#mostly my internal longing to be a kid forever and fall into my mother's arms again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Weird, “Autograph.”

Wrote this between sporadic bouts of studying because I have the attention span of a flea and the motivation of a blob fish. So This is for those of you asking about what happened after “Movie Star.”

He watched his shuttle hit altitude and then vanish into a pristine blue sky. The roaring of the engines faded away until there was nothing but the distant thunder of jet engines, so much quieter in comparison to the wild screaming of the spacefaring craft headed on her way back to the Harbinger, and a crew that would be captained by his second in command. It hurt him to think that someone else would be captaining his ship, that she'd be in deep space without him.

He wondered if this is what it felt like for a parent to leave their child for the first time.

It all just made his heart ache, and he had the sudden desire to call and make sure she hadn’t spontaneously combusted as soon as he had entered that shuttle leaving her on the docking port moonside.

“Yep, she totally exploded, the entire crew is dead and their ashes will forever float through space.” He turned his head to glower at Conn floating at his back and staring up into the sky with a grin.

“Shut the hell up Conn.”

“Make me.”

“Do I need to remind you that the only thing between you and a snapped spine is a gravitational chastity belt.” he snarled

Conn adjusted the gravity field harness around his narrow-protruding hips, “Speaking of chastity belts-”

He held up a hand, “NO-no I am stopping that line of conversation right there.”

A gentle hand rested on one of his shoulders, and he turned to find Sunny standing over him her head tilted slightly to one side. The expression she had on was almost comical for an alien without human facial structures, “They’ll be fine.” Then she slapped him on the back making him stagger forward, “Now stop frowning, You should be excited.”

He straightened himself out adjusting his jacket.

To his side, Krill sighed and looked up at the sky with an almost longing expression.

“What’s your problem?” Sunny wondered

The Vrul sighed, “The amount of time I spend on a class A death planet is really making me question my sanity.”

“You’re only now beginning to question your sanity?” Adam wondered wryly as he looked around the tarmac. Aside from a couple of baggage carriers, and people in bright orange vests, there was no one here, and no way to tell where they were supposed to go.

“Ha ha, funny ...Where are we going?”

“Guess we sort of just head towards the terminal?” He glanced towards the taxiways between them and the terminal and shook his head. That didn’t seem likely, but also…. There was no one here, “Or not…. I would expect at least someone to be here.”

Sunny crossed her arms in annoyance, “Seems kind of rude they would ask you to come and then just…. Leave you.”

His eyes scanned over the tarmac once more, baggage carts, buggies, distant buses, a fancy black car, but nothing close by. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, “May as well walk to those people over there and ask them. I don’t want to get in the way of the planes.”

Adam, followed by his extraterrestrial entourage slowly began heading in that direction. A bus rolled by them going the opposite direction, and the black car from earlier turned onto the same road to roll past. Adam kept walking.

“Commander!..... Commander Vir.”

The group of them spun in a tight circle turning to face the car, which turned out to be a limousine, the front window rolled down, and a man in a dark suit leaning out.

Adam looked around like there was someone else by that name standing behind him before pointing at himself, “I ur…. Me.”

The man parked the car and stepped out reaching over to open the car door, “Mr. Ellis apologizes that he couldn’t meet you in person, but he hopes that you will find his personal car satisfactory. Adam blinked like a deer in the headlights, “Er… uh… are you sure you’ve got the right person?” He eyed the car.

“You stupid or something?” Conn wondered floating towards the door and vanishing inside the car, much to the driver’s confusion and surprise. He stared after Conn with wide eyes before turning to look at Adam.

“Believe it or not he's actually pretty tame for his species.” The commander sighed stepping forward and thanking the man awkwardly as he slid inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure if satisfaction was the word he’d use to describe how he felt. Everything, and he meant everything was extravagant and eccentric to the extreme. Crystal glasses, with the appropriate liquor, adjustable colored lights, heated seats in a fabric he couldn’t even name, the absolute definition of leg-room so that even Sunny was comfortable. There was a TV just above the far end turned to the news, a snack bar, a sun roof. He folded his hands in his lap afraid to touch anything for fear of damaging it.

Sunny scooted to sit next to him while Conn and Krill took the other side.

Conn leaned back in his seat, “Not bad.”

“You would say that.” Adam muttered leaning a little closer to Sunny hands pinned between his knees so as not to touch anything.

Sunny had no such qualms sprawling out like she owned the place head resting back onto a fluffy set of cushions just before the window, “Now this, I could get used to.”

Adam disagreed, there was no way that he would ever be able to get used to something like this. In fact, at this moment he was wondering what he was even doing here, hanging out in famous people’s fancy cars with private drivers. He wasn’t special enough for something like that. In fact, he was a soldier, that was it, and arguably not even a very good one. He was just some lucky son of a bitch who had alien friends and a spaceship somehow by coincidence.

He should have been happy, but felt himself wilt internally as he looked around the car at all the fancy things.

Conn watched him from across the car but said nothing.

Unfortunately for him, Sunny caught the tension glancing between him and Conn.

The were rolling out of the LAX tarmac as she spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Adam interjected over Conn, who continued to speak through Adam.

“Boo hoo, oh woe is me, I’m not special enough enough to be here, I am just an average guy who's not even actually good at anything wa ... was.”

Adam snarled at Conn, “get the hell out of my head Conn.”

“You can’t just leave your mind dangling open for all your thoughts to flop out.”

“Thanks for phrasing the analogy that way Conn, I appreciate it.” he leaned back in his seat arms now crossed, “And yeah, I feel a bit out of place. I should be back up with my men doing something useful but here I am being treated all special by people who barely even know me. If they really did they wouldn’t be half as interesting. If they knew how half the stuff I did was pure dumb luck, or how i spend most of the scared out of my mind. How I’m not some kind of badass.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, the story of the man whose dumb lluck led him to being the most important human in the galaxy is totally boring. Yawn, I am falling asleep already.”

“You don’t even yawn.”

“Why do you think I said yawn instead of actually yawning then?”

He growled, “My point is, I just feel out of place.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity Adam. Having dumb luck that put you in a position for people to look up to you. You think these people got here because they are ACTUALLY special. No, they got here because their parents were famous, or because they got into good acting schools when they were kids, or because they knew a guy. All of these people got lucky, aren’t actually special, and there are plenty of people out there more talented than they are, but at this point they are so famous no one cares anymore.”

Adam sat in silence contemplating the thought, “II mean…. When you put it like that.”

“You know it's because I am always right.” Sunny said smugly.

He turned his head towards the window watching the city pass by below them. LA was the largest and one of the most ancient cities on the continent. Of course it spoke nothing of a city like Rome or London, but it was still pretty impressive. The entire place was so shiny and white mixed with delicate greenery all built on the bones of the slums. Not only was LA one of the oldest cities on the continent it was also one of the richest. The further they went the nicer the already nice buildings got reaching towards the sky all shiny and white.

Massive mansions dominated the distance with high gates and private shuttle pads.

The sky above them was dominated by flying cars, private shuttles, and the occasional jet. One mansion they passed by was so big, it seemed as if the front facade went on for almost a mile intertwined with many decorative fountains and trimmed hedges upkeep exclusively by robots.

They turned down another street heading into the city with expensive outlet malls and large flashy brand names that probably cost as much as the warp core used to power his ship. He was both parts intimidated and stunned leaning towards the window to stare at all the strange people that walked the sidewalks.

He turned his head following a very excessively dressed man in a tailored ball gown that took up most of the sidewalk.

Where he grew up in the suburbs, there had been people who dressed according to plenty of other time periods, but the trend had been early 2000s mostly thanks to his mother who performed the modest almost utilitarian style of their clothing plus they had never been rich enough to afford new fashion. Jeans were cheap, easy to make, a staple of the poor masses. Not that they had been poor poor per say, after the war his father worked as a farmhand for Megafarm producing millions of pounds of produce, while his mother had quit teaching to pursue business in talor-making period accurate clothing for those who were into that sort of thing. As a result, his family had been middle middle class.

But this…. This was for the 1%. A place he had never even dreamed of seeing.

He looked down at himself again, shabby jeans, black T-shirt and a hand me down leather jacket from his older brother David, which had seen better days.

He sunk down in his seat.

They took another corner and pulled up to the gate. He craned his neck to look out the window glancing up to the large sign hanging over the gate which read.

HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS.

Named for the ancient strip of land which produced many of the early movies when film was in its infancy. Once famous for the land and the people who lived there, it was now famous for being the highest grossing film studio EVER. A powerhouse of film that practically monopolized the world of action. While a lot of people demonized the studio for being a monopoly on film, Adam could see why.

They made some good shit.

The gate buzzed open and they were driven inside. He HAD to get a better look rolling open the skylight and standing to look out the top of the car. Hundreds of people dressed in costumes, carrying props, cameras, equipment. Mouth open like an idiot he stared through open warehouse doors and onto virtual projected sets on which actors stood in full costume, or in motion capture suits. Camera men walked around in massive exoskeletons controlling up to ten cameras at once.

A dog trotted past with a handler, a dog that Vir recognized from plenty of movies in which she had starred tail wagging tongue lolling. He dropped back inside the car with wide eyes staring at Sunny who was also looking out the window with wide eyes.

The car came to a stop towards the end of the strip, but then picked up again rolling into one of the giant warehouses and pulling to a stop. The engine cut, and the doors opened. He stepped out thanking the Driver.

“Commander Vir! Just who I wanted to see!” He turned just in time to catch Director Ellis, or more like be blinded by him, as he skipped up wearing his strange sequin suit and cat-eye glasses. Instead of going for the handshake the man grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “It’s so exciting to finally have you here. You will be so excited to see what we have done. Just like you said, being as accurate as possible’ it's been a real challenge, but I assure you, you will be so proud. We have done so much research, and I have talked to experts everywhere”

A mousy little woman scuttled after him holding two cups of coffee looking frazzled and exhausted as she tried to keep up with her boss.

Members of the crew looked up from where they were standing and a few exclamations of awe went up, and he couldn’t blame them, aliens were pretty cool. Despite Conn being a total asshole, he cut an impressive figure of billowing white ribbon and slow ethereal movement.

The man pulled back eyes widening at Conn, “You will be an absolute bitch to animate,”

“Match his personality.” Sunny quipped stepping out of the car.

She was greeted excessively by the director as well as Krill.

A sizable crowd had gathered, and Adam stepped back intending to allow his non-human friends the attention they deserved.

That’s not exactly what ended up happening. Stepping out of the circle he heard a shriek that made him nearly leap out of his skin. He turned to find a young woman with large glasses wearing a grey suit and pencil skirt. There was a pile of papers and a clipboard on the ground at her feet like she had dropped them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him mouth open.

“Er…… are you ok?” He ventured leaning down to pick up her papers.

When he stood back up she was still frozen her eyes wide. He offered her papers back.

That broke her from her frozen state but beginning with her hands which started to shake frantically in front of her. The shaking grew wider and wider, her expression grew more excited and she began to leap up and down squealing, “No way, no way…. No way no way no way.” That devolved until she was simply squealing with excitement.

Adam stepped back in shock and confusion, “It’s really you I can't believe it!”

She rushed forward arms out then paused, “Can I?” Her expression was so innocent and excited, her eyes so wide that he didn’t know how to respond.

“Er ...sure.”

She nearly broke his back wrapping her arms around him and squealing in delight again knocking her glasses askew. He grunted as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Despite being tiny she was surprisingly strong, and he felt his feet lightening upon the ground hands held out to the side still clutching her clipboard.

She stepped back after a moment with a big smile, her glasses canted at an awkward angle, “Can i get a picture with you.” She begged

He glanced over his shoulder still not convinced that she hadn’t mistaken him for someone, “Um, Are you sure. I Maybe you have the wrong person.”

She shook her head vigorously giggling, “No, I’d know you anywhere. Commander Vir, the first man to meet sentient life, participated in the Drev war, commanding the first fleet of interstellar ships. You are my HERO.” She looked at him with eyes so wide, so innocent and starstruck that he hardly knew what to say.

He wondered if maybe he was dreaming.

“Picture?” She pleaded

“Um ... uh yeah, sure I guess.” She squealed again this time causing him to drop her clipboard as she grabbed him by the arm pulled him in and whipped out her phone snapping at least ten pictures of them before letting him go. “Mr. Vir it is such an honor.” She was saying, “I’ve read everything about you, all the declassified transmissions. Like that time you saved an alien race from extinction, or that time you ran a marathon on a A-1 death planet, or or like the three times you've saved entire planets.”

“Oh I…. really?”

She nodded, “Yes, Mr. Vir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You can just call me Adam.”

He was nearly defined in the next moment as she shrieked again and hugged him.

“What’s your name?”

She put her hands over her mouth eyes wide, “S-samantha, but- but my friends call me Sammy…..You can call me Sammy.” He blinked in confused surprise and a bit of self consciousness feeling himself go a bit red.

She may have been star struck, but he was sort of struck by her being star struck. This had to be some sort of dream, even more confusing when he realized the circle of people he assumed had been there for his alien companions had ll circled themselves around him.

Men and women, stage crew, and actors in motion capture suits gathered around wide eyed and smiling.

He spun in a slight circle staring around at all the faces.

A man stepped from the crowd, a young guy in a motion capture suit. He held out a hand, “Commander, Ezra Hemming. I Well I guess I’m the stunt double for…. For your stunt double? Keith Jenning.”

“So? You’ll be doing all the legwork?”

The young man blushed.” I guess you could say that.”

Did he seriously seem nervous? It seemed so strange, and all these people were looking at him, approaching him, wanting to talk to him. It was insane, he shook so many hands learned so many names in such a short amount of time. At some point there was a hydraulic hiss, and the crowd around him parted.

A woman walked towards them elevated on a set of robotic stilt legs, wearing a motion capture suit, and an exoskeleton that gave her an extra set of arms. Vir felt his mouth drop open. Rita Ortiz… the penultimate action hero casting choice, and someone he had a boyish crush on for…. Well a couple of years now.

In her exo suit, she was as tall as sunny, which he assumed was the point, “Commander.” She said politely.

“Ms. Ortiz…. Er…. Can I….. get your autograph.” He stammered out feeling stupid almost immediatly, but to his surprse she broke into a wide smile.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Make it a deal and trade mine for yours.”

He choked with a rather sporadic laugh not believing her in the slightest.

Some of the crowd finally noticed his alien friends and Ms. Ortiz seemed especially interested in sunny, for obvious reasons. The two stepped up to each other examining the other with a critical eye.

Sunny seemed pleased.

Samantha lurked next to him, and he had a feeling she was trying to be discreet, but it wasn’t working. He was still wigging out about this hardly able to believe it. At some point, someone grabbed him and dragged him towards the director's chair where Ellis was was talking to some of the writers.

He turned in his chair, “Adam…. May I call you Adam, Good, the writers and I were just going over the script, and well we have run into a few snags. You gave us a pretty detailed explanation on some of the things that happened, but this part right here, the part where you lose your leg….. It's very vague.”

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly glancing over to where Sunny was showing the actress how to more properly move like a Drev. A few of the VFX people were there as well examining her armor, its color and debating how best to reproduce that in post.

“Well I….. It was taken off during the Drev war.”

“I mean, yeah we got that, and not to push but…. Unless you want us to cut that part out.”

He glanced again towards Sunny.

“I…. its hard to talk about.”

A hand on his shoulder, “I understand, I quite understand….”

He mulled it over for a minute while the writers were talking heart hammering in his chest. He had never told Sunny…. Never really explained about his post traumatic stress related to that incident. Never really mentioned how long it took him to trust her, and he never would.

He'd never fess up to the nightmares.

Because he didn’t want them to matter anymore.

“I can’t explain it to you but…. I can show you.” The group of them turned almost surprised, and he was honestly surprised at himself too. What he was about to do…. It was a bigger deal than any of them might assume.

“Sunny!” he turned, and the bright blue alien trotted over humming happily the way that Drev did. She seemed so happy, nothing like the creature in his dreams, his friend, his best friend.

“Yes?”

“I…. Well I need to show them how I lost my leg, hard to explain, so I thought we might show them.”

He watched Sunny carefully, and was probably the only one who noticed the slight wilt in her shoulders. The guilt flashing in her gold eyes…. Of course the thing in his dreams would never have felt that way, “Oh ... are you sure.”

He cleared his throat waving it off, “Of course, here.” he stepped forward motioning around the room, “I remember the rocks being sort of like this. There was a shallow sort of bowl like a pocket and some rocks here. There were actually a Tesraki and a rundi soldier right there, and I was over here.”

The crew, following his words began moving around the greenscreen landscape creating the sort of space that he was talking about.

“Now I had one of those older models M-23s pieces of shit, and a knife.” He reached out for the prop weapon offered to him, “And the drev had a spear.” He glanced towards Sunny, who was looking very, very uncomfortable, but someone handed her the prop spear. She looked down at it and swivel it in her hand like the thing was an extension of her body.

She didn’t seem particularly satisfied but didn’t say anything. He moved up onto the fake terrain, and she did the same looking over at him with concern. It was almost as if she knew that even though he had never bothered to tell her.

He came up one side of the set while she came up the other; she had the spear held out ready, and he had the gun up. Of course, he dropped it on it’s sling when it supposedly overheated,

He remembered this like it had been yesterday, how the rock had felt under his feet, the panic he had felt for the two defenseless soldiers she was stalking. He remembered panicking when the gun malfunctioned, he remembered how he wasn’t thinking straight. He remembered making the decision that cost him his leg.

He didn’t bother trying to go easy on her, catching her around the neck and raising his hand with the collapsable knife.

The world began to spin, and before his eyes he saw the ash and fire.

He heard the gunfire felt his body moving as it once had. Saw the dark shadow, heard the screaming and felt the hot air over his body. He remembered the knife biting into her skin. He remembered being thrown to the ground.

Set lights flashed around him as he slammed into the floor, padded but still painful as he rolled to the side. Sunny’s foot came down right next to his head as he rolled to the side cutting at her heels.

The creature reached down to grab him, but he rolled to his feet cutting at the hand.

He remembered the sweat trickling down his body from the great heat of the volcanoes. He remembered how the ash had coated the stone making things strangely slippery. He remembered the poorly equipped gear and the oversized shoes.

He remembered slipping backwards landing hard on his back as the spear cut downwards.

He remembered bone cracking and flesh splitting in half.

He braced for pain but none came. The fire died, the ash vanished, and he found himself on the ground hands over his face, a spear tip lightly grazing the outer carapace of his prosthetic leg. Sunny stood over him spear held in one of her lower arms. Though her posture was ready for a fight, her eyes….. So much more expressive than that of the creature he remembered from his vision, looked at him in worry and something that looked like pain.

He lay on the ground looking up at her, at her mercy, just like he had been on that day.

And he knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

She withdrew the spear and stepped back offering one hand to him.

He didn’t hesitate to take it, and she hauled him to his feet.

Together, they turned to look at the spectators who were looking on in awe,and shock.

Quietly sunny began, “Our orders were to remove their limbs…. In our culture Disability IS death. We thought that simply removing their limbs would stop them…. We were wrong.”

Adam tried to keep his voice light, “I don't remember much, but I crawled about ….50 feet down that hill before someone managed to find me and stabilize me. The leg was completely gone, no hope of reattaching something that’s just gone.”

“That was….. Intense.” Ellis finally cut in, “We should have had some cameras rolling dammit. Can we recreate that!” He began ordering his men around, and for a moment, the two of them were forgotten in the crowd. He stood there quietly noticing on the instant as two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him. Enveloping him in an armored hug that almost completely encased him…. Safe.

A voice at his ear.

“Don’t EVER make me do that again.”

He placed a hand over hers, “Never, I promise.”

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writersrealmbts · 5 years ago

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Shattered Pieces: Glue

Description: Kittens and Cubs grow quickly, and life goes on faster than you would like, but you still get to enjoy the ride.

Warnings: If this doesn’t destroy you a little, I give up as a writer.

Posted: 03/16/2020

Tags: hybrid bts, yoongi x reader

Mostly fluff with a surprise: 4,288 words

A/N: Last Part!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been really stuck on this for a while, and I just wanted to finish this series so I could move on. So, I hope you guys like it and please let me know what you think of it!!!!!

You checked the clock again, then shrugged at Hoseok. “If they’re not back in half an hour we might have to send a search party.”

He nodded. “I know they thought to do this because Jimin used to catch the turkey every year, but Jimin spent days getting the turkey, and he mostly rounded up turkeys and then picked the one he wanted and released the others before humanely killing the turkey. A couple days before he planned to cook it.”

You rolled your eyes. “They were determined.”

“Predators,” Jungkook sighed, dramatic. He jumped back as you slapped at him for sneaking bites of the stuffing that you were preparing for tomorrow.

Jin hummed softly. “The babes are awake.”

You smiled and followed him to the nursery, checking on your coloring babes (all but Jihun—who had been dragged along despite his reservations) before getting your bitty babes who were still roly-polying in their separate cribs.

Yerin was babbling a little.

Cheolmin was sucking on his hand, but his eyes fell onto you and smiled.

Soyoung was barely awake.

You picked up Cheolmin, cuddling him close with a purr. “Look at my sleepy boy.”

Jin had Yerin, changing her diaper while she made various babble noises. “I still can’t believe they went hunting on Christmas Eve Day. There’s so much to do! I know Namjoon hasn’t finished Christmas shopping yet.”

“He’ll realize his mistake sooner or later.” You shrugged a little, and rubbing Soyoung’s belly as the kitten slowly blinked awake. She had mostly black fur like Yoongi, and you honestly thought she was the spitting image of her appa if it weren’t for the white stripe on the back of her left ear.

Yerin had your coloring.

Cheolmin was mixed between the two of you, but he had his dad’s eyes.

Yerin had your mother’s eyes, and sometimes when she blinked up at you….

You smiled softly as you stepped to the side for Hoseok to pick up Soyoung.

“So soft,” Jin whispered, nuzzling one of Yerin’s ears. “Baby fur is the best. Misuk’s baby fur is growing out.”

“I know, she’s getting big.” You sighed in resignation. “Soon we won’t have baby-soft fur to play with on her.”

“Terrifying,” Hoseok said, shuddering. “They’re growing too quickly.”

“Jihun reminds me of Jimin when we first met him,” Jin said, smiling.

Jungkook grinned and nodded. “I know. I found a picture of us from back then.”

“You’ll have to show me,” You said, pushing away the dissatisfaction of not being able to meet your cubs real parents. It was driving you crazy, because you couldn’t even watch their home videos because no one knew where they were. They’d been searching for the past three weeks because Jihun asked about it at Thanksgiving and all of them were certain there were home videos but none of them were certain where they were. You figured you’d probably find them the moment you started looking, because that’s a mom’s superpower and you’ve had that power for a long time. You just hadn’t had the chance since the kids were especially clingy ever since you’d had the kittens. You didn’t mind, it wasn’t an unhealthy clingyiness, but the addition of the milky scent on you made you a little more motherly and comforting to them. And Jihun needed a lot of help with his homework lately.

“Moooommm! We’re back,” Jihun sounded desperate and distressed.

You handed Cheolmin to Jungkook and darted out, freezing and covering your mouth.

All of them were filthy. Muddy, covered in leaves, dirt smeared on their faces and they definitely didn’t catch a turkey.

Jihun looked like he’d been dropped in a lake before the mud and leaves, his hair dripping.

Yoongi winced. “We, uh, we fought a muddy hill?”

“And thought coming in the back door was a good idea? Go around to the front. I’ll get some towels, Jihun.” You ushered them back out, darting to the linen closet and grabbing the beach towels for them. Your baby was probably chilled to the bone, and you didn’t want to send him back out, but you really didn’t want to deal with mud on the carpet.

Jihun was shivering but you quickly wrapped him in a towel. “Cold.”

“We’ll get you in a bath, baby,” You said comfortingly, helping him out of his shoes.

He nodded.

You managed to scoop him up (getting objecting sounds from all six men) and carried him to the nearest bathroom, setting him down and running a bath. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes and a towel, okay? Hoseok will be here to help you wash behind your ears. And your tail.”

He made a strangled sound, but nodded.

You kissed a clean spot on his forehead, then tested the water. “Alright, test the water before you get in, but I think it’s okay right now.”

He nodded again, shivering out of his clothes as you got out a big fluffy towel and let Hoseok slip past you.

The other boys were carefully traipsing to the other bathrooms, but you quickly passed them to get to Jihun’s room and grab him clean clothes, opting for his favorite pajamas since it was toward the evening anyway.

Hoseok took the clothes, gesturing that Jihun was half-asleep.

You nodded and went to check on the rest of your babies, seeing they were still coloring contentedly and talking to the kittens like they would understand.

Then you hurried upstairs to check on your mate.

Taehyung was pouting at the bathroom door. “Oh, come on, Namjoonie!”

You snorted and headed further, guessing Yoongi went right to the bathroom the others didn’t use—the one in Jimin’s old room.

He was already out of the shower and in boxers when you slipped in, but winced as he saw your face. “Yeah, I know, that was dangerous. I didn’t mean for that to happen, and we got him back here in record time.”

“No more pretending you know how to hunt. Stick to fishing, you’re better at it. Anyway, we figured this would happen and bought a turkey. It’s already brining.” You shook your head at the pile of muddy clothes. “You guys are so doing the laundry.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll gather up the muddy clothes and take care of them. How were the other kids?”

“Angels,” You replied, hearing the relief in it and laughing a bit. “Heirannie is teaching Jowoon to color in between the lines, not very successfully, but he’s actually improved throughout the day. Misuk is using the magic markers so she can’t make a mess.”

“They’re growing up so fast,” He whispered.

“Soyoung looks so much like you,” You whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His skin was still warm from his shower, and it felt nice.

He purred a little, seeming embarrassed at how pleased he was by that. “Yerin looks more like you.”

“Has your hair, my mom’s eyes, and my fur,” You whispered. “But your adorable nose and mouth.”

He melted a little more under your touch, a mess of purring and fur. “I just want this time to last forever.”

You laughed softly. “I do too. We’ll keep them young forever, you and me.”

He laughed with you, hugging you more tightly. “You and me.”

——

You didn’t keep them young.

Jihun had been so excited to go to school. He’d woken up an hour before everyone else, he’d eaten breakfast and gotten ready for school, and then waited on teh couch for everyone else to get up, asking the first person—you, getting up to take care of the triplets who were two years old at the time—if it was time to leave yet.

You’d gotten him to help you with the triplets to distract him.

The only moment he seemed to be reluctant was when his siblings started crying at his leaving them. Heiran was especially inconsolable.

But Hoseok, Yoongi, and Yourself ushered Jihun out the door, and took him to school.

You and Hoseok cried on the way back to the house because Jihun was growing up so quickly and he was so independent.

Yoongi was quiet, but he spent an extra long time with all of the younger cubs that day.

Jihun had come home, quiet, eating his snack and cuddling up next to you without a word. Apparently not having said a word to Namjoon and Taehyung except to say hello and get into the car.

When he finally did say something, he murmured that he’d missed everyone here and that everyone else already had friends.

Seokjin had chuckled softly, then pulled Jihun into his arms. “Your father felt the same way. But he met Taehyung. And Taehyung introduced him to us. Just do your best, be nice to the other kids—”

“But if they bite you, bite back,” Yoongi muttered, earning glares and scoffs from Hoseok and Taehyung.

Seokjin just leveled him with an unamused look before turning back to Jihun. “And eventually you’ll meet some good friends. And if you don’t…well, we love you and we’ll find you sports or something you can play to make friends that way.” He stroked Jihun’s hair.

Jihun looked up at him, then shifted so he could hug the bunny-hybrid, face in the crook of his neck like he did as a cub. “If I don’t like it….”

“Then you can go back to homeschooling,” You agreed softly. “But I want you to give it a chance, Jihunnie.” You stroked his tail.

It flicked and he peeked at you to smile. “Okay, Mom. I’ll try. But…” His nose wrinkled. “Are we sure I’m in the right classes?”

“Oh?”

He slipped out of Jin’s arms, and grabbed his backpack, pulling out his school books and passing them to you.

You looked over it and sighed internally. The cubs ate up their lessons faster than you could come up with them, and Jihun was especially attentive in his schoolwork. Which meant he’d surpassed his classmates. But the schools insisted that he stay with his age group. “Well, we’ll figure something out, okay?”

He nodded, curling up into Hoseok’s lap with a soft chuff before falling asleep.

And he did make friends, quickly growing popular among his classmates, and yet he still spent most of his time at home with his siblings. He would go to their houses now and then, and he would have them for outdoor playdates, easily explaining that his siblings got sick really easily.

And he joined the soccer team, quickly becoming one of the star players.

Heiran was growing quickly too. She was active and playful and fast. So fast. She picked up languages like they were the triplets blocks, and while she still clung to you, and her family, she also was confident and strangely self-assured. She laughed easily and was excited for the day she could finally go to school—but didn’t do nearly as well there, reverting to her muteness and asking to be pulled out after the first three months. She blossomed again once she was home, though she still bounced back and forth between mute and loquacious.

Jowoon didn’t even want to try public school, but he joined an outdoor adventure club and quickly made his own friends. He was a bit of a home-body, having been cuddly all throughout his childhood and he definitely was still your baby. He was thoughtful, often sitting and asking Namjoon questions for hours after you would run out of answers, until Yoongi would step in and get him to help with some chore or other. Jowoon loved helping fix things, and there was a bet between Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok about what his future profession would be.

Misuk was probably the sassiest of all of the cubs, extremely independent as an elementary-aged cub, and oddly protective of the triplets. She had strong opinions, and was so expressive that sometimes you all had to stop yourselves from laughing when she needed to be scolded for talking back because she was so…confident in her decisions. She hated messes, and was picky about her clothes in the cutest way. She would only get messy if she was in her messy clothes. She was the hardest to keep away from her siblings friends, because she wanted to be with them but it was still dangerous given her immune system.

And then there were your triplets.

All of them were doted on by the cubs, and they didn’t mind staying away from outsiders for their siblings sake—not really even noticing because they were too busy listening to Jihun read a story to them. Or the girls would be playing with dolls while the boys were outside playing soccer.

Heiran bounced between both groups on those days (not that they were always separated, they especially all loved swimming together—though your kittens were definitely not fans at first and Soyoung definitely wouldn’t swim unless her oldest brother and Uncle Taehyung were also swimming), and she was usually on one team while the boys were on the other because she was fast and fierce. Everytime you saw her win with an astonishing amount of ferocity, you were reminded of your first Thanksgiving with the cubs, when she batted every kill-spot on Taehyung.

The scariest moment was when she found one of Jihun’s friends inside the house—with a cold. Granted, he’d only run in to use the bathroom, and with your permission.

But she’d literally dragged him out of the house with a growl (he was taller than her and weighed more and she wasn’t struggling), and the way she snarled at Jowoon had your fur rising and your kittens hiding in Yoongi’s arms while you had to calm her down.

She hadn’t even been thirteen.

Time flies too fast.

Jin and Jungkook lived in the carraige-house, never too far, but sometimes retreating to themselves. They were a mess, but a pretty happy mess that were actively involved in the cubs lives.

The other boys had their own lives, still coming around as often as they could—especially Hoseok, who eventually become some part of the strange relationship that Jungkook and Jin had.

You didn’t care to ask as long as your cubs and kits were okay.

Taehyung ended up mating with a sweet dog-hybrid, and they had pups some five years after your kits were born.

Namjoon ended up going overseas to open another division of his and Taehyung’s company, leaving for a few months at a time, before coming back for another few months to catch up with his favorite tigers, kittens, and pups. Eventually, he brought home a mate from his trip, who melded right into the family.

And Yoongi somehow started a revolution that established so much protection for humans that their numbers started rising again while still being the most active father/father-figure anyone could ask for. He was often exhausted, but you liked to think that you rewarded him well for his hard work.

———

“I can’t see,” Yerin whined, going up on her tiptoes again.

Namjoon scooped her up, putting her on his shoulders. “See him now?”

“Yes! Jihun!” She called.

Jihun turned and grinned, waving before signaling her to be quiet.

It wasn’t long before the Cheolmin and Soyoung were perched on Seokjin’s and Taehyung’s shoulders—respectively—to watch, though Soyoung did so with her hands over her ears from the noise of the crowd. She didn’t like noisy places, usually clinging and hiding with Yoongi or whoever was closest.

Jowoon and Misuk could see a little better, having both better positions, and standing on the chairs.

Heiran could see without standing on a chair, though she did have to go up on her tip-toes.

Both girls were carefully surrounded by yourself and the guys, having gotten more than their fair share of their mother’s looks, and getting quite a few lingering looks. They were already increasingly careful around their own brother’s friends and Misuk was only eleven.

Yoongi sighed. “This has to be a dream. He can’t be graduating high-school next week.”

You just smiled, looking at your family, then back at your oldest. “What are you going to do when it’s Heiran? Or Jowoon? Or Misuk—”

“Stop,” he grumbled. “You’re making me sad.”

You purred, taking his hand. “Just enjoy it, you softy. He’s valedictorian. And he wants to be a doctor.”

“He’s been taking college classes for the past two years, does it really count?” Heiran asked casually, but her gaze was proudly fixed on her brother as he stepped up to the podium to make a speech that had been a long time coming. It wasn’t his speech as valedictorian, but it was a speech his teachers had asked to give after he turned it in for a class.

You shushed her, grateful you didn’t have to worry about filming since Jungkook definitely had that covered.

Jihun—looking every bit like his father, with a certain something of his mother in his smile—gazed over the crowd after his initial greeting. “Next Friday marks the day that all of us have been waiting for. It’s a day of transition. It marks the end of one part of our lives, and the beginning of another as we leave the safety of this institution and enter the world of our parents and teachers. This can be terrifying, the unknown can be terrifying. My life…” He stopped, looking down and then quickly looking up, seeking you all out again and nodding. “My life has been filled with days of transition. Some that I don’t remember, such as the day I first became an older brother, and others that I do. I remember the day that I stopped thinking my life was normal, a day I know my family wishes I could forget, when myself and my mother were kidnapped and rescued by my father. I had never given thought to the fact that my mother was human, or what my species even meant for myself—and I didn’t understand until much later. I remember when I transitioned from having two parents that loved me and my siblings so completely, to being an orphan.”

Yoongi’s grip tightened on your hand, and you could see Heiran glance at you in the corner of your eye, but your gaze was fixed on Jihun.

“I remember my Uncles—friends of my parents, the only thing close to family that they had—desperately trying to fill the void my parents had left. The day my mom, my adoptive mom, came into our lives and made us into a family again. I remember wondering if my sister would ever talk again after losing our parents, and the pure joy that came when she did. I remember deciding that my mom could be just that, my mom. Finding out that those responsible for the death of my parents finally paid the price. Becoming an adopted brother. Watching my family change, and grow. Being able to finally go to school with other kids my age and make friends outside of my siblings. There have been so many days where my life has changed so completely, even if it was just from a change in my own perspective. In the way I viewed things. Our lives will always be filled with unknowns, but…because of my life before now, I’m not afraid of what the future holds. I know that my family will always catch me if I fall. I want to be a doctor, and I know that the road ahead of me will be hard. I know there will be times when I get scolded because I haven’t been taking care of myself—because I was raised by the most selfless people I will ever know. I know they’ll catch me when I do fall, because I watched them catch each other.”

He met your gaze across the crowd. “We are entering a world that has been changed by those that came before us. A world where humans are more than just…a means to an end. A world my parents died trying to make, and that my family continued to fight for—all while protecting us from those who opposed it. We are the next generation, and we have the ability to further that change, and make the world even better for those that come after. To learn from those that came before us. We will fall, and we will rise again. And we might fall a lot. But to change the world, and to help others…sometimes we’ll have to step back and take care of ourselves first.” He smiled a little to himself. “We help when we’re healthy, we rest if we’re sick, but if there’s a fire—we jump in and help as much as we can. And that doesn’t mean we get ourselves killed, Jeremy.”

His class started laughing and heckling Jeremy.

Not that your family wasn’t laughing, you all were familiar with Jeremy and the kid sometimes lacked common sense in a comical, life-threatening sort of way.

“I’ve had everything and nothing in my life,” Jihun continued after they calmed down. “I don’t know what’s next, but we’re going into this world with everything this school and our parents could provide us. Not everyone is that lucky. I want us all to leave here, and do at least one good thing. Just one. I know I can never surpass the things my adoptive family have done, I can never hope to be half as good as they are, but they make me want to try. To try and honor my deceased family. To set a good example for my younger siblings. To take care of myself and others. To gather up the shattered pieces and put them together again, just like my Mom did for me and my siblings, and my Uncles. That, which is far easier said than done, is my impossible dream that I hope to work toward everyday with my family to guide and support me. That is the one thing that I learned here, that I will never forget.”

You stood there, breathless as the audience clapped for him. Your little cub, all grown up.

Cheolmin was on the ground again, and he tugged on your sleeve. “Mommy, he’s adopted?”

Heiran started laughing, but she was crying as well. She tugged the 9-year-old into a hug. “We’ll explain later, Cheol.”

You ran a hand over her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Jihun slipped in, taller than you now, taller than Yoongi. A young man, only shadows of that seven-year-old cub you first met evident in the way he looked at you.

You squeezed his hand, knowing he was out of words. Knowing exactly what he was saying.

Yerin practically ran into his leg, hugging it with her ginger tail lashing playfully, looking up at him with a grin. “You talk pretty.”

Jihun started laughing, scooping her up easily since she was tiny (even smaller than Soyoung) and he definitely had the musculature befitting a white tiger. “Thanks, Yerin. You’re always pretty. So is Soyoung, and Misuk, and Heirannie,” He added quickly when her mouth opened, then he rubbed his nose against hers. “And Mom.”

She giggled and kept hugging his neck.

Soyoung was falling asleep on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Let’s get home,” Yoongi said.

Sitting at home later with your cubs and kittens, and the six men who had unknowingly changed the course of every life in that house, watching home videos that ranged from when Jihun was just a newborn cub, to a couple of years ago, you figured that even though it might not be the same as before, the shattered pieces of all of your lives had come together to create something new and even more beautiful.

And (unless you could bring their parents back, without losing your life with Yoongi, and your cubs and kits) you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

Jimin woke with a start, checking on his precious mate before rushing down the hall to check on all of his cubs, then Yoongi and Seokjin—who had just moved in that day. The other guys would be moving in later that week.

He shook himself and got a glass of water, taking it back upstairs.

She was awake, and she looked at him sleepily. “You okay?”

“Bad dream. Weird dream. We died.”

She hummed shifting and sitting up. “Just us? Or the cubs—”

“Cubs were fine, the guys took care of them. They had help, but…everything worked out.” He set the glass down and crawled back into the bed with her.

She was humming a song now, stroking his cheek. “Oh?”

He nodded. “That meeting. I think it’s a good thing we didn’t go to it.”

She smiled. “Who helped them?”

“She was a teacher. Cat hybrid. Her and Yoongi ended up becoming mates.”

She nodded. “Well, maybe we should finally do as we’ve been discussing and get Jihun a tutor?”

Jimin nodded. “I’m starting to struggle.”

“Then we’ll look into it in the morning, and increase security otherwise?” She asked, sounding only a little uncertain.

He chuffed lovingly at her. “You’re so perfect.”

She just grinned at him, perfectly irresistable.

“Eomma?” Jihun whispered softly from the doorway.

She sat up again. “Jihun? Everything okay?”

He ran in and climbed onto the bed, snuggling between Jimin and her. He sighed in relief. “I had nightmares again.”

Jimin pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re safe, kiddo. I’m not letting any of you go.”

–

Previous Part. Masterpost. Masterlist.

Tagging: @kimmie113080 , @jungshaking, @ephemeral-mindset, @young-yellkie, @alex–awesome–22, @pearylove, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld, @knjhe,

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sunnyborabora · 5 years ago

Text

Angel (Jaehyun x Reader)

It was a request and I am so sorry it took that long, I have no excuses...It was supposed to be published for christmas but lmao It’s very long and I hope I did well! The next one should be on Taehyung from BTS. It was also supposed to be published on december, with a bit of luck it will be there before spring!

Genre: Smut, awkward reader, voyeurism, fluff, christmas au

You were kinda a specialist of awkward situation. You were always finding a way to put yourself in embarrassing positions. Which can be finding yourself locked out of your apartment in pajamas because your door closed itself while you were out to take your uber eat order, from developing a sick ass crush on your brother’s best friend. But honestly no one would ever blame you. Jaehyun was, truly something else. He was so kind, since your childhood. He was the one who was taking you for a ride on his bike when your big brother Sicheng was being a dick with you which was almost all the time. You were two years younger than them but sometimes they made it seems like there was a decade between you. Jeahyun was always treating you well, taking care of you, patting your head like you were some puppy. Which as making your heart beat fast when you were 15, but which was annoying you more and more now that you were 20. You had left your house to go to university 3 years ago and you were so happy about it, studying something you truly liked. But it inevitably caused you to be away from your family. You were calling your parent regularly but being busy with work and classes had made you more distant. You haven’t spoken to Sicheng in a long time except from a few texts here and then, asking him how he was doing. You had not seen Jaehyun in years now, stupidly your feelings were still here. So when you were coming home for Christmas this year you were wondering if you’ll be finally able to see him. You had packed the presents you had bought for your family, a weird feeling in your chest. You had quite changed yourself since you left, you were three years older, you had live countless adventures mostly dumb one. « I can’t believe you are leaving me for Christmas, this is real betrayal » You turned around smiling at your best friend. « Girl, you know I have to go, I haven’t seen my family in an eternity. I don’t even know what my brother look like anymore. -Still hot obviously » You gagged at her answer. You obviously knew what your brother looked like, you were closer than what you made it seemed, but no way you were saying to Jisoo. She always had a thing for Sicheng that you could not comprehend. You thought he was repulsing in every aspect as the good sister you were. « Please, don’t say that ew -You can say whatever you want Sicheng is hot. I only you could take me with you… -So what ? You can jump on his dick as soon as you saw him ? -Yes » You threw her the first thing that you had in your hand. « Ouch ! » Even if her favorite pass time was to annoy you, she was still your best friend. And who will pay the other part of the rent if she wasn’t there ? And you remember not to annoy her too much because she was the one who was going to drive you to the train station, and she was totally able to drop you in the middle of the road. « Let’s go we are going to be late. » You caught your train just in time, hugging your roommate for the last time before leaving. « Think about me while you catch up with your hot best friend hoe love you ! -He is not my boyfriend ! -Don’t care ! » The three hours of traveling were long but you finally arrived in your home town. It was snowy and you admired the immaculate landscape as you were not used to it anymore. You heard a loud honking noise looking already annoyed. « Obviously it’s you ! I thought mom was going to come get me ! » Sicheng had stayed in the car, looking at you frowning. « Three years without seeing you and you are still that annoying. -We saw each other three months ago when you came crashed at my apartment » He laughed at you, coming closer as you sat inside the car, hugging you. You hugged him back, happy to see him. Even if he still was your idiot big brother. « So how are things going ? -Mom is ecstatic, she missed you a lot I think. » You knew your mom missed you a lot. Since your dad left when you were in high school, she had taken over herself to make you the happiest kid ever. You felt bad about it, maybe you were just an ungrateful child, and you didn’t deserve such a loving mother. « Anyway, she prepared enough food to feed the entire town, be ready. Even if it never had been a problem, you fat ass. » You hit his arm but stopped remembering he was driving. « Who will be there ? -You, me, mom, Jaehyun and his parents » You almost stopped breathing. « Oh Jaehyun and his parents. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them, damn. -Three years or something, yeah. » You did not ask anything else, Sicheng wasn’t stupid, if you started becoming too curious he would flip you off. « He’ll come in the afternoon anyway, we have to put that stupid Santa Claus and his reindeer because mom insisted. -Good luck » You had missed your mom terribly so when Sicheng parked in front of your old house, you almost jumped out immediately. Your mom was already opening the door, her arm wide open and a smile plastered on her face. You hugged her as strong as you could : « Mom I missed you so much. » You heard her laughed, hugging you back. « Oh my god you changed so much Y/n, what, it has been a year and you had become so gorgeous. » You could see tears starting to form at the corner of her eyes. « Was the journey good ? Not too long ? » She told you to come inside, pointing out that it was starting to snow again. Sicheng was just behind you, your bags in his hands. « Wow, you are carrying my bags, is that a joke or are you really starting to be nicer to me ? -Don’t get used to it. » The house had changed since you last came, but it still gave that cozy and gentle vibe. You felt like home. A big tree was standing at the very far corner of the dining room, still naked from any decoration. « Come on, take of your coat and shoes and come in the kitchen I’ve prepared hot chocolate. » And she did. You found yourself sat in the kitchen, your feet plunged into fluffy slippers. You had the impression to be a child all over again. It made you smile. « You had changed a lot since the last time I saw you ! Did you cut your hair ? -Ah, yes a bit. Does it suit me ? -A lot » It was easy to talk to your mother. She always had something to say, about what she had done, what she had seen, or about something someone told her. « We are going to decorate the tree ! I’ve been waiting for you to do it » She seemed very excited about it and it made your heart swell. You wanted to take her in your arms but something stopped you. You helped your mother decorating the tree, following her direction, putting the little wooden snowflakes where she was telling you and installing the lights where she wanted. « Oh Y/n ! It looks very pretty ! Wait I am going to turn the lights on » And indeed it was pretty. You smiled at your work, admiring the tree. It was way different from what you have done last year, both you and Jisoo being broke, you had found your Christmas tree a trash cane beside your building. You had to tape the poor thing all back together. You were really proud of it at the time. But you had to be honest it looked miserable next to this one. You had to send a pic of it to Jisoo. At the moment you were going to press send your mom called you. « Y/n come here a minute ! » You did, walking toward the entrance door. Sicheng, your mom and another man were standing there. « Here she is ! Look darling, it’s Jaehyun ! » Indeed, it was Jaehyun. The moment he turned around you swear you could fall down, trip over the air and just smash your face against the floor. But you didn’t, you smiled big, trying to look confident walking toward them. He seemed surprise seeing you but it passed fast as he was returning your smile. The more you were approaching the more you wanted to scream. And you were screaming, internally. Because you didn’t know what had happened, you only left three years. Jaehyun was fucking hot, already at the time, during high school he was hot, but it had nothing to do with now. He was the embodiment of that reddit post of a woman asking if it was okay to cry because people were too hot. Right now you felt like you could cry. « Hi Y/n ! Long time no see ! -Hi ! Yeah, time has passed fast » You stand behind your mom like a child, trying not to stare too much. Because if you could right now you would be snapping pictures of his perfect face to look at them all day. Who could blame you. He was so cute, his scarf tight around his neck and his little beanie secured around his head. « Come on Sicheng, let’s do this before it snows to hard » And like this they started getting that horrible Santa Claus and its hideous slide up on the roof. You were sure it was dangerous as hell, that it must slide like a skating rink up there but nothing could make them change their mind. « I am pretty sure Sicheng is going to bust his ass. -Y/n !? Be polite please ! » You shrugged still sure about the accuracy of your words. You were on the living room, wrapping up presents for the family when Sicheng and Jaehyun came back. Sicheng was covered in snow. « You fell down didn’t you ? -Shut up » For the first time in forever you wish your brother had stay with you because now you were left alone with Jaehyun. He took off his coat, and sat at the table, he wasn’t really looking at you and you could understand it. After all you didn’t speak to each other or even saw each other in three years. You were just his best friend little sister in the end. « Do you want some hot chocolate ? You must be cold », you asked trying to break the awkward silence that had settled itself between you. « Oh yeah ! Thank you ! » He smiled at you his little dimples showing. He was soft. You turned around to pour him a cup when you turned back he was looking at you. He turned around as fast as he could but you had seen him. You smiled giving him a cup and as you saw he was just looking at his cup you decided to start a conversation : « It’s been so long, what have you been doing ? » He almost seemed chocked when he heard your voice. « Well nothing much really, I just work in town and everything. I graduated uni last year but you know what they say about having a degree but never using it » You laughed. « Hell yeah I know. -And you would have you been doing ? -Well studying for the most part. I am living with my roommate, and I am working on the side you know, the usual student life. -That’s great, I am happy that you are leaving your dream. You were always the independent type anyway. -Really ? I remember being glued to you and Sicheng my entire childhood tho -True, but it never bothered me to be honest. You were like my little sister », he said smiling. But you wanted to cry. His little sister of course. Sicheng arrived at this precise moment and you took this as your cue to leave. When you came back Jaehyun had left and dinner was ready. The day had passed fast but it also seemed like it was an eternity. « Do you fucking realize ! The audacity ! -I can’t believe he called you his little sister bitch I am crying » You suddenly wanted to hang up on her. « What am I supposed to do ? -You still have a crush on him ? After all this time… -Yeah, why ? You're judging me ? -A little to be honest » You rolled over your bed, stomping your feet like a child. « He literally see me as a child. I am not 17 anymore. -Maybe that’s the problem. -What do you mean ? -He sees you as a child. If you change the way he is seeing you… -How am I supposed to do that ? -Flirt with him, make him see you like you truly are. -How am I going to make this not awkward ? -Just do it, if he is awkward he’ll tell you. And you’ll be able to leave and never see him again » You thought about it for a second, still doubtful. « I don’t know… -Just do it ! You’re such a flirt usually, this wouldn’t be difficult ! -It is ! » It really was but the next day, when you dressed up you find yourself putting on that cropped sweater and your favorite pants that made your ass look good. You had the intention to spend your holidays in pajamas but it wasn’t going along with your plan. « I am going to town, I have some things to buy. -You want me to come with you ? -No stay here ! Your brother is at work but Madam Jung is going to come to deliver us something for tomorrow. » You said as your mother had told you and stayed at home. It didn’t take long for the bell to rung and for you to go open. But it wasn’t Madam Jung who opened the door. Jaehyun seemed surprise to see you, and it took you a second to get your self together and flash him the brightest smile.

« Hey Jae ! What’s up ? » He gasped at your friendly tone, probably chocked by the contrast between the awkward exchange you had the day before and now. « I-I- my mother told me to give this to your mom… I don’t know what it is, is she here ? -No she is gone, but she told me someone would come. Come on in ! » You stepped aside, letting him in. You lead the way to the kitchen, and maybe you were swinging your hips a bit more than you originally would and you heard him choke. « Apparently it’s something for tomorrow. You’ll be there ? -Hmm, yeah ! -Oh that’s the plate for the turkey ! My mom told me hers wasn’t big enough » He was standing there, his hand in his pocket, looking anywhere but at you. « Do you want something to drink ? Eat ? My mom bought stuff to bake Christmas cookies -Oh, I don’t know… I think I should go. » You turned around clutching the plate against your chest, pouting. « Oh, okay no problem… -It’s not because I don’t want to ! I swear ! I have to go back to work, but if you want, this evening, I- I would be happy to eat your cookies, if you had decided to bake some… » You smiled at him. « I can do that ! I can even bring them to your house if you want to ! » He nodded smiling at you, leaving you alone in your kitchen. You didn’t know how to take what just happened. Maybe you were just doing too much. Did you make the situation awkward ? You didn’t think so… But now you had to cook the best cookies you could and that was the problem. You were the worst cook ever, like really. Once you set your kitchen on fire and now with Jisoo being as dumb as you when it concerned cooking. You should probably wait for your mom to come back, after all she was the best cook you knew. You looked for a thousand of recipes on internet but it was a literal mess. You gave up, finally accepting that you were a dumb bitch. « I’m home ! Did Madam Jeong came ? -Yes ! Mom I need your help ! » She seemed the more and more confused as you were telling her the story. « Cookies are easy to make Y/n ! -They are not ! » But it seemed as when it was your mom, everything was easier. « Just put the melted chocolate in the dough, not too much at the same time » It seemed like a thousand years later that you put the cookies in the oven. The one your mom did were round and beautiful. Yours were a bit awkward, one was even looking like a square. « Why are mine ugly ? -They are not ! They are perfect » She pinched your cheeks smiling at you. She was just too nice. When you packed them to go out, you let yours in the plate, still tacking a bite of the square one. At least, they were good. « Did you put on the frosting ? -Yeah, it’s really good ! -Of course it is ! Have you seen all the sugar you put in this, it can only be good ! » You walked in the street, thankfully it was not snowing. The Jeong family was leaving just next to your house so it just took you a five-minute walk to arrive. « Y/n ! Oh my god ! Child you grew up so much since you came last time ! » You smiled at the little lady. Madam Jeong always had been nice to you. She was giving you extra dessert when you were dining at their house, she had drive you back from school when your mom couldn’t. « Hello madam Jeong ! It’s been so long! » You were soon sitting around the table, the cookies in full display, a cup of coffee in front of you. « So what have you been doing ? -I am still studying and working on the side ! -This is great ! Jaehyun told me you were living with someone ? -Oh yeah ! We’ve met in first year, and we connected well. It’s easier to have a roommate », you laughed. « Oh so it’s just a roommate ? -Oh, well, Jisoo is also my bestfriend but yeah » She laughed suddenly. « Oh my, you should tell that to Jae, the poor boy was convinced you were already married or something » You were shocked. When did you even implied that you were in a relationship ? You laughed in disbelieve. « I am not, Jisoo is my best friend really. -Ohh so you really don’t have a boyfriend ? » You had the exact same conversation with your mom over the phone a thousand time and thinking about it you were surprised she hadn’t brought the subject yet. « No, I don’t. -Hey mom, I’m back ! -Jaehyun we are here ! » You didn’t look up right away but you still saw his face when he entered. His jaws clutched as his eyes fell on you. You smiled, winking at him. He almost tripped. « Hey Y/n… -Hey Jae » He smiled blushing. « So what have you been talking about ? -Nothing special, Y/n was telling me about her life, university, work, boyfriends » Did you already mentioned you loved this woman. It was like she wanted to help you, without even realizing it. « Yeah, I was telling your mother that I was all alone -A beautiful girl like you, everyone would be lucky to have you » You laughed shyly. Yeah, it was not what your exes were saying about you. Madam Jeong suddenly left to go to the kitchen leaving you and Jaehyun alone. « Sorry if she was asking you personal stuff… -It doesn’t bother me. I didn’t see her in a long time, I missed it. » He nodded avoiding your eyes. « So you don’t have a boyfriend ? -Nope. -That’s good » You rose our brow and he started to stutter. « No. That’s not what I meant. It’s not good that you are single. There is nothing wrong with that ! Even if you deserve someone great you know, but you don’t need one ! » You laughed, not holding back anymore. « Don’t worry Jaehyun, I understand », you said as you keep giggling like a child. He seemed mortified but you couldn’t help it, it was too cute. « I mean, I am not dating either so... » You turned your head in his direction. Was he giving you hints ? Or was it just an innocent answer ? « Really ? You and Soohyon are not together anymore ? » Your brother had told you they had broke a year ago but you still asked. « Oh, no, we broke up last year. -Wow, I mean you literally stayed together all high school, we all thought you were like, going to marry each other or something. -We just weren’t meant to be, I guess» Thankfully for you. « I hated her anyway », you said not controling your mouth. Jaehyun laughed hard, and you felt embarrassed. You really needed to shut up. « This was why you were always avoiding me when she was around ? -Yeah, that and other things. -Other things ? » You were really not going to say it. His mother called you from the other room anyway, saving you from embarrassment. « That’s a story for another time », you played off, hitting his shoulder with your fist playfully. He grabbed your wrist not letting you go. « Y/n, just, I wanted to tell you, it ‘s good to have you back » You smiled, your heart swelling. « I am happy to be back too » You walked back home with your head full of question. This seduction mission was more difficult than you thought. What was even more weird, was that feeling in your heart, a strange swell that occurred every time you saw him. It wasn’t about Jaehyun being handsome anymore. It was about you loving him. Maybe you were just hurting yourself. « You’re already back ? Was the cookies good ? -Yeah they were, thank you mom. » You didn’t say anything else, still wondering what you were going to do. « Just tell him. If you are correct, he is pretty much reacting to you in like a good way ? -I don’t know ? What if he rejects me ? I’ll die -No you won’t, you drama queen. » You weren’t that sure. You pretty much loved this man. « Jisoo, I gotta go, someone is calling me » Actually nobody was calling you but you just wanted to stop this conversation. You ate and went to your room without more words. It was actually pretty late already but you were unable to sleep. It was those type of moments where no position was the right one. You knew something that could help you sleep but just thinking about it made you blush. Maybe it was the fact that you were in your childhood bedroom, the fact that you were suddenly very aware of the fact that your family was sleeping not that far away. But you still did it because fuck, you wanted it. You kicked off your pajama pants, dragging your hands over your thighs. You lied back on your bed as you started by just teasing yourself with your hand, not pressing to hard yet, just tracing the outline of your labia. Maybe it was her brain, that was playing her tricks, because she could almost feel the heat of someone mouth at the secret sensitive place beneath the corner of your jaw, just below your ear, hands firm around your waist... You thought of Jaehyun. How his lips would taste, how his hands would feel. You took in a quick gasp as your fingertips grazed your clit. You pressed your fingers harder, circling the bundle of nerves, suddenly feeling as electricity was running down your body. You wish they were his fingers, they would be so much bigger and longer than yours. They would stretch your walls so good. You put two fingers inside, and even if you were stretched you weren’t full. You were so desperate, your fingers bumping inside you fast but you were still not there. It was so frustrating. The image of Jaehyun between your legs was making you whimper harder. His dark eyes were watching yours as he was smirking, his tongue flickering on your clit precise motion, his upper lip just brushing against your clit as he teased you more… You came with the image of Jaehyun above you, as you were moaning his name. You slept like the dead and thank you, for the first time since you came back you didn’t dream about Jaehyun. You woke up early in the morning. It was Christmas and your mom had told you a long day was awaiting you. And indeed you had no time to think about anything else than mashed potatoes and how to stuff a turkey, which was terrifying. Sicheng had been helping all day too, which wasn't taht surprising, he had always been a sweetheart for your mom. He had been pouting all day but at least he had been carrying stuff around the house, occasionally helping you in the kitchen. « How many more potatoes do we need to peel ? I already cut myself twice ! -Ohhh poor baby look at this little cut on his pinky boohoo. -Shut up. Mom ! Y/n is being mean again ! » You threw an apple peel at him. « Why are you such a kid ! -I am not ! -You are both children ! » You almost jumped out of your chair. Jaehyun was standing behind you laughing at Sicheng that was still scolding you. Maybe it as the fact that he looked particularly good or that you looked like trash in this very moment but you were strangely shy around him suddenly. « Hey Jae , what are you doing here ? -My mom is stressing me out at home, I thought it would be calmer here. -It’s not, my mom is literally treating us like slaves since this morning. -She just asked you to peel potatoes what are you talking about. » He was going to say something, but he didn’t have the time before your mom entered the kitchen. « Oh Jaehyun, sweety, what are you doing here ? -I was just passing by ! Do you need help ? -Actually, I need someone to drive to the nearest mall and do some purchase. -I’ll go with Jaehyun, said Sicheng as fast as he could. -No I need you here ! Y/n is going with Jaehyun ! -Why her !? Am I an assistant ? -Yeah why me ?! » You really didn’t want to go with Jaehyun. In your mind he would have come just before dinner and you would already wear your cute dress. He would be his usual soft and shy self while you’ll be kissing him under the mistletoe. Now you were peeling apples in the middle of your living room, not washed, still in pajamas, your hair like a bird nest. Jaehyun looked at you and smirked and you felt your face hit up. « I need Sicheng here, so come on Y/n go ! » You stood up like a zombie and walked to your room. You jumped in the first clothes you find which was not better than your pajamas, before putting on your hood’s sweater and joining them in the living room. « You’re ready ? » Asked Jaehyun with a smirk. You simply nodded, not looking at him in the eyes. It was cold outside, and as you were walking toward the car you stopped in your track. « Oh wait, we- ouff » You bumped into something, rather someone, almost falling back, if the certain someone didn’t catch you. « Be careful, the road is slippery » You were pressed against his torso, his arms not letting you ho anywhere. « It’s just, that, I don’t know what my mom wants… -She gave me a list don’t worry, let’s go » He grabbed your shoulders and you both walked toward the car again. You sat next to him, finally in feeling warm as he started the car. You didn’t say a thing during the entire trip, just looking around shyly. « Y/n ? Is everything okay ? -Huh yeah, why ? -You seem less talkative than before. » You laughed awkwardly trying to play it off. He reached for something next to you brushing your thigh making you gasp. He smirked at you completely aware of what he just did and you screamed internally. You wished Jaehyun would have stopped playing with you but he really didn’t. You were being kinda petty because all you did those past few days was to provoked him. Considered it Karma. You came back home to your mom two hours later. You took longer than you intended to inside the store because it was packed with people, obviously it was Christmas day. « Stay near me, so we don’t get separated » he said looking at you waiting for your response. You nodded looking around you as you started to panic. You weren’t the most comfortable with crowded places and you were usually avoiding going shopping when you knew there was going to be a lot of people. You really didn’t want to lose Jaehyun. You followed him around the store feeling useless, because he seemed to know the place perfectly and you were as lost as ever. You insisted into pushing around the shopping cart trying not to roll over people. « Jaehyun, I think- Jaehyun ? » You turned around not seeing anywhere. You grabbed the cart hard and tried to walk away but you stopped maybe you should just stay here to not get lost even more. But you suddenly realized that staying in the middle of an aisle with this many people, actually the lady behind you seemed to start being annoyed with you. So you simply walked away, looking for Jaehyun but not seeing him anywhere. Someone pushed you rather strongly and you almost started crying. You looked around like a lost child looking for their mom but nothing. It was all rushing people and noise.

« Y/n » Jaehyun placed his hand on your shoulder and you almost jump out of your skin. « Hey it’s just me, everything is fine » You wanted to kiss him, even more than before. « I-I couldn’t see you… » He smiled gently. « Don’t worry I’m here now. It’s over we can go check out » He took your arm and hooked it with his while he drove the cart toward the entrance. The drive home was silent but more relaxed. You were stuck in a bit of traffic but listening to some Christmas music. « You still hate crowds ? » You looked at him, his eyes still glued to the road. « Yeah… Still not the most comfortable. I should just work on that but sometimes it’s just -Too much ? -Yeah. -I remember when we were younger, and we used to carry you everywhere with us. Your mom would insist that Sicheng would bring you along. He never wanted but I actually liked when you were there. -Yeah I remember. I would climb on one of your bike behind you and you would carry me around like I was a lost puppy" Remembering had made you calmer and as you looked at him you understood. You smiled at him gently. Jaehyun helped you carry the bags inside, your mother inside seemed eve more panicked than before. Jaehyun left saying he’ll see you in a couple of hours. You helped your mom settling everything she had in mind and you were ready faster than you thought. Your mom was finally able to go take a shower and relax and you intended to do the same. Before that you texted Jisoo, telling her that you missed her and wishing her a merry Christmas. You took a long shower and you decided to play along. After all if Jaehyun had been flirting with you, maybe you should just continue. But being in the shower you had time to think about your day and how, even if you were close to a panic attack, domestic it felt to do things with Jaehyun. You got out of the shower and settled into wearing a little tied black dress That would maybe a bit too much for your mom to take in so you put on a pair of black thighs and a magnificent Christmas jumper that would make you look modest. You did your makeup and added red lipstick. You loved it as it was making your lips look like cherry candy. It was already dark outside and you should probably go see if your mom needed anything before anyone arrived. As you were going downstairs you heard the door bell but no sign of your mother or brother. You opened the door, greeted by a huge rose bouquet. You looked up to see Jaehyun smiling at you. « Hi again -Hi » You let him enter quick followed by his mom and dad. You hugged them both, always happy to see them. Your mom arrived, and they all started talking, visibly enthusiast of seeing each other even if they literally live next to each other. Suddenly feeling out of place you thought you would go look for a vase for the flowers you were now holding. You disappeared into the kitchen but to be honest you had no idea where you could find a vase. Maybe if you putted them into a big bowl or something… « The vase are in the last cabinet I think… » Jaehyun smiled at you, you nodded trying not to stare too much. You might have dress up a little tonight, but he really was looking like an all movie star. His satin black dress up shirt was hugging his torso perfectly and maybe his black jeans were making his thighs look fucking perfect. You wanted to ride them. You shook your head thanking opening the cabinet. Suddenly you thought about something. « Could you hold the chair while I climb on it, I don’t know why it’s that high, no one is that tall in this house. » He nodded as you bring the chair close to the wall. Jaehyun walked toward you and you tried once again not to overthink his presence but it was hard. You put the bouquet in his arms as you climb the chair, maybe arching your back little more than you needed as you were getting in your tip toes to finally grab the vase. That dress was anyway doing god’s work as it ridden up your thighs. « Got it ! » He didn’t answer, his grip on the chair still solid. You smirked getting of the chair. « Thanks for the flowers again, my mom love those. » He didn’t watch you in the eyes right away, but he seemed to regain his composure pretty fast as you were fill up the vase with water. « Do you need help ? -No it’s fine, you can join the others if you want. Sicheng must be there now. » And he left. You joined them some minutes later, after taking a pause in the corridor just to take a deep breath. « Here she is ! -You look great sweetheart ! Come here ! » And you sat down. It was actually enjoyable, your mom cooking was excellent and you were actually impressed by your own work. « The meat is so good ! How did you do ? » Your mom was more than happy to tell how she did and you laughed at her enthusiasm. Sicheng and Jaehyun were talking and laughing while you were not really paying attention. You were trying to ignore the fact that you were sitting right next to Jaehyun, as Sicheng was sitting in front of you, on the other side of the table. You were so concentrated on what your mother was saying that you didn’t realise right away someone had put their hand on your thigh. It’s when the hand started to ride up along your thigh. You looked down seeing Jaehyun hand under the table, grabbing your thigh. You looked at him baffled. Maybe he didn’t realise… But he turned his head toward you raising one of his eyebrow smirking slightly and you understood. He totally knew what he was doing. You tried and move, but he squeezed your thigh making you gulped. It was so inappropriate, but why your heart was beating that fast, and it was not only from embarrassment. « So Y/n ? When are you going back to the city ? » You cleared your throat, trying to regain your componance. « I am leaving tomorrow actually » You felt his hand coming closer to hip. « Really ? Already ? Why won’t you stay longer ? » Jaehyun grazed his finger along your underwear and you froze. « Y/n ? -Hmmm my boss didn’t give me more days off actually. I have to work as soon as I come back. -Oh what a shame ! -Yeah I wish I could have stayed for the new Lunar Year but it’s a very busy time in the city, and they need the team to be complete .

-You’ve always been such an obliging person Y/n, such an angel.» You heard Jaehyun huffed at the nickname. He squeezed your inner thigh harder as you started to shake a little bit. You put your hand on his, squeezing his finger. Everyone was suddenly looking somewhere else and you whispered to him : « What are you doing ? -Nice dress » He smirked cockily and you stayed speechless. The rest of the dinner went well, Jaehyun needing both of his hands to eat, he left you alone. Soon Jaehyun’s parents invited your mom at their place to drink more and your mom accepted. Sicheng came with her and you were ready to put your coat on, joking around with your brother when someone attracted your attention. Jaehyun was leaning on the opposite wall, watching you like a hawk. You walked toward him, confused. « You are not coming ? -I thought we could stay behind just a few minutes. I have something to tell you. -Oh okay... » You told your mom you would come in a few minutes, and she simply nodded, already leaving the house following her friends happily. Sicheng was following cheering with mister Jeong about something. « What did you wanted to talk about ? -Let’s go upstairs. -Yeah… okay... » You went to your room, and as you were entering you heard the door closing behind you. You sat on your bed looking at him. « Honestly, it’s more me who should ask question. What you did during dinner- -Was just teasing you back for everything you did. The short clothes, the flirting, everything… You thought I was going to stay impassive ? » You stayed quiet, not knowing what to answer. « Since you’ve come back, I don’t know it’s like you’re torturing me, hm… You’re having fun angel ? » You tensed at the sudden nickname. « Maybe. Maybe I was just having fun. -Oh so that was it. Having fun ? I don’t think so. -Hm, and why ? » He came closer to you. « I think that someone, might have a little crush on me, don’t we baby ? » Yeah you wanted to die. « What ? Don’t flatter yourself… -Are you saying I am a liar ? » He wasn’t, and you were totally unable to hide your feelings. He reached your burning face with his hands as you closed your eyes from the embarrassment. « Look at me in the eyes » But you really couldn’t right now. « Y/n open your eyes » His hands slided along your neck, but you yelped in surprised when he grabbed your scalp hard yanking your hair. You opened your eyes looking at him directly. « Tell me now Y/n, what went through your little perverted mind ? - I- I don’t… -That’s funny, because those last days had been a nightmare for me. » He let go of your hair, his hand running down your back, the other still on your hips. « First you come back after years, looking like a woman and not that kid that I knew. And I know that you are my best friend little sister but hey you keep flirting with me, and you are fucking amazing. » You were speechless, all you could do was look into his eyes, mouth agape. « I know I shouldn’t feel like this. Toward you. But- I can’t help it. The more I speak to you, the more I see you… » Tears were prickling at the corner of your eyes, and you did what you had been dreaming of. You kissed Jaehyun like your life depended on it. He kissed you right back, his arms circling you as you wrap yours around him. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was needy and passionate. You couldn’t help it but moan in his mouth. He started to lead you to the bed, you taking steps back until you hit the end of your bed. He pushed you lightly as you fell into the mattress. « You know what really made me see you differently. Fuck… That night where your brother ask me to go see you and tell you that you could come with us to that party a friend of us organized. But when I arrived to your room » He has joined you on the bed, (staying) over your body, caging you between his arms. « I fucking saw you, touching your needy cunt, moaning my name. » You wanted to die, you wanted the earth to split open and swallow you up. But no, you were still there trapped. « Close your door better next time baby » And he kissed you again. With the same passion, but he seemed to be more and more needy. « So tell me Y/n, why would you do this ? » He got on his knees, looming over your body, a smirk on his lips. His hands trailed on your waist, your hips and finally on your thighs. Even through the thin fabric off your clothes you could feel the heat of his skin. You shuddered. « I-I didn’t do it on purpose… -Oh really ?! Because fuck it really seemed like it. -No I didn’t ! I never anted you to know… -Well I know now » His hands gripped your black thighs and took it off in a fast motion. Apparently clothes had to get off. « I always thought you were a good girl, pure and innocent, was I wrong baby ? » Fuck, his words, you were getting so wet by the seconds. « I didn’t… -You didn’t what ? Was that the first time you were touching yourself while thinking of me ? » Your breath hitch as his hands finally made contact with your bare skin, so cold against your hot thighs. You moaned , wanting more of his touch. « Answer me or you won’t get anything. - Maybe... » He nipped at your thigh, his mouth so warm. You were feeling his hot breath against your skin still so far away from where you really needed him. « Maybe ? Common tell me - When we were in high school, you’re the first person I touch myself to… » He stopped his motion, suddenly freezing. « I-I always wanted to be with you, but I was young and you were interested in other girls, more mature, so I stayed on my side » He gripped your thighs harder, making you moan a bit. Jaehyun smiled against your skin, nose trailed along your skin as he inhaled deeply. « Fuck, no one could compare to you… I fantasized about you- taking my virginity a lot... » He groaned letting go of your thighs. « Fuck, baby you are so fucking nasty. I can’t believe this, such a pervert » Your dress was now rolled up all the way to your hips, and he took it as an opportunity to finally touch you. His hand cupped your mount, his thumb pressing over your clit. You whined, struggling to breath as you were squirming to get closer. His fingers were brushing harder, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your soaked folds. « Your soaking wet… » He mumbled something you can't understand before taking of your underwear and tossing them. « So pretty. Fucking » he helped you taking off your dress, you were now completely exposed, « Perfect » You thought you couldn’t get more embarrassed, you were wrong. « Baby I want to eat you out -Yes, please Jae » you needed him to do anything. Really you would beg. He buried his face between your thighs, his hands keeping them as open as you could. You never felt that exposed but at the same time fuck it felt so good. « Jae, fuck please more -Then tell me baby, what were you imagining in that dirty mind of yours ? -No please… -Y/n, baby you know the deal... » You cried out in frustration. « I thought… I thought about your hands a lot… You would feel larger than my own, I would feel better when it’s you who touches me...Fuck please don’t stop… -Your little fingers can’t do anything for you baby, right ? -No ! They can’t ! » He inserted one finger in and your eyes almost rolled in the back of your head. « Jaehyun oh my god- » You moaned hard, completely possessed by the feeling of him stretching you like this. « Yes baby? » He held your gaze and slowly licked his lips. « Please, I want you, more… -Don’t worry baby, I am not going anywhere » You grabbed his sleeve and tugged at it the best you could, trying to make him understand. « You want me to take it off baby ? -Yes please... - Okay, » Jaehyun’s dimples appeared when he smiled and your heart skipped a beat. He took off his dress shirt as fast as he could and you couldn’t help it. He was beautiful. You wanted to touch him so bad. « Can I touch you ? Please… -Yes of course » He kissed you again, and allowed your hands to roam over his body, « Jaehyun... » and it was a whimper at best. « Yes Y/n. » Nothing came out of your mouth as he smirked. You started fumbling with his belt as you were kissing his collarbone, and he let you do it, enjoying your touch, your breast against his chest. He grabbed your legs lifting you in his arms. « I need you, fuck, I need you so bad. » You were in his arms pressed against his body. You were whimpering, trembling from anticipation. Your heart would explode soon. « I need you too Jae, please » He lowered you onto your bed, his arms tight around your body. He bent down licking his lips biting at the skin of your thighs. « Ouch, Jae » Your words sounded more like a plea than an actual cry of pain. « Want you to remember me, remember this.. » He said. « When you’ll go back to the city » He kept sucking at your skin, and you feel yourself drift off more and more. You whispered his name again and again your eyes screwed shut as you struggled to breathe. « Please, Jae ! More ! -You are very demanding » You whined,grabbing at the sheets beneath you. « But don’t worry, I am not going anywhere » He caressed your thighs, appreciating the feeling of your skin. « Since you’ve been good I am going to tell you what I want to do hm ? » You gasped loudly. « First baby, I’m gonna eat you out, hm, because you must be tired of just cumming on your fingers. Do you want me to ? -Yes ! Please ! -Ok, baby, and after » He kissed your core « I’m gonna make love to you, okay ? Because fuck baby, no one is able to make me soft and hard at the same time like you do » You moaned at that, your heart swelling from all the love you felt at this moment. « Jaehyun, please- » He flattened his tongue, parting your cunt, as you couldn’t do anything but moan. A few languid licks later and you were already coming. You thought he was going to stop he didn’t. You fisted your hand in his black locks, admiring his beautiful face. But it was so sinful you couldn’t look for very long. You cried and you heard him chuckle as the devil he was. It didn’t take long before you were greeted by your second orgasm that left you breathless. You started to become so sensitive. « Please, Jae- Fuck, stop… Too much- -It’s too much ? Hm, I don’t know Y/n, how you're going to do for what I planned after. Maybe you want me to stop ? -No ! No… Please... » He smirked , his dimple showing. His black hair were a mess, completely your fault as you had tangled your fingers in them. « You tortured me since you arrived and I can’t even take my revenge a little bit… -I didn’t do anything… -Of course, you’re an angel aren’t you ? -Exactly » You were blatantly lying, obviously. « You are lying angel… You’ve become so naughty. Who Would have thought. Everyone thinks you are such a cute, shy girl. Do they know you’ve been having naughty thoughts about me all this time. » You were speechless, your mouth gaping, not finding anything to answer. He licked his lips, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. « You taste so good, angel, fuck » You opened your arms, inviting him. He hugged you, tightly, kissing your lips as if it might be the last time. His tongue caressed yours as your legs parted wide, allowing him to rest between them. He finally kicked his pants away and his underwear. You were feeling him, heavy and hard against your thigh. It was maybe the last time you were seeing him like this, so you made sure to look at him with attention. He was beautiful. Something you'll never forget. He positioned himself between your legs, and you felt his hard dick between your bodies, leaking precum on your stomach. You eased your hand between the two of you, finding his cock. You let your fingers toy with his sensitive tip. « I want to make you feel good too… » He moaned as he buried his face in your neck. You nibble his bottom lip between each one of your pecks. You collected the wetness from his dick and you used it to move along his shaft. «You are going to make me feel good angel don’t worry... » He whispered, grabbing your legs. « I need you, Y/n, now » He brought your thighs almost flat against your chest and you felt yourself spread out for him. « I want you so much... » Just before entering you he looked into your eyes and you saw something you didn’t think you would see. Maybe it wasn’t only sex, maybe it was more. With a guttural groan, he entered you slowly, your breath hitching at the sensation. Sinking down inch by inch, his dark eyes carefully watched yours until he was fully seated. You felt him deep inside you, so deep you were already shaking around him. « Angel you feel so good... »

He was going slowly at first, deliberate strokes, in and out, as a regular pace.But you felt him grew more impatient, more needy. His trust were becoming harder and harder, his skin slapping yours, the noises of your wetness almost deafening. His forehead was pressed against yours, his eyes closed as he was feeling so much pleasure. His hips began to piston erratically while his stiff cock repeatedly dragged across your g-spot. You closed your eyes as your vision started to blur. « Do you feel good angel ? Fuck- -Jae- You feel so good » You wanted to scream his name, but you remembered where you were and you simply whispered his name again and again as you were feeling it coming. « Yeah angel, please, let it go » He kept moving, looking you as you were loosing yourself. He felt your pussy tightening around him. He looked at you, promising himself to remember everything of this night, of this moment with you. He finally had you, and even if it was only for a few hours, he will never forget it, always recalling your perfection. « Y/n- He wanted to tell you something, but he didn’t. Instead, he just let himself go diving completely into the pleasure he was feeling. He whispered your name,as he came. It shouldn’t felt this intimate, this meaningful. But it really did. He laid down beside you, his hand caressing your cheek. You were looking into each other eyes. You wanted to tell him, how you felt, but it wasn’t the right moment. So you stayed quiet, simply smiling. He smiled back, coming closer to kiss you again. Jaehyun had to leave soon after, but before he made you promise you won’t leave without saying goodbye. You promised, your heart heavy from just the thought of leaving without seeing him before. He kissed you one last time and left. Maybe you shouldn’t feel bad about what just happened but you did. Suddenly you weren’t so sure about your departure tomorrow. You kissed your mom goodbye, and you cried as she started telling you how much she was going to miss you. You promised her you’ll be back soon, this time more meaningful than last time. Your brother was waiting for you ready to drive you to the train station. « Sicheng ? -Yeah ? -Could we just pass by Jaehyun’s before ? -Why ? -To say goodbye to his parents. I didn’t have the time last night. » He stopped just in front of the house and you got out. Madam Jeong answered the door. « Oh darling you are already leaving ? -Yes, I am on my way to take my train. » You hugged her, and you promised her to come back soon, too. « Hm, is Jaehyun here ? -No sweetie, he is gone in town. » You wanted to cry. You had no time to wait so you simply told her to greet him for you and you left. « Is everything okay ? You look sad. » Sicheng was looking at you, almost worried. « Hmm, no I am fine. I just- Kinda don’t want to leave. -Well I was not expecting that. » It had always been kinda hard to talk to your brother. Maybe because you were radically different. « You know you can come back as soon as you want. Mom misses you, I miss you, damn even Jaehyun told me he had miss you. » Yeah you definitely were going to cry. « Thank you. -Don’t thank me. You are my sister. » At this moment you didn’t need any words. You smiled at him and hugged him goodbye. If you didn't’ knew your brother better you could swear you saw tears peaking at the corner of his eyes. « Go away now, before I change my mind and tell you to never come back. » You were waiting inside the train station, your luggage clutch in hand, as you were trying to stay warm. You were trying not to think about Jaehyun, and the fact that once again you were leaving without telling him. Your train arrived and you were walking toward your wagon, a strange feeling inside your chest. « Y/N ! » You turned around. Jaehyun was running in your direction. He arrived in front of you, out of breath. « What- what are you doing here ? -You left. -I tried, to come and say goodbye, but you weren’t there. » He just looked into your eyes, and you understood. « I couldn’t. -Couldn’t what ? -Letting you go like this. » You hugged him tightly and he answered. « I wish I could tell you not to go. -I’ll come back soon. -I know. » He kissed you, and you felt yourself leaning into his embrace more. « So goodbye… -Can’t believe you ran all the way here to kiss me goodbye. -It’s not the worst. Sicheng is waiting for me in the parking lot. I am wondering what I am going to say to him. » You laughed. Kissing him again. But soon you heard the speaker announcing the departure of your train. « I have to go… » He didn’t say anything, simply smiling sadly at you. He walked you toward your wagon watching you climb inside. « Good luck with Sicheng. -Don’t remind me please. » You smiled one last time at him before the door closed and the last thing you saw was him smiling back and your departure was feeling less bittersweet suddenly.

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hoboal87 · 5 years ago

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Elastic Heart Chapter One

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, OFCs

Pairing(s): None

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N sees a familiar set of eyes in the crowd, and remembers the first time she saw them and how they changed her life.

Word Count: 4300+

Warnings: Show level violence, cursing, pre-Stanford era Winchesters

Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Chapter One - Senior Year

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N”

I don’t hear my name being called, I’m in my own world, looking out into the crowd for a set of familiar eyes. I spot them three rows back and smile. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I miss the days where I would see those eyes nearly every day.

Life as a nursing student consists of going to class, lab work, interning at a hospital, and occasionally sleeping. I’ve spent the past two years doing nothing but that. I’ve always been one to do things early, but this was the one thing that, for once, I was on par with my peers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the first time I saw those eyes, they altered my life, sending me down a path that I never planned to be on. Taking longer than we had thought, but eventually, I got back on track.

Finish school and get my fresh start. That had been my goal for the past two years. Move on, with or without those eyes in my life. I wanted them, but I knew that logically, it couldn’t happen. Our lives were too different, especially now. I lost my chance of having them with me always; now, I could only cherish the holidays and long weekends that allowed us to be together.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” the announcer’s voice contains a bit of urgency this time, drawing my attention. I step across the stage, shaking my supervisor’s hand, and receive my metaphorical diploma. I look back out into the audience and connect with those eyes again, wide and filled with joy. I take my seat and think back to the first time I saw them and how they changed my life forever.

Fall, 2002

This was it, the first day of my senior year. This is the year I will prove to everyone that I am no longer a kid. This is the year, mom and dad will see that I can act like an adult and make ‘good choices’ but, I’m determined to have just a little fun.

For the last two years, mom and dad have insisted that I take extra courses and go to summer school to ensure I graduate not only with good grades but early. I’ll graduate in the spring and be off to college in the fall. All I really want is to wait, take a year or two, experience life outside of my parents’ house.

I make the point to do as many high school activities as I can. Activities that they discouraged me from doing for the last two years; choir, volleyball, anything that will get me out of the house but still considered a school activity. I joined the decorating committee, wanting to participate in homecoming as much as possible. I know as long as I do nothing life-altering, I’m gonna be free in May.

“Be mindful of your grades, Y/N,” dad said, reading over all the consent forms, “if they slip, you will need to cut these extracurricular activities.”

“They won’t slip, dad.” I roll my eyes. “It’s my last year, let me have a bit of fun, please?”

“Your average drops below an A, and I’m pulling you out of each one of these clubs, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I mull over telling him the other part of my plan. “I was… thinking about getting a job.” I look down, not wanting to make eye contact. “Something part-time?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Y/N,” mom enters the room, “You’re going to be so busy already, tell her Rob.”

“Your mother has a point, and if they accept you to all these clubs, when will you even have time?”

“I may not even end up in the choir or the volleyball team,” I argue, “and if I don’t I’ll have a free period every day, I can talk to the counselor about making it my last class and—it’s my Senior Year, please, don’t you guys think I deserve a little more credit than this? I should get to experience a little bit of independence, don’t you think? I’m gonna be away at college in a year, I’m probably gonna have some on-campus job, I need to learn how to balance between the two.” I catch my breath, hoping that they will agree.

“Fine,” dad sighs heavily, “the same deal goes. Your grades slip, no more working. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes!” I throw my arms around him, “Thank you!”

“Maybe you could get a job at the clinic,” mom chimes in, “get some experience in the field?”

“I don’t think anyone wants a sixteen-year-old working at the clinic, Sarah. Maybe at the drugstore, though?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the couch, “maybe.”

I discreetly start looking at apartments that could be for rent after graduation. I look on the outskirts of town and find a garage apartment that a very sweet older lady agrees to rent to me if it is still unoccupied over the summer. Finding a job gets put on the back burner as the school year moves into full swing. It turns out I can’t sing, and I suck at volleyball, but the coach offers me the position of manager, allowing me to still participate with the team at pep rallies and travel with them on away games. As the season comes to a close, and with Thanksgiving break around the corner, I decide it’s time to actively look for a job.

The trouble is finding someone willing to hire a 16-year-old high school student with no experience. I try some local retail stores, but I know that mom and dad will never go for the hours they want me to work. I walk into Joe’s Burgers, my favorite place to get some dinner and continue looking through the classifieds.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” I look over and wave to the man behind the counter.

“Hey, Dan, can I get a Bacon—"

“Your usual?” he cuts me off, smiling.

“Yes, please,” I look down sheepishly, handing him the exact amount of money without being told the total.

“Whatcha got there?” he nods towards the paper that’s now on the counter as he hands me my receipt.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a job,” I tuck the paper under my arms. “Need to earn some money so I can get outta this town after graduation.”

“What’s wrong with the town,” his face grows serious, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Shit—I mean, n-nothing. Fuck."

“Y/N/N!” Dan bursts into laughter, “I’m just messing with you! You think you’re the first person who hates living here? We’re a small-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, relieved, “I’ll be in my spot, okay?” He tries to contain his laughter as I walk away, making my way to my usual table. I flip through the pages, seeing nothing that would really work for me.

“You know Joe has been talking about hiring another cashier,” Dan says, bringing my food over, “and you’re practically here all the time anyway, you may as well make some money while you’re at it. You want me to talk to him?”

“Really? Do you think he’d hire me? I can’t stay late on week-nights because of school, mom and dad would kill me.”

“Yeah, we need someone to work the register, Jana can’t do it all herself. Whaddya think?”

“Oh, my god Dan, that would be amazing!” I get up and throw my arms around him to give him a hug. I watch as Dan walks to the back of the restaurant, after a few minutes he returns, giving me the thumbs-up. Before I leave, he gives me paperwork to fill out and a uniform, telling me to return the next day for training.

For three days, I train, working with Jana on the register. She is a few years older than me, with absolutely no filter. She always has me hunched over, laughing at something she has said or done. The lunches are busier than usual with the break. On Friday, she decides it’s time to leave me on my own, ‘best way to learn,’ she quips.

I’ve never been a social butterfly, and the thought of having to deal with customers on my own genuinely terrifies me for a few moments. After giving myself a small pep talk, I turn around to see three large men waiting for me.

The shortest of the three looks at me, and leans over the counter, “I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” he asks, flashing me a wink.

“I’m sorry?” I can’t believe this guy is serious.

“My brother and I were wondering,” he gestures to the tallest of the three, “if it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“W-what?” I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks.

“Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” the older man behind him smacks him upside his head, and I have to stifle my laughter. He offers a sympathetic smile toward me.

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” I shot back; it was the only thing I could think of, albeit an awful comeback.

“It’s okay, just blink if you want me,” I stare straight into those green eyes for a solid 10 seconds before turning away.

“Dean, leave the girl alone, how old are you doll?” he asks, turning to me.

“Sixteen,” I say, watching as he rolls his eyes at the other two.

“See, are you trying to go to jail, son?” he says, looking at me apologetically “I’m sorry my sons are two walking hormones.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” the tall one huffs. Green-eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t even Sam, I heard you when we walked in.” Their dad grabs them by the shirts and drags them both to stand in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this man grabbing his two grown sons like they were pre-teens, “Now apologize to…” he looks at my name tag, “… Y/N.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to offend you,” Green-eyes says insincerely.

“That’s fine, it’s part of the job, learning to deal with frat boys who love to mess with townies,” I smile back curtly.

“What the fu—” green-eyes is clearly trying to contain his anger, but his dad chuckles at the remark, and his brother can hardly control himself.

“Yeah, frat boy, don’t mess with the townie,” the younger one laughs, pushing his shaggy brown hair away from his face, revealing gleaming hazel eyes flecked with hints of green and blue surrounded by dark full lashes.

“Listen, Y/N,” green-eyes looks at my name tag again, “we ain’t no frat boys, in fact, we’re here becau—”

“All right, Dean, that’s enough.” His dad gives him a stern look that is clearly a silent conversation. “Since we’re off to such a wonderful start, let’s start over, yeah?”

I nod politely. These guys are clearly passing through and will be gone in a matter of hours or days, but Joe wants us to make all people, even the ones we’ll probably never see again, feel welcome.

“I’m John, you already know Dean,” he reaches his hand out towards the tall one, “and this is Sam. We’re actually looking into the recent animal-related deaths,” he says, producing a Fish and Wildlife Badge. I study it for a moment before handing it back. “We’re interviewing some of the local business owners and residents in the area of the attacks. Have you heard or seen anything usual, smelled anything weird, anything that comes to mind?”

“Oh.” I look at the three men; here I was being a bitch to the people trying to help. “Um, I just started working here a few days ago, animal attacks?” I look back up to John, who nods. “The only animals around here are coyotes, but even they’re pretty rare. I haven’t heard anything, but I keep to myself. Joe might know something, he’s the owner and knows everything about everyone.” I offer a smile.

“Is Joe in today?” John asks. His grey eyes hold so much pain as he looks at me.

“Um… yeah. He may have a few minutes now that we’ve slowed down. I can see if he can come talk to you?”

“That’d be great, thanks, Y/N.”

“Please, Y/N/N,” I say, blushing, covering my nametag, “No one really calls me Y/N.”

“Y/N/N,” he repeats, “I’d really like to speak with Joe if it’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, shit. Let me go get him,” I say, walking towards the back. “Hey Jana, I’m gonna go get Joe. Watch the register?”

“I got it,” she hollers back.

“Dude! She’s 16!” I hear who I assume is Sam whispering loudly. “Shut up! How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Dean, she’s obviously not 18. Stick to girls your own age,” John responds. “Sammy—.”

I can no longer hear the men as I reach the door to Joe’s office. Jana and Dan had both told me that his door usually stayed open, today it was not only closed, but it was locked as well. I knock, waiting for him to answer. He looks a little frazzled when he opens the door, but smiles at me, “Hey, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

“There’s a guy from Fish and Wildlife; he’s looking into the recent animal attacks? He’s asking about strange occurrences or something? I don’t know, but I know you pay attention to that kind of stuff, so he wants to talk to you.”

“I—shit, yeah, let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he straightens his shirt and closes the door behind him.

I nod and head back to the front of the building. I watch as the boys and their father seem to be in deep discussion. Turning away when I realize Dean has caught me staring. I gather their food, and as I walk towards their table, I can hear that for some reason, I am the current topic of discussion, specifically, my age.

“Actually, I’ll be 17 in a month,” I quip, dropping their food, unsure of why I am engaging with this odd group of men.

“Huh?” Dean looks at me curiously.

“Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I’ll be 17 next month.”

“Still illegal, Dean,” Sam smirks.

“Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy,” Dean winks at him.

“Boys, stop treating this girl like she’s a piece of meat,” their father doesn’t even look up from his plate.

I can’t help myself, I’m usually not this brazen, but something about these outsiders coming in, I have to say it, “Well, here in the Great State of Texas the age of consent is 17, it’s not technically illegal,” and before I can stop myself I wink at Dean.

“Oh, Y/N, you are killing me here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here,” Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders, “may be able to help you out.”

Sam blushes furiously; it’s actually adorable. I can feel the heat coming up in my own cheeks, and know if I stay any longer, they will see it very clearly.

“Joe’ll be out in a few minutes,” I say, turning to go back to the register. I walk away, adding a little sway in my hips as I know the younger men are watching. “Lemme know if there’s anything else I can get you,” I shoot another wink, this time in Sam’s direction.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” John’s baritone voice carries through the restaurant.

I watch Joe take a seat with the three men, the younger boys listening and observing their father very carefully. I watch John grab something—a fork?— out of his pocket and discreetly place it in front of Joe. Why would he do such a thing? Joe and the men continue to speak for 10 minutes until the dinner rush starts, and Joe excuses himself.

The three men finish their burgers and leave the restaurant; concern etched on their faces as they have a heated conversation.

Throughout the dinner rush, I notice that Sam is stationed outside of the building. It looks as though he’s watching somebody. But every time I look up, his position has changed. After it grows dark, I can no longer see him outside; I realize I shouldn’t let him occupy my mind. Jana and I work furiously until a few hours later when we finally close.

“First day on your own,” Jana says, letting her hair down and hopping onto the counter. “You did good Y/N/N, only a couple mistakes.”

“Thanks, it’s not always gonna be like that, right?” I say, sighing, mimicking her actions with my own hair.

“Nah, I mean, the Friday and Saturdays will be, but unless it’s a school break, the nights are not usually too crazy,” she reassures me.

“Thank God,” I laugh, “what about the customers? Did you see those guys earlier? The ones talking to Joe?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I am blushing at the mention of the men.

“Oh, you mean the green-eyed one who was clearly hitting on you?” She smirks at me, “With the older guy and the really tall guy?”

“Yeah… you have an excellent memory…” I laugh, “he was so cheesy. ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” I mock him. “I mean, he can’t think girls really fall for that? Even the tall one knew it was a bad line.” I blushed a little, thinking about them.

“Oh my god, you like him, green-eyes.” She gasps, “You wanna jump his bones,” she sang mockingly at me, “you love him!”

“Shut up,” I threw my apron at her playfully, “I do not want to jump his bones. Besides, I’m jailbait. He’s at least 21 or so.” Jana raises her eyebrow at me. “He basically told me he couldn’t.”

“So… you’re saying you would if he was younger?” she giggles.

“Jana! No! He’s not my type. He’s way too cocky—he probably thinks he’s God’s Gift to Women,” I mock him again.

“What about the tall one? He was gorgeous,” she offers, “And the dad? He’s hot, like I will so call him Daddy. Let him just—."

“That’s way too much information, Jana. Anyway, if green-eyes is too old, how on earth is the dad not even more wrong?”

“That’s what makes it so hot… like, the wrongness of it…” she says mock fanning herself. “Okay, so clearly, the giant is the one you’re gonna have to do. You can just climb on top—" she says, moving her whole body onto the counter, “and take him for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jana.” I try to suppress my embarrassed laughter. But I blush furiously at the thought of Sam, especially with the image that Jana just planted in my head. I cover my face with my hands as I try to compose myself.

“Oh my god, you are so red!” Jana laughs, “It’s the giant! He’s the one you lo-ove!”

“I don’t even know him! They’re just passing through. You know the type, no one actually moves here. Not for real, at least. They’ll be gone in a week.”

“Y/N/N, that’s why it’s perfect. Hook up, get all that pent-up frustration out of your system, and then you’ll go your separate ways,” she offers. “Wham-bam-thank you-ma’am.”

“I’m really not into that one-night stand stuff,” I say, “I mean, what’s the point?”

“Come on, Y/N/N, that’s the point. Sometimes you just need a release. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with some guy you just met and hook-up with once. I mean, you’ve hooked up with guys before, right?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Oh, my God. Y/N/N, you’re not a virgin, are you?” she whispers so that Dan and Joe won’t hear. I nod, I didn’t have a problem with my own virginity, but other people did. I know I have plenty of time. And with how busy mom and dad keep me, I have no time for boys. “Oh, okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know. Besides, mom and dad don’t even like the thought of me dating; they’d make the guy ask for permission. It’s not that I would ever have time for it anyway. Either way, it’ll happen whenever it happens, and it will probably not be great the first time,” I laugh, trying to break the serious look on Jana’s face. “I have very low expectations, especially if he’s never done anything either. Most boys my age don’t know what they’re doing anyway.”

“Not to be all romantic or whatever, but you know it doesn’t have to be like that. Your first time doesn’t have to suck. It can be really nice if you get the right person.”

“I figure it will either be awesome or okay,” I laugh, “hope it’s awesome, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have one more mom moment with you, and then we can leave, okay?” she grows slightly serious, and I nod my head. “Bring condoms.” I choke out a laugh. “I’m serious. Don’t count on the guy to do it. And don’t trust the ‘pull-out’ method. Dudes always think they can time it right, and half the time…” she makes a gesture I don’t quite understand, I look at her confused. “Inside. Or at least not all the way out. And I’m sure getting pregnant isn’t a part of your grand plan.” She smiles softly. “If you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with, you can come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, if and when the day ever comes, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She raises her eyebrow. “I swear. Don’t count on it being anytime soon, though.”

Jana finishes counting the tips, and I count the register. We grab our bags, say goodbye to Dan, who’s still closing down, and Joe, who’s in the office looking at receipts.

Jana and I live about a block away from each other, and close enough to the restaurant that neither of us bothered driving. Every week it’s getting colder, and I know by the first week of December it will be too cold to walk home at night. But until then, Jana and I walk together, her house off of the main road that leads to mine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Jana asks as we reach her street.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Then you’ll have to walk back by yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m prepared.” She pulls mace and a small knife that’s attached to her keychain out. “If someone or something tries to get me, stab stab.”

“Jesus, Jana,” I laugh out of shock. “No, I’ll be fine, how about tomorrow before work I get me one of those and then I’ll be prepared as well.”

“Fine, but call me when you get home,” she jots a number down and waves goodbye, “I’m serious Y/N/N, call me. If you don’t, I will call your parents.”

“I will,” I yell, turning back to head home.

I feel that I’m being followed. Paranoid, I know. I swear I can hear footsteps behind me, but every time I turn around, there’s nothing there. Freaking Jana, this is her fault. I’ve never had issues walking home at night before, but now I’m hearing things that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t put “I’m prepared,” in my head, now feeling like a taunt. I’m less than 5 minutes away from my house; what could possibly happen?

I hear a growling, something inhuman; it grows louder as I try to will myself to move faster. I turn the corner, and that’s when it happens, someone, something, jumps out of nowhere and starts running towards me. I try to run, but my legs won’t move, “fuck.”

I hear yelling, but I still can’t move, the creature is getting closer to me, and I get a good look at it. Claws, it has fucking claws. Its eyes are yellow, and its teeth are huge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a werewolf. But werewolves don’t exist. This must be the creature that John was looking for.

‘It’s some kind of rare species of bear,’ I tell myself, ‘a bear.’

It’s only about a foot away from me; it looks like something out of a horror movie. It’s on its hind legs, unnatural noises leave its body, and before I can even move, it's swiping at me. All I can do is close my eyes and pray it doesn't kill me. A loud bang forces my eyes open, I stand there, still unable to move. I look up to see a set of familiar eyes before me, ones I hadn’t expected to see ever again. Sam.

Chapter 2

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #Elastic Heart #Elastic Heart 1

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omnivorousshipper · 5 years ago

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Shobbs: Dance to the Beat of the Drum

Shobbs Ballet AU!

Summary: Luke Hobbs goes undercover at one of London's most prestigious ballet schools, where he's pretending to be a famous dance choreographer. And it seems almost like an impossible job before he meets one ballerina: Deckard Shaw.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going, you big oaf!” What felt like the hundredth, cranky ballerina snapped at him. Mumbling out a quick apology, Luke kept moving, trying to navigate the halls of the dance school. It seemed to go on forever, as Luke went up yet another set of stairs, having to hug the wall as he went because a whole group of little girls came rushing down all at once. It seemed no matter what part of the school Luke was in, there was always some kind of class or practice happening, making his job even harder.

At the moment, Luke was undercover as a famous American choreographer- Markus Nightingale- so he could gain access to one of the most prestigious ballet schools in London. The DSS had received reports of international human trafficking happening through the school and wanted one of their best getting in and taking the operation down from the inside out. The only problem was that they had just barely briefed Luke before sending him in. All they had managed to do was hand him a folder containing likely suspects and what person he was imitating, and nothing on how to actually talk ballet.

So, Luke was wandering the halls, trying to find the room where he was supposed to work with several dancers, who were all probably very upset by now because he was ten minutes late. Reaching the end of the hall, Luke peaked into the room he assumed was assigned his for the time being. It looked like all the other rooms he had passed on this floor: floor to ceiling mirrors on two of the walls with a ballet bar in front of them, plenty of space to jump and run around, and only a few chairs folded up and leaning against the wall.

Sitting off to one side of the room was a wiry looking man in a suit, who looked to be mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Meanwhile, a dancer was already set up and warming up in poses Luke knows he could never pull off. The man was standing at the ballet bar, with one leg stretched out behind him, with his foot resting on the bar. He was gripping the bar with his hands, and leaned down, twisting his torso slightly away from the bar, to stretch his muscles. He did this several times, before he brought his leg down to stand next to the bar. Resting one arm on top of it, he raised the same leg into the air and brought it up so high, that he was doing a split. Luke’s eyes were huge as he watched the ballerina grab the top of his foot to stretch his leg out.

I am so fucked, Luke thought as he watched the professional ballet dancer. How was he supposed to pretend to be a famous choreographer, when he didn’t even know what moves the guy was doing in front of him? The agency hadn’t even bothered telling Luke how long he would be undercover, so there was no way of knowing how long he would have to keep up the act, as well. Cursing his luck, Luke finally gave a small knock on the doorframe before entering the room.

“Ah! Mr. Nightingale! It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard such great things about you,” the man in the suit exclaimed, jumping from his seat and rushing over to shake Luke’s hand. His smile was overly wide, which caused his thin face to stretch in almost unnatural way. “I’m Allen Field, one of the dance coordinators. It’s my job to make sure each and every unique dancer under our institution is well cared for and all their needs met.”

“Nice to meet you, Allen,” Luke responded with his own over the top smile. Are you talking about dancers, or animals? Luke thought to himself. “But, I have to say, you guys have to label your school. Took me forever to find this room.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Nightingale, you’ll get used to it. We all do eventually,” Field responded, his smile looking more like he was baring his teeth. “Now, I want you to meet the dancer you’re going to be working with the most. We’ll be expecting you to be choreographing several performances during your stay, but we’re hoping that you’ll put all your effort into creating something truly special with Deckard here.”

As he talked, Field started to gesture wildly before grabbing Luke’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip and dragging him over to the dancer. He had stopped his stretches and was currently standing with his arms crossed as he waited for the other men, looking equally unimpressed and irritated.

“Mr. Nightingale, I’d like to introduce you to one of our all time performers, Deckard Shaw. He’s been with our school for nearly two decades now, and has been our leading star in over a dozen of our productions, and has even taught some of our other acclaimed alumni.”

“Sounds impressive,” Luke said and stuck his hand out, while subtly looking the other man over. When he had been told he’d have to work with ballerinas, Luke hadn’t been expecting anyone like Deckard: head neatly shaven, a bit of stubble, and an expression that suggested that he had just taken a bite out a lemon. “Markus Nightingale, nice to meet you.”

Deckard’s body was stiff as a board as he stared at Luke, almost as if he was trying to see into Luke’s soul. He must have deemed Luke worthy enough because he let out a grunt before shaking Luke’s hand in a crushing grip. “Hope you’re as good as they say.”

Me, too, Luke thought, impressed by the dancer’s strong grip and returned in kind. The only indication that Deckard even felt the returned grip was the small smirk that formed on his face. Luke felt his eyebrows raise a tiny bit. Who knew a ballerina would have that kind of strength. Feeling his respect for the dancer go up, Luke finally relented and let go of the other man’s hand.

“Now,” Field clapped his hands and said in an overly cheery voice, “Let’s get started! I can’t wait to see what you have prepared, Mr. Nightingale.”

Luke smiled back at the overly ecstatic man, and looked at Deckard, who was just frowning back him. And it really hit Luke right then and there how difficult this assignment was going to be. He was in a field that he had absolutely no knowledge of and was purely flying by the seat of his pants. Any one of these professionals could call him out on his obvious ignorance. But, he wouldn’t be Luke Hobbs if he wasn’t able to improvise. Looking away from the smaller man, Luke thought quickly. Spotting the folding chairs, Luke had an idea.

“Ah, about that,” Luke said, and watched Deckard’s eyes narrow and Field’s face marginally fall. “Before I get started, I like to talk to my dancers, get a feel of who they are and what kind of choreography would work best for them. So, how about we have a little chat before I tell you about any of my ideas.”

If it was possible, Deckard’s eyes narrowed further, his face obviously showing his thought of ‘this is bullshit’, while Field’s face perked back up as he looked excitedly between Luke and Deckard.

“That’s a splendid idea!”

Taking that as permission, Luke quickly grabbed two folding chairs and set them up near where Deckard was standing, while Field dragged his own over, to make a small circle. After, settling into one, Luke watched Deckard’s eyes dart around the room, mostly likely looking for an escape. After a few moments, his shoulders slumped a little and he finally sat down, keeping his arms crossed and body tensed as if ready to run.

“All right, Deckard. Tell me a little about yourself. What got you interested in ballet?” Luke asked, trying to keep his smile non-threatening and unassuming. But, the other man seemed to be put off by it, as he looked over at Field, who only gave a jerky nod of encouragement.

“When I was younger, my kid brother and sister were takin’ a few classes. After a few complaints, the teacher wanted me to sit in on the class, and make sure my siblings behaved. Got interested, took a class myself, and next thing I knew, I was performing regularly,” Deckard said shortly. “Why do you need to know this stuff?”

“To know where your passions lie,” Luke said confidently. “If I know how dedicated you are to your craft, the easier it will be to trust you with any of my work.”

“You don’t trust how dedicated I am?” Deckard hissed out, clearly pissed off.

“Now, now, Deckard. I’m sure that’s not what Mr. Nightingale meant,” Field said in a voice that wanted to sound soothing, but instead came out almost like a mother scolding a child. Deckard’s glare was turned on Field instead, who let out a small squeak of terror and frantically looked over at Luke. “Right, Mr. Nightingale?”

“Well, that’s the thing, I don’t really know, do I?” Luke said, giving Deckard a small smirk. It was amusing to watch the other man’s forehead crumple in frustration, as he tried to keep his cool. “So, let’s keep going. What productions have you done so far?” This went on for quite some time, with Luke asking any questions he could think of and stall until the meeting was over. But by the way Field kept nodding encouragement towards Luke and Deckard, Luke feared that he might actually have to present some kind of planned choreography. On the other hand, Luke was enjoying himself immensely. Deckard Shaw was an incredibly good looking man, and Luke had to admit that the more irritated the dancer became, the more beautiful he became in Luke’s eyes. Which may or may not have been the reason why Luke kept poking at the smaller man and watching the little spark of anger that came into his eye.

Checking his watch, Luke was starting to get desperate- unless he started to ask Deckard what his blood type was, Luke knew there wasn’t much more he could do to stall.

“Ok, then how long have you been using that type of stretching?” Luke asked, with a lot less confidence than he started with.

“What kind of bloody que-” Deckard started, when he was interrupted by Field’s phone ringing.

“Ah! I’m so sorry gentlemen, but I must take this,” Field hastily apologized, fumbling for his phone. “But, please, continue.”

Luke watched the man walk out and loudly close the door, silently begging for him to come back. He had no idea how he was supposed to keep the act up- sooner or later, he was going to be caught, and he had just started the operation. Silently cursing his luck and his superiors, Luke turned back towards Deckard, trying to think of yet another pointless question to ask the other man.

Instead of seeing Deckard peacefully sitting in his chair, Luke saw a blur of motion coming straight for him. Jerking away from the swinging punch that was directed at his face, Luke felt his whole body going backwards. A loud crash sounded through the room as Luke and chair landed on the floor in a heap.

“What the fuck?!” Luke yelped out, but before he had time to collect himself, Deckard was coming for him again.

The other man was quick as lightning as he threw himself at Luke, and the two went rolling on the floor. Luke tried to grab Deckard by the hips, but the man squirmed out of his grasp like an eel, and delivered several sharp jabs to Luke’s ribs, causing him to let out a grunt. Finally, Luke got a handful of Deckard’s shirt and tossed the dancer off of him. Luke scrambled to his feet and saw Deckard do the same, but with much more grace.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you small ass maniac?” Luke demanded.

Instead of answering, Deckard glared and rushed towards Luke again. Even though Luke was staring straight at him, the dancer moved with such an incredible speed, that he was almost too fast for Luke to register as he delivered punches and kicks nonstop. Luke was successful in blocking some, but the smaller man had the advantage it seemed, as he was able to send a sweeping kick at Luke’s head.

Without thinking, Luke grabbed the leg coming towards his head, and harshly yanked on it. He felt Deckard’s weight drop to the floor with a surprised yell as he lost his balance. As soon as he was on the ground, Luke could see Deckard pulling his feet under him, ready to spring up again.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Luke growled and dropped down on the other man. It almost felt like he was trying to grapple with water, as Deckard wiggled for all of his worth. Somehow, Luke was able to get a hold of fast moving arms and pin Deckard’s wrists to the ground. Luke pulled Deckard’s arms up above his head and kept them in place with one hand, using the other to push down on the back of Deckard’s neck, efficiently trapping the smaller man under him.

Harsh panting filled the room as both men stilled, with Luke moving his legs to stop Deckard from jerking his up and pushing Luke off of him. Under his hand, Luke could feel Deckard straining his neck to move his head in a more comfortable position.

“Now, want to tell me why you attacked me, you absolute bastard?” Luke panted out.

“Fuck you, arsehole,” Deckard spat out, just barely being able to glare up at Luke from his place on the floor.

Applying a bit more pressure on his neck, Luke shook his head. “That’s not the right answer. Come on man, you were just answering my questions pretty well a while ago.”

“When you were pretending to be a shitty choreographer?”

Luke froze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, get off of it, you right bastard,” Deckard huffed out a laugh. “The only person you’re fooling is the wanker in the suit. He wouldn’t know a real choreographer from his own arsehole.”

And yeah, Luke had to agree.

“So,” Deckard continued. “Who the bloody hell are you?” Luke sighed. The jig was up. “Look, if I let you up, do you promise not to attack me again?”

“No.”

“Then it looks like we’re doing this the hard way,” Luke sighed. Swiftly, he turned the other man over, keeping his arms and legs pinned to the floor. Making eye contact, Luke made sure he had Deckard’s attention. “What I’m going to tell you is classified information. If I tell you this and you let this leak, I’ll make sure you never see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of your life.”

“Just get on with it.” Deckard rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I’m a DSS agent, sent undercover to find information on rumors of human trafficking occuring in this school,” Luke admitted and watched Deckard’s reaction.

Under him, he saw Deckard’s body freeze and his eyes widen.

“Bloody fuck.”

“Yeah. So, you’re right. I’m not a choreographer, but I need to keep this cover or else whoever is part of the trafficking ring will get wind of me, and everything will be ruined.”

“Well,” Deckard began, and gave Luke a searching look. “You’re never going to pull it off if you don’t get some pointers.”

“You offering?” Luke asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I guess so,” Deckard gave a small shrug. “I want those sick bastards caught, and if you’re the one to do it, I suppose I’ll help ya.”

Luke pursed his lips and looked down at the other man. They kept eye contact for a few seconds, before Luke slowly released Deckard’s wrists and got off of him. Watching for any attempted escape attempts, Luke was surprised when all Deckard did was sit up and smooth down his shirt.

“But, why the hell did you attack me?” Luke asked warily. “And I know some of those moves aren’t from ballet. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“My little sister’s an agent,” Deckard shrugged. “Paranoia runs in the family.”

Letting out a snort, Luke nodded, understanding the reasoning. As soon as Sam was able to, Luke had started to teach her self defense, so Luke could see Deckard’s sister developing the same urgency to get her older brother to learn how to protect himself.

“So, what do I need to know to be a convincing choreographer?”

“First thing is, you need to actually know something about ballet,” Deckard deadpanned.

“Ok, good point,” Luke sheepishly agreed.

“And to really know ballet, one must do ballet,” Deckard said, sending Luke a toothy grin. With that, Deckard stood up and walked by Luke, who was still sitting, and patted his shoulder, “Let’s see if we can’t find any tights in your size, big guy.”

Luke’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and then drew down just as fast. He didn’t like the way Deckard said that.

#shobbs #luke hobbs #deckard shaw #hobbs and shaw #deckard shaw x luke hobbs #ballet au #fanfic #prompt fill #asks #my fanfic

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the-old-40sbuckybarnes · 5 years ago

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You Mean, Like a Date?

Summary: It’s 1942, and when Steve decides to get really drunk, he realizes he might like Bucky as more than a friend.

Pairings: Preserum Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2,765

Warnings: drinking, some angsty feelings and some internalized homophobia, but mostly fluff! :)

A/n: this is my first time publishing a fic!!!! apologies in advance if it’s terrible but i just love stucky so much!

Steve always liked the color red. He admired the way it gleamed amidst all of the patriotic paraphernalia that lined the streets of New York. He loved the way it reminded him of the crimson dress with gold buttons that his mother would wear only a few times during the year, for special occasions. But most of all, Steve felt proud when he saw the color red, staining his hands as he wiped away a bloody nose. He wasn’t afraid of a fight, and dark red blood courtesy of his neighborhood tormentors only emboldened him to fight back.

However, right now, Steve never wanted to see the color red again. He sat alone at a bar just down the street from his tiny Brooklyn apartment and glanced down at a thin piece of paper that detailed his personal information and health records, overlayed by a big, ugly, stamp in bright red ink that said, “DENIED.”

Though Steve was by himself, the bar was teeming with activity. On this Friday night, tall, muscular, handsome men decked out in shiny uniforms were dancing and laughing with their girls before they were to be shipped off to war. A roar of laughter erupted from a group of friends beside him, and Steve winced in annoyance, immediately holding up a finger to signal for another drink. Steve watched intently as the bartender uncapped a frosted glass bottle of beer and slid it over to him. Steve wasn’t much of a drinker, because well, he was as small as men were made, and alcohol tended to destroy him from the inside out. But this was Steve’s fourth rejection from the US military. The war was still raging on overseas, and Steve woke up everyday with a sense of guilt. He felt utterly useless. As he downed his fifth(or was it the sixth?) Budweiser, an “I Want You,” poster taped to the wall mocked him.

The handsome jerks at the bar continued to have a good time, quite ostentatiously, and Steve was about to just pick up a six pack from the store and drink by himself at home, when a forceful clap on the back and a smile that spread like butter prevented Steve from furthering his downward spiral. Speaking of handsome jerks…

“Hiya, Stevie,” crooned Bucky Barnes. He plopped down on the barstool next to him and ordered a whisky. “What’s a guy like you doing in a bar like this?” He teased.

Steve was half relieved, half annoyed to see his best friend interrupt his pity party. Bucky always cheered Steve up, but that was usually through constant pestering and jokes that Steve didn’t feel up for. Steve was just too tired, too drunk, to convey anything but a mumbled, “fuck off,” to which Bucky promptly laughed in response.

“Jesus, this one’s gotta mouth on ‘em,” He mocked incredulously, and Steve rolled his eyes. “What, you got rejected by the army so now you’re trying to be a sailor, starting with their damn vocabulary?”

Though Steve was pissed because of his rejection, a smile broke out on his face. Scratch what he was thinking earlier about not being in the mood-- no matter what the state of his misery way, Steve loved Bucky’s attention. He loved it when Bucky was around. His presence was so warming, and Steve just couldn’t believe he had doubted Bucky’s ability to truly make him feel better.

Unfortunately, Steve didn’t exactly have the capability to be articulate right now. So instead of saying something along the lines of, Hey, Buck, I really appreciate you spending time with me. You always make me happy, “Mmmm, fuck youuuu.” Was all Steve could say with agrin and a drawl.

“Deep down, you know you love me,” Is all Bucky said back plainly, a smile on his face, realizing the fact that Steve must have been drinking for a while if he was cursing this much.

Steve didn’t know if it was the alcohol or his ever present anger towards the entire United States Military, or what, but his heart surged when Bucky smiled back, his charisma practically radiating onto Steve like sun rays on a hot day at Coney Island. Steve half giggled- half snorted and absentmindedly reached out a hand and caressed Bucky’s face. Well, it was more like him patting his cheeks softly the way a grandmother did with a newborn, except way more drunk. “Bucky, Buck, course I do Bucky, hm, you’re blushing! You’re blushin’ Buck.” Steve slurred out, ruffling Bucky’s hair with his other hand.

“Okay, crazy,” Bucky chuckled back, reaching to remove Steve’s clumsy hands, when the pad of Steve’s thumb brushed the corner of Bucky’s lip. Bucky froze, hands caught on Steve’s wrists gently and looked into his eyes. Steve was looking back at Bucky, his bright blues accentuated by the dilation of his pupils, courtesy of the all the beer in his system. The encounter couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like forever for Bucky, who could feel his heart beating in his chest. Steve, even in his intoxicated state, could feel a radiation of energy between them. Suddenly, Bucky blinked his way out of his entranced state and cleared his throat, setting Steve’s hands back down. Steve watched Bucky shift his eyes around the room, before downing the last of his whisky and smiling, like nothing had happened. What had happened anyways? Steve could barely even remember where he was…

“Well, Rogers, I’d say you’ve had enough to drink, but watching you drunk is really fucking funny,” Bucky waved at the bartender. “Another round on me?”

***

“I mean, you should’ve seen the guy’s face, Buck, he didn’t even look at me for more than five seconds and I knew his mind was already made up. “

Police sirens wailed in the distance and a light drizzle fell atop Steve and Bucky’s heads. The streets of Brooklyn were quiet, but not yet silent as the night faded into early morning. A hum of action constantly surrounded the burough, and it was comforting to the two men who trotted down the road.

“I mean, at least let me take the goddamn test, like the other fellas--a fair shot! Gimmie a fuckin’ fair shot before you say no.” Steve half exclaimed, half slurred into the air, and Bucky laughed in response, mostly because Steve always got really cute and frustrated with he was drunk.

The two had been walking for some time, because though Steve’s apartment wasn’t far from the bar, Bucky had to nearly drag the kid home, as he was far too drunk to make the journey alone. Bucky was drunk too, no doubt, but compared to his smaller friend, he could handle his alcohol. Steve continued to ramble on as they finally made their way up the stairs of the apartment complex. On instinct, Bucky reached for the hidden spare key, knowing his friend wouldn’t be able to produce his own at the moment. Bucky turned the knob and ushered Steve inside as the rain picked up into a steady fall.

“You know, I think you should go, Buck, an’ pretend to be me. You’d for sure pass their little test, huh?” Steve though out loud resting against the countertop. Bucky stood opposite to him, resting against the oven, though there still wasn’t a whole lot of room between them, given the small size of Steve’s kitchen. A dim overhead lightbulb illuminated the pair amongst the dark apartment.

“Though, it wouldn’t be long before they saw your handsome face and then recognized my name and then… well they’d figure it out and then we’d both go to jail.” Steve managed to get out, eyes cast downward to the tile floor.

Bucky let out a small scoff and smirked. “So you think I’m handsome, huh?” He replied, his voice low and hoarse, almost suggestive in the silence. He thought back to their almost intimate encounter a few hours ago that had him caught up in Steve’s eyes and slightly shaken for the rest of the night. He wanted to say something more, though he didn’t want to scare himself, or Steve with the feelings that were creeping up on him.

Steve took tentative steps towards Bucky, the sound of his soft, but ragged breathing filling the air, and soon Steve was mere inches apart from Bucky. Looking up through his eyelashes, Steve outstretched a hand, his dainty fingers gently cupping one side of Bucky’s face, for the second time that night, though this time, Steve was driven by a sense of purpose. A surge of warmth pulsated through both men’s veins as they were brought together. Bucky, swallowing thickly, allowed himself to relax as much as he could beneath Steve’s touch, comforted by the fact that they were no longer in a crowded bar with eyes everywhere, but he was still tense.

“Yes,” Steve finally said quietly. “I do think you’re handsome,” Though he was still incredibly drunk, his words felt sobering as the sound of rain pattered on the glass window pane. “So handsome.” Steve almost gasped out with a slight laugh. If it hadn’t been for the incessant pounding of his heart that traveled to every inch of his body, Bucky might have been able to produce something beyond the slight curl of his lips that emerged after Steve spoke.

Steve’s mind was foggy, and he felt disoriented from reality, but he felt compelled to follow through with what was about to happen. Pushing himself up on his tiptoes, Steve’s eyes fluttered to a close. Bucky’s soon followed, as he lowered his neck to reach Steve. The two reached each other ever so slightly. Their lips danced atop each other, like ghosts, hesitant of the next move that could forever change their relationship. Steve used his other hand to fully cradle Bucky’s face, partially to make the moment more intimate, but also because he so desperately wanted to draw Bucky closer.

With that, Bucky decided to plunge himself into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Steve’s delicate body, and holding him carefully as if he was all that he needed. The kiss was passionate and warm, with Bucky taking control and savoring the touch and taste of Steve’s soft lips, that were exploring the sensation of a kiss for the first time. An aura of innocence and excitement surrounded the two men, in the way only the experience of a first love could create.

That was until Steve began to feel more things he never had before. Heat and tension filled his body, sending a feeling through him like nothing else. His lips parted slightly, and a soft, almost inaudible sigh laced with pleasure escaped him. But he didn’t have the opportunity to enjoy it any longer. Steve was abruptly pushed away--gently-- but the very action of it felt cruel.

Bucky had broken off the kiss. He was exasperated and worried. His wide, but sad eyes met Steve’s confused ones. Bucky shook his head and then swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You’re drunk,” He said, almost spat, trying to keep his voice form wavering, because for some reason, tears were brimming in his eyes. What was going on? Bucky knew he wasn’t like this. He never got emotional. He was strong. But gazing upon Steve beneath him, with flushed lips that had just been on his, Bucky was frightened by the fact that he wanted to kiss those lips again. Maybe if I pretend he’s a girl… Just close my eyes and imagine someone else… Bucky thought to himself, trying to reason with the impurity in his mind, but he shook it away, knowing it would be in vain. “Steve, you’re drunk. This is wrong, a-and you don’t want it. I know that.”

“Bucky-” Steve began, feeling defeated. Even drunk, he understood the rejection.

But Bucky just pushed past Steve, slinging on his jacket he had absentmindedly taken off as he came in. “I’m sorry, Stevie.” He said at the door, trying to be as firm as possible, but the tender nickname had slipped out. Bucky took one last look over his shoulder at Steve, standing sad and confused beneath the light, and then stepped into the darkness.

***

The chilly mid-November rainfall had no effect on Bucky, who was fuming as he hustled back to his own apartment. Bucky was a jumble of emotions. He was conflicted at his enjoyment of the moment he had just shared with his best friend, but angry at himself for indulging in such a wrong action. But he had liked kissing Steve. He really had. Bucky realized he had been falling for Steve for all of these years, it just took until tonight for him to realize it.

But Steve was so incredibly drunk. He probably didn’t even mean it… And even if he did, well, Bucky wasn’t going to do anything while Steve wasn’t in a proper state of mind. Bucky felt like he had to push Steve away, no matter how much it had pained him. He reached home, his mind still a mess of guilt and pleasure. Bucky’s last thought before drifting off to sleep was of Steve’s lips.

***

Steve awoke the to though of Bucky’s lips. A lazy smile brushed across his face as soft morning light filtered in through his windows. Unfortunately, as soon as that happened, last night’s memories flooded his mind. Steve thought about kissing Bucky, but groaned as he recalled his rejection. Pulling himself out of bed, he turned the radio on and began to freshen up. A sense of wonder surrounded him as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. Steve had kissed Bucky last night. And for a little while, just a little while, Bucky had kissed him back. A broadcast of war updates and death tolls hummed from the radio. Steve thought back to the kiss, the softness in Bucky’s touch, and the safely he felt wrapped in Bucky’s arms. If Steve couldn’t make a difference overseas at war, than he sure as hell was going to make one here at home.

***

A sweaty, heaving, Steve Rogers stood on Bucky’s doorsteps a few minutes later. Bucky, standing over the threshold and holding the screen door open, was shocked, not only to see Steve given last night, but because the asthmatic looked like he was about to faint.

“Can I come in?” Steve panted out.

“Yeah, jeez, sure,” Bucky chuckled, hoping Steve didn’t remember last night, but also hoping that he did. The two took to the kitchen once again, Bucky grabbing a glass of water for Steve. “No more alcohol for you, Steve, I mean--” Bucky started, trying to feel out the situation, but Steve cut him off.

“I’m still a little hungover. But I’m not drunk anymore, Buck.” Steve said, quiet, but brave, just like himself. This time, it was Bucky’s turn to walk over. Steve’s big blue eyes intoxicated Bucky far more than all the beers he had last night. Doubt resurged in him, but Bucky pushed it down. He wanted this, he knew he did. For the second time in less than 24 hours, they were inches apart.

“And I still think you’re handsome. I still want to kiss you.” He whispered, looking up at Bucky. Steve bit his lip, fearful of being rejected again, but at the same time, wanting his best friend again so badly.

Within a matter of seconds, Bucky’s lips collided with Steve’s again, as tender as ever. As the two explored the kiss, they carefully held each other, mouths fitting seamlessly together in a nimble dance. Steve’s heart fluttered as one of his hands softly gripped the base of Bucky’s neck, resting in his overgrown curls. For one, brief, beautiful moment, neither Bucky nor Steve cared that they were kissing another boy. Because all they wanted was to be with each other, and right now, they were.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his lips curling as he pulled away slightly and opened his eyes to find a tiny, bubbling Steve Rogers. Bucky caressed Steve’s jaw and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind his ear.

“I guess this is the part where I ask you if you wanna see a picture or get a shake or somethin’?” Bucky murmured, cocking his head.

Steve blushed fervently, raising a curious eyebrow at Bucky. “You mean, like a date?”

Bucky grinned and pulled Steve in for another kiss, their lips lingering over one another. “‘Course, Stevie. Right down to the part where I gotta pay for everything, huh?”

#bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #stucky fanfiction #stucky oneshot #pre serum steve #pre serum stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #fluff #stucky fluff

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shadowsong26fic · 5 years ago

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The Family of Spies AU

AKA ‘Shadowsong should not have unsupervised access to multiple fandoms at once: Exhibit A.’

I kid. Mostly.

Anyway, it’s that time again--time for an AU Outline! It feels like forever since I’ve done one of these. …and by ‘forever’ I mean the last one was the SPN/Person of Interest crossover back in January.

This one is, uh, also a fairly niche crossover. It’s inspired and helped along by @tigerkat, who introduced me to one of the two fandoms and whose Star Wars OCs I’m borrowing to make it work. (Also, one or two bits in here are more or less lifted from our IM conversations on the subject

Basically, the short version is, I’ve been watching Nikita, and TigerKat and I have put together this whole extended family for Kallus and Zeb and one thing led to another, wires got crossed in my brain, and here we are.

Welcome to my Star Wars/Nikita fusion.

So, first, some relevant background:

In everything TigerKat and I developed, Alex and Zeb end up collecting/adopting four kids. (TigerKat, feel free to correct me on any details that are Off in any way!)

First kid they adopt is Mirah, shortly after the events of ANH.

Mirah is Human, and around three or four at this point; her parents were part of an extremely pacifist sect, of the kind where even defending yourself against someone trying to kill you is Not Okay. The sect was wiped out (probably not by the Empire, last I heard?) and Mirah was the only survivor; she watched her parents died right in front of her. Alex ended up there on an unrelated mission, and brought the little girl back to base.

Turns out, she’d gotten Attached and would not sleep without him close by.

(I mean. He’d gotten Attached as well but there is a Conversation to be had here, and he and Zeb haven’t actually had it yet, so…yeah.)

So, that’s how they get Kid #1.

Mirah later grows up to be essentially a mob boss/puts together a semi-legal syndicate. She doesn’t have a whole lot of faith in the law.

Second kid is Orryn, something like a year or two later, I think?

Orryn is a Donogh (species name subject to change; they’re basically like human-sized rabbit hobbits), and four or five years older than Mirah. His father and older brother were killed when he was born, and his mother eventually found her way to the Rebels after that. Donoghs tend to have very large families, so the fact that he’s an only child is a little Weird.

His mom is a friend of theirs, and when she dies, Alex and Zeb take Orryn in as well.

He is very Soft, both physically and metaphorically (like I said, rabbit hobbits), and like the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet.

(Mirah learns very quickly to weaponize her brother’s Sad Eyes. She’s very good at getting what she wants.)

The other three kids all end up taking Zeb’s last name; Orryn keeps his original one (his people are matriarchal and matrilineal).

He grows up to be a mechanic, and has a more typical family for his species with nine kids.

Third is Shamie, who’s roughly halfway between Mirah and Orryn; they get adopted a month or so before ESB.

I’ve written about them here; but the most important bits--

They’re Human, agender, and a former street thief/pickpocket. They help Zeb out when a mission goes sideways after his local contact fails to show up, and Zeb decides to keep them, because he really can’t leave them there for a long list of reasons. They’d been on their own for close to a year at that point, and were roughly eight or nine.

(The conversation where Zeb checks in with Alex about this is very entertaining, because he texts to confirm that a third kid is okay in the middle of a firefight. Alex is less than thrilled.)

Shamie and Mirah are basically platonic soulmates. There’s just a sort of click when the two of them meet.

They grow up to be a priest of a sun/fire deity.

Fourth is Hanula, better known as Hanny.

She’s a Lasat baby who they adopt a few months after Endor, after Zeb mentions to the elders on Lira San that he and Alex have been considering a fourth kid, maybe starting with an infant this time, and maybe someone of his own species this time…

Some time not too long after that, Hanula is placed in his arms and he’s told ‘good luck.’

She’s stabby, as in she likes to Stab Things as a baby (usually with, like, a fork), which later gets translated into cooking--she ends up as a Chef.

While she does turn up, of course, she’s not super relevant for this crossover, but she’s Delightful so I thought I’d share anyway XD

(There’s also Alex’s sister and her sons, plus, uh, the various grandchildren, but they’re also not super relevant to the crossover. I can share details about them if anyone’s curious, though.)

As a note, I’ve only seen like half a season of Nikita at this point; so while we’re starting from the same basic premise, I don’t really expect this to converge with actual future plot points like at all. So.

Also, as a result of that, this outline will probably also take on a certain resemblance to Alias and/or other similar Spy Dramas.

Anyway. So. Let’s get this show on the road.

Kallus takes on Nikita’s role in this--Death Faked For You; trained to be a super spysassin by a Shady Black Ops Group from his late teens/early twenties. Much like Nikita in her canon, he meets someone while on an extended cover assignment and falls in love.

Division is less than thrilled with this, and so arrange orders Zeb’s death.

(Obviously, this doesn’t take, because I am Not About That. But Kallus genuinely believes Zeb is dead, which is what pushes him to break free, much like Nikita’s reaction to Daniel’s murder.)

(Zeb also thinks Kallus is dead; he, of course, got picked up by the Ghost crew, but more about him later.)

Mirah will take on Alex’s role (which is why I started referring to Kallus that way, even though in my head and in this outline up to this point he’s mostly Alex XD).

Probably a blend of the two backgrounds--her parents/the sect she grew up in were taken out by Division; probably with the cover story that they were a Dangerous Cult, but the exact reason was more likely Profit or something. Since they mostly weren’t? At least not in the ‘need to be dismantled’ sort of way.

Kallus, like Nikita, was on hand and made sure that the little girl survived, but wouldn’t/couldn’t follow up since he was still a mostly-loyal Division agent at that point. He tracks her down after he breaks free, and they start working together.

She eventually talks him into the idea of her infiltrating Division, as that will better suit their plans to dismantle the organization.

(…really, most of this early part is not super different from Nikita and Alex. Mostly summarizing for anyone reading this who’s unfamiliar with the show.)

Shamie is an older/prior recruit; they’ve been here a few months. Their marksmanship is pretty much bottom of the barrel, so far as the current crop of recruits go, and their hacking skills could use some work, but they’re one of the best at hand-to-hand/other close-quarters combat, and they’re probably top third with explosives and other detail work. And they’re generally a pretty phlegmatic person. Not many of the other recruits keep cool under pressure as well as they do.

They’re probably fairly close to being evaluated and promoted to full Agent status when Mirah is brought in.

The two of them, as in their normal lives/timeline, immediately click. Mirah reports back to Kallus, confirming her infiltration was successful, and also mentioning Shamie.

“Remember what I told you about making friends,” Kallus warns her. “Losing them will be hard. And you can’t know how loyal this person is to Division. Be very careful.”

Mirah internally rolls her eyes, because she’s not dumb, she knows that.

A few more quick parallels, for the Higher Ups at Division:

Arindha Pryce stands in for Percy.

She just has the right blend of Genuine Competence buried under Not As Good As She Thinks She Is to match up with him.

Founding member and leader of Division.

Thrawn stands in for Amanda.

Like, okay. The two of them, for a variety of reasons, have vastly different management styles.

But in terms of his actual skillset and the role Amanda plays, at least on paper? Which is to say, supervising training/constructing covers/monitoring recruits and agents and their mental states?

(Plus, the whole…resident torturer/interrogator/etc. thing…)

Yeah, he could pull that off.

Pellaeon stands in for Michael.

Because I love him.

Also the Vastly Different Dynamic between the Head of Division, the Whatever Amanda’s Actual Job Title Is, and the 2iC/Head Field Operative with these three as opposed to Percy, Amanda, and Michael entertains me.

(Pellaeon is more loyal to Thrawn than Pryce, but only if it came down to an Actual Contest between the two of them would that ever be relevant. He’s extremely competent, but occasionally a little too involved with the recruits, in a fairly paternal sense. Especially since he’s probably a good twenty years older than Michael. But I digress.)

So, Mirah is successfully inserted. That goes pretty much the same as in Nikita canon, completely with Kallus making a splashy return to Division’s radars.

(Probably not at Zeb’s grave, though; if Zeb even has an actual grave.)

She starts interacting with other recruits, including Shamie. The two of them click pretty quickly, all things considered, but given the circumstances…yeah, they keep a certain level of distance, at least for now.

…well, at least on the surface, anyway. Mirah is even more determined to burn Division to the ground if they breathe harm in Shamie’s direction.

(For their part, Shamie may or may not start to notice a few anomalies, but they keep that knowledge to themself for now.)

For a few months, it’s pretty much the pattern the early S1 episodes have--Mirah will get details on an official Division op, pass them along to Kallus, he’ll be on hand to foil it. She gets activated briefly once or twice, but is mostly just working as a regular recruit for her cover.

Plus, you know, evading Thrawn’s suspicions; all that good stuff.

Pellaeon does take a liking to her--she reminds him of Kallus, who was one of the better recruits, and he keeps an eye out for her, much like Michael does for Alex in canon.

Shamie gets activated for their final evaluation/first kill mission about two or three months after Mirah gets recruited. They succeed, but some of the aftermath/followup confirms their previous suspicions about Mirah, and they’re left sort of struggling with what to do about it.

On the one hand, they’re a fairly loyal Division agent at this point, and what Mirah’s doing is probably going to get a lot of their fellow agents, maybe even some recruits, killed. And they know that probably some of what’s been reported as Kallus’s activities is exaggerated, or at least spun to make him look Evil and Division look better, but they know there’s a grain of truth to it.

On the other...they spent a few years, as a child, working for a thief-runner/gang. This was…not a good situation. Gotta keep the baby thieves in line. And they’ve seen other recruits get canceled before. As much as they don’t necessarily want to go against their superiors in Division (again, gotta keep the baby thieves in line; they know what the consequences of that would be), they also know that that loyalty does not go both ways. They are expendable. All of the recruits and agents are.

And they like Mirah. And if they don’t look out for each other…well, who will?

Besides. It’s not like they have any actual proof. Bringing this to Pellaeon, who likes Mirah, or Thrawn, who likes no one--let alone Pryce--seems like it’ll backfire.

So, they stay quiet about what they’ve guessed, and wait, and watch, and work.

Things change when Orryn is recruited.

Mirah and Shamie both take one look at this sweet, gentle boy and have the same thought--he won’t last. He’ll be cancelled within a month. Maybe sooner.

Pryce questions the choice of bringing him in, too; it was Thrawn’s idea. No, he’ll never make field agent, but the boy’s good with mechanics, and computers. If he can survive the training process, they can put him to use there.

Sort of considering him for Birkhoff’s role.

Shamie, even as a full agent, doesn’t have the access or the tools they need to spring Orryn, as much as they want to.

But Mirah--Mirah has Kallus, and a way to contact him.

“This isn’t about my friend. This is about a sweet kid, too sweet for Division, who will be killed or broken if we don’t do something,” she says. “And isn’t that part of what we’re doing here? Trying to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else?”

Kallus is torn. Because, on the one hand, she’s absolutely right--it’s why he was reluctant to send her in undercover (oh, yes, the thought had occurred to him) until she suggested it.

But on the other hand, getting a recruit out of Division without compromising Mirah’s emergency exfiltration strategy is going to be Hard. And as much as he wants to help this kid, he also wants to help/protect the one he has already.

He tells Mirah, eventually, that he can’t promise anything, but he’ll start working on a plan.

Mirah…

Remember what I said earlier, about Mirah tending to get what she wants?

Mirah gets to work on her end. The way she sees it, if she figures out a way to get Orryn outside somehow, whether it’s getting him temporarily activated like she was that one time, or some other excuse, then Kallus won’t have a problem rescuing him.

Of course, she’s just a recruit herself, and she can’t muck around with that without compromising her cover. She’s half-tempted to just shove Orryn out her escape tunnel, her own exit be damned, but Kallus specifically told her not to do that, so she holds back.

The opportunity comes when one of Mirah’s prior breaches is discovered, two or three weeks after Orryn’s brought in.

Possibly the shell program she and Kallus have been using to talk; possibly something else and she didn’t cover her tracks quite well enough (i.e., breaking into Pryce’s office). No one’s tied it to her, not yet, but things are Tense.

Kallus asks Mirah if she needs an extraction, and she again brings up Orryn. “I’m good,” she says. “But the sweet kid I was telling you about…”

“We talked about this,” he says. “And I am working on it, I promise.”

But before either of them can do anything, Orryn ends up at the wrong place at the wrong time, and one of the guards is convinced he’s the mole.

Thrawn points out that this doesn’t make much sense--the serious breaches started well before Orryn was brought in.

Pryce agrees, but insists on letting the situation run its course, to see if it can flush out the real mole.

And Mirah has a Thing about people she’s attached herself to getting hurt.

Mirah manages to somehow get Orryn out of wherever he’s being held. She sends a quick message to Kallus--“Sweet Kid coming out, they think he’s me”--and takes him to the exit tunnel.

They are pursued, of course. By the overzealous guard--and by Shamie.

Mirah gets Orryn into the tunnel and prepares to stand her ground.

Shamie catches up first.

And handles the situation Very Differently from the way Thom does in Nikita canon.

“I’m not turning you in,” they say. “You got Orryn out?”

“Yeah.”

They nod. “Good. Okay. They think he’s the mole, but they’re gonna realize someone helped him escape, unless--”

And then the guard catches up.

There is a Fight. The guard manages to shoot Shamie (not seriously; through-and-through in the upper arm), who tosses Mirah their gun, and she fires back, putting two in his chest.

“…we can work with this,” Mirah says, pressing her hands onto where Shamie’s bleeding. “If we…if we stage it so he pointed the finger at Orryn to cover his own crimes…”

“You have any evidence we can plant on him?” Shamie says. “M’good at that. Planting evidence.”

“Yeah,” she says. She has a key card, and a few other bits and pieces. Shamie, hands shaking slightly, positions them appropriately. “And Orryn…”

“Was also a plant,” Shamie decides. “Sent in when the guard’s cover got shaky, to extract him. But he managed to get away in the confusion. We underestimated him.”

Mirah thinks about this for a minute, then nods. “I think I can sell that,” she says, as more guards start heading their way.

“Good,” Shamie says. “…talk later.”

Mirah nods, and Shamie blacks out, leaving her to spin the lies they need to survive this.

A few hours later, Mirah touches base with Kallus to confirm Orryn got out safely, and to inform him he has another inside agent.

So, the situation has improved somewhat! Unfortunately, it’s also been damaged--since the shell program was found, Kallus and Mirah don’t have secure communications. That first message she got out, about Orryn and Shamie? Yeah, she can’t use that route again, or she’ll establish a pattern.

On the other hand, Shamie is a full agent, which means they have an apartment and the freedom to move around and set an in-person meet. Which Kallus wants anyway, to evaluate Mirah’s friend.

(And, if they check out, to spoof their tracker and give them freedom of movement. Always a plus.)

So, Shamie and Kallus use another one-off communicator to set an in-person meeting, so they can talk.

“You did help Mirah and Orryn,” Kallus acknowledges, after they’ve run through their prearranged confirmation signals. “That counts for something.”

“But you think it could just be me establishing a cover,” Shamie said.

“The thought occurred.”

Shamie doesn’t say anything right away. “I hear all kinds of things about you,” they finally say. “Some of it seems true. Some of it seems exaggerated. I know you’re Division’s enemy, but that…” They shrug. “I trust Mirah. And she trusts you. That’s good enough for me.”

“And Division?”

“I know how gangs work,” they say, flatly. “I used to work for one--they ran a bunch of kids, pickpocketing. Thing about gangs is, most of them do some good in their community--take care of external threats, or whatever. That’s how almost every gang started, anyway. Division may have more money and fancier gadgets and a bigger community, but they work the same way. And most gangs, even if they keep helping their communities sometimes…somewhere along the line, it turns out to be about profit and power more than anything else. But that’s not the issue. The issue is…you can tell, when a gang’s leadership, the loyalty they demand from their members…you can tell when they reciprocate.”

“And Thrawn and Pellaeon and Pryce don’t,” Kallus says.

“Pryce for sure,” they say. “Pellaeon does, but he’s more loyal to Thrawn than the rest of us. Thrawn…is harder to read.”

Kallus considers that for a moment. “You know, what we’re doing--it’s dangerous. I can’t protect you. I burned my one extraction route getting Orryn out.”

“All of my choices are dangerous,” Shamie says. “But like I said. I trust Mirah. She trusts you. I don’t trust Division.”

Another moment of silence. “Here’s our communication protocol,” Kallus finally says. Because Mirah trusts them. And I trust Mirah. If I don’t trust her--what am I even doing here.

Shamie also, as it turns out, has valuable information Mirah didn’t have access to. While not as successful as Kallus, there’s another group working to take Division down; getting involved and throwing off some of their ops.

“Should we reach out to them?” Mirah asks, when this filters back to her.

“No,” Kallus decides. “Most likely, they’re another mercenary group. Trying to be another Division, another Gogol, and take out the competition. There’s a slim chance that they’re actually on the level, but if they’re not…Best to stick to ourselves and avoid drawing in any outsiders.”

The kids agree, because he’s the expert, and drop the subject.

He does, however, ask Shamie to keep tabs on this other group as best they can without compromising their cover. Which should be easy enough.

(Of course, Shamie can only tell him as much as Division knows about them, which isn’t much. They’re a small group, probably a five- or six-person team, and they tend to ghost in and out of situations without leaving much evidence behind…)

The other new advantage they have is Orryn.

Remember why Thrawn wanted him recruited? He’s good with tech and gadgets?

Orryn gets a look at Kallus’s setup, particularly when he’s trying to figure out how to re-establish communications with Shamie and Mirah.

“I can fix that,” he offers.

Kallus blinks. “Plan was, establish an identity and get you out of the country, into hiding,” he says. “Which I will do, I’m working on it, but--”

“Division hurt me, too,” Orryn says. “And Mirah and Shamie are in trouble, and so are you. I want to help.”

Kallus eyes him. He knows, just as clearly as Mirah and Shamie did, that he cannot take this kid into combat. On the other hand…he would’ve been recruited for a reason. And Kallus is well-trained and skilled, but there might be something to said for raw talent and an expert touch.

“All right,” he finally says. “We’ll prep an exfil for you, just in case, but it’ll be some time for me to put it together anyway. We’ll see how things go.”

Orryn nods, and gets to work.

And so pass the next few months, with Mirah working her way up towards qualifying and passing the information she has access to, and Shamie and Orryn supporting Kallus in the field.

Eventually, Mirah goes on her qualifying evaluation, and passes with flying colors. She’s an interesting counterpart to Shamie--she’s a sharpshooter and just as deadly as they are in hand-to-hand, but she doesn’t work as well with the explosives and so on.

Meanwhile, Shamie is a very tactile person--if it’s a hands-on task, especially one that requires a lot of detail work (such as setting up a bomb), there are very few people who can match them. But they have issues with distance kills and with the computer stuff.

Mirah is set up in her apartment, not too close to Shamie, but enough that they can meet. They’re in the same city.

The two of them, on their own, are pretty terrifying assassins.

Shamie is fairly innocuous-looking; dark hair, dark eyes, skinny, blends into a crowd. They’re also the most chill/calm person in the known universe, so people tend to gravitate to them in a crisis. And they’re kind. Genuinely kind, in a way that invites people’s trust.

This is what makes them an excellent priest in another life. And in this one…Beware The Nice Ones is a trope for a reason.

Mirah, on the other hand, is much more overtly intimidating. Unless she’s making an active effort to pretend otherwise, she exudes Danger. She is ruthless and practical.

She is also extremely skilled, good at manipulating people, and very hard to convince to back down.

Now imagine the two of them working together.

Unstoppable and terrifying.

And Division (and Kallus) are both aware of this.

So, they actually end up partnering quite a lot.

The four of them are circling closer and closer to closing in on Pryce and taking her out permanently--Thrawn as well, and Pellaeon as a third priority, but Pryce is their top target--when things Change again.

Mirah and Shamie are put on a wetworks op that requires a team. Probably similar to that one prince dude and the museum.

They feed Kallus the intel, as always, and he comes up with a plan to foil it.

But there are a couple of issues.

He needs Orryn for this op, for one thing. And not just as background, on-site.

When he scouts around to do his own prepwork, there are some technobabble things he need handled, but they need to be within range. Twenty yards, twenty-five on the outside.

So, his first priority--well, maybe not first, but certainly Up There--is to plan out Orryn’s escape route if things go wrong.

The second issue is that Shamie thinks this might be another mission the Unknown Third Party may also crash. Since they still don’t have a lot of intel, that’s potentially another five or six people coming in.

And that’s if they’re correct in that it’s the mystery team, and not Gogol or someone already on the radar.

But the opportunity to interfere with Division and save a life or two is too good to pass up, despite these problems. Kallus plans his counter-mission, and they get to work.

Phase One of the mission goes fairly well. Shamie does confirm a third party is involved, but at first, their presence doesn’t cause too much difficulty for either Our Heroes or Division.

Shamie gets the assassination target pinned down somewhere Kallus and Orryn can extract them; Kallus gets the victim to the prepared escape route, and then returns to deal with the secondary objective; the one that required Orryn--some sort of hacking/virus/Planting Evidence type thing.

Well.

So my Art Skillz are far from up to par, but here’s a general overview of the layout of the scene where they do:

...so I can’t figure out how to make tumblr embed it without throwing off all the rest of my formatting so, click the link.

Where things go wrong is when Kallus gets a good look at the closest member of Team Unknown.

Who is very, startlingly, distractingly Familiar.

And he does the worst possible thing he can do in this situation.

He freezes.

Naturally, another member of the Division team sees the opportunity and takes it.

He gets hit three times in that second--chest, abdomen, upper thigh. Serious injuries.

Mirah immediately runs to him, laying down cover/suppression fire at her supposed Fellow Division Agents.

(…yeah, remember that whole bit about her parents dying in front of her? She’s. Uh. She’s come to view Kallus as a second father. This is Not Okay.)

Shamie follows, of course; she gets to Kallus.

They hesitate for half a second. “…get him out of here. I can handle this. Go.”

Mirah nods and drags Kallus back to the van--

--only to find that Orryn has been taken.

She can’t--she can only be in one place at a time. She’s good, but she’s not that good. And Kallus, her teacher, her unofficially-accidentally-adopted dad, is dying in front of her.

She gets into the driver’s seat and books it.

Shamie fires after her, but…well, marksmanship has never been their strong suit, so they fail to stop her.

This is basically Mirah’s worst nightmare made real.

Her dad is dying.

Her brother is missing.

Her other sibling is trapped and about to be probably tortured.

She is holding together by a thread and the only thing keeping her going is if she falls apart now, Kallus will die.

Okay. Time to do something about that. She can’t do much, but she can do even less about the other things, so. Time to do something.

She gets a tourniquet on his leg, pressure dressings on the other wounds, but she’s pretty sure his lung’s collapsed and she doesn’t know how much other internal damage there is. Her training in field medicine/dressings Will Not Cut It on this one.

Now, Kallus has a contingency--he always has contingencies, he loves contingencies--but Mirah doesn’t know his medical contingency and he’s too unconscious and bleeding-out to tell her.

She can’t take him into an emergency room, obviously, but there’s an urgent care center close by. And Orryn’s stuff is still in the van. Which means she can hack into their records find out who’s coming off shift--because there will be someone coming off shift--and stick a gun in their face.

Which is exactly what she does.

She drags the doctor into the van and points her at Kallus.

“Fix him,” she snaps, but she stops pointing the gun at her at this point--she needs her attention elsewhere to drive and fend off Division agents in pursuit, among other things, and surely this doctor will be overcome by that whole Need To Heal thing. Hippocratic oath. Whatever.

Doctor stares at him. “He needs a hospital, I can’t--” Even as she moves towards him.

(Because there’s that whole Need To Heal thing. Hippocratic oath. Whatever.)

Mirah starts the car. “I’m not gonna tell you again.” She tosses the doctor their first aid kit--which is pretty Extensive. Not on the level of the one at the safehouse, but still impressive. “Anything you need that’s not in there, I’ll get at a pharmacy. Now. Do your damn job or I swear to God.”

The doctor looks at Mirah one last time, then turns her attention to Kallus, and opens the kit.

“Good,” Mirah says.

(And then, while the doctor is stabilizing her dad, as soon as she can pull over for a second, she gets rid of her tracker. She has the standard one, in her thigh.)

(And probably kills a Division agent or two pursuing them along the way…)

When the doctor has finished patching Kallus up as best she can with the supplies on hand and what Mirah stole from a convenient pharmacy, she says, “He really should be in a hospital. He needs a transfusion, and should be on IV antibiotics. And I think there was damage to his femur I couldn’t fix without imaging.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Mirah says. Note to self: rob a blood bank. And a hospital. Saline won’t cut it. I wonder how hard X-ray machines are to steal…

“I’m guessing you know how to change the dressings, and how often to do it,” the doctor says.

“Obviously,” Mirah says. She grabs a handful of money, and shoves it at the doctor--she did her job, she should be paid for it; people should always be Appropriately Compensated for the things they do and in this case that means actual money--as well as the badge she’d pulled out of the doctor’s purse. “You can go. Oh, and, Doctor Sloane? This never happened. You never saw us.”

“Right,” she says.

“Because if you say anything,” Mirah says, “I will hunt you down and kill you. Clear?”

“…crystal,” she says, and takes the money and walks away.

Mirah takes a few more distracting turns (with a couple pit stops for those last few Necessary Supplies), a very roundabout route, and eventually makes it to the safehouse. She gets Kallus set up as comfortably as she can, under the circumstances, on one of the beds, manages to take thirty seconds to check for any messages from Shamie or Orryn, and then curls up in a corner and just…melts down.

Like I said Mirah’s Worst Nightmare.

Let’s check back in with Shamie, who is about to have an extremely rough several days.

Because they get to go spend some Quality Time with Thrawn in full interrogator mode.

And they get the works--torture, hallucinogens, manipulation, everything. To figure out how much they know about Mirah’s compromised loyalties, back to Orryn and everything.

When that comes up, they repeat their older story--that they spotted Mirah pursuing Orryn and the guard, and followed. They got there, there was shooting, and they were sure it was Orryn, or the guard, but maybe it was Mirah. They know she killed the guard, and Orryn was never good at combat skills, just tech…

After somewhere between three days and a week of this, Thrawn can’t get Shamie to admit anything incriminating, and leaves them in a cell to report back to Pryce.

“I would estimate there’s somewhere between a twenty and fifty percent chance that Mirah managed to turn them,” he says.

“So, we cancel them,” Pryce says.

“We could,” Thrawn says. “But that is not my recommendation.”

“Oh?”

“I recommend surveillance,” he says. “My prior sessions with Shamie indicate that they’ve had very little human connection or affection in their life. Even we, for all we provide them, have a tendency to view our recruits more as tools than as individuals. It is absolutely within their makeup to latch on to the first person to treat them and value them as an individual. Which may mean they joined Mirah and Alexsandr’s crusade--or may mean that affection blinded them to things they should have seen in Mirah. If the former, they will lie low for a while, but eventually grow complacent and reach out to their partners. If the latter, they will redouble their efforts to prove their loyalty. And their skillset is not one we can replicate at this time--there’s one recruit showing a certain promise, but they’re very new, at least a year away from graduation. Assuming that particular recruit actually lives up to their potential.”

“So,” Pellaeon cuts in, “letting Shamie live, either way, we gain something valuable.”

“Precisely,” Thrawn says.

Pryce considers for a moment. “Very well, I’ll bow to your expertise. Shamie can return to their prior status. Add more cameras to their apartment before sending them home. And I want to upgrade their tracker.”

“I agree,” Thrawn says. “This would be an excellent time to test out the kill chip program.”

So, Shamie is kept in medical for another day, to have the surgery for the new implant and patch up some of the more significant damage from their interrogation.

They use one of the Contingencies to send a quick message to Mirah and Kallus, confirming they’re alive, and that they have a new tracker and may not be able to keep in regular contact for a while.

So! Let’s see what became of Orryn in the meantime, shall we?

And to do that, we actually have to jump back five years, to the night that made Kallus leave Division and vow to bring them down.

Zeb was military, special ops. He met Kallus when the latter was living on extended cover, and Zeb was about to get out.

They met in some kind of dojo/gym/whatever, and had one of Those sparring matches.

(You know the ones I mean. Where it’s like 30% fight and 70% foreplay?)

They danced around the issue for a while; Zeb knew Kallus works for the government somehow, and is pretty sure he’s either CIA or NSA under some kind of NOC (non-official cover). Eventually, though, they get together.

They have about six months, with Kallus staving off Division as best he can, and Zeb going through the process of finishing out his military service/resigning his commission--as soon as he wraps up one last investigation--and then he proposes.

And, yeah, he thought about waiting until he was completely out, but then he figured--there’s only so much time in a life, and why waste it?

Kallus is getting everything together so the two of them can disappear, when the Cleaner comes.

I’m…not sure exactly how this all works, so we’ll handwave all this. Basically, each walks away thinking the other is dead, and can credibly believe this without a body.

I think probably Kallus saw Zeb go over a cliff or something after getting shot, and Zeb found a whole heck of a lot of blood when he climbed back up to where he’d fallen from, and figured it was Alex’s.

Ooooh, better idea--while he’s climbing back up to help Alex--he thinks this attack has to do with him. With that last investigation, which was actually into some kind of Hinky thing that was either Division or Gogol…

And now the building is on fire. And Alex was still in there.

He tries to run in, but the building is too unstable, and the entrance collapses in front of him. Burying Alex--or whatever’s left of him--completely.

Kanan finds Zeb kneeling in front of the rubble, and takes him home.

He and Hera patch Zeb up, and basically explain what they do--which is something to do with trying to uncover groups like Division; essentially terrorist/assassination/murder-for-hire organizations that operate under a thin veneer of government officiality.

“Modern-day privateers,” Hera says. “Only we’re not at war, and these people commit atrocities at least as awful as the ones they’re supposedly trying to avert.”

“We work in secret,” Kanan adds. “Because when we try to work out in the open…”

(Yeah, this is how Depa died in this AU. She started this operation, possibly with Cham Syndulla, and things went Badly.)

“We think you caught on to the operations of one of the groups we’re trying to identify,” Hera said. “We don’t have a name for them, but they’re US-based, with ties all over the world.”

“Most of…most of what I had on ‘em was in the house,” Zeb says.

“So, we start again,” Kanan says.

“But…at this point, Zeb, you’re legally dead,” Hera says. “We all are. You won’t have the access to intel that you used to.”

“I don’t care,” Zeb says. They killed my fiancé. What does it matter if they killed me, too? “I wanna bring them down.”

Kanan smiles, and offers him a hand. “Welcome to the Ghost Crew.”

So, for the next two years or so, the Ghost Crew, along with Zeb, does more or less the same thing Kallus has been doing--try to suss out Division operations and interfere with them as best they can.

Of course, they don’t have insider information.

They don’t even know the name of the organization they’re hunting.

Plus, Division isn’t their only target, even if it’s the one Zeb’s most interested in. They also interfere with Gogol when they catch on to their missions, and a few other organizations throughout the world.

So there’s only so much they can do, and while they are certainly a nuisance to Pryce et al, they don’t have the same level of impact that Kallus does when he comes out swinging.

Naturally, things shift a little when a mission goes slightly less than as planned.

It’s mostly under control--it was primarily surveillance at that point; Zeb was in a restaurant scoping out their target. Unfortunately, one of said target’s bodyguards ID’d him; maybe not specifically as Ghost Crew but certainly as a Threat to their principal.

That’s about when the shooting started.

Zeb can’t get to the front door; the bodyguards now actively trying to both kill him and extract their principal are in his way; so he heads for the kitchen instead.

Yeah, he could try to pursue and complete his objective, except it was a capture mission, not a kill, and he can’t get through that many guards and get out with the target. Not by himself.

He yells at the staff to get down and stay down, and most of them listen. There’s a couple of cooks, a waiter who was grabbing a couple plates to run out, and a kid washing dishes.

Of course, Zeb loses his footing somewhere along the line and skids. He recovers fast, but the closest guy chasing him did not have that problem and is too damn close for--

--or Bad Guy could get smacked in the face with a soapy cast-iron skillet, courtesy of Dish Washing Kid.

Split second to consider the consequences, but there are two other shooters in pursuit; so Zeb does the sensible thing and grabs the kid so she doesn’t get hurt, and finally makes it to the exit. Steals the first convenient car he sees, and books it.

Once he’s pretty sure they’ve lost pursuit, he turns to the kid, who’s--shit, he’s not good at guessing kids’ ages. Maybe twelve? Shit--anyway, an actual kid, which complicates things.

“Uh. Sorry about back there,” he says. “Listen, I’ll take you back to your parents in a couple hours, after the heat’s died down, I promise.” Pretty sure the bad guys aren’t gonna hunt you down if they couldn’t grab you right then and there…

“Foster parents,” she corrects. “They’re okay, I guess, but it’s not like they actually pay attention to me. They own the restaurant.”

“I should still get you back to them,” he says. “Better for you in the long run, kid.”

“Hanny,” she says. “My name’s Hanny.” She looks at him expectantly, but he doesn’t respond in kind.

“Right,” he says instead. “In the meantime, uh…” He pulls off--they need to switch cars anyway--and takes a second to text Hera.

“So I accidentally kidnapped someone.”

“…accidentally.”

“Yeah, there was shooting, had to run through the kitchen, she hit a guy with a frying pan, couldn’t leave her there.”

“Right,” she responds, after a few seconds where he can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “How much of a fuss is she making?”

“Uh. None at all, actually.”

“All right. Bring her here, we’ll figure out how to handle this later.”

“Thanks, I owe you another one.”

He gets Hanny back to the safehouse he and the Ghost Crew are currently using.

Hera glowers at him for a minute, then makes sure Hanny is settled in an inner room before going out to have A Word.

“Zeb? That’s a child. An actual child.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zeb says. “Still couldn’t exactly leave her there. I’ll take her back to her parents…well, foster parents…”

“Our rule is, we don’t hurt kids!” Hera says.

“Does she look hurt?” Zeb says. “Look, this wasn’t my fault. I went through the kitchen, she got involved all on her own. Not like I told her to bash the guy over the head with a skillet!”

“I know,” Hera says, and takes a breath. “I know, sorry. I shouldn’t’ve snapped at you. But you need to take her back sooner than later. Tonight, if you can.”

Zeb nods. “Uh. Soon as I get her to actually tell me who her parents are. She said they own the restaurant, but…”

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to go back there.” She considers a minute. “I’ll see what I can dig up, get you an address.”

“Good,” he says.

“Why can’t I stay here?” Hanny asks, from the door.

“…because you’ve got parents--”

“Foster parents.”

“Who are probably worried about you,” he finishes.

Hanny snorts. “No, they’re not. They’ve got six of us, and mostly use the money they get from the state to keep their shitty restaurant afloat. They won’t miss me.”

“That’s a shitty situation, I get it,” Zeb says. “It’s still better than staying here.”

“Why?” she demands.

“Because I’m legally dead, for one thing,” he says.

“But you’re not actually dead,” she points out.

“I also do a lot of really dangerous things,” he says. “What you saw in that kitchen back there? Ordinary Tuesday for me.” Which is, yeah, a bit of an exaggeration, but…

She rolls her eyes. “Not like I’m asking to come into another shootout with you. Just stay with you instead of the Smiths.”

“Why do you want to stay with him?” Hera cuts in. “And ‘because he’s not the Smiths’ isn’t a good enough answer.”

Hanny chews that over for a minute. “I like him,” she says. “He actually gives a damn about something other than his stupid restaurant, or self-image, or whatever. And he apologized for kidnapping me, which is sort of weird, but nice, I guess? I don’t know, I just do.”

“…that whole bit about doing dangerous things,” Zeb says. “I can’t really look after you.”

She rolls her eyes again. “I’ve been looking after myself for ages anyway. Besides. I’m seventeen.”

He and Hera stare at her.

“…would you believe fifteen?”

Zeb’s less sure about that one, but the look on Hera’s face is answer enough.

“Okay, thirteen, but still. Plus, I cook. I’m really good at it, too. Especially when I have access to decent knives. I’m guessing that’s not a problem here?”

Well, okay, it’s not like they have a lot of kitchen knives floating around, but he could--

…shit.

Zeb turns to Hera. “…sorta running out of counter-arguments here…”

Hera looks from him, to Hanny, and back again. “…fine. I’ll babysit when you’re out in the field.”

Jumping back to the present!

So, Zeb doesn’t actually spot Kallus at this point.

Or, rather, he sees that another party is involved, and does out of the corner of his eye spot the guy going down and then Division agents running at him, but not enough to actually identify him.

He alerts his team to the presence of the Third Party--who they’ve been aware of, since Kallus and his team went active a few months ago.

(It was Sabine’s idea to nickname the team Fulcrum. Since they seem to be a pressure point that really gets to the Shadow Agency they’re chasing, and might be enough pressure to move the lever and make actual progress…)

(Look, it made sense in her head at the time, whether or not the others bought the reasoning, and it stuck.)

Of course, they’re not sure if Team Fulcrum is actually on their side, or just looking to cause Generalized Chaos. Or take Shadow Agency down to take its place. After all, they seem to have an almost personal vendetta against the Shadow Agency and some of the tactics they’ve used…

Ezra and Kanan slip around to the Fulcrum van, and find Orryn inside. They see this sweet kid, assume he’s a hostage, and extract him. There’s no way their team will get through the firefight between Division, Mirah, and the reinforcements intact, so Kanan calls Zeb back, they get Orryn into their vehicle, and they go.

They get Orryn back to their base, and he makes it Very Clear that he was not, in fact, a hostage.

“The people that had you in that van--”

“Were not Division,” he says. “They’re the ones who rescued me from Division, after I was recruited.”

“…I’m sorry,” Hera says. “We made a mistake. Division--they’re the government agents who were attacking that building back there?”

Orryn blinks. “…you didn’t know that?”

“We’ve never had a name for them,” Kanan says. “Maybe we should start from the beginning. I’m Kanan, this is Ezra, Hera, Zeb, Sabine.”

“Orryn,” he says. “…you’re trying to bring Division down, too?”

“Damn right we are,” Zeb says.

“…okay,” he says, and fills them in on what he knows.

Which is, comparatively, not all that much. He didn’t see too much of the internal structure--he wasn’t there for long enough--but they have names and so on to attach to them.

He tells them how Division recruits people in their late teens/early twenties, and trains them as assassins. He tells them how Mirah went in as a double agent, and she and Shamie and Kallus broke him out. He tells them how they tried to get him into hiding, but he offered to stay and help with their tech, which is what led them here.

(He doesn’t, of course, know Kallus’s real/full name--not something shared readily; and even if it was, that might not be the full name Zeb knew him under, so Zeb remains in the dark.)

(Part of why Orryn’s being so open about this is because he’s gotten a pretty good idea of the kind of team Hera and Kanan are running here; he also…it’s something to focus on other than the Very Strong Probability that Kallus is dead, likely Mirah with him, and Shamie, and…)

(On the other hand, if his new family is somehow still alive, they could use all the help they can get. And maybe Kallus would’ve been more cautious, and Mirah would’ve been more suspicious, and Shamie would’ve held back a little more, but Orryn knows how hard this fight will be, and how much they need genuine allies. And so he makes the first move/takes a leap of faith.)

So, to sum up the last few sections before we move on, here’s where we stand after the FUBAR mission where Kallus finds out Zeb is still alive:

Kallus has been badly hurt--near-fatally--and is more or less out of commission for the foreseeable future; not to mention whatever long-term/permanent damage he might have sustained.

Mirah’s cover is blown, and while she pulled herself together after her meltdown once Kallus was safe, she’s still teetering a little on the edge, especially as more and more time goes by without hearing from either of her siblings.

Shamie is fighting desperately to maintain their cover, still deep in Division, but now with little to no support.

Orryn is with Zeb and the Ghost Crew, with no idea if any of his family is still alive, and missing a few Key Pieces of Information that might help smooth things over.

(Yeah, this day went Super Well for everyone.)

After a couple days, though, a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel--Kallus wakes up.

Okay, technically, he’s sort of half-woken up a couple times, but this is the first time he’s been lucid enough to actually process being awake and/or interact with Mirah.

She sees him trying to sit up and is instantly there.

“Stay down, you’re hurt.”

He sinks back without too much argument, and she takes a second to make sure he’s really awake, really back with her, and then, as people with her particular personality and background are likely to do, covers up her fear with “How dare you.”

“Mirah…”

“You got yourself shot! You froze!”

“I know, I--”

And then the look on her face, she’s clearly just barely holding back from bursting into tears (which, she’s done enough of that over the past three days damn it) and he just…wordlessly holds out his arms, offering a hug.

Very, very carefully, she curls up next to him and clings, and she does burst into tears at that point, and stays there until she’s cried herself out.

“…sorry,” she says, when she gets her breath back.

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “And…so am I. For scaring you.”

She nods. “I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

He laughs a little, which is a mistake, because that hurts, but manages to get out, “when I get shot on purpose, it’s generally not this…bad.”

“I know,” she says, then hesitates before blurting out, “Iloveyou.”

He’s taken a little bit by surprise--he was her handler as much as her friend, and that’s not exactly conducive to…but he can’t deny that he’s come to think of her as a favorite niece, or maybe even a daughter, and…

Between being caught off guard, and the pain, and the bloodloss, and the drugs she’s probably got him on, he can’t find the words to respond.

So, of course, she tries to backtrack.

He cuts her off, “love you, too, Mirochka.”

(LOOK fandom has decided he’s a Space Russian ANYWAY so for this AU either one or both of his parents was a first-generation Russian immigrant so FAKE RUSSIAN DIMINUTIVES FOR EVERYONE. Also it makes me smile. So there.)

She brightens and clings again. Very, very carefully.

But he can already feel the room start to spin and blur at the edges. “Probably gonna pass out again. Don’t be afraid.”

“Okay,” she says. “Just don’t die.”

“Of course not,” he says, already fading. “Still have work to do.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not allowed to die when we’re done, either.”

“Right,” he manages to say, before he’s out again.

The next time he’s fully conscious and lucid is just after Shamie finally managed to send word they’re alive.

Which is, naturally, his first thought. To ask about Shamie and Orryn.

Mirah tells him--Shamie’s at least alive and free enough to make contact, but Orryn is still missing.

Kallus, at this point, is half-convinced he hallucinated Zeb--it would make more sense, obviously; Zeb is dead, he knows that, he saw him die, and yet…

On the other hand, he finds himself desperately hoping it wasn’t a hallucination, for more than just his personal needs. If Zeb has Orryn, then he knows Orryn is safe.

“I tried to get him,” Mirah says.

“I know,” he says. “It wasn’t your fault. None of this was.” It was mine.

“What happened?” she asks, and the question had to come sometime, but he’s not sure he can explain. Not sure he should, as on-edge as she is already.

But she’s asking, so he does the best he can.

“I thought I saw…someone,” he says.

“…interesting pause there…”

“A ghost.”

“…cryptic. Are you gonna keep doing that, or…?”

He looks away. He can’t bring himself to say his name. “It couldn’t have been…I know it couldn’t have been, but I saw him, I was sure, and for a moment, I…I lost control. Again.”

I let you all down.

“…again?”

He struggles for a moment, then says, “I told you, before you went into Division…I told you why I left, didn’t I?”

It takes her a minute to get it. “…oh.”

“I only…I only saw him for a moment, and I may have been seeing things.” He takes a shallow, shaky breath, and blinks rapidly for a moment. “But if it was real, and Orryn’s with him, then he’s safe. I am certain of that.”

Mirah nods. “Then I’ll go find out.”

“Be careful,” Kallus cautions. “Division will be out in force, looking for you. And Shamie can’t--they have to keep their head down. Even if they’ve managed to satisfy Thrawn for now--” He starts to get up, because he needs to hit the ground running on this one, pain and shakiness be damned--

“Don’t you dare,” Mirah snaps, pushing him back. “I’ll be careful. Trust me. Papa.”

“I do,” he says; his head is spinning again and he’s gone chalk-white. “Just…don’t get overconfident.”

“I won’t,” she promises. “Go back to sleep. I’ll text every hour.”

“Please,” he says.

“I will,” she promises, and by the time she’s out the door he’s unconscious again.

Of course, by the time she gets back, he’s somehow managed to muster the strength to get himself over to the computer.

“What did I say?” she says, annoyed.

“I did sleep, for a while,” he says. A little breathless, but he’s still conscious, and it doesn’t look like he’s torn any of his stitches, which is probably a goddamn miracle.

(Of course, they are long overdue a miracle or two.)

“I found footage of the incident,” he says. “Target had security cameras all over. I wanted to see if…see if I could track Orryn that way.”

“And?”

He shakes his head. “But I can be sure Division didn’t take him. I accounted for all of them.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes,” he says, then hesitates. “Nothing more from Shamie, which…I don’t know. You find anything?”

“Maybe,” she says, and hands him a blurry photo, of Orryn--with Zeb.

The world spins around him again, just like it did back in that firefight, because there’s no mistaking it this time.

Mirah mistakes his reaction for him being about to pass out again; he vaguely hears her mention going to kidnap Dr. Sloane again; he cuts her off.

“No, it’s…it’s him.”

“Oh!” She considers for a moment. “Good. I’ll go get him.”

He nods; he can feel his heart beating erratically and knows he should probably do something about that--relaxation exercise, get horizontal, something--but first thing’s first. “Tell…no.” He can’t think of a good verbal code, but he has something even better.

Using the chair to hold himself up and keeping as much weight off his injured leg as possible, he starts over to the wall.

“Let me--” Mirah starts.

“Wall safe,” he says. “Keep forgetting to program your fingerprints.”

She makes a face. “And you’ll go to bed as soon as you get whatever it is?”

“Yes, fine,” he says. He makes it to the safe, and opens it, pulling out a fist-sized stone and handing it to her. “Show…show him this. He’ll know you’ve seen me.”

“I will. Now, bed.”

“Right,” he says. But his head is spinning and it seems so very far away right now. I possibly overdid it. “I’m just going to…sit here for a moment first. Catch my breath.”

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I know.”

There is, of course, a slight problem with sending the meteorite instead of some kind of verbal message. One that, if Kallus had been firing on all cylinders, so to speak, he would’ve figured out.

A verbal message can’t be pulled off a dead body, after all.

…yeah, Zeb pulls a gun on Mirah when she shows up.

She restrains herself from responding the way all her training has told her to respond to a gun in her face, because she knows how important Zeb is to Kallus. “Rude,” she says instead.

Zeb snarls at her. “Where the hell did you get that.”

“From Papa,” Mirah says, like it should be obvious. “Are you going to let me in?”

Papa? Zeb had never imagined the monsters that killed Alexsandr--who did the kind of things Orryn described--would have children. “…no,” he says. “You’re going to take me to Papa.”

It’s the best, most solid lead he’s had in forever, more concrete than Orryn in terms of tracing back to the specific people who killed his fiancé, he finally has an actual agent, a string to pull to unravel Division and end them.

“Well, yeah,” Mirah says, because that is the plan. But not right now.”

Zeb glares at her. “No. Now.”

Mirah sighs. “ORRYN!”

Orryn, who heard the commotion and was already on his way, joins Zeb at the door. “She’s okay, Zeb. Really. This is Mirah, I told you about her?”

Zeb is…not at all sure what to make of all this. But he lets her in while he tries to figure it out.

(Keeping her covered with the gun, of course. As much as he can when the first thing she does is wrap Orryn in a flying tackle hug.)

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Orryn says, clinging back so hard. “I was worried.”

“You were worried!” Mirah says. “You know what you’re supposed to do in a firefight! Keep your head down, and wait for Papa to come get you!”

“I know,” Orryn says. “But I saw him go down, and then…” I got grabbed, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.

Mirah nods. “I already yelled at him about that.”

Which is not what Orryn would’ve done, but he knows his sister, so he’s not surprised. “And…and Shamie, are they with you? Are they okay?”

“They’re alive,” Mirah says. “They got in touch. But they’re still undercover. We’re working on it.”

“Touching as this reunion is,” Zeb interrupts, “you need to tell me where the hell you got that rock.”

“I already told you.”

“Not enough.”

“Well, then ask,” Mirah says. “I don’t know what you know.”

“Who the hell is Papa, and how the hell did he get that meteorite?” Zeb asks.

“No idea where he got it,” she says, which is true. “He just told me to give it to you.”

Zeb stares at her, for a long moment. “What the hell kind of sick joke--”

“What?” Mirah says. “Explain, because I have no idea what the hell you mean.”

“He’s taunting me,” Zeb says, flatly. “Whoever he is.” ...on the other hand, that means I’m close…or they know I have Orryn. He frowns, then shakes his head. “But to use this to lure me out…”

Now it’s her turn to stare. “Lure you? You’re the one who demanded I take you places!”

“Because you turn up, out of the blue, on my damn doorstep, holding that!”

“Because Papa told me to!” she says. “What’s so important about it, anyway?!”

“It’s something I gave to--” He stops. “Your people, Division, they took it off him after they killed him. I’ve spent the last five years trying to track down the bastards who did it.”

And SUDDENLY EVERYTHING IS CLEAR.

“You didn’t see him,” Mirah realizes.

“…what.”

“Okay,” she says. “We can go see Papa now. But leave your gun behind, he’s been shot enough this week.”

“No, seriously, what the hell,” Zeb says. “Saw who?”

“Papa,” she says. Obviously.

“You still haven’t told me who that is!”

“Because I love him, but he’s sometimes a secretive jerk and I don’t know his full name and that’s embarrassing, okay?”

Zeb just stares at her for a moment.

Mirah sighs, exasperated. “Orryn, do you know Papa’s full name? I don’t have any pictures, and I don’t want to wake him up by calling.”

Orryn shakes his head. “Never had that much access to Division’s computers, and you know he doesn’t talk about that stuff. …Shamie might know, but…”

“I’ll text,” she decides. “They won’t get it until it’s safe.”

“Like hell I’m waiting for that,” Zeb says. “Take me to him. Now.” “First, leave the gun behind,” Mirah says, and there is No Room For Argument in her face or her tone.

Zeb considers this for a moment.

He’s dealing with one guy who’s apparently been shot all to hell, and one baby agent…he’s got the raw physical strength to overpower her if it comes to that. Besides, she didn’t say anything about other weapons.

“Fine,” he says, and ostentatiously puts both the gun he already had out and the backup from his boot on the table.

“Thank you,” she says. “Orryn, you coming?”

Orryn hesitates for a second. “…someone should probably stay with Hanny.”

“Who’s Hanny?”

“My kid,” Zeb says. “…kinda. Long story. Can we go?”

“Sure,” Mirah says. “Hanny can come, too.”

“Hell no,” Zeb says. “I don’t bring her into potential danger if I can avoid it.”

“If you say so,” Mirah says. “Just a suggestion.”

So, Orryn and Hanny stay back at Zeb’s place. Mirah texts Kallus to let him know they’re coming.

He. Uh. Wakes up on the floor by the wall safe when his phone buzzes. Never quite made it back to bed…oops.

Part of him thinks he should probably correct that, but on the other hand, standing up sounds like Work right now. He’ll just…wait here. Gather his strength.

Oh, right, I should text back. “Fine, see you soon.”

As they approach, Mirah once again warns Zeb that Kallus has been shot, so he is not allowed to get him worked up or let him out of bed.

“Yeah, you mentioned.”

“It bears repeating,” she says. “And he is not allowed to die.”

“Copy that,” Zeb says, though he makes no promises. Whoever Papa is, he had Alexsandr’s meteorite, which means he Knows Something about the people who killed him.

She opens the door to the safehouse. “PAPA YOU HAD BETTER BE IN BED.”

…well, at least he hasn’t moved from where she left him last?

Mirah gives him her best Aggrieved and Disappointed Face.

“…I think I fell asleep here,” he says, wearily.

And then Zeb has a Moment.

Because he couldn’t quite see Mirah’s papa from this angle.

But he knows that voice.

“Did I or did I not tell you to go back to bed,” Mirah says, but she knows it’s gonna be a lost cause for at least a few minutes. “…I’ll lecture you later.”

“Alex?” Zeb says. Whispers. It takes him a few seconds to actually get the name out and it comes out strangled and disbelieving.

And even though he already knew Zeb was alive, he’d seen him in person and then the picture, something about it…he’s here now, it’s real--

Fortunately, before Alex can try to get up, Zeb is right there.

“You were…you were dead, I thought--”

For his part, Kallus cannot form words right now. He just reaches up, hand shaking, to touch Zeb’s face.

(Mirah, in the background, discreetly texts her siblings with an update.)

(Orryn, upon reading the text, asks Hanny if she’s ever seen The Parent Trap.)

(“Because I think your spy dad and my spy dad used to be together. Wanna go join them?”)

(Hanny doesn’t need to be asked twice.)

Zeb, at that point, just scoops Kallus up and, very gently, puts him back in the bed.

“Oh, good,” Mirah says. “Now we need to keep him there.”

“No arguments here,” Zeb says.

And this had better not be a dream, he adds, in the privacy of his own mind.

Of course, there’s a lot more catching up to do from there, and a creepy organization of spysassins to take down, but I think we got enough here for one outline, lol. XD Future developments, of course, involve Team Fulcrum (who keep the nickname because Why Not) teaming up with the Ghost Crew to actually take down Division and shoot Pryce in the face; getting Shamie’s kill switch removed; and then…whatever adventures the Family of Spies might have in the future. Maybe head down to Miami, run into another team of former spies. Or up to Boston, run across a team of thieves…

The point is, they’ve found each other again. The rest…well, the rest is just Details.

#shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes crossovers #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #au outlines for the win #tigerkat24

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writinginstardust · 6 years ago

Text

Pining For A Prince | Part 1

Pairing: Keith x Lance

Warnings: little bit of language

A/N: So I saw this adorable Disneyland AU by @caelestee a couple of weeks ago and was obsessed with the idea of this AU so I decided I needed to write it. It’s the first Klance thing I’ve ever written but it’s also one of my favourite things I’ve ever written so 🤷‍♀️ It’s primarily Klance but there’s some background Romellura, Hunay and Adashi too. I don’t know how long this is going to end up being and how long it’s going to take to update every time but it will be finished eventually so I hope you stick with it if you enjoy it!

Word Count: 2663

Keith wiped the excess sweat from his brow as the little girl and her family walked away. He was boiling alive in the early-afternoon Californian sun but seeing the smiles he put on the faces of the little kids who came up to him made it all worth it. Contrary to popular belief, Keith actually wasn't as shy or brooding as most people assumed, he just naturally gave off a loner vibe in everyday life. He was great with kids and he loved being able to make others smile, his job at disneyland was a dream.

A soft gasp met his ears and he turned towards the sound, finding a young girl with bright red hair tugging on her mother's arm not far away.

“Mummy! Mummy! It's Prince Eric, I have to meet him!”

“Okay darling, go ahead.” The girl squealed with delight and ran towards him as her mother followed at a more leisurely pace.

“Ariel! Could it be? I've been looking everywhere for you!” Keith expertly feigned his character's surprise and joy at seeing ‘his princess’, his reaction making her giggle, the sound purer than anything he'd ever heard.

“Noo-o-ooo-oo,” her laughter broke up the drawn-out sound into more syllables than it should have been as she shook her head, “I'm not Ariel, she's my favourite princess though!” Keith gave her a thoughtful look as he crouched down to her level.

“Are you sure? You look just like her!” The girl giggled and blushed some more. “If you're really not Ariel then what's your name little princess?”

“Esme, but I'm not a princess, Prince Eric.”

“Esme, huh? Well that's kind of a pretty name. Princess Esme, it's an honour to meet you.” He stood and gave her a little bow before crouching down to talk to her again. After a few minutes she was ready to move on.

“Can I get picture please?” She asked before leaving.

“Of course princess!”

The girl's mother took out her phone and Keith posed with the girl for a couple of photos before also signing her autograph book. He promised to tell Ariel all about her before she met her later and the girl walked away with a grin wide enough to split her own face in two.

“Well who knew Mr brooding could be so charming? I may just swoon.” The teasing voice of Matt, or as he was known to park guests - Peter Pan, came from right behind him and he almost jumped out of his skin. He looked around quickly, seeing that the immediate area was mostly clear.

“Jesus, Matt! Warn a guy next time.”

“I'd say sorry if I was.”

“I appreciate that. And obviously I can be charming, I had to be to get the job. It remains a mystery how a menace like you managed to get cast though.” He smirked at his friend who just shrugged and grinned back as they both headed towards a cast member-only area for a break.

“Why do you think I got Peter Pan?”

“How's it going with your sister as your new Tink?”

“She's doing good so far, definitely has the mischievous persona down, and she's warming up to all the meeting and greeting.”

“That's good to hear. Honestly I was surprised when she told us the news, I always thought she hated kids.”

“She doesn't really, she's not a fan of the idea of having them but she's pretty good with them when she tries.” Matt shrugged and grabbed a bottle of water, downing the whole thing before reaching for another as Keith did the same. He almost choked on it a second later as a voice he'd recognise anywhere reached him.

“Keith! Matt! What's up guys?” Lance. Neither he nor Matt could reply immediately, Keith too busy choking and Matt laughing at him. “You okay buddy?” Lance came over to him and clapped a hand between his shoulders in an attempt to help.

“Yeah...I'm good.” He managed to splutter out and Matt finally managed to stop laughing.

“Great. Well, I've gotta get back out there, Allura's waiting on me. I'll see you both before the parade!” Lance disappeared almost as quickly as he'd arrived and Keith was left staring at the space he'd occupied just moments ago. His brain struggled to catch up with the swiftness of the interaction as it continued to fixate on where Lance's hand had rested on his back.

“If you don't stop with the dewy-eyed schoolgirl look in the next five seconds I'm telling everyone about your crush on Lance.” Matt threatened after spending a good 30 seconds waiting for Keith to snap out of it. The threat had the desired effect and Keith whipped his head round with a glare so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.

“I will kill you if you even think about it, Holt.”

“I'd like to see you try.” It was an empty challenge, they both knew Keith would easily beat Matt in a fight but they also knew Keith would never hurt a friend. “But seriously, you should ask him out anyway.”

“Not unless you stop making heart eyes at the girl from the gift shop and actually talk to her.”

“Hey! I'll make a move eventually.”

“We all know that's not true, Matt.” A new voice joined their conversation.

“Shut up Shiro, you don't get to judge when it took you 3 years to ask Adam on a date.”

“Touché. You're still hopeless though.” He grinned as Matt scowled and Keith gave him a high five, glad to have someone on his side.

“Not as hopeless as your brother - the Prince of pining.”

“True, it must run in the family.” Keith shot his brother a betrayed look.

“Et tu, Brute?”

“Keith, you've had this crush on Lance since your sophomore year and you barely ever even talk to the guy, you brought the teasing on yourself.”

“Don't you have work to be doing?” Keith's voice was almost a growl, siblings really were the worst sometimes.

“Nope, I'm on a break. I've got a full 20 minutes to irritate my little brother.” He grinned the kind of grin which strikes pure fear into the heart of a younger sibling for it promises the kind of mischief and evil only an older sibling has the power to rain down on them. Keith, all too aware of the depths to which he and Shiro would go, wisely decided to make a swift exit at the sight of it. Yeah, he still had about 10 minutes of his break left but he decided just to take some extra time before the parade. No way was he going to suffer through Shiro's teasing if there was another choice.

“Well in that case I'm going back out. See you later guys.”

“Later Keith!” Matt called after him as he practically jogged away.

“You can't escape this forever Keith! I'm going to tease the shit out of you back home!” Shiro's not-quite-farewell earned him the middle finger from Keith and his answering laugh seemed to follow Keith even after he was well out of earshot. Brothers really were hell.

An hour after his brief encounter with Keith, Lance's hand was still tingling as if some of Keith's very essence still clung to it and the constant reminder was only prolonging his internal freak out. He spun Allura with practiced grace as they performed together for a small crowd in New Orleans Square but even the feeling of her hand in his couldn't rid him of the memory of how it had felt to touch Keith.

Finally their dance came to an end and Lance spent a few minutes talking to the kids and taking photos alongside Allura before they headed off to get ready for the afternoon parade. He couldn't keep the grin off his face or the spring from his step as they walked over to where the rest of the cast members gathered, so excited to get to see Keith again. However briefly that may be. The boy was beautiful, Lance was unafraid the admit that, especially in his Prince get-up, and even just a glimpse of his smile could make Lance's heartbeat go wild.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when he'd started developing a crush, certainly it was back in high school sometime. Back when Keith had been little more than a brooding shadow at the back of his classes, an enigma that Lance had spent far too much time trying to figure out instead of focusing on his studies. Knowing it was hopeless though, he'd buried that crush deep down for a long time and moved on, that was, until they'd both gotten cast as princes at Disneyland and Lance had found himself falling all over again.

It had been a shock, if he was honest, that not only had Keith auditioned (Keith! brooding, slightly menacing Keith wanted a job at Disneyland!), but he'd actually got the job. Knowing what the job entailed meant re-evaluating everything he'd thought he knew about Keith and, with this new perspective on the guy, Lance knew he was screwed. And that was before he'd seen him in costume!

“Someone's excited to see his Prince Charming it seems.” Allura's smirk was clear in her voice and Lance didn't even bother to turn his head to see it.

“He's Prince Eric, not Prince Charming. Wrong movie Allura.” He replied without thinking and it took a few seconds for him to realise his mistake. “Shit.”

He could feel the triumph radiating from the girl beside him and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up right there. Allura loved nothing more than to tease him and he'd just handed her all the ammunition she needed to make his life hell for at least a couple of months.

“Oh my god! You finally admitted it Lance! I finally got you!” She bounced along beside him and clapped gleefully. “Oh this is perfect!”

“Allura, I swear if you breathe a word to anyone else I will stop helping you with Romelle.” He didn't particularly like having to use that threat, he wanted Allura and Romelle to get together as much as anyone, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She pouted at that but agreed.

“Fine, I won't say anything but nothing you can do is going to stop the teasing. And I am sooo helping you get him, it's now my mission in life.”

“You're a nightmare.” He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation but his voice was fond.

“Yep, but that's why you love me...almost as much as you love Keith.” She grinned and ran ahead to join the rest of their friends before Lance had a chance to retaliate and he sighed once again before walking over at a more leisurely pace.

“Lance!” Matt and Pidge yelled in sync, identical mischievous smiles on both their faces as they waved him over. He didn't trust those smiles one bit.

“Hey guys, how's it going?” He asked, somehow managing to keep his suspicion out of his voice and off his face.

“Oh same as ever, just now with the added entertainment from my darling sister.” Matt pulled said sister into a side hug which looked to be crushing the smaller girl.

“Fuck off Matt.”

“Language Pidgey! This is Disney, no swearing allowed!” Lance gave her the disappointed parent look and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You can fuck off as well.” The two boys just sighed.

“You really are a delight to be around you know?”

“I try.” Her smile was falsely sweet as she batted her eyelashes before something behind Lance caught her eye. He watched with growing dread as that smile turned downright wicked and spun around to see what caused it. His stomach dropped as he saw Keith and Ezor a few feet away, deep in conversation, whatever Pidge had in mind was not going to end well for him.

“Keith! Dude come over here!” Keith looked over at the shout and Lance saw his face twisting with some sort of emotion he couldn't decipher as he saw the three of them. Ezor, however, looked knowingly between them and smirked before dragging over a reluctant Keith.

“Fancy seeing you here,” She said by way of greeting, still with that oddly knowing look.

“Considering it's their job as well as ours, that shouldn't be so surprising.” Keith helpfully pointed out.

“You're no fun.”

“Leave him alone, it's not his fault he's intrinsically grumpy.” Pidge finally managed to extract herself from Matt's hug in time to properly tease Keith.

“I hate all of you.”

“Liar.”

“Pidge, if you called me over just to be mean then I'm going. Maybe the princesses will be better company.” Lance felt himself wilt slightly at the prospect of Keith going, the break before the parade was one of the few times in the day he had a chance to have a proper conversation with him. Even when he could hardly manage to say a word, he could at least be in his presence and sometimes that was enough.

“Y'know, I expect they would be. YO ALLURA!” The heads of all the girls whipped around at the yell. “Bring your princess troupe over here, these guys are boring.”

“Coming!” She, Nadia, Romelle, Shay, and Nyma came to join them though the rest of the princesses elected not to, they'd never really gotten comfortable in this particular group of friends.

“What's up?” Nadia greeted them and Lance zoned out the conversation for a bit. Keith had shuffled closer to him to make room for the girls and he became uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating from him even through the heat of the day. He spent most of the next 10 minutes sneaking glances at Keith whenever there was no attention on him. He couldn't help it, whenever he was around him his gaze was drawn to the boy like a magnet and he was long passed trying to resist the pull.

“Alright, 5 minutes to show time, everyone in place!” Coran interrupted both Lance’s thoughts and the group’s conversation, all of them heading off to their respective floats. He chanced one last glance at Keith, only to find him already looking at him. Cheeks heating alarmingly, Lance whipped his head back round and boarded his float where Allura was waiting, a falsely innocent smile on her face as she pointedly didn’t look at him. It was a deliberate tactic to irritate him into talking to her and letting her tease him. He knew this but he still asked anyway.

“What’s that smile for.”

“Oh nothing, just planning you and Keith’s wedding, it’s going to be beautiful, a private beach ceremony at sunset, fireworks later, fairy lights everywhere, you two sneaking off to dance and kiss on the beach and under the stars during the reception. Shiro will be Keith’s best man, Hunk yours, your niece will be the cutest flower girl ever and Pidge, Romelle, Veronica and I can be your bridesmaids. You can do the bouquet throw and we'll all let Shay catch it and Hunk will be all flustered as it gives him the courage to finally propose to her. Everyone will be happy crying and we'll all eat too much and drink too much and we'll have the biggest party ever. No one will ever want it to end. It will be even better than Shiro and Adam’s.”

“Shiro hasn’t even proposed yet.”

“I know, but I have their wedding planned already as well. Yours will be better though.”

“I’m not marrying Keith, Allura, it’s just a crush. An unrequited one at that.”

“Sure it-” before she could finish their float started moving and they had to quickly get into character. It was hard for Lance to concentrate with Allura’s teases circling around his brain. He had to admit, she had planned his perfect wedding. Right down to his perfect groom.

#klance #keith x lance #keith #lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #voltron #klance fanfic #voltron fanfic #klance fanfiction #voltron fanfiction #vld fanfic #disneyland AU #I won't tag the other characters but pretty much everyone turns up at some point #klance fluff #Fic - Pining For A Prince

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years ago

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hi! I have a possible canon prompt for you..? I was reading the blue line one shot where everyones drunk & getting tattoos, which is just so fun & entertaining, and it made me picture canon emma & killian getting similarly drunk for whatever reason and probably just being really adorable and cute but also probably annoying the dwarfs (turn the tables since it’s usually the other way around) I don’t even know, maybe snow and charming are involved too cause Henry and Ella minding the kids?? Idek

This also includes first birthday balls (because I got that prompt a couple weeks ago and didn’t do anything with that, sorry anon) and uncomfortable not-quite-royals and scandalized Henry because there should really be more Henry in these family fics. And Elsa and Mulan. Give Elsa a canon girlfriend 2k4ever. Sorry this took forever, anon. The ever-continuing saga of Laura writes canon continues to get more and more ridiculous:

“I honestly cannot breathe.”

Killian’s eyes flash her direction, something that Emma is sure could be the actual, living embodiment of the word mirth in his gaze, but she’s far too focused on maintaining consciousness to be worried about the linguistics of her internal monologue. “It’s got to be almost over, love.”“You say that longingly.”He makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, gaze snapping back to the pomp and circumstance and they’ve been to their fair share of balls and royal events now, what with Emma’s princess’dom and an all-realm that seems obsessed with celebrating even the most menial things, but this is the first time they’ve attended a ball that was in honor of their daughter and, well, it was kind of, honestly, sort of…the worst.

Like. The worst.

Emma’s ribs are never going to recover from whatever her mother promised was the height of Camelot fashion and the linguistics of that sentence are just as absurd as ever. And, really, Emma doesn’t harbor any lingering resentment to the kingdom of Camelot.

She doesn’t. Honestly.

Guinevere has been wonderful and fantastic and Henry and Ella spent two weeks at the castle a month ago, documenting the history of several fantastic and magical items, but Emma’s got memories and dark corners and her brain really can’t function when she’s not getting consistent oxygen to it.

“Why did we agree to this again, though?” Killian asks lightly, leaning back against a column with his hand tracing idle patterns on the small of Emma’s back. A knight of the round table looks positively scandalized.

Do they still have a round table? They might not. She should probably know that. It kind of seems like a weird question to ask though.

Hi, Guinevere, sorry Arthur died, but you were kind of into Lancelot anyway, right and remember that time Arthur killed my husband? Right, right, do you still have knights and would they be interested in signing up for the all-realm police department? Yeah, that’s definitely a weird name for it.

“Swan,” Killian says. He turns on her when she makes a noise, like she’s surprised to see he’s there and dressed in full-scale pirate regalia because they may have been introduced with royal titles, but they’re still them and half the reason they did agree to this was because of the clothes.

Or at least that’s half the reason Emma agreed to it.

“You’re drifting again, love,” he smiles, fingers moving to the curve of her jaw while his hook settles on the jut of her hip and they’re really going to cause a scene.

That happens sometimes at these royal events – Emma’s not used to it and Killian’s kind of uncomfortable and she’s normal, she can’t be expected to not want to make out with her husband when he’s got that much leather on.

That’s just an absurd notion.

Surely the knights of the round table can understand that.

Probably not.

“It’s because I really can’t breathe,” Emma mutters, letting her head fall slightly and the jacket he’s wearing inexplicably smells like the ocean. She assumes that’s some byproduct of magic that she doesn’t actually want to talk about. “And don’t bother making a joke about how I still look good, I really can’t process compliments at this point.”Killian chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair and the actual crown she’s wearing because she’s a princess, and Emma resists the urge to magic them anywhere else. They wouldn’t be able to leave Hope.

She’s the worst royal mother in the history of any of these realms.

“I really don’t think I’d use the word good,” Killian argues. “That’s rather lackluster, all things considered.”“You’re doing it right now.”“Complimenting?”Emma hums, and she feels his laughter before she hears it, which she assumes is also important to their general and continued happiness, but she might have been lying to herself about her lingering resentment towards the entire kingdom of Camelot. “We agreed to this, partially because you’d wear that vest and partially because it’s Hope’s first birthday and we’re supposed to be royal.”“I’m not sure what birthdays have to do with titles, but I do appreciate the first part of that sentence.”“Yeah, I figured you would.”

“You sound rather upset by that fact.”“No, I’m not. I’m just…” Emma sighs, shaking her head and she’s going to ruin her hair. She should have magic’ed her hair. Or invent magical hairspray. People would buy that. And then the knights of the round table wouldn’t be scandalized when her hair inevitably moved out of place after she inevitably started making out with her pirate husband.

Right there in the middle of a goddamn ball to celebrate the first birthday of Her Royal Highness, the princess of Misthaven, Hope Swan-Jones.

Emma had nearly fallen over when they’d used those exact words at the announcing – a term she didn’t actually know was a thing until Elsa whispered in it her ear.

“Aye,” Killian nods, an understanding expression that Emma appreciates because she’s not sure if she could actually explain the rather large maelstrom of feelings in the pit of her stomach. Although she assumes he’d be impressed by the use of the word maelstrom. “It is a little strange to be back here, isn’t it?”“You’re telling me.”

“We could circle back to your thoughts on my apparel, if that would help distract you.”Emma grins, slow and easy and she’s thankful for the wall behind her because she’s suddenly at very real risk of swooning. “First birthday parties are insane,” she mutters. “She’s not going to remember it. This is, possibly, supposed to be for us, but I think it’s more for my mom and diplomatic relations with Camelot.”“Are those being threatened?”“I honestly have no idea. Ask Henry, he’ll probably know.”“Where is the lad? I haven’t seen him since we did whatever that was on the stairs.”“The announcing,” Emma says, appreciating Killian’s very obvious disgust with royal traditions. “Elsa told me. That’s not something I knew off the top of my head.”“Ah, but you’re doing a very good job of looking the part of crown princess, darling.”He leans forward, hair falling dangerously close to his eyes, which really isn’t unfair because then Emma’s thinking about his eyes and how long they could feasibly be gone before anyone noticed they were missing and–

“Aw, c’mon,” Henry groans, appearing as quickly as if he’s the one in the family with teleporting magic. Lucy’s pressed to his side, Ella in a dress of her own that’s probably leaving lasting impressions on her spleen and Emma’s not entirely sure what her entire soul does when she sees her son holding her daughter, but it kind of feels like the fireworks her mother promised would happen at the end of the ball.

A goddamn ball.

For her kid.

“Didn’t this happen enough while I was growing up?” Henry continues, only half bothering to keep his voice down and Emma narrows her eyes. “You guys got to cross realms to do it now?”“Do it,” Killian echoes slowly. Emma hopes the knights don’t hear this part of the conversation. They’ll never be allowed back in Camelot.

That might not be the worst thing in the world.

Henry shrugs, tilting his head like that’s the majority of his argument and it was the same when he was sixteen too. Ella looks incredibly amused. “How come you guys aren’t dancing?” he asks. “You dance. I’ve seen you dance.”Killian twists, presumably to arch an eyebrow and Henry’s expression shifts slightly – like he’s about to get grounded for breaking curfew or lingering on the front porch with Violet for too long that one summer after they, well, defeated all of evil.

Emma needs to sit down.

She needs to get out of this gown.

She needs a drink. Several drinks.

“Is that actually code for something?” Ella asks softly, mostly to Henry, and Emma makes a strangled noise. Killian’s whole body tenses.

Henry chokes on the sudden surplus of air around them, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together and his head shake looks as awkward as this entire moment now feels. Emma keeps mumbling oh my God under her breath. She’s not entirely sure Killian is speaking English.

“What are those words?” Henry asks lightly, something that sounds like laughter clinging to the question. “Those aren’t the usual pirate curses, are they?”“How often were you on the receiving end of pirate curses?” Ella grins. Henry grits his teeth, and they’re attracting a crowd, the quiet tap of heels and quicker tap of different heels and Anna practically squeals when she sees the baby in Henry’s arms.

“Not that much,” Henry promises, but both Killian and Emma click their tongues and Anna squeals again.

“That was impressive,” she yells. “Did you two practice that?”

“Anna, you’ve got to keep your voice down, or we’re going to have a shrieking baby on our hands,” Elsa chastises. Her voice lacks any real sense of threat though, mostly because she looks so incredibly happy and Mulan looks even better and there are already tiny snowflakes floating in the air above Hope’s head.

Emma smiles.

“Right, right, right,” Anna says quickly. “Sorry. I just…it was an impressive show of parental control, you know?”

Henry’s going to do permanent damage to his throat if he keeps choking like that. “Not on purpose,” Emma says evenly. The tips of Killian’s ears go red. “And it wasn’t really that much, but there were a few warranted pirate curses and what was that one thing?”

She glances at Henry, shuffling awkwardly on his feet as he tries to ignore Ella’s curious gaze and Killian’s decidedly paternal stare and Snow White is going to be disappointed none of them are dancing.

“What was the one thing?” Ella prompts, tugging on Henry’s shirtsleeve when he doesn’t answer immediately. “When was the one thing?”Henry shakes his head again.

“Is no one going to tell the story?” Mulan asks, and Emma knows she doesn’t imagine the note of disappointment in her voice.

Killian sighs. “He was sixteen,” he starts, Emma biting her lip so she doesn’t actually start to cackle. “And wanted to learn how to drive.”“Except Mom wasn’t around,” Henry adds. His mouth twitches when he glances at Killian.

“Exactly. Dealing with something from what was it, Swan?”“The Land of Untold Stories, almost always,” Emma answers.

“Of course, of course. So, something with the Land of Untold Stories, but the lad needed to practice driving and I’d gotten fairly good at working the machine–”“–Oh my God, Killian, eventually you can just call it a car,” Henry interrupts, but his jaw clacks shut loudly when he’s met with another vaguely paternal stare and pirate seems to just radiate off Killian in moments like these.

“Zelena let us borrow her automobile,” Killian continues, a rapt audience with wide eyes and a cooing baby and even more snowflakes. “And things were going well, until we started driving towards the town line and the wildlife decided to attack.”“What?” Elsa balks.

“It was diabolical.”“Or so the story goes,” Emma amends. “It was a rabbit. Ran into the road while Henry was driving. He swerved, drove off the road and really did more damage to the tree than anything else. Unless you’re counting Killian’s frayed nerves.”

“We’re not,” Killian intones.“It was enormous, Mom,” Henry promises, the same words she’d heard a few moments after the incident and a frantic phone call and the whole thing still kind of made her laugh because they’d both been incredibly worried about the state of the rabbit.

It had run back into the woods almost immediately.

“I’m sure it was, kid. Monty Python-esque.”“No one ever made claims that large, Swan,” Killian reasons. “But it was rather big and very much in the road and, well….it led to several curses and a variety of words that Henry was told never to repeat again.”

“It was a learning experience,” Henry chuckles.

“Did the Wicked Witch ever find out?” Mulan asks, eyes flitting around like Zelena will descend on them at the mere mention of her name and demand monetary payments for the damage.

Emma shakes her head. “There was, uh…some magic involved. Possibly my magic.”Anna and Elsa make almost identical noises of surprise and something that might just be glee, wide smiles and bright eyes and Hope absolutely loves the sound, tiny hands reaching up for either one of them. They spend a lot of time in Arendelle.

Emma probably wouldn’t hate her dress so much if she were wearing it in Arendelle.

“That is sneaky, Emma,” Anna accuses, but she can’t really argue with it and possibly mumbles something that sounds a bit like pirate under her breath if only to see what happens to Killian’s face. He smiles.

And kisses her hair again.

Henry groans.

“Shall we repeat ourselves, my boy?” Killian asks, but Emma’s mind gets caught on more linguistics and possessive pronouns or something. “It’s not as if you’re entirely unused to it.”“That was a confusing use of double negatives,” Henry says.

“And yet I’m fairly certain you kept up. That all-realm knowledge truly coming into play.”“Ah, that and like…a vast knowledge of pirate curses. What language was that before though, seriously? Mermaid?”“No, that dialect is far too hard to master. It was an old fairy curse, actually.”“Ah, well, yeah, of course.”Killian flashes him a grin – all white teeth and teasing of the parental variety and Emma knows Henry didn’t come over there just to rag on their kissing tendencies. “It’s kind of weird being here, isn’t it?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “I mean…I know Guinevere’s, you know, trying to make everything not weird, but it’s–”

“–Aye, a little weird,” Killian finishes.

“And you guys looked kind…uncomfortable?”Emma winces, but she knows she can’t argue that either and her inability to breathe probably didn’t have much to do with the corset to begin with. Killian knew that. She’s a terrible liar. “We probably would have been cool with a first birthday that included crappy store-bought decorations and like…I don’t know, she really likes Doc McStuffin reruns.”“What is that exactly?” Elsa asks, genuinely curious and Killian shudders like he’s been told he has to watch more fake surgery on cartoon animals.

“Actual torture,” he answers.

Henry’s knees buckle when he laughs, eyes closed and an arm around his waist and it is kind of ridiculous, but they’re also at a ball and Emma’s seriously about to challenge that one knight to a duel and he might just be, like, security and they kind of look like they’re loitering. She wonders if they’ll ever make new Doc McStuffins episodes or if she and Killian are just fated to watch that one where Farmer Mack’s goats start acting strangely on repeat for the rest of their lives.

“Ah, damn now I’ve got the theme song stuck in my head,” Emma complains.

“Torture,” Killian repeats. “Actual torture. She’s not even a medical professional.”“She’s like…five years old,” Henry laughs. The other actual fairy tale characters around them look incredibly confused.

“That’s neither here nor there. Her practice is horribly run.”“Is there someone you can complain to about that?” Anna asks, and Emma has to actually cap her hand over her mouth to stop whatever sound she makes from echoing in the grand ballroom of Camelot’s largest castle.

There were multiple castles to choose from for this ball.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Henry says, waving his hands in an almost valiant attempt to keep this conversation on track. “Strangely enough we did not come over here to talk about you guys cursing in my youth or the car incident or Doc McStuffins.”“Who would have thought it,” Emma mumbles.

“We came over here to offer our babysitting services for one night and because we know it’s weird to be here, you know, after everything and…here.” He reaches into his pocket, a move mirrored by Kristoff who’d been entirely silent until he thrust a flask into the center of their small circle and Elsa twisted her wrist, a tray of actual iced shot glasses balanced on her palm.

“We don’t know the specifics,” Elsa explains. “But Henry filled us in on the…well, they’re mostly just lows here aren’t they?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Emma admits. “Death and darkness will do that to you.”“Right, so we’re going to ignore that entirely and–”“–Drink?” Henry asks, but all of them are already nodding and Lucy’s running back to the other side of the hall to find Regina because, well, that happened at a Camelot ball too and really none of them should have agreed to this.

“You didn’t start without me, did you?” Regina asks, a hand on Henry’s shoulder when she skids to a stop. He shakes his head. “Good, good. Guinevere wanted to discuss trade routes and I thought I was going to have to threaten fireballs if she didn’t stop.”“Diplomacy at its finest,” Emma whispers, working another laugh out of Killian and they haven’t really moved out of each other’s space since the making out got interrupted.

Regina lifts her eyebrows. “Would you like to try it? Camelot’s a landlocked kingdom and they’re greatest export is stone and knights for hire–”“–Are they really called knights? I couldn’t remember.”“I honestly do not know. I think there’s a petition to change it, but that’s so far down my list of things I care about, that I–”“–Do you think we could table the knight discussion for a moment?” Kristoff asks gruffly, and he looks more uncomfortable than the rest of them combined.

Emma nods. “Of course. Uh…happy birthday, Hope.”The small crowd echoes the sentiment, downing shots in magical glasses with an alcohol no one has actually named, but the liquid lands in Emma’s gut and she’s positive it sends a jolt of warmth through her entire system immediately. And she’s not really sure how it happens, but the music starts to fade a little and Killian’s arm never leaves her waist and, at some point, she realizes she’s rather drunk.

They all are.

Except Henry and Ella. Who have to look after kids. Like responsible adults.

“How did this happen?” Emma asks, stumbling forward slightly and both Killian and Elsa try to catch her. She lands on his chest with a not-so-soft thump and she hopes her mother doesn’t see her. This is not princess behavior.

Pirate, maybe.

But certainly not princess.

There are still snowflakes in the air, but they’re starting to look less like snowflakes and more like snowblobs and that thought leaves Emma snickering into Killian’s vest. He kisses the top fo her hair.

“I think that drink is rather potent, Swan,” Killian mumbles. HIs voice is still frustratingly even, but Emma knows he’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol too, eyes glazed slightly and mouth going slack whenever he looks at her, like he forgets what she’s wearing and is struck all over again every time his eyes land on her.

It’s kind of nice, honestly.

“It’s troll’ish,” Elsa says. Her body’s wobbling quite a bit.

“What?” Emma snaps. “Troll. Rock troll.”“Can rock trolls get drunk?”“Not very easily.”

Emma laughs, the sound bubbling out of her like several different and metaphorical springs and Henry keeps muttering in Ella’s ear, quiet smiles and whispers and she resists the urge to point out the whole thing is kind of hypocritical. She presses up on her toes to kiss Killian’s cheek.

“I think it worked better on us than it did on the trolls,” Anna whispers. She doesn’t do a very good job of actually whispering.

“Maybe we should get some air,” Killian suggests. “It’s rather warm in here.”Emma doesn’t think he means to move his hand, but it shifts anyway, drifting down her spine and closer to her hips again “I think you’re drunk,” she says. Henry makes that choking noise again. “Kid, this was honestly your plan.”“Yeah,” he nods. “I didn’t come up with troll alcohol, though.”

“Please don’t use those words in that order again,” Killian mumbles. Henry salutes. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are, lad.”“And you and Mom are drunk at a ball.”“Again, your plan,” Emma repeats. “But, uh, yeah, if we go get some air are you going to tattle on Mom and Dad to me?”“Who are you asking?”

“Don’t tell Snow White and Prince Charming that we snuck out of the castle,” Regina says, and it probably isn’t fair for Henry to be on the receiving end of so much parental authority when he’s very clearly the most responsible adult in this situation.

Henry grins, wrapping an arm around Ella and she’s holding Hope now which is really probably for the best. “Sure thing, Mom. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

They do, in fact, get into plenty of trouble.

And earn a few more pirate curses and Emma almost gets the hang of Mermaid dialect by the end of the night, wincing every time she moves because there was apparently some kind of tattoo master in the city that doesn’t actually have a name outside the castle.

“You know that’s very fantasy,” Emma says, hours later. She’s propped on her side, blankets pooling around her waist and Killian’s eyes aren’t glazed anymore. If anything, they’re somehow even sharper, He keeps staring at her, gaze flickering from her face to her wrist and the ink that she knows, rationally, is dry, but it kind of feels like it’s working its way into her soul or something and they’re going to have a very stern talk with the trolls about the contents of their alcohol.

“What is?” Killian asks. His fingers dance along her side, working a path up her arm towards her hair and the shell of her ear and Emma can’t help but shiver. He grins.

He’s not wearing the vest anymore.

“A generic city outside the castle walls. One without a name, that just gets referred to as city and–”

He cuts her off before she finishes, which is honestly for the best because she forgot her point when her eyes fell to his lips and his own presumably dry ink on matching wrists and Emma had never really gotten the chance to be young and stupid, at least not in some cliche, John Hughes type of way, so she was going to be almost middle aged and very in love with her husband.

He kisses her with something that feels like desperation and matching, drunk tattoos and Emma could hear the fireworks going off when the needle pricked her skin.

She assumes that’s a sign.

Of something.

Like happily ever after or fresh chances and slightly brighter memories.

They fall asleep eventually, smiles still on their faces and limbs tangled together and Emma’s head pounds when the first pinpricks of light filter through the curtains the next morning.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Killian mumbles, mostly into her hair. It’s got a tendency to get everywhere. She never hung up her gown. It’s still in a pile a few feet away, next to Killian’s boots and sword belt. “It’s still early.”

Emma hums, letting her eyes flutter shut again and they’d never really come up with a second part of the plan for picking up their daughter. She’s never really worried when Hope is with Henry though, and she can’t do much more than burrow closer to Killian’s side when his hook wraps around her wrist and Emma knows he’s smiling.

She opens her eyes slowly to find just that, a slight twist of lips and almost palpable happiness and her thumb brushes over the marked skin on his right arm. “Any regrets?” she asks, careful to keep her voice easy, like it isn’t a huge question, but he’s already shaking his head and she knew the answer anyway.

“Not a single one, Swan.”He kisses her again, a quick brush of lips and feeling and he doesn’t wince when her feet collide with his shins because they’re always cold and he’s used to it. That’s nice too. Indefinitely.

They get a few more hours of sleep before there’s a knock on the door and a baby on the other side and Emma takes her gratefully, peppering her stomach with kisses while Killian draws patterns on her arm and Henry grins knowingly when he notices the matching marks on their wrists – a tiny black indefinite symbol and always and something death couldn’t touch.

Emma’s a philosopher when she’s hungover, apparently.

“Good call,” Henry grins. “Grandma wants to eat breakfast as a family.”

“We’ll be right there,” Emma promises, and they’re only a few minutes late, hangovers magic’ed away while they were still in their rooms and it might be the best ball they’ve ever gone to.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan #cs #laura writes canon #i really didn't mean to publish this tonight #typing is difficult ha #well anyway here's some more i guess #anonymous

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louislouisrap · 6 years ago

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long distance (kacchako)

I don’t understand what prioritization means.

I swear to god I’m working on the last part of Black Water but I was so captured by one of ualright’s tweets about Bakugo and Uraraka being in a long distance relationship that I had to crank one (a fic) out.

I have strong feelings about LDRs because I was in one for about two years before I moved to be with my now-husband. Shit sucks but it feels real good when you first see the other person after months or years apart.

In this lil one-shot, these two have been apart for about two months while Uraraka was away on a rescue mission. emjoy <3

Finally, the day was here, and Uraraka was coming home. It had been exactly two months and three days since she’d left--not like Bakugo had been counting down or anything. Or at least, not to begin with. Neither of them had been exactly certain when Uraraka would return from her rescue mission, which had made her departure especially hard.

It had all happened so fast: Breaking news reports began popping up that there had been a devastating earthquake in a small developing nation and the estimated death toll was only going up at an alarming rate. While pro heroes did exist there, the network was small, underfunded, and still new. Many support heroes themselves had been killed in the quake, and seismologists warned that the aftershocks would guarantee even more destruction. The same day the news broke, Japan, along with other nations, had sent aid workers to the small country. Amongst them, some of the best pro heroes they had to offer. Uraraka was one of the first to be contacted; she’d accepted immediately and was on a plane a few hours later.

It had been a solemn goodbye at the airport, with Uraraka trying not to cry but doing so anyway, and Bakugo muttering that she better show up those other foreign pro heroes, to which Uraraka laughed through her tears and said she’d do her best. They’d hugged and kissed until Bakugo insisted she’d miss her plane if she didn’t leave now. He’d watched her with an unreadable expression as she shuffled with the crowd towards the security checkpoint, waiting until she’d vanished from sight.

A tiny part of Bakugo’s mind, which he had silenced aggressively and immediately, feared if she would return at all.

But here they were now, Uraraka on a plane bound for Narita airport, and Bakugo on a train there to meet her. She’d fussed that he didn’t have to take the time to go all the way there, and he argued that she would need someone to help with her luggage so she might as well stop complaining, which she did rather quickly with a smile in her voice.

Bakugo didn’t get excited for much. Or at least, not outwardly excited, but when he did, it was usually in response to situations where he could flex his strength and power, be it against villain or Deku alike. Now he was finding the butterflies in his stomach strange, and he fought to keep his foot from tapping impatiently on the floor of the train as it made its way towards the airport. Too damn slow, he thought, even though he’d made sure he’d be arriving before Uraraka’s flight landed. To keep his mind occupied, Bakugo turned on the plush bench towards the window behind him, propped an elbow up on the sill, and watched the scenery. It was late March when Uraraka left, and she’d lamented that they probably wouldn’t get to see the cherry blossoms together this year. The weather had been cool, and the trees were only just beginning to bud. Now the passing scenery was awash with green and the days were brighter, the sky more blue, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Bakugo would soon be reunited with the person he’d come to, after two years, treasure most in this world.

It was early afternoon and the train car was mostly empty and the sunlight streaming through the windows warmed the air, though Bakugo wished the few passengers scattered around would just leave so he could ruminate in peace. He hated the weird tingling in his gut, the way his hands were sweating in anticipation. He scowled as he rubbed his palms roughly against his jeans, desperately wishing he could be alone to pop off a few small explosions to quell his perspiration. Finally, the automated voice overhead announced that the stop for the airport was next, and Bakugo practically leapt out of his seat to stand in front of the train car doors.

When the train slowed to a stop, Bakugo took a shaky breath, shoved his hands in his pockets, and made his way into the airport. It was a massive place, and Bakugo spent a couple minutes checking the signs hanging from the ceiling to make sure that he was headed in the right direction. He passed by other couples walking hand in hand, families hugging one another, and Bakugo’s heart beat just a little faster in his chest. That was going to be him soon. That would be him and Uraraka. He would finally be able to feel and touch her again. The region she’d been sent to wasn’t necessarily remote, but as it was a developing nation in the midst of an infrastructural crisis, a good internet connection had been hard for Uraraka to come by. Adding in the long days, oftentimes even when she did have a decent signal, she was so exhausted that the most she could muster was a ‘hi’ and ‘I’m doing okay’ or ‘I miss you.’ The lack of communication and, possibly more importantly, physicality had begun to take a toll on them both. Bakugo felt himself practically aching to wrap his arms around her again.

Finally, he reached the wing of international arrivals. It was busy--families, friends, significant others milling around outside the restricted area from where passengers would soon stream out before collecting their luggage. Bakugo pulled his hands out of his jean pockets and stuck them in his jacket pockets instead. He bounced slowly on the balls of his feet and scowled in everyone else’s general direction. A few people, Bakugo noticed out the corner of his eye, were glancing at him and whispering here and there. A small child’s eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped as his mother smiled and tried to capture his attention with a small toy. Normally Bakugo would just ignore the stares, maybe even reluctantly take a photo or sign an autograph for a kid, but now he just wished they would all piss off. The only thing on his mind was Uraraka.

Finally, a few people trickled out into the vestibule, and Bakugo’s heart leapt into his throat. She would be here any minute now. He stayed a respectable distance from the edge of the entrance, so as not to appear too eager, but close enough that Uraraka would be able to spot him immediately.

Bakugo’s heart dropped from his throat into his stomach as soon as he caught sight of her. His brain registered her instantly. The chestnut of her hair, her bright round eyes, the exact height at which his line of sight would pick her up. All of the little things about her over the past two years that had nestled and fit into him like pieces of a puzzle, that he had no power over, yet he welcomed her into his consciousness without a second thought.

Bakugo chewed his bottom lip to keep from breaking into a bigger grin as he took in the sight of her. She looked the same--of course she looks the same, you idiot, it’s only been two months--and yet it was obvious that the trauma of the rescue mission had taken its toll on her. There were faded dark circles under her eyes; her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and her right arm was sporting a square of gauze held in place with medical tape. Small, faded spots of yellow-green bruises speckled her arms and shins, and a long, thin gash that had since scabbed over peeked out from the collar of her shirt. Her hair was pulled messily into a ponytail and her cheeks weren’t quite the radiant pink they usually were, but god she was beautiful.

Uraraka’s tired eyes shone as soon as she saw Bakugo waiting for her in the crowd, and she broke out into a run to meet him, hefting her large duffel bag onto her shoulder as she did. Without a word, Bakugo removed his hands from his pockets, ready to embrace her. He could already see her nose growing pinker, a sure sign that she was about to start crying. Uraraka let the duffel bag fall to the ground as she all but slammed her body against Bakugo’s and wrapped her arms around him.

They quietly clung to each other for what felt like forever, as if making up for the time they’d spent without physical contact by being as close now as possible. Bakugo tipped his head down, and his lips made contact with the crown of her head. He breathed in the smell of her hair, her sweet floral shampoo now mixed with the unfamiliar permeation of the dust and concrete that had followed her home.

Uraraka herself was comforted with the familiar scent of detergent and nitroglycerin as she pressed her face into Bakugo’s chest and closed her eyes. The scent of him seemed to flow through her body, reassuring her that she was home now. All the memories of death and destruction she’d seen, the long days of rescue that had stretched into the dead of night, the pain and fatigue, all seemed to soften just a bit in her mind now.

Finally Uraraka broke their embrace, and leaned up on her toes to kiss her boyfriend. “I missed you so much, Bakugo,” she said quietly, her cheek pressed against his as her arms now wound around the back of his neck.

“Missed you too, Round Face,” Bakugo murmured into her ear. “But let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”

Uraraka smiled into his cheek and nodded. She knew how much he loved crowds, which was not at all; not to mention after her long flight, she really, really wanted to go home and shower. “Let’s go.”

Bakugo grunted approvingly and scooped up Uraraka’s duffel bag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder. She slipped her hand into his as they made their way downstairs to the trains back into the city.

---

They didn’t speak much on the way home. Uraraka fell asleep for most of the trip, her head resting against Bakugo’s shoulder as he took care to make sure at least one of her fingers stayed upright while he held her hand in his. He shook her gently at the stop before theirs and she woke up blearily.

“You’re cute when you’re drooling,” Bakugo rumbled and grinned devilishly at her. Uraraka blushed and immediately wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

“So mean,” she teased back.

After a short walk from the station, they reached their apartment. Bakugo unlocked the door and Uraraka nearly collapsed on the floor with relief. “Hooooome!” she squealed, kicking her shoes off in the foyer and racing towards the bathroom. “A real shower!”

“Keep it down, would ya?” Bakugo tossed the duffel bag into their bedroom, then followed Uraraka into the bathroom. As she undressed to shower, he could see even clearer the contrast of the blue-green bruises and reddish-brown, scabbed-over gashes against her pale skin. Instead of sympathy, however, a burst of pride welled in his stomach. He couldn't help the smile that split across his face as he came up behind her and pressed his lips to the back of her head.

"Damn, Round Face, you really did a number.”

Uraraka sighed and dropped her head. "You should have seen all this before the recovery heroes had a chance to heal me." She bit her lip and ripped off the medical tape keeping the patch of gauze secure on her arm. The skin beneath it was new and pink, a fresh scar that would stay with her forever. “I feel fine, though.”

Bakugo hummed in response, low and gravelly that buzzed against Uraraka’s head. “You want tea?”

Uraraka stepped into the shower and closed the curtain. “Yes, please!”

---

They sat in bed together as Uraraka recounted everything that had happened during the rescue mission. Her voice rose excitedly as she recalled all the pro heroes she’d met, and all the different cuisines she’d been able to try, as the makeshift base camps from each nation had their own cooks on hand. She smiled gently as she told Bakugo about the families she’d been able to save, children, adults, even pets she’d found in the rubble when it seemed hopeless that they’d find anyone alive. Bakugo gripped her shoulder tight and pulled her close when she had trouble talking about those that hadn’t made it through the night, or the countless times when they’d arrived only minutes too late.

“Hey,” Bakugo said, tipping Uraraka’s chin up towards him. “You’re a fucking hero.”

Uraraka sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo katsuki #uraraka ochako #my fic stuff #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo says fuck #mmmm let me drown in this fluffy shit #priorities #i think you mean suggested schedule #i am not a doctor #hi i don't know how to end a story

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helmsguldborg82-blog · 6 years ago

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cherry3point14 · 6 years ago

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Three men and a Mary

Pairing: John x Mary Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy stuff but mostly fluffy fluff. Word Count: 1,460 words. Square Filled: Pregnancy Summary: The story of bringing the brothers Winchester into the world. A/N: This is a fill for @spnfluffbingo also it’s literally pure fluff. It’s not my fault that because, with foresight, it also hurts.

2018 SPN Fluff Bingo Masterlist Ao3 link if you prefer.

Being pregnant the first time is a roller coaster ride on account of everything being new. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t also scary as hell. Especially with how much this baby kicks. At one point Mary asks the nurses if it’s normal, but they only smile sweetly and tell her that she’s got a little athlete in there. John agrees and wonders if they have the next Terry Bradshaw on their hands. Of course, he's thinking about throwing around a football with his son, not the bruises on her internal organs. She couldn’t complain though, besides the tiny feet working away at her, the pregnancy is textbook. Even as the holidays approach and she still can’t stand the smell of ham, it’s picture-perfect. No false starts or anything. Baby Dean, named for her mother, is born a cold morning in January and he pops out a week early at that. He's out so fast that hours later she quips that he didn’t like it in there. It’s her way of thanking whoever was watching over her for the quick delivery. For someone who had hunted the stuff of nightmares, the thing that had kept her awake at night was giving birth. As speedy as he was born Dean does have a big head. It's big enough that the Doctor feels the need to reassure them more than once that he’ll grow into it. It almost earns him the honor of being named for his grandfather, someone else renowned for their large head. But it’s his eyes that are his grandmothers. His eyes and his tufty golden hair the same as hers. The resemblance is uncanny and almost takes Mary's breath away. Like her mother is alive again but only with John’s square jaw. That’s how Deanna gets her namesake. It turns out Dean hadn’t been in a rush to get out, he was only getting restless to meet his parents, Mary in particular. Dean is a clingy baby. John calls him a mama’s boy but it’s soft and without an ounce of malice. He thinks his son, his son, must be pretty smart. If John had to choose between the two of them he’d pick her too. Dean spends entire days refusing to sleep anywhere else but resting on Mary’s chest. John comes home on more than one occasion to find her on the sofa with Dean snuggled in her arms. Her eyes would always light up at the sight of her husband, her escape. He’d return the smile only for it to become a knowing smirk when Mary begs him for a drink or a snack. It’s all very amusing to John who laughs and asks her why she doesn’t ween him out of it. He didn't build Dean a crib for nothing. Mary defends her baby boy with all the adoration of a new mother. She insists that he does sometimes before she gives up and melts into staring at her baby boy again. Her face still caught in amazement that this tiny pink thing is something they made together. She always finishes the conversation with the same whispered sigh, “he’s so peaceful here.” Looking at them both it’s hard for John to disagree, Mary looks pretty cozy herself. It’s months later when Summer arrives that she finally relents, forcing herself to endure Dean wailing until he learns to sleep in his room. It is a nice crib after all and once she gets her freedom back it’s hard to let go of it again. Except for the odd time when they're both exhausted and fall asleep together. That doesn’t count. Dean grows into a bouncy toddler. He’s a kid that at two years old is already fiercely protective of everyone around him. Mary sees it when her and John fight. Dean gravitates to comfort her even before he understands what’s happening as if her two years old can already read her like an open book. He’s also a little ball of sunshine. John teaches him to play ball and Mary teaches him to read. They think it evens out to a pretty well rounded little kid. Even with the increasing fights scattered throughout the years, Dean is such an angel that they decide to try for another. Neither of them wants Dean to be lonely but only Mary sees Dean’s face when he comes home from a playdate. Only Mary sees how much he longs for a permanent partner in crime. John always wanted two anyway. Both secretly hope it’ll fix them as well. Mary can’t remember who said pregnancy number two would be easier but she’ll later claim it was John’s terrible mistake. Baby number two doesn’t kick as much, that’s where the positives end. She swears that she shows earlier this time and her bump is bigger. John says that’s nonsense but it's the way Dean looks at her stomach with wonder in his wide green eyes that draws a smile. It’s bigger but she can live with it. The morning sickness? Not so much. With Dean, it had been a few times in the morning for four weeks, at most five. This time she’s lucky to stop feeling nauseous by noon, and it lasts well over a month until it finally fades after ten grueling weeks. John theorizes that it’s a girl on account of how fussy the second baby is. Mary does not find the joke amusing while she’s trying to find a dress to cover the beach ball she’s smuggling. Then April arrives and so does an unprecedented heat. Mary spends entire days not knowing which part of her body is sweating. Although even if she could tell she probably couldn't reach since she's now the size of a small car. By mid-April, she’s on bed rest but her childless neighbor two doors down comes every day to help her. Patty chases Dean around with the vigor Mary once possessed and Mary has to remind herself that she will again. Of course, Mary has no idea that baby number two will be two weeks late. The heat peaks on May 1st when she feels something familiar stir in her stomach. It’s already late afternoon and she’s suffered the sticky spring heat all day, but she still pinks with happiness. It's all about to be over. The hospital room is hotter than hell and she screams to that effect several times during her thirteen-hour labor. No amount of ice chips will do. John says maybe this one likes it in there too much, so she clamps down on his hand extra hard as a contraction hits. After two extra weeks and thirteen hours, she’s almost ready to kill someone and John Winchester is the only none medical person in the room. Somehow she resists and is duly rewarded because at six am on May 2nd he’s out. It’s another boy and he casts the same spell over John and Mary that Dean had four years before. She finally laughs, it doesn’t feel like she’s done that in weeks. And she runs a gentle hand over his tiny bald head telling John that he’s definitely a Sam. Later they bring in Dean who, despite the preparation, can’t seem to believe that the wriggling, hairless thing wrapped up in blankets is his baby brother. Or that it’s what was inside his mummy’s tummy anyway. Mary can see his confusion when Dean crawls next to her on the bed and rests his little hand on her middle with a childish frown. But John says the magic words, “Dean, this is your baby brother, Sam.” That’s when they see it. They see what their faces must have looked like hours ago. They see the moment Dean sets his eyes on Sam’s squishy little face and falls in love. Love is a big concept for a four-year-old, but he doesn’t need to understand it to feel it. He’s a big brother. Mary thinks only a monster wouldn’t tear up at the sight of Dean pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead. Or that’s what she says watching them through blurred vision. John beams, proud, and ruffles Dean’s hair which leads to Dean asking if Sam will ever grow any. May 2nd, 1983 is the day the Winchesters become a complete unit. A whole. It’s the day they spend together in a hospital room with nothing but each other. Counting Sam’s toes while Dean asks every question his young mind can think of. For those few hours, there are none of the fights John and Mary have made it through, there’s none of the pain she’s suffered for nine and a half months. It’s just them, the Winchesters, and what they can only imagine will be forever.

#spnfluffbingo #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #mary winchester #john x mary #do they have a ship name?#FLUFF #FWP #Fluff without plot #The title is funny because in Three Men and a Baby the baby was called Mary #ha getit?#THEY ONLY GET THIS FOR SIX MONTHS #first time I've written for SPN and it's not reader insert #go figure

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years ago

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Life Story Part 64

Jumping between living at my father's and my mother's was a challenge. My father had this false sense of promise to get me on track, but what he really seemed more interested in was using my vulnerable and helpless situation to make me feel like a mooch. This isn't to say that he was not charitable in most regards. I never was made to feel like I had to pay for anything I used, water or food. My father liked/likes feeling needed – it gave him some kind of control over me. I didn't have a social security card so I couldn't work. I didn't have a license or the knowledge of how to drive, so I couldn't leave myself to go get those things. I was becoming more and more reclusive. I think all in all, he actually wanted me there forever. It just came to him occasionally that he felt that something was wrong with me being there. Rather than see his own involvement, he would blame me.

I think I read the driver's ed manual about ten times. My father promised he would teach me to drive, and then I would go get the permit and he would never take me out to drive at all. So I would go back, reread the damn manual, go take the test only to let it sit and expire again. It never went anywhere. I soon realized it never would go anywhere, and I gave up. Sometimes, when I woke up in the morning, my father would just start yelling at me about how I needed to grow the fuck up and get a job. I tried to explain that I needed things to go get a job I needed a license to leave Kendrick, I needed the SS Card, a Birth Certificate. Those things had been lost. He would rant about how I didn't seem like I a was living in the real world. I wasn't enough like him I guess. He was in this strange unstable place between being proud and angered by my interest in philosophy and my novels. I seemed very malleable on the surface. I tried to give every indication of believing and accepting what people said. My thoughts about everything where very complicated, but I instinctively tried to play myself off as being painfully simple. It angered him on some personal level because he had now worked at ATK for almost thirty years. He had given up his dreams to become a factory worker. He suffered repeated disappointments with women online. He went from being in love to high levels of resentment. He was aging. He hadn't dealt with any of the bad things that had happened. He was becoming more and more unstable. He knew me well enough to know that I was actually looking for a reason to live. And he had forsaken that a long time ago.

Of course I would have attempted to find work in Kendrick, but people in the town thought I was a heroin addict and I still needed the identity stuff to get a job anywhere. There really was no more than about four or five places to work anyway. Then, Carol, Sarah's mom – who must have felt some need to look out for me found an opening for me to make some money. The bike path that had replaced the old railroad tracks that Rachelle and I used to play on as kids had trees growing besides the trail. The city had decided to appoint some of the city council to a subdivision called the Tree Committee. Carol was part of the city council in some fashion, or was at least politically active in the town, for whatever that was worth, and she was given the role of mulching trees, and keeping the trail and areas around the crick clean. She was busy painting or remodeling someone's home up in the hills, so she instead offered me the job. It would pay 10 dollars an hour, and they had a set number of hours they wanted me to work over the course of the next two months. That was how much their budget would allow. It was warming up again – around March. I stood to earn about 1200 dollars by doing this work. What's more, I could set my own hours, though it seemed kind of necessary to get up early and go down.

I would often go down there, wielding my pruning sheers, my gloves, a small shovel and a hoe. The sky was always elegant in the morning, the temperature was perfect. Birds and trees were shaded differently, and the landscape looked surreal. It was very peaceful work. The job required me to do various tasks. I had to learn from scratch how to build these sort of rock domes that would shade these little trees that had been planted that year. The seeds were sourced from some great trees from Vermont, from what I remember. In fifty more years, I am sure they will be lovely. I grew protective and proud of the little guys. I made sure no weeds built up around them or choked them out. Generally I would do this in the morning before the sun took over. I tried to be done by one in the afternoon, since it eventually became too hot. I would watch the school buses and sometimes my own former classmates, going on to complete their last year of senior year.

Once, Samantha and her new boyfriend, Kyle's little brother Daryl, who was three years younger than us (I thought this coupling bizarre) went down to the bike path area where I was working in order to have a smoke. Sam saw me out there hands deep in dirt. I must have looked a bit ragged. Honestly, though, I didn't feel all that badly. I loved being away from people outside in the morning. I hated waking up of course, but I really did love being out in nature. I enjoyed seeing bear tracks and sometimes even seeing a beaver out there by the water. I felt like I was the free one when I watched all these people I used to recognize or know heading off to the school. There was nothing shameful about what I was doing. I was making money for once. Samantha saw me, and she seemed to look down on me and my work. Later, she talked to Sarah-Mae and told her that she had seen me in a pitiful state working on the bike path, and she had felt bad for me. I laughed. It was such an arrogant assumption to make. It was so basic to judge me for working, or thinking that dirty work was somehow bad.

Mostly out there I would zone out and listen to music in my head. I didn't have an MP3 at the time of course. I think they existed by that time, but it was rather expensive ( especially for me) and I probably didn't even fully understand that MP3 players existed. So I just learned to really internalize music in my mind. I listened to a lot of Billy Bragg. I only knew about three or four songs and I would listen to them intently in my head each morning I went out to work. That, and David Bowie's early album Space Oddity. It really was a nice little summer job overall. Once or twice, I had to go to the city hall and sit through boring discussions on budgeting for city maintenance in the evening. They were god awful boring. Carol seemed to share my sentiments.

I saved up all the money I made, and put it away. I planned to visit with Sarah in Texas with it. Though I didn't quite know when. Then, Sarah told me about how she and Alex had saved up enough to buy tickets to go to the Austin City Limits Festival in Texas in September. The 2007 lineup included The White Stripes and Bob Dylan. I had missed my opportunity to see the White Stripes a few years before, and seeing Bob Dylan obviously would be a dream come true for me. I had to see this guy who's music and thoughts were so integral to my own existence. It was hard for me to even fully believe he was just a person at the time. So I didn't spend a dime of that money. I had just enough to live on for three weeks in Texas, and I planned on visiting in the late summer. Sarah decided she would come visit Idaho for a week and we would take the plane together back to Texas. It was something I could look forward to. I needed to be around someone who actually cared about me as a human being.

There was one day, out working a little later in the evening than I had wanted to (I had taken too many days off), where I ended up getting into somewhat of an accident. Besides keeping the little trees along the path growing happy, I also had a job of cutting dead branches from some of the bigger trees and bushes by the crick, and seeing to it that areas where people liked to make trails to the water itself were kept safe. It was a way to avoid accidents from people who might trip or get hurt. I was having troubles getting to this one tree, so I had to get past these boulders that sloped down into the other side of that tree near the water (kind of hard to explain). I started down the slope, and one of the rocks let loose, and I ended up falling down the hill a ways. I stopped at one point, only to fall again. For the most part it ended up that I was okay. My head was okay, there were no broken bones. But my pinky finger really hurt, and I looked down and realized that there was blood gushing from the side of it. The blood was rolling down my arm and dripping off my elbow. I laid there in shock for a moment, and then realized that there was a snake about a foot away from me. I turned around and there was another one, and another and another. I counted about eighteen snakes all around me. Some of them looked like rattlers. I somehow had managed not to scare them away. For that moment there was a very strange aura of awareness. Snake awareness is very alien to me. They have a strange vibe about them. I mean, I like snakes, but I will never understand them at all. I was worried about getting bit. Many of these snakes were sizable. Thankfully they let me pass and get back on the bike path. I ran home and wrapped my finger, calling it good for the day.

I poured all of my psychological emotion into getting to Texas. It was something to live for, and something to look forward to. I missed Sarah so much. As I worked, I thought a lot of about classism. It was beginning to dawn on me more clearly that not everything about how my life went was freely controlled by the consequences of my own actions. I mean this not to shuttle the blame or my own personal faults away from myself. Obviously the way I reacted to life was part of my own personal set up exclusionary from what came within. But a great deal of the consequences of my life seemed more set by those who had power. Not intentionally. I didn't believe there was anyone who was actively trying to destroy me (save my parents perhaps). What I mean is that there were opportunities and attitudes I had grown accustomed to based on the fact that I was part of the lower working class. And since I didn't really meld well with the lower class, I felt at odds with what was in front of me. Most people from my sort of background would be drinking and getting ready to have a family, more or less.

People who came from the same wealth bracket as myself didn't like me. And then rich people didn't seem to like me either. I was some kind of oddball alienated from the culture I was supposed to have acclimated to. But in other ways, I reacted just the way I was expected to. That was why teachers hadn't wanted me to be an artist. Art is for rich kids. It was never spelled out to me that way. I was supposed to want what I could realistically achieve. I believe ultimately, that was why I had felt so attacked in high school. But the teachers never had enough self knowledge to realize what they were trying to stop me from doing. In their minds, they were trying to prevent me from ruining my own life. Mike saw potential for me in college. But he didn't want me to expect greatness. He wanted me to maybe have a fighting chance of getting out okay. He had shot down a lot of my ideas, but compared to most of the adults I knew, he was an idealist. Both my parents seemed really stuck in their jobs. They were conditioned to not expect more from life or their relationships, and if you tried to talk about meaningful stuff, I noticed they had these subtle cues and their minds would shut down and if you press further they will get aggravated. I have seen this a lot. It's not that poor people are stupid. They just don't have that hope in them anymore that would give them the notion to question themselves the way they would have to to out-think the conditioning. Their parents kill it, and the school system kills it. I think for the most part, those micro knives that kill the inner idealist and artist are well meant by people who lost their dreams so long ago they don't even remember. It is beaten down, and then there is nothing left.

I probably held onto some wild sense of idealism from early childhood because I am a little bit delusional. I can jump pretty deeply into my own imagination. Plus, my parents were never consistent. I found ways to hide from being truly beaten down. I don't know if being an avoidant delusional is really all that beneficial in the long run, or that I would necessarily suggest it. But it did give me a vantage point of being able to contrast my own world view with those around me. People in various social classes, genders, ethnicity and religions are all conditioned to a certain extent to shut down when they get to their limit of what they think about, what makes them functioning. And there is a precedent for them to resent one another, consciously or not. Men vs. women, white vs. black. Blaming Mexicans for the economy. It goes on and on. I'm not a crazy George Carlin fan, but I really like how he talked about how they want people just smart enough to run the machines, but not smart enough to question why. In every Truly, I realized that there was something very political about asking questions. Being that I was from a certain social class, a good deal of the backlash I had received throughout my entire life was due to the fact that I had refused to fit into the place I was supposed to.

Living in a class system like I was seemed wrong to me, but if you studied the corporatist -capitalist system you could definitely tell how and why this system existed. I of course understand that we human beings have some natural tendencies to become clannish. Racism for instance, would still exist under any system of government or economics, as would sexism. I felt like both political parties in a sense, betrayed people, by not opening or asking the right kinds of questions. I thought too about how the richer kids at the high school looked down on me for working outdoors getting my hands dirty as they drove by. I couldn't really be mad at them in a sense. They were small minded and conditioned to think a certain way. Of course, this prejudice stupidity is also probably the worst thing about us as humans and we very well might destroy ourselves with it.

Sarah arrived in July. We were ecstatic to see one another again. Sarah had a tan from working outside so often. She looked great. I had gained ten pounds since the previous year. I had sort of lost my sense of style. What worked and matched my personality didn't work or fit me at eighteen anymore. Most of my clothes were old and ratty, and didn't feel like they suited me. My hair looked frizzy and bad. My eyes hurt all the time, and were beginning to water. I kept one of them clenched shut constantly and just looked out of my left eye. I was even worse at making eye contact. Most of Sarah's week in Idaho she spent with her mother and her grandparents, who really were getting on in their years. But there was this one memorable night that I remember she came down to my house. We were talking and having a good time, but Sarah was getting tired. I always do everything in my power to make my friends stay up late with me. It's just this weird thing I do – I know it's probably selfish to deny a tired friend of their sleep – but I can't really help it. I guess I like steering people in the wrong direction – it's a character flaw I guess. I just don't want good things to end. Anyway, she kept talking to me as she fell asleep on my couch, but I sat besides her and tried to talk to her to make her stay awake. After awhile, she started talking nonsense. She started talking about things that didn't quite make sense. I had somehow accidentally hypnotized her.

It didn't really come to much, I was just extremely amused that I had hypnotized her. Similar to how I used to have conversations with my younger sister Allison when she was three as she slept. I couldn't get Sarah to talk about much of what I wanted to talk about. I mostly just asked her to elaborate on what she was talking about. She was flying in her dream into her mother's shop and was explaining how she was flying into this piece of jewelry that was shaped like a triangle and had a rainbow inside. I didn't have any deep dark questions. Eventually, after talking to her about various things she was seeing, I snapped her out of it. She woke up out of the daze. She had no recollection of having discussed anything with me. She had thought she had been asleep the entire time.

We rode the plane back to Texas. We didn't get a window seat. I was frustrated because there is literally nothing I love more than the window seat of an airplane. Almost nothing. It's definitely in the top 5. In the Denver airport I had the tastiest chocolate chip cookie and Thanksgiving Sandwich I had ever eaten in my entire life. It was so amazing to be out of Idaho. It was so nice to be going somewhere with someone who actually liked me and wanted to know what I had to say. As we waited for a few hours for our flight to board, we looked out the window below us in the flat area outside Denver, and watched the airport flaggers and baggage handlers and airplane technicians working and having serious presumably work related conversations. We did voice overs of what they were saying, and though I don't know what we made them say, I remember feeling it was hysterically fun. I continuously tried to read Notes From the Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky and continuously failed. It was occurring me that I never had any fun anymore. Honestly, I hadn't had fun in years. It's hard to explain what that is like. I often found things I found meaningful and enjoyable. But never was there a time when the rug being pulled out from under me was actually any fun at all. I generally just slipped and fell into new lows. I constantly had to watch my back and guess what people's egos were going to make them do. It became exhausting and mind numbingly soul-crushing business for me all the time. Dare I say, it was beginning to wear me down psychologically.

Texas air was thick and muggy. I had not expected that. I thought Texas would be dry for some reason. Alex picked us up and drove us back from the airport to his place. Texas was mostly dry and flat. New Braunfels actually had a hill in it, and it was sort of a big deal in that area since hills were hard to come by. We drove through this big park, and up into the hill area, where there where the houses were mostly very nice. There were these whacky miniature deer that lived in people's yards in herds. I guess Texas people think they are pests, but they seem to have little fear of people and simply graze among suburban neighborhoods. I had never seen such a thing. I was told that one such deer ran into Sarah and Alex's car and dented it. The insurance company had deemed it an act of God.

We stopped into one of these houses. They parked and we went inside. Sarah was excited her home. Inside their portion of the house, they had their own small fridge, a big area where they had a drumset set up, and a fine keyboard. Alex's computer area was in the corner. Their bedroom was painted dark blue. They had a bathroom and Sarah had a small art table to do her arts and crafts. The floor was made out of fake wood, which I was told was cheap, but I actually think was rather classy compared to the raggedy flooring I was accustomed to. They had a pet turtle that some man had randomly given them. Her name was Ruby. She was cute, but her life must have been painfully empty. She just swam in a very small area. I would think that turtle would want to live somewhere like a pond. I was a little bit afraid of Ruby honestly. We existed on entirely different vibrations.

They had this exercise room, and the first thing I noticed upon entering was Alex's step dad, a strange little man I always felt looked like he belonged in Whoville. He was peddling this exercise bike in this nerdy way that almost reminded me of some kind of comedy skit from Saturday Night Live or something. It took everything I had not to start laughing upon seeing him. The only reason I didn't laugh is because I had been warned in advance that whatever I thought when I first saw him it would give me the strong urge to laugh, and I couldn't. He didn't have much of a sense of humor.

The rest of the house was even larger. Their kitchen was big. They had a sun room, a living room, a study, a dining room and a large bedroom. It was a opulent. Alex's mother Rebecca was a small round blonde lady with a strong southern accent and a certain endearing honesty about her. She was a genuine sweetheart. Alex's mother had met Robert (his stepdad) in some kind of radio contest dating thing. She had gone on one date with him – weighed out her options and happily jumped on board. Robert was incredibly rich. He worked for a university. He had very unique skills in mathematics and had a masters degree. He brought home a lot of money.

The room I was to stay in for three weeks was simple, but nice. Plus, I had my own big bathroom. The bathtub was actually more of a Jacuzzi. It was admittedly, much nicer than what I was used to. I almost didn't know what to do with it. I was so happy to be out of the environment I was used to. I was far away from my parents, or the lonely need that my younger brother and sister seemed to have for me. They had both grown to be quite emotionally dependent on me. When you get away from negativity from your surroundings that is slowly killing you from within and without, it can almost be shocking to step into something where nothing is out to get you and nobody wants to hurt you. I had dyed my hair rainbow (temporarily). I planned on having fun and being myself for awhile. I only read one book in those three weeks – John Steinbeck's 'East of Eden'.

I feel like it was a little boring there sometimes, though I never was bored (I actually don't get bored and don't really know what that feels like – I can always generate something to do). Sarah and Alex laid in bed a lot. Of course, I stayed up all night using Sarah's super old laptop (it was probably a 98) to surf the web and at least attempt to check my MySpace. Sarah and Alex didn't have very much money. While it was true they didn't have to pay the rent or anything, at least after they had rescued Alex's parents fish when their giant aquarium had randomly burst (this endeared them to make the rent free for some reason), they were only making five dollars an hour and working twenty-five hours a week tops, which was terrible money even in 2007. The only thing they could really afford to do was eat and sleep and watch Futurama reruns. I often times would sit at their bedside and try to get Sarah and Alex's energy up. I tried to be humorous and entertaining and engaging. I tried to get them excited about stuff. I think they liked my company, but ultimately I could never get them to do very much.

Texas itself definitely wasn't my style. Texas gets HOT for one. It was oddly rainy that year in that part of Texas, and that helped, but when it was hot outside, I felt like I was walking around on Mercury. I didn't see any rhinestone cowboys as I had hoped. I was told that those types resided in the other parts of Texas, though I am sure they were stuffed here and there and I just never had a good chance to see them. I sometimes played Sarah's drum. I knew little to nothing about drumming. Alex taught me where you were supposed to put your feet and how you were supposed to play the drums, but I disregarded the rules of drumming in favor of making up songs. I mostly came up with made up theatrical military songs about British imperialism for some reason. I played the role of a stuffy egomaniac British officer singing to the beat of the drums about his conquests.

Alex's parents were gone for most of the entire time I was there. They left the day after I arrived. Robert I think had early stage prostate cancer, and he had to go get his final tests and such done to make sure it was gone (it was). This gave us a somewhat freer reign of the house in a way we might not have had if they had been home. I got to know Alex a whole lot better. He liked reading and writing quite a bit – so we did have that in common. I think mostly, he found me entertaining. At one point during those three weeks, we challenged one another to a chocolate chip cookie eating contest at some point. Basically, we spent thirty dollars on Albertson's brand chocolate chip cookies that come in the purple bags that they often sell sometimes at the front. I managed to eat like, twenty-five. It was sooo disgusting after awhile. I eventually started to gag and had to stop. I felt sick to my stomach for the next eight hours. Alex won. Alex and I were officially friends. We were both very competitive and well read. It's hard for me to make friends sometimes, because I when I feel comfortable around people (which is pretty damn rare) I joke hard. I joust with people psychologically and that can be kind of rough for some folks. A great deal of the time people don't know that I am not trying to hurt them, and they back down. Which I don't know why because I am not really that great at comebacks and I generally dig my own grave in my attempt to get one up on the other person. Alex didn't have a problem with that at all. I hadn't really liked Alex all that much before. He was okay. We had got along okay before, but I thought he was pretty pretentious for how he had confronted my sister and his overall nonchalant attitude towards people. Sarah ate half of a cookie and was good.

There were nights when we swam in the pool out back. Water made/makes Sarah a little bit crazy. Her eyes go all black and she gets sadistically hyper. It was great. We sometimes sat around listening to old school rap and play card games till two in the morning. I cannot explain the birds that flew out of my heart sitting there at that table. I had bottled so much of myself up. I had to, but now I was around friends who liked me. And yet I would have to go back to Idaho sooner rather than later.

Not everything was perfect all the time. Much of the time, Sarah and Alex cooped themselves in their bedroom to watch television and I would wander the house. I read bits of William Faulkner books in Robert''s study. I started paying attention to articles online, generally about ghosts and UFO's and mysterious disappearances on list sites like Listverse. There was a night I remember vaguely where Alex had some kind of change of heart. He told Sarah he wanted to go to college. I guess they had some kind of pact between them where they thought college was pointless and dumb. I was sitting in the dining room reading, and Sarah came in in her pajamas and told me that Alex wanted to go to college rather than work. She felt it was very dumb and she was confused and baffled why anyone would want to go to college. He later recanted the whole college thing. And then there was an evening I faintly remember, where Sarah came in to talk to me. I don't remember what she was saying to me, other than she sounded really confused. I think she might have been trying to tell me she didn't love Alex, but I can't be sure. She said she didn't feel like he knew who she was. She didn't know who she was. She wanted me to be mad at her – like the old days. She wanted to feel something. She started insulting herself and saying I should be furious at her. She said that Alex couldn't see through her at all like I could. I knew what she meant, but I knew myself better than to go down that path. I was never going to cross those boundaries ever again. I loved/love Sarah to death, but I wasn't going to try and fix her anymore. I wasn't going to map out an identity for her anymore. She would have to figure it out for herself. Sarah, deep down, had both resented how harsh I was on her, and appreciated how deeply I looked into her. In the end, she broke down crying on the floor. I listened intently. I tried to be supportive, but I was also quite reserved and quiet. I wanted her to know through my silent listening that we weren't going to fight. I wasn't going to try to squeeze emotion out of her anymore. She was on her own.

I think what majorly helped with my boundaries in my friendship with Sarah was that I read a lot of introductory Buddhist and Taoist stuff. I am by no means some great expert in eastern religion mind you. But I felt like I was finally beginning to get what people were deep down, at least sort of. I had thought I understood how people operated when I was younger. Somehow, I had been pretty wrong about just about everything. I understood that part of Sarah's growth was me letting her make her own mistakes. And part of me growing as a person was not taking charge of anyone but myself. We had forged a friendship on codependency. And it had mostly been me who initiated that codependency. Sarah had been a crutch for me, and when I got mad at her – I hadn't truly seen her for the person she really was. Sarah was more just lost and emotionally immature. In a very real way, Sarah moving had saved our friendship. I am pretty damn certain of that actually. I am by nature, a codependent person. Many times throughout my life, I have had to take a step back and witness myself being codependent and make the step-by-step decision not to do or say certain things. It's hard, and it never gets better since I am a bit broken. But I knew now to some degree that in order to get or not get what I wanted, whatever that want was, it wasn't to delve deeply into my fears and ego.

We all three took a very strange and gross adventure to a nearby town called Seguin. I guess, there had been this very weird fifty-something year old man that had washed buses for awhile at the Schlitterbahn when it was open. Alex and Sarah, probably to be nice, had promised to go over to his place to have BBQ chicken for some reason. They made plans to go over to his house, and they brought me along. Seguin was kind of a dump. I was watching television years later, and I think there was some kind of serial killer there at some point – the claim to fame of the town. We drove up to a set of apartments, and we knocked on his door. This pudgy strange babbling man with slicked black hair came out. He kept addressing himself as both Dwayne, and Dwight. Sarah and Alex didn't even know his name. They just called him Dwayne Dwight. He invited us into the apartment. The apartment was gross. All over the walls he had corny nudes he had gotten from dirty magazines. There were nude men as well, but he kept telling us that his brother had put those up – not him, which of course he was lying. The place smelled of masturbation in the worst way. The couch was broken. He had a sticky old computer that I am sure was full of viruses. He didn't seem to understand that going to random porn sites caused viruses, and he wanted Alex to fix it. His fridge had moldy food in it. He said he had a gun because he thought there were people after him because his brother owed people money. This story of his involvement with bad people in organized crime never made any sense. He basically kept saying that people were after him for essentially no reason – which couldn't possibly be true. He probably owed money to people. He struck me as a gambler and someone who frequently paid for sex. He said inappropriate things to all of us both sexually and none. I had no idea why we were even there. It was so horrific that I was sort of fascinated. But my stomach also gurgled and I was extremely uncomfortable.

By the time we got to cooking the chicken, I wasn't even hungry anymore. We were out in the yard, and the Texas sun was baking us all. We all wanted to leave, but it was too late to back out now. Looking at the raw meat on the grill, outside the house with Dwayne Dwight contradicting himself left and right, I just wanted to leave. I watched intently, the flies landing on the meat that was cooked. It was moments like this where I wondered if I even really liked meat. I mean, this is creepy and all, but there is this weird power thing about meat. Like, it's a demonstration of dominance and power, and there is something sort of psychologically addictive about the idea that an animal died and you are eating it's body. This sounds insane coming from a vegan, I realize. It's because I realize this dynamic that I don't eat meat, but it was also the reason that I ever liked to eat meat to begin with. There is some weird euphoria I still get when I think about eating animals. It's not a good feeling, but it's real. And it's not for the taste. Vegan food is pretty fantastic. The euphoria is truly because I am completely split down the middle on the kind of person I am. I like the idea of eating dead animals. And at the same rate, I am revolted by it and find it (in principle – not always in practice [people eat meat for a lot of reasons, some of which they cannot help]) morally wrong and psychologically absurd. I dream about eating meat still. When I wake up, I feel intensely ashamed. Sometimes though, meat is simply disgusting – and these powerful moments have never left me. Some bird's lived a painful life and died a tragic death in a factory farm so that I could sit outside of Dwayne Dwight's disgusting apartment and cook up a massive bowl of fly ridden bits of it's flesh from the bone, coated in a sugary substance. It would have been a lot better had we not.

Eventually we left, and I never saw Dwayne Dwight again, and Sarah and Alex never contacted him again. I guess years later, somewhat recently, Dwayne Dwight was found murdered in his vehicle. He probably borrowed money from someone he should not have. But seriously, looking at this guy for three seconds, he was the stereotype of a man you should never lend money to. I can't imagine how dumb you would have to be to give this guy ten dollars, let alone something in the four or more digits.

PART 63 - https://tinyurl.com/ybosu235

PART 62 - https://tinyurl.com/ybjrvccn

PART 61 - https://tinyurl.com/ybm99k8o

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-60 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-60

#text

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lokischocolatefountain · 7 years ago

Text

An Act of Political Sacrifice

Part: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Fandom: Hamilton (Modern AU)

Pairing: Alex x Eliza

Rating: PG for swearing

Word count: 3.2k words

Warning: Historical inaccuracies for the sake of convenience, Philip is a baby, adultery, angst, inappropriate language, therapy, infidelity, really angsty

Summary: Elizabeth Hamilton, with a wonderful career, loving husband, and a child, is satisfied in life. How does she handle it when her husband who could never be satisfied pulls the rug out from under her, destroying everything she held close to her heart?

Alexander Hamilton hadn't heard his wife's voice since the last time she was in their apartment over two months ago. Any conversation between them occurred only when there was a change of plans in picking up Philip from his daycare, and they took place only via text messages. Nothing more, nothing less. So, when the man heard the ringtone he had assigned only to her, he was afraid that it was bad news. Was Eliza alright?

"Eliza?" he spoke into his phone.

"Shit! Sorry, I- I don't know what I was thinking," she sounded nasal like she had a cold or was crying. He knew it was the latter, but he wished it was the former.

"Are you okay?" He asked, getting off his bed and putting on his glasses.

"I don't know," she said through sniffles.

"Shall I come over?" Alex didn't bother waiting for her to reply as he grabbed his keys on his way to the front door, while still in his pajamas.

When Eliza said, "If you're free, please?", the man was already in his car.

"Be there in ten."

Eliza had moved temporarily into an empty apartment owned by her family as she didn't feel very comfortable surrounded by all the pity and advice from visiting relatives. Her father tried reasoning with her over concerns for her safety, but she was adamant in her decision as always.

When he reached Eliza's new residence, she was picking up Philip's scattered toys off the floor and throwing them in a large white basket. He said nothing as he helped her with the remaining toys. When he shrieked as he stepped over a piece of lego, he caught the corners of her lips turn slightly upward in amusement.

"Why does he even have legos?" They had agreed to get him legos for his third birthday, which was only a month away.

"Well, the two Philips had gone out for grandfather- grandson bonding time and came back with everything they could fit inside the car," she chuckled, throwing in the last piece in the box that Alexander had handed her.

"He spoils the kid too much," he said, wishing for a second that his father had gotten to know Philip, but rolling his eyes internally when he recalled that the man couldn't be bothered to attend his wedding.

"Tell me about it," she said, stowing away the box in a mostly empty shelf. He followed her into the kitchen like a new puppy while she talked about her father's bond with their son.

"It's eleven, and you're having dinner now?" he asked as she helped herself to some pasta. She always ate on time and made sure he did too, being the overly health conscious person she was.

"I wasn't in the mood. You want some? I wasn't paying attention and made the usual quantity."

They sat on the couch as they ate together in silence. He was thankful she made more for three reasons: he didn't have dinner, he missed how tasty her dishes were, and mostly because she said she cooked for him as well out of practice. It gave him hope.

"I was sleepy and made coffee for you yesterday morning," he confessed. When he realized what he had done, he threw the contents down the sink, annoyed with himself, and left for work as quick as possible. She paused playing with her fork and looked up from her plate.

"Philip knows something's going on," she sighed, putting down the fork.

"What? How?"

"Kids know such things, they're not stupid. We don't go out on the weekends anymore, dad or mom are here everyday to check on us, he lives in two separate houses on alternate days, he doesn't see the two of us together," she threw her hands up in the air in frustration and brought them back to the table with a thud.

"He asked me why we were fighting when I was reading a story to him before bed and I didn't know what to say. I just told him to sleep. God, I'm such a bad mother." She rested her elbows on the table and buried her face in her palms. Alex hurried to her side and she hugged him while he caressed her hair.

"I'm so scared. I don't know what I'm doing and I can't even talk to anyone because I feel so ashamed. Karen- you know, that asshole Karen- she was suddenly too friendly with mum, inviting herself over and shit. One day, she just brought her son over and began ranting about how much better my life would've been if I married him."

"Who, John?" He released her from the hug and went back to his chair, recalling Eliza mentioning how the woman was pestering her parents to have her married to her son. She even dated the creature for a month before dumping him just so that she could get the woman off her case. Alex hated him and made it a habit to address him by the wrong name whenever they met at social gatherings.

"It's Jeff," she pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"Same thing, Eliza."

She shook her head in disbelief and continued, "That's not the point. I just couldn't be there. I felt like a burden to mom and dad because they defend me against those people."

"I'm sure they don't consider you a burden." Alex took her hand in hers and entwined his fingers with hers, just like he always did when she needed comfort.

"I know, but still. They all act so weird around me, or I was just overanalysing everything. Either way, I wasn't very comfortable there."

They ate in silence and settled on the couch once they were done and watched Toy Story 3 for what felt like the hundredth time. The clock was ticking and he was drowsy. He knew he had to leave and get some sleep if he wanted to be functional the next day, but the way her fingers unconsciously played with his made him want to be there forever. He didn't even make a noise, afraid that she might stop if she realized what she was doing.

"How have you been?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere. She looked up from his shoulder with her beautiful round eyes, and god damn they looked so beautiful in the dim light of the television.

"I'm okay," he answered, halfheartedly. He didn't know whether to pour out his heart to her or pretend everything was okay. All he knew was that he didn't want an argument.

"Hercules doesn't think so."

"When did you talk to him?" He should ask Mulligan to shut his mouth and not go around annoying wife about him. She probably didn't want to hear it anyway.

"Does it matter?"

"I just don't want to whine to you about the problem I created for myself, especially when it hurt you the most," Alex confessed as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"You shouldn't bottle it all up, it's not good," she said, giving his arm a little squeeze. His dear Betsey was the only one kind enough to sympathize with those who hurt her.

"I know," he breathed, giving her a chaste kiss on her forehead. He didn't want to overstep his physical boundaries with her and it was especially difficult as he didn't know where it was.

"Maybe we should try therapy. Together," she said playing with the strings of her pyjama pants.

"For what?"

"To get better. I read that couples therapy is good for this sort of thing." She was no longer looking at him, her lap seemed more interesting to her with the way she was staring at it.

"This sort of thing? What do you even mean?" He demanded, his fingers guiding her chin to look at him.

"Infidelity."

"Eliza, there's nothing wrong with our marriage, it's just me. I'm a dick," he exclaimed. Her suggestion that something was so wrong with their marriage that they needed therapy was insulting.

"Alexander," she tried to grab his attention, but he was busy trying to convince her that they didn't need any of that shrink crap. They just took money to make people talk to each other. He could do that on his own time with his wife without a fucking chaperone.

"Alexander! I can't do this alone."

"You're not going to do it alone. You have me. We'll work it out together. We're the experts at our own marriage, not some outsider." They had been fixing their problems by themselves perfectly well and didn't need someone else to do it for them.

"Everytime I try to talk to you about it, I'm too furious to think rationally. We can't do this on our own. Maybe you can, but I can't!" she exclaimed, her eyes pleading with his own.

"It's normal to get angry." And right, he thought.

"Yeah, but it's very unhealthy and won't be good in the long run. Listen, I don't want to force you if it's something you don't want to do, but please give it a thought before outright rejecting it."

"I can't saw the elephants, daddy," Philip pouted as he tugged his father's pants to get his attention. In response, Alex carried the boy and sat him on his shoulder, wincing slightly as he gripped his hair in fear of falling off.

"Can you, now?"

"Yes!" He squealed playfully as he began narrating a story he heard from his friend about elephants.

"Why does it have a tail in the front?"

"It's called a trunk, honey," Eliza answered as she tried to suppress her laughter.

"Why does it have that?"

"We have our hands to eat and carry things. Elephants have a trunk instead."

"Then, it should have two trunks, not one. I can't do anything with one hand, like clap," he said, trying to clap with one hand as a way of proving that it wouldn't work.

It was Philip's birthday and the first time the family was together since the news of the affair was published. Their son, being the animal enthusiast he was begged them to take him to the zoo when asked what he wanted for his birthday. The boy was full of questions about animals, including the monkeys who were having sex. He and Eliza answered his every question to the best of their knowledge and googled the ones they couldn't.

After a while, they sat down on a bench in front of the meerkat exhibit as Eliza was too tired to walk, while Philip entertained himself watching the animals run back and forth.

At eighteen weeks into her pregnancy, Alexander could notice Eliza's cute little baby bump that reminded him of the time they were expecting Philip. She was explaining to him the size of their baby (only the size of a can of cola, apparently), how it was punching and kicking and even yawning. It had distinct ears and started developing eyebrows.

"When do you have to go to the doctor next?" he asked as he watched her rummage through their bag for snacks like a raccoon in the trash. This comparison had earned him a glare years before, which reminded him to keep the comment to himself this time.

"Tomorrow. It's good that you asked. Can you take Phil home tonight because it's an early appointment and I won't have time to take him to the daycare," she said before biting into an apple. Their kid hated hospitals and he knew it wasn't an option for Eliza to take him along with her. But, it wasn't what he had in mind when he asked her about it.

"Well- umm- okay," he tried to argue but agreed to her request.

"You don't sound okay. You don't have to if you're busy. I could drop him off with Dad. He's been complaining about not seeing his grandson enough."

"Betsey, I'm not busy at all. I just thought I could come with you." He was in fact very busy, but she didn't have to know that. He could think of an appointment that could be attended by his subordinates and wouldn't need his presence. If Eliza drifter farther away from him, he would lose her and his family entirely.

She looked wide-eyed at him with her mouth full of apple, her surprise indicating how unusual he was being. He had gone with Eliza for only three of her appointments when she was previously pregnant. She signalled him to wait for a second before she hurriedly swallowed it.

"Alexander, you don't have to," she trailed and continued once she found the perfect word, "overcompensate. You're probably very busy."

"I'm never too busy for my family," he defended immediately. Eliza raised an eyebrow challengingly as she bit into the apple almost angrily. She then shook her head and looked back at him with a more neutral expression.

"We're going to fight about this, aren't we?" she chuckled.

"Seems like that's all we do these days," he said sorrowfully, hanging his head low. She moved closer to him on the bench and rested her head on his shoulder and he took her hand in his.

"I wish it never happened," she whispered so quietly, he didn't know if he was meant to hear it. She didn't have to mention what it meant.

"Me too, Betsey. Me too."

Eliza invited him into her apartment when Alex dropped her off after they left their son at the Schuyler mansion, and he gladly went in. The rest of the day went by well. They walked around the zoo slowly until Philip's legs gave out and began falling asleep on his dad's shoulder. They went to his favorite restaurant where he became full right after drinking a small bowl of tomato soup. The conversation had made things uncomfortable for the pair, but they ignored it in favor of putting up an act in front of their kid who seemed happy after a long time to be out with both of his parents.

"You're too silent these days," she commented as she took his coat from him.

"I could say the same about you," he countered as he fell back on the couch.

"Well, it's true, but I have the capability to remain silent and we know very well that you can't go more than a minute without speaking in detail about something or the other," she pointed out.

She switched on the television before she walked to the kitchen to fetch them water. The television, unfortunately, opened on a news channel on which people seemed to be debating him and his affair in particular. Has she forgiven him? There was even a picture of them from today. His wife was elaborately discussed, angering him to no ends. Eliza didn't seem at all bothered by the subject of the program until she changed the channel to one that showed close up images of food.

He hated her new apartment and everything that was in it. It was complete, just like their home that she hadn't stepped into for months. It was fully furnished with the best furniture, her clothes were kept in her wardrobe as though they belonged there, their son had a room and a new set of everything he had back home. It looked like she had moved in permanently.

"It's dad. He didn't tell me anything, but I think he hates you," she said, taking a sip of water.

"That's an understatement," he huffed, recalling the fire in his eyes not too long ago when they dropped Philip off.

"Yeah, well. He's been buying things for the place I never asked for. It's nothing to worry about. He'll come around soon,”she shrugged.

"It's not really him that I'm worried about," he said, putting his legs up on the coffee table. He didn't like to do that usually, but the furniture here could get all muddy and ugly for all he cared.

"Well, you should be, Hamilton. He might issue a reward for whomever beheads you. Whenever he comes home, he bitches about you like you bitch about Jefferson and Burr."

"Have you moved on?" he asked, taking notice of a particular word. Home. This wasn’t her home.

"What? No, I haven't."

"It looks like you have. You look so comfortable in this house- you called it home and I hate that. This is not- it can't be your home. You have your things lying around everywhere and this place is so lived in and it seems that you've decided to leave our home permanently."

"I don't think I can come back there, Alexander."

"What do you mean? It's our home!"

"It was! Now that I know what you did there, it feels so, ugh," she grunted as she clenched her fists, "disgusting."

"So you're never coming home. This is your decision," he deadpanned. He should've expected this. When Eliza finally met him after asking for time apart to think, he didn't think the duration was forever. She tried to interrupt him, but he put no effort into listening to her as he poured out his frustrations.

"What about going to therapy? I thought you wanted us to get better. Have you changed your mind?" he asked, searching his memory for any instance in which he hurt her enough for her to stop considering repair.

"Alexander!" Eliza's voice brought him back to reality from the depths of his mind.

"Listen to me. My not coming there has nothing to do with my decision regarding the continuity of our marriage. I don't want to return, not because I want to be separated from you- legally or otherwise, but because it's no longer my home. Do you remember how long it took us to save up enough money to buy that place? The day we moved in? All our funds were locked up and we didn't have enough for groceries. We were hungry, but never happier. It was where we fought, made love, had our child," she paused to gasp.

"I thought it was ours, I thought our home was as special to you as it was to me, but you willingly brought some girl to our home, our bed, and God knows where else."

"So, you're not giving up on our marriage?" he asked hopefully, ignoring her words about their home. He understood why she felt the way she did. The fact that they would never live together in their home was painful, but her answer was more than enough for him to hope for a new beginning in a new home.

"How could I? I've loved you for so long that I can't recall myself before you or imagine myself in the future without you. You've been a good husband to me and a wonderful father to Phil, and I have no doubts that you'll be good to next one." There was a hint of a smile as she touched her belly endearingly.

"You've done something truly horrifying and as much as I'm supposed to shun you from my life for it, I can't because you've been nothing but absolutely sincere in your apologies and actions. I'm terrified of being with you again, of giving you all the broken pieces of my heart because you still wield the power break them to a point of no return,” she said, her voice as vulnerable as it was when she vowed to stand by him for sickness and in health.

"I'll never hurt you ever again, I promise," he choked on his own voice as he buried his face in the crook of her neck as he selfishly took in the comfort of her presence yet again. She let him take her guest bedroom and before that, he kissed her belly and promised their daughter- he wished it was a girl- to be the father she deserved, and the husband her mother deserved.

#hamilton #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #elizabeth schuyler #the reynolds pamphlet #hamilton modern au #hamilton imagine #modern hamliza #hamliza #hamilton x eliza #alexander x eliza #hamilton fanfic #angst

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