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dreamifics · 3 years

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Love and Monsters

Steve Harrington x Reader!Henderson

Oneshot

Y/N Henderson's life was not like any other normal teenager's life, on a very young age her only friends was her brother, Dustin and his friends.. She was not popular in highschool, but she was not a nobody neither.. Y/N was just invisible, lost in the sea of students.. She was almost through highschool though, one day her life was turned upside down, literally and figuratively.. It's been months since the 'thing' happend, but she was still shaken up.

Y/N was laying in bed, My Generation blasting from her stereo.. She was home alone, her mother was out with some friends, her brother was hanging out with 'King Steve'.. Ever since Steve helped them about Dart, she grew closer to Steve but their short lived friendship ended when Dustin left for camp and Steve worked on their family business while she was stuck preparing herself for college.. Y/N misses Steve, his unfunny jokes and oh god--his laugh..

A loud knock startled her, she shot up from her bed, memories of what happend was flashing back to her.. Despite what she tells her friend, she was not okay.. She almost died twice and that opened up trauma's and issues within herself..

Another loud knock startled her, Y/N shakes her head and just ran to the door.. Reaching their front door, her icy hands made contact with the cold steel knob..

It revealed a disheveled Dustin and Steve, she could tell that there were excitement dripping all over them.. Steve was still wearing his sailor work uniform, he looked cute to Y/N but she once threw that thought in the back of her mind..

"What's up?" She questioned the two.

Dustin just smiled and pushed pass her, while Steve was reluctant to go in.. Steve avoided Y/N for almost the whole summer because of the daunting realization that he was catching feelings for her and that scared him.. Y/N was the kind of girl that likes to watch nerdy movies, spend hours playing games with a bunch of kids and save the world two times.. However, Steve was scared, he was still stuck in the unjustified rules of highschool and popularity. . He still wanted to be 'King Steve', but he also wanted to be Y/N's..

"Nice outfit, sailor boy.." Y/N winked and laughs at Steve, he just shakes his head and went inside their house..

Steve made his way to Dustin's room with Y/N right behind him, but before reaching Dustin's room, he passed Y/N's room.. He unconsciously stopped as he looks around, observing every corner of her room.

There were posters plastered all over her walls, books were all around her room in her bed, shelves and even floors.. In the other side she had a small collection of music that made Steve smile.. Because they had the exact same taste, she is the perfect girl.

"If you want to go in, you're free to wander around my room, anytime.."

Steve turned around to face Y/N, he misses her.. How Y/N sarcastic remarks leave her sweet lips or how she rolls her eyes whenever she see something stupid.

"I might just take you up on that.."

"Hm-mm.. You didn't even talk to me when Dustin left, you broke my heart, Steviee.." She jokes, but it sounded a little bitter.

Y/N did get hurt, Steve stopped talking to her when Dustin left, it seems like Steve didn't really like her as much as she thinks he did. Y/N was bored and got stuck just studying and sometimes hanging out with the party.. It was fun but she was looking forward to hanging out with Steve.

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't want to see my old friends hanging out with someone like yo---" Steve stopped his sentence, he didn't mean that.. His mind was a mess, he said those things because he didn't want Y/N finding out his stupid feelings

"Right..Yeah, I get it.."

"Y/N that's not what I me--"

"Cause King Steve shouldn't be hanging out with people like me?Gotcha.."

Steve didn't even had the time to reply, he was met with Y/N's slamming door.. He didn't mean that.. Steve loved hanging out with Y/N, he want to give her something special.. Steve wanted something more from Y/N.. He knew exactly what and he didn't need a reason why but Steve wanted to give Y/N something more..

Y/N was hurt, she didn't know why but Steve words brought devastation to her.. She felt disappointed and upset, Y/N was expecting something special.. She didn't know what or why but she was expecting something more from Steve.

Y/N was dropping off Dustin to the mall where Steve was working, her lips were in a unsual frown.. Y/N wasn't usally like this, she was having a bad week, Steve just hurt her feelings and she was taking it much harder, it was very unsual.. The two Henderson was making their way to the Scoops Ahoy shop, Dustin was rambling about a message he picked up while contacting his girlfriend.

"Are you listening?" Her brother asked as they reach the store.

"Yepp, you should go in now.."

"Y/N, this could be a good thing!"

"I know..If you need my help, you can find me in the food court.."

"Y/N.."

"Yeah, Dus?"

"Are you okay?"

Y/N's mind went blank, she hated lying to her brother but she didn't want to worry anyone. She laughs and messed Dustin's hair.

"Of course.. Now go, you know where to find me.." With that she left..

Y/N was not okay, the last time she slept was a month ago.. Nightmares kept crawling back to her, she was growing more paranoid by the day.. She was not okay, but she couldn't tell anyone that.. Everyone else is okay, even Wil who had it more rough than her. And to top that up, she was broken hearted by Steve's rejection of their friendship.. Y/N just massaged the bridge of her nose, when will she be fine?

Dustin and Steve was in the corner of the mall with binoculars in their eyes, Steve saw Y/N.. Sitting alone in the corner, a walkman in her ears and a book in hand.. Y/N was mouthing the word as her eyes read every word on that book and Steve couldn't help but feel all giddy and guilty inside.

"You see anything?" Dustin snapped Steve back to their current task.

"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for.'' Steve answered honestly, Y/N distracted him again.

"Evil Russians."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like."

"All blond, not smiling."

"Mm-hmm?" Steve's eyes didn't looked for any Russians, his eyes drifted to Y/N spot but she was gone.. Where did she go? He couldn't help but worry, was she talking to someone else?

"Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing." Dustin added.

"Right, okay, duffel bags." Steve darts his eyes away from Y/N seat but it only fell on a girl he asked out earlier.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Steve mutters.

"What?" Dustin questioned.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."

"If you're not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars."

Dustin got annoyed by his distracted partner, he should have brought his sister along.. But he knew that Y/N was not okay, she seemed distant and lost in her own mind.. Always spacing out and Dustin can hear her cries from his room, it killed him to see her loving and hyper sister transform into a walking corpse.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?"

"I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench." Steve rambled on, annoying Dustin.

"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?"

The two fought for the binoculars, but they just looked stupid.. Dustin initially gave up and gave the binoculars to Steve.

"I don't get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."

"Seriously, if you say Robin again..." Steve closes his eyes waiting for Robin's name to come up but it never did.

"No, Y/N.. My sister.."

Steve's heart clenched at the mention of her name, he wants Y/N too.. What can he do? Y/N hates his ass now, he was a jerk and he didn't deserve Y/N.

"No, man, she's not my type." Steve answered while he diverts his eyes away from Dustin.

"I saw you staring at her closed door for about 5 minutes."

Steve eyes grew wide at the realization that Dustin was watching the whole time.. Dustin just shakes his head, if he was asked he'd say that her sister felt the same way..

"She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?"

"What's your type again? Not awesome?"

"Thank you."

"Hm."

"For you information, your sister is too sarcastic, she's too nerdy for me.."

"Also, she's too...boyish.."

Beautiful, that's what he wanted to say..

"Dude, that's my sister you're talking about, and besides she's not like that.. She's nerdy but so what? Y/N's also not boyish, she's just secured with her masculinity.."

Dustin's word echoed throughout Steve's system, he already knew that.. But somehow hearing it from another person's perspective made him like you more.

"Y/N's just not my type.." He lied..

Y/N was everything he ever wanted in a girl.

"Thanks for the clarification, Harrington." A voice surprised the two.

Y/N was standing behind them, her arms crossed.. Steve's eyes widen in surprise, did she hear everything? He didn't mean that, what did he mean?

"I didn't mean t--"

"Dustin, if you told me you'll stalk people in malls, I should've brought you to a psychiatrist.." Y/N ignored Steve and just focused on her brother.. Y/N would be lying if she haven't felt more hurt by the words Steve dropped.. She had been listening since the talk about girls came up, Y/N spotted the two doing eccentric things and she decided to eavesdrop.

"No, it's called spying.." Dustin rolled his eyes at her sister remarks while Steve was still frozen..

"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, her eyes still focused on he brother..

"It's just different, okay? Were looking for the--" Dustin stopped and looks around to see if anybody was near..

"Russians?" Y/N continued in a loud tone.

"Shh!" Both Steve and her brother shushed her. Y/N was surpised, she glares at the two and moved closer to them.

"Fine, can I tag along? I'm bored and it'll be nice to be a national hero."

The two looked at each other, Steve was nervous.. Y/N obviously didn't want him around, but this could be a chance for him to apologize to Y/N.

"Sure, you can help us look for russians with dufflebags and camo." Dustin pulled her sister to his side.

"That's kinda racis--"

"No, it's not!" Dustin cuts her sister off making Y/N laugh..

"Whatever you say Dus.."

And that's how she ended up inside a theater with two kids and two drugged teenagere.. Y/N's breathing was heavy, they were captured by Russians just moments ago.. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she thought this town was finally normal again, but turns out she was wrong.. Very very wrong..

They needed to get out of this hellish mall, Y/N need to find out if there's still russians lurking out, looking for them.

"The two of you need to stay here and take care of them." Y/N instructs to her brother, she pointed at a floopy Steve and Robin.

"Wait--Where are you going?!" Dustin stopped her by pulling her arm.

"I'm going to see if those fuckers are still looking for us.."

"No, we'll come with you.."

"Dustin, you need to stay here and keep a low profile.."

"Y/N don't be a hero.."

"Hey, Dipshit!I'm not trying to be a hero, what I'm doing is protecting you guys because our two friends are drugged and beaten while we brought a little kid into our mess!And I will do everything to keep you all safe, even if that means I get hurt or killed!"

Dustin knew that there's no talking Y/N out of this, her sister was right.. Taking a deep breath, he just nods and hugs her sister..

"Just please, stay safe.." Dustin was in the verge of tears but Y/N held him tight in her arms.. Dustin pulled back, Y/N gave her brother a comforting smile, she rubbed his cheeks and pat his head.

"I'll be okay, I'm a Henderson for god's sake.."

Dustin laughs as tears stroll in his face, she kissed his forehead and walked away, trying not to attract attention.. Taking a deep breath she left the theater, she'll do whatever it takes to keep her brother and her friends.. Y/N's mind flew to Steve, she was pissed off but she was not sure anymore.. The way he saved them and got beat up for them, she couldn't find a reason to be mad at him, all she can think about is his childlish look and how hot he is in his sailor uniform. Y/N just shakes those thoughts away and tried to focus on her task..

Russians..

Steve and Robin were throwing up in a seperate cubicles, they were getting the drugs out of their system.. Retching and puking can be heard all through out the theater bathroom, Steve groans and flushes the toilet.

"The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?" Robin's voice can be heard from the other cubicle.

"Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?" Steve rested his back to the mini wall inside the cubicle..

"Maybe. Ask me something.."

"Interrogate me." Robin said in a mocking russian accent.

"Okay. Interrogate you. Sure. Um... When was the last time you, uh, peed your pants?"

"Today."

"What?"

"When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw."

"Oh... All right, my turn."

"Okay. Hit me."

"Have you... ever been in love?"

"Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year." Steve imitates a gunshot.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I found someone else, she's a little bit better for me.It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, 'You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie.' "

"Wait, who's Suzie?"

"It's some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real."

" But that's not- that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like, it's somebody that I... didn't even talk to in school. And I don't even know why."

"Maybe 'cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or... I wouldn't be... prom king. It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out with this girl the whole time."

"First of all, she hates me now because of a stupid thing I said but when we hanged out, we were bonding and shit.. She was perfect for me, she's nerdy, hangs out with kids too much.. She likes the same things I like, her brother is my bestfriend.. Sometimes I wonder if she's real, because she's too perfect."

"Wait--You like Y/N?"

"Yeah, ever since last year.. I like her so damn much, I can't even believe that I said to her that I shouldn't be hanging out with someone like her."

"YOU SAID THAT?" Robin's voice boomed out all over the bathroom, Steve just sighs and slids out of the cubicle..

"Unfortunately, yes.."

Steve slid in to Robins cubicle, she was glaring at him.

"If you ask me, Y/N doesn't deserve someone like me.. She--She's too nice to be caught up in my miserable life.. And besides she would never like me.."

"I think you're still high.."

"No, I'm not.."

"Do you remember what I said about Click's class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?"

"Yeah?"

"It isn't because I had a crush on you. It's because... she wouldn't stop staring at you.."

"Mrs. Click?" Robin chuckles and just shakes her head.

"Y/N Henderson, I wanted her to look at me. But... she couldn't pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn't understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag. And- And you didn't even like her then and... I would go home... and just scream into my pillow."

"But Y/N's a girl.."

"Steve.."

"Oh.."

"Yeah, now listen..Don't give me the 'she doesn't deserve me' and 'she doesn't like me back' crap.. Y/N was inlove with you since highschool, now you will tell her all about your mushy mushy feelings and you'll two will get married, have kids and you'll have me to thank for. "

"But what about you?"

"Please, I moved on.."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah, with my pretty face?I could find someone in a jiffy!"

The two were laughing when Dustin and Ericka burst into the bathroom.. Annoyance and frustration written all over their face..

"Okay.What the hell?!" Dustin asked very annoyed.

"Dude, we're normal again.."

"That's not the problem now, we need to find Y/N and go with the rest of the party."

"Y/N's not with you?"

"Do you see her?" Erica asked with the normal sass in her voice. Robin rolls her eyes at Erica who just glares at her.

"Where did she go?" Steve ignored Erica's sarcastic question

"She said she'll check the perimeter, but she hasn't come back since." Dustin answered, she was worried for her sister.. In their situation, who wouldn't?

"Shit." Steve and Robin both utter at the same time.

Y/N was changed into a much more inauspicious clothes, it was just some pants and a shirt tucked into it.. She fixed her disheveled hair and wiped her sweat.. She needed to blend in, her eyes wander around the mall.. There were Russians walking around, bviously looking for someone and that someone was them.. All the exits are heavily guarded by guards, there's no way out..

Taking a deep breath she walked back to the theater, praying that her brother and friends was safely still there but before she could even reached the theater, a russian man spotted her..

"I got eyes on one of the target!" The russian said into his earpiece, making Y/N run to the higher level of the mall, her heart racing and she was starting to feel tired.

Y/N just ran until she lost the russian, her breathing was getting shorter by the second.. Y/N's leg was starting to hurt but she ignored it and looked down to see if she can spot her brother..

And there they are, getting chased by guards.. Worries pumped into her brain as they run.. She needed to help them, if not they could get killed.

"Hey stupid spies!I'm right up here, morons!" Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs as she waves her hands around..

Steve and Dustin was horrified as they hide into the counters, Y/N was risking her life for theirs..

The guards that was chasing them made eye contact and targeted Y/N but before they could do anything a car honk.. The russians looked at each other, confused and dazed.. Eleven can be seen controlling the car, she throws it at the bad men and all they could hear were groans..

Y/N felt a surge of relief, she made her way to her brother.. Dustin, Robin, Erica and Steve pop out from behind the counter, steam hissing.. Y/N saw her brother and they all rushed up to hug her..

A tight hug welcomed Y/N, but this hug wasn't just from Dustin.. It was also from Robin, Erica and Steve.. Suddenly they all look up to see the rest of the party.. The hug was cut off by Dustin running to hug Mike and Eleven.

"Lucas?" Erica saw her brother and it made Lucas confuse..

"What are you doing here?"

Y/N who was just taking in deep breaths smiled to herself.. They were safe, but she knew this was not over.. Steve stayed in Y/N side, Robin's word replayed in his mind.. This is his chance to say his undying love to Y/N.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Y/N saw Steve besides her, she was growing tired but Y/N needed to keep thriving for everyone.. Y/N saw that Steve was hesitant, he was nervous and it made her felt nervous too.

"I--I uhh.." Steve mumbles, his tongue was backing out.. Y/N had such a powerful effect on him, to the way she says his name, and everytime Y/N calls him, his heart skips a beat.. It sounds corny, but it was true..

"What?Do you need a speak and spell?" Y/N joked, it didn't help a struggling Steve.. He started to grew more anxious, he needed to get this off his chest.. This could be the last time they all see each other alive, there's no telling what could happen to them.

Y/N was just staring at him

"I have something to confess---"

Steve was cut off by El who was in pain and grunting in the floor.. They all ran to her aid and helped her with the pain she was going through.. Steve slightly curses at himself, maybe this was not a great time for a love confession.. He needed to focus on surviving this hellish adventure.. Again

It finally ended.. Y/N was relieved, it was over.. They were safe, Y/N and Dustin were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket around them as they hug each other..

"If this shit happens again, we're moving.." Y/N jokes.. Dustin chuckled, maybe they should.. However, the adventures were growing more fun and dangerous..

"Nah, we love being heroes.."

Y/N laughs as she held her brother tighter, she fixed his hair and wipe some dirt off his face.. Even if he's old now, he'll always be Y/N's baby brother.. She smiled at the memory of Suzie and Dustin singing in the middle of mayhem and chaos.

"Stooop, I'm all grown up now!" He stood up and made his way to his friends..

"Don't get too far, lover boy!" Y/N shouted causing Dustin's cheek to blush..

Y/N sighs at the sight of her brother walking away from her, this is the last time she'll save the world, she was tired of monsters.. Y/N was just enjoying the cold air of the night when someone cleared their throat.

"Hello to you Harrington.." Y/N smiled at Steve, he was just standing infront of her.. Y/N can't help but feel giddy when Steve's in his sailor outfit.. It saddens her that Steve was still stuck in his highschool mindset..

"I have something to tell you.." Steve mumbles incoherently, but Y/N understood it.. Steve was always nervous when Y/N's around, he remember the first time he saw Y/N..

Steve saw Dustin on the street asking for help, and he didn't believe at him first but he was soon convinced by how Dustin was nervous and scared.. They pulled up at the Henderson's residence, that's where he first saw--no that's not the right word..

That's where he first acknowledged Y/N..

She was sitting on the porch steps on her pajama's, there were dirt on her face and her hairs a mess.. Y/N's face lighten up when he saw Dustin getting out of the car..

"Hey Dus------What is he doing here?" Y/N's face dropped when he saw Steve also getting out of the car.

"He's our back up.." Her brother answered short and continue walking into the entrance of the basement.

"I'm back up..'' Steve said cocky at Y/N, she just scoffs and followed Dustin..

"For a guy with a black eye, you're awfully confident.."

"That's what seeing a pretty girl like you does to me.." Steve didn't know what he ate that time but he had this whole new confidence when he started talking to Y/N.. However, Y/N didn't seem impressed to his corny jokes and pick up lines, she was always scoffing and rolling her eyes..

"Yeah, you said that too when we were inside..That" Y/N's voice pulled him back to the present.. Y/N gestured at the burning mall infront of them.

"Yeah.." Steve cleared his throat, he opens his mouth, but the words won't come out he's chokin', how, everybody's jokin' now, the clocks run out, times up, over, blaow .

"Are you gonna say something?" Y/N was starting to get nervous, did she do something to make Steve act strange? He was shaking, the sweat on his forehead is flowing like the Niagara Falls.. That's not attractive yet for some reason she found it hot..

"Oh--Yeah--Uhh.." He failed to say words again, why can't he just go straight to the point?

Robin who was with the rest of the party was staring at a stuttering and nervous Steve.. The rest started to notice even Jonathan and Nancy who was in each others arms..

"When is he gonna tell my sister that he likes her?" Dustin ponder as he stares at the two..

"I don't know, he's taking forever just uttering one sentence.." Lucas pitched in making the others laugh..

"I thought Steve was a suave and cool guy?" Mike jokes causing some of them to laugh, some was just quiet.. They were still having a hard time grasping all of this, especially Max..

"He's a nerd just like you guys.." Nancy answered, they all shake their heads as they watch Steve nervously fidgets..

"Alright, I finally had enough.." Robin whispers, the party turned to Robin, carefulky watching to what she had under her sleeves..

"HEY Y/N!" Robin shouts..

Y/N broke her gaze with Steve and brought it to a shouting Robin, not far from them.. Steve just froze to his place, panic started blaring out through his mind..

"WHAT STEVE'S TRYING TO SAY IS HE FREAKING LIKES YOU!" Robin shouted, and it all made them freeze.. Y/N blinked rapidly, did she hear that right? Steve l-likes her? What? When? How? Where?

Steve felt embarrased, he wanted the crawl in a hole and die.. Robin was dead to him, how could she do that? Now Y/N's gonna start to avoid him, she obviously doesn't like her back.

"I-Is that true?" Y/N finally asked the question she was dying to ask, she never really thought about Steve that way.. Fine, she's not gonna lie, there were some thoughts about Steve that kept her up at night..

"I can explain--If you don't feel the same it's totally fi----" Steve panicked and randomly said any excuses he can think off, not giving Y/N a chance to speak..

Y/N rolled her eyes at how Steve was rambling on, she smiled and stands up.. Pulling Steve sailor outfit, she kissed him..

Steve pressed his lips harder on Y/N, he wanted this kiss to happen since he first saw her.. And now it's happening, Y/N puts her arm around Steve's neck.. This was her first kiss and she was glad that it was to Steve.. They both kissed as the burning Star Court crumbles infront of them. Y/N didn't knew that you can find love and monsters in this terrifying situation..

Dustin groaned at the sight of her sister and bestfriend kissing, he wanted to vomit and scoop his eyes out.. This was not a sight for sore eyes..

"Ugh!I don't want to watch my sister exchange salivas with Harrington!" Dustin sigh under his breath

"Get used to it, you'll be seeing a lot of him.." Robin teased making Dustin die inside.

"Dammit!"

Y/N was just thinking that some people lost someone special, Eleven lost Hopper.. Max lost Billy and the rest will wake up in the morning with terrible memories haunting them everyday, they can no longer feel the assurance that they're safe in the quiet town they grew up to. They knew everything that lies withing the depths of this ground, all the horrible things that Hawkin Labs brought.. Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove died for them, they were heroes.. And the sad part is, no one will ever know.. Those who deserves to be recognized is no longer here, the heroine act they did save the world yet the world doesn't even know about them.. But Y/N and the rest knows that the sacrifices they made won't go to waste, they'll do everything in their power to keep whatever haunts this eerie town at bay.

I found this highly nice but cringey at the same time so bear with it, I also wanted to update my series about James Potter but I just can't seem to end it ughhhhh..Anyways, I hope you guys like this one..

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

LIGHTWOOD BANES WEEK - ALEC & RAFE

“All good?” Alec knocked on the door.

He sounded calm - but only because he tried his best not to sound as excited as felt. He had been waiting for this day for quite a long time and he couldn’t believe it was all happening.

There was no response from the other side so Alec knocked again. No response. Maybe Rafe had overslept. Alec did notice that the light in the room hadn't gone out till early morning.

“Alright, I am coming in,” Alec said and gently pushed the door open.

He saw his son sitting on the bed, still in his purple pyjamas, hugging his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes to the floor and avoided Alec’s worried gaze. Alec didn't know what was wrong but he wished Magnus was here - he would know how to deal with this.

His way of dealing with it would of course to make an ill timed joke. Maybe Alec should try that.

“I know your bapa taught you that being fashionably late is cool,” Alec said with a grin. “But you can't be late to your own rune ceremony, buddy.”

Rafe looked up with an incredulous look on his face, he seemed a little exasperated. Alright maybe Alec wasn't the funny dad. So he tried to use his own tactics.

He knelt down in front his son and scanned Rafe’s face. “I know it is a little scary to get your first rune, but it doesn't hurt as much as you think, I promise. You are a shadowhunter. You will get used to it.”

Rafe looked away.

“What if I didn't want to be a shadowhunter?”

Something in Alec’s heart stopped or broke or burst into a million pieces. He wasn't sure and it didn't matter. He wasn't concerned by the heart inside his body. He was concerned about the little heart in front of him.

“Rafael,” Alec said softly. “What's wrong?”

The boy took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I am not just any shadowhunter, am I?”

Alec cocked his head in confusion.

“I am not just any shadowhunter,” Rafael repeated. “I am a Lightwood.”

Alec couldn’t help but smile a little at that and put his hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “Yes. Yes, you are. You’re a Lightwood.”

Rafael pushed it away. “But I am not, aren't I?”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked, genuinely confused.

“I am both a Lightwood and I am not,” Rafael explained frustratedly.

“Rafe, wha-”

“I am the son of the Consul, a hero of the Dark War and the founder of the Shadowhunter Downworlder Alliance,” Rafael said as if he was reciting a practiced speech.

Alec would have blushed in any other situation but right now he was only worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Rafe shook his head. “You did everything right and I...I am just worried that I won't.”

“Rafael,” Alec sighed. “You are not me. You don't have to do what I did or do.”

“But it isn't just about you,” Rafael bit his lip. “It’s all of you. Every single one. Aunt Izzy is one of the best fighters in the world. Abuelo was the freaking inquisitor and Uncle Jace...Well, he is Uncle Jace.”

Alec didn't know what to do. In this head, he heard Magnus’s voice when he spoke to Max when their blueberry got too stressed during their magic lessons.

“Smell the flowers and blow the candles,” Magnus would tell their son.

Alec took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“Do you want me to tell you that you are going to be great just like all of us?” Alec asked, even though he knew the answer.

“No, I don't want you do that,” Rafael said stubbornly. “Because I know I won't be.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because I am not a Lightwood, dad,” Rafael almost shouted. “Not really. I am just..I am just some boy you found in the streets. So whatever genes that make you the rest of you amazing and awesome and cool and perfect - it’s not gonna work for me.”

Alec stared at his son then. Rafael's body was hunched as if he was protecting himself from everything the world was going through at him after today.

It wasn't easy being a shadowhunter - and it definitely wasn't easy being a Lightwood.

Rafael looked at him in the eye then, his lips wobbling a little. “I am scared I won't be good enough.”

He looked at those tiny little shoulders and realized the amount of pressure that sat on them. Alec had once been worried about not being able to fill the shoes of his ancestors - of not being able to bring his parents glory. He had been terrified of not being good enough to bear his family name. The Lightwood name.

Now his son was feeling the very same. Alec wondered whether all shadowhunters felt this way at one point or another.

“Listen,” Alec said gently. “Izzy is the best at what she does because she trains every single day. Not because she is a Lightwood. Yes, my dad was the inquisitor but he wasn't perfect. Lightwoods make mistakes too. And regardless of whether he is a Lightwood or a Herondale or Wayland, Uncle Jace is Uncle Jace not because he was born to be that person but because he choose to be. And I...I might be the Consul but I was a scared little boy for a long time too.”

Rafael still looked unconvinced and frustrated and stubborn.

“I am not going to say your last name doesn't matter. It does and it always will. We are treated differently than others because of our last name. We have been given chances and opportunities because of our last name.”

“Your tutor,” Raphael said weakly. “He was punished worse...”

Magnus and Alec had decided long ago that it was imperative for their children to know their history - all of it and from all sides.

“He got the worst of it and my parents didn't - because they are Lightwoods,” Alec admitted.

Alec looked at his son and spoke in a tone that Magnus often called his ‘Consul voice’.

“It is an honour to be a Lightwood. Our name has power and privilege,” Alec told his son. “But it is also a responsibility.”

Rafael nodded meekly. “I am responsible to uphold our family name?” his son asked in a quiet tone.

“No,” Alec said. “You are responsible to use this power and privilege to help those who don't have it.”

Rafael looked up then.

“You are not wrong to be afraid, Rafe. You are a smart kid and you are right. People will see you differently and hold you accountable to higher standards. I know it's not fair. Sometimes it can be difficult. People will always expect you to be a certain way because of your last name or your gender or your race or so many other things...But you need to be true to yourself. That’s what it means to be a Lightwood.”

Rafael sat up straight, listening intently now.

“Your mandate as a shadowhunter is to defend what is good and protect what is innocent,” Alec said firmly. “But your mandate as a Lightwood is to fight for yourself.”

“Like you did?” Rafe asked, his lips curving, just a little.

“And like so many others before,” Alec smiled. “Some day soon, your bapa will tell you about other Lightwoods who fought for themselves - Christopher and Anna and Thomas and so many others.”

Rafael actually smiled then - he always liked listening to his bapa’s stories.

“If you don't want to be a shadowhunter, then we will not force you,” Alec said seriously now. “All we want is for you to be happy. To be yourself.”

“I do want to be a shadowhunter,” Rafael confessed in a whisper. “I am just...scared. I am scared that I won't be good enough. I am scared that people will think I am not good enough.”

“As was I, Rafe,” Alec said softly, rubbing his son’s cheek. “I sometimes still feel like I am not good enough. When you feel that way, just give your best shot and remember that it is more than enough. It doesn't matter what other people think or say. That’s one more Lightwood trait for you. We don't let other people tell us who we are. We decide it for ourselves.”

“But I do care about what you think," Rafael said in a small voice. "Do you think I'm gonna be a good shadowhunter?”

“100%," Alec said without hesitation.

“How do you know?” Rafe asked skeptically.

“Because you are not even a shadowhunter yet and you are already trying to figure out how to be a good one,” Alec laughed. “A good fighter is always prepared. You are going to be just fine.”

“Because my last name is Lightwood?” Rafael teased.

“Because your last name is Lightwood-Bane,” Alec corrected with a grin. “Now I know there aren't many Banes and I myself know only one. But he is the best man I know.”

“He is the best I man I know too,” Rafe grinned. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Alec grinned back.

“Okay then,” Rafael hopped off the bed and walked towards his closet - which was larger than Alec’s own. “Let’s get dressed for my big day.”

“I am afraid my amazing, awesome, cool and perfect Lightwood genes are not going to be very helpful here,” Alec ruffled his son’s hair.

Rafael giggled as he excitedly picked a red shirt from his closet. Alec looked at his son and walked back and knelt down again.

“I just want you to remember one thing,” Alec stared into his son’s eyes. “You were never just some boy found in the streets. I knew you were mine the moment I saw you. I knew you were my baby even then.”

“I know, dad,” Rafael replied shyly.

“No matter what anyone says, you are a Lightwood and you will always be my son.”

Rafael put his arms around his neck and hugged Alec tightly. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alec kissed the top of his head and walked back to the door. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Your Consul commands it.”

“Boludo,” he heard his son chuckle and Alec couldn't help but chuckle himself.

#this is an edited repost but I AM LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR #alec lightwood #rafael lightwood bane #dani writes stuff #lightwood bane family #lightwood banes week #malec month

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Afterglow - Part 6

A/N: Honey Bee finally made the smartest decision of her life in the last chapter and now...time to deal with the fallout. Thank you guys for supporting and loving this story too! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: None

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Spitting out the toothpaste into the sink, you groaned slightly when you realized that you had left your mouthwash back on your desk. Tilting your head under the tap, you got a mouthful of water and swished it around in your mouth, trying to get the last bits of toothpaste out.

When you were satisfied with the lackluster brushing, you quickly splashed some cold water onto your face to wake yourself up. But it was no use - you still looked as tired and dragged out as you felt. There were dark circles under your eyes, your lips were chapped and cracked, and the joy you normally held in your eyes was all but gone. You had been going through the motions for the last three, feeling more like an empty shell than anything else.

But you felt liberated - free. More so than you had in a long time. That in itself made your current struggle worth it.

Grabbing your toothpaste, toothbrush, and hairbrush, you stalked out of the bathroom, ready to slink back to your office before anyone else arrived.

Looking furtively around the hall, you walked the short distance to your own office, almost making it to safety when you heard your name being called softly. Groaning inwardly, you cleared your throat and turned around, plastering on the best smile you could.

"Ally," you said softly, "y-you're here early!"

"I was just thinking the same thing," she joked, and while you could tell she meant no harm, it still caused you to panic slightly. She was well aware of you calling off your engagement, hell the whole world seemed to know, but she never seemed to pity you for it. Her eyes flicked to the items in your hands as a warmth crept into your chest and blossomed over your whole face, "I'm meeting a client early this morning because it was the only thing that fit into his schedule. Are you..."

You remained silent for a moment, hanging your head before letting out a long sigh, "look, I've just been staying here since things ended with Chad. I'm trying to find my own place, but its been a bit of a difficult go. Turns that a lot of people don't want to rent to you if you happen to have supposedly wronged Chad Williams. It seems like everyone knows him."

She reached out and gave your shoulder a soft, reassuring squeeze. Meeting her eyes, you found a small smile on her face, luckily not one of pity, "I'm sorry he's making things miserable still. I'm guessing your parents are out of the question?"

"Absolutely not an option," you admitted with a stiff laugh, "my mom seemed okay at first but she and my father quickly came to the conclusion that I was in the wrong and making a horrible mistake. They insisted I was just going through a phase because of nerves. When I told them I was sure about my decision and wasn’t going back, they all but...disowned me. Imagine the shame I’ve brought upon them in their minds...they’re so old fashioned. Maybe they’ll come around one day.”

"Yikes," she said as you nodded, "can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I never liked him," she admitted softly, causing you to almost give yourself whiplash as you looked over at her, "there was just something about him that was off. I think - I know, you can do so much better."

"Thank you," you said as you laughed lightly, trying to hold the tears that threatened to well up at bay, "I hope so too."

"I mean it," she insisted, "you're kind, smart, pretty, and you've got a good heart. What more could anyone ask for?"

"Apparently a dutiful, quiet little wife..."

"Very funny," she teased, "why don't you come and stay with us? While you get your own place? We've got an extra bedroom that's not being used, and it's much better than staying here. Have you been sleeping on your hard old couch?”

"Yes..."

"Absolutely not," she shook her head, "come over when you're done for the day. We'll get the room ready for you. Anna will be happy to see you again too. And you know what, it's not an option, its a demand. Just come over tonight and we'll get you settled. I'll have Anna pick up some wine for dinner and everything."

"Ally, you're much too kind..." you said as her phone stared to ring. She looked at the screen and a big smile spread across her visage as her wife's name popped up on the screen.

"Speak of the devil," she laughed lightly, "tonight! No if, ands, or buts!"

You could only nod as she walked away, chattering excitedly as she went to her own office. Before stepping in and closing the door, she gave you a grin and wave that was enough to cause a single tear to roll down your cheek. It had been weeks since anyone had even shown you an ounce of kindness; most people had decided to scorn you instead, blaming you for everything that had happened. Wiping the warm drop away, you stepped foot into your own office, stashing your toiletries away for what you hoped would be the last time. Hopefully that everything you'd finally be able to have a proper, long, hot shower and sleep in a bed, two luxuries that you had been greatly missing.

Pulling out a dress from the small wardrobe, you slipped it on, vowing to stop your little pity party. Sure, things weren't ideal right now, but you were still so much better off than others. That was something you did not take for granted.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Men really can be the worst,” Anna laughed, almost snorting into her wine as you held up your glass in a mock salute, “can you imagine being that pathetic and trying to sabotage someone you supposedly loved? I think it speaks volumes to his character.”

“The longer we were together, the more I realized that it was never about love, even if that’s how it started out. It was always about appearances and trying to please everyone else. It was getting so tiring.”

“I can only imagine,” Ally gave her your leg a small pat as you downed the rest of your glass, “but at least you’re free now. It’s easy to fall into routine and not realize how unhappy we’ve become. We get used to just staying on one path. Usually it takes something big to make us realize what we’re doing isn’t what we wanted in the first place.”

“Okay Dr. Ally,” Anna teased her wife, “we’re not at the office. But I agree...I am curious, and happy, as to what caused you to realize that you deserve more.”

You felt the blood draining from your face almost immediately as you swallowed nervously, mouth dry. You weren’t about to delve into the memories and dreams that had been plaguing you over the weeks, becoming increasingly more frequent the closer your former wedding date had approached. Frankly, you hadn’t even admitted that to yourself yet, not out loud anyway.

How were you supposed to tell yourself, let anyone else, that the reason you realized you deserved was better because you’d been dreaming of your high school boyfriend again? It had been twenty years, twenty long years without him - there was no reason you should have even given him a second thought. Yet...here you were. Still hung up on Frankie Morales, the boy that had earned your heart...and then brought it into a million pieces. You knew, you would be the first to admit, that it wasn’t all his fault, that you were to blame to an extent as well, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Ever since the day that you had run into him again, a day that should have been like any other, he’d been living rent free in your mind. Even if you hated him, even if you were still mad at him after all this time. You couldn’t help but wonder - what if. What if.

What if he had come to California with you and you’d both stayed there? What if you had waited for him while you went to school and he was in the military? What if he’d come back to you long ago? Would you still be together? Would you be married to him? Would you have a daughter or son that took on both of your best qualities? Or would you have eventually fallen out and broken up anyway, only to loathe each with every fiber of your being? Would you have stayed together?”

What if. What if. What if.

It was that haunted you for so long now.

“Umm,” you snapped back into reality and pushed the thought of the boy you had loved out of your mind. You set the glass back down and made a small, noncommittal sound, “it was just a lot of things. The more real things became with the wedding planning the more I realized that I didn’t want this. It was at my last dress fitting actually, that I realized I couldn’t do it.”

“That must have been quite a wake up call,” Anna’s eyes widened as she imagined the scene as you nodded, taking the almost empty bottle of wine and pouring the remainder into your class.

“It was,” you admitted with a long sigh, “you should have been the poor dress maker. I almost ran out on her. But you know, even though things are far from perfect right now, I would still do it all again.”

“Cheers to that,” Ally held up her class, and the two of you clinked yours against it, “now to bigger and better things. You can, and will, do so much better.”

“Thank you both,” just being in their presence, let alone their home, had you feeling infinitely better, “I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.”

“What are friends for?”

“I, however, do have some more good news,” Anna was proud of herself as the two of your gave her an inquisitive look, “I spoke to my friend who is a realtor today, no connection to Chad or anything, and he said he has a perfect little house available! It’s a little on the outskirts of town, a small, quiet neighborhood, but that it would be perfect for you. It’s not big, just a little two bedroom, one bath, but it’s all been redone recently, and it’s quaint. He showed me some pictures and I think you’d really like it.”

“You did...you did this for me?” you felt another wave of tears sting at the back of your eyes as she nodded.

“I’m not trying to push this on you at all, or anything of the sort,” she promised, “but we were talking and it just came up and I thought of you. I thought I’d just tell you in case you were interested...you are, of course, welcome to stay with us however long you want.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” you said softly, “truly. I’d love to see the place. If you like, I’m sure it’ll be great. And honestly, it would be nice to get out of the city and be a little bit out of the way and I don’t need anything much. I just want a place that will feel like home...my own place.”

“Obviously it comes with the stipulation that we will get to help decorate and pick out furniture if you move into it.”

“I would expect nothing less,” you agreed, “it’s going to be nice getting my own things and having it be truly mine.”

“A fresh start,” she agreed, “I’ll tell Elijah that we’ll stop by tomorrow and take a look? How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you agreed, feeling your heart finally feel warm again, as a wave of calm washed over you, “absolutely perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of moving, although you technically didn’t have much to move, furniture shopping, unpacking, and organizing your new home.

The house was cute, an older little home that had been recently renovated with a small yard and a perfect spot for a garden. You could already picture yourself gardening once the cooler autumn and winter months were over.

It wasn’t huge, but it had a spare bedroom you decided would serve as a home office and occasional guest room, although you figured you weren’t going to have many of those considering how easily everyone had cut you off. It was open, warm, and inviting, and it was perfect for what you wanted. It had brought up the idea of maybe adopting a dog or cat to keep as your friend. It had made you think of something that Frankie always said: anyone who wasn’t willing to share their home with an animal was as good as heartless.

It served as a sharp contrast to your former living situation; everything in the apartment you had shared with Chad had been cold, dark, and minimalistic. Nothing about it had ever felt truly homey, more like an ornate display at an art museum you were afraid to even look at. Chad had never wanted an animal of any sorts, not even a goldfish, claiming that it would take up too much time, too much space, and he just didn’t want something to take care of.

But your new home was the polar opposite, it was romantic and airy and filled with items and trinkets that made it feel like a home. A little animal friend would fit in perfectly. You were fitting in perfectly already.

You’d even made it a point to go around the neighborhood and introduce yourself to people. Your justification was that you had literally nothing to lose, your family had turned their backs on you, your ex-fiance had taken almost all of the so called friends you’d had, and were left to your own devices. In the worst case scenario, you’d have met a few unsavory people, and in the best case scenario you’d get to know your neighbors and maybe make a few friends.

Something in the stars seemed to align, as your neighbors turned out to be kind and welcoming, and you were sure the cookies you offered them weren't a deterrent either. They were mostly either older couples, or small families, a few roommates that lived together. The normalcy of it all was endearing, and to know that you had a place that you were welcome was enough to let your heart rest easy.

The only mystery that remained was your next door neighbor, the one on your left side. Whoever it was had been missing, gone or something, since you’d moved in several weeks before. While trying to maintain a respectful distance, you’d kept an eye on the house to see if you could spy anyone coming or going, see a car...something. But you never did - not even seen so much as a porch light flicker on. It seemed odd, especially in this neighborhood.

One afternoon, in the middle of unpacking the new bits of furniture for your living room and rearranging everything for about the tenth time, curiosity got the better of you. Maybe it was because you were in the middle of watching some true crime documentaries as you worked but you just felt...nervous. You were concerned about the health and safety of this mysterious neighbor that you hadn’t even met. You’d hastily wiped the sweat from your brow before rushing over to the neighbor on the other side of the seemingly nonexistent neighbor.

Unfortunately, much to your chagrin, the other neighbor, an older widowed man by the name of Eddie, who happened to have an adorable dog that you decided you’d offer to take on walks, was just as clueless as you.

He said he’d seen the man, at least you narrowed it down to that much, come on and go on occasion, but that he kept odd hours. He commented that he must have worked evenings or something, because he wasn’t around much at that time and it was always quiet during the day. Apparently it wasn’t odd for him to be gone for days at a time, or at least for no one to notice him. At least he’d be a quiet neighbor if he ever appeared again. But the older man hadn’t seemed too concerned, so figured there was nothing to worry about. You ended finding out that he was likely around your age, with dark hair. That was about all that Eddie knew; he said the man whose name he couldn’t even remember had always kept to himself since he’d moved in a few years ago.

You’d thanked him, given the small fluffy dog a few pets and trudged back to your own place, arms filled with various baked goods, including a delicious smelling loaf of banana bread. Eddie had proudly declared that he had taken up the hobby of baking in his retirement and he always had been plenty to share. You made a mental note to store that little piece of info away for future use.

And yet still, even as more days passed, you still didn’t see hide nor hair of the mystery man. You’d gone to work each morning, wondering if maybe you just missed him and you had conflicting schedules. You didn’t know why you even cared so much, or what drew you to solving this mystery, but you were just inexplicably invested.

One evening, as you were watching some Netflix and unwinding with a glass of wine, browsing the adoptable animals at the local shelter, it hit you. It was like the proverbial lightbulb had been switched on and you came up with a brilliant idea. When you’d moved in, you’d taken some fresh, homemade cookies to everyone in the small cul-de-sac - why didn’t you just make some for him?

It was brilliant, you thought to yourself as you set the wine glass down and almost tossed your laptop to the floor in excitement. You would make your favorite cookies, soft, gooey chocolate chip ones you fancied so much, get them all safely in a container and drop them off when you felt for work in the morning. If they were gone by the time you came home that would mean he had to have been there.

Yes, you thought to yourself, this is brilliant. No one could turn down a plate of fresh cookies.

So you’d spent the rest of the evening, bouncing around the kitchen excitedly, pouring your heart and soul into the every little step it took to make the perfect treat. By the time you’d gone to bed, excited and worn out, the little package was sitting on your counter for your to grab on your way out. This was going to be it, you just knew it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You woke up early the next morning, even before your alarm went off, a smile on your face despite being tired. You almost stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that this was the first, the first time in what felt like a small eternity that you woke up like that. It was a good feeling, and you hoped that you would be able to hang onto it.

Once you’d showered and done up your makeup and hair to your liking, you slipped on a pretty golden dress. It always made you feel pretty, the color bringing a slight bit of joy into your heart. You always felt confident and good in it, and you decided it was just what you needed. If your last session ended early enough, you even planned on stopping by the animal shelter to see if you made a connection with any of the adoptable animals. It was going to be a good day. You could feel it in your bones.

Once you were ready to go, you grabbed your pre-packed lunch from the fridge, along with your purse and the package for your mystery neighbor. Almost flouncing over to his porch because you were buzzing with energy, you hopped up the steps and set it on the front porch and center, in the middle of the doormat, topped off with a handwritten note introducing yourself. The mat was a generic one, and you did a little look around to see if you could find a name or any personal touches around the porch. But there was nothing - no clue as to who it could be. It was no matter, you told yourself, you would have your answers soon enough.

Giving the neatly wrapped container one last fond look, you headed to your car and off to work. Hopefully you’d be busy enough to keep your mind occupied. It was silly to get so invested in something so trivial and yet...here you were. An eternal dreamer and optimist at heart, just like you always had been, even as a teenager. Even if you had to suppress that side of yourself for some time, more so with each passing year, you were still the same girl underneath it all.

The day felt like it had like it went by in a blur as you saw several of your regular patients, feeling like you were finally able to help them properly and give them your undivided attention. It went so well that you did manage to finish up early, which meant you could have your fun and go look at animals. You knew it would be a challenge to meet different pets and not be able to take them all home, but you were willing to give it the old college try.

You hadn’t bothered to stop home and change, opting to go straight to the shelter.

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you'd gotten there and started looking at the different dogs, you knew it would be hard.

So many of the sweet dogs came up to you, some wagging their tails in nervous excitement, some just beside themselves, but others were more reluctant, sitting and observing you. You went up to as many as you could, keeping a respectful distance from them and offering them your hand to sniff. A couple of them give you a few licks, letting you reach in and pet them, but getting distracted as soon as they spied other people. Sweet dogs, all of them, but those weren’t the ones for you. As you walked through the various dogs, you were disheartened to find that you didn’t seem to have a connection to any of them. You hoped they would go to good homes soon regardless. Maybe it wasn’t your day to find a companion, which was totally okay with you. You’d just come back some other day and make sure that one of them got a home in your adobe.

But as you neared the end of the last row, you stopped when you spotted a small dog, small for being a pitbull that was, sitting in the corner of her kennel, a sad, dejected look on her face. She was a pretty thing, light tan with white marking on her sweet face, but her eyes contained a deep sadness.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you said softly as you didn’t even hesitate to drop to your knees, dropping on the floor of the kennel, sliding a few fingers under the barrier keeping you from her, trying to coax her to you. She observed you with keen interest, but remained rooted in her spot, “you are so pretty! I bet you’re just as sweet too, aren’t you? I can tell…”

“She’s very sweet,” one of the shelter’s volunteers, a young boy by the name of Lucas that had let you in, said as he walked up to you, “but she’s really shy. She’s less than a year old, but she’s already had a go of it.”

“What happened to her?” you asked gently, keeping your voice down so you wouldn’t startle her, “she looks so sad.”

“She was abused by her former owner, sadly. They found her when they went to raid the owner’s home, apparently he was a small time drug dealer on top of it,” he explained and you made a small in the back of your throat as you just looked at her. It made your heart break to know that this poor animal, and so many others like her, were being abused for no reason - not that anyone, person or animal, should ever have been abused, “it’s made her shy, but she does warm up to people.”

“What’s her name?” you asked as she moved ever so marginally closer to you. You smiled at her, giving her an encouraging little nod.

“Daisy.”

“Daisy,” you called softly as her ears perked up slightly. It suited her, you decided, a soft pretty name for a pretty girl, “hi sweet Daisy. You are a big lovebug underneath it all, aren’t you?”

She turned her slightly to look at as you offered her a small, reassuring nod.

“How about Miss Daisy Mae?” you asked her and you got a glimpse of her tail wagging ever so slightly, “yeah, I think that’s perfect too. May I pet you?”

It was silent, completely so sans for the other dogs in their kennels as you attempted to gain her trust. You didn’t want to scare her off, but you wanted to see if you could get her to come closer. Lucas told you could stay as long as you wanted, and you decided that you would do just that, plopping onto your bottom as you gently spoke to her. You spent some time sitting there, talking to her about anything and everything, and slowly, inch by precious inch, she came closer to you until she was just a few inches from your hand. When you moved your hand and she didn’t flinch, you gently petted her muzzle, tracing over it delicately with a few fingers.

“You’ve been through a lot,” you mused quietly and she gently rubbed her head into your hand, “but you’ve got so much life left to live. So many happy things to come. Would you like to come home with me and see? I have a big bed that I have all to myself, and I could really use a companion to take up some of the space. Would you like to help me?”

She made a small sound as she looked up at you, her tail wagging ever so slightly. That was enough to convince you that you were making the right decision. Giving Daisy one last gentle touch, you slowly pulled your hand back to keep from startling her and jumped to your feet. She was yours, it hadn’t taken much to figure that out, and you were going to make sure she came home with you.

Telling her you would be back in a little bit, you went off in search of Lucas, to tell him to get you all the paperwork so you could bring her home with that day.

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as Daisy was all yours, you’d set her up in your car, draping a big, soft blanket over the backseat for her. You were glad you kept one in your car for whatever occasion called for it; this was the perfect time. As soon as she seemed to realize what was happening, Daisy’s eyes had lit up and she already seemed like a different dog, her tail going softly, but nonstop as she stayed close to your side.

You’d stopped by the pet store on your way home, bringing her in with you as you stocked up on the best dog food, treats, several big fluffy beds (one for each room of the house naturally), and let her pick out several toys. Whatever she wanted she got, honestly, and before you knew it before pushing a huge cartful to the counter to the pay. Daisy, now in a pretty yellow collar and leash, followed closely by your side, a little stuffed bear in her mouth. This felt so right, so natural, almost like you had meant to find her. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had felt this much joy in your heart, and you hoped the feeling would never go away.

“And this is where we live,” you told her as you pulled into the driveway, pulling up to the garage and turning off the car. She stood up and went to the window, looking out eagerly. Your break broke a little when you realize she probably never got to run and play like any puppy should, but you vowed to change that. You got and opened the door, not even bothering to stop her as she jumped out and started to sniff everywhere.

Sighing contentedly at the sight of the happy dog, the one that had quickly turned from nervous to optimistic, you started to gather everything out of the car to bring inside. Daisy came back to your side, following you with keen attention as you opened the door to the house and let her explore.

It wasn’t until your last excursion to the car to bring in the last of the toys, that your attention wandered back to your MIA neighbor. When you studied his house, you noticed that all the lights were off, and there was no car in the driveway. The package you had you left for him was still right where you had placed that morning. A small, dejected sigh left your lips as you quickly dashed over and retrieved the package. It was only slightly heartbreaking, but you knew it wasn’t due to any fault of yours. But still...you couldn’t help but wonder. Who was he? Where was he? Maybe one day your questions would be answered, but at least for now you had your new friend to keep you company. Just as you thought about her, you heard a small, almost tiny bark from your door as Daisy poked her head out and looked excitedly at you.

“Coming sweet girl!” you promised her as you ran back over to her. This day was decidedly not a waste in the slightest, you reminded yourself, you had a new friend and that was more important than anything else.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Several more days passed, and Daisy adjusted to life with you without a hitch. She really was the sweetest girl you had met, and she had won a big spot in your heart, and bed, almost instantly. Gone were the cookies you had baked for the neighbor you thought might not actually exist, eaten with some milk as you watched Netflix late into the evening with Daisy snoozing next to you.

Something though, whatever little stubborn streak you had, told you to keep trying.

So you did.

That night you dragged yourself back to the kitchen and repeated the painstaking process of making your now neighborhood famous cookies again. He was going to get these cookies come hell or high water. This time Daisy joined you in the kitchen and watched your every move intently, as you walked her through the process, giving her your best impression of some lofty Food Network chef.

Just as you had previously done earlier in the week, you prepped everything and stuck the same note on the top, making sure it looked perfect. Even if it ended up as another batch that you would eat, you wanted to go through the efforts and ensure it was perfect.

The next morning, you herded Daisy into the car, allowing her to come to your office with you. She had been enjoying coming to your office and greeting your clients, being a good girl and laying on her bed while you worked. Many of them seemed to find her comforting, and as thought she could sense when they needed something, which she probably did, she’d often go to comfort them with wet kisses and nuzzles. Ally had suggested that you look into her having certified as a therapy dog, which you decided was a perfect idea.

You wandered over to his porch and left the little package again and turned to head off to work. Whatever was meant to happen would happen. So if he didn’t come and get the cookies, so be it. You’d stop worrying about it and let it go.

When you got home that evening, you brought everything inside and let Daisy into the backyard to roam around before her dinner time, when you looked through the front windows to try and see your neighbor’s porch. You huffed when you came to the conclusion that you were at just the wrong angle to be able to see anything. Stalking out the front door to get a better look, you sighed deeply when the package was once again there. What had you really expected? You’d struck out for weeks now, the man was an enigma to yourself and everyone else around, it was a far cry that you’d ever really see him.

Grumbling at yourself for being too hopeful and optimistic, you trudged over to his porch, ready to take the cookies back again and enjoy them for yourself. Maybe you could bring them, and Daisy, over to Eddie and see if he would enjoy them and the dogs would get along. It wasn’t terribly exciting, but it was something anyway.

You bent down to pick up the small container, ready to head back home and get on with your day. But just as you swooped up the container, you heard the door unlock, causing you to jump back in surprise, dropping the container and letting it clatter to the ground. You took a step back and looked up, finding the door open, but the screen closed. Squinting your eyes, you tried to make out the person on the other side but found it almost impossible.

“H-hi,” you stammered nervously, hoping the person wouldn’t think you were stealing or snooping around, “I-I moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago, and I was just...I made cookies! I was going to introduce myself but I hadn’t seen you or anything, so I figured I’d leave them for you. They-they’re not old though, I made this batch last night.”

Nothing but silence met your ears for several moments as you nervously picked up the container to display it for him. You were nervous suddenly, terrified that you had somehow offended him, or...something.

“I-I’ll get going,” you said as you set the cookies on the bench that was near the door. Unsure why you felt the need to keep speaking you gave him your name, letting it linger in the air for a moment, “I live right next door, so I guess maybe I will see you around. Yeah...well, umm...goodbye!”

But before you made it off the porch, you heard the screen door open, and swing shut. You swallowed the lump in your throat, ready to turn around and make a proper introduction when you heard your name whispered so quietly, that you thought you might have imagined it. That voice...that soft, gentle voice caused your heart to skip a few beats. You knew that voice.

Turning around slowly, you came face to face with the man that had been on your mind for weeks. You brought your eyes up to the man’s face and a small gasp of surprise left your lips.

“F-Frankie?” except this wasn’t the Frankie you’d known. No, this man was tired looking, nothing but sheer exhaustion on his face, dark circles, parched lips, no trace of facial hair, his hair flattened from what you knew was a signature hat. This was a different man, a world weary man, a man who you never intended on seeing again. But you knew that voice, you knew it so well, you’d recognize it anywhere, even after all this time. But there was something about him, how he was looking at you that broke our heart.

He remained silent as his dark eyes watched you, wondering how and why on earth you’d ended up as his neighbor. It was like some force was at play, some weird thing that kept bringing the two of you together.

He remained silent as the two of you looked at each other, his eyes quickly flicked to your left hand. You straightened up when you noticed that and got ready to walk away, unsure of how to feel in that moment. Once again, your life was thrown in a complete tailspin.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to find any words.

But before you could leave his porch, his hand went to your wrist, taking it gently in his large hand as you immediately turned around and gave him a wide eyed stare.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you looked at him in silent question, and he did the same.

This was Frankie - your Frankie. After all these years, he was still yours.

Before either of you could say anything, he gently grabbed your face and studied it for a moment before crashing his lips onto yours. It took a moment for you to react, and for a few beats before you kissed him back, not even having to think about it. But just as quickly as it had started you came to your senses and while part of you was screaming to continue to kiss him, the logical part of your brain took over and you pushed him away from you. Immediately realizing what you were doing, he let go of you and took a step back.

“Don’t,” you insisted sharply, your voice crackling on the singular word, “don’t. You don’t get to do that. I shouldn’t have done that. Not anymore. Never again.”

Before he could say anything, you dashed away from him, running back over to your house. This had to be some sort of weird dream, surely life couldn’t be throwing another challenge at you. Surely you’d been through enough.

Surely you weren’t neighbors, after all this time and years, with Frankie Morales.

Life couldn’t be that cruel...right?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

Lionheart

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Fem Reader

Request: “i can’t breathe” with cordelia?? “

A/N: so this prompt screamed ‘panic attack’ but GUESS WHAT?? I cannot write about panic attacks without having one myself so bear with me. This story was inspired by the scene in Apocalypse when Cordelia tells Michael she’s ready to help him if he’ll let her. Thank you anon for the request, and have a good time reading. x

Word count: ~ 5 500

Warnings: panic, anxiety, more or less accidental attempt at murder (idk what to call it)

You opened the door to the little antique shop and walked in with a happy spring in your step. The place was dimly lit and smelt of nag shampa. All kinds of objects were displayed on shelves nailed to the walls. In the middle of the room, more objects – colourful candles, statues carved in rosewood or kingwood or stone, dusty porcelain plates with a rim of gold – were randomly piled on top of each other or on small tables.

The shop had opened a few days ago and its window had drawn your eye. You were on your way back to Robichaux’s, where you had lived for the past five years. Life at the Academy was blissful. You had found yourself, finally embracing your being a witch; and then a few months later you had found love, and with it a new kind of happiness. Contentment you had read about in books but never thought could happen to you. Love had ripped fear and hatred off the world and painted it in softer colours: pink, yellow, brown, colours that reminded you of Cordelia. The constant weight in your heart had changed: it did not drag you down anymore, but supported you. It was not fear and loneliness you carried, but warmth and curiosity.

In the shop the woman behind the counter was scrutinizing you with attention. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue that reminded you of ocean depths. She wore a beautiful, intricate brooch in the form of a tree with the words ‘Anna Morgana’ – her name, probably – engraved on the trunk. A single red rose drooped in a vase on the counter in front of her.

You did not notice the strange look – half fear, half anger – that flashed on her face as you walked up to her.

“I know you”, the woman said as a greeting. “You’re one of the girls from Robichaux’s Academy.”

You beamed at her.

“I’m here to buy a gift for my Supreme,” you informed her happily.

Here it was again, that strange look, and this time you did notice it, but you didn’t think anything of it. The mention of witches – especially powerful ones – still made most people uncomfortable.

“Birthday?” the woman asked.

For a second you considered lying. Cordelia was adamant that you tell no one about your relationship, for she didn’t want the girls at the Academy to think she favoured you over them. But it wasn’t exactly a secret. Cordelia’s face had always been open, and you weren’t particularly good at hiding the joy that spread over your own every time your eyes met hers, every time someone mentioned her, every time the thought of her crossed your mind. Anyone who had spent more than five minutes with you and Cordelia knew you were in love. Most people were too polite to tell either of you how bad you were at hiding your feelings – except Madison, who seemed to think there was no greater joy in the world than to criticize “Foxxy” in front of you so that she could laugh at whatever new insult your “poor unimaginative brain” would come up with. But you didn’t mind Madison. She was a friend – an extremely annoying, unreliable friend, but a friend still. Movie nights with her were the best.

“Random act of kindness,” you told the woman, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible. “She works so hard for us,” you couldn’t help but add.

The woman curled up her lips and ran one hand through her dark, thick, curly hair. The bracelets that hang off her wrist jingled.

“Well, I could let you look around, but it would take hours. And I think I’ve got just the thing you need. Simple, but beautiful. Not too showy, elegant.”

She went through one of her drawers and drew out a small rectangular box. It contained a necklace – a thin silver chain, a curved bail, a round-shaped moonstone with a blue sheen in the middle. Your heart jumped at the sight. It was perfect for Cordelia.

“And look here!” the woman went on, her voice rising almost to a squeal. You were so lost in thoughts of Cordelia and how beautiful that necklace would look on her, that you did not notice the sudden shaking of the woman’s hands as she drew out another box. “I’ve got another one, exactly the same! So you can match.”

“I’ll take them both,” you beamed.

The woman looked incredibly nervous. She gave you a tight smile as you fumbled in your bag for your wallet.

“I like it,” you said, nodding to the rose in an attempt to help her relax. “Very Beauty and the Beast.”

You paid for the necklaces, then clasped one of them around your neck and stared at your reflection in a small mirror perched on top of a pile. Your fingers gingerly touched the stone. You flashed a grin at your reflection, then sang out “Goodbye!” to the woman. She didn’t say it back.

It was a beautiful spring day, the sun splayed out low in the sky, the air crisp, the branches of the trees overloaded with blooming flowers, but you didn’t linger. Your heart and mind were filled with Cordelia. She had been more tired than usual those past few days, what with the arrival of half a dozen new girls who were very young and very scared of their powers. And she had been bugged by a “weird, tingling feeling”, as she had confided to you two days ago, late in the evening, her head resting on your lap and your hand running through her hair: “I think a new witch might be in town. And I think she doesn’t know who she is. I can feel her confusion, her fear.” You had dropped a kiss on her forehead, offered to run her a bath, but she had let out a tired groan and sat up, rubbing her eyes as if she had a headache, and said she still had paperwork to go through.

It worried you, sometimes, how hard she worked. Too many nights you had had to drag her out of her office and tuck her in and kiss her until her faint protests had turned into sleepy giggles. You and Zoe and Queenie had offered, multiple times, to take over some of her classes, and she had relented after several refusals. As it had turned out, you were quite possibly one of the worst teachers on the planet. Cordelia had attended your first class, wanting to make sure she was not entrusting her girls to an incompetent fool – for the rest of that day you had been unable to meet her eyes, your face red with shame. When in the evening she had finally managed to corner you in an empty room she had burst into uncontrollable laughter, peppering your face with kisses, pausing to try and whisper an apology when she noticed the outraged look on your face. The word “sorry” did not make it out past the first syllable before she was doubled up with laughter, tears running down her flushed cheeks. So it had been decided that you should help Cordelia with daily matters and paperwork, and let Queenie and Zoe do the teaching.

The Academy was very quiet when you reached it, as most of the classes weren’t over yet. You did some cleaning in the kitchen, made yourself some tea, then decided to take a nap. There was approximately thirty minutes left before classes would end and Cordelia would take her usual evening break before dinner.

You ran up the stairs to your room, changed into more comfortable clothes, tip-toed to Cordelia’s room to steal one of her pillows, tip-toed back to your own room, and collapsed on your bed. Your fingers played with the chain of your new necklace, a goofy smile spreading over your face as you thought about the moment you would offer Cordelia her gift. Surely matching necklaces would not be too obvious. Friends did things like that all the time. You were sure to be teased by Madison, though. You lay on your right side, clutching Cordelia’s pillow against your chest and burying your face in it, and closed your eyes. You were not feeling particularly tired, but sleep soon overtook you.

You woke up a few minutes later with a jolt. Your heart was pounding in your ears and your chest was incredibly tight. You remembered when you were in junior high and a brute who kept bullying you because you were “too weird” had unceremoniously thrown you to the ground and decided it would be fun to sit on your chest. The boy was twice your size. He had laid both his hands on your shoulders, pressing your back into the cement, breathed in your face and flashed a cruel smile at you as he shifted his weigh to crush you. “I can’t breathe,” you had managed to get out, your hands coming up to smack weakly at his arms, “get off, I can’t –“

Now the feeling was exactly the same. There was a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as if a demon were sitting on it.

You abruptly sat up, panic shooting through your veins. Instinctively you reached out for Cordelia, for warmth and protection – your hand landed on the cold sheet.

You managed to hiss in a breath, desperately patting the mattress, your other hand coming up to press against your chest. Your arms were shaking. And the sitting position didn’t help. Your chest still felt like it was being crushed.

You threw back the cover, made to stand up, fell back on the bed as the room around you started to spin. Your ears were ringing and you could hear terrifying noises like that of a monster’s rough, raspy breathing in horror movies – your breathing, you realized in terror.

You had to get up. You had to get up and call for help before – on shaky legs you stumbled out of your room and into the empty corridor, leaning against the wall for support, and croaked out: “Delia,” but it was too weak, too low, the words flopped at your feet. The corridor was spinning so fast you could no longer tell where the ceiling was. Cold sweat coated your skin as you took a few steps forward, calling again, “Delia,” a pitiful sound, barely above a whisper.

Your gaze fell on the railing of the stairs. So close, just a few more steps – so far away, too far away.

You wheezed out a breath, tried to inhale. There was no air left in the corridor. Your hand closed around the collar of your shirt. You tried to call out, tripped on nothing, and passed out.

The first think you noticed when you came to was a hum of worried voices. Your head hurt too much for you to even consider opening your eyes. So you focused on the voices, tried to separate one from the others.

“Step back, Millie, step back! Girls, give her some space!”

This voice was too panicky for your liking. It made your heart speed up. But there was something familiar about this voice, something comforting, so when it faded back among the others you groaned, straining to focus on it again.

“Ooh shit, she’s alive,” said another voice, young and jaded.

“Y/N?” The panicked voice again, louder, clearer. Something hot on your face. You let out another groan. “Y/N, can you hear me? Open your eyes for me.”

Now, that you would not do. You were pretty sure if you let the light in your skull would crack.

“Y/N, please.” The voice broke, and something in your heart broke with it. “Please, please sweetheart, come back to me.”

The thing in your heart that had broken kicked and ordered you to obey. There was no way, your heart screamed, no way you would lie here and do nothing to comfort her when she sounded that terrified.

Your eyes fluttered open. A blurry shape was leaning over you, golden on the edges, with two dark spots in the middle.

“Hey,” the voice called shakily, “that’s it, that’s it, you’re doing so good, look at me. Look at me.”

“Delia.” Her name escaped your lips before you had time to think it.

She was very pale, and her face was wet with tears, but she let out a relieved laugh when your eyes met hers.

“Delia,” you repeated, frowning in confusion as you took her state in.

You were lying on your back in the middle of a corridor, surrounded by a group of students. You spotted Madison, leaning against the wall next to Cordelia, staring down at you with interest and just a hint of amusement. “What…”

Your face crumpled as memories flooded you. Your right hand flew up to your chest and you gasped in a breath, fear rushing up to clench at your heart.

Cordelia cupped your face, stroking her thumbs over your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” she whispered as more tears rolled down her own cheeks.

You bit your lip on a sob, raised your hand to wipe away her tears. Cordelia chuckled and kissed your palm.

“What happened?” you hiccupped between two sobs.

Madison held out something in front of her. Your heart skipped a beat.

“The necklace,” you stammered. “Oh my God, the – Delia I was about to –“

Cordelia shushed you again, leaning forward as if to kiss you before she checked herself. Madison rolled her eyes.

“Please, we’re not stupid, or blind,” Madison said, but you spoke over her, your breath coming out too fast as panic threatened to overwhelm you again: “Delia I was about to offer you the same necklace I was about – “

“Hey hey hey, Y/N, it’s alright, love, it’s alright.” Cordelia slipped one arm around your waist and pulled you up to her. You buried your face in her neck, breathing her in, letting her familiar scent and warmth wrap around you like a blanket. She gently ran her fingers through your hair, supporting you with her other arm.

“How did you find me?” you whispered into her chest.

“I heard you,” she answered, her voice barely louder than yours. “I heard you calling in my head.”

You closed your eyes, confused, angry, and most of all afraid. Afraid of what would have happened if Cordelia had not rushed to you. Afraid of what would have happened if you had offered her the necklace and she had – you wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight, planting a kiss on her chest as you gulped back tears. You were trembling in her arms, your heart beating too fast, feeling like you couldn’t breathe again as images of an unresponsive Cordelia flashed in your mind, asleep but with her chest not moving, her heart not beating, a small moonstone shining pale blue on her skin that was as white as a corpse’s.

Before you knew it you were sobbing again, hanging on to Cordelia for dear life as she whispered words of comfort in your ear and stroke your back in a circling motion. You didn’t hear Madison ordering the girls to scatter, didn’t hear their confused footsteps, barely registered Cordelia pulling you up to your feet and guiding you back to your room. Gently she tucked you in bed, brushed your hair off your face, ran a hand up and down your arm as she wiped your tears with the other. You mumbled something, incoherent and sad, and she lay down by your side and wrapped you up in her arms safely. You pressed your ear to her chest, let the sound of her heartbeat lull you as you counted in your head, one, two, three, on the fourth beat a fond “I love you” murmured by Cordelia with a kiss on your head.

You had rarely seen Cordelia as mad as she was the day after when you explained to her where you had bought the necklaces. Anger burst from her like a snake opening its mouth to sink its fangs into flesh. Cordelia always looked powerful. Now she looked terrifying.

You stammered out short, anxious answers to her questions, instinctively leaning away from her. She noticed, and that seemed to make her angrier still.

She stormed out of the house and you stood nervously waiting for her on the porch. New Orleans would hold a funeral in a day or two. A corpse would be found but no clues as to its murderer would ever be discovered. Anna Morgana would be buried under the eyes of a curious crowd, camera flashes reflecting off her coffin.

You nervously shifted your weight on your feet, your eyes scanning the street in front of you, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and then Cordelia walked through the gate to the Academy. But she wasn’t alone.

Your heart did something weird. It jumped up your throat in fear, then swelled with warmth and pride and love. Anna Morgana was walking by Cordelia’s side, clutching a small backpack to her chest, her eyes avoiding you. She looked younger, somehow, and even though she was only a few inches shorter than Cordelia her body was like that of a child next to your Supreme.

Cordelia stopped in front of you, squinting in the sun. You tried to scowl at her, but the nervous grin you had been holding back crept up your face and your eyes lit up with love and adoration for this woman.

“Of fucking course,” you said.

Cordelia shrugged.

“What?” She cocked her head to the side, watching you. There was a hint of nervousness in her eyes as she studied your reaction. You reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “She needed help. That doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for your action,” she added, shooting Anna Morgana a cold, hard glance.

As it turned out, Cordelia’s intuition had been right: there was a new witch in town, and she was confused and lost. Anna Morgana must have known, deep down, that she was a witch, but the thought was so terrifying, so utterly unacceptable that when she saw you in her shop, when she heard you mention the Supreme, she freaked out. Her magic seemed to be powerful: all she did was wish that the necklaces would harm their owners, and she had quite succeeded.

Anna Morgana kept working at her shop, but she also started attending classes at the Academy. She profusely apologized to you and to Cordelia, bought you countless gifts, did all kinds of nice things for you, adamant that she right her wrong. She had a lovely personality, and quickly became part of the coven.

You knew she had been confused and terrified of who she was; you knew what fear was capable of doing to even the best of people. But you couldn’t help it: every time your eyes fell on Anna Morgana, every time you heard her voice, something in you awoke that you could not control and that had the terrible, pungent smell of panic. It grew in you like a seed, taking root in your stomach, spreading its branches into your chest to wrap around your heart and squeeze, tight.

You could tell it was hard for Cordelia, too. You had never heard her snap at any of her girls but Madison, and now Anna Morgana was added to the list, especially in the first few days of her settling in at the Academy. There often was an edge to Cordelia’s voice when she spoke to her, a flash of anger in her eyes, her arm extending protectively in front of you whenever Anna Morgana entered the room you were in. But Cordelia’s heart was endlessly kind, and she was brave, and believed people could change when given the opportunity to. Soon her attitude towards Anna Morgana softened. And Anna Morgana, like all the other girls in Cordelia’s care, opened up like a flower and blossomed and started healing.

And you felt trapped in a corner. Guilt about not being able to move on and forgive gnawed at you like a dog gnaws on a bone and doesn’t let go. Guilt about not being able to be the brave person Cordelia deserved. And the fear that would clench your heart every time someone would so much as mention Anna Morgana, grew so strong and invasive you were sure it had settled permanently in you like a new organ your body had grown. This organ was ill and worked poorly. It kept you up all night, made you fidgety. The faintest of noises – someone coughing in the room next door, footsteps in your back – boomed in your ears like the detonation of a gun and made you jump.

It became hard to focus on daily tasks. You isolated yourself from the other girls, saying you had too much to do for spare time. You snapped at one of the younger girls, once, for no good reason at all. And then you isolated yourself from Cordelia. You pretended to be too tired to wait up for her on the nights she worked till late. You avoided her at lunchtime, hiding in your room with whatever food your stomach could hold.

That week was particularly busy for Cordelia. She had to fly halfway across the country to bring back a new girl who was too panicked to leave her room. When she came back she had barely slept for three days and did not allow herself to rest until she had gone through the paperwork you had neglected to deal with. She nearly collapsed into your arms that night, and you gently tucked her in and dropped a quick, distracted kiss on her forehead before you all but ran to your own room. You thought you heard Anna Morgana’s voice in the corridor, which nearly drove you crazy with fear and had you mutter a protection spell behind your locked door. You whispered one for Cordelia, too, just in case.

You thought, you really did, that you could carry on living in a constant state of fear.

You woke up one night and everything around you was dark. Terror shot through you as something suddenly pressed all of its weight upon your chest and dear Lord, you could not breathe. You sat bolt upright, gasping for air, your shaking hands coming up to your chest to try and get rid of the necklace, but all you could feel was skin, hot, clammy skin, so you clawed at it desperately but the pressure would not go. It would not let you breathe. So you tried to spring out of the bed, wheezing now, your legs tangling up in the cover, but something closed around your arm to hold you back.

“Let go!” you screamed – and it was angry, it was an order, but above all it was terrified.

“Y/N what – “

You tried to hit whatever was holding you back, but it seemed you had lost your bearings for your hand only slammed air. And then there was light, and you realized it was Cordelia, only Cordelia, sitting up with her eyes wide with fear and worry, and there was nothing, no necklace around your neck.

You had one leg still on the bed, the other dangling out, and your nails had clawed so hard at your chest that the skin was red and scratched.

“Y/N are you alright? What happened?”

You ran a shaky hand through your hair, avoiding Cordelia’s eyes. Her hand that was holding your arm slid up to your shoulder to pull you towards her, but you resisted, trying to blink back the tears that were burning your eyes, humiliation and fear battling to take possession of your brain.

“Hey,” Cordelia called, her voice gentler now. You felt the mattress dip as she moved closer to you. Her warmth pressed against you. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“It was nothing.” Your voice was too small. You closed your eyes and squeezed them tight. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Cordelia let out a sigh. Gingerly, she pulled you back into bed. This time, you let her. But you were still too terrified to lie down, so you sat with your back against the headboard, one hand still pressed against your chest, your breathing still too fast, too shallow. Cordelia hummed, rested one hand on your thigh.

“Bad dream?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head. Your throat was too tight.

“I woke up and I couldn’t – “ you croaked, tears spilling down your cheeks, your chin trembling as you let out a sob.

“You couldn’t breathe,” Cordelia finished for you. You met her gaze, her eyes so big and brown and shining with tears but so brave, and so kind, and so forgiving.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands. Suddenly it was all too much, the fear, the guilt, the anger that had plagued you for the past few days washing over you like water released from a dam and threatening to carry you away in its force. Your body shook and caved in; but Cordelia’s arms met you, and held you tight.

It took a while for you to calm down. When you eventually did, you lay limp and spent with your body sagging into Cordelia’s. She stroked your back in a circling motion, as she always did when you needed to be comforted.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated in a breath.

“Don’t apologise. I’m the only one to blame. I should – “ Her voice faltered, and you felt her swallow hard. Automatically your hand came up to stroke her cheek in comfort. “I’ve been too busy to even notice you were struggling.”

“I can’t –“ You closed your eyes, clutching at Cordelia’s nightdress. “My brain can’t seem to stop associating Anna with danger.” You paused, swallowed hard. “She could have killed me. She could have killed you.”

“I know.“ Cordelia inhaled deeply and dropped a kiss on your head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I can’t kick her out. She hasn’t done anything wrong since she’s been with us, and she has no home, nowhere else to go. She’s just coming to terms with her powers. I don’t…” She shook her head, bit her lip and pulled away to look into your eyes. Hers were big and watery and desperate. “I don’t know what to do,” she finished in a breath.

Something in her eyes, something in that confession – the helplessness, perhaps, that was so unlike her – made your heart roar in protest. You thought you could take a lot of things in this world, but this seemed to draw the line: there was no way on Earth, Heaven or Hell you’d be the one to paint that look on Cordelia’s face – your brave, kind, sunlit Cordelia.

You cupped her face, and when you next spoke your voice surprised you both. It was firm and confident and coated in a newfound determination that chased the demons out of the room. “You don’t have to do anything. You’re right, we can’t kick her out.” You tried for a smile. “So I’ll get a grip on myself and get over this.”

You tried to stop avoiding Anna Morgana. You sat next to her at breakfast, initiated a conversation at lunch, laughed at a joke she said at dinner. It sounded and looked too fake, but at least it was a first. You felt too nauseous to sleep that night, so you stayed up in the living room to watch movies. A little after midnight Cordelia joined you, carrying a blanket and two pillows. She snuggled up to you without a word, rested her head on your shoulder and made some sleepy comments about the movie. You fell asleep within the next half hour, lulled by Cordelia’s soft breathing.

The following days were scary, and some too hard when you felt like giving up and fleeing the city. Anxiety couldn’t be reasoned with. But Cordelia seemed to be everywhere with you, lingering in a corner of the room where you and Anna Morgana had a conversation, handing you a cup of coffee in the kitchen when you and Anna Morgana said good-morning, resting a hand soothingly on the small of your back when one time you considered wrapping your own hands around Anna Morgana’s neck and choke her for revenge.

On a Friday afternoon two weeks later, you and Anna Morgana went to get tattoos together. She held your hand during the entire session. Later that day as you met Cordelia in a corridor (dressed in one of her beautiful long floral dresses, stealing all the lights and colours from the sunset), you waved your arm in front of her face with a giddy smile and she gently grabbed your hand, flashing you a grin. The look on her face grew from amused to surprised to moved. When her eyes met yours, they were shining with love and tears.

“A lion’s heart,” you said softly, smiling down at the tattoo on your wrist, then back up at her. “It’s the meaning of your name, it’s what you have, it’s what you gave me.”

Cordelia bit her lip, gave a teary laugh and kissed you passionately in full view of everyone (she freaked out about it later, of course, and held an emergency meeting with the older girls during which Madison lost her cool and cried out, “surprise, bitch, everyone fucking knew”).

On the first day of summer you were awakened by a soft knock on your door.

You groaned, pressed your face closer to Cordelia’s chest as she stirred. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled like safety. You planted a lazy kiss between her breasts.

Another knock, louder. You opened your eyes groggily, and were met with the sight of pale skin, freckles sprayed over the swell of Cordelia’s breasts, a strand of blond hair curling just below her collarbone. Your mouth watered and something excited fizzed in your stomach.

“Your room,” Cordelia grumbled sleepily as another knock sounded.

You considered ignoring the goddamn intruder to worship your Supreme instead, but Cordelia – ever the responsible one – poked your knee with hers. You lifted your head, meaning to scowl, but her eyes were closed, a lazy smirk spreading all over her beautiful, messy morning face.

With a groan you got up, your legs heavy with sleep. You snorted as Cordelia mumbled, “Being the Supreme means I get to have nice boobs,” – because of course she knew exactly what was in your mind.

You opened the door with a rough “What?”

Anna Morgana flashed you a shy smile. She was dressed in a black lace blouse, black pleated skirt, and her hair was braided with pink flowers and sunkissed by the early rays slipping through the window.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said with another shy smile. “I thought you’d be up by now.”

Her gaze slid sideways and stared at something behind you. You pulled the door closer to you.

“I thought you’d be alone,” Anna Morgana went on. Her eyes met yours, amused. You tried to glare, but a smile betrayed you.

“I come bearing a gift,” Anna Morgana announced. She extended both her hands. In the middle of them sat a small rectangular box that looked way too familiar. Something unpleasant rose in your chest. You glanced up at Anna Morgana worriedly, but she nodded encouragement.

“Come on, open it.”

You’d rather not. You’d really, really rather not. Why was it suddenly too hard to breathe? For a second you were about to slam the door in Anna Morgana’s face. But then from behind you came the sound of ruffling sheet, of a warm body stretching in a lazy summer morning light, the sun bright and shining and still going strong, still welcoming every new day.

With a shaky hand you opened the box and lifted up the thin, delicate moonstone necklace. Your heart was pounding, and the room was too hot.

“It matches the colour of your eyes,” you heard Anna Morgana say. “And this one won’t try to strangle you.”

“It’s beautiful,” came Cordelia’s voice. One of her arms slipped around your waist and drew you close to her. Your body relaxed. You glanced up at her for courage, like plants stretch towards the sun for life.

You managed to offer Anna Morgana a smile. “Thank you,” you said, your fingers closing around the necklace.

Cordelia’s fingers playfully tickled your hip and your thigh bumped hers in retaliation, just as something in your chest you had not really known was there loosened and took flight and disappeared out of the window to melt in the summer heat.

#ahs imagines #ahs #american horror story #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #fics

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agathasangel · 3 years

Text

leave everything behind but me- part 4 (diane sherman x reader) (NSFW moment)

warnings: same as before, stalking (like full on irl stalking as well as online), drugging, some talk of emotional/physical abuse in this one, death mention. this whole fic is just kinda dark... sorry. Also brief nsfw moment.

summary: this part is from Diane’s perspective. as she looks for her neurotoxin ingredients in a panic, she reflects on how she came into contact with you in the first place, and all the highs and lows of your relationship up to this point.

where the hell are they? thought Diane, looking for the last, most important ingredient in her neurotoxin.

She couldn’t believe it had come to this again. Just like with Chloe.

Diane wondered where Chloe was, what she was doing. About five years ago, with an excellent defense lawyer, she managed to get out of jail for what she had done. She looked far and wide for her stolen daughter, who seemed to be nowhere to be found. She still worried about what became of Chloe, but knew she was probably doing alright. And one day, Diane found a new obsession by the name of (y/n).

It was nearly two years ago now. Diane was beginning to give up on finding Chloe, after three full years of searching anywhere and everywhere with no luck. But she did find something else.

She was staying at a hotel in California, near the hospital where she gave birth to Chloe, in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe would be around.

Diane didn’t find Chloe, but she found something else from her past. Her college reunion was being held in the exact hotel she was staying at. She didn’t plan on attending, but then she came face-to-face with her college rival. This woman was the only person who did better in her classes than Diane. Not only that, but she had multitudes of friends, boyfriends, you name it, while Diane had no one. The woman never let Diane forget how much better she was either. It wasn’t the worst thing Diane had ever been through, not by a long shot, but it was a disappointment for sure. College was supposed to be the place where Diane could finally feel like she belonged, and she always resented this rival of hers.

“Diane! We didn’t think you were coming! Oh here, have a seat!” said the woman.

“I’m so sorry about Roger. It was such a shock to hear about.”, she continued, reminding Diane of her dead husband

“Yeah, I still can’t say I’m over it, all these years later.”

“Yeah when the love of your life just drops dead like that, you never get over it, do you?”, she said, far louder than Diane would have liked.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Of course, I’m so sorry, Diane, I know it must be so hard for you!”

“Yeah. Um... what’s your family like?”

“Well we have one daughter. Her name is (y/n), and she’s a senior in High School,” said the woman. She then leaned into Diane and said, “But can I be honest? I never exactly wanted kids. Never liked them. I thought it would change when I had her but it didn’t. She’s so... difficult.”

Diane’s blood absolutely boiled hearing this, but she managed to keep a polite face, “But that’s your child. Don’t you love her?”

“There are some good things about her, I guess. I do love her in my own way, but I can’t help but feel disappointed. She’s just not what I thought she’d be. I’m sorry, I thought you may understand. I never get to vent my frustrations about her.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t understand. But, do you, um, by any chance have a picture of her?”

“On my phone, somewhere. Let me look.”

After a while, she found a picture of (y/n). It was fairly recent photo of you at a restaurant, at what looked like a dinner with the whole family. You looked sad and lost, but Diane thought you looked sweet.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, almost stifling a laugh, as if there was no way Diane could have meant that.

“I’m sorry, I need to go to the bathroom.” said Diane, as she was starting to turn red in anger and the woman.

“I’ll join you, I need to freshen up a bit.”

“Fine.”

So Diane walked straight into a stall while the other woman followed. Diane started to cry, so angry at this awful woman. She had a child, a beautiful, sweet, girl who was alive, for God’s sake. Diane would kill for what she has, in fact she had killed for it before. But this woman didn’t care about her child, she didn’t appreciate you one bit.

She didn’t deserve you.

Then she heard the woman get into the stall next to her and she decided to leave. But the woman left her purse on the sink. Diane looked into her purse and found everything. All her information was in her wallet, and she took pictures of her address, phone number, and credit card numbers, as well as a couple of photos of you and your father. Diane quickly threw the last photo back into her purse as she heard her enemy get up, and she ran away, all the way back up to her room.

Diane looked at the photos, and started to look for your social media. You didn’t seem to post very often, or have many friends. Most of your photos were of you by yourself, or pretty things you took pictures of, and even a couple of sad poems you wrote. Poetry written by teenagers was usually laughably bad, but hers made Diane cry. She saw herself in you.

Poor little thing, Diane thought. She needs some love. But I can do that for her.

Diane spent about a month following you and your parents around, without any of you even noticing her presence. One day she snuck into their house and bugged it, so that there were feeds of different rooms streaming to her computer at all times.

Diane noticed you spent most of your time alone. You wrote in a journal a lot, and cried fairly often, hugging a teddy bear you had. You just seemed so burnt out from stress from school, stress from your job, pressure from your parents. You fought with both of her parents often. Well... fight wasn’t the right word. Usually, one parent would yell at you and insult you, and you would choose to either take it or not take it.

There was one particular instance where you snapped at your father, telling him how he abandoned you so many times. He didn’t take this well, screaming all kinds of insults. How Diane wished she could hold you, rock you, comfort you and tell you that aren’t any of the terrible things your father told you, and that she’s sorry that you never felt good enough.

Diane snuck into (y/n)’s graduation, too. She knew she couldn’t contact you yet, but she got so much happiness out of just seeing this milestone of your life. All you did was walk across the stage and take your diploma, but Diane beamed with pride for you as you did it.

After graduation, your parents were constantly threatening to kick you out, and the fights got worse, they crying got worse. Diane wished she was there, comforting you, holding you and giving you all the love that your parents didn’t. Diane looked for a window of opportunity into this girl’s life until she found the perfect one. You had put out an ad on facebook for anyone on the east coast looking for a roommate, and Diane put her plan into action. She made a fake account on facebook pretending to be a college girl named “Anna Johnson” and responded to the ad, starting to talk to and getting friendly with you. “Anna” suggested that you take a bus trip and offered to pay the fare, but you refused because you wanted to earn the money yourself. Diane’s heart warmed at your sweet messages, even though they were to “Anna” and not her. “I’ve never had as good a friend as you before”, “Who needs a mom when I have you giving me such great advice?”, “You’re the best!”, every little message that you sent to Diane made her fall more and more in love. Diane bought a little house on the East Coast with the money she got from selling her old house, and hoped everything will fall into place in her new life with (y/n).

Now during the bus trip, Diane needed to follow you closely in her silver minivan, and make sure not to lose track of you during layovers either. Her detour into the coffee shop scared her at first, but once Diane found you, it was the perfect opportunity to finally, after all these months of dreaming, meet you face-to-face. Her new little baby girl, finally. Diane slipped a powdered sleeping pill into her already tired girl’s coffee to make you even more sleepy and suggestible, getting you to come with her to her hotel room.

Back in the present, Diane found the rest of the powdered sleeping pills as she was searching through her medicine cabinet and closet. She got so distracted thinking about you, and all the horribly wrong things she had done to you.

It’s for her own good, all of it. She needs to be protected, she’s too pure for this world, to good, too sweet...

Diane searched through the drugs she had given you, thinking of all the best times the two of you have had.

The first day Diane had been with you in the little house was heaven on earth. Finally Diane had everything she’s been working for for almost a year now right there, in her arms. Diane wanted to give you everything you didn’t believe you deserved. The only catch was that you belonged to Diane, and Diane alone.

She got a job teaching Chemistry at the local High School fairly easily, as she had extensive knowledge (even more extensive than she may have let on in her interview), of the subject, and the school district was completely desperate for competent science teachers. Diane found faking the background check easy, she used her maiden name and an incorrect date of birth and they didn’t ask her about her arrest at all. And now she had her new life set up. A house that she owned, a job to put food on the table, and you.

The next best day for Diane was the day you finally kissed her. Diane was starting to fall in love with you in a more romantic, even a more sexual way, but didn’t know if you felt the same way about her. Then, during one of your movie nights, you kissed Diane, and she felt overjoyed. She kissed you back and finally led you to the bed and fucked you, like she had been thinking about doing every night at this point but was too scared to actually initiate until now. She was in love with the feeling she got from kissing you, from pleasing you. It had been so long since Diane had been this intimate with anyone, and she was your first. And it was a real awakening for the both of you.

It felt so good, you felt so good. This relationship you had was so incredibly wrong in so many ways, but it just felt so right.

Why did it have to change?

Of course, there were still some hard moments. Even Diane admitted that there were times when she could be irrationally possessive of you, getting angry when someone even looks at you the wrong way. She knew that her possessive, obsessive attitude could scare you, and you would even blame yourself for it, but she didn’t know how to stop. She knew that you were getting scared she would become more difficult to please, like all the other people that have been in your life.

Or the times that you would cry, and it happened so often. You would get sad and Diane would hold you and tell you:

“It’s ok baby, you’re here now, you’re with me. I love you more than life itself. You’re gonna be okay, my little angel.”

One night Diane woke up to you crying into your pillow, and immediately grabbed you.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“I- I was afraid that you might- that- one day- you might not want me anymore... what would happen if you d-don’t want me....”

“Listen, I will never not want you. You are all I have, remember? And you’re all I need. Come here, that’s right. You’re my baby, all mine.. shhh....”

Or, there was the time you asked about the scars on Diane’s back. She was mortified, but finally told you about her terrible childhood. The horrible abuse from her mother until her death, the foster home, everything. Her desperation to become the mother she never had. You hugged her tight.

“I’m so sorry, Diane, I had no idea... and to think I complained about-”

“Baby, don’t compare your life to mine. All that matters now is that it’s you and me, and I need to take care of you.”

“Sometimes I think I should be the one taking care of you, Diane.”

“Trust me baby, you do so much more for me than you think.”

Then Diane found it. The rest of the paint thinner. And she was ready to take away all your sadness once and for all, and make you hers forever.

#my fics #sarah paulson x reader #diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #sarah paulson #sarah paulson fics

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sarcasticace · 2 years

Text

TLovm reaction/thought dump, ep 7, 8, 9 let’s go!!!

- i like the flashback at the beginning of ep7. it really develops these character who were really... not much more than names previously. even if ander’s motivation is a bit on-the-nose. but he doesn’t really need to be deep. he’s just a regular guy who did a horrible thing because he’s a horrible person

- which is also why i still don’t like that stonefell was made into... the wiki says duergar. presumed of course. but they’re still considered an “evil” fantasy race and tlovm plays into that. idk why the change was necessary. just make them a regular human, elf, elc etc.

- i know where vax’s anger is coming from, but that “i will not hesitate. I WILL kill you” sounds forced.

- ohhhhh the backstory behind the pepperbox is SO COOL in animation.

-”who’s the sixth barrel for” and the fucking shadow!!!!

- not that i dislike the thing vex, vax, and keyleth have going on, but can we also give grog and scanlan some more serious moments that aren’t comic relief.

- i find it interesting how tlovm and the original campagin have two different takes on scanlan’s solo raid on the mansion. because originally scanlan is a badass bard who is disrespected by the likes of vex. he has moments of seriousness and strategy. his raid of the mansion is all panic and improv. tlovm kinda depicts him a bit of a clown. but also an underdog trying for respect. and his teammates do respect him to a degree, but only behind his back and in moments of hardship. both versions have the same endresult, but they are also kinda different characters. like tlovm’s scanlan seems like a younger version of C1 scanlan.

- im not the biggest fan of how much of a leader vex is depicted as. i mean, if it’s anyone, it should be her atm. but vox machina has one brain cell and she does not have custody of it that often. girl wanted to storm whitestone originally.

- “never listen to me again” stop talking then.

- “let’s not be rash, percy” she says after assuming the worst of scanlan five seconds ago.

- im tired... of constant comic relief grog. pls i just want my goliath barbarian back. the scene with him turning on his friends is good and dramatic. i just wish they made him more serious more often. because i feel like... if i watched this having known nothing about critical role, it loses something. he’s only serious moment has been with pike (and that one short moment with vax). the rest of the time he’s just the big dumb idiot who wants to kill things played for laughs.

- i love everything about keyleth trying to heal cass. from her spell components, the mutterings under her breath, her surprise and excitement then rushing in to help her friends. marisha is really bringing her A game too. and then cass just passes out.

-”you’re the face i saw when murder entered my heart.” holy shit taliesin. oh and the eye during the gunshot flash. there are so many screenshot worthy moments of percy. id love some background wallpaper of some of these scenes.

- you know, i wasn’t sold on cass’ design originally, but it’s grown on me. especially that single streak of white. and i love her VA. the deliver is really good. her soft voice, the sadness behind her words. it just really adds something that makes me love her more.

- i absolutely love pike’s arc. love how delilah’s attack was sort of the excuse for her mind to bring her issues forward. it’s not explicit, but i got the feeling this doubt was always there in the back of her mind. the broken holy symbol was just when it started coming forward.

- god it’s like... every other scene they gotta pause to give us more vax|eth moments. pls, im begging you, give us some bonding time with any couple involving keyleth that’s not vax.

- PIKE PIKE PIKE!!!

- archie’s death actually kinda hit me. i wasn’t expecting that. i mean, i knew he was gonna get killed off for character development, but idk just the... brutal way what’s-his-name just bisects him. it was effective.

- ANNA RIPLEY CLIFFHANGER.

#Critical Role #TLoVM spoilers #The Legend of Vox Machina

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thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

No, Really

Summary: Adrien can no longer deny it - he is in love with Marinette! The only problem is, she has made it absolutely clear that she is definitely not interested in him. But when he discovers that Marinette might be harboring feelings for Chat Noir, Adrien decides that there is only one way to get together with her: Reveal his identity.

Trouble is? She doesn't believe him.

Hello and welcome! This fic was written for the @totographszine, which was publish for free here. Go check it out, the wonderful @anna-scribbles even did some excellent art of this fic in there.

Read on Ao3

Without any further ado... Enjoy!

Adrien was in love with Marinette. There was no getting around that any more. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem that she felt the same way.

Ever since he had come to terms with his feelings, he’d been trying to flirt with her. A few cheesy lines here. Some lingering touches and eye contact there. Compliments scattered throughout the day. Although, as he had realized now, it was harder to compliment her more than he already had been. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?

The worst part of it was that she even flirted back! Which may sound great, but his experiences with Ladybug had taught him that flirting back could also mean friendly banter. It was a frustratingly similar experience, which he chose not to dwell on too hard.

And just like with Ladybug, he was at least appreciating the friendship that he could share with Marinette. Now that she had begun to open up to him, he was learning all sorts of things about her. Her favorite foods, what exactly tickled her most, her little mannerisms.

One day he learned the most important little fact about Marinette of them all.

“What is it with you and crushin’ on celebs, girl?”

Adrien recognized Alya’s voice at once and his eyes widened when he realized who she was likely talking to on the other side of the locker.

Sure enough, Marinette let out an irritated groan. There was a sound of a locker opening.

“What makes you think I have a crush on him? Just because I drew him in my notebook—”

“Oh sure, if you were just drawing him, that’d be one thing. But the hearts and kissy faces tell a whole different story.”

Adrien stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. It felt as if his heart had

stopped beating. Had he failed to win the hearts of both his crushes? Would he ever get a lucky break just for once?

“They weren’t—that’s—no! Those were …” Marinette sputtered and eventually mumbled something that sounded a lot like “spades.”

“Spades.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, girl, if you want I could probably mention your name the next time I see him. Sure it’d be harder to pull off than with blondie, but I’m down.”

“Drop it, Alya,” Marinette said half-heartedly. The locker door was shut and they walked toward the entrance. For a moment, he was scared they would turn around and see him eavesdropping. “I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t want to have my number pushed into his hand.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he suddenly jolted to life. Chat Noir?

“Maybe. We’ll only find out if we give it a shot.” Their voices got more distant as they walked away. “At least we know you’ve got a type now.”

“Alya!”

In his heart of hearts, Adrien hoped that type included boys with green eyes and blond hair. Would it be too much to ask that she fall for him a second time? Not just as Chat Noir but as Adrien?

It was there, standing alone in the locker room, heart pounding in his throat and feeling light headed, that Adrien was suddenly struck by a plan. And while he was no Ladybug, he was pretty confident about this one.

After all, he didn’t need to make her fall for him twice. She just needed to find out who Chat Noir was.

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

His first opportunity took way too long to arrive. The need to confess his secret identity to her had been weighed against his duty not only to Paris but to Ladybug. He was as certain of Marinette’s trustworthiness as he could be, but he needed to be sure that she and only she heard him.

Besides, it made confessing his feelings a little easier too, which was honestly weighing just as heavily on his mind. Sure, safety of Paris and fighting Hawkmoth and all that, but there was also his poor battered heart to take into consideration. Ladybug had been gentle with her rejections, but they still stung as much as being tossed into a wall by a dozen akumas.

It took over a month for a golden opportunity. The four of them had been studying in Marinette’s room when Alya had left to go babysit her sisters, taking Nino along with her. Adrien watched them slowly pack up and amble over to the trap door, silently screaming every time they stopped for another little chat. But eventually, they did leave. Nino’s cap disappeared below the floor and the trapdoor shut behind them. It was late enough that Sabine and Tom had gone to bed already, but not so late that Adrien would have to leave yet, at least not for a couple hours.

Swallowing against the suddenly dryness in his throat, Adrien looked at Marinette. All thoughts of the physics homework in front of them banished the moment he saw her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration.

How could one person be so cute?

Her bright blue eyes flickered up at him. “Something wrong, Adrien?”

There wasn’t going to be a better time. It was now or never.

“Marinette … I’m Chat Noir.”

The sound of her pencil scratching along the paper stopped as she stared at her homework. There was a long moment of silence wherein Adrien silently panicked. After a few seconds that stretched into infinity, which Adrien spent praying that she would say something, anything, she finally spoke.

“Yeah, okay.”

She said it with a snort and a chuckle. It was like when he was experimenting with different jokes for her and he found one that didn’t quite land but didn’t completely fall flat.

She returned back to her homework, and the sound of the pencil resumed.

“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Um … I suppose I can add a ‘haha’ in there too? If it makes you feel better?”

“You’re not supposed to laugh!”

“Then it’s not a very good joke.”

“It isn’t a joke,” Adrien said, crossing his arms haughtily. This was not going how he had planned in the slightest.

Marinette raised an eyebrow as she sat up. “There is no way you are Chat Noir.”

“Why not? I’m cool!”

“Exactly, and Chat Noir is a massive dweeb.”

Adrien gasped, scandalized. “Take that back!”

“I will not. Besides,” she continued, raising her hand, “there are plenty of things Chat Noir is that you aren’t and vice versa.” She raised a finger for each point. “Chat Noir is loud, outgoing, with a sharp tongue, and he’s a flirt to boot. Plus the whole massive dweeb thing.”

“And what about me?” Adrien pouted, almost dreading the answer. “Adrien Agreste me, I should say.”

“You’re quieter, to start with.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was easier for her to describe someone who she thought wasn’t present. “You’re considerate and kind and a perfect gentleman.” She smirked and chuckled. “At least, you usually are.”

Adrien put his hands together and brought them next to his lips as he took a deep breath. He was suddenly reminded of all the times he’d made reservations or tried to set up an account on some website under his own name, only to have it deleted because it “couldn’t possibly be actually Adrien Agreste.” By this point in his initial planning stages of confessing to Marinette, they were already organizing their first date between passionate spells of making out, not trying to determine if he really was himself.

But Adrien was nothing if not adaptable.

With a wide, toothy grin worthy of his alter ego, he leaned forward, putting himself dangerously close to her face. The faint blush she’d been sporting flared to life and spread across her entire face. Her eyes went large as he purred out a reply.

“What an unfortunate alley cat I am, baring my soul to a beautiful princess and she doesn’t even believe me. Whatever shall I do?”

“W-wow, you’ve … you’ve really practiced this, h-haven’t you?” She put on a brave face and scooted backwards.

“You could say that. You could also say I’ve got a lot of experience with the whole Chat Noir flare.” The smile became more genuine as he added teasingly, “And it looks like you think Chat Noir might be more than just a massive dweeb, hmm?”

“Y-yeah?” She got back some of her composure—not much, but enough to start bantering back at him. “And what else is he then?”

“A cool cat, maybe,” he said, tossing his hair and running a hand through it. “Or, even better, a fine feline.” He grinned and finger gunned at her.

Marinette snorted. “You’ve definitely nailed down some of that Chat Noir full-of-yourself stuff. Congrats on getting your research done at least.”

“Not research. Just living the life, Pigtails.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Very creative nickname.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Then again, it’s better than princess or my lady, so I’ll take it.”

“Hey now, Ladybug likes me calling her that, even if she tries to hide it.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. But seriously, whose idea was this? It feels like Alya had a hand in this. I just know it.”

“Why would Alya get me to try to tell you I’m Chat Noir?”

“She never gives up on her ships is all.” Marinette’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands over her mouth. “Forget I said that!”

“But I—”

Her hands went straight for his mouth. “Forget!”

He held his hands up in surrender and she backed off.

“Come on, though. What’s so hard to believe about me being Chat Noir?”

“I just can’t see you and Chat Noir being the same person. You’re both so different!”

“Okay, first off—yeah, I can be quiet sometimes,” Adrien admitted. “But you’ve seen how I am with my friends, when I’m comfortable. I can be just as outgoing as I am in the mask!”

Marinette massaged her temples. “So what, you’re saying you have to be with close friends to be as confident as you are making terrible puns in front of all of Paris?”

“Well, the mask helps a little,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, then I don’t have to think about how what I say will impact the company or get yelled at by my father. I get to just … be wild.” He gave her a timid smile. “I suppose sometimes I go a little overboard, huh?”

Her blush deepened. “Y-yeah. I guess you do sometimes.” She cleared her throat and schooled her expression back into a skeptical one. “Assuming you are Chat Noir, of course.”

“Of course.” Quietly, he added, “You know, Adrien me isn’t the only one who is ... kind. I’ve done it plenty of times in the mask.”

“I mean, yeah, you do the heroics and everything, but I was talking about something—”

“Gentler?” he said with his best Chat Noir grin, which made her eyes widen like saucers. His voice was still barely above a whisper. “Like when I comfort akuma victims or sponsor animal shelters?”

“I—yes, like that,” she admitted in the same soft tone. A little stronger, she poked his chest and gave a small smirk. “But don’t you think Ladybug will be mad that you revealed your identity? You promised not to do that, you know. Assuming you really are Chat Noir.”

“Maybe I should have asked her about it first,” he admitted, even as something tickled at the back of his mind. How did she know about the promises between them? “But I’m sure she’d understand if she knew. The value of love is something we both agree on.”

“I mean, I guess, but—wait, what?”

“And I suppose you’ve noticed how, no matter what side of the mask I’m on, I love to flirt with the person I love?” She gasped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “Finally get there? I mean, I’ve been flirting with you nonstop for like a month.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Ladybug should hang out. The everyday Ladybug and the real-life Ladybug. Both of you can be really dense when it … comes to … realizing … oh my god.”

Adrien saw the exact moment that she realized that he had figured her out. One moment she was watching him attentively. The next, her eyes had widened in panic, her pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpoints. He knew that if he did nothing, she’d start flailing her arms around and denying it.

The distance between them turned to nothing as he leapt toward her, laughing. She grumbled as he pulled her close, squeezing her tight against his chest, but she didn’t try to break free.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. You only got lucky,” she said as she returned the hug.

“Luck or not, I finally found you … my lady.”

He looked down at her face at the same moment that she looked up into his. A moment laden with meaning passed between them before they both broke down laughing again. At long last, they had finally found each other.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #ml fanfiction #my writing #Totographs Zine

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Text

Defender of Men

Alex Lightwood birth storyyy!! I’m finally publishing it because someone sent me an ask on it, but it became too long, so here’s part one:

“Cecily, are sure you’ll be alright?” Gabriel asked.

“Jiw jiw, for the millionth time, I’ll be fine.” she said, pushing Gabriel out the door. “Now go do something useful.”

Anna was already outside, leaning against a tree, frowning down at her dress.

“Anna, gwnewch yn siŵr bod eich tad yn stopio poeni.” Cecily said.

Gabriel looked at her, annoyed. “I speak Welsh, Cecy.”

Cecily kissed his cheek, “Then make sure you do well on what I said.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and hugged her with one of his arms.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No, Gabriel.” She said, putting a hand on his chest. “Just have fun sledding with Anna, your nieces and Gideon. Sophie is right next door, if I need anything—which, I won’t—I’ll just call her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not made of glass, love. I’ll be fine. Now go before our poor Anna gets stuck frozen to that tree.”

Gabriel dropped a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go.

Cecily watched as he walked to Anna, who made a show of pretending to be asleep. He ruffled her hair, stealing her hat in the process and running down the street. Anna laughed and chased after him.

…

“Kit, bach, are you sure you don’t want to go sledding with Anna and your father? I’m sure it will be loads of fun,” Cecily said, once she was back inside.

Kit furrowed his eyebrows and cast a hesitant look outside. “I think I’d rather stay with you, Mam.”

Cecily smiled, knowing perfectly well Kit didn’t like the cold. “Alright then, fy ngalon bapur i.” (A/N: my paper heart)

Cecily walked to the kitchen and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with tea. Before she picked them up, she grabbed a pocket watch that was on the counter and hung it on her neck so she could time her contractions.

When she got back to the drawing room, she tried to set the mugs on the table, but she couldn’t bend down that far. Christopher shot to his feet and helped her put them down, and lowered her to the couch.

“Thank you, darling.” Cecily said, bracing a hand of her belly. She felt like she was at the verge of giving birth, which is never a good thing, as a mother’s instinct is rarely wrong. The first stage of labour takes around fourteen hours, hence Gabriel’s hesitation to leave her at home. Cecily had thought he was being dramatic, but that was before she realized that she was maybe closer to birth than she had thought. Had fourteen hours already gone by?

“What book are you reading?” Cecily said, looking over her son’s shoulder, distracting herself.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

Cecily scrunched up her nose. She had never read the book herself, but from what she’d heard of, it didn’t seem like a book Christopher would be interested in.

“What a peculiar choice of literature, cyw.”

“Matthew recently read it and said it was at utmost importance I read it as well. I don’t understand much of it, though. I’m also not very fond of the characters. I’d prefer your company over that of this book.”

Cecily smiled. “As do I, bach.”

Having children was a strange experience for Cecily. She was apprehensive at first, afraid she wouldn’t be a good mother and her children would end up resenting her. When she got pregnant with her first child, she was so happy.

And when she lost it, she had been so incredibly grief-stricken.

She had felt like she’d already failed as a mother, even though the Silent Brothers confirmed there was nothing that there was nothing that could have been done differently to have saved it, that it wasn’t uncommon to lose a child in the early stages of pregnancy.

That was the cruel irony, wasn’t it? To feel so much regret, to have your child die inside of you, and not know what went wrong.

They’d tried again, and then she was pregnant with Anna. The whole time she had been so horribly sick, she was terrified of losing another child. This time, however, she’d been pregnant long enough that she’d have to give birth to the child, whether it was alive or dead.

Those months had been the worst in Cecily’s entire life. Not even when her father had gambled away their home in Wales, the one she had memories of running with Will and Ella down valleys, had she felt such despair.

“Mam?”

Cecily shook her head, bringing herself back to the drawing room sofa, beside Kit.

“What is it, bach?”

“Does the baby have a name yet?”

Cecily rubbed her belly. “Not yet. Why do you ask?”

Kit shrugged.

Cecily suddenly felt a contraction. She started the pocket watch timer and sat forward and breathed deeply to try to relieve the pain. This one felt longer than the rest had been.

Kit looked at her from over his book, his eyebrows together.

Once it had passed, Cecily stopped the timer. After a couple of seconds of recovering from the contraction, she looked at the time, and swallowed.

“Kit,” she said as calmly as she could. “Bach, I need you to ring for the Silent Brothers.”

…

Brother Enoch, Zachariah and another brother Cecily couldn’t remember were preparing for the birth. Christopher had helped her up the stairs, before the brothers had come, and was now standing in a far corner of the room, at loss for what he should do.

“Christopher.” She said, motioning for him to come.

“You needn’t be here. I’ll be fine and your father will soon be here. I already asked Sophie to send him here once he stops by after sledding. You can wait outside until then.”

“But Mam, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I’m with the Silent Brothers.”

Christopher looked over his shoulder at the Brothers.

Cecily put a hand under his chin and turned his face to face her own. She smiled at him.

“Go, Kit. It’s alright. I’ve done this before.” She said with a smile.

“I want to stay here. With you.”

Cecily tried to rub away a smudge on Christopher’s face, perhaps something to do with his most recent experiment.

“I don’t think you do, bach. When people say birth is a natural process, it’s because they’re trying to glorify a process that’s ghastly.”

Cecily looked deep into his lavender eyes and smiled. “Now go, before I start crowning. Trust me when I say you’ll wish you’d have gone.”

Christopher made to move, but didn’t get up.

“I want to help you. I want to stay with you the way you stayed when I got my first rune.”

Cecily wanted to argue that this was different but she suddenly got a contraction that was long enough she knew she’d have to push at any moment.

Sure enough, Brother Enoch said, you must begin pushing soon, Cecily Lightwood.

“You have to be sure, Christopher.” She said through her teeth. “One-hundred percent sure. And you must stay on this side of the bed, because I don’t want you to see the birthing process. I’ll only let you stay because if not I’m afraid you’ll ‘stress experiment’ and blow up the house.”

Kit nodded quickly.

“Alright then.” She said.

Are you ready to push?

“Yes. Let’s finish what we started, Enoch.” Cecily said, taking Christopher’s hand in her own and bracing herself for the birth.

…

Congratulations, Cecily Lightwood, it’s a boy. Enoch said in her head, less than half an hour later.

Cecily fell back on the pillows, exhausted. Birth never really got easier over the years.

Jem came around with the baby in his arms and gave him to Cecily. She swore she saw him stroke the baby’s hair as he walked to her. She smiled up at him.

“Thank you, Jem.” She said, quietly.

He inclined his head at her and walked away.

Cecily looked down at her youngest son for the first time. She’d helped other women give birth when she was younger, and had always thought newborn babies ugly, but whenever she looked down at her own, they were the most beautiful and perfect little things in the entire world. She smiled and offered the little baby her finger to hold.

Like with all of her other children, she felt her eyes sting. There was something about holding her child for the first time that always brought chills to Cecily’s body. It’s not like when she held Anna for the first time, the feeling she felt that her life would forever be changed, but it was more like when Christopher was born; she didn’t feel any fear, just happiness. She kissed the baby’s forehead.

“I wish you could have met your grandparents.” She whispered.

Edmund and Linette had passed away four months ago, and it had been difficult for Cecily not having been able to visit them when they were still alive. Since she was pregnant, she and the baby would be at high risk of death, if she caught the influenza disease.

She tried to shake off the memory. Right now, she only wanted to focus on the good things in life, not the bad.

She looked up and saw Christopher a distance away from where she was. He must have moved away from her once the baby was out and the Silent Brothers began moving about, preparing the child to be held and checking to make sure everything was alright. Christopher looked at the baby in wonder, one of the first babies he’d ever seen.

“Come meet your brother, Kit.” She said, holding a hand out.

She motioned for Christopher to sit next to her on the bed and, resting the baby on her chest momentarily, demonstrated how to position his arms.

“That’s right, bach.” She said, lifting the baby to put in Kit's arms.

“Mam,” he said nervously. “What if I drop him?”

Cecily smiled. “You won’t. I have faith in you.”

She gently placed the baby in his brother’s arms, Christopher looking like he was holding his breath.

“Breathe, darling. It’s just your brother. Look at how much he likes you. He’s already reaching out to you.” The baby’s hands were indeed opening and closing slowly. Cecily helped Christopher adjust his arms, so that he was supporting the baby’s head better, and when she sat back, she felt a pang in her chest at seeing her two sons together. Christopher had a soft smile on his lips, the smile that many people had told her is the same as her own.

Sometime after she’d put the baby in Kit’s arms, a Silent Brother told her she needed to push out the placenta, so that they could begin healing the tears induced by the birth. She nodded and when she began pushing again, Kit looked up, confused.

“Is there another one?” He asked, surprised, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Heavens, no. Thank the Angel. It’s just the placenta.”

Christopher still looked confused.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, bach.” She reassured him.

…

The Silent Brothers were gone by the time Gabriel and Anna got home.

Cecily had been feeding the baby, and Christopher was reading a book on his back, keeping her company. He’d given up on reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, had switched it for a book on science. Cecily had tried to read a couple of sentences, but was deeply confused by them, not being able to understand a thing.

“I don’t know how you can read that, Christopher. I can’t follow a single sentence, much less the entire book.”

Kit looked up at her. “It’s not that hard, it’s just that Biology is interconnected, so you have to understand the previous concepts to understand this one.”

Cecily laughed. “You put a lot of faith in me, Kit.”

Christopher tilted his head to the side.

“What are you reading about now?”

“Genetics. Why children come out looking like their parents.”

“There’s an explanation behind that?” She asked.

“Yes! We all inherit half of our genes from our mother and half from our father.”

“Are you sure? I can’t imagine your father inheriting anything from Benedict.”

“It’s more so to do with physical traits.” Kit explained. “Like blue eyes or green eyes.”

“That’s quite interesting, bach.” she said.

And that’s how Cecily got a lesson on genetics. She was happy to listen to her son talk happily about science and to have her new baby in her arms and be able to kiss his tiny, soft nose and occasionally ruffle Christopher’s hair.

…

“By the Angel, Cecy.” Gabriel said, coming inside, worried. Both Anna and Gabriel had a lot of snow on their coats. They must have come home running after hearing the news. “Are you alright? Is the baby?”

“Yes, yes. Stop worrying.” Cecily said, holding up the bundle of blankets they’d hidden the baby inside of.

Anna’s eyes widened as her eyes landed on the bundle in Cecily’s arms. “Is that the baby? It’s so small.”

Cecily nodded and Anna walked quickly to kneel beside the bed and smiled at the baby.

“Hello.” She whispered, touching his cheek lightly.

“This is your new brother,” Cecily said, smiling at Anna.

Gabriel leaned in over Cecily’s shoulder, close enough that she could see his face as he smiled down at his youngest child. He put a hand on her shoulder, and kissed her temple lightly while Anna cooed at the baby.

…

A few moments later, Anna was sitting on the armchair across the room, holding the baby for the first time, Christopher standing to the side, letting the baby hold his finger.

Gabriel leaned close to her and whispered, “what do you think about Alexander?”

Cecily turned to look at him and smiled. “Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged, brushing her hair away from her face. “I was thinking about names while I took Anna sledding. I tried to come up with names for each letter of the alphabet and I got to ‘Maxwell’ before I thought of Alexander.”

Cecily looked back at her children, interlacing her hand with Gabriel’s. “What made you think of Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe the letter ‘X’ that they have in common.”

Cecily felt her smile grow wider. “I love it. Alexander.”

She felt Gabriel put his arms around her and she rested her head on his warm chest.

“The birth wasn’t that bad, was it?” Gabriel said, his voice lightly amused.

“Go to hell.” Cecily mumbled against his shirt.

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @writeforjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @will-effing-herondale @axoloteca @heronstairs2014 @ilovemanicures

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Oh, an if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded haha)

#cecily lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily x gabriel #alexander lightwood #christopher lightwood #anna lightwood #tsc #tsc fanfictions #tlh fanfiction #tid fanfiction

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greenjacketwhitehatdocmui · 3 years

Text

Frozen: In the Details

Summary: Sometimes, the simplest of tasks can have a deeper meaning. Agnarr muses on what washing the car has meant to him in the past, and possibly the future. This was written for the “Summer Lovin’” issue of @frozines on Tumblr. Modern AU, Agduna and Kristanna.

This story can be found on @frozines and at Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own.

Enjoy!

--Pearson “Doc” Mui

Frozen: In the Details by Pearson “Doc” Mui

Agnarr awoke early on a Saturday. With some grumbling, Iduna released him from their bed as he prepared for the day. She understood that this task had to be done early in the morning, but she didn’t have to like it. If things worked out, however, it would have been worth waking up early for.

After a quick breakfast and some cleanup, Agnarr trotted to the garage. The spring in his step ran counter to the occasional crackling sound in his knees. Even the projected thirty percent chance of rain did nothing to dampen his spirits.

Eyeing one corner of the garage, he chose his tools for the day’s task. Buckets, wash mitts and car soap were laid out on the garage floor. After a moment, he opened up some folding chairs and a small table.

Opening the garage door, he smiled at the sight of his girls coming home, if only for today. They were adults now; Elsa was working on her PhD while Anna was a year into graduate school. The nest was never empty for too long, thankfully. They made time to visit, even if it was just for small talk.

Elsa eyed him ruefully before accepting a quick hug. She had a pretty good idea of what he had planned for their incoming guest. Anna, on the other hand, was pouting.

“Dad, are you really going to put Kristoff through this?” Clearly, his youngest wasn’t pleased at the prospect.

Agnarr raised an eyebrow. “The way you’re talking, you’d think that I was going to torture him. It’s just a car wash between men.” He sighed. “You used to love helping me wash the car.”

“I remember that you loved using the hose,” Elsa reminded Anna. There wasn’t any real bite to her words, though. “We used to help while wearing swimsuits.”

Anna’s pout faded as she sighed, briefly lost in nostalgia. “Those were good times, weren’t they?”

Iduna folded her arms and sighed. Both of her girls were wearing swimsuits underneath their shirts and shorts. Anna eagerly fingered the trigger to the hose while Elsa made sure the supplies were in order.

Elsa was having a good day. It hadn’t taken too much cajoling to get her outside. Anna’s puppy-dog eyes were a formidable weapon, especially at the tender age of eight.

Most men would have insisted on doing “man stuff” by themselves. Agnarr wanted to have as many family activities as possible. Everyone had a job: Agnarr would wash the car, Anna would rinse it off and Elsa would take care of the windows. Iduna was there for spot-checking and refreshments.

“Is everyone ready?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Ready!” Anna piped up.

“I’m ready, Papa,” Elsa said more demurely.

He nodded. “Well, let’s get this car clean, shall we?”

Iduna marveled at their coordination. Everyone worked their roles admirably. Of course, a family wash like this was more for fun than work. There wouldn’t be any intensely-detailed work like Agnarr had done before—

She suppressed a shudder. Agnarr’s father had been a cold taskmaster. He was more of a sire than an actual, warm father figure. While she took no pleasure in anyone’s passing, she had admit that the town had been the better for it.

The calm lasted almost the entire time the car was being washed. Then Anna got a little overzealous with the hose and sprayed into the air.

“Look, Elsa! Look Papa! I’m making rainbows—oops.” Anna laughed nervously as she realized that both Elsa and Agnarr were soaked.

Iduna sighed, safe in the garage. She knew that it was going to end up like this.

With calm, deliberate steps, she retreated further into the garage and grabbed a third, covered bucket from its hiding place. She and Agnarr had prepared this little surprise last night. With some effort, she hoisted the bucket to the driveway and uncovered it.

Iduna reached into the bucket and grabbed a water balloon. She gestured for everyone to do the same.

“On three,” she said firmly. “One, two—“

“THREE!” Anna squealed.

The battle was joined. When it was over, they were collapsed on the lawn, soaked through and basking in the summer sun. It had been a good day.

“Morning, girls,” Iduna greeted them. “Have you had breakfast yet? I could fix something up.”

“We’re fine, Mom,” Elsa reassured her. “We ate before we came here.”

Anna blinked and winced as she ran back to her car, an unassuming Honda Civic. Rummaging around, she extracted a bag and jogged back.

“We stopped by Hudson’s Hearth,” Anna said. “Destin and Halima say `hello.’” She opened it up and the three women sniffed deeply at the smell that wafted out.

“Hmm…chocolate,” they chorused. For a moment, they were lost in the smell of the pastries.

Agnarr tried not to chuckle. The apples didn’t fall far from the tree.

He turned away from them and tried not to look too anxious or expectant. In the brief encounters he’d had before, Kristoff had seemed like a nice enough young man. It was clear that he cared greatly for Anna.

Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t been so lucky the first time. At first glance, Hans had seemed like a good person, too. But the devil was always in the details—or, in this case, the detailing.

Hans had pulled into their driveway in a Ferrari. To Agnarr, this was the first clue that the young man might have been trying too hard.

“Good morning, Mr. Arendelle!” Hans greeted him enthusiastically. “So, who’s going to get the royal car wash treatment?”

“We’ll be taking care of Anna’s car,” Agnarr said. “I already waxed our cars last week. I figured that Anna’s car could use a cleanup.”

Hans’s smile froze. There was a dark shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

“Oh,” Hans said simply. Then he rallied. “Oh, of course,” he agreed. “Nothing but the best for Anna.”

“I’m glad that you agree,” Agnarr said. “I have all the supplies in the garage. Was there anything you needed?”

“Thank you sir, but I brought my own things,” Hans said smoothly. He almost strutted to the Ferrari and pulled out some high-end detailing supplies from the little trunk. They were all brand new and still in the package.

“Do you use all this on your own car?” Agnarr asked.

Hans paused. Then he smiled in an ingratiating manner. “I don’t compromise on quality, Mr. Arendelle. As I said before, I want only the best for Anna.”

As the time passed, Agnarr noticed several things he wasn’t sure that he liked. Hans insisted on doing it all himself, even though Agnarr had offered to help. Whenever Anna caught his eye, Hans flexed and winked.

It was clear to Agnarr that Hans had never washed a car in his life. He was washing randomly instead of methodically, “politely” refusing any suggestions. He was sloppy applying the wax, squirting a long line on the car and working from there. Furthermore, when Hans thought that neither Agnarr nor Anna was looking, he scowled.

Agnarr did not have a good feeling about Hans. He tried to voice his objections to Anna, but she was entirely captivated by how charming, selfless and helpful he was. Hans was, in her eyes, flawless. It was not a good sign.

“I’m not sure it’ll work out,” he admitted to Iduna later on. It pained him to see Anna clinging to Hans’s every word. It was obvious that Anna was utterly besotted with Hans.

“I didn’t know that a car wash was a personality test,” she joked. Her smile faded as she noted his grim expression. “You’re serious?”

He sighed heavily. “He doesn’t take any suggestions or criticism. He shows off when he knows that people are looking. When he thinks nobody’s looking, it’s obvious that he’s not really enjoying himself.” He paused. “And honestly, even Anna could see that he did a terrible job of it.”

“Elsa doesn’t like him, either,” she said. “Something about how he seems insincere to everyone except the person he’s focusing on.”

“Dad had that kind of charm,” Agnarr admitted. “He was better at it, though. Hardly anyone saw his dark side.”

She flinched. “We should warn her.”

“I’m not sure she’d listen. She has an incredibly forgiving heart and Hans will take full advantage of it. You saw how besotted she was with him. I could practically see the hearts floating from her.”

“So we do nothing?” Those words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“No.” He shook his head. “We hope for the best and prepare for the worst. If he tries to isolate her, we find ways to keep in contact. Elsa’s ready to intervene if she has to.”

She nodded. “And what if he goes too far?”

His expression darkened. “Then I will make certain that he never huts anyone again.”

“Just you?” she asked. “You never let me have any fun.”

“Fine, I can go after you,” he sighed. “Not that there would be much left.”

Anna’s enthusiastic greeting to Kristoff’s truck broke Agnarr out of his reverie. He chuckled as Kristoff parked his truck on the side of the road. It was a small gesture of consideration, one of many that he’d observed. Kristoff wasn’t rich and he hadn’t been able to afford the best education, but he was kind and sincere.

“Woof!”

Oh, and Kristoff had a big, friendly dog. The girls had taken to him almost immediately, with Anna babbling baby-talk as Elsa looked embarrassed. Iduna was not immune to Sven’s “puppy in a big body” charm. As for Agnarr, he was fond of the big dog as well—though he tried to be restrained about it.

“Mr. Arendelle,” Kristoff greeted Agnarr politely—and a bit nervously. “Um, I hope you don’t mind that I brought Sven. The big lug didn’t want to stay home.”

“That’s fine,” Agnarr said reasonably. “As long as he behaves himself, I don’t have any problem.”

“He’s a total sweetie, Dad,” Anna said from behind. “Want me to keep an eye on him?” She asked Kristoff.

“That’d be great, thanks,” he said. “If he gets fidgety, you know what to do.”

Opening the door, he grabbed Sven’s leash. The big dog jumped out and waited for Anna to accept the lead. After the obligatory scratch behind the ears and baby talk, she and Sven headed to the shelter of the garage.

“So, um, I brought some stuff with me,” Kristoff admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. “Of course, if there’s something you want to use, I’m okay with that.”

Agnarr scrutinized the equipment in the back of the truck. The microfiber towels had been neatly folded in their own, zip-locked bag. Two buckets with grates inside met with his approval. He did arch an eyebrow at the orbital polisher and pads, something that his late father would have taken issue with. There were spray bottles of wheel cleaner, “ceramic wax,” something for the upholstery and something called “instant detailer.” Everything was in good condition, but it was obvious that the equipment had seen some use.

“Do you think I brought too much?” Kristoff asked nervously. “Maybe I overdid it.”

“I think this will be just fine,” Agnarr said. He turned towards Anna. “What are you in the mood for today?” he asked.

“Well, I really don’t need anything fancy,” she replied. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I could probably get rid of some of those swirl marks,” Kristoff suggested. “If you want, I mean. Think of it as kind of exfoliating your car.”

She lifted an eyebrow at the metaphor. “Well…maybe just the hood and the trunk,” she allowed. She quirked the corner of her mouth in amusement. “You just want to use your little toy, don’t you?”

“Well, I saved up for it,” he admitted. “So, smooth out the hood and trunk, got it.”

Agnarr tried not to chuckle. “You have a polisher, don’t you?”

“It’s nothing fancy,” Kristoff said. “I saved up for it, so I figured I might as well get some mileage out of it.”

“He waxes his truck every few weeks,” Anna said. “You know, I kind of feel bad that you’re doing all this for my car. Maybe I could take care of the upholstery or something?”

The two men shared a look. Anna was dressed practically for the warm weather. There was nothing objectionable about her jean shorts and t-shirt. However, crawling around to wipe down the seats would have been awkward, to say the least.

“How about I walk you through getting your trunk polished?” Kristoff suggested. “It’s not that hard.”

“You’re letting me touch your baby?” Anna asked dubiously.

“My polisher is not my baby,” Kristoff protested. Then there was a warmth in his smile that made her flush. “I trust you.”

“So…you’d let me wax your truck?” she teased.

“Why don’t we start with your car first?” Agnarr gently interrupted. “We don’t want to wait too long, after all.”

Elsa quietly smiled as the men worked on the car. They had been surprisingly efficient and coordinated well together. There were moments when one man had to offer feedback to the other, but neither of them took any offense. It was an unusual kind of camaraderie.

Kristoff was a vast improvement over Hans. What he lacked in funds, he more than made up for in heart. He may have been a little rough around the edges, but there was no doubt that Anna was the most important person in his life.

She heard one breathy sigh, then another. She noted the very contented looks on the faces to either side of her. Then she noted that even in the relatively cool summer weather, Kristoff and her father had worked up quite the sweat, their shirts clinging to them.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, she went into the house. Her sister and mother were oblivious to her absence.

A few moments later, she returned with a tray of drinks and two towels. She set the tray on a nearby work bench and took two tall glasses of lemonade with her.

Anna still had a dazed, dopey expression on her face. Iduna wasn’t much better.

Elsa took Anna’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Sven’s leash, and gently placed the glass in her palm. With a start, she blinked as if she were coming out of a spell.

Elsa did the same for their mother. Iduna’s reaction was much the same as Anna’s.

Elsa couldn’t resist a little smirk. “I thought you two might want something to drink,” she said. “You both looked…thirsty.”

Iduna and Anna rolled their eyes at the double-entendre. Behind the cool exterior that Elsa projected, she could be quite the joker—even if her humor tended to be on the dry side.

“Very funny,” Anna returned. “We’re just appreciating their hard work.”

“We certainly are,” Iduna agreed. “Both of them are very diligent.”

“Well, maybe we could reward their diligence with a towel and a sports drink?” Elsa suggested, gesturing to the tray. “I think they could use it.”

Agnarr wiped the sweat off of his forehead. While he still enjoyed washing cars, he was reminded that he wasn’t a young man anymore. Even though he and Kristoff were cutting the workload in half, he was still going to be sore tomorrow morning.

Still, it was gratifying to see how seriously Kristoff took things. He was methodical and, more importantly, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He concentrated on the job at hand and accepted feedback.

“You’ve had some experience,” he observed. “With washing cars, I mean.”

Kristoff gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I worked part-time at the car wash one summer,” he replied. “I guess it kind of stuck.” He wiped at his brow. “I wouldn’t want to do it for a living, though.”

“I had to…earn things by washing cars,” Agnarr said. “My father was a big believer in hard work.”

Kristoff said nothing. He could tell by the older man’s tone that there were mixed emotions.

Agnarr wiped the sweat off his brow, if only to not drip on his father’s Cadillac. The “beast,” as he jokingly called it, was an ostentatious symbol of his father’s wealth and practicality. It was practical in that any repairs or maintenance could be easily obtained within the town.

As he wiped off a clear path in the baked-on wax, he saw his tired, sweaty reflection in the black depths of the “beast.” He had just spent the last four hours under the hot July sun. Every detail had been supervised by his father, who was resting in the shade with a beer. Every once in a while, his father would shout words of—

“Come on, boy!” Runeard exclaimed. “Put your back into it! In my day, we had to deal with Blue Coral. You’ve got it easy with that wax!”

Agnarr said nothing. His father often deducted from the anticipated payment if he talked back. It was one of the little ways that the family company kept people in line.

It took another half hour to clear off the last of the wax. His arms trembling, he stood up straight and awaited judgment—and hopefully, payment.

Runeard took one last draw of his beer and got up. He circled around the Cadillac and murmured in—well, it wasn’t quite approval. It was more like he acknowledged that the job had been done.

Agnarr tried to keep calm. He didn’t dare show how eager he was to get paid. He couldn’t ever let his feelings show, not in front of his father.

Runeard wiped his index finger down the hood and felt for any errant wax. There was one last murmur as he nodded.

“It’ll do,” Runeard declared. With exaggerated magnanimity, he took out a twenty and handed it to Agnarr. Then the scowl returned as his nostrils flared. “Get cleaned up before you go, boy. And you’d better stay away from those filthy people.”

Agnarr nodded once. The less his father knew about his outings with Iduna, the better.

With one last scowl, Runeard shooed him away from the car. It was the same dismissive gesture he might have used for a servant. It certainly reinforced Agnarr’s place in the world—at least in Runeard’s mind.

Agnarr trudged back into the house. He didn’t have to play up his muscle aches. He did have to remind himself not to smile in front of his father.

Those long, hot hours had been worth it. The aches had been worth it. Above all, Iduna was worth it.

Agnarr forced himself to take long, slow sips of the sports drink as he toweled off the sweat. The exterior had been cleaned and dried, including the wheels. All that was left was the interior and waxing the car.

“You’re in good shape for your age, but don’t overdo it,” Iduna warned him gently. “There’s no one to show off to.”

“I’m not showing off,” he replied. “I’m just…enjoying the moment.”

“What moment?” she asked.

He turned his gaze to where Kristoff was showing Anna the bottle of detailer spray and some sort of yellow clay. He sprayed the hood and wiped the clay across the surface. Then he took a microfiber towel and wiped off any residue.

“See these little dots and specks?” Kristoff pointed to the clay bar. “These are contaminants that stick on your paint. We want to get rid of those before we polish out the swirls. After that, we put on the wax and we’re all set.” He paused. “Here, feel where I just cleaned it up.”

Anna tentatively brushed a finger across the surface. Blue eyes widened in amazement.

“Whoa, that’s…really smooth,” she said. “So, you do this every time you wax your truck?”

He shook his head. “No, this is only once or twice a year. This used to be a big secret for the car shops until a few years ago.”

Iduna turned back to Agnarr and nodded in understanding. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance or condescension in Kristoff’s voice. He merely wanted to inform Anna about something he liked.

As the morning went on, Agnarr noted how patient Kristoff was with Anna. He was a good teacher, putting his polisher in Anna’s hands. It was obvious that Kristoff trusted her implicitly—and she felt the same about him.

By the time they were done, Anna’s Honda had never looked better. Anna and Kristoff took a moment to bask in their shared accomplishment. The car gleamed in the light, despite the clouds coming in.

“Good job, feisty pants,” Kristoff complimented her. “She looks great.”

“Oh, I didn’t do all that much,” she demurred. “You and Dad did all the hard work.”

“Oh, it’s not as hard as the old days,” Agnarr chimed in. “Believe me, I would have been a lot less sore if we had that ceramic wax back then. It’s a lot easier to take off than baked-on Turtle Wax.”

Any further comment was forestalled when Sven sniffed the air. The big dog made a dissatisfied, grumbling sound. Moments later, the sky darkened with an ominous rumble.

“Oh, no…” Agnarr groaned. “There wasn’t supposed to be any rain today!”

“That figures,” Kristoff sighed heavily. He eyed the back of his truck.

Elsa checked her phone. “Looks like there’ll be heavy showers for an hour or two.”

“But we just finished it!” Anna groaned.

Kristoff perked up a little. “Well, I’ve got a tarp in the back of my truck. I could cover up your car until the rain stops.”

Anna blinked. “You’re prepared.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes life is like that. You get little bumps in the road and do the best you can. Experience is the toughest teacher. C’mon, let’s get this done.”

Moments later, Anna’s car was safely covered just before the deluge hit. Everyone watched the rain from inside the garage. Kristoff and Agnarr were toweling off their hair. They were both soaked form the rain.

“Sorry it didn’t work out, sir,” Kristoff said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Agnarr replied. “I’d say that this was a very productive day.”

Kristoff looked at him quizzically. “How so?”

Behind him, Anna looked puzzled while Elsa looked satisfied. Clearly, something was going on.

“Do you have anywhere you need to go?” Agnarr asked casually.

“Not until the rain stops,” Kristoff replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, until then, I suppose that you and Sven are our guests. Do you have any requests for lunch?”

Kristoff held up his hands. “Sir, I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you were looking forward to time with your family.”

“I am,” Agnarr acknowledged with a nod. “Of course, this can include prospective members of my family.”

“But Sven—“

“He’s covered,” Elsa said. She reached in her purse and held up a can of dog food.

Kristoff blinked as Sven leaned against Elsa. “Did you know about this?” he asked Anna.

She shook her head. “Nope. It’s news to me.”

“Relax,” Agnarr said calmly. “I’m not bringing out the shotgun for you two. I’m just asking if you’d like to stay for lunch.”

“I—sure, if it’s no trouble,” he agreed.

“No trouble at all,” Iduna reassured him. “There’s plenty in the Instant Pot to go around.” She opened the door to the house and the smell of hearty stew wafted outside.

“Useful, isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. She paused and dug out something else from her purse. She handed a large, folded square of cloth to Kristoff. “You’ll need this.”

He grimaced at the t-shirt he’d been handed. It wasn’t his, but it was definitely his size. The words “love expert” were boldly emblazoned on the front, complete with hearts.

“Elsa!” Anna exclaimed.

“Yes?” Elsa could not have pretended to be more innocent if she’d batted her eyes.

“You are a stinker. No, you are a scheming, plotting stinker. This was a conspiracy!” Anna declared.

Elsa and Agnarr had matching smirks. That was unsettling to both Anna and Kristoff.

“Well, I didn’t plan on the rain,” Agnarr admitted. “You are welcome in my house.” He paused. “While you are in my house, I do expect you two to…mind your manners.”

Agnarr turned to go inside. He only briefly paused when he passed Elsa.

“They’re blushing, aren’t they?” he murmured.

“Oh, yes,” Elsa agreed.

“Good.”

Elsa lingered for a moment, a smug little smirk on her face. Then she tapped her thigh and Sven followed her inside.

“Your Dad really doesn’t have a shotgun, does he?”

“I…don’t think so. I think he likes you.”

“That’s…good,” Kristoff got out awkwardly. “I mean, it’s better than the alternative.”

Wordlessly, Anna reached out. He gently took her hand as her eyes shone.

“Come on, Mr. Love Expert,” she said. “Let’s have a family lunch.”

Kristoff’s expression softened. “Sounds good to me.”

The End

#frozen #frozines #summer lovin'#agnarr #iduna #agduna #anna #elsa #kristoff #hans #kristanna #my writing

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guessimwritingficsagain · 3 years

Text

To be seen, part Three (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : The birthday party comes and goes. You're pining but get a grim reminder that Frankie has a daughter (and a spouse ?). You want to take a step back from that blooming relationship but things don't go according to plan. You want to surprise Jessie with a nice present.

Author’s note : I rewrote this thing like 4 times but here we are. Just so we are clear, we are NOT about to have a lot triangle between OFC, Frankie, and random new character James. I just want OFC to have some wholesome relationships and to be her own person besides her new relationship with Frankie and the boys (which, btw, a writer, a friend of mine actually, told me "sometimes you write about what you can't have" and boy didn't that hurt because I'm currently in the process of grieving a friendship that could have been so good if not for the fact that we have very different ways of seeing friendship ... so I guess that James comes from that, a little). The former version had Frankie being more forward but I do like a slooooow burn and also it felt OOC.

Anyway,

the song Sweet is by Porridge Radio.

The song Canción sin Miedo is by Vivir Quintana.

The French radio that only plays women, trans and NB people is a real thing : it's called Radio Tempête and I like it very much. Give it a try !

There had been questions. Linda had grilled you hard and actually told you to go for it. It felt nice, all of it, up until you’d asked Linda why she was here. She'd grown sheepish.

« I need a new start. A change of pace. And I- I miss you, not, you know, like that, but I miss my friend, and I figured a new start with an old friend, that could be nice. »

You’d nodded, wondering if there was something she was not telling you, but figuring she’d get to it in her own time. In the meantime, she was here. And it was nice. She got along immediately with both Jessie and Anna and could make Phil laugh like no one else. Still, there were things that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You two had a history, just like you had with Jessie and Anna, but not the same kind and five years was a long time not to see each other.

That’s why you waited until Linda was playing with Clara to tell Jessie, quietly :

« That fifth guy who used to hang out with the boys ? »

Jessie looked surprised. She was usually the one fishing for information. You knew why you were telling her that : to share the epiphany you had, to remind her, and yourself, that these men were real people. And maybe, just maybe, to remind her in a way that there was a real world out there.

« He’s dead. »

The air grew quiet at that. You looked at her face. She nodded, juste the once. And then, never brought the boys up the way she used to. She asked for news, once in a while, but never again in the giddy way she used to do it.

———

Right. So maybe, maybe, you’d gone a little overboard with that birthday party, but the kid had lost her father a year ago and she deserved nice things.

Right ?

They didn’t have to know the bar didn’t actually own fancy, festive plates and an army of balloons. Besides, everybody had pitched in. And Phil had made an extra nice menu. It’d been a team effort, really. Except that when Linda came in to grab a coffee after work - she was working at the local bookstore and that made your heart clench a little - she raised her eyebrows and said :

« You said seventeen, right ? Because I think you’re going for seven, here. »

So. You were a bit nervous, which, what the hell ?? They weren’t your friends. They were paying consumers. Except you were fooling yourself there because you were pretty sure that paying consumers didn’t quite cover it.

But when Santi came in with her, the girl swallowed by a huge scarf to protect her from November’s chilly air, you saw the smile on her face, you knew it’d been worth it. Santi actually came and hugged you and whispered « thank you, Starbuck » before giving Anna a high-five.

Yeah, the Starbuck thing had stuck. And you might have started calling Santiago Santi.

You were introduced to the birthday girl -Sarah- who was lovely and perhaps, you realized quickly, a tiny bit smitten with Anna, in a when-I-grow-up-I-wanna-be-her kind of way. Anna, of course, was completely oblivious. They sat down at the counter first, waiting for their friends to get here, her with a coke, him with a beer, and you were content to just let them be. It was a moment you felt was too private for your tentative relationship.

Sarah hugged Frankie as he came in and you did not let your mind wonder what it would feel like. Beers to serve. Mind out of the gutter. But he came to find you, and he looked at you with those soft eyes and he leaned in a bit and you couldn’t help but smile. And he smiled back, elbows on the counter, so close.

« You didn’t have to do all that. »

His voice was barely a whisper, and you answered the same way :

« I know. »

He was looking at you like he was seeing you and you got that warm feeling again, at the center of your belly. There was nothing, for a few seconds, except his brown eyes, until Anna cleared her throat and you were reminded you were at work. You turned back to get a beer for Frankie, but were interrupted again by a hand on your arm. Anna was looking at you and asked, as quietly as possible :

« What was that ? »

Her eyes were kind, there was no teasing in her voice but you shrugged the question off anyway. You didn’t know what that was. And it wasn’t the time nor the place.

———

The birthday party had been a success, and the night would have been perfect if not for Phil’s pragmatism. He knew you, he could tell, and your little admission a while back, when under the fire of Linda’s questioning that maybe you had a tiny little crush hadn’t fooled him.

Oh, the mortifying ordeal of being known.

He’d came up to you when you’d been cleaning the coffee machine and he’d said :

« He has a kid, you know that. »

He’d left it at that, knowing it was enough.

And that was just the thing, right : you knew. And with kids usually came a spouse. He probably had a lovely one, someone pretty and smart and funny and soft just like he was. So you’d decided to take some emotional distance, just to keep it professional. Paying costumers, after all.

Of course you were fooling yourself, you were protecting yourself from something that had the possibility to break you heart. And that, that was the worst part, the scary part, because you remembered vividly not thinking about Linda that way and then she’d said I like you, I really like you, you know, in a way that makes me want to make out with you. And you’d realized you liked her in a way that made you want to make out with her too. Back then the closet had been a thing, a hard one to get out of, even though your parents loved you unconditionally, no matter how many tattoos they disapproved of covered your body, no matter who you dated. You just hadn’t realized what you’d felt for her until she’d spelled it out for you. It’d been beautiful and simple and safe.

Here, though, you were thirsting on a man a tiny bit older than you, who had a daughter, who was probably married. And you’d been avoiding thinking about that, and he never mentioned anyone. But you knew you needed to get a grip on those spiraling feelings.

You needed to refocus, and in doing so, you realized something that filled you with shame and guilt : you’d overlooked Jessie entirely. The Christmas Holidays were coming up and you hadn’t made any plans with her. You’d been so caught up in your world that, for the first time in years, you forgot about her. The fact she worked day shifts and you night shifts now meant that you saw less of each other. And since Linda got here, and the boys were around more, and you didn’t need to babysit Clara as much, you’d seen even less of her.

But you had a plan.

———

The plan showed up on your doorstep a few days later, greeting you when you opened the door with :

« I hope you finally threw away that ugly couch and that the new one is comfortable. »

Here he stood, in all of his stupid glory : James. Their parents probably had a weird sense of humor to call their first born Jessie and their second one James. Or maybe you had a weird sense of humor for noticing it.

Here’s a bit of a backstory : James was your age, and you’d actually been friends since you were ten. Attached-to-the-hip kind of friends. I-don’t-care-about-anyone-else kind of friends. He used to be your only friend, back then, because he was just enough. Jessie, being five years older, had no real interest in you whatsoever so you only befriended her later, when her ass of an ex-husband skipped town and you got a panicked call from James one morning asking if you could help his sister to find a job because she used to be a stay-at-home mom and now she really needed the cash. James couldn’t come home to help her, so you’d had to help Jessie. Not that it’d been a problem.

And James, James was spectacular in the way he never settled for anything. He’d left home to go to Harvard and then became a bloody CIA agent because why not. Except he hadn’t liked that so he’d quit the bloody CIA and opened a restaurant in Washington. The President of the United States of America ate there, on a regular basis.

(Sometimes, when life got too hard and you got too caught up in your own mind, and you felt you weren’t enough, you wondered why a man like that bothered to skype you twice a month, and one time, drunk and alone on your birthday, you’d left him a voicemail asking him that very thing and he’d given you so much shit for that you never asked again. You were his girl, forever and always.)

So you’d called him, explained the whole Jessie thing, and the guilt that came with it.

Now there he was, ready to hide in your apartment while you got everything set to give your girl Jessie the surprise she deserved. You let Phil and Anna in on the secret that was James, just so he could come to the bar when he wanted and no one would tell Jessie about it.

That’s how you found yourself jumping slightly at the abrupt change of a song, one night at the bar, and you declared, knowing who it was :

« Costumers don’t get to change the music. »

The only answer you got was a laugh. You turned around to see James, bending over the counter to get to the computer, all crinkled eyes and white teeth.

« Don’t tell me you don’t like hearing Sweet. » He quipped.

« I like that song », you explained as you secretly rejoiced in hearing the familiar notes. « But that doesn’t mean you get to play anything you want. I know you, you get too comfortable. »

He sat down at the bar, a bit away from the boys who were joking and laughing at the counter. Benny had won his fight and got a girl’s number so it was a good night for him, the kind of night you didn’t want to intrude on. Except you wished you could, and that, that was a red flag in itself because usually, when James was around, there was nobody else in the world but you still thought about Frankie, about how you wished you were sitting on the other side of the counter, pressed against him, laughing at whatever it was that had been said. Paying consumers, right ?

You’d been serving beers left and right, only stopping a moment to get another round to the boys when you heard :

« Where the fuck is that French radio playlist ? You know, radio that only plays songs by women, trans and non-binary people ? I know you have one, can’t seem to find it. »

« James. »

You turned around. He was standing behind the counter.

« How on earth did you get there ? »

« I jumped. You were busy, didn’t see it. Anyway. That playlist ? There’s some good shit on that. Though we might want to avoid the songs too obviously sexual, right ? »

You let out the biggest sigh. Of course he'd jumped. Of course he’d find that absolutely normal. You waived him away and got to find the playlist.

« I wanna hear Canción sin Miedo. » He added, all but propped up on the counter.

« Get down. Also your accent is shit. » You hissed. You complied, though.

As the Mexican song started playing, Will gave you a look.

« That’s Jessie’s brother. » You explained, your voice still a touch exasperated.

« But that’s a secret. » James added, still very much sitting on the counter. He smiled and said : « Hi, I’m James. Like Bond. James Bond. Nobody ever saw the two of us in the same room, by the way. »

He winked and you ugly snorted.

———

The noise was overwhelming and the place reeked of beer and sweat but Anna was steering you gently through the crowd and Linda’s hand was grounding, on your shoulder. MMA fights were not your scene but Benny had asked and Anna had said yes before you could get a word in. You’d called Linda in a panic, muttering you know how I get in crowded spaces and she’d offered to come.

You still didn’t know how Anna managed to get your boss to give you both the day off for that but you were glad.

You heard Benny come in more than you saw him, and Anna guided you to the place where Santi, Frankie and Will were. Santi made a jab at Linda, who laughed it off and introduced herself at the others. She was blending in with ease, as always. You, though, felt lost, until you sensed someone right next to you. Lifting your head, you saw Frankie hand you a drink, before his hand came and gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to a sit right next to him.

« You okay ? » he asked in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath, his hand still on your arm.

You explained right in his own ear :

« Crowed spaces. »

You felt his hand give a squeeze and, without thinking, tapped his thigh in a way you hoped would convey your thanks. Then, you held onto your drink for dear life, as Benny started beating the shit out of the other guy.

———

Benny was breaking down his fight, as the other men pitched in with a comment, once in a while. You hadn't exactly enjoyed the fight, but Frankie's presence and explanations had made the whole thing better. You drew the line, though, at debriefing, so you turned to Linda :

« So, how was your date ? »

« Nice. »

« Nice ? Just nice ? But she was bloody gorgeous. You showed me pictures ! »

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were because next think you knew, Anna was leaning in, wiggling eyebrows, and the rest of the table grew awfully quiet. You turned to see all the eyes on you.

« Who was bloody gorgeous ? » Santi inquired.

« My date. »

Everybody was listening, now. You motioned her to go ahead.

« Well, her yoga lessons came in handy, if you know what I mean but … yeah … yoga. Pilates. Rabbit food. »

« Well, you still got her to do some yoga » you replied with a wink.

That got Anna to spit her drink.

« She was plenty good at that, but, yeah. »

She shrugged and too a sip of her beer.

« Wait, she ?»

So yeah, Santi hadn’t caught on the Linda’s a lesbian train yet. Though to be fair, he’d seen her once, twice counting tonight.

« Got a problem with that ? » Linda asked.

You felt the tension roll off of her and you couldn’t blame her. You never really knew how people were going to take your coming out, no matter how well you knew the person. And she didn’t know Santi at all.

He hurriedly shook his head.

« No, I just didn’t expect it, is all. »

He lit up, then, and you could almost see the bad idea that came to his mind.

(Maybe you were starting to know him after all.)

« I could be your wingman, and you my wingwoman. »

« No fucking way, Santiago. »

You laughed as you listened to Linda give a few more details, sweet Anna beaming in awe as the discussion went to Linda’s great adventures in dating.

« So, you’re a serial dater. » the younger woman exclaimed.

« She was never good at settling » you confirmed.

Linda turned to you and, with mock outrage, asked :

« Never good at settling ? Do those two years with you mean nothing ? »

You laughed and she laughed and Anna laughed and Benny all but shrieked :

« You two dated ??? »

That only made your belly clench even more, the laughter an unstoppable force, Linda warm by your side, Anna crying from laughter, Santi and his existential crisis because he’d hit on a lesbian and suddenly everything made sense because nobody said no to Santiago - at least that was what your were feeling he was thinking. And Benny, just confused, said :

« I didn’t know you swung that way. »

The sentence was meant for you, you knew that, but before you could calm down, another voice, one you’d recognize anywhere, anytime, answered for you :

« Oh, she swings every fucking way, right, baby ? »

You turned around sharply and there he was, again, James. Right on time. He settled right next to you, his warmth a comforting presence. You swallowed the anxiety down. Everything would be alright.

And everything was.

Because fifteen minutes later, Jessie was coming in, Clara in her arms, wondering what the emergency Phil called about was. You would forever remember the look on her face when she saw her brother sitting right there. The blinding smile, the way James took Clara in his arms and cooed.

It was going to be a good night (again).

———

« That was real nice of you », Frankie mumbled. « What you did back there, with Jessie and her bother. »

You’d stepped out to have a smoke and he’d joined you, hands in pockets, just standing there, not close enough to touch you but close enough that you could feel him.

« You two seem close », he stated after a bit.

That wasn’t jealousy. That you could tell.

« He’s my best friend, I guess. »

« He seems nice », Frankie stated. « A bit over the top but then again, I’m friends with Pope so … »

You had a flashback, then, of your first encounter with Benny, and asked :

« What’s with the nicknames anyway ? »

« We served … » Frankie started. You cut him off.

« Yeah, I know, but. What does it mean ? »

Frankie just smiled, then, took a step closer to you, shoulders brushing. You felt hot, all of a sudden.

« A callsign is trust » he explained and then quietly added :

« Starbuck »

You managed to keep it together. You kept it together because paying consumers. You kept it together because that man had a daughter and was probably married and what he’d just said was said out of friendliness.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader #triple frontier

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