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softmamawrites · 3 years

Text

Just Be

Rick x meta!female!OC

Words: 10.5K

Warnings: smut, blood, gore, swearing, Rick being Rick (it’s a warning)

I haven’t written for this fandom before…pls be kind to me.

This is a lot of canon…and I’m gonna say it, Rick deserved better.

I also haven’t written anything for the public in almost 2 years.

I’m not sure who made the separators, if you do please let me know so I can give credit.

“You know…you’re terrible at following people.” Stela says as she pushes her shopping cart in front of herself. Knowing that he’s close by, while she chooses a cereal. Putting it in her cart and carrying on before she feels his presence.

“I know I’m not good at following people.” Rick says as he looks down at her, seeing the way her muddy brown hair is pulled up. Her profile showing off her nose ring and freckles. The skin on the right side of her neck looking marred, it could pass as a burn scar. Her left calf an almost exact replica of her neck, capris showing off her otherwise smooth skin.

“You just take up too much room.” The woman says as she grabs a few bottles of Gatorade. Then moves onto the cases of water, humming softly as she looks at it.

“Are you calling me fat?” She lets out a snort of a laugh before shaking her head a bit and heaving a case of water into her cart. Rick having stepped up to help her, but instead watching her in awe.

“Why are you here?”

“Because…if I’m not, someone else will be.” She hums a bit and finally looks up at him, blinking slowly. Raising her eyebrow slightly before moving her cart again.

“And I assume, they are sending someone to recruit me. Or to kill me?” She asks as she goes towards the pet area, Rick following along. Watching her skim over a few things, before deciding on a large bag of dry cat food. Hoisting it into the cart, before beginning her trek again.

“Since when did you get a cat?” He asks in confusion, knowing the woman didn’t ever really want any pets. Stela lets out a quiet snort, shaking her head softly.

“I don’t…the neighborhood does.” He rolls his eyes softly, knowing she lives in a mostly deserted area. Swamp land around her and trees lining the other side. Secluded just how she liked it, nobody around to say anything. They move through the store until she’s done shopping, checking out and going towards her car.

“How long are you staying?”

“As long as it takes.” She hums softly and loads up her trunk, closing it before looking at him. Seeing that he’s already looking at her, his eyes a little intense.

“Well, you can follow me then.” She climbs into the Jeep and begins her drive back to her little slice of heaven. Windows down and letting the warm air filter around her as she goes. Looking in the review mirror out of habit and seeing him a few cars behind her. Still being guarded with who else could possibly be following her.

“You’re gonna help me bring my stuff in…since you’re camping out here.” Stela tells him once they are both parked in front of her house. The white paint looking fresh and new, power washer still in the spot she left it in the grass.

“Yes ma’am.” Rick responds smirking as she turns back around to grab a few bags. Heading inside while he grabs the case of water and a few bags. Bringing them in and putting them where she directs him to.

“So…are you here to kill me? Or recruit me?” She asks once they’ve brought in all of her groceries, the woman having pulled herself up onto the counter. Peeling an orange and setting the peels next to her as she does.

“Waller wants you for a mission…said you’d be the best to bring in. As a lookout.” She hums a bit and nods her head softly, popping a segment into her mouth. Chewing as she looks up at him, seeing his long body leaning against the middle island across from her.

“Well…pretty sure I told Waller I was out.”

“You know she doesn’t care.” He replies, looking at her with those eyes that usually make her weak in the knees. But they make her heart hurt today, seeing just how tired he is.

“Hmm, well I’m still out. I’m not leaving this house.”

“I figured you’d say that…which is why I came out to get you. If she sent someone else, you’d have been tranquilized at the store and drug out to a car.” Rick states, making her smile a bit as she looks at him. Yellow eyes bright, the setting sun shining on her through the large glass sliding doors.

“Then I guess I’m going with…since I don’t like being tranqued too much.” She mutters the end and shrugs her shoulder, tossing him an orange piece. The two of them staying quiet as they eat together.

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon…be back in a week.” Stela snorts softly and smiles as she looks up at him before shaking her head softly. Getting off the counter carefully, legs unfurling from their crossed position. Making her look like she’s slinking down, majestic almost.

“Mhm, we’ll be back in two.” She responds before heading for her living room and flicking on the television. Knowing Rick will follow her shortly, while she curls up onto the sofa.

-that night-

“After everything…you still sleep in underwear?” Rick mutters as he sees Stela exiting her room silently. Feet not making a sound on her hardwood floors. Knife in her hand as she slowly makes her way towards the sliding glass doors. Her eyes flicking to look at him; the slight glow in the dark reminding him of what she really is. Before he’s meeting her to look outside, eyes searching for anything that could have set the assassin off. She can feel the heat radiating off of him, his chest bare.

“Must have been a cat.” She mumbles sighing softly as she stands straight. Her head barely making it to the middle of his chest. Looking up at him and seeing the slightly sleepy expression on his face.

“And yes, I still sleep in panties…I don’t like the feel of pants on my legs when I’m in bed.” She tells him, turning to skirt around him for her room. He looks down at her, catching her wrist gently fingers overlapping slightly.

“Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here.”

“I know…Ranger Rick.” She teases while smiling at him softly before gently losing his hand. Going back to her room and closing the door all of the way. Letting out a deep sigh as her skin tingles from his touch. Before she’s going back to bed, burrowing herself under the three blankets. Willing herself to go to sleep, knowing she won’t for awhile. The noise outside having startled her, then the touch from Rick electrifying her. Remembering how she used to be able to crawl up next to him and drift off. Usually they’d find themselves with their pants off and rocking orgasms out of one another before sleep would overtake them. Remembering the first time he had ever touched her other than friendly.

-then-

“Is it compulsion for you? Or just pure stupidity that makes you so reckless?” Rick asks as he stands in his tent with Stela across from him. The both of them sporting fresh wounds, hot off the fight and battle that had taken place hours ago. Everyone else spread out in their tents, having created a safe perimeter for their camp site.

“I’m not stupid…and if it’s compulsory to save people then I guess I’ll die doing it.” She tells him, huffing quietly as she looks up at him. Seeing the anger behind his usually stony eyes, he was a very hard man to read the majority of the time. They had been working together for almost three years, side by side in battle. Stela having been loaned out to his task force by the US government.

“We had a mission…and you almost got both of us killed.”

“Fuck the mission Rick, and you didn’t have to follow after me.” He clenches his jaw as he looks down at her, feeling something in his stomach snap. Before he’s stepping over to her and wrapping his hand around her throat.

“I’d much rather be fucking you right now…and I’ll always come back for you.” He whispers before he’s pressing his mouth up against her’s, kissing her deeply. The smaller moaning quietly as she lets him dominate the kiss. Her hands coming up to hold onto him, heart pounding in her chest. It isn’t much longer before he’s got her down on the ground on top of his sleeping bag. Their lips meeting again in messy kisses, his body wedged between her thighs.

“Been wanting to do this for so long…just to get you to be quiet.” Rick whispers as he licks a fat strip up the side of her throat. Moaning quietly next to her ear as he grinds himself forward towards her.

“Why didn’t you?” She mumbles to him, thighs falling apart farther for him. Feeling his hands going down to undo her belt and buttons. She’s lifting her hips up for him; both of them grunting quietly as he undoes his own pants. Pushing them down enough so that he slips out of them, his length hard and thick. Tip drooling out a few beads of precum now.

“Want you to feel me for days.” He whispers in her ear as he hooks her thighs up around his waist. The smaller holding onto him as she bites into her lower lip. The two of them meeting in the middle, her thighs tensing at the intrusion. Eyes screwing shut at the stretch that’s never ending. Before he’s bottoming out and groaning next to her jaw, both of their skin damp from sweat.

“Feels so fucking good.” He grunts out to her, pulling his hips away just to snap back into her roughly. Shooting her up the sleeping bag, groaning softly he brings her hands up. Locking one over both of her wrists, securing her there and keeping her in place. His hips moving in quick pushes as he looks down at her. Seeing the way she’s fighting to keep her mouth closed, biting into her lips as she arches her back slightly.

“So fucking good for me…oh fuck sweetheart.” Rick whispers as he sits up slightly and tugs his shirt over his head. Bringing it down to stuff into her mouth, pulling her waist up so her butt is resting on his knees. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he hits her sweet spot again and again.

“That’s it…there we go.” He mumbles to himself as his head tips back, keeping up his pace as he rocks into her roughly. Feeling her squeezing around him tightly, her hands gripping the mesh underneath her. Before he’s setting a callused thumb to her clit and rubbing in tight circles. Her body quivering as she begins to release, muffled sounds coming from her mouth.

“Fuck…oh fuck Stela…that’s it…oh fuck.” Rick whispers as his toes curl before he’s pushing into her deeper and releasing. His head falling back as he groans deep in his chest, hands gripping her waist tight. Fingers sure to leave bruises that will be healed by morning, before he’s slowing his hips down. Almost collapsing on her chest, before he’s reaching up to pull the shirt out of her mouth. Connecting their lips in the softest kiss they’ve shared, almost like an apology to one another.

“Oh fuck…I didn’t pull out, I’m sorry.” Rick murmurs as he looks down between them both, slowly pulling out of her. Causing her nose to scrunch up, toes curling slightly at the over sensitivity.

“It’s alright…don’t worry about it.” She responds, both of them panting quietly as they lay next to one another. She didn’t expect to fall for him or to have her heart shattered by him. He was the reason she left the Task Force to begin with and he was the reason she was going to be coming back. If it meant keeping him safe, she’d do just about anything he asked her to.

-now-two days later-

“So what’s your deal?” Harley asks as she sits next to Stela, the woman looking up from where she’s retying her boot. Bent in half essentially in her seat as they wait for everyone to board the cargo plane.

“Who said I have a deal?” The brunette responds, adjusting herself in her seat and tightening her lap belt. The blonde lets out a laugh and smiles at her.

“Well I’m Harley Quinn.”

“Stela Cortez.” She responds letting the doctor wrap her hand in a squeeze before shaking. The dark haired woman looking over at Rick to see him chuckling quietly. Holding a little note pad with everyone written down on it. Looking up to check off people mentally, Harley, Cleo, DuBois, Abner, Diablo, Boomer, Peacemaker, Nanuae, and Stela. Before Stela rolls her eyes and rests her head back against the seat. Closing her eyelids and listening to the noises around her. Harley babbling on about a sandwich that is to die for in Gotham and that she’ll take her to try it sometime.

“So…are you just a solider? Or a prisoner like us?” Christopher asks as he looks at the brunette woman, Stela opens her eyes to look at the man. Seeing him already looking back, sizing her up as he does. Trying to figure out why she’s there with them.

“Mm 50/50.” She replies, smirking as she sees the confusion cross his features. Before Dubois is laughing softly, smiling at her while rolling his own eyes.

“Come clean Cortez…you’re not a prisoner. We’ve served together before.”

“Nah, I’ll leave them in suspense for a little longer.” She says smiling, before she looks over at Nanaue staring at her. Letting out a little growling sound, her eyes flicking to their slits. Making Nanaue let out a sound as he tries to figure her out.

“Friend?!”

“Sure bud…friend.” She says nodding softly as she looks at Rick to see him talking to DuBois now. Before she looks at Cleo, seeing Sebastian in her lap while they both look at her. Studying her, the rat’s head cocked slightly as he looks at the brunette.

“75% human, 12.5% Chinese alligator, 12.5% alligator prenasalis.” Stela says as explanation before she rests her head back against the seat again. Closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. Flag smiling softly before he looks at the coordinates again to make sure they are on track.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be cold here.” Stela growls to Rick once they are all off the plane. He chuckles quietly as he looks at her, raising his eyebrow. Seeing her rubbing her hands together slightly as she lets out a deep exhale.

“It’s 75 degrees…everyone else is sweating.”

“Diablo could make it warm for ya.” Harley offers while smiling at the two Latinos of the group. Stela looking over at him while he rolls his eyes slightly at the little psycho’s offer.

“Well I’m used to 95 degrees and 100% humidity…this shit is cold.” She responds looking back at Rick before following the rest of her comrades to the campsite they are taking over.

-3 days later-

“Well yea, why do ya think she wears layers? She’s cold blooded idiot.” Harley says smiling as she looks at Boomer, the pair of them looking at Stela. The smaller adjusting her long sleeved shirt, before she drags a flannel on over that. Her jeans insulated as well, two pairs of socks on her boot covered feet.

“Want a hat?” He calls to her, she shoots him a dirty glare, before flipping him off. DuBois rolling his eyes as well as he looks at the team.

“Piss off Boomer!” She yells to him, tugging her hair up into a high pony tail. Rick making his way over to his little army of misfits.

“Alright everyone, you’ve already been briefed on our mission. We get from point A to point B, with little casualties. Take out our target and get the hell out of dodge.” Rick says as he looks at everyone, seeing them all staring back at him. Nodding in understanding before they begin to load up their gear onto their bodies. Stela strapping a knife to her left thigh, adjusting the band before looking at Rick. Seeing him putting his guns in their place, his eyes coming up to meet her’s. The rest of them finishing up, before they are following their Colonel.

-2 days later-

“Waller is having a helo come for us tomorrow afternoon.” Rick says as he looks at his team, the majority of them needing a shower to wash away the day. Bruises forming on their skin in various places, weapons needing to be cleaned. Stela trailing back from the group, supporting her injured shoulder. Irritated with herself that she let it happen in the first place.

“I’ll get us hotel rooms…stay here.” The captain says as he goes towards the front desk, receiving the last six rooms. Making him sigh to himself, already formulating who will be with who.

“Boomer and Harley, DuBois and Cleo, Abner and Peacemaker, Nanaue and Diablo, Stela you’re with me.” He says as he looks at his crew, seeing them all nod their heads. Too tired to put up a fight, holding out hands to take keys.

“You know I’ll be healed by morning.” Stela murmurs as she and Rick head towards their room. The larger man’s body looking almost comical compared to the motel fixtures.

“I know…doesn’t mean I’m not going to look at it.” He tells her, she rolls her eyes slightly and looks up at him. Back to the door, their eyes searching each other’s faces. Before they are moving towards one another, hands grabbing for the other. Lips plastering against the other’s, a desperate edge to their need.

“Let’s…let’s get inside.” Stela mutters, letting out a needy sound in her throat as he fiddles with the key to unlock the door. Before Rick lets out a soft sound while their lips meld together again. Tumbling into the motel room while his hands grab for her hips. Stela moaning as she curls her fingers into his hair. His palms coming down to grab her thighs and pin her up against the wall. Their bodies grinding against one another, lips still locked. Chests burning for air but neither of them wanting to separate. Still high off of the fight they just had, everyone else having piled into their own hotel rooms. The two of them needing to burn off that excess steam from the battle. Falling into step just like they used to after a gruesome encounter.

“Really…fuck really should look at your shoulder.” Rick mumbles even as his lips begin to move down her jaw. Her hands holding his hair a little tighter as he gets to a sensitive spot.

“Fuck me now…check it out later.” Stela breaths back as her head tips into the wall more. Giving him ample amount of space to attack her skin. Chuckling softly he pulls away from her throat, much to her dismay before he’s looking at her. Seeing the way her vivid eyes are shining back at him, the yellow in them even brighter than normal. Before she’s pulling him in for another deep kiss, while his body goes back towards the mattress. Sitting down with her in his lap and bringing his hands around to undo the zip on her tact pants.

“Always so eager.” He mutters as her hips rock toward his hands, she lets out a little puff of air. Her stomach muscles sucking in as she looks down to see his hands moving under her shirt now. Fingers gliding up across the patches of scales on her skin. Her eyes closing slightly as she feels his hand curl around her rig cage. Before he’s tugging her shirt up and over her head.

“Quit starin’ at me.” Stela mumbles as she feels a blush heating her cheeks while he looks at her body. He moves his eyes up to her’s, smiling softly as he pulls her closer.

“You embarrassed?” He asks her, before he’s moving them both so she’s under him. His eyes staring right at her’s, seeing the way her pupils are blown. Before she’s pulling him in for a kiss, sucking on his lower lip. Teeth nibbling in before he’s sitting up slightly. Hands coming up her body to pull her bra off of her. Groaning softly as he exposes her skin to his greedy eyes. Pupils skirting across her scales shining in the dull light.

“I didn’t bring a condom.” Rick says suddenly, hands resting under her breasts. Her chest moving with her inhale, nipples hard in the cool air of the motel room.

“Well…as long as you don’t have a disease. We’ll be fine, this factory has been closed down for forever.” She says as she looks up at him, her thighs splayed out on either side of his body. Causing him to chuckle softly before he’s leaning down and licking a strip across her collar bone. Biting a mark into her skin that’ll be healed by morning. Their hands moving over one another to toss clothes this way and that. Until they are both bare, his length resting heavily against her pelvic bone. Tip dribbling wetly, while her hands hold his hair. His own sliding down her thighs to pull her up slightly, so she’s now sitting in his lap. His body resting on his calves, her hand slipping between them both.

“Jesus Christ.” She whispers when she feels how wet she is, her slick dripping down onto him. Her palm wrapping around his thickness before she’s leading him to her entrance.

“Fucking…goddammit.” Rick groans, feeling the tight squeeze of her around him. His jaw dropping slightly as his hands palm her butt, pulling her cheeks apart slightly. As she sinks all the way down on him, her jaw dropping open slightly.

“Oh my god.” She breaths as she leans her forehead into his, hands cupping the sides of his face. Feeling him slowly begin to move her up and down, grinding her against him randomly. Both of them breathing the other in, letting themselves feel the tenderness. Something neither of them usually let show, but knowing they could fully trust the other.

“You’re always so fucking tight.”

“Right, yes right there.” She whimpers suddenly when his tip glides right across her sweet spot. Pushing into it every time now, as his hands move her quicker. Both of them chasing that high, lips meeting again in a messy kiss. Saliva connecting their lower lips when they pull apart.

“I’m so close.” Stela breaths, nose scrunching as she feels his hand grabbing the scales on her thigh. Pushing up into her a little harder, tip slamming into her sweet spot. While her hand snakes down between them both to rub her clit in quick circles, her jaw dropping.

“Fuck…fuck baby.” Rick groans as he feels her squeezing even tighter around him. Her toes curling as she releases, while he works her through it. Before he’s moving her on the bed slightly, his body covering her’s. His hips pushing into her faster now, working himself closer and closer.

“Please…please Rick.” The woman begs him, feeling his tip slamming into her cervix. Her hips arching up slightly as he holds her thighs in his grasp. Getting them both up on his shoulders now, his hands moving down to her rib cage.

“I’m gonna cum…oh fuck I’m gonna cum.” The bigger man gasps out, his nose scrunching as he begins to release. Hips stuttering slightly with his rocks, jaw dropping open as he does. Grinding his waist closer to push into her harder, burying his release inside of her. Stela pants softly as she lays underneath him, his arms shaking as he tries to keep himself above her.

“C’mon big guy.” She murmurs as she gently helps him roll onto her side, the older panting softly. While he opens his eyes to look at her, seeing her already looking at him. The two of them knowing what unspoken words they want to say, but neither of them saying it. Staying quiet as the sweat cools on their skin, his arm draped across her waist.

“I should look at your shoulder now.” He whispers after a few moments of quiet, she chuckles softly and nods. Before they both go to get up and head for the small bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror she looks at herself, seeing the bruises on her skin already fading.

“It’s already trying to scab up.” Rick says as he comes to stand behind her, looking at the bruising and slice in her skin. Gently touching around it to feel for any more damaged spots. His eyes trailing over the scales running down her spine.

“I told you, I’d be okay.” He flicks his eyes up to her’s, seeing the way she’s looking at him in the mirror. Leaning in he kisses the top of her head softly, before they go to take a shower. Needing to wash away the grime of the day, wanting to be fresh for the next sunrise.

“Why’d you get some removed?” Rick murmurs as they lay in bed, the sheets pulled up to their waists. The woman on her stomach, head resting on her folded arms. Eyes closed as they both lay naked after their shower neither of them having pajamas with them, she hums softly.

“Figured I’d blend in better if I did. Just got the ones people could see taken off.” She tells him, his fingers gently touching the dark grey and green scales on her spine and rib cage. Tracing them and feeling how smooth they are when he runs his fingers a certain way. Then feeling them bristle slightly when he runs his finger tips the other way.

“Thought I was gonna die with how bad it hurt. But it was thorough, didn’t take long.” She adds on, eyes opening to look at him. Blinking slowly as she sees the soft expression on his face. He had always admired her scales, he had told her that a few times. The ones on her left bicep were more dull than the rest. Exposed to the sun more often when she was outside painting her house or running drills. The patch covering her right shoulder were a deep shade of olive green. Unlike the rest of them that were a mixture of dark grey and green. They tangled up the side of her neck to the base of her skull, but those ones were all gone now. He loved to touch the ones by her hip on the right side. And the ones on her rib cage under her left breast were his favorite to graze his lips across. These ones on her spine were always where his hand would end up when she was riding him. And the ones on her right thigh were where his hand gravitated to when he was on top of her.

“Are you happy there? In Florida?” He asks her, looking up to meet her gaze. Seeing the sleepiness behind her eyes, the yellow in them dulled down slightly. Flecks of brown ringed around her pupil.

“It’s quiet there…nobody cares who I am, what I look like. My home is away from everyone else for those bad nights. I can walk around in my underwear and a tank top without having to worry about scaring the neighbors. I can just…be.” Stela replies, shrugging softly and receiving an understanding nod from him. Before he’s leaning forward and kissing her shoulder softly. Lips pressing against her scales gently, before he’s moving them up to her cheek.

“You can always be…with me.” He whispers before he’s laying next to her to get comfortable for sleep. Knowing she’ll end up curled up on his body, needing the warmth to stay comfortable.

-1 week later-

Stela wipes her hands off on the dish towel as she makes her way to her front door. The knocking having been heard from her kitchen.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She teases after she opens her door to see Rick on the other side. A duffel bag in his hand as he looks down at her. Jeans on his hips, cowboy boots on his feet. A blue shirt covering his upper body causing his muscled biceps covered in tattoos to be shown off. Sunglasses being pushed up to the top of his head.

“Figured you wouldn’t mind if I crashed here for a bit.” She smiles softly as she opens the door more and steps aside to let him in. Following her into the house he sets his bag down by the couch. While she goes back to the kitchen, having been finishing up her dishes.

“While you’re here, can you fix the bathroom sink? It’s dripping.” Stela says, hearing him chuckle as he looks at her. Seeing the way she is peeking at him over her shoulder.

“You gonna pay me for my work?”

“Well, I can pay you in food…and other things.” She offers, making him laugh a bit as he steps over to brush his fingers across her arm. Before he’s going under the sink to grab a few tools making his way over to the bathroom. While she leans against the counter and sighs softly, listening as his footfalls take him to the washroom.

“All fixed, gonna want to replace that pipe eventually though. Looked like it was getting a little rusty.” He tells her as he sets the small tool box down onto the kitchen island. Looking up when she doesn’t respond, only to see her out on her back porch.

“So this is the trouble maker that you’ve been buying food for?” He asks as he looks down at the small black cat sitting on her porch. Accepting pets from the woman, purring deeply in his chest.

“Just got him fixed, told him he could stay outside if he wanted. But he’s got a home here if he wants that instead.” She says as she looks up at him, seeing the way he’s looking down at her. Smiling softly when she sees the kindness in his eyes.

“Thought you didn’t want any pets.”

“Well, he’s a wayward straggler, figured he won’t do any harm.” She says shrugging softly, before leaning against the side railing on her balcony. Looking out to her backyard, smelling in the heavy Florida air.

“You building something over there?” Rick asks after a few minutes, nodding off to the pile of wood on a blue tarp. She looks over and laughs quietly, taking a deep breath.

“I was replacing boards on this porch. Some of them are giving out, been replacing stuff as I go. Gotta finish painting the back and side of the house. Power washing them before I do, got myself a real fixer upper here.” She says as she looks at her home, fond eyes trailing over the sweet little fixtures. He smiles softly as he looks at her before looking back at the house himself.

“Well since you’ve already got a tab started…I guess I can help you fix more stuff around here.” Stela chuckles quietly before looking up at him, eyes soft as she leans against the railing again. The cat jumping up to receive more pets from her, his purring loud and clear.

“Waller give you a vacation?”

“Told her I was dropping off for a bit, she knows how to get ahold of me. I needed a break after that last run, lost too many people.” He tells her, she nods softly in understanding. Looking at him with soft eyes as she takes a deep breath. Seeing him looking out at the trees lining her backyard, and the grass growing.

“You deserve it, I know how hard you work.” He chuckles as he looks at her, seeing the way she’s already looking at him.

-few days later-

“Hi Clyde.” Stela says as she walks into the hardware store, seeing the old man sitting behind the counter. Rick following her in, and letting her lead him around.

“Hi Stela…brought a visitor today?” He calls as he sees the tall blond walking by her. She smiles a bit as she grabs a can of paint lacquer.

“Yea, figured I’d put him to work.” She responds, smiling as she looks up at Rick with soft eyes. He chuckles softly and grabs a few brushes, letting her lead him over to the nails. Grabbing what she needs and putting them into a paper bag, he heads over to the pipes. Looking at them and figuring out which ones will be best for her bathroom. Grabbing a couple of them, before she grabs another can of white paint just in case.

“Well, make him work. You been fixin’ up that house all by your lonesome, makin it look all pretty again.”

“Yea, almost done with the painting of it. Hoping to get the porch finished next.” She says as she looks at the old man, watching him ring stuff up. Rick smiling softly at their interaction, seeing the way Stela is at ease. Her body not so uptight, shoulders relaxed and smile easy going.

“So Colonel, I’m thinking payment tonight…steak and potatoes, maybe a few beers.” Stela says as they walk to her Jeep, the both of them heaving their items up into the back of it.

“That sounds like a plan to me.” He responds, making her smile before they both go to get into the vehicle. Heading back towards her little reservation, the radio playing a familiar tune. While wind whips around them, her curls flying around.

-that night-

Rick grunts softly as he saws through another piece of wood. Making sure they will fit the stairs, while Stela sets down her paint roller. Looking over at him, seeing the way his biceps are bulging out. Making something stir in her lower stomach, before she’s heading for the house.

“Gonna check on dinner!” She calls to him, sliding the door open and going inside. Checking on the baked potatoes, before she pulls out the marinating steaks. Stepping back onto the porch and pulling up her mini grill. Setting it onto the table out there, dumping some charcoal in it.

“Think the deck will be done in a few days.” Rick says, coming up to drink some water while Stela waits for the grill to be ready. She looks up at him, smiling softly and nodding her head.

“I think so too, thank you.” He finishes off his bottle of water, putting the cap back on and letting out a long sigh. Before he looks at her, seeing the way her eyes are focused in on the grill.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” He replies, she nods softly and looks at the grill. Deeming it to be perfect before she goes in to grab the steaks. Coming back out and placing them down, moaning softly at the sizzle of them.

“Look who’s returned.” Stela says smiling as the cat she has lovingly named Dexter hops up onto the deck, carrying a dead mouse in his mouth.

“And he’s brought a gift.” Rick states scrunching his nose slightly when the cat comes over to Stela. Rubbing up against her leg gently before laying by her feet. The woman chuckling softly as she looks down at the cat and then up at Rick.

“A dead mouse bothers you?”

“No, the fact that he looks proud of his kill is a little unnerving.” She laughs again and smiles as she drinks from her wine glass. The Colonel also smiling, enjoying the domesticity between them both.

“I’ll do dishes, you cooked.” Rick states, the two of them carrying their plates and silverware into the house. The brunette smiling softly as she looks up at him, nodding a bit.

“You wash, I’ll dry.” She offers, he chuckles a bit as they both fall into an easy rhythm. Moving around one another until she’s perched on the counter drying off dishes that he’s freshly washed. Rick feeling something brewing in his heart, making him look up at the smaller. Watching as she puts away one of the final plates, seeing the soft sunlight hitting her skin. Making her look angelic, and to him she really was.

“I’m gonna go take a shower…wash away the grim of the day. Thank you for doing dishes…Ranger Rick.” Stela says squeezing his hand softly as she gets off of the counter and heads for her bathroom.

“You mind if I join?” Rick asks as he leans into the bathroom, seeing Stela halfway undressed. She chuckles softly and turns her head a bit to look at him.

“Figured you’d ask, c’mon.” She responds, he smiles before stepping in and beginning to strip out of their clothes. She steps into the warm water first, letting out a soft sigh. Eyes closing as she lets it run over her body, before he’s coming in behind her.

“Jesus woman…if it’s any hotter it’ll boil you alive.” He mutters as he feels the spray hitting his feet, she chuckles softly and smiles. Turning her body towards his, enjoying the feel of the water hitting her scales.

“I like it hot.”

“I know you do.” He responds before he’s leaning in and kissing her softly. Cupping the side of her face and tugging her just a little closer to himself. Their bodies both under the spray now, before she’s sucking on his lower lip. And letting go, trailing kisses down his jaw, sucking his earlobe between her teeth and biting down. The smaller slowly sinks to her knees in front of him, being met by his half hard length. Her hand wrapping around him before her tongue is flattening out to lick him from base to tip.

“You know you don’t have to…” Rick cuts himself off with a moan as she swallows his tip. His hand falling to the back of her head, eyes closing as he moans. Hips jerking slightly as she holds him a little closer with hands on his thighs. Rocking her mouth up and down on him as he groans above her. The spray from the shower head coming down on his back, protecting her from getting any in her eyes. While she works his cock in and out of her mouth, moaning on him softly. A warmth starting between her thighs before she brings a hand down to cup herself.

“Gonna eat your pussy after this…make you cum again and again.” Rick mutters out to her, moaning again as she whimpers against him. Sinking down so his tip lodges into the back of her throat.

“Oh fuck…if you keep doing that, I’m gonna blow.” He groans as he rocks his hips forward slightly, holding the back of her head a little tighter. She moans around him, letting him push into her mouth as far as he wants.

“Fuck…fuck sweetheart, that’s oh fuck.” He whispers as his length throbs, tapping the back of her throat again. Before he’s pulling out of her mouth, and hauling her up onto her feet.

“You better get your ass to the bedroom…otherwise I might be liable to spank it red.” He states before kissing her lips harshly, she all but topples out of the shower. Grabbing her towel as she hurries out of the bathroom, Rick smiling as he cuts the water off. Stepping out and picking up his own towel, drying himself off slightly as he follows her wet foot prints to her bedroom.

“You’re gonna sit on my face…and let me get my fill of your sweet little pussy.”

“Are you at least gonna let me keep sucking your cock? I didn’t get my fill yet.” She says as she looks up at him, he hums softly and looks down at her. Before he’s climbing up onto the bed, situating himself up by the headboard. She clambers up onto his body, spreading her legs and feeling her core clench around nothing.

“Bet your dripping for me aren’t you?” He asks her, seeming like he’s talking more to himself than to her. Groaning quietly as she places herself over his face. Flattening his tongue he swipes it up through her folds, her slick coating his taste buds. Stela moaning quietly before she’s lowering down towards his length, thick and hard against his pelvic bone. Drooling out beads of precum onto his skin, she licks the spot before wrapping her lips around him. Feeling the resounding groan come from his lips, the two of them working the other over.

“R Rick!” The brunette gasps out, toes curling next to his head as he sinks two fingers into her. Searching for that spot that makes her insides spasm out of control. His lips still wrapped around her clit while she abandons his cock. In favor of grinding her hips down slightly while he works her closer to her release.

“Oh god…yes don’t stop. Please, I’m, fuck I’m cumming.” She almost squeaks out when she hits the precipice, crescendoing up into it. While she digs her blunt nails into the skin on his lower abdomen. Rick groaning against her clit as his length twitches and leaks some more.

“Fuck…Jesus Christ, the things you do with that mouth should be illegal.” She pants out once he’s ridden her through her high, and she’s twitching slightly as she pulls away. Moving around to lean down and kiss him, sucking on his lower lip while he rolls them around.

“Honestly your pussy should be illegal…but here we are.” He says quietly as he hikes her legs up onto his waist. Peering up at her to see the way she’s splayed out on the bed underneath him. Their eyes meeting while she nods softly, giving him that last bit of confirmation he needs. Before he’s sinking inside of her in a deep thrust, their bodies connecting again.

“Always feels so fucking good.” The blond mutters out, latching his lips to the hinge of her jaw and sucking. Rocking his waist in even strokes as he tries to tend to the fire in his own stomach. Wanting to make it last but knowing he won’t be able to. Especially after the performance she put on in the bathroom. Their bodies molding and melding together, her hands gripping onto him.

“Right, yea right there. Feels so good.” She sighs out, his tip knocking into her sweet spot again. Her core clenching every time, clit throbbing slightly as she feels the way her belly knots up.

“Are you gonna cum around my cock? Huh? Gonna be a good fucking girl and cum for me?” He asks, biting down onto her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth slightly. Feeling the goosebumps rising on her skin as she nods dumbly underneath him.

“R Rick…don’t stop please…yes right there.” She gasps out as her toes curl and her nose scrunches up. Her hips arching slightly, before he’s wedging a hand between them both. Strumming her clit with his thrusts, letting his waist dictate the majority of his movements.

“Holy shit.” She groans out as she arches her lower back, hitting another orgasm. Her hand gripping onto his shoulder, jaw dropping open while he groans. Feeling the way she spasms around him before he’s beginning to cum. Burying it inside of her with stuttery strokes, his own muscles locking up.

“Fucking hell.” Rick mutters once they’ve both come down, the pair of them laying next to each other. Bodies tacky with dried sweat, chests having stopped their heaving.

“You could say that again.” The woman replies while smiling softly and looking at him. Seeing the sleepy look to her eyes while he smiles softly. Leaning in and kissing her plush lips gently, feeling her kiss him back. Those little words unsaid between them both before they are both getting up on shaky legs to clean up…again.

-later that night-

“Stela?” Rick murmurs as the two of them lay in the woman’s bed, naked under the sheets pulled up to their waists. The brunette hums quietly as she tilts her head up to look at him. Her arms folded under her head, belly down on the mattress.

“Why did you leave?” Her eyes open slowly to look up at him, seeing him intensely staring at the shapes he’s tracing on her bare skin. Scales shiny in the dim lighting, while he moves over them softly.

“Because I couldn’t watch you blindly follow Waller’s orders…knowing what she was doing to you with June. I couldn’t do it anymore.” She responds, he nods softly and looks up at her. Seeing the emotion in her yellow eyes, something she tried very hard to never show. She had been raised by government scientists, in a lab doing god only knows what to her. To show emotion meant you were weak, and being weak meant you died. But, her eyes were her weakness, they were like windows to her emotions. Showing off how she truly felt about something, all Rick had to do was give her a look and he’d know.

“I thought about you every day…made Waller tell me where you were.”

“I kept tabs on you…you’re easier to follow than you realize. I’ve kept tabs on the majority of you, Floyd and Zoe, they send me cards every now and then. Harley knows my house is a safe place for her, unless she’s committed like a mass murder then it’s questionable. But to be fair…I never hid from you Rick. I just stayed away.” He looks up at her again, seeing the way the moon is shining on her eyes. The yellow looking vibrant and even more like melted honey pots. Before he’s leaning in and pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade.

“Please don’t stay away again.” He whispers, feeling her shifting slightly to lay on her back now. Her hands gently cupping the sides of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. His hand coming up to her wrist and circling around it, breathing the other in.

“Just stay with me.”

“Okay.” She murmurs back to his soft plea, lips finding one another again. Gentle and soft under the moonlight in the room, bodies bracketing together on unspoken words and declarations.

-3 weeks later-

“Stela!” Harley says smiling as the brunette comes onto the helo. Looking up from where she’s adjusting her knife on her side. She rolls her eyes softly and smiles when the other woman pats the empty seat next to her.

“Hi Harls.” She responds chuckling a bit as she accepts a kiss on the cheek. Rick coming up onto the plane next, looking out at his crew. Seeing Harley, Stela, Boomer, DuBois, Weasel, and Peacemaker all waiting for him. Smaller group, meaning a more covert mission.

“We’ve all been briefed, we have 36 hours to be in and out. Meaning no fucking slip ups, we’re wheels up in 5. Make sure you’re strapped in.” He states as he looks at them all again, before he goes to find his seat towards the front by the pilots. Stela strapping herself in and listening to Harley rambling at her still. It isn’t long before they are in the air and soaring, Stela’s stomach churning. She hated flying, it was one of her least favorite things about missions. Listening to Harley helped, the woman never seeming to stop talking. It made Stela wonder if she was breathing properly or if she could just go on empty like a faithful car.

“10 minutes and we’re landing, everyone gear up.” Rick says as he comes down the walkway now, looking at everyone. All of them unbuckling and going to find the gear pieces they’d need for the mission. Stela rising from her seat last and taking a deep breath, knowing she had everything she needs. Everyone taking their places to begin to descent down to where they need to be.

“DuBois, you take Boomer around the right flank, Harley you’re with me around the front, and Stela you’ve got Weasel and Peacemaker for the back. You’re our last line of defense don’t let anyone get out. This is covert, we get in and we get out.” Rick says before everyone is nodding and breaking into their groups. DuBois, Stela, and Rick all putting in their ear pieces. And that’s the last thing that happens before it turns into an utter disaster…per the norm. It isn’t until later when everyone is back on the helo that Rick feels the rage filling him. Usually he was very calm and collected after a shit show of a mission. But this time, he can feel his blood boiling, all because of a certain brunette woman.

“R Rick, god right there.” Stela whimpers out her body jerking with his movements. His elbows hooked under her knees as he pushes into her harshly. Keeping her thighs open for his punishing movements. He was mad at her, she had disobeyed a direct order. Had gone out and almost got herself killed, right in front of his very eyes. As soon as he had gotten her back to the hotel room they were renting for the night before going back to Florida he had her pinned up against the wall. Started with a hand on her throat and now her she was essentially stripped down while he was fully dressed. His jeans the only thing slightly askew, opened enough to let his cock come out.

“Bossing me around? Who’s in charge here sweetheart?” He grits as he grinds his hips in a dirty roll. Listening to the way the gasp catches in her throat when his tip smashes against her sweet spot. Punching the pleasure from her as her head tips back to hit the wall in a thunk.

“You gonna answer me? Or am I gonna have to stop?” She brings her head up quickly, shaking it and whining in her throat. Reaching forward for him to hold the back of his head. Her body still bouncing with his hard thrusts, his length spearing her open. The t-shirt she’s wearing unbuttoned in the front, fanning out around her. Keeping her scales protected from the wall, he didn’t want to hurt her…too much.

“You’re in charge…I’m sorry, you’re in charge.” She breaths against his mouth, jaw dropping open as he rams into her again. Her toes curling as she feels her stomach dropping with her impending orgasm.

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum.” He hums smiling as he keeps up his brutal pace. The sound of their skin meeting filling the space between them.

“N no please, please I’m so close. Please let me cum, Rick please.” She babbles at him, begging on the tip of her tongue. Muscles quivering as she tries to keep a hold of herself. But utterly failing as he takes her apart slowly piece by piece.

“Then cum on my cock…show me how much you need it.” Rick tells her, feeling his own release creeping up on him. While he pushes his hips up into her harder, tip pushing right up against her cervix.

“I’m…god yes, I’m cumming.” Stela gasps out as she begins to release, her jaw dropping open. Her walls squeezing him so tight he can barely move. Her release dribbling around him, making a lewd wet sound as he smacks into her. Balls meeting her skin as he pounds into her, his tip smashing into her cervix now.

“You wanna feel me cumming in your tight little pussy? Wanna feel it dripping out of you while I hold you just like this?” He growls at her, so close to his release. Feeling her nod against his forehead, her fingers tugging his hair. Before she’s kissing him messily, sucking and biting at his lower lip. Staccato gasping sounds leaving her mouth as he hits her sweet spot. She swore she could feel him in her belly, she was pretty sure if she looked down she’d see him. And he seemed to have the same thought, as his head tilts down.

“Fuck sweetheart…can you feel me right there?” He asks her, punching his hips up again and swearing that he can see his tip through her belly. Poking out below her belly button as he continues his assault on her insides. Working them both up towards their impending releases.

“I’m…Rick I’m gonna cum again.” She whimpers out, her nose scrunching as she feels pressure building up in her belly. Her hips trying to pull away from his incessant thrusts, his elbows hooked under her knees not allowing that. His hands holding her sides as he keeps up his pounding. Before her head is falling back, her jaw dropping open on a soundless cry. While she releases, squirting out across his pelvic bone and thighs. Dripping down to the floor in a small puddle under her bouncing body.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck that’s it sweetheart.” Rick groans out as he begins to lose his rhythm, his lower stomach twisting with pleasure. Balls tightening as he looks up at her, seeing the silent tears of pleasure rolling thickly down her cheeks.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy baby…fuck, fuck I’m cumming.” He grits out, nose scrunching as he begins to pump her full. Grinding his hips in dirty rolls, his pelvic bone pushing up against her clit. Sending aftershocks of painful pleasure through her body.

“Fucking Christ.” He whispers once he’s caught his breath, slowly pulling his hips back and looking down. His cock slipping out of her, followed by his release making it to the floor in her previous mess. His arms slowly moving to wrap her legs around his waist securely, hands holding under her butt now.

“If you ever pull dumb shit like that again…I swear to god. You won’t be able to sit for a week.” Rick says quietly once they have both caught their breath, she opens her eyes. Smiling softly as she looks at him, bringing his face up to her’s.

“Yes Colonel…although…I may just have to do dumb shit like that again if this is how it’s going to end.” She states making him look up at her before he’s leaning in and kissing her slowly. Moving closer to her, not giving a damn if he’s stepping in the small puddle underneath them.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again…I thought I was going to lose you.” She bumps her nose against his gently, letting him know she’s there with him.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy…it’ll take a lot more than that to throw me out of the fight.” They share a deep kiss, putting words and emotions that neither of them can verbally say to one another.

-4 months later-

It was an absolute shit show at Jötunheim, had been since they first landed in Corte Maltese. Less than 24 hours ago, Stela didn’t even know Rick was going to be on the same continent as her. Much less be on the same mission as her, she was furious with Waller more so than she usually was.

“Rick! Goddammit, Rick!” Stela cries as she tries to pry the beam pierced through her leg out of herself. Watching as Peacemaker and Rick both battle it out, having heard the yell of ‘They experimented on children!’ from her lover before she went to find out what was wrong. Having fallen through three floors only to land on a broken metal pipe was not what Stela had planned at all. And now watching as the man she cared for fighting with someone who matched his every skill set. Was like a form of torture she could have never conjured up.

“Rick! Fuck…fuck goddammit! Someone help!” She tries again, feeling the way blood is dripping down her tact pants to the dusty ground. Before she’s lifting her head up to see Rick on top of Peacemaker. Seeming to have the upper hand before he’s suddenly stiffening his entire body.

“Rick!” She screams watching as he slowly slumps off to the side, Christopher moving himself around. Numbness begins to overtake after that, looking at the blond as he makes eye contact with her. It’s a blur of events after that, DuBois and Cleo both having come to help her. DuBois firing off the kill shot while he stands in front of the woman to protect her. Lifting her up before they are running, well limping in Stela’s case. Fighting a giant star fish and watching Harley go for a swim inside of it still didn’t fully register for her. None of it did until they were standing together, Abner holding his side from having dodged falling debris. Cleo holding Sebastian close while she stands by Robert. Nanuae standing there, oblivious as always but happy to be apart of the gang. Harley soaked to the bone while she stands by Stela and Robert as well. The hybrid looking back at the fallen building, feeling the way her heart shatters.

“I have to go back for him. Even…even if he’s gone, he deserves to be buried at home.” She says, voice cracking slightly before she clears her throat. Looking at DuBois and trying to hide her tears, seeing him already looking at her.

“Cleo, Abner, and Nanuae, secure transport for us all. Harley we’re going with Stela.” He says after a few moments, the three of them beginning to make there way around rubble. The brunette’s hand coming up to touch the necklace chain on her skin. Feeling the weight of the dog tags sitting there, knowing two lay there. A complete set was what Rick told her when he slid her’s down by his own, before it was draped around her neck.

“How long?” DuBois asks as they make their way into the destroyed building, Harley having ventured off on a different route to meet in the middle.

“This time? Since after the first mission I came back for…all together? Off and on for almost as long as we’ve known each other.” The older nods his head softly, beginning to move chunks of concrete around. The two of them quiet as they search for the Colonel, Harley not far from them now.

“I hear…I hear a heart beat.” Stela says after they’ve been searching for almost two hours. The other three having come back to help them as well. Soria having helped secure them a bus to drive to the airport for a lift back to the states.

“Follow it girl.” Harley responds watching as she lets her shoulders drop. Dipping into that more primitive side of herself as she searches out the man she’s bared her soul to.

“He’s here, he’s down here.” She states suddenly as she begins moving bricks and rubble away. Everyone gathering around to join her, tears filling her eyes. The fear gripping her heart like a frostbitten hand curled around like a vice. The last few bricks being pulled away to show off the side of Rick’s face.

“Be careful pulling him out, that’s it careful!” DuBois says as they all drag him out, Stela’s hands curled around his gun holsters. Tugging with as much strength as she has to spare, his body all but toppling onto her’s.

“Nanuae can you carry him to the bus?” Cleo asks as she looks at the giant shark man, seeing him looking at the group. Before he’s going to lift Rick into his arms, like the 6’3 heavily muscled man weighs nothing.

“Come on honey…let’s get you home too.” Harley says as she goes to help Stela up off the ground, the woman leaning into her slightly as she does. The misfit crew all making their way to the bus, Rick laid out in the back. While Abner and Cleo bicker slightly about how to drive a vehicle this large, Naunaue sitting down now. Harley climbing up, followed by DuBois and then Stela last. The hybrid making her way up, feeling the exhaustion overtaking her slightly. Laying next to Rick on the ground she lets out a soft breath, eyes closing. Leaning her head closer to his ear, she feels the tears welling again.

“I’ll always be with you.” She whispers, letting her head rest by his before she’s losing the battle with exhaustion. Her eyes closing while DuBois wraps up her leg to keep pressure on it, Abner driving now. Everyone relatively quiet as they digest everything that has happened.

-1 week later-

“I would be very wise with your next steps.” Stela warns as she sits in Rick’s darkened hospital room, her eyes opening when the footsteps stop. Looking up she sees two of Waller’s people standing in the doorway. Slowly rising from her chair she makes her way over to them.

“If you two aren’t here to hand over retirement benefits then I’d suggest you tuck tail and run. Because if you don’t…well I’d hate to see what I could do with the pen in his pocket.” The blonde woman gulps softly as she looks at the trained weapon, while John looks down at her too. Seeing the deadly look in her eyes, knowing she won’t hesitate to stab both of them in the jugular.

“Don’t worry…”

“We’re leaving now.” The blonde woman says before she’s tugging the other man out of the room quickly. The door closing again before the brunette turns on her heel. Her leg almost completely healed now except for some deep muscle pain. Any other injuries she had were something of the past now. Making her way over the the large man in the almost too small bed she brushes his hair from his forehead gently. Kissing his skin softly and heading back for the chair she’s barely left since he got moved into this room three days ago.

“You’re scary when you’re mad.” Rick says quietly after a few moments, making the woman chuckle softly. And look up at him, seeing him slowly moving around before she’s heading back over to him.

“Gotta bare your teeth if you’re going to fight a beast like Waller.” She murmurs, taking a deep breath and leaning in to rest her forehead on his softly. Not wanting to put pressure anywhere else on him. The man having gone through a heart surgery, blood transfusions, constant around the clock care those first few days post op.

“Stela…” Rick begins, the woman opening her eyes to look down at him with gentle eyes. Something she never considered herself to have, always thinking the yellow in them made them piercing. But Rick would argue that when the brown flecks became softer it made her orbs look like melted honey.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” They whisper to one another at the same time, letting it travel across the barely there open space. Soaking it in, knowing the words had been a long time coming for them both. But also knowing they didn’t need to say it as they had shown it time and time again to the other.

#rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag smut #Rick flag being Rick flag #rick flag fluff #rick flag angst #Rick flag x metahuman

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haruhi1087 · 4 years

Text

UA Dorms

Ok, first and foremost a huge thank you to my discord ppl for helping me figure this all out and find screenshots because I swear Hori was drunk when he made these dorms and I eventually just gave up, but we did figure a lot out!

So here y’all go. I use this dorm layout for Zero-verse, but not for Last Black because I hadn’t figured it all out by that point.

The Common Area:

The Zero-Verse Room Assignments:

Below the line is my huge rant explaining the dorm layout and why Horikoshi had to be drunk when he made it. Seriously, it’s months later now and I’m still bitter about how long this took to figure out. I hope this post helps all other fic writers and spares y’all the pain we went through.

So let’s start with what we can learn from the outside of the dorms.

Ok, so first off after the third floor the building splits at the front! That’s why when they’d doing their tour they have to go all the way back downstairs after that point and then come back up. Also important are the two doorways! The dorm is split by gender and the two doorways reflect that. However! The boys and girls do not have to enter separate doors and there is no wall downstairs that separates that area by gender. I’ll get to how we know that in a second. First! Here’s the actual dorm layout:

Alright, here’s where that ‘no common area at the front of the building’ becomes important. First off, there are definitely walls here separating the rooms by gender. The fact that there is no middle area on the 4th and 5th floors tells us that Kouda, Jiro, Mineta, Momo, Souji, and Uraraka have to be the ones by the elevators. The elevators have to be able to go up to the fourth and fifth floor, but the front part of the building doesn’t have a common area where the elevators would go. We also have seen the front left and front right and there’s nowhere for an elevator to be. Also yes, those would be split by gender too, and there would be two of them in the back of the building.

Proof #1 that Hori was Drunk: Mineta’s room. Alright, Mineta *should* be by the elevators because he’s in the back. His room during the dorm tour *is* at the end of a hallway, but that hallway has a blank wall (see below). In addition, the girls very clearly walk away from his room to go to the other end of the hallway in order to go to the elevators, which we can even see. So either this layout is wrong, or the dorm tour is wrong. I chose the dorm tour and think Hori switched it for the “comedic” effect of the girls running from Mineta, which would be harder to do if his room was right next to the elevator.

Alright! Now for the left side, which is the area of the common room that we know the most about.

Alright, presuming that the translator for the manga has the plurals here correct, then the dorms have 1 dining area for everyone, but 2 laundry rooms and 2 baths, presumably split by gender.

In the front left, we have a large sitting area with two couches, four chairs, and one table. Then further back we have the dining area and kitchen, along with two small doorways in the back. I’ll get to those in a second with a closer pic, but for now let’s focus on the sitting area and turn to another pic:

Ok! So where is this in the common area? If you compare the columns, that tells us that those are the same windows as the ones on the left side. The wall/window next to shoji looks a little different than the one in the earlier pic, but honestly that could easily be hori being understandably lazy in a panel with a lot of busy details. That means that this gathering occurs right in front of the dorm’s front doors. Which means that there are no gender separating walls at the front of the common area. In other words, it doesn’t matter which front door the boys and girls use.

Also! We’ve seen most of the front area, and these scenes would take up a huge amount of space. If anyone was holding out for the elevators being up here to make sense of Mineta’s floating room, there’s just not enough space here for elevators.

Now in the Xmas pic we have four couches and two tables, and who knows how many chairs, honestly. It also looks like they’ve gotten a table or two from the dining area to put food on. What’s notable here is that this is double the seating arrangement we had in that left corner. The left corner itself now looks empty except for a christmas tree. The easiest solution for the doubled furniture is that there is a lounge at the front right side that exactly mirrors the lounge on the front left side. They’ve moved all the furniture to the center for a big Christmas party. Yay!

Alright! One mystery solved and we know *something* about the right side of the common area despite the fact that we’ve never seen it in canon. Now for the close up on the other half of the left side:

Alright so we have three tables with four chairs each, letting twelve students eat there at a time. The kitchen is small—there’s no island or anything like that, just the one big counter and shelves. EDIT: @raunchyredriot pointed out that we get a better overall pic of the kitchen and tables above in the pic of the full left side, which means this is zoomed in on the island in the upper left and the second row of tables. So the kitchen at least has a sink area, fridge, island, and some cabinets, and the dining area has six tables in three rows, seating 24 students.

Now for the puzzling part—the back doorways and that sound effect at the top. The sound effect is for running on stairs, and we see Deku sprint out a second later. Now Deku would come from the *right* side of the dorms since he’s a guy, not the left, which is what side we have here. That means there is no wall separating guys from girls at the back of the dorms, even though the baths are there. In a western society and with Mineta in the group, that seems like a terrible idea, but it’s honestly fairly common practice in Japan for doorways to be right next to each other like this. That half curtain is also very normal for bath doorways, so that tells us the baths are there, despite the fact that the elevator screenshots from about make it look like the elevators should be moved further inward. *aka Proof that Hori was Drunk #2.*

Now where are the stairs that Deku is running down? My best guess is that they’re at the back of the garden. There’s no room for them anywhere else in the back of the building, so it’s a process of elimination thing.

Which still leaves the elevators and laundry rooms. Now since there are two of those, it doesn’t make sense to put them on the right side, but maybe the translator got it wrong and there is only one laundry room and it’s on the right side. I think it could just as easily be that the laundry rooms are small with stacked washer and dryers on the left side of that small doorway we see on the back left. At the back of that little room would then be the elevators leading up to all the dorm rooms.

Now, things we know about the right side: seating area at the front. Elevators, baths, and laundry in the back (or laundry only on the right and parallel to the dining area). Or maybe two laundry areas and they’re both on the right side, and it just ignores the parallelism of the rest of the building. We also know that the right has no parallel dining area.

What could be there? Maybe a door to the garden. We know the area in the middle of the building is one and someone would have to have access to it to tend the plants, but we see plenty of pictures of the left wall and there’s no door there or at the front. If the stairs are at the back of the garden, there’s either a door at the base of the stairwell or there’s a door on the right side.

Other than that, who knows? Maybe hori will show us one day, but I’m not holding my breath. He doesn’t seem to want to think about the dorm layout too much. For my layout, I put a small gym there because it’s a heroics program and that makes sense to me.

If anyone has other ideas, feel free to reblog and add on to this or to reply and share! And fic writers, feel free to steal my layout :D :D I’m making this post to hopefully spare others the pain of decoding Hori’s mess.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #ua dorms #ua dorm layout #zero-verse #My writing #bnha dorms #bnha dorm layout #fic research

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leland-chapman-the-bounty-hunter · 3 years

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Murder Under The Cold Moon

So, I wrote a short story for my creative writing class. Underneath the cut is like the third (?) draft of it. It sits at about 4.8k words at the moment and I think that there might be some more content that I could add to it. Other than that, I think that is it.

TW for depictions of violence-none of it graphic & mentions of underage drug use.

Duke was never one to find his place with the other children on the street. It not like he couldn't just go up to them and ask them to play. They would easily bring him into his group. But he never felt connected to any of them, honestly. The kids were a few years younger than him. Just starting first grade or kindergarten while he was nearing middle school. They were just other kids that his mom forced him to play with whenever she was in sight. But since she wasn't, he wasn't about to pretend to play with these children. The ones who really only played with him because their parents forced them to do so.

Rather, his pants were rolled up to his ankles and his sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His shoes were half a mile down the creek and his jacket a mere quarter of a mile downstream. The water neared body temperature and if you were already in the water by the time its temperature started rising, you didn't feel it at all. Duke's hands finished in the water for tadpoles. Each time he dipped them in, his hands came out as red as a tomato but only a few degrees warmer than his skin. Not too hot but just warm enough to feel a difference.

Duke rummaged around in the water for a few more minutes before he came up empty-handed again. He had heard the frogs at night, so why were there no tadpoles? Were they just too far away for him to get to them? The calls of the other children neared. His cue to pack up and leave even though he wanted to wade in the water alone for a bit more. Duke rushed back to his clothing. The mud clinging to his feet with every step he took until the mud-caked on his feet was nearly a pound of extra weight.

Duke pulled himself up the bank and to the top of the drop-off. His church jacket-a light beige in color and too thick for the weather outside-was in the place he last put it, hanging on a small oak tree branch that still had some bend to it. He stomped off the mud as best as he could, wiping what little was left of the mud onto the grass. Duke only had to walk a bit before his dress shoes came into view. Then, his house which lay on the right side of the creek a mile and a half from where Duke had been before the kids had come. Even from all the way back where he was, he could see the smiles on their still chubby cheeks. No more than four years younger than Duke right now.

"Duke," His mother chastised as he walked through the door and into the mudroom where he began stepping down to his underwear. "I thought I told you not to play in the creek today."

"No, you said not to play in the creek tomorrow. That's when Charlie is coming."

"I said Sunday, Duke. Sunday. Not Monday." His mother let out a sigh. "I'll go put out some more Sunday clothes for you but no more playing outside, do you hear me? I want you to look nice when your cousin gets here."

It wasn't like Duke needed to make a good first impression on Charlie. He had already made the first impression when the whole family had a reunion at Kings Island and he threw up on Charlie after one of those tilt-a-whirl rides. Even though he barely remembered the memory, only the stories, Charlie had still been old enough at the time that he would remember the incident with more clarity than he did.

Duke placed his dirty clothes into the washer with the rest of the clothes that waited to be washed. From there, he headed to the bathroom to wash what little mud remained on his body. His own room connected to the bathroom much like his mother and father's room was. Soon, the number of toothbrushes would go from three to four with the arrival of his cousin. He wasn't all too sure about how he felt. On one hand, he was excited to see the cousin that he had seen so long ago. On the other, he wondered if Charlie would even feel the need to come out of his room. That he really only needed to come out for mealtimes and that Duke wouldn't see him for the year that he stayed at their house. Like a ghost that they couldn't get rid of.

His father said he was a troublemaker. That he had been sent here to straighten up as a last resort before he was off to military school. Charlie could not have been that bad. The last time Duke saw him, he was still blonde-haired and blue-eyed. The spitting image of Captain America. They only really saw each other at family reunions and those stopped back when Charlie was around eight or nine. His mother and father wouldn't tell him why How bad could he have messed up in the year or two since he had last seen him? Duke knew he had been raised in nearly the same God-fearing household as Duke did.

Duke wandered into his room. His eyes fixated on the small suit that had been laid out in front of him on his bed. Duke didn't struggle with putting it on. He had spent too many Sundays he now spent putting one on for church. Ever since he could dress, he had been tasked with doing it himself. His parents are too busy to help him anymore. Even if he wanted help, he wouldn't be able to get it since there was going to be a new arrival coming to the house was so soon. His mom was portably putting

"Duke!" His mother called from somewhere in the house. "Charlie and his family just pulled up. Get to the door!"

Duke hurried to the front door. Did he look okay? He checked himself in the mirror that hung above the bench one last time before he turned to the front door. His hair did not have a single strand out of place. His hair was still gelled back from that morning's service. Would his aunt and uncle recognize him if he opened the door? They had to, right? He didn't think he had changed all that much between when they last saw him and now. The car doors slammed shut. A rush of adrenaline ran through Duke's body. Three shadows appeared in front of the frosted glass. Duke rushed to place his hand on the cool metal of the doorknob before they did. Duke flung open the door with a little more ferocity than he would have liked.

Charlie now sported long, black hair. His jeans ripped and his eyeliner muddied. The leather jacket he wore looked new as if he had just bought it. Long gone were the days of a weirdly patriotic love for America that his blue eyes and blonde hair once said. It looked like he would end up kicking a kitten while it was down instead of picking it up off of the ground and carrying it five miles to the vet as Duke had once heard about him. Charlie looked like the kind of man that Duke's mom told him to stay far away from when they walked through the city. A far cry from the stories his mother would tell him when His face hardened with the rebellious teen years that Duke was only a few years away from.

"Well hello there Duke." His aunt smiled down at him. Her hair was just as blonde as Charlie's once was. "We haven't seen you in a while, it's been what? Two years?"

Duke's mom and dad rushed in before he could answer and ushered his aunt and uncle into the living room which left only Charlie and Duke to ponder in silence while awaiting further instruction. Charlie didn't look all too rebellious. Nor did he look like he was worried about the possibility of being shipped off to military school next summer if he didn't shape up. His face was stone cold. Tired, almost. Even though the drive from his aunt and uncle's house wasn't that far. Duke's mother soon came back with a smile on her face still. Her smile was surely more painted on than real.

"Please show Charlie to the guest room. We'll have dinner at five."

Duke began his walk in the opposite direction as his parents. Charlie's footsteps followed a bit later. The guest room was right across from Duke's and had stood empty aside from a bed for as long as he could remember. Only a few months ago had there been additions of a bookshelf and a dresser. Duke flung open the door to the room with a smile painted over his face and gestured for Charlie to take a few steps inside. His suitcase landed on the bed as he passed it. His hands rested on it for a few seconds before he began flinging the clothes across the room towards the dresser.

"So you're going to be my new roommate for a while." Charlie turned towards Duke. "Or I am going to be your new roommate."

Duke forced a smile as he continued to watch Charlie unpack his only suitcase. His backpack was just as thick as his suitcase and filled with books and records. Though, he had no record player to play them on. Everything from Prince to Guns N Roses. Charlie placed them onto the desk with a smile as if they were his best friends and he hadn't seen them in a while. It was odd but Duke wasn't about to call Charlie weird for it. Duke was the one who didn't talk to the local children because he'd rather find tadpoles that were 'too icky' for him. Charlie turned back to Duke and gestured to them for Duke to flip through a few of them.

"You can take one and listen to them if you'd like." Charlie seemed so nonchalant about it. He flung the last of his clothes-all of them black in color-towards the dresser.

"Mom wouldn't like it if I listened to these. She says they're of the devil."

"So I bet she doesn't let you play one of these then, either." Duke turned to see what Charlie was talking about. He held up a Gameboy. Duke shook his head. "Well then, your parents really are no fun."

"Dinner!"

His mother's voice echoed down the hallway and towards the pair. He had lifted one to inspect it even further. Duke nearly dropped the record in that he had in his hands to the ground. Charlie jumped from his spot at the edge of the bed and crossed the room in a matter of milliseconds. He turned from the window with a speed that Duke had never seen. What? How did he move that fast? Duke had never seen someone move that fast before in his life. He didn't even think that it was possible.

"Come on, dinner is ready. Don't be late."

Duke moved towards his mother's voice. But Charlie wasn't behind him. Charlie did not leave his room. Duke didn't hear his footsteps behind him as Duke made his way into the dining room. He shrugged. Charlie would have to come out eventually since he would eventually get hungry. He would have to get hungry sometimes. Duke's mother sat down at the table after putting the finishing touches on the dinner table. The ham steamed as did the mashed potatoes and gravy. Duke didn't even think he heard his mother heat up the asparagus in the microwave. He guessed he was too busy talking to Charlie to hear anything else. He was just ready to eat but his mom outstretched his hand towards him. Duke took her hand without thinking. Now the real praying could begin. They all bowed their heads down in silent prayer.

"I knew he'd want to unpack." Duke's aunt rolled her eyes. "You'll have to excuse him. His manners have seemed to have evaded him as he's gotten older."

"He seems like a sweet enough kid. I wouldn't put it past him to just want to unpack and decompress from the car ride here."

Charlie's dad bowed his head over the food once more. His hands folded in front of him. His lips moved fast. Too fast for any

"He's definitely not sweet," Charlie's dad lifted his head from bowing it to pray over his meal since none of Duke's family had said the prayer out loud. They had all been distracted by conversation to do it. "You wanna know what the final straw was?"

"What was it?" Duke's father scooted towards the table and bowed his own head over his meal for a moment before digging in. "What are we getting into?"

"What?" Charlie's dad smiled. "The old ball and chain didn't tell you all about her nephew?"

Her nephew? Charlie was their nephew, his cousin. If his uncle was joking then Charlie certainly didn't pick up on it.

"So what did he do?" Duke's dad let out a sigh as he dug into the food and began passing it out to everyone. "What are we in for?

"He tried burning down the high school. He kept rambling on about how the students there were worthless and needed to die."

"Well, that doesn't seem so bad." Duke's mom chimed in.

"It's arson, Susan." Charlie's dad turned towards her. "He's also been investigated for kidnapping."

"Kidnapping too?" Duke's mom lifted her head. "You didn't tell me that he was being investigated for kidnapping!"

Duke wasn't as worried as his mother. Charlie was a good kid from what Duke had seen over the years. When it rained at King's Island the summer before Duke turned six, he had given Duke his jacket. He helped a young girl find her mother after she lost sight of her when she got off of the ride. There was no way that he had even been a person of interest in kidnapping cases.

"He was never charged and he was only a person of interest. You still have to take him. We're not bringing him back to town after he kicked up so much trouble there."

Charlie's father let his head fall and began making good on his food. The rest of dinner was silent. None of them spoke and the only noises were the forks and knives on the plates. Duke wasn't going to make much noise. He was ready to finish dinner and do whatever he wanted. His suit was now fitting too tight around his neck. Like it was strangling him. Charlie was a good person, he reminded himself. Charlie is a good person. He is not the reason those kids went missing.

Duke wandered back to the closed door about a dozen times between the end of dinner and now, as he walked to his bedroom. He had cleaned up the dishes and put them into the dishwasher for further cleaning. His parents and aunt and uncle had gone into the living to talk. He didn't care for his mother's gloating. He didn't care for his father's pride in his work. His aunt and uncle boasted about their own achievements as well as if none of them were proud of each other.

"Alright, I think we're going to head out. We don't want to be too tired when we go into work tomorrow." Duke's uncle's voice echoed down the hall. His figure appeared a few seconds later and waved at Duke in the hallway. "See you at Thanksgiving, Duke."

Did they make plans for Thanksgiving already? Duke waved back to his uncle with a smile. "See you then, Uncle Jim."

"See you at Thanksgiving, Charlie." Duke's aunt called down the hall.

Duke waved back at the two figures at the end of the hall before they disappeared into the front room near the front door. Charlie's own parents were now gone. Charlie would only have Duke's parents for the next few months. Duke's parents came back to the bathroom a few moments later and spent the next twenty minutes cleaning up before both their room and the bathroom light went dark. Duke went to his room but didn't feel the need to change just yet. He wanted to stay up a bit longer and changing into pajamas now meant that the day was over.

Duke turned around in his bedroom for a few moments. He waited until the snores of his parents echoed off of the bathroom walls back towards Duke's room. That's when Duke made his way to Charlie's room. He needed to know if Charlie was the one who had kidnapped those kids. If someone dangerous was living in his house. Duke raised a hand, ready to knock but the door swung open before he could even have the chance to open it himself. It was almost as if Charlie had known that he was there.

"What are you doing up so late?" Charlie asked as he leaned against the doorframe. His hair was now tied back into a ponytail and only his jeans remained. He smelled of something that Charlie could not place but had smelled many times before when passing by the bathroom stalls at school. Duke had immediately forgotten the questions he was going to ask Charlie. "Your parents went to bed like half an hour ago."

Even though it was later than Duke had stayed up on most nights reading books by flashlight or waiting long enough to sneak out of the house and look at the stars. Especially on the night before going back to school. It was only seven at night the light had faded more than Duke would have hoped. He was too scared to admit to anyone that he was still scared of the dark even though he was ten. Charlie's face was hidden mostly in shadows but Duke could still see the contours of his face. Here, he looked like one of the monsters that Duke had imagined crawling through his windows at night.

When Charlie stepped into the light of the hallway, Duke noticed how pale Charlie's skin had gotten. So pale that his white skin had seemed to turn grey. His lips had crusted over. His blue eyes had turned a deep shade of blue.

"I could ask you the same thing." Duke straightened his back as if that would make him taller.

"I was just about to go out for a walk. Do you want to come?"

Duke pondered on it for a minute. "Wouldn't mom and dad be mad at us? We're not supposed to be out past sunset."

"Well I'm going out," Charlie pushed past Duke and towards the front door. "Don't feel like you have to lie for me either."

Millie Report had been told to go straight home after Sunday school. That her babysitter would be waiting for her when she got home. Her parents left on a business trip Instead of picking her up all the way across town, they would just meet in the middle back at her house. After that, they would end up going to the local diner for a late dinner. Then she would be sent off to bed. She had told her parents that she was old enough to make it home. After all, she was nearly twelve years old. The town was small enough that she had eyes on her every time she passed a house and even a little bit past that.

Millie checked her County road J would soon turn into county road K. As soon as it became K, she would take an immediate right. That's what the piece of paper she had in her hands said. Even though she and her family walked to church and back every Sunday, she had never really paid attention to what kind of turns they made. She was always picking up rocks or sticks alongside the road and messing up her pastel-colored dresses. Don't you dare mess up another dress, Millie. Her mother's voice rang out in her head as she spotted another pretty rock on the ground. No. She would keep her dress clean. She would make sure that she could be seen as someone who could walk back home on her own.

The sun had already set behind Millie and the roads were getting darker behind her. The fall air whipped around her and she chastised herself for not bringing a jacket. Each footstep crunched underneath her. The gravel that her parents had told her had once made these roads had turned into dust after years and years of wear. But that was long before she had been born and long before her family had been born.

Millie kept walking on county road J for at least half a mile before someone else appeared in front of her. A dark figure that she had never seen before. She squinted into the distance and tried to make sense of what was right in front of her eyes. She paused in the middle of the road. Her eyes scanned the shadow for a moment before it eventually got close enough for her to see who it was. A young man who she had never seen before. Even in her twelve years of life, she had been introduced to every family that lived in the town. Every face had been burned into her nearly photogenic memory. Though, her way home evaded her every single time she tried to make the walk home alone. What a terrible memory she had then, she assumed.

The man-made his way towards her as if he were going to the church. Millie checked her watch. It was nearing seven at night and in the hour that it had taken her to get this close to home, she knew that it would be closed down by now. She cursed herself for staying back to help out the pastor clean up from the Sunday evening mass. Even if there weren't many children for her to help with Sunday school. A lot of people had already come and gone that morning when most of the town had service. But a lot of people came back just for the fun of it. Even if it was the same service as before.

His body was only lit up by a few lights that the townspeople had put out onto the road so that no one would end up in a ditch. His feet crunched the bits and pieces of old and dried-out wood that had covered the ground. Where could he have been going? He turned his attention to her, his face lit up in flickers by fire that had come out of his lighter. He turned his attention to Millie. His long, gangly face lit up just as much as the light that appeared to come from a lighter. She didn't get a good look at what he was wearing which wouldn't help her if he did anything suspicious.

"Well hello there." His smile had grown inhumanly large. He moved closer to her. His eyes flashed dangerously dark as he flicked the lighter off. "What's your name?"

"M-my name is Millie." Her name felt odd on her lips. She had rarely ever spoken it. Fear flushed her face. She shouldn't have given her name to a stranger."W-who are you?"

"Millie. I like that name."

The man flicked on the lighter once more.

"I asked you what your name was."

The lighter flicked off.

"The name is Charlie. But I ask the questions here."

"What do you...what do you want to ask me?" Millie's voice caught in her throat as she tried to keep her composure.

"Where you're going," Charlie said that in a more matter-of-fact tone than the tone of someone who was asking a question. "What you're doing out alone this late at night."

"I'm-I don't think I should answer any of your questions. My parents said not to speak to strangers."

"But we're not strangers." Charlie flicked on the lighter to show off his inhuman smile, now adorned with rows upon rows of sharpened teeth. Saliva dripped off of his teeth and onto his bottom lip. "We're friends."

"We-we're not friends." Millie took a few steps back. "I should get home."

"Oh no," Charlie dropped the lighter down to the ground. "You should come with me."

Millie tried going around him but he had wrapped around her quicker than she could get away. Her whole body shook as he held her close to his chest. His breath-warm, hot, and sticky-brushed against her neck. Each breath was deep and heavy. He hadn't even said a word before Millie decided that she needed to put up a fight. She kicked and screamed until her voice was raw and her legs were tired. Each kick only brought her closer to him and each scream only came to crush her lungs. Her screams echoed across the trees.

Finally, she dropped her attention down to the arms that restrained her. Her mouth opened and laid a bit down onto his arm. Charlie let out a roar. Millie sprinted off into the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way down to her house. The sound of her heart echoed down to her bones. Her whole body ached. Charlie's footsteps weren't far behind her.

"Don't you dare run from a friend." Charlie's voice was louder than thunder on a rainy night. "Don't you dare run from me."

The footsteps came closer and closer to Millie. Millie had nowhere to turn. Nowhere to hide. The open road is what faced both of them. Her attention was on the road ahead of her and not the road behind her. Nor the road below her. Her foot caught on a stick and she tumbled down into the earth. The dirt kicked up into her mouth. Charlie's hands wrapped around her and flipped her over. His teeth flashed in the moonlight. His face was long and garish. Millie's screams echoed throughout the night. His teeth sank into her neck.

"This morning is a sad day for Archbold Township as we are looking for one of our own. Millie Report has come up missing." The newscaster's perma-smile had faded. "She was last seen walking home from Sunday school at six last night. She took country road J home. She was seen in a yellow dress and a pair of white converse, freshly bought. The police have no main suspects right now but if you have any information on the whereabouts of Millie Report, please contact the police at the number below."

Duke's family always watched the morning news before they headed out for the day. During the week-only in the summer-Duke had to follow one of his parents to work. This week, he was going with his mom to her secretary job it was still too early for Duke to comprehend most of it. His backpack rested on the bench where his mom had put it the night previous. Duke flattened out his jeans a bit as he tried to wipe the sweat that had pooled on his hands. He knew Millie. She went to middle school but her younger sister was in the same class as Duke.

Charlie had been outside that night. Duke had seen him head out but he had never heard him come back inside so he had no idea how long Charlie had been out the previous night. He couldn't be the one who kidnapped Millie. He hadn't even been there a whole day. There is no way he would cause trouble that soon.

Charlie stumbled out of his room and into the living room. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. His jeans were covered in a maroon substance that only Duke noticed before Charlie rushed back to his room to change. His mother and father turned their faces towards the noise but didn't catch Charlie's form. Charlie came out a few moments later with a fresh set of clothes and a smile on his face.

"Neither of you are to leave this house until Millie Report is found, do you hear me?"

Charlie and Duke frantically nodded. Duke's mother turned back to the TV and wrung her hands in worry. Charlie turned towards Duke as he flashed him a deadly smile.

He bowed down to Duke's ear, "Maybe if you took the opportunity to come with me last night, Millie wouldn't have had to run away from me."

#short story #creative writing #short horror story #writblr #writeblr #writblur #author #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

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dcbbw · 4 years

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Six Sentence Sunday January 3, 2021

I haven’t posted a Six Sentence Sunday in forever! Fortunately, for the first Sunday of 2021, I have managed to get words and thoughts out of my head and onto paper (or screen).

Everything is under the cut (and it’s a little bit of a lot)

The Life We Lived, Chapter 3:

His wife nodded and reached over into his plate to grab his fish sandwich. She wasn’t a fan of the seafood, but it was deep fried, and the bread was loaded with mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions, and jalapenos. It looked delicious.

She was on her third bite when her husband returned. His eyes widened in disbelief at seeing both of Riley’s hands gripping half his sub sandwich, mayonnaise dripping from her lips. Without a word, he sat down, pulled her beef lo mein in front of him. and began eating it.

“What did Thomas want? Is the job offer at the firm still open?” Riley licked her lips before taking another hearty bite.

Liam twirled flavorful noodles around the tines of his fork before spearing tender pieces of beef. His expression was thoughtful when he looked at his wife. “He offered me a case, but it isn’t immigration. It’s criminal. Murder.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “You’re not a criminal attorney.”

“I know enough to be a public defender,” Liam argued. “And it’s pretty open and shut. Apparently, the accused is admitting guilt; they just want to not get the death penalty or life with no chance of parole.”

Riley snatched her beef lo mein away from Liam; she shoveled a huge forkful in her mouth. “How much?” she asked suspiciously.

Liam’s eyes held hers. “One million even.”

Riley choked on her food. “What the FUCK?? When do you start?”

Liam chuckled softly before leaning over and kissing Riley with the slightest hint of tongue. “Not so fast, there. That’s a lot of money from a person admitting they’re guilty of murder, of all things. Which makes me think there’s more here than meets the eye.”

Riley nodded slowly. “So, you’re gonna think about it?” she asked hopefully.

Untitled #WackyDrabble #76:

The King stood at his study’s window, his dark eyes peering up at an even darker sky. He held a glass of scotch in one hand; he absent-mindedly shook it, causing amber liquid to swirl gently. In his other hand, he held a black velvet ring box. His eyes left the starry sky to look down at the box.

Inside was a symbol of his devotion, loyalty, and commitment. That he would slide onto his fiancée’s finger tomorrow morning.

He would have a wife. Cordonia would have a Queen.

Except Cordonia was an exacting mistress, not easily appeased. Demands for an heir would soon follow, then a spare would be required.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

With a sigh, Liam tucked the jewelry box into his suit jacket pocket before closing the curtains; he turned away from the window and sank into the chocolate leather of his oversized chair. His eyes roamed over his desk: personal photographs, stacks of paperwork divided by progress and priority, a Bible of the Orthodox Church.

He lifted his head at a knock on the door; hope and eagerness flooded his body as he called for his visitor to enter. It fled as quickly as it came when he saw who his visitor was.

White Sock Fuckery (SGL Ask):

The October evening was damp and chilly. Streetlamps glowed pale yellow against the night. The heavy rain that had drenched the nation’s capital from sunrise to sunset had finally eased into a light mist. The few leaves left on the trees lining Rhode Island Avenue at Logan Circle were bent and downward facing with the weight of moisture.

A figure slid from the vehicle double parked in the street, a large bag filled with purchases clutched in one hand. They didn’t turn around to watch the vehicle drive away; they were too busy searching for keys. With an audible gasp of relief, fingers pulled out a keyring and the person entered the building.

In the lobby of the apartment complex, the person headed directly up the stairs to Unit #2. The hall was quiet, the lighting dim. More keys were inserted into locks, and the person was inside. They leaned against the closed front door, exhaling a sigh as they inhaled patchouli and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Their eyes traveled quickly over the darkened rooms.

Unopened wine bottles on the kitchen counter, remote control tossed carelessly on the sofa, a pile of laundry tossed atop the stacked washer/dryer.

Still clutching the bag, the person traveled the short hallway that led to the bedroom. Flipping a switch filled the somewhat spacious area with bright light. Tossing the bag on the bed, the person went to the chest of drawers placed in the exact center between two of the room’s four windows. A quick glance at their watch informed them they had 15 minutes before their ride returned.

Pulling the top drawer open, the person’s eyes widened in a hybrid of horror, disbelief, and humor.

What the actual fuck?

Dress Up (SGL x Riley B Kinktober ask)

“You know I wouldn’t do anything you’re not ready for,” he assured her. “But I think we’re both ready for something. Let’s call it a tension breaker.”

“Tension breaker?” Riley arched a brow as her arms circled his neck.

“It has to be done,” Liam affirmed as his lips pulled hers into a deep kiss.

When they parted a full minute later, Liam whispered in her ear. “I want to touch your body, Riley B.”

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly. And I probably am, but …”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly. I just need you to remember I’m not those other guys. I’m not gonna dump you in Target or pop in for 15 minutes of your time every six months like Bootycall Keith.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

“And it’s Keith the Bootycall. Like Chance the Rapper.”

Liam rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his shirt; he didn’t see why he had to get that scrub’s name right.

Sunday Bruch, Chapter 10

Olivia ate a hearty forkful of her roasted quail and root vegetable casserole. “Hamid wanted to join us, but I thought it best that this luncheon be girls only.”

Riley looked at her confused. “Why? I’d love to meet the man who took you away from Court.”

Olivia set her fork down; she leaned across the table so she and Riley were practically nose to nose. “First, no one took me away from Court. I am still very much a member; I just choose not to socialize with you heathens. Second, you’re pregnant with no idea who the father is. You don’t want this to become an international scandal! You do realize Hamid has his own kingdom to oversee? And he can be a Chatty Cathy with an especially … juicy tidbit.”

Riley nodded as Olivia pulled away. A pale hand swept across her crimson locks before the Duchess of Lythikos brought a wine glass to her lips.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Riley shrugged as she scooped venison, rice, and gravy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I want to stay with Maxwell. Thinking all the men have brown hair; all of us except Maxwell have brown eyes. Maybe Max is the dad by default?”

Olivia blinked. This woman cannot be this fucking stupid! She lightly cleared her throat.

“How were you ever Queen?” Olivia huffed. “You do know none of these men look alike, right? As much as I love a good drama, the smart thing … the responsible thing to do is to have a DNA test done. Then sit down and have a talk with Maxwell and the child’s father.”

“NO!” Riley exclaimed, bits of food flying from her mouth. “I can’t do that! That’s just … out of the question!”

“You should have thought of that before having a threesome with Drake Walker and Rashad Domvallier.”

“It was just something to do,” Riley muttered.

“Now it’s become someone to raise.” Olivia sliced into a savory yam. “THIS is why I no longer come around. You people are a circle jerk of messy sex and share relationships. I have found keeping your circle small helps keep your hole tight.”

Untitled Laxwell:

In the kitchen, he found his lover sitting in the dark at the dining table. The flipping of the light switch revealed a decanter of scotch sat beside him, and a glass of the liquor was in front of him. His blue eyes lifted long enough to take in his boyfriend’s slightly disheveled countenance.

“Rain wake you up?’ he asked as he took a swallow of his drink.

Liam shook his head, frowning slightly. Maxwell wasn’t a drinker; he wanted to be, but the most the younger Beaumont could handle was a glass of wine. Two, at most. Anything more or something stronger went to his head immediately. And Maxwell tended to be a belligerent drunk, his ire fueled by jealousy.

Liam sat down cautiously across from his boyfriend.

“What are you doing up? And drinking?”

Maxwell shrugged while tugging at his wrinkled tee shirt. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

Maxwell said nothing as he picked up his glass to drink more scotch.

“How many glasses have you had?” Liam asked suspiciously.

“This is my second.”

“So, what are you thinking about that has you up in the middle of the night, drinking scotch?”

Liam settled back in his chair, outstretching his arm so his hand covered Maxwell’s .A slight smile quickly flickered across the young Lord’s lips. When he raised his face to look at Liam, his expression was blank but his eyes sad.

“My mother.” It was simply said, but Liam knew the pain that lay behind the two words.

Untitled JGL one-shot:

One night, soon after Liam Rys started, I found myself staying late to help out the accounting team. Quarterly reports were coming up which meant every broker needed their monthly numbers. Of course, a good broker keeps their own numbers, but with Barthelemy as Managing Director, there are no good brokers.

Just a bunch of good old boy club members who like to smoke cigars, drink liquor, and grope tits.

And then there are the rest of us.

I run the numbers for my team and go to drop Liam’s reports off at his desk; when I reach his cubicle, I stop short. It’s after 8 pm, and he is hunched over his desk. His cheeks are flushed, he’s gnawed his lower lip raw, and wears a scowl of vexation on his face.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask as I lay the reports in his inbox.

His dark eyes glance up at me before falling back down to the computer screen. “I have to put together a portfolio for a new client by tomorrow morning. Came straight from the Managing Director.”

“And it has you looking like that?”

“He has very specific stocks he wants to invest in, but none of them are going to give the client the yield the MD insists upon.”

I roll my eyes and hold out my hand to see the mock portfolio. With a sigh, Liam passes it to me before leaning back in his chair. He rubs his eyes, and glances at the clock. He pulls open a desk drawer and grabs an apple.

I look around for a place to sit in the small cubicle, but there isn’t any. Liam’s bicycle takes up all the available space. Instead, I kick off my heels and rest against the cloth-covered partition as I quickly review the documents.

“They’re playing you,” I state flatly as I pass the papers back.

Liam looks at me, confusion and an underlying hardness in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“What they’re asking of you is impossible. All the stocks are duds, poor performers. They set you up to fail. Or go crazy, whichever one comes first.”

Not tagging folks; if you see it and want to play, feel free to do so!

#long post #dcbbw writes #six sentence sunday #choices fanfiction

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

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Prompt tony giving peter a wedgie just to be a little shit and finds peter wearing iron man boxers

Whelp, I guess I’m back and writing :’) Thank you sm for this prompt! This is kind of an IM1/2 era prompt, where Peter is basically Pepper and is Tony’s long-suffering but doting assistant. No trigger warnings for this, unless you’ve had a series wedgie-related trauma in the past.

“Mr. Stark, you can’t just-"

"I’m sorry, what? What did you just say? I don’t understand the word that didn’t just come out of your mouth, because nobody tells me I can’t do anything. I’m Tony Stark, I can do whatever I want,” the self-mentioned genius spun on his heel as he backed into the room, arms spread and a lopsided, friendly smirk on his mouth as he tossed his apple from one hand to the other.

He spun back around as he crunched into it, free hand flying in all sorts of gestures that pulled holograms from one corner of the room to the other.

“Yes, congratulations, you know your own name,” Peter responded wryly, stepping inside after him and through each hologram that his boss tossed in his direction in a valiant attempt to keep him at bay. “But you absolutely can’t-"

"Ah? What was that? That word? Began with a ‘c’, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t apply to me. Like, ever. Unless its in the context of eating olives. In which case, I can’t. shan’t, and won’t.”

A slender hand stretched through a scaled-down hologram of the Tower and gripped the front of the genius’ shirt in a tight first, dragging him forwards until he was staring into a pair of stormy, dark eyes.

“Anthony Edward Stark. You are not going to make a cast of your own penis and market it as the 'Iron Rod’,” his personal assistant growled, and it was truly the eighth wonder of the world that he said it was a completely straight face.

“Ah, but you didn’t say I couldn’t make one and market it at all,” Tony countered, and he could feel the threat of bodily harm radiating from the younger man. In fact if he looked close enough into his eyes, he could see a tiny reflection of himself getting beaten to death with his own suit.

He wriggled free of the vice-like grip Peter had on his shirt and darted out of reach, stretching for a hologram of his aforementioned body part. Peter emerged from the hologram behind him, mouth open and ready to argue before he snapped it shut and slapped his hand over his eyes, spinning away with a sound of disgust.

“This violates so many workplace laws,” the younger man muttered, and Tony gave a low hum. Was he agreeing? Probably. Tony hadn’t read a Stark Industries contract since Pepper had finalised them all for official use. Frankly, he wouldn’t have even read them then, but she’d physically sat down next to him to make sure he read every. Single. Word.

It had been tedious and boring and to top it off, she’d even confiscated his glasses on the off-chance he’d fitted them with software again to play Angry Birds. (He had.)

“Do you think the body should be red and the tip be gold? Or the other way around?” Tony asked thoughtfully, and made an affronted noise when the hologram splintered out of existence before him. He’d been intending to work on that, thank you. But then gentle fingertips were brushing his jaw, turning his head with careful tenderness until he was blinking back into those whiskey eyes. Peter had such long, lovely lashes. Tony wanted to count every single one.

“Tony. When was the last time you ate?” Peter asked, voice impossibly soft, and Tony made another quiet sound, shrugging lightly as he looked away, off into the distance. That was a nice wall. The perfect wall. Had that wall always been there?

“That depends. What day is it?” he answered, nose scrunching, and he could feel Peter’s gentle exhale across his cheek.

“Friday,” Peter responded flatly, and those featherlight fingers were sliding from his jaw, down to his arm where the smaller man took hold and began to steer him straight back towards the door he’d only just walked through.

“Which means I’m making you a sandwich and then you’re going to bed.”

“How does not eating equate to being banished to bed like a toddler?” Tony argued, but he went willingly anyway, because he was a sucker for a pretty face and a pout. Honestly, hiring Peter Parker was the worst thing he could have ever done to himself.

He’d essentially hired the one person that could actually make him do anything. Besides Pepper, of course, but then she’d gone and gotten pregnant and now she worked in Public Relations, a much calmer department that meant she could largely work from home and keep an eye on her little… Spawn.

“When you’re a grown ass man that needs to be treated like one,” Peter fired back, nudging him into the elevator. Tony opened his mouth, but the younger man rounded on him. “And don’t even think about trying to weasel out of it through JARVIS. He’ll just agree with me,” Peter warned.

“In this instance, Sir, I’m inclined to agree with Mr. Parker,” his treacherous, disloyal AI remarked from around them, and Tony closed his mouth slowly with a scowl. That’s what you got for giving an AI the gift of free will, he supposed. It bit you on the ass and agreed with your spitfire of a personal assistant/colleague.

“This sandwich better have salami in it,” he muttered darkly. Peter simply cast him a sideways, softly amused glance, and pushed him out of the elevator when they arrived at the penthouse. It had apparently been cleaned since Tony was last here, and it was also apparently overcast today, which meant either the New York weather had turned in the last ten minutes, or it truly had been a considerable amount of time since he’d last looked out of the windows.

Guiltily, he noted it was more likely to be the latter. Someone (Peter) had tidied away all of the tools and random bits of tech scattered around, and someone (Peter) had cleared up from his last round of coffees and his poor attempt at making himself a snack some days (?) prior.

He let himself be prodded into a chair at the kitchen island, and crossed his ankles as he swung his lungs, leaning on the bar and doing his best to look cute as Peter rounded it and made for the fridge. Looking cute helped kids and animals get out of trouble, why not attractive billionaires with supersuits?

He watched curiously as Peter pulled a variety of items from the fridge, and the sauce rack at its side. Burger sauce, mustard, sliced roast beef, pepperoni slices, mixed salad lettuce, American cheese and a crusty, round loaf of Italian bread. Tony’s brows raised. That was… Quite the combination.

“I could make a plug and call it the Arse Reactor,” he suggested after a short while had passed, and Peter pressed down so hard on the knife it almost bit into the cutting board. The petite man cast him a glare over his shoulder and Tony raised his hands in surrender, biting back a shit-eating grin as he watched the flex of Peter’s arms and shoulders. When did Peter ever find the time to work out?

“Eat,” Peter’s gentle voice interrupted his distracted thoughts, and Tony blinked down in surprise at the plate that was pushed gently between his propped elbows. He could have sworn it was only two seconds ago Peter was cutting up the ingredients… But, he had to admit, the sandwich looked mouthwatering.

He picked it up dutifully and took a bite as Peter turned away, reaching for the fridge once more. An explosion of flavour hit his tongue and he moaned, chewing his mouthful like it was an act of worship. Across the island, Peter cracked a small, almost shy smile, and poured a cracked the tab on a can of soda.

“I’m marrying this sandwich” Tony announced when Peter came close enough to slide him the drink, and the other man rolled his eyes, but looked suitably bashful. That one initial taste had suddenly altered Tony to just how hungry he actually was, and he shamelessly scarfed the beast of a meal down, aware of the fact that Peter watched him the entire time, leaning against the kitchen island with this impossible soft expression on his face. When Tony had licked his lips clean of crumbs, Peter took the plate, heading over to the sink where he began to run the hot water.

“I have a dish washer for that,” Tony remarked, and he couldn’t see it, but he knew the man had rolled his eyes. Peter did it whenever Tony said anything that pertained to his 'rich, white man privilege.’ It didn’t earn a verbal response, though, and Tony managed another nine seconds before the silence had him twitching and squirming in place, sniffing as he adjusted his seating position and arm placement.

“I bet you’d buy one, if I did. Or even better, I could just send you an Iron Rod fresh from the factory,” Tony remarked, and his mouth was still open enough at the end of the sentence to catch the soap sud that Peter flicked at him.

“I am not going to own a cast of my boss’ dick, you pervert,” Peter huffed in response, and Tony sucked air between his teeth in the universal signal of ouch.

“Why not? Its just a casting. I highly doubt there’s anything about that written in any contract-” knowing Pepper, there absolutely would be, “-and who knows? It could be the best ride of your life,” he tossed out, intently watching the way that Peter’s spine curved as he focused on the task at hand. His assistant squeaked a laugh and shook his head.

“Oh, I doubt it. You’re probably unremarkably average,” Peter shot back, and oh. Game on, Parker. Tony moved silently from the chair, padding one step at a time like a predator on the prowl.

“We both know I’m not,” he hummed, keeping his voice level and quiet so it wouldn’t give away the fact that he was moving closer. Peter hesitated for a moment in his scrubbing, and deflated slightly. Tony was right, and they both knew it. Peter had seen him naked far too many times to have any other conception.

“Okay, you’re not. But I’m still not buying one.”

“I think you want to. And you’re afraid I know you want to,” Tony purred into Peter’s ear, shameless teasing and victory in his voice at the way the boy locked up like he’d just stepped on a landmine.

“What makes you say that?” Peter asked after a moment, voice faux-light and cheery as he scrubbed at a non-existent mark on the plate.

“Because you’ve been scrubbing the same plate for the past five minutes, and all I ate was a sandwich,” Tony pointed out, reaching over to take the sponge away from Peter. Peter made a sound vaguely like he was dying, and turned the water off, shoving the plate almost violently into the drying rack.

“Its called good hygiene, maybe if you did the dishes now and then you’d know it,” Peter responded smartly, turning to face him as he spoke. His assistant raised his arm, pointing past him and towards the steps that led to Tony’s room.

“Bed. Now,” he instructed, and it was purely because Tony was feeling generous (honestly) that he complied, turning on his heel to stroll off towards his room.

“I wouldn’t think any less of you, y'know. I’d be quite flattered,” he remarked casually, and jolted when a magazine hit him on the back of the head. “That’s assault. Pretty sure you’re in violation of the workplace law” he teased, and relished in the soft, despaired groan that sounded from behind him as he bounded up the steps like a puppy.

Once inside his luxurious room, he tugged his shirt over his head and threw it onto his sheets, disappearing into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He ought to shower, but he figured he could do that when he woke up.

“Don’t forget eye drops,” Peter’s voice rang out from his room when he’d rinsed his toothbrush and his mouth, and Tony paused mid-way to the door, stepping backwards to peer into the massive mirror wall. He prodded at one of his eyes thoughtfully, blinking. Huh. They did look a little dry, and feel a little raw.

So purely of his own accord, he dripped a few drops in each one and waved off the light in the bathroom, peering cautiously around the corner to find Peter stood opposite his walk-in closet, carefully reorganising all the clothes Tony had skewed around.

He was eccentric, not gross, thank you very much. Just because he was awake for 82 hours at a time, didn’t mean he didn’t change his clothes and brush his teeth.

“Now that I-”

“If this has anything to do with your dildo, I swear to God,” Peter threatened, pointing at him with a clothes clip before sliding the powder blue shirt into it carefully. Tony couldn’t even remember buying that shirt, let alone removing it from its place. His hands went to his belt to unbuckle it as he padded closer.

“Now that I think about it, I can understand why you don’t want one,” he offered gently, voice sincere and soft. Peter paused dubiously, fingers stilling over the soft sweater he was hanging, and then relaxed, slotting it back onto the bar where it dangled with the rest of its garment family.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter noted quietly.

“Its because there’s so much up your ass already, there wouldn’t be any room,” Tony tacked on casually, fingers curling expertly around the band of gold he could see peeking out from atop the boy’s tight jeans, where his shirt had ridden up as he stretched.

There was enough time for him to note how soft his skin was where he brushed it, for Peter’s breath to hitch on the beginning of a protest, and then Tony’s arm flexed as he yanked the band upwards, driving the material of Peter’s boxers right up between his asscheeks. It actually lifted the boy up onto his toes, hands flying out to brace himself on the wall and -

“Huh,” Tony voiced aloud, over the whimper-whelp that leapt from Peter’s throat.

Peter Parker was wearing a pair of very eye-catching, rather bold Iron Man boxers. The waistband was gold, edged with red, and Tony could see the tips of what he presumed were gauntleted handprints on each round, plump cheek.

“Anthony fucking Edwar-!” Peter seethed, and Tony twisted the material in his grip, hitching it even further against the younger man. It had to be right against his sensitive little hole by now, uncomfortable and rubbing.

“I didn’t realise I was already up your ass, darling,” Tony grinned, brow lifting as he stepped closer, closer, until Peter was pressed against the wall, held there by Tony’s grip and the teasing proximity of his body. He could feel the way Peter started to tremble, and he might have felt bad if he wasn’t pretty clued on to the fact that Peter wasn’t actually offended. Well. Not as offended as he was trying to make out.

“Though of course, that statement isn’t quite as accurate as I think we’d both like it to be,” he noted, gaze falling down, down to where his own brand stretched around a fat, plump set of asscheeks. He praised himself for how long he’d gone without doing anything; even Pepper had taken one look at Peter during his interview and immediately demanded Tony keep his hands to himself.

“You’re an asshole and a fiend,” Peter grumbled, though Tony knew him well enough to know there was a smile on his mouth as he spoke, head turning against the wall slightly to make it more comfortable. He hadn’t moved from his position, even though he could quite well have pushed Tony’s hand aside and moved away. Yet he stayed pinned, like a good little trapped prey.

“I could be worse,” Tony drawled, letting go of Peter’s underwear so that it snapped back against his hips with a satisfying sound that had the smaller man’s hips jolting forwards against the wall with a hiss. Tony didn’t back away, though.

He pressed in closer, slotting their bodies together gently. And oh, what a perfect fit it was. Peter’s smaller frame, blanketed and pressed against by his own, his hips perfect for gripping where Tony’s large hands came to rest on them.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Tony murmured, lowering his head to nuzzle at the slope of Peter’s shoulder. He did nothing more, just lazily nuzzled at the muscle there, the delicate curve of his neck, breathing in the boy’s scent and relishing in the chance to finally, finally touch. Peter breathed out heavily, lowering himself back onto the flat of his feet and leaning just slightly back into Tony’s careful hold.

“If you don’t tell me stop, I’m going to strip you of everything except for the those boxers, and I’m gonna push them aside to eat you out through them,” he added, quiet, promising.

Peter twitched underneath him, a choked off sound cracking on his tongue as he reached back, digging his fingers into Tony’s hip to drag him forwards, coaxing him into rolling his hips, dragging his cock along the groove of Peter’s ass, where his underwear was still hiked up between those tempting globes of muscle.

“If you stop, I'll resign,” Peter demanded, reaching for Tony’s hair so he could drag him down and kiss that stupid, smug smirk off his face.

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker au #starker cu #starker ncc #ironspider #ironspider tanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider au #ironspider cu #ironspider ncc #tony stark/peter parker #sie fics

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lauraukoli · 3 years

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2520 Shelby Pkwy, Cape Coral FL 33904 | Waterfront Single Family Residential Home

Uncover an enchanting getaway home in Cape Coral FL

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flawlesswindowcleaning · 15 days

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Clear Views Window Cleaning - Flawless Window Cleaning

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apharine · 4 years

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Sightseeing

Chapter 4

Pairing: Siane x Nanu

Fandom: Pokemon

Rating: T

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 on Tumblr | Chapter 2 on Tumblr | Chapter 3 on Tumblr

My writing commission info!

Summary: Siane hadn't meant to wind up in Alola, under Nanu's care, while she recovered from a mysterious illness that left her prone to weakness and collapsing. But now that she's here and getting stronger, she wants to see more of Ula'ula than just the rainy skies and the Po Town wall by Nanu's police station. And who could be better suited to give her a tour than the Kahuna of the island himself?

Notes: Siane is the wonderful HybridDragoness’ OC, you can find her art of Siane here! You can also find Hybrid on Twitter and AO3 under the same handle as on Tumblr! For anyone who hasn’t seen yet, Hybrid has done some amazing art of a scene of her commission here!

_________________________

It was later, while feeding his many Meowth and mulling over what to make for dinner for himself and Siane, that Nanu realized something was…off.

The Po Town Police Station was quiet. Unusually quiet. If you ignored the meowing cats looking for a meal, that is.

Ordinarily, this time of day, he’d have a young woman hovering over his shoulder, asking him if she could help with feeding the Meowth, or meal preparation, or holding up some sort of ingredient and asking what kind of dishes he liked to make with it. But now, he’s completely alone.

Nanu finishes doling out the last of the wet Meowth food in a hurry, hustling into the kitchen. Surely she was just poking around in his pantry, curious to see what sort of odds and ends could be put together into a meal today. Maybe she was even trying to cook something herself - a feat which had previously been impossible for her, owing to the way she kept passing out.

But no - she’s nowhere to be found. Nanu’s heart clenches as he suddenly imagines the worst case scenario - perhaps she’d passed out after her shower, and hit her head on something, and she was lying, unconscious on the ground, waiting for him to discover her -

Or, Nanu realizes, rushing out of the kitchen. She’s just fallen sound asleep, on the couch.

The late afternoon sun is peeking out of the clouds for once, and it streams in through the window, hitting Siane’s hair and skin and casting an almost angelic, golden glow to her. Angelic - now there was a thought. She’d only nearly given him a heart attack with her teasing how many times today?

Still, Nanu thinks, a small smile pulling at his lips. Angelic was the right word for it.

He approaches her, one hand outstretched, as if to touch her and wake her up. At the last minute, he realizes he can’t do it. She’s clearly tired, and he can only imagine how much all that activity must have taken out of her. She hadn’t done so much as a quarter that much walking or jogging on even her best day in the Police Station. Waking her up instead of allowing her to rest would be cruel.

Siane stirs in her sleep, reaching for something - and not finding it. Instead, she turns on her side, a small shiver passing through her body. Was she running a fever? Had she worn herself down into exhaustion? Very gently, Nanu brushes his hand against her forehead. She doesn’t feel any warmer than he does, but she again shivers a little.

She’s a little cold, he realizes, and she doesn’t have any blankets to pull up around her. He can’t fix everything for her, as much as he wishes he could. But he can fix this.

Nanu fetches the blankets she’s been sleeping with, then frowns. They smell like Meowth, and they’re covered in purple hair. Quite clearly, they could use a good washing. Nanu makes a mental note to throw them in his washer in a minute, then goes to his bed to fetch his own blankets. They’re covered in Meowth hair, too - an unavoidable fact of living with his small horde - but at least they smell better. In fact, they smell a little like…him.

He wonders, briefly, if she’d like that.

Then he returns to the couch, draping first one blanket, then a second, carefully over her form. This wakes her up, and she stirs, turning to look up at him and blinking the sleep away from her eyes.

“Hey,” Nanu mumbles. “Didn’t mean to wake you. You just seemed cold.”

“I was,” she agrees, drawing the blankets a little more around herself. “Thank you. That was really sweet of you, Nanu.” Her hand darts out from the blankets and finds his. Her slender fingers slip into his hold, and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, then pulls away.

“Glad I can help,” Nanu returns, aware that he’s blushing. “Do you want a pillow, too?”

“If you don’t mind,” Siane hums, her eyes already drifting shut.

“Not at all,” Nanu hears himself saying, and then he’s returning to his bed to retrieve one of his pillows, too. He might as well wash her pillowcases while he’s washing her blankets. “Here,” he says once he’s back at the bed. Siane’s almost asleep, but opens her eyes at his words, and lifts her head up.

“Thanks,” she says as Nanu tucks the pillow under her head.

“Of course,” Nanu hums. “Get some rest, okay? Dinner will be waiting for you when you wake up. You must be exhausted from today.” He wants to tell her how strong he thinks she is, but holds back for now.

“Yeah, everything really took it out of me,” Siane admits. “Thanks again, Nanu.”

“Yeah. Sweet dreams,” he murmurs, and actually sets one hand on her forehead gently, pulling it away almost as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. But Siane only smiles up at him, none too perturbed by his actions. Nanu diverts his eyes and begins to walk away, planning to do some laundry, then some cooking, but Siane’s voice stops him in his tracks.

“These blankets smell like you,” she murmurs. Nanu’s heart practically hammers out of his chest.

“Yeah. Sorry. They’re mine -” he starts, but before he can finish, she interrupts him.

“No, don’t apologize. I was mentioning it because it’s nice,” she sighs, then turns on her side, her eyes fluttering shut.

Nanu hears her voice repeating those words over and over as he washers her blankets and pillowcases, and turns over the meaning of them while he cooks. Would there be some sort of way to ask her why she thought it was nice, tonight? Maybe just slip it into conversation when she wakes up and starts eating?

Except Siane doesn’t wake up - she’s out cold. Nanu considers waking her up for food, but again, he can’t bring himself to do it. She seems to need the rest more now. As the evening wears on, turning into night, then late night, he watches TV and puts away the leftovers and throws her blankets in the dryer, but he also notices the way she tosses and turns more and more on that little couch.

There’s no way she’s comfortable on that. And she’d been sleeping on it for how long, at this point? With no complaint?

Nanu’s heart softens, and he scoops her up under her shoulders and knees, standing and holding her princess-style. She stirs a little, but she’s in a deep sleep; all she does is lean her head against his shoulder and actually snuggle a little more into him.

Nanu can’t help but think how cute that little gesture is, and this time, he doesn’t mentally berate himself for thinking of Siane as cute.

He holds her just a little closer, walking over to his bed, and gently lays her down on it, arranging the blankets swaddled around her. She again doesn’t wake, and Nanu feels a little pride in this, in knowing that he could take care of her.

He’ll sleep on the couch tonight, and at some point, they’re going to have to figure out a more comfortable place for Siane to sleep. He imagines, for a brief moment, that she might one day want to sleep in his bed with him in it, but then he reminds himself not to let his hopes get too high.

All the same, he imagines how it would be, to lay next to her, and falls asleep with this thought in his mind.

#nanu #officer nanu #kahuna nanu #siane #siane oc #nanu x siane #assuranceshipping #pokemon #sumo #pokemon sumo #commission #aph draws

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jlalafics · 5 years

Text

“Rent Control”-an Everlark AU

So I wrote an story based on this picture...

Enjoy!

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

Rent Control

“No…” Katniss scrolled down the ad on Craigslist, checking out the pictures of the apartment. The place was…small. She could live with that. However, the dimly lit bathroom and the questionable safety of the building’s laundry room were enough for her to click away from the ad. “Okay, onto the next one—”

“Katniss! Your break is over!” Johanna, her boss, called out from the front. “We need you!”

Locking her phone, she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans and stepped out of the backroom. Johanna was waiting for her at the cash register, an impatient smile on her red-stained lips.

“Johanna, there’s no one here…” The clothing boutique was empty except for the two women whose feet she could see behind their fitting room doors.

“Yeah, but I need to go!” Johanna bounced to emphasize her desperation. Katniss chuckled before waving her away. “Check on them, won’t you?”

Nodding, Katniss went to the dressing room area. “How is it going, ladies? Do you need any different sizes? Anything you want to get rid of?”

“Oh, yes!” A light voice called out as a pretty, light-haired woman peeked her head out and smiled at Katniss. “I don’t think I’m really into this.” She handed Katniss the simple black shift dress. “I’m just not into such basic colors!”

“No problem,” Katniss replied. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“My husband has a work event,” the woman explained. “It’s kind of high-brow and techie as all of San Francisco seems to be. Black seemed like the obvious choice.”

“It’s formal, right?” The voice in the room to Katniss’ right responded. “I thought black would work on you.”

“I know, Alma,” the woman in front of her said. “It’s just not me though.”

“It doesn’t look great with your coloring, to be honest,” Katniss told her. “You would do well with a jewel tone.” She walked over to one of the racks close by and pulled out the dress that she had been admiring since it was delivered to the boutique. “Would you consider this?”

Katniss held out the fuchsia dress for the woman to examine. It was floor-length with flutter sleeves and a flowing skirt. The top has a modest V-neck with a gold band underneath the ribcage.

The woman clapped excitedly. “Yes! It’s perfect! Thank you…”

“Katniss,” she told the woman. “Give that a go and I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

The dress turned out to be perfect and Katniss was thrilled as she rung the woman up. The Michael Kors dress would add a little more to her commission—she needed it.

As soon as the two women left, Johanna walked over and gives Katniss a congratulatory clap on the back.

“Want to grab us some coffee?” her boss asked. “I know you want to see your friend.” Johanna waggled her perfectly penciled brows at Katniss.

“You’re too much.” Katniss grabbed the credit card from Johanna’s hand. “But I can’t afford coffee so I’ll take you up on a freebie!”

++++++

“My favorite shop girl!”

“God Peeta, you make my job sound as pathetic as it actually is,” Katniss growled. “And, that’s coming from a guy who just stands around and makes coffee.”

“But, I do it with a smile,” her friend replied with a charming grin. “Chin up. How’s the apartment hunt going?”

“It’s not. Either I’m looking at an apartment where I’m sure someone’s been murdered or it’s in a decent neighborhood but I’m practically sleeping sitting up. Fucking techies!”

“Hey, they pay for this overpriced coffee!” Peeta argued.

“But they’ve jacked up the rent…” she whined. “I’m going to have to move back home if I don’t find a place soon.” Her parents lived in her childhood home in a neighborhood south of nowhere.

“I’m right there with you,” her friend told her. “My landlord is upping the rent in three months.” Peeta handed her usuals, a vanilla latte for her and a triple espresso for Johanna. “Hopefully, this will get you through the end of your shift—on me.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Katniss said gratefully and without a thought, she leaned over the counter to press a kiss to the man’s cheek.

Before she ends up embarrassing herself even further, Katniss rushed out of the coffee shop.

Thank God, Johanna didn’t see that.

She would never hear the end of it.

++++++

It was too good to be true.

Katniss read over the ad once more: $2800—1 bedroom, 1 bathroom in gorgeous Noe Valley. Spacious living room with fireplace, in-building washer/dryer. Must agree to one-year lease for rent-controlled price as well as meet landlord’s tenant requirements.

Below the ad was the address for the building as well as the date for the open house which happened to be today of all days—which happened to be her day off! This was more than generous for rent; it was practically median rent on Treasure Island.

The doors of the MUNI lightrail opened and she stepped down quickly to get to the sidewalk. The building was a block from her stop and Katniss hurriedly rushed in the appropriate direction. Hopefully, no one had taken the unit yet, though she could imagine that this ad would bring many desperate renters to the building.

Her gaze reached the brick building and Katniss stopped abruptly to stare up. The building was beautiful; it had ivy covering one side…there were bay windows…a stained-glass front door…

“Shop girl!”

Whipping around, Katniss was surprised to see her favorite barista slowing down to meet her.

“Coffee boy…” She groaned and nodded at the building. “Don’t tell me that you’re looking at the same place!”

“It really is too good to be true,” Peeta replied good-naturedly. “It’s probably already taken.”

“The door is still open,” Katniss informed him. “…but I really need this place!”

“So do I!” His sweet cornflower-blue eyes suddenly went somber. “My roommate is moving out in two weeks. Kind of left me in a lurch.”

“Damn it.” Katniss bit her lip, her eyes again going to her hopefully soon-to-be place of residence. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for both of us to look.”

Peeta nodded, a small smile brightening his handsome face. “Come on.” Putting an arm around her shoulders, they walked through the open door of the building. “It’s probably going to be a shithole, anyway.”

But it wasn’t.

As soon as they stepped into the foyer of the building with its marble floor and walked up to the mahogany staircase, Katniss knew that this was no ordinary building. The available apartment was on the second floor and together they ascended the stairs, reaching a white-washed hallway with a lone window at the end.

“Shit—we’re both going to like this place, aren’t we?” Peeta said, a grimace on his face.

“I guess it’s a fight to the death for it,” Katniss quipped as they walked into the open apartment.

Hardwood floors…bay windows overlooking Church Street…a gorgeous fireplace—she swept her hand over the mantle and found her fingers surprisingly dust-free. The landlord was a cleanly one; most of the places she had seen had been grimy. An open archway led into a nook where Katniss could imagine her humble IKEA table being set for Sunday breakfasts and the kitchen—neat with fairly-new appliances—had an island.

“Imagine how many loaves of bread I could bake in this oven,” Peeta murmured to himself.

“We are torturing ourselves,” she groaned.

“We’re not done yet.” Peeta took her hand and they went into the hallway adjacent to the entrance. The walls were painted white as well and they took a peek into the pristine bathroom with its clawfoot tub. “Seriously?”

“I can’t even look in the bedroom after this,” Katniss protested as her friend pulls her along.

The bedroom was immaculate; the afternoon light shone in through the wide windows and the opposite wall was a closet obviously made for someone of Carrie Bradshaw’s standards. Katniss could picture herself just lounging on her bed and catching up on her Netflix shows.

She looked to Peeta. “So, what do you think is the catch?”

He shrugged. “We might as well find out. The landlord is across the hallway.”

After a final wave to the dream apartment, they walked out just as the adjacent door opened and a disgruntled woman walked out.

The woman, impeccably dressed in her pantsuit, glared at them. “Good luck with them.”

“Ah, there’s the rub,” Katniss said to Peeta as he knocked on the door. “The landlord is a nightmare.”

“Now that’s a little harsh—” They turned to the dark-haired man before them, dressed casually in a flannel and worn jeans. “At least get to know me before hating my guts.” He widened the door for them. “Come in, come in…”

They stepped into the apartment; the sage-green walls and plush furniture immediately calmed Katniss’ senses. A record player crooned Creedence Clearwater Revival to the succulents that lined the windows.

“I’m Haymitch Abernathy,” the man said to them. “Owner of this humble abode. The wife is just grabbing more treats for potential couples.”

“Peeta Mellark.” Her friend held out his hand and Haymitch shook it firmly.

Katniss also reached out, shaking the man’s hand. “Katniss…you said couples?”

“The tenant requirement is that anyone living there must be married,” Haymitch stated. He settled down on the beige couch and reached for the glass on the apothecary coffee table. “How long have you two been hitched?”

Married?

And without thought or reason, Katniss found herself replying, “A year.”

She could practically feel Peeta’s stabbing stare.

“Hello, hello!” A familiar voice called out and they both turned to see a woman rushing over to them with a tray. The woman stopped and met her eyes. “Katniss?”

It was the Michael Kors dress…Katniss quickly pulled the memory of her holding the credit card of the woman in front of her.

“Effie…how did the dress go?” she asked congenially.

Effie beamed as she placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table, before sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Haymitch.

“It was a hit!” The woman looked between them. “I didn’t realize you were married.”

“Oh yeah…” Katniss nodded at the gob smacked man next to her. “This is my husband, Peeta…Mellark.”

She should really remember his last name.

“You two are adorable!” Effie gushed. “So young…but so were we—” She looked affectionately at her husband. “And here we are still tolerating each other.”

Haymitch smiled tenderly at his wife. “Well, you put up with me and that’s saying something.”

“Excuse me,” Peeta abruptly called out. “Out of curiosity, why just married couples?”

“We found that single renters tend to break their lease agreement within six months because they can’t afford the rent,” Effie explained. “And roommates often leave after awhile while non-married couples sometimes end up splitting up—it just becomes a mess. At least with a married couple, it’s two people who are bound by law and we can count on them being in the apartment for some time.”

“Longevity and loyalty are important to us,” Haymitch added, seriousness in his steel-eyed stare. “The people in this building are like our family. So, we’re very protective about who we let in.”

“That is definitely important,” Katniss replied. She looked to a stone-faced Peeta before beginning her appeal for the dream apartment. “We would love to be considered. Obviously, you know that I work at Johanna’s and Peeta works in the coffee house next door. We’ve been at our jobs for more than a year. We can get paystubs as proof of income—”

“I have a feeling about you two,” Effie said. She looked to her husband who nodded in agreement. “Pending the deposit and if you two agree, we would love for you to make your home here.”

++++++

“Are you insane?” As soon as they stepped out of the building, Peeta turned to her. “Why would you say we’re married?”

“I don’t know!” Katniss exclaimed. “It just happened.” She peered at him. “You’re not married already, are you?”

“No!” He burst out. “But still—you didn’t need to lie.”

“Tell me where you’re going find a place and price like that,” Katniss pointed out. “Might as well move to Treasure Island.”

They walked away from their future home. “So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“We pretend,” she told him bluntly. “And after a year when we’ve saved a little bit more money, we move out or just say we’re splitting up.”

“And, you think this is going to work?”

“It does or we’re homeless,” Katniss replied.

They walked in silence towards the lightrail island. When they reach her stop, Peeta turned to her.

“Fine. We do this,” he agreed. “One year.”

Katniss let out the sigh of relief. “Deal.” She took his hand. “You now have yourself a wife.”

Peeta chuckled quietly. “Just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“What’s your last name?”

++++++

One week later…

“I seriously cannot believe you’re doing this,” Johanna muttered as they walk up the stairs leading up to San Francisco City Hall. “I know that you’ve had a thing for Peeta—but pretending to be married to get an apartment? That’s just wrong.”

“It’s not like that. All of us aren’t like you,” Katniss replied as she held her bag open for security before walking through the metal detector. “We didn’t get a house from a divorce.”

“I earned that house!” Johanna followed suit through the metal detector. “Do you know how many blowies I gave him before he decided that it was my fault that he couldn’t get it up? I can stick the hard end of a banana in the back of my throat and feel nothing.” The security guard chuckled as he handed Johanna her purse back. “Tell me that’s not devotion.”

“That is a little more than I needed to know about my boss.” Katniss reached into her purse and pulled out the fragile hairpiece. It had been lying in her drawer since she moved to California. “Can you help me?”

“Give it.” Johanna takes the hairpiece, clipping it on each side of Katniss’ raven waves. She arranged the lace so that it subtly brushed her cheekbones. “This is gorgeous.”

“It was my grandmother’s,” she said quietly. “Her and Gramps married during the war. It’s the one thing she left me after she died…I hate to think that it’s being used for something not real.”

Johanna placed her hands on Katniss’ shoulders, her eyes affectionately concerned.

“So, for now, pretend that this is real. Most marriages turn out to be shams, anyway—and you get a smoking-hot husband out of it.”

Katniss snorted. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

A wolf-whistle cut across the air, echoing throughout the main floor, and she turned to find Peeta in a grey suit approaching her. A tall, dark-skinned man followed behind him dressed in a navy suit.

“Mrs. Mellark…” Peeta slowed in front of her, looking over her fitted lace dress before meeting her veil-eyed gaze. “You clean up nice.”

“That’s what happens when you work in the best clothing boutique in San Francisco,” Katniss replied, her hands reaching to adjust his red tie. “You clean up nice, too.”

“That’s so cute,” the man behind Peeta said with an amused smile. “Y’all are already taking care of each other.”

“This is Cinna, my soon-to-be ex-roommate,” Peeta informed Katniss. “He’s ditching me for New York, but I don’t blame him since his cushy executive job is paying for his flat.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katniss said and shook the man’s hand. “I guess it worked out in my favor that you were leaving.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Cinna replied. “Peeta showed me the apartment. What a sweet deal for San Francisco! I wouldn’t mind pretending to be married to this guy for such a place.”

Johanna coughed and Katniss pulled her forward. “This is Johanna, my boss and pretend MOH.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Johanna said. “And, thanks for the coffees, Peeta.”

“No problem,” Peeta replied. He looked around at the crowded floor. “Should we get on with this?”

Katniss nodded. “Right.”

Together, they walked to the wide staircase that led to the mayoral offices. It was a popular spot for ceremonies and pictures. There were already several couples taking their post-ceremony photos.

Cinna reached into his pocket, taking out a small digital camera. “Let’s get you two together.”

Awkwardly, Peeta took her hand as Katniss pressed herself against him.

“Is this alright?” she asked Cinna.

“No. You look like you’re having an edema,” Johanna said bluntly as Cinna chuckled in agreement. “Come on, make me believe that you’ve seen each other naked!”

Several couples stopped to stare at them.

“Alright!” Katniss wove her arms around Peeta’s neck as he pulled her close, his strong arms encircling her waist. Through the lace of her dress, she could feel his heart pounding and she met his sweet blues. “You okay, Mr. Mellark?”

Peeta grinned and the breath suddenly left her body. He really was a good-looking man.

She could never get someone like him in real life.

He leaned forward, their lips a breath apart. “I’m perfect…Mrs. Mellark.”

“We got it!” Cinna called out.

Johanna looked over Cinna’s shoulder at the picture on the camera’s screen, nodding in approval.

“Not bad…not bad at all.”

Together, she and Peeta sighed in relief.

They could do this…this was after all for the perfect apartment.

“We’re not done yet,” Cinna told them. “We still have a year’s worth of your marriage to document.” He smirked, looking at the photos—some good, some awkward. “These are going to look good. You better name your first fake baby after me.”

++++++

Effie had been there to meet them at their front door a week later. Haymitch couldn’t take the time off to join them as Effie informed the couple that he was stuck in meetings for the startup he was managing.

“I have no idea about those sorts of things,” she said as she held out their key. “Why don’t you give it a try? If there’s an issue, we can just hop down the block to the hardware store on the corner.”

Peeta took the key, inserting it into the bolt and turning it easily. “Looks like we’re good to go.” He opened the door and turned to Katniss. “Before we go in—”

He quickly scooped her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, mostly out of fear of faceplanting on their new floors.

“What are you doing?”

“This is our home now,” Peeta said, giving her a winning smile. Behind them, Effie cooed. “I have to carry you over the threshold.” He leaned closer to her ear. “We’re supposed to be in love, aren’t we? Just go with it.”

Katniss nods before placing a light kiss on his lips. He started at the motion and something inside her bellowed in triumph at the thought of making him come undone.

“Well then, carry me over, Mr. Mellark. We have a lot of unpacking to do.”

Together, Peeta entered their place before placing Katniss gently back on her feet.

He winked. “I’ll start bringing in the boxes.”

Nodding, she went to open some of the bags that they were able to store in the apartment before their official move. Effie and Haymitch were generous for allowing them to do this.

“Is that your wedding photo?”

Katniss turned to see Effie behind her, her gaze on the black-and-white photo that she had just placed on the mantle.

“Yes. It was a small wedding,” she explained. “My family is all the way in Connecticut and Peeta’s family is in D.C. so they weren’t able to make it. The whole idea of getting married was very spur-of-the-moment.”

“Really?” Effie was an obvious romantic, though Katniss found it an endearing. “Oh, to be young and so spontaneous. So, how did the proposal happen?”

“Well…uh…”

Shit. They never really came up with a story.

“Katniss was staying over at my place.” Peeta placed a box on the floor in front of them. “We were having breakfast and discussing what we should do that day. She suggested that we get to the mountain of laundry in my room—and I suggested that we get married.”

A snort escaped Katniss’ lips before she could stop it.

Effie’s bright eyes went wide and she looked to Katniss. “And, what did you say?”

“I kind of just said…sure,” she answered.

“It was more of a—” Peeta gave them a half-hearted shrug that looked believably like something she would do. “—followed by a less-than-enthusiastic ‘Sure.’” He put an arm around Katniss’ shoulders. “As if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to marry me.”

“You do love me.” Her head went to his shoulder. “Surly traits and all.”

In response, Peeta placed a kiss on her temple. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“You two are just too good to be real!” Effie exclaimed. “I’ll leave you to finish unpacking. Also, tomorrow we’ll be having a little get-together in the backyard so you can meet the neighbors. I think you’re going to fit in here perfectly.”

She smiled at them dreamily.

I’m just going to leave you to…christen your new place. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, Effie closed the apartment door behind her.

“Did she give us permission to bone all over the apartment?”

Peeta smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

Katniss reached into an open box, throwing a cushion in his direction.

He chuckled, catching the cushion easily.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Going to her, Peeta pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Welcome home, Mrs. Mellark.”

End of Part One…

This, I hope, will only be a three-parter.

This was inspired by a meme about dating in the Bay Area. Also, I’ve been watching Tales of the City on Netflix.

The current average rate for an one-bedroom apartment rental in San Francisco is $3,609, while rent in the neighborhood of Noe Valley runs at about $3,206. The lowest rental rate is in Treasure Island, which is the halfway point across the Bay Bridge, and is $2,616.

Just some food for thought on how ridiculous it is to live in the Bay Area…but damn do I love living here.

Next: Meeting the neighbors

Till then, JLaLa

#Rent Control #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Three-Parter #Modern AU

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sunflowers-and-bucky · 6 years

Text

Wouldn’t Dream Of It

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve’s going on a date and reader isn’t all that happy about it, but tries to hide it. You can’t hide anything from Steve, though, he knows you too well.

Words: 3k

Warnings: slight angst, pining, lots of fluff, mentions of Sharon xStevee (not what you think)

A/N: As always a big thank you to @angryteapot for beta reading this<3

Remember that feedback is very welcome and I appreciate it a lot!

You hadn’t had a day off in what felt like forever, so now that you had one you took full advantage of it and slept in. After the hell of a mission you just came back from, you figured you deserved some rest.

When you finally emerged from your room at 11 am and entered the joint living room and kitchen of the tower it wasn’t that crowded. Most of the tower’s residents had already begun going about their day, but your face lit up as you saw the only person you really wanted to see - Steve.

He was sitting on a chair by the kitchen island with his nose buried in a book. The sunlight shining through the window made his blonde locks look almost golden, and he looked devastatingly handsome.

Once he looked up from his book and his eyes locked with yours, a wide grin spread across his face.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?” he greeted you and you stuck your tongue out at him for the nickname, which made him laugh a heartfelt laugh that rumbled deep in his chest, and was so Steve.

“I haven’t slept that long in ages,” you groaned happily, stretching your body as if to prove your point. Steve snorted and smiled at you while you dug through the fridge for some juice.

“Well, I’m glad you got some sleep,” Steve grimaced. “Clint decided 2 am was an appropriate time to blast Taylor Swift.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the mental image Steve’s story brought to your mind. Suddenly you were very happy your room was on the other side of the tower from Clint’s - even if that meant you were far away from Steve too.

“Seriously?” you laughed even more, unable to contain yourself. “Wow, Clint really is something.”

“You have no idea.” Steve had put his book away, turning his full attention to you. He watched you with a smile across his lips while you rummaged through the cabinets for some food.

At his comment, you turned around and pointed a pretend accusatory finger at the super soldier. “Excuse you, I do have an idea. I was on a 28 hours stakeout with him last year, remember? I thought I was gonna kill him.”

This time it was Steve’s turn to laugh, the memory of you coming back from the stakeout mission replaying in his mind. You laughed with him, the domestic feel of the whole situation warming your heart in a way no one but Steve could.

“So,” you said finally sitting down on the counter opposite him. “What are we doing today?”

Steve opened his mouth, a smile still playing across his lips about to answer when Nat’s voice sounded from the other side of the room. She was just walking into the room with Clint trailing behind her, heading to the fridge for some food.

“Oooo, you haven’t heard?” the redhead asked you teasingly.

“Heard what?” you grimaced and you could tell Steve was trying to make her shut up with a glare, but Nat only pretended not to see him.

“Stevie’s got a date.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him and you could feel Steve sigh from opposite you.

While Natasha seemed to find this extremely amusing you couldn’t help feeling anything but amused. Your heart sunk to your stomach and a lump started to form in your throat as you stared at Nat for a moment, letting the words sink in.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for Steve. You two had been close since you first got to the tower. Steve had welcomed you with open arms and you quickly grew attached. He was nice, funny, and he never judged you. He made you feel comfortable, safe.

Who wouldn’t have fallen for him?

So the words leaving Natasha’s mouth stung and they stung deep. Steve couldn’t know that, though, so you sucked it up and took a deep breath before turning to him with a forced smile.

“You do?” you asked, trying to sound somewhat casual.

Steve looked at you warily as if he was trying to read you, but you remained stoic.

“I, um, well, I, I mean-” he rambled before he got cut off by Nat.

“Yeah, he does. With that agent, Sharon.” Clint had found whatever food he was looking for and had hopped up on the counter, watching the interaction with interest. “You know Sharon, right Y/N?”

“Yeah, I think I do. Blonde, round face?” You kept your eyes firmly fixed on Nat as you spoke and even though you couldn’t see him you could tell Steve didn’t like it and tried gaining your attention. She nodded enthusiastically.

“She’s really nice,” Natasha stated and it felt like someone was twisting your heart around in your chest.

Steve reached out to rest his hand on your lower arm, a gesture that was more than normal between the two of you, especially when one of you were uncomfortable, but as soon as he laid his arm there you flinched away, trying to mask it by standing up to put away your glass and plate with half-eaten food.

With your back towards Steve you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“She sounds amazing,” you forced out as you put your dishes into the washer machine. Turning around with a tight smile on your lips you met Steve’s uneasy eyes. “I’d love to hear more about her, but I just remembered I have to go meet Tony for something. Good luck on your date.”

Before Steve could say anything else you were out the door, heading for the privacy of your room, tears burning at your eyes.

Figuring the best way to deal with the situation was to be away from Steve for a little while, you decided to spend your Saturday alone in your room. It wasn’t that bad if you were being honest. You liked alone-time, found it relaxing even.

No matter how much you liked it, though, you couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting off to Steve and how you would rather spend your Saturday alone with him. As soon as you thought of him, though, your mind flooded with images of him on a date with this Sharon person and you quickly found something to distract yourself with.

You were halfway through a movie on Netflix you hadn’t seen yet when you heard a soft knock on the door. Your head snapped up and you stared at the door. Pausing the movie you continued to stare, not making any move to open the door.

“Y/N?”

Steve’s soft voice sounded muffled through the door, but you could make it out loud and clear. Your blood froze as you tried to figure out how to deal with the situation.

You could hear the hurt and uncertainness in his voice and you knew that you were hurting him by avoiding him like that, but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you needed some time alone to clear your head.

The only thing that was less fair to him than staying away was actually being with him and showing him how upset you were. He was allowed to have a love life. You didn’t own him. You couldn’t take this out on him. You just needed some time to think.

So you leaned back against the pillows and kept your gaze fixed on the door, waiting for him to leave.

Steve’s knuckles hit the door one more time, a bit more hesitant this time.

“Y/N?” he repeated. “Please.”

After another minute of silence, you heard Steve sigh. You heard something that sounded like a defeated ‘okay,’ before his footsteps sounded down the hall, finally disappearing.

Letting out a breath you sat up and ran your hands down your face, sitting still for a moment before hitting play on your movie and falling back against the headboard.

The day flew by surprisingly fast and you eventually found yourself getting hungry. Checking the time on your phone you saw that it was well past 10 pm. Only then did you realize that you hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Maybe it was time to eat dinner?

Assuming Steve was still out on his date you got out of bed and stretched your body, tired from laying in bed all day, and made your way towards the kitchen, head already filling with thoughts of what to eat.

10 pm wasn’t that late, but the kitchen was usually quiet and dark at that time of night, most of the Avengers off doing something else.

So you were surprised to walk into the kitchen and find the dimmed lights on and someone sitting at the counter. You were even more surprised when you saw that that someone was Steve.

Walking slowly into the kitchen he looked up at you. Out of habit, he smiled at you, but it faltered slightly as if he remembered that you had been avoiding and ignoring him. In return, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and he shifted in his seat.

You felt like a deer caught in the headlights, just standing there looking at him, completely forgetting why you even walked into the room.

“Hi…” Steve said after a moment and you were suddenly reminded to move.

“Hey,” you replied, wanting to sound confident, but the words came out more like a whisper.

Making your way towards the fridge you opened the door and looked inside. You could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole in your back and you had to stop shivers from running down your spine.

“Didn’t expect you back so soon,” you said before turning to face him. You could tell he was confused and unsure so you figured to small talk just to prove that you weren’t mad at him. You just needed some time alone. “Date that bad?”

You tried to keep the hopeful tone out of your voice, but you weren’t sure if you were very successful. Steve was still staring at you, completely forgetting the cereal he had been eating.

A beat passed before he answered.

“I didn’t go.” He finally broke eye contact, opting to look down at the bowl sitting in front of him and shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Your jaw dropped slightly and you stared at him, brows furrowed as you tried to process his words. Why didn’t he go?

Pulling some leftovers out of the fridge, you started preparing them, trying to figure out how to respond. Turning around, you leaned back against the counter and looked at him.

“Why?” you asked quietly, pulling his attention from his cereal to you. His soft eyes locked with yours again, it was like he was looking straight into your soul, and you had to stop yourself from shuddering.

“It upset you,” he whispered.

You felt your heart grow heavy with guilt as you stared at him, dumbfounded for the second time in mere minutes. Suddenly you felt your feet moving away from the counter and over to the kitchen island to sit opposite him.

His eyes never left you as you moved. Grabbing his hand you looked him dead in the eyes.

“Steve, why did you do that?” you sounded almost desperate and he furrowed his brows at you, confused.

“It upset you,” he repeated firmly. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Frowning at his words, you looked away from his eyes. You looked at the cabinet behind him instead, trying to find words. He wasn’t angry, you knew him well enough to tell, but you didn’t understand what he was feeling and that frustrated you.

“I - I wasn’t upset,” you tried weakly, but Steve jokingly scoffed and gave you a look that reminded you that he knew you just as well as you knew him.

Sighing you dragged your free hand down your face before rubbing your temple.

“Fine. Maybe I was a little upset. Maybe I didn’t like the idea of you going out with that Sharon person, but Steve, that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. I don’t own you. I - you - you shouldn’t - you shouldn’t have-” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath to keep from stuttering you met his eyes again.

“You shouldn’t have canceled the date.”

Steve sat his bowl to the side before gently taking your other hand in his and giving them both a soft squeeze. His blue eyes were sparkling as he studied your face carefully.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m not entirely sure why it upset you - I mean I have some hopes, but I don’t know, I just know that it upset you. And I really don’t care what the situation is, I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

You stared at him, mesmerized, as he brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. The act grounded you and made your heart race at the same time.

A moment passed before Steve spoke again. “Can you - can you tell me why?” he asked quietly. When you looked at him in confusion he added, “Can you tell me why it upset you? That I was going out with Sharon.”

You looked down and tried to pull your hands back, but he held them firmly. He gave them a reassuring squeeze and you looked up at him.

“I just,” you started, trying to find the words. “I don’t know. I know I have no claim on you, but I don’t like the idea of you going out on a date. It just - I can’t say it, you’ll hate me.”

Steve chuckled at your words and it made you smile too. He looked at you with amused eyes and shook his head. “Y/N, sweetheart, I promise you - I could never hate you. Please just tell me. I need to hear you say it.”

Something about Steve’s words and the way he looked at you gave you a sudden surge of confidence. Taking a deep breath, you looked into his deep blue eyes.

“I love you, Steve.”

Steve’s already-wide smile grew even wider, and he dropped his head bashfully, before looking back up at you with a look in his eyes that made your heart soar. Releasing one of your hands, he brought his own up to cup your jaw and bring you slowly closer. His gaze drifted between your lips and your eyes as if asking for permission.

You nodded, slightly out of breath as you looked at Steve. His face was so close to yours, the dimmed lights seemingly making him glow. Leaning down, he slowly pressed his lips to yours, and it was like something inside you just clicked. Letting one of your hands snake around his wide shoulders and into his hair, you tugged slightly, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss.

Steve groaned lowly against you, bringing his other hand up to your face and tugging you closer. The kiss was slow and passionate, lighting a fire in both your chests, one you never wanted to put out.

The kitchen island between you was beginning to become a problem as you both tried to get closer to each other. You briefly pulled away from Steve - a displeased sound escaping his throat as you did so - to quickly climb over the island. Steve moved back in his seat so there’d be space for you in his lap, pressed between his body and the island.

When you were finally in his arms, Steve leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. Your lips melded together perfectly, and you thought to yourself that you could probably kiss Steve every day for the rest of your life and never grow tired.

“I love you too, Y/N” Steve mumbled in between kisses as you hummed happily against his lips. Steve’s hands went around you, sneaking up the back of your shirt to trace patterns against the skin there, and you gave his hair an affectionate tug.

You had no idea how long you and Steve sat there kissing for before he pulled away again, resting his forehead against yours. His heavy breath brushed against your lips and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. Once Steve saw your smile, a matching one immediately tugged on his kiss-swollen lips.

“Can you say it again?” Steve whispered, and you searched his wonderful blue eyes for a moment before realizing what he meant. When you did, your smile grew even wider, and you brushed your nose against his.

“I love you, Stevie.” Sighing happily he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you too, baby.”

The term of endearment made your heart flutter and Steve must’ve noticed, with his chest pressed closely against yours, because he chuckled. Dropping his head to the crook of your neck, he dragged his nose against the soft skin there, and you sighed.

“Y’know, I only said yes to go on that date because I thought you didn’t feel the same about me. I tried to get over you,” Steve whispered against your neck. “Figured the best way to do so was to meet other people, so I gave in to Nat, who had been bugging me about going on dates for weeks. When I saw your reaction in the kitchen I realized that maybe I was wrong.”

You laughed breathily against his hair that you had started playing with during his confession. He hummed happily at your actions, and you could feel it vibrate against your throat.

“Yeah, you were pretty wrong,” you breathed out and pressed a quick kiss at the skin beneath his ear. “Please never try and get over me, Steve.”

Coming up from your neck, Steve tightened his grip around you and looked down at you, love written all over his face. He leaned closer to your lips before speaking, and you closed your eyes in bliss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #fluff #slight angst #reader insert #my writing

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ravenwritesstuff · 5 years

Text

Best Laid Plans (5/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Helsa, established Kristanna, lotsa frohana Rating: T for now, M later almost for sure A/N: Take it and go.

[ Part one ] [ Part two ] [ Part Three ] [ Part Four ]

Her alarm goes off after three hours of sleep and she can hardly move enough to turn it off. Sun peeks in around the edges of her curtains. She needs to get up and go about her day and force herself back into a regular rhythm. Normally she is quite good at it but this time it seems impossible.

It isn't that she is unused to this routine. After a thirty hour event she often takes a long nap to reset her mind and push her through to the next night and a normal bedtime. While never easy she is typically able to roll out of bed in her studio apartment and get started on whatever task is at the top of her list, but today….

She swings her feet over the edge and sits up, head swimming, and she can feel every inch of her body. She knows if she stretches her spine will snap, muscles releasing, but she can hardly find the energy. She tilts her head side to side, neck cracking, and there is laundry to do. There is laundry to do and errands to run. There is laundry to do and errands to run and things to return and clean and this is her only day off this week and she has so much to catch up on and -

She can feel it.

When she is more awake, more lucid, she can convince herself that she is making things up. She tells herself that whatever symptoms she thinks she is having is just stress, exhaustion, dehydration…. But here in that funny place between being asleep and awake she knows.

This is not just something she is imagining.

She bends over her bedside trashcan and vomits.

When she is done she wipes her eyes and mouth with a tissue. She takes a deep, shuddering breath.

She has today.

She will take it.

Sleep is for the dead, and she isn't there yet.

She stands up and starts her day by cleaning her mess.

….

Dinner that night is at Anna and Kristoff's modest home. The team gathers around takeout and discusses the event, what went well, what didn't, where improvements can be made, and how they can grow. It is informal, less structured than Elsa likes, but she knows that the community of her team is just as important as the efficiency especially considering this is supposed to be their day off. Also none of them brought up Hans Westergaard for which she would be eternally grateful.

They are past the business point of the evening now. Elsa is in the kitchen putting dishes in the washer as Anna and Kristoff split the leftovers into plastic containers for everyone to take home. Rapunzel and Eugene always take home whatever anyone else doesn't want because Rapunzel will eat anything. The rest goes in the Bjorgman’s fridge to share later. Anna always saves aside a portion of something sweet for her sister, but she doesn’t need much.

She isn’t ever that hungry. Even less so recently.

By the time it is all said and done it is just the three of them: Anna, Kristoff, and Elsa.

She remembers when Kristoff had first come on the scene, how she had been unimpressed but quickly won over by his devotion to her sister. Now she can hardly picture Anna without Kristoff by her side and for that she is thankful. Anna thrives when she has someone steady beside her. Kristoff is definitely steady.

They stand around the kitchen island cleaning up the last of the mess and Kristoff grabs a leash and harness off a hook on a nearby wall.

“You ladies seem to have this under control. Sven needs his walk.” He clasps the contraption onto a mutt big enough to be a horse. “We’ll be back soon.”

He is off before there can be any discussion and Elsa gets that tingling feeling down her spine that this was not a spontaneous idea on Kristoff's part, no matter how much he loves the gigantic Sven. She pauses wiping the counter to see Anna all too diligently avoiding her gaze.

This has happened enough that Elsa knows it is best to just get to the point. It is almost always the same point anyway, but this time she does not feel as prepared.

“All right. What is it?” She pops a hip and lands her hand upon it.

“What is what?” Anna straightens a towel on the oven handle for the thirtieth time.

“Whatever it is you aren't saying. That’s what.” Elsa steels herself, ready to deflect any foolish accusation Anna might throw her way - especially if it had to do with one particular groomsman.

Anna bites her lip, still not meeting her sister's eyes, and Elsa knows now what is coming. She wishes she hadn’t asked, but now:

“It's happening. Isn't it?”

Anna’s voice is small, as if she can hide the question while asking, but it hits Elsa like a freight train. She remembers the look on Anna's face after they had changed yesterday, remembers the look in her eyes as she had tested the waters of this conversation. How long has she suspected…?

Elsa doesn't want to lie but she is also not ready to admit the truth. Anna has bared her fair share of Elsa’s troubles. Elsa does not want to burden her with more than she needs to carry now.

“Anna. If there was something to know - you will be the first to know it.”

Anna looks at her then, blue eyes sharp and clear. “What are your symptoms?”

She thinks of the headaches, the vomit this morning, and tells a bald-faced lie: “I’m not having any.”

Anna's eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

“It is my body. I am pretty sure I would know. This isn't exactly my first go at this.”

“Yeah, but… this time is different."

Elsa sighs. Her sister sound so bleak and she supposed she understands. The situation is grim at best, but it is all she has known. It is all she will ever know. She supposes it is all Anna will ever know of her sister as well. That thought stings. She will do her best to protect Anna as long as she can.

"What was it that mom said? Today has enough trouble. Don’t take tomorrow’s.”

Anna doesn’t smile, not distracted by Elsa’s attempt.

"But you will tell me, right? You will tell me when it is today?”

Elsa is good at lying. She has to be, but Anna is the hardest one to fool. She puts on her best poker face and meets her sister's eyes.

"I will tell you."

Anna smiles.

Elsa has to decide if it if fake or not and suddenly the tables are turned.

They don’t mention it again when Anna drives her home.

….

She sleeps through her alarm.

In all of her adult life that has only ever happened once and it was from a power failure and the alarm itself didn’t go off.

She pops up ten minutes after she is already supposed to be at work to her phone buzzing with text messages from Anna, Rapunzel, Kristoff, Eugene….

And they probably all think she is dead. She can’t blame them, but she also doesn’t have a single second to waste in replying to their messages.

She also hardly has time to register that today, as opposed to yesterday, she feels fine. She has no nausea, no headache - nothing.

Her symptoms could have just been fatigue and stress from the wedding. There is no way to know for sure, but she really doesn’t have time to think about it.

The days that actually count against her are so far and few between at this point that she just moves forward. Elsa does not like dramatics and she will not indulge in them.

The weather, however, has a different idea.

The world outside her window is a deluge. Everything outside of her window is gray and bleak, but that happens. She has a plan for it. Her umbrella sits in its proper place by her door in its own small stand. She will be fine.

There is no time for breakfast which is fine because she usually skips it anyway. She grabs a granola bar just in case and will get her coffee at the office.

She does her hair and makeup in a flurry (a low braided bun with just enough mascara and blush to pop her features) because there are no meetings today (which is good because if she was late to a meeting with a client - she shudders). All she has to do today is show up and answer questions (hopefully through email) but she would deal with it either way. She opts for a shapeless navy blue dress that hits just below her knee to combat dealing with a wet hem all day and secures her locket in place around her neck.

The beauty of her job and living space is that it is only three blocks from each other.

She always walks.

No matter the weather.

But right now, when she is running late, she sure wishes it was only one block. Or maybe she could convert her office to her bedroom. She is there enough.

She puts on her trusty rain boots as thunder crashes outside.

It will be a soggy walk but she has done it before. She will do it again and again and again for as long as she is able.

When she isn’t so rushed she feels lucky to be able to walk to work since she cannot drive. Whenever she needs to meet a client she catches a cab or (depending on the client) orders a car service. More often than not Anna picks her up and takes her where they need to go. It keeps things simple. She likes the predictability of it all, the reliability. It makes everything else that much more manageable.

She grabs her purse and stuffs a pair of sensible flats in to change into once she reaches the office. Then with her lunchbox and umbrella in tow she dashes out into the hallway. When she gets outside she pops up her black umbrella and starts down the sidewalk at as brisk a pace as her boots will allow.

It is gusty. She hadn’t realized, but about half way in to her walk a strong swoop of wind catches her umbrella and pulls. Elsa does her best to fight it while juggling her purse and lunch and trying to down a granola bar and respond to the distressed texts and calls to let them know she is on her way but it is a losing battle.

The umbrella flips inside out just as the rain picks up from torrential to basically a waterfall. It takes all of five seconds before she is soaked to the bone. Unfortunately it takes about ten seconds to fix her traitorous umbrella so by the time she gets herself sorted it is rather a moot point.

If she wasn't already nearly half an hour late she would turn back around and change, but she will just have to make due at this point. From the outpouring of texts from her family and colleagues she does not have time to do anything but show up.

So with rain dripping down her nose, pooling in her boots, and making her shift dress cling to her skin she finally makes it to the steps of E&A Events. It is a modest brick building that shares a foyer with several other local businesses. In the heart of the city it is a sleek mix of chrome and brick that has been arranged in a way that is both modern and welcoming. She bee lines to the frosted glass door with their logo etched into it and slogs inside soaked and humiliated.

She is met by a frantic, yet enthusiastic, Rapunzel.

“Elsa! Hi! Let me take your umbrella.” The springy brunette grabs the handle right from Elsa’s hand. Elsa blinks - stunned. Even for Rapunzel this greeting is over the top.

She bends to pull off her water-logged boots as Rapunzel shakes her traitorous umbrella onto the hardwood entry hall floor.

“Pascal’s gonna be living in this hall mopping up messes if this rain doesn’t stop.” Rapunzel laughed. “It’s a miracle Mister Westergaard didn’t slip and crack his head open the second he came in. You didn’t update the calendar so I didn’t know he was coming and -”

Elsa nearly loses her balance as she pulls off her second boot, the last shred of her dignity saved only by the thought that there are thirteen possible opportunities for who it could be other than the one she dreads the most.

“Mister Westergaard?” Her stomach flips back and forth, but she manages to keep her tone even. “He was here?”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “Not was. Is here. What? Did you forget about your appointment?”

Elsa stares at Rapunzel for a long moment, mind not computing what she is being told. Surely Rapunzel is not telling her that Hans Westergaard is there, in their office, at that very moment except the look on Rapunzel’s face says that is exactly what is being said. Elsa almost runs back out in the rain, but instead she rolls back her shoulders and places her boots neatly by the door. No one needs to know how fast her mind is racing beneath her professional exterior.

“I must have gotten my days mixed up.” She buys herself a bit of time as she presses a soaked tendril behind one ear. “Has he been waiting long?”

Rapunzel looks at her watch. “Twenty two minutes.”

Elsa groans inwardly. “Who is with him?”

“Well it was me and Eugene - but then Anna and Kristoff got here and they took over. Hans is really insistent about talking to you specifically.”

And although Elsa has never breathed a word about anything that happened that night to anyone - not even Anna - she knows that everyone knows at least the bare bones of the situation. Her cheeks heat.

If she had ever suspected he actually would show up at her office she never would have -

“I need to talk to Anna.”

“But she’s with -”

“Yes. I know.” Elsa cuts in. “Could you please go in and tell her she has an urgent call that she needs to take in private?”

A wash of understanding floods Rapunzel’s face. She nods, razored bob slashing across her cheeks at the motion.

“Yes. Yeah. Okay. Got it.” She puts Elsa’s traitorous umbrella in the stand and gives her a thumbs up. “I got this.”

Elsa forces a smile, too distracted to even consider mustering a real one, and watches as Rapunzel goes to the wide frosted double doors that lead to the client meeting room. She tucks herself into the shadowed corner as Rapunzel goes in and waits there until she and Anna return a moment later.

“There you are! I’ve been texting you!” Anna says as she reaches out to hug Elsa but stops when she touches her shoulders. “And you’re soaked. What happened?”

“It’s been a long morning.”

“It’s only 9:30.”

“Still.” She does not need to say more. Elsa knows Anna understands in the way she does not press the matter.

Instead she skips forward. “Hans Westergaard is here.”

“So Rapunzel said.” She keeps her voice even “What does he want?”

“Well…” Anna spreads her hands in front of herself. “I don’t really know? An event of some kind to be sure, but he is not exactly forthcoming. He says he wants to talk to you about it first.”

Elsa’s mind goes a thousand directions.

“But - I don't have a vision board.” She can hardly think over the pounding of her heart. “I - I haven’t had time to put together an intake package and what about the Clemmons wedding? I don’t know how we could possibly take on another project when - he has to go. There is just no way - ”

Anna catches Elsa’s emphatic hands in her and cuts her off with a worried stare.

“Okay. Slow down. Elsa - what exactly is going on here?”

Elsa feels her defenses rising in the midst of her unprofessional behavior. “I just think we should think twice before even considering taking this on. It could be beyond our capability, our scope. And if we can’t meet and exceed expectations then think of the liabilities.”

Anna’s face scrunches. “I think what you meant to say there is that this is the break we have been working for! It could mean the biggest leap of clientele in the history of our lives with one event. Elsa - this is the Westergaards. We may as well plan something for the governor - or the president - but they don’t have nearly as much money.”

Elsa knows Anna is right but she cannot stop the riot rhythm of her heart at the idea of spending any kind of extended period of time working with Hans Westergaard. She thinks of all the meetings, the phone calls, the shopping trips and vendor consults that they would complete side-by-side as she did with all her clients. She thinks of the intimacy that accompanies her role guiding people through the planning process and seeing their tastes and preferences under a magnifying glass. She cannot do that with him. She will not. It will break her.

“Anna.” Her head throbs. She struggles for a way to put what she feels into words without saying too much. “This just isn’t going to work.”

Anna releases Elsa’s hands to grip her shoulders, fabric squelching under her fingers, face softening as she picks up on her sister’s distress. “You’ve gotta help me understand this one sis. Did something happen at the wedding that you aren’t telling me?”

Elsa is in a corner and she knows it. If there is even a chance of getting Anna in that corner with her she is going to have to come clean. She looks down and presses clenched fists to her eyes.

“He asked me out.”

Anna is quiet for a long moment and Elsa is not sure if she heard her, but she will be damned if she repeats herself.

Then, tentatively: “You have been asked out before…?”

Anna phrases it as a question even though she knows the answer. Elsa has been asked out, but it had been a non-issue. She had never had difficulty turning away the attention of men who were often all too happy to move on to the next thing that caught their eye when they realized she was not worth the effort. Never, however, had she been so relentlessly pursued by someone she finds so frustrating and attractive in equal measure. Never has it come at such an inopportune time.

“Not like this.” Elsa replies.

“Oh - oh - !” This time Anna is all too quick to respond and Elsa rips her hands from her eyes and glares at her sister.

“No. Don’t.” She will not have her weakness spoken aloud.

“But Elsa -”

“Stop.”

“Did you say ‘yes’?”

“Anna.”

“Oh crap - you did. Didn’t you? Or you didn’t but you wanted to?”

“What I don’t want to do is talk about it.”

“Elsa.”

“Anna.”

“Elsa. This is Hans Westergaard. Do I need to remind you again what that means?” Anna’s eyebrow quirks.

“I know what it means.”

Anna purses her lips. “Look. I’m going to be you for a second, because I think you need it and I don’t want to seem mean but you’re talking crazy.”

Anna pauses for a second to gather her thoughts, takes a deep breath, and then launches her attack.

“We need this, Elsa. Everyone at E&A Events needs this to happen so you are going to have to suck it up and put on your big girl pants because we need this. Not you, we. This company is more than you and we need you to not screw this one up, okay? We need you to be calm and collected and professional and to do this event no matter how much it twists your personal panties, okay?”

Elsa blinks, mascara smearing into her eyes and stinging but that burn is nothing compared to Anna’s words. She is normally the rational one, her business sense always winning out, and a taste of her own medicine is bitter. Anna is right. If Elsa truly wants to set up E&A Events for long lasting success then she has to approach this the same as she would any other client.

Elsa takes a shaky breath.

Anna rubs the clammy skin on Elsa’s arms, as close to a hug as they can get with Elsa soaked the way she is.

“Remember when we started this business you said you wanted to live a normal life as long as you were able?”

It is an odd question, one Elsa had not anticipated, and she frowns. There had been so many discussions over the years. Each one had hinged on the fact that Elsa was not like the rest of them. Each one had tried to navigate the careful balance of the inevitable and the ignoring of it. The application of these conversations and plans however had never made her heart pound in her chest like she had just sprinted a mile.

Elsa shakes her head.

“You’re right,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “You know you’re right. Of course you’re right. Mister Westergaard is just like any other client.”

Anna casts her sister a knowing look. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Except Elsa didn’t. She blinks, wide eyed and confused.

“Elsa. If you want to date the guy, just date him. Dating doesn’t have to mean getting attached. It can just be fun. That is what normal people do. Normal people have fun.” She plants her hands on her hips. “Plus he is loaded so you know he can probably take you on some pretty amazing dates.”

Elsa’s defences fly up. “Not going to happen.”

“But you know it would be okay if it did.” Anna goes soft in almost perfect opposition to Elsa’s rigidity. “All I’m saying is we all only get one shot at this life thing. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow or Kristoff could get struck by lightning. I get that you are trying to protect yourself and whoever else might come along but don’t you think that maybe you’re just hurting yourself more by not even trying?”

The words hit Elsa like a fist to the chest.

She is absolutely dizzy with them.

Of all the ways she thought this Monday would go.

She bears down.

“We’re doing this.”

She pushes past a surprised Anna and heads to the doors to where Hans Westergaard is waiting. If he is going to lay down a challenge she will be damned if she shrinks down from it.

She will meet him just as she is, streaming mascara, skin soaked dress hot mess, and she will not back down.

She cannot.

She pushes past her sister towards those ominous frosted doors knowing that she looks a mess and accepting every bit of it. There may have been objections, but with the way Anna put it she knows that this is something she must face.

This isn’t about dating or a relationship.

This isn’t about love.

Hans Westergaard has the nerve to come to into her territory then it can only be one outcome for this.

This is war.

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#Helsa #Frozen #Hans #Elsa #Kristoff #Anna #Kristanna #Modern AU #Raven Writes Stuff

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