me go take a shower and then I’ll get started ok?” Frank nodded and dropped a kiss to her cheek before she headed off to the bathroom. Thor made his way into the living room and took his usual place on the rug, flopping down as he looked up at Evelyn as she followed Frank over to the kitchen area. He pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and held it up.

“Sancerre?” Evelyn arched an eyebrow. “And a pretty good one too…” “Fliss’ choice, not mine. I assume that means you’d like a glass.” “I don’t want to put you out Frank.” she said, and he shook his head.

“You’re here now so…” he said “Oh, we normally eat outside but I’m not sure if Mary’s-”

“What, in open view of everyone?” Evelyn asked, horrified “It’s hardly-“ She stopped dead as Frank shot her a look, and held her hands up. “Point taken…”

Frank poured her a glass then got a beer for himself and leaned back against the counter as his Mother nodded appreciatively at the wine.

“So, pear and blue cheese…” she said and Frank looked at her “You hated cheese as a child.” “Well, I like it now.” he shrugged “And Mary loves that salad so…” “It’s not a dish I would normally associate with a child to be honest.” Evelyn mused.

“Well, I think we can both agree Mary isn’t a particularly standard child so…”

At that point Fred sauntered into the kitchen, straight to his food bowl. Evelyn eyed him, before she turned to Frank and smiled “I already took a Benadryl…” He snorted and a few seconds later Mary appeared.

“Hi Grandmother. Fliss said you were here.” “You feeling ok?” Frank asked as she walked over to him. He swung her up and she rest her head on his shoulder, nodding. “Want some more water?” “Fliss told me to ask for the elec…erm…the electo-” “Electrolytes” he said, nodding. “Not a bad shout…”

He set her on the counter and then reached into the cabinet to the right of the sink where they kept the medical supplies and pulled a sachet from the box. Grabbing a glass he pulled the Filter jug out of the fridge and made her the drink before he handed it to her. “Take it slow ok?” She nodded and took it from him with a thanks, sipping at it carefully, pulling a face. “What flavour is that?” “It says orange.” he answered, looking at the packet.

“Well it’s wrong. That’s disgusting.” “It’s good for you, so stop complaining.” Frank tossed the empty sachet into the trash.

To his surprise he heard his mother chuckling and he turned to look at her. “I remember giving you something similar when you came home with sunstroke from playing Baseball all afternoon. You spat it out and told me you’d rather die than drink it.” Frank gave a huff and then turned to Mary who was grinning ear to ear “Don’t even think about it.” he pointed at her.

She shrugged and then took another mouthful, grimacing as she drank. “Please can I get down?” Frank obliged and watched as she headed off to the sofa, Thor jumping up besides her, settling his head in her lap.

“Go and talk to her.” Frank looked at his mother “That’s why you’re here, to spend time with her. Not me.”

Evelyn nodded, and for a moment Frank thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the woman’s eyes, but as quick as it had flashed across her face it was gone and she turned and made her way into the sofa. Frank leaned on the edge of the archway which led into the living area and watched as she sat down in the chair she had occupied previously before he heard the door to the bathroom open again, signalling Fliss was out of the shower. He moved to start taking the different things they needed to make dinner out of the fridge and turned on the oven before he seasoned the chicken breasts just as she had shown him with salt, pepper, chilli and a squeeze of lime. He dropped it onto a tray, placed it in the oven and was washing his hands when Fliss walked dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a fading Guns N Roses tank top. She was barefoot and her damp hair was piled up on her head in a haphazard bun. This was Frank’s favourite way to see her. Completely relaxed and at home.

“Chicken’s in.” he said as he turned to the fridge and then poured her a glass of wine.

“Thank you.” she smiled, taking a sip.

“Can I show Evelyn around?” Mary asked, and Frank turned to her.

“Finished your drink?” “Yeah.” “Ok then yes, of course you can.” She stood up and Evelyn followed, giving the pair of them a smile as she passed by the kitchen area of the open plan living space

“Oh, Felicity.” “Fliss, please.” Fliss nodded to her as she turned back to what she was doing.

“Fliss, sorry, but could I be awkward?” Evelyn asked.

“No doubt you can.” Fliss mumbled between gritted teeth and Frank smirked to himself before she tuned to look at Evelyn.

“Could I ask for my salad dressing on the side?”

“That’s fine.” Fliss nodded “I’ll make you a separate bowl.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Evelyn smiled before she headed out after Mary.

“If she doesn’t eat this, then she’s gonna be wearing it.” Fliss looked at Frank who let out a laugh as he chopped up the slices of cucumber.

“Now that I would pay to see.” “I’ll do it for free.” Fliss narrowed her eyes.

Frank chuckled again as they continued to make their food. After about 10 minutes or so, just as they were dropping the salad bowls onto the table, Evelyn and Mary re-appeared.

“You’ve made a nice home, certainly considering the area anyway.” Evelyn said, as Frank invited her to sit at the table before he headed back to grab the bottle of wine, a beer for himself and more water for Mary.

Fliss rolled her eyes” The area is fine, and Frank did it all, not me. Well, him and my dad. I only moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, he does speak very highly of your parents.” “Well they love him.” Fliss shrugged “But then again what’s not to love.”

Evelyn looked at Fliss for a moment as Frank made his way back to the table, and they all settled down and began to eat. As she had been at Mary’s birthday, his mother was polite, nodding appreciatively at the food, joining in the conversation and she sat with Mary once they’d finished so Mary could show he the latest installation of Monty’s blog. After another bottle of wine and a few more beers, Frank realised it was getting quite late and then told Mary she needed to be getting ready for bed. Evelyn took this as her queue to call for her driver, which Frank was pleased about as it saved him having to ask her to leave.

Mary headed for a shower and the three adults made small talk until she reappeared in her pyjamas just as Evelyn’s driver called to announce his arrival. She bid Mary goodnight and then Frank made to walk her down to her car when the woman surprised him and looked at Fliss.

“Could you…I’d like to speak to you.” Fliss looked at Frank before she shrugged “Yeah, sure…” Frank frowned, but didn’t object. He looked at his mother and nodded “Let me know when you want to see her again.”

“I was actually wondering if she could come to Boston for a few days.” Evelyn said and Frank took a deep breath. “Obviously, when it’s convenient.” “Maybe.” He nodded “Goodbye Evelyn.” “Yes, I’ll call you.” she nodded and then the two women headed out of the apartment. Fliss stuck her hands in her pockets as they walked.

“I’m glad he took my advice.” Evelyn broke the silence “Regarding you, I mean…”

“Yeah he told me what you said to him.” Fliss gave a snort “Gotta say I was surprised after I’d unleashed quite a nasty verbal tirade on you…” “Well I think all things considered at the time I deserved it.” Evelyn shrugged “And I’m not surprised you hate me so-“

“I don’t hate you Evelyn.” Fliss cut her off, shaking her head “I hate what you did to Frank and Mary, and honestly? I still don’t understand it.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing.” “But how?” Fliss pressed “How was tearing a girl away from the only father figure she has ever known, the man that has cared for her and loved her since she was six months old the right thing?”

Evelyn shook her head “I know Frank and I made an assumption-” “No, you knew Frank.” Fliss looked at her, “It was, what? Almost 8 years since you saw him last when you turned up…and how long was it before he left Boston since you actually had a conversation with him? I just…” Fliss trailed off and looked down at her feet before she glanced back at Frank’s mother “it baffles me how someone can be so callous towards their own child, that’s all.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn stopped and looked at her “What do you want me to say?” “An apology might not go amiss…” “I did that with his birthday card, paying the fees…” “Money doesn’t make it ok Evelyn.” Fliss sighed, “And a card isn’t the same as saying it to his face…” she scratched at her head “If you want to try and salvage something from this mess, have some form of relationship with your son…” “What makes you think-“ “Because I saw you this evening, at various points, watching him…you might be able to keep your face straight but the eyes don’t lie” Fliss said gently. Evelyn looked down at the ground as Fliss continued. “I suggest you start with a verbal apology, a very open and honest discussion, because that’s when you get the best out of Frank. On a face-to-face level, when he isn’t being lied or talked down to”

“You really do know him exceptionally well don’t you?” Evelyn smiled.

“Well, we’ve had enough of our own discussions recently with everything that’s been going on so…” “Right, your ex-husband.” “How do you-“ Fliss sighed, “Mary?” “No, actually, she never said a word. I looked you up.”

“Course you did.” Fliss groaned.

“I was curious about your family.” Evelyn shrugged “You have quite the back story.” “Yeah well, its history.” she said “And long may it stay that way.”

“Well I hope for all your sakes it does.” Evelyn shook her head “Nothing I can’t stand less than a man that deems it acceptable to do that. Lord knows I pushed Preston the extremes at times but he never once raised a hand to me…or his voice now that I think about it. He preferred to argue on a cerebral level...”

“Very like Frank.” Fliss smiled.

“Yes, the two are exceptionally similar.” Evelyn said as they reached the car. “Thank you for dinner Fliss, it was a very enjoyable evening.” Fliss smiled and then as Evelyn opened the car door the woman turned back to her “Just think about what I said Evelyn. You can’t turn the clock back but it’s how you go forward from here that matters.”

Evelyn nodded, and with that she climbed in the car and shut the door. Fliss watched them drive off before she turned and headed back towards the apartment. “You ok?” Frank asked, turning to look over the back of the sofa as she walked into the living area.

“Yeah, fine.” Fliss smiled. “Mary in bed?”

“She’s reading” Frank nodded “Told her you’d pop in and say goodnight.” Fliss yawned as she slid her arms round his shoulders from behind “I’ll go now, then I think I’ll get in bed myself. I’m whacked.” Frank smiled and turned his head to give her a kiss “I’m just gonna finish watching this and then I’ll be with you.” “What is it?” Fliss asked, turning her attention to the TV.

“A documentary on whales, funnily enough. You’d enjoy it…” “You’re such an old man” she teased and he scoffed.

“Not what you were saying last night.”

Fliss laughed “Well you keep yourself in good shape, what can I say.” With that she kissed his cheek and headed down the hall.

After bidding goodnight to Mary and Thor, who seemed very happy to remain in Mary’s room with Fred, she changed for bed and slipped into the sheets, stretching out before she got herself comfortable. She was dozing, drifting in and out of a light sleep when she felt Frank climb into bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

“Finish whale watching?” she asked as he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

“Yeah.” he said gently. “So you gonna tell me what my mother wanted?” “Nothing much…” Fliss turned in his arms so she was facing him. “She was actually quite contrite.”

“Course she was…” “No, I mean it, I think she’s genuinely sorry.” Her hand gently traced shapes on his bicep “Maybe you should give her a chance to apologise properly.”

“That must have been one hell of a talk.” Frank snorted “You were all for dumping salad on her head before!”

“We had a very honest discussion, I got a few things off my chest.” Fliss shrugged “And, well, like it or not she’s still your mum Frank.” “No, she’s my mother.” he corrected her “Your mom is a mom.”

“Was your dad a dad or a father?” “He was a dad.” Frank said, “Most definitely.”

“Do you remember much about him?” she asked.

“Little bits.” Frank’s hand tucked her hair behind her ear. “Mostly about stuff we did. Baseball, football, when he taught me how to ride a bike. All the fun stuff you do with kids really.” he took a deep breath.

“What did he do?” “He was a Surgeon” Frank said “Neurology.” “Really?” Fliss looked up at Frank as he nodded “Well that’s pretty cool!”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. I sometimes wonder if I idolise him a bit more because he’s dead you know but…” “Have you ever asked your mother what he was like? You know, since he died?” “Once or twice.” Frank replied “For all of Evelyn’s faults she did love Dad. She gave up her own career and research partnership she had with Cambridge in London to move to Boston when she met him. Then they had me. I think she resented me a little bit at first because me and dad were so close, and then when Diane came along that was it, Daddy’s girl...”

“No longer his main woman.” Fliss smiled.

“Something like that. You know, I do wonder at times why on Earth she had us.” Frank snorted “if we were such inconveniences…” “It can’t all have been bad.” “Well we wanted for nothing. In fact, we were both very spoilt. And yeah, we had Birthday parties, fun, vacations, trips…but when dad died…I dunno, it kinda went to rat-shit.” “It must have been hard for Evelyn you know, losing him when you were both so young.”

“Yeah.” Frank sighed “I’ve no doubt it was. I remember the police coming round and breaking the news about the accident…only time I’ve ever seen her break down.”

“You know before, she said that you remind her of your dad.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah she’s told me the same, last time I saw her in fact. Probably why she doesn’t particularly enjoy being around me that much.” “I think she enjoys it a lot more than she lets on.” Fliss shrugged “And besides, I enjoy being around you. And so do my parents…so…”

Frank gave her a soft smile before she leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I know…” he said, as she snuggled into his chest “And that’s all I care about.” ******

Friday rolled around and with it came Fliss’ birthday. Frank was pretty sure Mary was more excited than Fliss to give her the gifts they had bought, and with good reason. Fliss beamed as she opened her various packages from them both, which included a bottle of her favourite perfume, a pale blue and white striped sleeveless button down which Frank had thought was quite nautical so very apt and a box of British chocolate. Bonnie had also stopped round the night before to give her a bottle of her favourite gin and a huge bag of sweets which she declared she was hiding from Frank as she didn’t trust him not to eat them.

Frank then handed her the envelope with her main present in and she opened it, her mouth dropping open as she looked at the Broadway Tickets.

“Lion King?” she said, looking up at him. “We’re going to see the Lion King?” He nodded, smiling “I know you wanted to go so…” “Oh my God…thank you!” she practically squealed throwing her arms round his neck, kissing his cheek.

“You’re welcome.” he smiled, winking at Mary over his shoulder. She gave him the thumbs up. Fliss turned back to look at the pile of presents arranged on the coffee table before Mary handed her another smaller wrapped one.

“This is from me…and Fred…and Thor.” she added and Fliss smiled, unwrapping the small black box. She opened it, and a small card fell out which she picked up and read out loud.

“We hope you enjoy your “Precious Paws” hand-made resin beads…” she trailed off, and glanced down at the charms in more detail. One was green speckled with gold and the other was blue speckled with silver.

“The green one has some of Heidi’s tail hair in it…” Mary pointed as Fliss gently took it from the box to examine it in more detail, clearly seeing where the hair was wound through the resin of the bead “And the Blue one has Thor’s in.”

“I…” Fliss felt herself choke up “Mary these are beautiful, where did you…” “Joanne told me about them.” Mary said, and Frank smiled at her “And then Frank helped me order them…” “They’re not officially Pandora but the woman said when we emailed her they’d fit the standard bracelet.” He said as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining.

“Thank you both, so much…” she turned to Mary and wrapped her up in a hug before she did the same to Frank, giving him a soft kiss “Love you.” “Happy birthday Sweetheart.” he smiled, hugging her again.

As Fliss had booked the day off, so had Frank so the three of them along with Thor and Fred spent the afternoon after visiting Fliss’ mum and dad on one of the boats belonging to Paul, the owner of the shop Frank worked in. Frank had deliberately chosen one of the smaller ones so they could access the small stretch of sand just off St Pete’s beach that they all loved. It was quieter than the main beach as it wasn’t reachable unless you waded or sailed over and they spent the afternoon on the beach with a few beers and a picnic, before they headed home. Mary crashed out on the way back, her head lolling on Fliss’s lap as she sat at the front of the boat, her bare feet resting on the bar in front of her, simply watching the dolphins. Thor was barking at them like mad, wagging his tail and then suddenly he shot to the bow of the boat, placing both his paws up on the metal, threatening to throw himself overboard. Frank’s hand shot out to grab his collar.

“Dumbass…” he yanked him back, and turned to Fliss “Does this mutt have a brain in his head?”

“Don’t’ talk about my baby like that…” she narrowed her eyes at Frank as she covered Thor’s ears with her hands as he sat by her feet, tail thumping on the floor. “Fred does his share of stupid shit too, like getting his head stuck in cereal boxes.”

Frank rolled his eyes “At least Fred knows not to jump in the ocean.”

“That’s because he has no sense of adventure.” Fliss shot back, causing Frank to snort. Standing up, Fliss gently moved Mary, so that she was led flat down before she stretched and moved next to Frank who tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Had a good day?” he asked and she grinned, nodding.

“The best.” she smiled “I love it when you bring me out sailing.” “I’m driving.” he turned to face her, grinning. “You’re sailing.”

“Whatever” he mumbled as his lips pressed to hers. She snaked her arms around his neck as his slid round her back, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her deeply his tongue sliding against hers.

“You can unwrap your last present when we get home…” he said, grinning like a school boy as he rest his forehead head against hers.

“Yeah?” she asked, arching an eyebrow

“I’d let you unwrap it now but…” he nodded to Mary and she snorted.

“You know we’ve not actually done that.” she mused. “Sex on a boat I mean…” Frank let out a laugh “You harbouring a bit of a sailing kink?” “More of a sailor kink” she shot back and he shook his head, giving her another quick kiss before he turned his attention back to the boat as he guided it back into the Marina.

He made good on his promise once they got back, loved on his girl. Once in the shower and then again later on when he woke up as Fliss had done the same to use the bathroom. Frank knew he would never get tired of hearing the soft cries of his names and the various encouragements she gave him when she begged him not to stop or told him how good he was making her feel. As he tumbled right over that edge, behind her 3rd, or was it 4th orgasm, he’d lost count, his fingers tightened slightly on her hips as his head tipped back in ecstasy. He lay still, panting as she collapsed onto his chest, his hands stroking up and down her spine as she lifted her head, grinning as she caught his lips in a soft kiss before falling down onto the mattress next to him. She looked at him, her eyes flashing in the soft light that was sneaking into the room through the crack in the curtains, a look of pure love on her face, as if he had hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and it was enough to choke him up slightly. He still wasn’t sure he was worthy of her unadulterated adoration, but damned it, he’d try constantly to be the best version of himself if it kept her by his side.

He didn’t wake the next morning when Fliss’ alarm went off. Instead he woke to a gentle kiss to his cheek and as he roused himself the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit his senses. Blinking he smiled softly as Fliss placed a mug on his night stand.

“What time is it?” Frank asked.

“Just gone seven. I’ve got an early appointment with the Ariat rep at the stables, remember?” “Oh, yeah…” he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“You told me to wake you before I left.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I did that…” he moaned and she chuckled.

“You gonna bring Mary up later?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave he with you for the afternoon if that’s ok? Need to clean the boat and get it back.” “Course it is.” she smiled. With that she bent over to kiss him again and in a shot Frank’s arms were round her waist and she was flat on her back on the bed, laughing as he caged her with his arms.

“Frank…” she whined, as he kissed her softly “I can’t, I’m gonna be late as it is…” “One more kiss, come one…” he pleaded, and she relented as he pressed his lips to hers before she eventually pulled away and shoved on his chest. With a pout he moved allowing her to stand and she shook her head at him.

“You’ll be the death of me Frank Adler.” she said, straightening her top and he eyed her figure up as she did so and gave a shrug.

“What a way to go…” he smirked and with that she reached down, grabbed one of the various scatter cushions that lived on the bed during the day, and smacked him straight on the face with it.

He and Mary shared a lazy morning before they both dressed and headed out going via the bakery at the end of the high street to pick up a coffee and some Danishes for a late breakfast for Fliss as he knew she’d have left without eating any, she always did when she was out earlier than them. As he pulled up, Mary was out of the truck before he had stopped, something which he was fed up of telling her off for.

Frank walked into Fliss’ office where he placed the bag of food on the desk, along with the cardboard carrier which contained their coffee and gave her cheek a kiss. Mary shot into the tack room, grabbed her little box of brushes and shot off to go and see Monty.

“Bye then…” he said sarcastically, and she completely ignored him. He snorted, shaking his head as Fliss laughed.

“Busy morning?” he asked and Fliss nodded.

“I’ll say.” she nodded to the bag “Saturday’s always are…aww, you bring me breakfast?”

“If 11 am counts as breakfast” he snorted and Fliss laughed as she continued sifting through the pile of envelopes on her desk. There was one that contained a few clearly hand delivered cards, he could tell by the shape and the fact they had no post marks, and then another small pile that had arrived in the post. “Bill, bill…oh…” She stopped at a bigger envelope. “A card?”

Frank shrugged. She turned it over, ripped open the envelope and pulled out a white card with simple block writing on the front in multi-colours. With a frown she opened it and scanned the greeting, before her eyes grew wide and she threw it down onto the desk.

“Lissy?” Frank frowned, and he looked at her as she shook her head, taking a deep breath, before she swallowed and turned to face him. “Honey, what is it?” “It’s…” she swallowed, her eyes wide “That card…it’s…it’s from John.”

Frank’s face grew harsh as he grabbed the card and read the greeting. It was 3 words long. 3 simple words, but even he knew from what she’d told him about the name John used to call her, that it was from him. Happy Birthday Sugar. “Fucker.” Frank growled, tossing the card back onto the desk as Fliss turned to him and he wrapped her in his arms, letting her simply press her face into his chest. He rubbed his hand gently up and down her back as her breathing evened out and she stepped back. “You ok?” “Yeah…” she said, “Do me a favour and get rid of it.” “Don’t you wanna call the police?” he frowned.

“They’re not going to do anything about a card.” she shook her head

“He’s broken his parole…” “And they can’t prove its him.” she sighed “They’re not gonna DNA test or whatever on that…” “Fliss…”

“No, Frank…just…” she shook her head. “Please, do what I ask and rip it up, burn it, whatever, I just…get rid of it”

“Ok, ok…” he appeased and she nodded, before she looked to the doorway and hastily her face rearranged into a smile.

“Hi Steph!” she greeted. Frank turned to see a dark haired woman dressed in riding gear, Fliss’ next client. “DJ is ready, get Jo to get you on and I’ll be out in a moment.” The woman smiled and headed off down the yard. Fliss looked at Frank.

“I didn’t think about the fact this place was so easy to find.” she shook her head “The webpage…” Frank sighed, it was something if truth be told he hadn’t considered either “Look, the worst he can do is send you shit.” he said, almost trying to convince himself as well “He can’t set foot out of Mass…he’s clearly doing this to try and upset you so…” “Well he can fuck off and die.” Fliss said venomously, “Ass hole…a fucking birthday card? He’s clearly losing his touch.” With that she gave his cheek a peck and grabbed a Danish out of the bag before she picked up her coffee. “This lesson is only half an hour so as soon as I’m done Mary can ride Monty and then she can do her jobs and stuff. You go and clear the boat from yesterday or whatever it is you were planning on doing and I’ll give you a call later ok?”

“Sure.” he nodded.

“Love you.” she smiled at him, before she left the room.

Frank watched her go before he looked at the card. She’d asked him to get rid of it…but something was telling him not to. He pondered it for a moment before he tucked the offending item back into the envelope and then curled it up so it would fit in his back pocket, before he headed out to the jeep, pulling his phone free as he walked.

“S’up Man?” Greg greeted him as he opened his truck door threw the envelope onto the passenger seat.

“I need some advice.” Frank spoke quietly, glancing over to where Fliss was now stood in the middle of the paddock, the women on the large grey horse was walking around her in a circle. “Can we meet?”

**** Chapter 19

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

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peaceoutofthepieces · 5 years ago

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123 @xiaomailab

Warning for panic attack near the end of the scene (after Lucas reads the messages).

~^~

Tuesday, 18:47

Songs: nilu - Are You With Me; Michael Schulte - Falling Apart

“No, no, wait, why is it doing that?” Jens whines from the screen, delicately brushing his thumb under Lucas’s eye to wipe away the dark smudge. “Why the fuck does eyeliner drip?”

“It’s liquid, man, what do you expect?”

Lucas skips ahead as Jens groans in the background and the camera moves to Sander. He plays it again when Moyo does a close up of his own face, the eyeliner now perfectly neat, and making the blue of his eyes stark. The on-screen version of him laughs at Moyo’s dramatic sounds of awe, and then there’s a close up of Jens. His tongue sticks out at the corner of his lips, brow just slightly furrowed, intensely concentrated as he paints on a light layer of lipstick. His eyes flick to the camera, and he falters just slightly, lips twitching. He manages to hold onto his focus for another few seconds before his lips crack in a smile and then into laughter, and he quickly draws his hand away from Lucas.

“Give me peace, asshole,” he says, leaving the camera shaking as he shoves Moyo back and another laugh rings out.

Robbe has sent him the completed vlog, that they haven’t posted yet. Lucas is currently watching it for the fourth time, with the volume raised to be heard over the bartering of rain against his window. By now he’s able to fast-forward to the specific shots of Jens that he likes most. He has Instagram open in the background, where his chat with Jens still remains quiet.

He rubs his hands over his face as Moyo zooms in on Jens puckering his lips, initially indicating for Lucas to do the same and ending up blowing a kiss to the camera. Talking to him yesterday hadn’t helped as Lucas had hoped it would. The few moments of contact had helped ease some of his worry, but the gaping hole in the chest that Jens usually takes up has only grown. He had hoped he would get the chance to convince Jens to come home to him, and then the connection cut out and Lucas had to hang up on Robbe before falling into a panicked state of despair.

Sander curses from the screen and then rapidly apologises as Robbe moans a complaint. “Isn’t this almost over?”

Lucas wonders the same thing as the shot cuts back to Jens and shows him leaning back with hands raised, a grin on his face as he announces he’s done. Lucas pauses on the image, chest tightening and jaw clenching.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he quickly shuts his laptop before his father peeks his head in. “Can I come in for a second?”

Lucas nods, setting his laptop aside as Hugo walks in and hovers by the bed as he holds an object out to Lucas.

His phone.

Lucas examines the spotless screen with wide eyes before shooting his eyes up to his father’s, which are crinkled at the corners with his smile. He waggles the object at Lucas, and Lucas takes it carefully, running his fingers around the edges. He holds in the power button and after a few seconds, it lights up.

“The guy in the shop charged it a little so he could make sure it’s working, but you’ll probably need to charge it yourself now,” Hugo says. “It look alright?”

It’s still in his old, worn, blue case, and when it finally comes to life, his favourite image of him and Kes appears on the lock-screen. He hovers his thumb over it as it shakes in his hand. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, it’s perfect. I didn’t even know you’d taken it.”

“Well, you need your phone. Even I can’t contact you without it. Consider it an additional late birthday present, huh? Better than those old albums I got you.”

Lucas shakes his head. “The albums are good. And the art supplies are expensive, I know that. You didn’t have to…”

“Shush,” Hugo waves a hand at him. “I don’t expect you to pay for things like that yourself. No matter how many jokes I make about you being an adult now.”

Lucas smiles slightly, though his eyes are misty as he turns his phone over on his palm. “Thank you.”

His father smiles back at him, then seems to hesitate again. “I also wanted to talk to you about this weekend. I organised a trip for the youth center. A few days away, where they can all hang out and do stuff together, can really help them out at this time of year. It just means you’ll be left here on your own.”

This would usually come as a relief. Now it makes anxiety churn in Lucas’s chest, and he has to quickly bite down on his lip. Otherwise he’ll do something ridiculous, like beg his father to stay. He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine for a couple of days on his own. “So, you’ll be going on Friday?”

“Yeah. The girls are taking them on the bus and I’ll drive down to meet them in the evening.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s some kind of adventure center. One of the kids themselves suggested it. We’re staying at a motel nearby.”

Lucas nods slowly. “Then you’ll be back on Sunday?”

“Yeah.” Hugo seems only mildly confused by the questioning, at Lucas’s unusual show of interest. “Should be back in the afternoon. So you’ll be alright? You can call me now if you need me.”

Lucas hums.

“If you want to, you can invite one of your friends over to keep you company. Maybe Jens.”

He says it cheerfully, proud of himself for remembering the name Lucas had let slip weeks ago. He seems oblivious to the pain it causes Lucas, so Lucas tries for a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

Hugo sets a hand on his shoulder and gives a squeeze. “Okay. Give your mom a call too when you can, alright? She keeps bugging me about you.”

“Have you been talking to her?”

“Ah, now, Luc, I still talk to your mother. Is that a new hoodie?”

Lucas blinks and looks down at himself, not understanding, until he sees the red. He’d forgotten he was even wearing Jens’s hoodie. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, aside from the faintest trace if Lucas moves in just the right way. He simply shakes his head as he looks back up at his dad.

Hugo purses his lips, nodding slightly as he shrugs. “Suits you. Alright, everything else okay with you?”

It takes a moment for Lucas to gain enough composure to smile and nod, and his father squeezes his shoulder once more before leaving him alone again.

Lucas takes a moment to breathe, then moves to his desk to find his charger, phone still clutched in his hand. He finds it hidden under a stack of papers and moves back to his bed, plugging the charger into the wall. He has to sit close to the edge so the lead will reach, but he manages, and soon he’s facing a flood of missed notifications.

Jens is right at the top.

It’s only after taking another long moment to breathe that Lucas is able to open the messages. There are a whole string from the weekend he’d left, easily two dozen, and guilt churns in his stomach once more as he reads through Jens’s concern. There’s even a selfie of him and Moyo from that Saturday, with both of them pouting at the camera, eyes slightly red. Obviously high. Lucas’s chest tightens further. He scrolls further down, through Jens’s more insistent questioning, where the frustration begins to truly slip in.

Then he makes it to the end, where he has a message from Sunday morning, sent just minutes before he had messaged Jens from Kes’s phone.

I’m getting really freaked out and I didn’t even think that was something that happens to me, but I really miss you Luc and I’m worried. please just message me. I love you

He reads it, then reads it again, over and over until the words blur and a single mantra runs through his mind.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lucas internalises the words, letting them fill up his chest until he can’t breathe.

Jens loves him. Lucas had no idea. Jens loves him and Lucas had left him. Jens loves him and Lucas had hurt him. Jens loves him and he’s being punished for it. Jens loves him and he isn’t here.

Lucas loves Jens, and he can’t breathe.

Air finally comes out in gasps, then heaves. The world around him has blurred. He’s being flung on the floor, dropped like a ragdoll, frozen in place, and then the slap. Over and over in an endless reel. Hands are shoving him, two pairs at once. His favourite brown eyes are unfamiliar, cold and distant, unreachable. He’s running away and running away and running away.

He’s staying and making it worse.

Jens has done nothing but love him, and Lucas has done nothing but hurt him. It’s his fault. His fault that Jens is in this position in the first place. His fault that Jens felt the need to try so hard and endanger himself. His fault that Jens is hurt. His fault that Jens is gone. His fault that Jens doesn’t know.

Lucas loves him, and Jens doesn’t know, and he can’t breathe.

He tucks his head between his knees and tries his usual method. He has to drop his phone to tangle his hands in his hair as he counts in for four, holds for four, breathes out for four. Except he can’t manage it. His breaths are short stutters, insufficient, and his ring catches in his curls and he sobs.

When he feels like he is going to suffocate, he drags himself to his feet. He stops once he gets there, having to stave off the urge to curl down into himself. His hands grapple at air, curled into claws at his sides as choked sounds continue to spill from his throat. It takes him three tries to repeatedly force himself into enough motion to open his door. From there he’s overcome with urgency, and he speeds down the hall, into the kitchen where his father is sat with a newspaper at the table.

“Dad,” he croaks.

Hugo looks up, brows raised. His expression falls instantly into concern as he stands from the chair and rounds the table. “Lucas? Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Lucas lets out another sob. “I can’t—“

He cuts himself off as his knees give out. His father catches him as he sinks towards the floor, drawing him into his arms and providing a sturdy support. Lucas relinquishes all his weight and lets the man hold him up, kneeling on the floor alongside him.

“Hey, Luc. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he soothes, gently rocking him back and forth, hand petting through his hair in a gesture Lucas hasn’t experienced since he was a child half his current size.

“Can you help?” Lucas pleads. “Please, can you help, can you help me?” He feels his father nod, feels a kiss pressed to the crown of his head, and he lets out a shaky breath.

Hugo holds him and guides him through it, regulating his own breaths until Lucas’s heartbeat feels just manageable. “I’ve got you, buddy. I’ll do whatever you need. Do you hear me? I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip #i just really love hugo #so sorry i didn’t add the warning before #i’d forgotten what actually happens in this scene!

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years ago

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Mostly gen, this chapter is pretty tame. Reader gets pretty horny towards the end but nothing below the belt actually occurs

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 5/16 (all chapters)

You didn’t get any sleep that night.

As a result of your visits to the police station, hospital and briefing at UA, you didn’t get around to checking your phone until 8PM, only to find it had exploded with missed calls, text messages and voicemails. You had missed well over 200 messages in the group chat you shared with your friends and 32 çalls from your mother.

They all knew you worked at UA and by now the attack was all over the news.

You gave up on catching up on everything you had missed after the first five minutes, choosing instead to send a copy pasted message to everyone in your notifications.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

Responding was a mistake, for even more messages flooded through the moment you hit send.

Everyone wanted to know the gory details. Cousins you hadn’t talked to in years suddenly had more than a passing interest in your affairs.

And then there was the message that made you drop your phone; a single sentence buried between notifications.

It was from your ex.

You had parted on relatively good terms, considering, though hadn’t talked since he picked up his things from your house. You had told yourself it was for the best, even if it shattered your heart to pieces.

It was strange to hear from him now and he seemed to know it, for his words were no more intimate or friendly than those of your distant cousins. It was as if you’d never been lovers, yet memories flooded back.

You remembered eating lunch together at your kitchen table; remembered wearing his sweater on nights he wasn’t home and burying your nose in the collar. You remembered picking out dresses for date nights and taking his hand on the train ride home.

It had been a long, emotional day and you didn’t trust yourself to reply. Instead you got up to make a late dinner, stealing glances at your phone out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but wonder how today might have gone if you were still together. Would he have picked you up from the police station? Maybe he would have taken you for gelato.

You picked up your phone as you waited for your food to cook, opening and closing his message. You gave up in the end, copy and pasting the same response you had given everyone else, but with one minor change.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

How are you?

He replied within the next five minutes, detailing the brand new business partnership he had achieved with one of the major hero agencies in Roppongi. He’d been chasing such a partnership for many of the years you had known him and it was difficult to stop yourself swelling with pride. He wasn’t your boyfriend now, after all.

He was just as curious about your new job at UA, though mostly seemed confused. You had been in your previous job for years with no desire to move, after all. You kept quiet about the fact that if he hadn’t broken your heart you would probably still be there.

After an hour or so of back and forth, he finally sent the message you had been dreading.

We should go for dinner some time.

You cast aside your phone and poured yourself a much needed glass of wine. You didn’t trust yourself to see him in person. It took everything you had not to call him there and then so you could hear his voice.

Your reply was as polite as it was cagey, apologising for your busy schedule under the current circumstances. It was at least partly true, and he seemed understanding enough. Everyone in the country knew about UA’s upcoming sports festival, after all.

Little did you know you’d be seeing him far sooner than expected.

━

UA was closed the next day for repairs and staff meetings. All UA staff were present, with one notable exception. Shouta was still in the hospital and expected to rest up for the rest of the week.

The attack on the USJ might have been foiled, but the implications of it were massive, especially with the sports festival on the horizon. You expected the games to be postponed for the immediate future, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, the attack made Nezu even more determined to make this year’s games the biggest yet.

You understood his decision, even if you didn’t completely agree with it. The sports festival was critical to the future prospects of all UA students, many of whom (such as the third year pupils) would not get another opportunity to show off their skills in such a public manner. You only hoped that it wasn’t a mistake.

Your own contributions to the meetings were small in the grand scheme of things and you were finished up for the day by 1:30 in the afternoon. You considered picking up groceries on the way home, only to get off the train at the nearest platform to the hospital.

By now Shouta must have come around from his anaesthesia and you decided to call in and visit to find out if he needed anything, like spare clothes or someone to help out with his household chores during his recovery. You had heard Hizashi and Nemuri make comments about his love for cats and seen cat hair on his clothes on certain occasions. If he had pets, you were only too happy to babysit them while he was away.

Unfortunately, your plans were quashed almost immediately.

“What do you mean he discharged himself?”

━

You thought about Shouta as you took the train, as you packed up your groceries and slipped through your front door. He had been terribly beaten up the last time you’d seen him, so much so that even his doctors had recommended he rest for the week. Why would he leave after less than 24 hours? Why would he overstrain himself in such a way?

You thought about him as you made lunch and the final adjustments to your schedule. He was a grown man, you told yourself. He was perfectly capable of making his own choices and taking care of himself.

Even so, you couldn’t stop thinking about his two injured arms. How was he going to cook? How was he going to clean? Surely he didn’t mean to continue underground work with damage to his skull?

You lasted until 5PM before giving up and texting Hizashi.

Can you call me when you’re free?

He called you only seconds later.

“How can I help you, sweet listener?”

“It’s Shouta,” you said. “I called by at the hospital and...well...he’s discharged himself.”

“He what ?!”

“I know,” you said. “I’m really worried.”

“That’s so typical of him,” Hizashi sighed, “what is he thinking?”

“I was thinking I might stop by his place to check on him,” you said. “Do you know where he lives?”

He went quiet for a couple of seconds, clearly thinking about it.

“You know, (Name), it’s not the kind of neighbourhood for a lady…”

“I’ll text you when I get there?”

“Hmmm…”

You could practically see him leaning back in his chair and scratching his chin.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you!”

“You’ve gotta text me though.”

“I will!”

“And, by the way…”

“Mhmmm?”

“How long have you been calling him Shouta?”

You flushed a bright red, feeling as if you’d been caught with your pants down.

Of all of the teachers, Shouta was the only one who hadn’t openly given you permission to call him by his first name in informal situations. You referred to him as Aizawa while around other people and even on the rare occasions you were alone. You had reset, even if he would always be Shouta in your mind.

“I…I...I’ll speak to you later, haha, bye!”

You couldn’t hang up fast enough. You were convinced the intonation of your voice would betray the truth.

You buried your head in your hands, as if to hide your face from your phone.

Well, shit.

━

Hizashi hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Shouta lived in a shady area. Many of the buildings had boarded over their windows and just about every exposed area of brick had several layers of graffiti, most of which were obscene.

You felt eyes on the back of your neck as you pressed the buzzer for Shouta’s apartment, though soon identified the source as a grey cat sprawled across the wall, watching you with steady amber eyes.

“Hello,” you said, leaning over, “are you the gatekeeper?”

The cat yawned and stretched out a paw.

“Oh, I see, I see,” you said, tapping a fingertip against its paw by way of a handshake. “Well you’re doing a very good job.”

“What are you doing here?”

That voice sounded incredibly familiar and you glanced up towards the balcony above you. Shouta was peering over it, still bandaged up and both of his arms in casts. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was scowling.

“I came to check in on you,” you called up. “The hospital said you’d discharged yourself, and-“

He turned on the spot.

“As you can see, I’m okay. You can go home now.”

“But…”

You had packed an insulated bag full of food before leaving home and glanced from that to the gate. Were you going to have to carry it back on the train? You’d already packed a big lunch for the next day, ahead of seeing 1-A through counselling. Just what were you going to do with all of this extra food?

Shouta peered back over the balcony and sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “But make sure you hold the door open for Sushi.”

“Sushi?” you wondered aloud as the buzzer sounded and you let yourself through the gate. “Who’s Sushi?”

As if in response, the cat hopped down from its position on the wall and wandered up the path as if it had done so a thousand times. It stopped at the front door to the building and turned back to you expectantly, waiting for you to open the door.

You followed the cat into the building and up the stairs. The cat, Sushi you supposed, would rush off ahead of you and then wait for you to catch up. It barreled up the stairwell and then sat at the top before climbing the next. You knew which apartment belonged to Shouta even without checking over Mic’s message, for the cat sat down outside of it and looked back at you.

“Thank you, gatekeeper,” you said, tapping at the door.

“It’s open,” Shouta called out from within and you reached for the handle, Sushi the cat squeezing through the gap the moment you opened it even slightly.

You didn’t know what you expected from Shouta’s home. You knew he spent very little time there and that much was clear the moment you got inside. He had minimal furniture: a couch in one corner, along with a small table and even smaller television. There were no photographs on the walls; no blankets or decorations. Everything in his home had a clear function, as if designed to be left in a hurry. It was the opposite of your home in every possible sense.

“Make yourself comfy, I guess,” he said.

“I don’t know when exactly you checked out of the hospital,” you said, “but I thought you might be hungry. I made a few things…”

You walked over to the table and unzipped your bag.

“I wasn’t sure what kinds of food you liked, so I brought a bit of everything,” you said, pulling out each container. “There’s some soup, some rice, meatballs, an omelette…”

Retrospectively, you had rather overdone it.

“Some of these can be frozen or reheated,” you said. “You don’t have to eat all of them at once.”

He glanced from you to your food containers, which by then had taken up almost all of his table.

“You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. We’re colleagues, remember!”

“Yeah,” he said. “I-”

He didn’t get to say anymore, though, for his stomach rumbled noisily.

“Shouta,” you said. “When did you last eat?”

“I...hmm...I had a small meal at the hospital before I-”

“You... wh-?! That was hours ago! You need proteins and vitamins to heal.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

It wasn’t fine. Not by any means.

You simmered as you plated up a few of the containers and refrigerated the rest. You couldn’t believe how little one person could care for their own body and pretended you didn’t see the bottles of antiseptic, antibiotics and bandages on his shelf. How many wounds had he gotten without seeing a doctor? How many of his scars came from cuts he had tended himself?

“I don’t want to hear you complain about Midoriya breaking his bones ever again,” you muttered as Sushi rubbed against your legs, seeming not to notice the bowl of cat food only a short distance away.

Of course he’d remembered to feed the cat.

Of course.

“Yes, yes,” said Shouta, leaning back on the couch and pulling down some of his bandages to expose his mouth and chin.

You brought the food over to his table and proceeded to pack away your empty food containers, watching out of the corner of your eye as he leaned over to pick up the cutlery, only to flinch and drop it.

“Do you need some help?”

“Nope, I got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ye-fuck.”

The cutlery clattered to the table with a dull thud and you took a seat next to him, reaching for the cutlery and holding it out to him.

“Thank you,” he said, albeit reluctantly, balancing it in his fingers before dropping it again.

“Let me help you,” you said, grabbing the fork and scooping up some of the omelette. “Open wide.”

“Wh-no way,” he said, eyes darting from you to the fork. “I ain’t a toddler.”

“It’s not like I’m going to make aeroplane sounds. Let me help you.”

Shouta grumbled under his breath, but ate from the fork you raised to his lips.

“..cious,” he murmured as you gathered a second forkful.

“Hmm?”

“I said...if you tell anyone about this I’ll shave off your eyebrows.”

“Neglect yourself this much again and I’ll shave your entire head.”

A smile crept across your face; you couldn’t help it. This whole situation was more than a little absurd. Here was the underground hero, Eraserhead, known for his smooth takedowns of villains in Musutafu’s underbelly, struggling to hold onto a fork. You were little more than a girl he’d hooked up, yet there you were, nagging him as if you were married.

Shouta fell into contemplative silence as well.

“At the attack,” he said at last. “Did they hurt you?”

“What do you mean?”

You hadn’t been involved in the fighting, but perhaps he didn’t know that?

“At the hospital,” he said, “you had blood on your shirt.”

Your heart skipped a beat, remembering how you had kissed his forehead before you could stop yourself. You’d thought he was asleep. Had he been awake the whole time?

“No,” you said. “Nezu had me go to the police station. I used my quirk too much on the suspects too much, that’s all.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Were you… worried about me?”

“Of course not! It’s just that you’re useless in battle.”

“Oh my god, you were worried about me.”

“No I wasn’t,” he said, stubbornly. “Now give me some of the chicken.”

You scooped up some of it and lifted it to his lips but he didn’t move, even though he’d asked for it.

“Shou…” you began, only to fall silent as he leaned in.

You told yourself you should pull away, even as you met him in the middle and ran your tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned over towards you and crushed his lips against yours, kissing you so deeply that it sent a shiver through your core. You wanted his hands on you; wanted to ride him until both your throat and cunt were raw.

Oh no...

Before this, you had never known that kisses could feel like stormy seas. For the first time in your life, you wanted to drown.

You reached to cup the uninjured side of his face.

Two seconds more and you would break the reset. Three and you wouldn’t even regret it.

Sushi took the initiative, though, making use of the distraction to hop onto your lap and steal the chicken from your fork. You broke the kiss, both pulling away as if burned.

“I…” you said, “I’m sorry.”

What were you thinking? Shouta was injured and likely still had remnants of anesthesia in his body. Even if he didn’t, the attack on USJ would leave anyone shaken. You had gone there to help him out with chores, not take advantage of him while he was in a potentially vulnerable state.

“I should go,” you said, clearing your throat and rushing away to zip up your insulated bag.

“(Name),” he said. “I-”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It was my fault. I…”

You gave him the biggest, most artificial smile in your arsenal; the one you used at job interviews and dinner with your parents.

“I’ll see you at work!”

━

You thought about the kiss on the train ride home, as you washed your dirty food containers and took a bath. You sank down into the water, wishing you could wash away the fluttering in your core.

It was just arousal, you told yourself. Sex released chemicals, namely oxytocin, and it was natural for you to feel attached to him. Hell, you’d seen each other completely naked, which in itself was something profoundly intimate.

It would fade in time, as all things did.

You repeated it over and over as you dried yourself off and got into bed. Soon, very soon, you would forget how it felt when he’d touched you. Bodies replaced their cells every decade or so; one day your bodies would have never touched at all.

The exhaustion from the past few days caught up with you the moment your head touched the pillow and before long you were dreaming.

You dreamed of waking in the arms of your lover, who ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you on the forehead. The bed was comfortably warm and bathed in soft morning light; your lover’s arm heavy across your waist.

“(Name),” he whispered in your ear and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“(Name),” he whispered again and you looked up into his face, taking in his black hair and dark eyes. “Why are you crying?”

Your eyes snapped open then, dragging you back to your empty room.

There was no one else in your bed, you realised. It was the middle of the night, with no trace of the early morning glow you had so happily basked in.

The tears, though, they were real.

━

A/N

yes, it's that Sushi

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #habanero

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marigoldbaker · 5 years ago

Note

hello I’d just like to apologise for flooding your notifications lmao your jenny calendar headcanons tag is the only thing giving me the post-passion closure I need after my rewatch. and if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any fluffy calendiles headcanons to ease the pain 😂

oh you are so SO valid honestly???? i’m full on living in the ‘verse of boom comics where giles and jenny are very visibly in love and being very very stupid about it, plus i was in the land of denial for years before the boom comics came out. tv canon is just too much angst. gotta peace out of there.

as for headcanons:

jenny and giles never actually feel the need to have kids because they’re already those embarrassing parents who do things like show up at willow’s graduation and cry so loudly when she walks across the stage that the family next to them genuinely thinks some kind of horrible tragedy has happened (giles) or flip a table over when someone says something homophobic to buffy and get literally ALL the scoobies banned from EVERY california pizza kitchen (jenny). their children are so fucking tired.

if they do have kids, it’s a) definitely an accident and b) a mutual agreement is made that aunt buffy will handle the pta meetings, because jenny has no patience for pta meetings and giles gets really unhealthily invested in taking down bethany’s mom at the bake sale.

jenny doesn’t know how to cook, and while she is KINDA okay at keeping the house tidy, she definitely doesn’t live up to giles’s meticulous standards. when they started living together he just kinda fell into the role of house husband and he’s pretty chill with it honestly. she’s the breadwinner. it’s cute.

sometimes giles badly improvises songs about jenny on the guitar just to make her laugh

jenny is absolutely the jealous type but is absolutely never jealous when ethan shows up. ethan, who has seen jenny come EXTREMELY close to throwing hands with a lady giving giles the once-over at the laundromat (do not ask why he saw this.), is EXTREMELY insulted, feels that his status as giles’s First Love is being overlooked, and attempts to go out of his way to Make Jenny Jealous. jenny thinks this is very funny and encourages it. giles is really really tired and really wishes he didn’t have such questionable taste in partners, ethan please stop sending extravagant flower arrangements to my house this is getting a bit much

giles is genuinely a really sunshiny guy compared to jenny. she’s a little awkward and dour around people she doesn’t know, though she covers it up with a veneer of determined confidence. he’s the only one who can get her to really smile, and most of the time she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

whenever anyone asks jenny who giles is to her, she says he’s her best friend. whenever anyone asks giles who jenny is to him, he makes a lot of helpless stammering noises because even after literal years of being in a committed relationship, you say the word “jenny” around him unexpectedly and his brain fuckin shuts down.

jenny and giles are really really good at wordless communication, but most of it is just jenny giving giles the “stop being a fucking idiot” look from across the room and him responding with the “YOU’RE the fucking idiot” look right back

when they kissed for the first time, giles got a little blushy but it was fine. jenny’s KNEES GAVE WAY and she had to like grab him and pull him in for a second kiss to hide how damn flustered she was.

#asks #calendiles #headcanon #rupert giles #jenny calendar #i tried to come up with some new and fun ones lmao #anyway i stand by everything on this list. they're snarky soft parents what else is new #cats-mckinnon

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Riding High Ch 18: Sugar

Chapter Summary: It’s July, and Fliss’ birthday…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.!!!

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Also, I noticed yesterday that Tumblr seems to be swallowing huge chunks of my work on SSB…so I’m going to try and publish this in one, but if it doesn’t work I’ll split it over 2 parts.

Chapter Song: Shogun by George Ezra

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“And we got two in the front, two in the back, sailing along and we don’t look back”

July 2018

“So now what?” Mary looked at Fliss as the two of them sat side by side at the table, both looking at the laptop in front of them.

“Ok, so see these spaces here…” Fliss said, pointing to 2 empty squares dotted in the unpublished Internet Page and then to the larger space at the top “Now we need to add the photos…”

“Yeah…ok so I want that one that has me, you and Monty in…you know the one that Frank likes where we are both laughing.” Fliss smiled “Ok, we can use that one.” “And then the other one is the one where Monty had the Party Hat on because it was his birthday.” “Good choice.” Fliss smiled “And what about the one across the top.” “The one of him in the pasture.” Mary said after a moment “Where he is looking up and pulling the funny face, you know with all his teeth out?”

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it looks like he is smiling.” Mary nodded eagerly “Yup.” “Ok…” Fliss said, and with a move of the mouse she set to work selecting the photos, ensuring that they were positioned and sized right for the frames. She couldn’t help but smile at the one of her and Mary. Mary was looking at the camera, laughing a lot whilst Fliss was, in turn, watching her and laughing too. Frank had been trying to take the photo of the 2 of them but Bill had been stood behind him, pulling stupid faces which had reduced Mary to tears, and her giggles had then set Fliss off. Frank said he adored the photo, that much in-fact it was now the screen-saver on his phone.

Fliss clicked save and then looked at Mary. “Wanna give it a final read over, check if you want to add anything else?”

Mary nodded.

“Ok, you do that I’m gonna start dinner.” “What are we having?” Mary looked at her.

“Carbonara. That ok?”

Mary grinned her approval as Fliss stood up, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Frank came home and greeted Mary before he headed into the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms round Fliss from behind, dropping a kiss to her neck.

“Good day?” he asked and she hmmed in agreement.

“Not bad…are you filthy, as usual?”

“Stop it.” he said, giving her a look, knowing full well what she was thinking. She shrugged and with a grin turned back to the food.

“Oh, erm, wanted to check…are you if we use photos of Mary for her blog on the website?” Fliss asked, turning back to him.

“Of course I am.” he said, frowning “Why wouldn’t I be?” “It’s a public sight.” Fliss shrugged “Just wanted to check that’s all.” “It’s fine.” Frank said, placing a kiss to her cheek “I think it’s a really good idea anyway, give her something to do and practice her writing. Like Bonnie said, she’s sharp on the numbers but could do with honing up her English a little bit. She’s too logical, this should give her something to be creative with and keep her occupied over the break.”