#my head was constantly on a swivel to make sure my sister was safe
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i hate bitches on tiktok “orpheus was weak, i simply wouldn’t look back” then you do not LOVE them
#i wasnt traversing hell to bring my wife back to life#i was just walking thru the grocery store and looked back every five seconds bc i couldnt see my little sister#orpheus is a stronger and better man than i for making it all the way outside#love is looking back#orpheus and eurydice#‘i can walk thru time square without turning to check on my gf lol’#so you wouldnt notice if she was kidnapped#‘i can walk thru a dark alley without turning to look back at my gf’#SO YOU DONT TRULY LOVE AND CARE FOR HER WELLBEING#GOD#okay im making a big deal out of this#but that was all i was thinking of in the store#my head was constantly on a swivel to make sure my sister was safe
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Felons pt. 1 (Nessian)
Nessian multichapter. Next part out probably Monday. As always, this one just sets up some stuff so it’s kinda boring. This one’s probably going to be long. And an emotional roller coaster. Just letting you know :)
Lightly based off the book The Witness. I say lightly because I’ve actually never even read this book, but my mom told me about it. ALSO no offense to anyone who’s from/lives in Nebraska lol.
Cassian swiveled around in his chair and looked at his partner with raised brows. “She’s in Nebraska?”
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
Someone’s a little testy today. He ignores the tone and repeats, “But... Nebraska? What the hell is she doing there? And why did it take us so long to find her?”
Azriel gives him a tight look, and he realizes the reason for his pissy attitude. He’s annoyed it took him so long to track her down.
Before he can tell his partner it isn’t his fault, he says, “She isn’t doing much. She’s completely off the grid. Which answers your second stupid question, too.”
“Okay... how off the grid are we talking?”
The woman had grown up in a penthouse, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t imagine her living in the middle of nowhere without any of the comfort she’d lived with her entire life.
“No cell phone or bank records for the last two years. The last time she was seen by any sort of traffic camera was before that, and it was in Atlanta.” He scrolls through something on his desktop with a frown. “From what I can tell, she took all her money out in cash and hoped on a bus.”
Nothing about that sounded like the woman he’d been reading about, but he wasn’t about to argue with Azriel in such a bad mood. “So she went straight to Nebraska?”
“I don’t know.”
His least favorite answer. “How’d you find her, anyway?”
“Well, I figured that unless she was sleeping under a bridge, she had to be paying rent somewhere. So I went state by state, looking at new property purchases under her known aliases.” Azriel sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “But that didn’t pull up any results, so I looked at all the IDs on new renter’s insurance purchases until I matched one to her.”
His eyebrows rose. “That’s...”
“Tedious as shit.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why it took so damn long,” he mutters. “She’s been careful, Cass. I mean really, really careful.”
A laugh bubbled out of him at that. “Well, she should be. She’s a felon.”
~Nesta~
Nesta’s breath clouded in front of her as she ran up the hill, panting like crazy. Even though she’d taken up running after the move, she still fucking hated it. Especially when it was cold.
Which, in Nebraska, was somehow year round.
Even the summers here were cold compared to back home-
No. Not home.
This was home now.
California was slowly, painfully becoming a distant memory, and she had to constantly force herself to remember that Mackenzie Brooks had never lived there. She was born in Michigan. She has no family or friends. Her hobbies include reading and running (the last of which was a definite mistake to include).
And she was her.
God, it honestly was a miracle she hadn’t slipped up yet.
Maybe it was still the fear that drove her. Maybe it was just that she knew she could never go back to her old life. No matter that she wanted to.
No matter that she’d picked up and left without a word. No matter that her sisters probably thought she was dead.
Thankfully, she made it to the top of the hill before she passed out or died, and she bent over, sucking down the freezing air. It was only October, but it was already cold enough to force her to wear three layers and a beanie.
Despite being miserable and cold, she forced herself to go through her training course.
Because it couldn’t just be enough to be fit enough to run away anymore. If the person chasing her was faster...
Nesta punched her hand through the target, satisfied when the wood cracked down the middle. Her knuckles luckily had gotten used to the abuse, so when she ducked under the branch and struck again, another target went flying.
By the time she was done, her hands and arms were tired and her body was aching for a bath.
Or two hours on a warm, sunny beach.
Since only one of those things was bound to actually happen, she trudged back to her cabin, praying the hot water would hold out long enough for a full bath.
One thing about Blair, Nebraska was that somehow, the less than ten thousand people who lived here were always experiencing a water shortage.
It rivaled the cold ass weather for her least favorite thing about the place as a very close second.
Noticing who was parked in front of her small little house, she grimaced and amended her statement. Lack of hot water was actually third, second only to the one and only Sheriff Marks.
He spun around when he finally heard her steps, smiling a big, ugly, fake smile. “Miss Brooks.”
“Marks.”
According to small-town social guidelines, she was being beyond rude for not calling him Sheriff. But he was a short, ugly, annoying man, and she didn’t hold an ounce of respect for him.
And because she wasn’t completely fake, she didn’t bother hiding it.
“What are you doing on my property?”
His smile dimmed as his eyes beady eyes narrowed slightly. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. You never come into town. And here in Blair, we take care of each other.”
That right there was the reason for her dislike; Sheriff Marks was an insatiably curious man.
And ever since she’d shown up a year ago, he’d been trying to put together the puzzle of why a moderately attractive young woman would move to the middle of butt-fucking nowhere.
“I’m fine.”
She wanted to walk by him and go inside, where she could blissfully lock him out, but she had a list of rules now, and not putting her back to people she didn’t know or like was at the top of it.
“Okay, sure, but-”
“Listen, Marks. I appreciate this... gesture, but I moved here to be left alone. I’d appreciate it if you would respect that.” It was the most she’d ever said to him, and he looked a little shocked. “I think I’ve made it more than clear.”
His face went somehow even ruddier, and for a split second, she regretted the harsh words.
She couldn’t have people caring about her, though. When people cared, they stopped by more and felt entitled to know your business. Neither of which were things she wanted.
So she just raised a brow and shot a meaningful glance to his cruiser.
“Yes. It’s perfectly clear exactly who you are.”
She almost rolled her eyes at the attempted insult, thankful when he finally turned to leave. As he was pulling away, she united her muddy shoes and got her house key from her sock, grimacing at how tight her back was when she stood up.
Inside, she went through and made sure every door and window was locked, a habit she’d picked up two years ago and hadn’t been able to shake.
God apparently was looking out for her today, because when she finally made it upstairs, there was enough hot water to fill the tub.
When she sunk down to her shoulders and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of peace. But then images of her sisters’ faces, the ocean, and her old home popped up uninvited in her head.
It was always quiet moments like these when she found it the hardest to shake the memories of who she used to be. And since Nebraska was always fucking quiet...
Nesta reminded herself of why she was here; why it had been necessary to leave. She reminded herself that her family was safer with her gone, that she was safer.
But the hole in her chest refused to listen and close up.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she was too tired to even brush it away and chastise herself. Because for the first time in twenty-five years, she admitted she was lonely.
She’d been alone for most of her life, but there was a difference between alone and lonely. Even when she’d isolated herself from her family and friends, they’d still been there for her.
But now... she had no one here. And she’d never felt so alone in her life.
It was horrible enough to make her consider going back, despite the risks.
This is home now, she told herself, dunking under the water to wash away the thoughts hounding her. You didn’t work your ass off to get safe just to bitch out after a year.
Coming up and gasping for air, she went through her cover, just like she did every night.
“My name is Mackenzie Brooks, nickname Mackie. I’m from Michigan, but I moved to Nebraska last year to start over. I like to read and run. I’m twenty-five.” Taking a deep breathe, she finished, “I don’t have any family.”
No amount of time under the water could ebb the sting of those words, though.
~Cassian~
Cassian was honestly a little surprised he hadn’t gotten fired.
He absolutely hated his orders, and he’d made that more than clear. They’d come straight from Command and “weren’t negotiable,” but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tried.
Calling his boss a two-faced asshole might’ve been a bit much, but it felt justified in the moment.
Because in all the time he’d spent searching for Nesta Archeron, he’d always pictured the day he’d finally track her down and slap some cuffs on her wrists, haul her away to jail.
He’d never imagined he’d be given orders to find out what she knew first.
And he’d also never imagined having to do so in fucking Nebraska.
An hour in the state, and he already hated it. He was from Boston, so he didn’t mind the cold weather, but the lack of buildings over thirty feet was a shock to the system.
That, alongside the fact that everyone here was wearing some form of plaid, only worsened his mood.
It wasn’t like he cared about her or anything, but he’d never really liked undercover work. Deceiving a woman--no matter that she was a criminal--never felt right to him.
But orders were orders.
He had to find out why she’d run, what she knew about what had happened, and if she had any proof. The goal was to get it all recorded, so he had to carry around a stupid little tap recorder in his jacket pocket.
Maybe she’d meet him and just spill her guts immediately. That’d be ideal, but it seemed pretty fucking unlikely. At the very least, he’d have to get her to trust him enough to talk about the events of two years ago.
He drove the crappy old truck Azriel had gotten him through the small town, gaining the eyes of pretty much every person he passed.
Not a lot of new people, apparently.
Ignoring them, he drove to the address of a small house on the outskirts of town. Or home for however long it took him to get close to her.
Gods, I hope she’s talkative, he thought, walking up the creaky stairs and shouldering the door open.
Quiet and small, but at least it was clean.
Throwing his bag down, Cassian grabbed his laptop and started to get to work.
~
Three hours and a trip to the grocery store later, he’d learned absolutely nothing Nesta--or Mackenzie Brooks, rather.
There had been nothing online, and no one in the store had much to say besides, “She moved here a year ago. Keeps to herself.”
Great.
Luckily, he had a reason to go see her. They were neighbors. Kind of.
Her house was further out of town than his, and she owned the land around it, so she didn’t actually have neighbors. But he lived within a two mile radius, so he counted it.
Which is why he found himself sitting in her gravel driveway, eyebrows high on his forehead, staring at the place.
And for the first time, he questioned if Azriel was right.
Because the woman he’d read about... she definitely didn’t seem the type to live here.
The porch was missing floor boards, the roof was caving in on one side, and the paint on the outside of the house was peeling off. The only thing that looked somewhat new was the front door.
It had three locks and seemed to be a little heavy duty compared to the house, which made it stand out in a pretty obvious way.
Stepping out of the car, he walked up to get a better look, avoiding the holes in the floor. The house was quiet, and he knocked on the door, finding it to be solid and heavy.
No answer.
He knocked again, waiting a few minutes. Then he decided to be nosy and peek in the window.
A couch and dining table were all that was visible, furthering his opinion that she couldn’t actually live here.
She’d grown up in one of the nicest apartment buildings in California. Her father had been a wealthy real-estate tycoon. She’d gone to private school and sailing camp, for Christ’s sake.
There was no way she lived here.
That theory was proven very soundly incorrect a second later when he felt something tap the back of his head. Repressing the jump that rose from not hearing anyone sneak up on him, he straightened and turned around.
And found himself looking down the barrel of a shotgun into the surprisingly beautiful, angry face of Nesta Archeron.
“You have five seconds to get the hell off my porch.”
Shock ran through his system like lightening. For a few reasons, the least of which was the gun.
For starters, pictures didn’t at all do her justice, because she was probably the most attractive thing Cassian had ever laid eyes on. And that was with mud splattered on her face, hair in a ponytail, and athletic clothes covering her thin frame.
Then there was the fact that Azriel had been completely correct. Nesta Archeron, pampered little trust fund princess, was living here. In Nebraska. Completely off the grid. By herself.
The gun was also a surprise, but not as much as the way she was holding it. Her feet were squared, her shoulders lined up to absorb the kickback if she fired. She looked... she looked like she knew what she was doing.
She raised a brow, reminding him of the fact that he still hadn’t spoken.
And remembering who he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to do, he ignored the gun and smiled broadly. “Or what?”
“Or I will shoot you,” she responded calmly, hand pulling back the fore-end to load the gun with a snap.
“You aren’t going to shoot me,” he assured her. “I brought you a pie.” He held up the baked good and grinned. It was from the grocery store, but it still counted, right? “It’s blueberry.”
“What? Who the fuck are you? And why are you here?”
Sticking out a hand that she ignored, he said, “Cassian. I’m here because I just moved in to the place about a mile from here, and I wanted to meet my neighbors. I gotta say, I’m loving the hospitality.”
Nesta ignored the joke and asked incredulously, “You moved here?”
He nodded.
She just narrowed her eyes, not buying it apparently.
Good God, “stand-off-ish” didn’t begin to cover it.
He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that this was the same woman who’d gone to UC Santa Barbara, liked to surf, and had dated a movie star.
“But what about the-”
“I hate pie.”
He scoffed, leaning against the crumbling wall of her house like he was unbothered by the rejection in her voice. “No one hates pie.”
Nesta shrugged, jerking her chin towards his truck in a clear get the fuck out manner.
“I’ll leave if you tell me your name,” he bargained, acting like he didn’t know who she was already.
There was a pause of silence, and a bit of sadness seeped into her bright blue eyes. “Mackenzie.”
Mackenzie Brooks, one of her aliases.
“Pretty name.”
“Leave.”
“Sweetheart, I honestly can’t believe you’re trying so hard to get rid of me. I’m the best looking guy around here.”
That might very well be true, considering he hadn’t seen a single person under the age of fifty when he’d gone out earlier.
“And what if I’m not looking for a man?”
“I have a female cousin you could date instead.”
Her lips twitched, and it made him a little too happy to see. “If I take the pie, will you leave?”
“Counteroffer. We split the pie, then I’ll leave.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Who the hell offers someone half a pie?”
“I was planning on giving you the whole pie, but I didn’t know you’d be so beautiful. And feisty.” He ran his eyes over her slowly. “A quality I never even knew I liked.”
“The urge to shoot you just increased.”
Cassian waggled his eyebrows. “So passionate.”
Nesta just sighed, finally lowering the gun. She engaged the safety and leaned it against the door, then snatched the pie from his hands and walked to the porch railing.
He noticed she didn’t turn her back to him the entire time, and she she kept the gun in arm’s reach.
What the hell had she been through?
His train of thought was cut off when he heard a splat. Nesta came back to him, one crumpled half of the pie lying upside down in the lid, the other in the original container. She shoved the crumpled half toward him. “Now leave.”
“How did you even cut it? Do you have a knife hidden between your breasts?”
It was a miracle she didn’t slap him for that one. She just narrowed her eyes again and said, “Yes.”
He honestly believed her.
Cassian sighed, knowing he had to actually leave now. “Well, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do. It was lovely to meet you, Mackenzie.”
“Please just leave.”
Ouch.
He laughed and walked to his truck, calling out, “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”
Nesta frowned at that, but he ignored it and grinned back.
She stood on the porch watching him drive away until he was a certain distance, then picked up her stuff and unlocked the door.
Well, Azriel had definitely been right: she was being very, very careful.
But why?
Cassian had no idea, but he was definitely going to find out.
_____________________________________________________
Part 2
@sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
#nessian#nessian fanfiction#cassian#nesta archeron#nesta#cassian x nesta#acotar#acotar fanfiction#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight
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Necessary
Hi @merwinist! I am your Sansan Secret Santa! : ) I hope you like the little story I came up with for your amazing prompt “Make yourself necessary to somebody.” It is set after the battle in King’s Landing in season eight, but Sandor lives! And he is heading north....
I hope you like it. The AO3 link is here if you’d rather read that way. Happy Holidays!
Sandor reined up as Winterfell came into sight. Last chance, he told himself. But he smirked ruefully, and the thought left his mind as soon as it entered it. It was decided. Had been decided the minute his brother had burned before his eyes. When the Mountain’s knees had hit the ground and his last scream died, Sandor’s head had swiveled toward the north. He had not looked back once.
-----------------
Gods, she is so beautiful. He stood before her in Winterfell’s great hall. He knew what he must look like, not only dirty and unshaven, but scarred. Just a bristly old cur. And the North doesn’t need him. The war is over. Sansa can pay him back for every course word in King’s Landing, for all the times he just stood there and watched her misery. He deserved it.
None of this showed on his face of course. He might not be the Hound any longer, but he was still Sandor-fucking-Clegane. He stood tall, his menacing presence daring any of the gnat guards to come near him, his eyes focused somewhere to the right of Sansa’s head while he told them what he knew of the battle in King’s Landing.
Sansa listened then stood, glancing around the room. “Sandor Clegane is welcome in the North. He is a hero of the Battle of Winterfell where he saved my sister’s life, which in turn saved us all.” She paused and spoke more quietly, directly to him. “Will you join my table tonight, Se-…Clegane?” The corner of her mouth turned up slightly.
He had meant to refuse but instead heard himself grunt, “Aye.” Then he gave Lady Stark a brusque nod and strode out, not waiting to be dismissed.
------------------
The high table was as miserable as he had imagined. He was seated far from Sansa, and the pompous lords around him insisted on speaking to him. One even went so far as slapping him on the shoulder, and Sandor bit back the urge to stab the man with his dinner knife. But the ale was plentiful, and once his companions learned to leave him be he could eat, drink, and steal glances down the table to where Sansa sat. She was not a little bird any longer, no more than he was the Hound, unless maybe a raven in her severe black dress? Buy no, the raven was her strange brother, not Sansa. She was a red she-wolf. Engaged, sure of herself, strong. He nodded to himself in approval and took another drink.
----------------------
Sansa tried to focus on the conversation around her, something about breeding horses, but her eyes were drawn constantly down the table to where Clegane sat, a silent brooding presence working single-mindedly on his dinner. He had changed, was nothing near to soft, but maybe less…. hateful, somehow? Physically he was older, but still tall and straight, and even now she could see the way his muscles moved beneath his jerkin as he ate. She turned quickly away, hoping no one had seen her looking.
---------------------
Sandor drained his cup and sat back. People were starting to leave the hall and he supposed he should go as well. He stood and turned to find the Lady of Winterfell.
She beckoned a servant for her cloak as she said, “Walk with me, Clegane?” Then started away without waiting for his answer. They went down halls and up winding stairs, not speaking, and emerged at last on the battlements. It was a clear, cold night, and thankfully calm. The banners hung limply above them. Sansa went and looked out over the walls. He could see her shoulders relax as she breathed the crisp air, for a moment away from all those who relied on her. He came up beside her and waited. When she finally spoke, he could see it was Sansa, not the Lady Stark. “I’m glad you’ve come.”
“Are you then? Huh. Don’t really know why I did. Nowhere else to go I reckon.”
She scoffed, but mildly. “Really? Haven’t you your own Keep in the west?”
He tensed, ready with some surly reply, but she turned to him, looking directly up at him for the first time, and her blue eyes were so compelling they cut off whatever he intended to say.
“Please Clegane, I would speak plainly with you. You always gave me that much before.”
He nodded. “Aye.” He looked away a moment and she saw his fists clench. She waited patiently until he spoke.
“If it’s the truth you want then I’ll tell you.” He looked up, brown eyes wary but determined, holding a flicker of. . .hope? in their depths. “I came because of you, Lady. You and your sister. I hoped I could find a place in your service, but I see you don’t need me here. You are the bloody Lady of Winterfell now. Bastards are falling all over themselves to be near you.”
She reached out and touched one fist gently. “Call me Sansa.” She took a deep breath, taking her hand away. “I do need you. I trust you. Everything went so horribly wrong after you left. I was so alone. I couldn’t trust anyone, especially not those cowards who claimed to want to help me. I was just a girl, but they used me, hurt me.”
What could he say? He had heard some of her story, and he wished those cunts were alive so he could kill them again.
Her eyes welled with unshed tears, but she brushed them away impatiently and clasped his arm. “You never hurt me. You had the chance, but you were honest and . . . and gentle. Now I am alone again, my family won’t stay. I know it.” She hesitated, “Sandor. I’m a woman now, not a girl. I am safe. I am home, but still …broken.” Her voice trailed off and her face turned slightly away.
He didn’t know where the courage came from, but he reached out a finger and gently brought her chin around. He said all he could think to say. The simple truth. “You are so strong.”
They stood for a moment, blue eyes meeting brown. He dropped his hand, and she came up on her toes and kissed him. A gentle touch on the corner of his mouth.
“So are you.”
He snorted briefly. “Ha. Strong arms maybe.”
“I mean it. You kept your humanity. Through everything.” She tentatively touched the burn scars on his cheek.
He shrugged irritably. “None of that matters. I should have done more for you. But…” and his rough voice softened. “I never forgot you. If I survived, you are the reason. When your sister left me for dead my thoughts were for you. I went to find the wight and save Westeros for you. I killed my brother because you weren’t safe while he lived. Sansa, you saved me.”
She looked up at him, eyes dark and fathomless. “Then we saved each other. Sandor, I missed you. I longed for you. You are necessary to me. Will you stay? Not as a sworn sword, but to be with me?”
“Aye. I will.” He felt her tremble at the words. ”Sansa, you are necessary to me as the air I breathe, and you will never be alone again.”
He leaned down then and kissed her properly, gently. Arms coming around to hold her. When they broke apart, she sighed and laid her head against his chest. The snow began to fall slowly around them in big flakes, coating their hair. They stood still. She comforted and secure in his solid embrace. He accepted, valued, able to love his lady at last.
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April Contest Submission #24: Surface Tension
Words: ca. 3,800 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: underage drinking, alcoholism, angst
“Just make sure you stay near Elsa when you’re in the water,” Agnarr says, flipping on his blinker to indicate a turn. Anna can’t stop herself from rolling her teal eyes at the statement. Agnarr catches it from the corner of his eyes.
“You may think I’m being overbearing but it’s just a precaution. With your mother being in one of her… situations, I can’t risk you getting into trouble,” Agnarr warns. Anna huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Dad, I’m 15. I know how to handle myself,” Anna grumbles, turning her head to gaze out the window as they pull into the parking lot. It’s early in the morning in the middle of summer. The ocean lays beyond the asphalt filled square with waves that gently kiss the shore. Perfect weather for Anna to practice her surfing. They slip into an empty space and Agnarr shifts the gears into park. Anna immediately reaches for the door handle but a large hand on her freckled shoulder stops her. She sighs, turning to face her father.
“I just want the best for you girls. You know that. I’m glad you two are so close. Hopefully, you’ll always have that,” Agnarr tells her softly. There’s heavy emotion swimming in his hazel eyes and Anna now notices the dark circles beneath them. Her irritation fades, and her resolve drops. The redhead knows that her mother’s current plummet is one of the worst they’ve seen, and she can see that it’s taking a toll on her father. She leans over and gently kisses her father’s scruffy cheek.
“I know, Papa. I’m sorry. I’ll be careful. Promise. I love you,” she says, with a small smile. He manages to return it and removes his hand, jerking his head toward the beach.
“Let’s get your board down,” he says. A few minutes later Anna stands with her surfboard in her arms and waving at her father as he pulls out of the lot. She fiddles with her braid as she watches him disappear around a bend before swiveling and heading toward the beach. The population this early in the morning is few and far between. Anna prefers this, though she doesn’t necessarily enjoy getting up this early. Her eyes eagerly scour the beach, searching for her sister. A grin forms when she spots the 17 year old platinum blonde several feet away.
“Hey, Elsa!” The younger girl calls out as she jogs awkwardly toward her sister. Elsa turns around at the sound of her name. Her hair is plaited in a tight braid over her left shoulder and she’s fitted with her black and blue wetsuit. Her own surfboard is propped vertically in the sand beside her. She opens her arms as Anna drops her board, running into them. A content sigh escapes Anna as she buries her face in Elsa’s pale neck, inhaling her familiar scent. Elsa chuckles softly.
“Hey, princess. Ready to practice?” Elsa asks, as Anna pulls back a bit to gaze into Elsa’s intense blue eyes. The words sound distant as Anna loses herself for a moment. She loses herself to the familiar, yet concerning feeling of infatuation for her older sister until she realizes Elsa is gently shaking her. There’s concern in those brilliant eyes and a pang of shame hits Anna. She steps out of Elsa’s embrace and distracts herself with the task of slipping on her ankle leash.
“Hell yeah, Elsa. My balance is getting so much better thanks to you,” Anna finally manages to reply, beaming at her sister. Elsa stands silent for a moment with her head tilted before facing her own board and lifting it out of the sand. She runs a hand along the smooth surface of her snowflake patterned board.
“It has improved, but you’ve still got a lot to learn,” Elsa replies. Anna nods, and stands next to her as they both take a moment to stare out into the sea.
“I know. I’m just happy to spend time with you. It feels as though I hardly see you anymore, since summer started,” Anna says quietly, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. A cool hand slips around her own, squeezing tightly.
“I’m sorry, Anna. It’s just… been hard with mum having another of her… instances and Papa always being… well Papa. It’s tough being home, but I realize it’s not any easier on you. The added bonus of having a summer job doesn’t help this situation. Anyway, I promise that we will spend more time together. Speaking of: there’s a bonfire tonight by the cove. Would you like to join?” Elsa offers, turning to face Anna. The younger girl ponders this for a moment.
“Will Hans be there?” she asks, a bit of jealousy hitting her. Hans was an older guy who was constantly hitting on Elsa, though she always thwarted his attempts. He also had an extremely sketchy aura that surrounded him. Elsa shrugs her shoulders.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. But Megara, Rapunzel, and Merida will be there. Along with a few others from school,” Elsa responds. “You like all of them.”
“You think Papa will actually let me go?” Anna asks, and Elsa huffs, annoyance twisting her normally stoic features.
“As long as there’s no mention of Hans, he should be fine with it. He’s met all of the girls, and knows they’re good people. Though, I’m sure he’ll insist on driving us and bringing us home,” Elsa mutters. Anna nods in agreement.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll come,” she says. Elsa grins, and Anna’s previous thoughts of sketchy Hans dissipate. Her heart pounds as Elsa tugs her hand, pulling her toward the water. Moments later, they’re out in open water, sitting on their boards. The wind is gentle, and with it comes small waves. Elsa gestures Anna to venture forward. Anna takes a deep breath before approaching a small wave.
Her red braids flutter in the wind as she grips the sides of her board and lifts herself onto her shaky feet. She quickly counts to ten, maneuvering her board and is ecstatic to find herself riding the wave. Her heart slams against her ribcage as adrenaline pumps through her veins. She risks a glance at Elsa, who is cheering in the distance. Confidence spreads through her as she bends her knees and shifts through the wave. She basks in her success too soon, though as her foot moves to the edge of the board and slips off, causing her entire body to tumble into the cold water below.
Anna is tossed around a bit beneath the wave before she manages to break the tension of the surface, sputtering as the salty water of the ocean leaves her mouth. Elsa is there within seconds, and strong hands grab Anna beneath her arms and she’s pulled up onto Elsa’s board. She’s coughing, and Elsa pats her back. Anna’s ears are full of water and she vigorously shakes her head, trying to get rid of the offending liquid. Finally, she registers Elsa is speaking.
“You okay, princess?” Elsa asks, as Anna’s coughing begins to fade. She nods in response and glances over at Elsa, who is looking past her sister with a look of despair. Anna follows her gaze, and her own heart drops. Her board is next to them in the water, still tethered to Anna’s ankle. Unfortunately, it’s only half of it. Elsa places a hand on Anna’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you another one. Either way, you did an amazing job, Anna. I’m so proud of you,” And suddenly Elsa’s arms are around her sister, and Anna’s head is spinning, not just from her tumble in the water. There are alarms going off inside her mind, but she ignores them, returning the embrace. Her pride is swelling at Elsa’s words. Finally, Elsa pulls back with an enormous grin on her face. She leans down and rips the leash from Anna’s ankle, leaving the board to float toward the beach.
“Come on. Let’s ride a few together then we’ll go shopping for a new board,” she says as she places a gentle kiss on Anna’s cheek. As she paddles them toward another wave, Anna can’t help but bring her hand up to cup her cheek as a dopey smile crosses her flushed face.
—–
The rest of the day is filled with shopping and other various activities. As dusk descends upon the small beachside town, Elsa and Anna find themselves in their father’s car to return to the beach for the bonfire. It had taken convincing from both girls along with large amounts of reassurance from Elsa before Agnarr allowed them to go.
The brown-silver haired man stole glances in his rear view mirror at the girls who were giggling quietly amongst themselves. He loves them both, dearly. A decision that’s been weighing heavily on his mind recently rears its head and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He frets over how it will change everything. Should he even do it? His jaw clenches as they arrive at the beach and he parks the car. There’s rustling in the back seat as the sisters gather their items and slip out of the vehicle. They meander to Agnarr’s window, which he obligingly rolls down.
“Stay together and on the beach,” he instructs firmly. He grins when they both roll their eyes. Anna leans in and kisses his cheek with a whispered I love you, papa. There is hesitance on Elsa’s part and she fidgets nervously. A bit of guilt stabs at Agnarr, and he knows this is his doing. He’s much stricter with the elder on certain things. There’s a nudge from a freckled shoulder and, though Elsa casts a glare at her sister, she steps forward and plants a kiss on her father’s cheek as well.
“Keep her safe, Els,” he says quietly as he reaches up and ruffles the hair that’s not currently threaded in her braid. She frowns, ducking her head and smoothing the hair back down.
“Always, Papa. Love you,” Elsa says, and grabs Anna’s hand, pulling her toward the glow that Agnarr suspects is the bonfire. That decision surfaces again and he sighs. He needs to do a bit of contemplating and settles in for a scenic drive.
——
Anna had known from the start that there was a high chance there would be alcohol at the bonfire and she wasn’t wrong. As she and Elsa approach the small group of people that surround the soft orange glow of the fire, most of them sport a plastic red cup in their hand. Rapunzel bounces up to them with two in her own hand. Her long, straw colored hair sways behind her as her face bears an enthusiastic grin.
“I’m so glad you guys could make it! It’s so good to see you again, Anna!” the chipper blonde says. She hands a cup to Elsa before smothering Anna in a tight hug. The younger girl pats Rapunzel’s back in an awkward gesture until she pulls away.
“Good to see you, too, Punz. This is a pretty decent turnout,” Anna comments, taking a look around. There were a few people she didn’t recognize, along with vaguely familiar faces from school. A spritely redhead with curls that jut out from her head in tight ringlets hurries toward them with a somber looking brunette lingering a few paces behind.
“Anna! Elsa! You guys came!” Merida chirps, wrapping the siblings up in a hug. Elsa laughs as she pulls away and the woman behind Merida flutters her fingers in a wave.
“Of course. It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these nights,” Elsa says. A breeze slips past the group and ruffles the unbuttoned shirt that envelopes Elsa’s slender torso. Anna swallows as she allows herself a few fleeting moments to observe the tight muscles of her sister’s abdomen beneath the bikini top she’s wearing. Her pulse races and she tears her gaze away. Stop it, she’s your fucking sister.
Elsa takes a cautious sip out of the cup that Rapunzel had given her. Her brows raise in surprise. Rapunzel notices her reaction and grins.
“Good, huh? Super fruity,” she says and shoves the other cup into Anna’s hand. Anna stares blankly at the swirling red liquid. Elsa moves to her side and glares at Rapunzel.
“What are you doing?” she snaps, and reaches out to take the cup from Anna but the younger girl takes a few steps away. She sniffs the liquid tentatively and ignores the scowl on her sister’s face as she tastes it. Warmth spreads through her and she inhales sharply.
“Holy shit this is delicious!” She comments, taking a large gulp. Elsa’s jaw drops and she makes another attempt to take the drink and Anna giggles, running to the other side of the fire.
“Anna, come on,” Elsa says, concerned. Anna shrugs, rocking on her feet.
“Elsa, it’s summer vacation. It’s not like I’m driving anywhere and you’re here, along with other responsible people. I’m not an idiot. Let me live,” Anna protests, unable to help the pout she takes on. Elsa’s free hand clenches and her jaw is set as she contemplates her sister’s request. Finally, a sigh escapes her and she nods.
“Fine. But I’ll be keeping an eye on your consumption,” she gives in, and turns toward Merida, who immediately launches into a conversation regarding surfing. Anna rolls her eyes and takes a seat in one of the available lawn chairs. Megara plops into the seat beside her and they talk about how things are going for them.
As the evening continues, Anna begins to feel the effects of the alcohol. Her balance is thrown off more than usual but she feels giddy. A few more people join the fire, and someone brings in a radio and blares music. At some point, Anna decides to dance, and others join her. She’s happy in these moments, and she notices that Elsa is often glancing in her direction as the older sibling stands off to the side, nursing her cup. Finally, Anna separates herself from the dancers and skips over to her sister. Her inhibitions seem to have flown the coop, and she knows that she’s smiling like an idiot as she gazes up at her beautiful sister.
“Elsaaaa,” she whines, throwing herself against the taller woman. Her arms circle Elsa’s neck and she can’t help but play with the fine baby hairs that lay at the base of Elsa’s head. She isn’t too inebriated to miss the goosebumps that form on Elsa’s skin or the way her breath catches. She dismisses it though. It’s a bit chilly out and I did kind of just stumble into her.
“You’re drunk already, Anna? Hmmm, seems someone can’t handle their alcohol,” Elsa teases, her arms circling Anna’s slim waist. Anna feels her face warm even more and she swallows.
“Well, not all of us are seasoned. Anyway, dance with me?” Anna asks, jutting out her lower lip. Elsa stares at her for a few moments. Her hand rises to cup Anna’s freckled cheek and a cool thumb swipes across it. Anna leans into the touch.
“Okay, princess, let’s dance,” Elsa murmurs. Anna beams happily and lifts herself up to kiss Elsa’s cheek, but it seems as though Elsa had the same idea in mind because Anna finds her lips pressed against the soft lips of her sister instead of the smooth skin of a pale cheek. Neither girl moves for a moment, seemingly frozen in an infinite moment. Finally, Elsa pulls away with a chuckle and disentangles herself from Anna, but grips her hand reassuringly.
“Come on,” she says, as she pulls Anna toward the group. Anna is in a daze, wondering if Elsa even knows what had just occurred while Anna replays the moment over and over in her mind. The feel of Elsa’s lips against her own had felt so… right. Anna is sure she had imagined it, but could have sworn Elsa had kissed her back. As they approach the crowd, Anna is drawn back to the present. They slip between the mass of warm bodies while Elsa pulls her close and begins to dance. The music is muffled to Anna’s ears by the blood rushing through her.
They dance together, synchronizing their movements. They’re laughing, smiling and Anna thrills at seeing the pure joy in Elsa’s face. More time passes and soon the group begins to dwindle. There are just a few scattered people now, and the dancing is done. A yawn slips from Elsa and she glances down at her watch.
“Papa will be here soon,” she says and Anna frowns with disappointment. They say goodbye to their friends after finishing their drinks and begin to walk toward the parking lot. Elsa continues to hold Anna’s hand. Anna’s thoughts are muddled from the alcohol and she halts her steps, causing Elsa to nearly stumble from the abrupt stop. She turns to Anna, who’s gazing down at her feet.
“What’s wrong, princess?” Elsa asks with concern. Anna fidgets nervously because she can’t get the accidental kiss out of her head. Her barriers are down and her fingers are twitching. In a sweeping moment of courage she tugs their intertwined hands, pulling Elsa flush against her. Anna’s free hand grabs the hairband holding Elsa’s hair up and tugs, setting those luscious locks free. Elsa swallows, her blue eyes wide with puzzlement.
“A-Anna?” She says, and her voice cracks. Anna’s heart feels as though it’s trying to escape her chest as she drops Elsa’s hand and cups her sister’s face. Her breath is heavy as she stands taller, and presses her lips against Elsa’s. There’s a whimper from the taller girl, but she doesn’t pull away. But she doesn’t move, she stands there, still as a statue. As suddenly as it appears, the bravery Anna felt fades, and anxiety creeps into its place.
As she’s about to step away and apologize profusely, a hand falls to the small of her back and tightly grips her shirt, holding her in place. Those cool lips against her own are parting, and Elsa sighs into the kiss. Anna feels her heart stop for a moment as an everyday fantasy plays out. They move against each other and Anna finds her hands sliding up to bury themselves in the depths of Elsa’s hair. Although Anna would like the moment to last forever, her lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen and she reluctantly pulls away. She draws in a shuddering breath as her eyes open to find Elsa’s closed, and an expression of such content and…relief? Before she can fully dive into the complexity that is Elsa’s current expression, the moment is interrupted by a shout:
“Elsa!” The sisters jump apart and turn toward the sound to see their father standing in the sand a few feet away. Anna’s heart sinks. She can’t decipher the expression on her father’s face. She avoids looking over at Elsa as guilt and shame floods her senses and she quickly makes her way to the car.
——
Anna paces in her room a few days later. She hasn’t spoken to Elsa since the beach; Agnarr hasn’t allowed it. There’s been fighting between her parents. The last few nights have been filled with shouting and slamming doors. Anna is worried; about the state of her family and about Elsa. She’s heard snippets of their parents’ conversations. She knows that Elsa has been sneaking out the last few nights and returning reeking of alcohol. She’s brought out of her thoughts when there’s a soft knock on her door.
“Anna, please come downstairs. We need to have a family discussion,” Agnarr says softly and Anna hears his footsteps recede. She takes a few deep breaths to collect herself before slipping out of her room and down the stairs. Her mother is nursing a glass of wine at the kitchen table. There are bags under her unfocused eyes and she looks about ten years older than she actually is. Elsa is currently seated next to her. Her arms are crossed over her chest while her hair is done up in a hasty ponytail. She appears as though she’s just woken up. She glances up from the table when Anna enters the kitchen but quickly averts her gaze. A sharp stab of pain hits Anna in the chest and she has to fight to continue breathing. She slides into a chair at the opposite end of the table while Agnarr stands beside her. A heavy hand rests gently on her shoulder, squeezing.
“Your mother and I have had quite a few long… talks, as I’m sure you two have noticed,” Agnarr starts, after a loud throat clearing. He drops his hand and moves to stand before all of them. Iduna is refusing to look at any of them, but Anna watches Elsa place her hand on top of their mother’s. She had always been closer to their mother than Anna, while Anna was her father’s daughter. Agnarr rubs his face tiredly. Anna notices that his usually tamed scruff has accumulated length, and he looks exhausted.
“We’ve come to a decision that I think will work best for everyone regarding the current situations. As of next week, I have accepted a job as lead engineer of a new company in Norway,” Agnarr continues, his hazel eyes sweeping over Elsa and Anna. Anna frowns with a tilt of her head as she chews on this information.
“So… we’re moving?” Elsa asks, and Anna risks a glance, seeing the same confusion she currently feels on her sister’s face. Anna returns her gaze to her father as he shakes his head. Anna can tell he’s nervous as the large man begins to pace.
“Anna and I will be. You will be staying here with your mother, Elsa. We will be… separating. You’re already set up to go to school here in the fall, with your scholarship. Your mother and I have agreed that it’s best for you two to spend some time apart,” Agnarr says. Anna can’t believe what she’s hearing and she can’t help the sob that escapes her. The world is spinning and she’s reminded of when she fell from her surfboard. She finds herself falling into an ocean of emotions and she just can’t seem to reach the surface.
There’s a hand on her arm, and through her tears she sees Elsa trying to comfort her. It’s as if Elsa’s just saved her from drowning, and Anna can suddenly breathe again. Because everytime she feels like this, all she has to do is look at her sister. This realization causes Anna to sober up, but she feels as though she’s floating above herself. Anna watches her own hand rip Elsa’s from her arm, and, even as tears are trickling down her face, Anna manages to wipe it clear of visible emotion. There’s pain in Elsa’s eyes as Anna stands, wiping her tears. This is for the best. I’m sick, and disgusting. And obviously I can’t rid myself of these feelings. The farther from Elsa I am, the easier it will be, and I won’t ruin her chance of a good future by soiling her name. Turning to Agnarr, Anna wipes the tears from her face and stands from her chair.
“I understand, Papa.”
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Fighting Off Feelings
Hello! Gods, it’s been a week, hasn’t it?
Here is a little one-shot of my builder Piper and Gust! This takes place in the middle of my story Gust of the Heart, which you can read on AO3 here. I decided to post some smaller blurbs of scenes I cut or silly little moments that didn’t necessarily pertain to the overarching story I was trying to tell. I also have things in Piper’s POV (because it was originally in hers and not Gust’s) - Hope you enjoy!
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Piper straightened in her seat as a familiar head of blonde hair crested the ramp leading up to the top tier of town. Gust wore a pensive expression. One of her favorites. His lower lip jutted out in a small pout and his head lolled off to one side. She cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand and sighed. “Why does he have to be so pretty?”
Sam rolled her eyes and picked at the dirt under her nails with the tip of her knife. “Gross.”
She elbowed her in the side. “Shut up, I endured while you pined after Phyllis for months. You get to suffer with me now.”
“I didn’t pine.”
She ignored her and turned back to Gust. “Hey!” He paused and glanced around curiously. She smiled and leaned a little farther over the edge. “We’re up here.” He glanced up and his expression fell as she waved at him. “Hey there!”
Gust stopped just under the awning of the Civil Corps building, his brow pitched in mild concern as he peered between the two of them seated atop it. “Piper,” he greeted with a slight nod, “Samantha.” Sam casually flipped him off and turned her attention back to her nails. “What in the world are you two doing up there?”
“It’s called having fun,” Sam drawled, “have you heard of it?”
Piper snorted and swung her legs over the side of the awning. “The view from up here is almost as good as the view from the church of Light,” she said with a teasing wink, “you should consider climbing up here to paint sometime. The sunsets are beautiful.”
Gust scoffed and crossed his arms. “That sounds cumbersome and dangerous.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never climbed somewhere dangerous to find the perfect landscape setting?” A blush blossomed across his cheeks and that was all the answer she needed. She really wanted to hear that story, but she’d pry it from him later ー when it was just the two of them. His stories were always more genuine that way. Her grin turned feline as she kicked her legs thoughtfully. “Why don’t you climb up here and join us?”
“Why don’t you climb down here and join me?” he countered with a huff, “if you fall and sprain your ankle again, it would have been your own fault and I refuse to help you at the workshop this time.”
He held out his arms towards her and Piper blinked down at him in surprise. Was he offering to catch her? That sounded like a terrible idea. They’d both end up at the clinic with sprained ankles if she jumped. She shook her head at him and he rolled his eyes.
“Just come down, you’re probably giving Xu a heart attack.”
Piper chuckled and glanced over at the clinic across the way. She didn’t doubt that. Xu always looked concerned whenever he saw them hanging out on the roof of the Civil Corp building. She only felt slightly bad for making him worry. “Alright, alright, I’ll come down.” she said as she shimmied down the drainpipe bolted to the wall. When her feet were safely on the ground, she turned to Gust and beamed.
“Happy?”
“Very.” And he did look happier. The tension in his shoulders seemed a little less and he almost smiled, though it looked more like a pained grimace. He let his arms fall back to his side and sniffed. “Do you scale buildings often?”
“Do you judge people for scaling buildings often?”
He picked an invisible fleck of dust off the front of his coat. “I do when I don’t want to see them hurt.” Piper tried and failed to hide her surprise. He said it so casually, like he didn’t just admit that he didn’t want her hurt. That he cared about her safety. She tried to ignore what that did to her heart.
Tried and failed.
She pressed her palm flat against her chest and willed it to stop hammering so loud, but it refused to listen. Fuck. “So,” she said as she took a tentative step closer. He made no move to step away and she tried not to read too much into it. But again, she failed miserably. Light, this whole crush thing was annoying. “What brings you to the top tier of town?”
Gust nodded towards the clinic. “I have to pick up some medicine for Ginger,” he said simply, “but I didn’t expect to run into two daredevils on my way up here.”
“Are you heading home after that?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head, “I was going to drop off Ginger’s birthday present this evening, but I can just head back with you when you’re done at the clinic.”
“But Pipes,” Sam peered over the edge of the awning and pouted, “it’s Tuesday.”
Gust arched an eyebrow up at her. “So?”
“Sam and I spar on Tuesdays, remember?” She held up her fists and jabbed at the air between them a couple of times. “To keep me sane and blow off a little steam. How else am I supposed to stay a level-headed ray of sunshine all the time?” Sam snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like bullshit. Piper shot a glare over her shoulder.
“And it also keeps me in shape. I can’t afford to get soft when I’m constantly being thrown in dangerous situations.” She laughed, but it quickly died when she noticed the frown toying on his lips. He traced where the cut along her hairline had been a few weeks prior with his finger and almost trailed down to where her lip had been split, but hesitated. She suppressed the shudder that tingled at the base of her spine and pulled away. “Don’t worry. I can handle myself.”
Gust wrinkled his nose and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I-I wasn’t worried.”
She had never seen someone lie so blatantly through their teeth before.
“Good, because she’s super capable.” Sam swung her legs over the awning and jumped. She landed heavily on the ground a few short paces away and Piper’s ankles ached for her. She approached the pair and draped an arm around Gust’s shoulders. He sneered and tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but Sam held firm. “Care for a personal demonstration?”
He blinked. “What?”
“What?”
Piper glared pointedly at Sam, but she was already dragging a reluctant Gust towards the Civil Corps building. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ll throw down your sister at the drop of a hat,” Sam continued with a sing-songy tone, “let’s see what you got to offer, pretty boy.”
She hurried after them. What was Sam thinking? She couldn’t spar against Gust. She’d snap him like a twig. Sure, she had a few sinful scenarios that sometimes wormed their way into her head where the idea of absolutely breaking him sounded divine, but those involved a lot less clothing and hardly any punching. She had to put a stop to this.
“I’m not going to spar with Piper.”
Piper paused just inside the doors. Gust looked positively harried as he glared down at Sam, who looked so damn proud of herself. “Why?” Her grip tightened around his shoulders. “Are you afraid she’s going to kick your ass? Because she will… kick your ass, I mean.”
Light, she wanted to throttle Sam.
“No,” he said with an indignant huff, “it’s just…”
He trailed off and glanced back at Piper. A silent plea simmered in his eye ー begging her to intervene, but Piper stared back helplessly. Two parts of her brain were currently at odds. One the one hand, getting Gust pinned to the ground and staring longingly into those soft green eyes of his sounded delightful. But on the other hand, Gust wasn’t a skilled fighter and she’d probably hurt him.
Difficult choices.
“She’s wearing a skirt.”
Piper blinked at him, then down at the flowy skirt she’d thrown over her leggings, then back at him. “That’s never stopped me before,” she deadpanned, “I wear this into the Collapsed Wastelands all the time. Is that really the best excuse you could come up with?”
“Well, you’re being absolutely no help.”
“You thought a skirt would stop me from sparring?”
“It’s the first thing that came to mind, okay?” His blush bled into his ears, turning them beet red. "Leave me alone."
Piper rolled her eyes and took him gently by the arm. Sam let go and stepped back against the wall, still looking entirely too entertained by this. She shot her a dirty look as she led Gust towards the sparring ring. “Let’s just humor her,” she hissed under her breath, “it won’t take too long. I’ll have you pinned to the ground in no time and we can move on.”
“Confident, aren’t we?”
Piper started and glanced up at him. A teasing smile played on his lips. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he maintained that smug look. Something inside her flared. The part of herself that thrived on the adrenaline that came with a good fight. Did he really think he was a match against her? Her uncle had her start boxing the moment she could swing a fist. She won competitions back in Barnarock, even a few in Atara while she studied there for a time. He had no idea what kind of trouble he was getting himself into.
“Yeah, actually, I am,” she said with a matching smile, “and I’ll show you why.”
She shrugged her coat off her shoulders and tossed it to the side. Sam whopped loudly and pumped at the air. “Oh yeah, she’s taking off the coat,” she cheered, “you’re in trouble now.”
Gust rolled his eyes and shrugged off his own jacket. He wore a lovely coral sweater underneath. It was a shame she was going to wipe the floor with it when she tackled him to the ground. Piper cracked her knuckles and raised her fists in front of herself. Gust did the same and the look of stubborn determination on his face was almost endearing. This would certainly knock him down a peg or two.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked with an innocent tilt of her head.
“I’ll go easy on you.”
Her smile turned saccharine. “I won’t.”
Piper lunged forward with a left hook. Gust sidestepped to swivel out of the way, but he was too slow. She clipped his shoulder with the edge of her fist. He grunted in surprise and staggered back, grasping his shoulder with a look of mild surprise. “You actually hit me?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, welcome to the sparring ring, that’s kind of the point.” She lunged forward with another swing that Gust managed to narrowly avoid. “Don’t worry, I won’t bruise that pretty face of yours.” She winked and threw another punch. This one connected with his forearm.
She could faintly hear Sam narrating her moves on the sidelines, but it sounded distant. Her blood rushed around her ears as the thrill of a fight coursed through her veins. She didn’t even have to think. Her body just moved. Jab. Jab. Uppercut. Right hook. It all came naturally after years of rigorous training. She consciously pulled the punches, but they still had a bit of power behind them.
They skirted around each other, much like a dance. A dance that Piper was leading and Gust didn’t know the steps to. He stumbled over himself in a desperate attempt to stay out of range of her swings. Several emotions played on his face, shuffling back and forth like a deck of cards. Panic, fear, admiration, and something she couldn’t quite place. Something that left his cheeks flushed and his eyes heavily lidded as he danced around her. Something that looked a lot like… arousal?
It stirred the monster called desire that she kept tucked away deep in the pit of her stomach. It awoke, snarling and begging that she let him make the face while he loomed over her in the privacy of her home. Preferably splayed out on her rickety kitchen table amidst the remnants of one of their meals. Where his fingers would dance along her sides as he peppered her body with kisses until he reached...
Wait. No. What?
She clamped down on the primal beast and shoved it down and out of sight. She faltered and swung a little too wide, just narrowly missing Gust’s face. The cut of air rustled the curls around his shoulders and he balked at her.
“You said you’d avoid the face?”
“Sorry.” Her voice crackled and popped like flames on a fire. Fuck. She needed to end this.
She shifted her weight forward to go for another hit, but feinted at the last moment. She swiped at his feet with her leg and Gust went crashing to the ground. She scrambled on top of him and pinned his arms over his head, chest heaving. He stared up at her, wearing that same flushed look that got her in trouble in the first place. His hair fanned out around his head like a halo of light one would only see in ancient pieces of relic art.
Light, it wasn’t fair how pretty he was.
Her grip tightened around his wrists and around the neck of the beast that clawed desperately in her gut. “Told you it wouldn’t take long.”
“You’re better than I anticipated,” he conceded, “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“Well, now you’ll think twice before you doubt me again.” she said with another wink, “I told you I can handle myself. There’s no need to worry.”
His expression softened and he smiled. “I can see that now.” He wriggled a little underneath of her and she bit back the whimper that threatened to bubble up in her throat. She released her grip on him and slipped off his lap. He sat up and massaged the skin on his wrist. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry.” It sounded so genuine and soft. It never used to be that way with him, but now…
She wasn’t sure when things had changed between them. Was it the time they spent together while she was hurt? Or maybe the fact that she wanted to help him get those flowers for his mother’s grave? Regardless, she liked this development. It gave her hope that maybe…
“That was so entertaining,” Sam exclaimed as she plopped down between them, “thank you for that. Truly, I needed something to make me laugh today.” Gust and Piper exchanged wary looks before turning to glare at her. She threw up her hands defensively. “What?”
Piper ignored her and pushed herself off the ground. She would have a long chat with Sam later, probably using their fists. But for now, she needed to get Gust out of here before Sam pulled him into anymore shenanigans. “I’ll go with you to the clinic,” she said as she offered Gust a hand, “then we can head back to your place so I can give Ginger her present.”
Gust smiled and took her hand. She hoisted him to his feet and held onto her hand a few seconds longer than he needed to. She tried not to think about it and she masked her disappointment when he did let go. “Then let’s get going, being around Sam nauseates me.”
“Yeah, she has that effect on people.”
Sam flipped them off and they returned it without missing a beat. She waved to Sam and, together, she and Gust left the Civil Corps. As they walked, she tried not to think about how close they were, or how often their shoulders brushed against each other, or how he smelled like apricots and fresh paper.
Light, she was in deep.
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On The Airwaves
Category: Childhood Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Rumi Usagiyama, Tenko Shimura
Requested By: On_kamis_green_earth (Ao3)
Rumi’s ears swiveled as she jaunted out of the candy store, busily licking a large rainbow-swirled lollipop while another hand clutched several bags of carrot-shaped marshmallow candies to her front. Drool leaked a little from her lips, blotting onto her jean overalls, which she rubbed away with her wrist. The bags of marshmallows crinkled with the action, making her ears twitch in response.
The sensitive hairs of her ears quivered as they were barraged with sounds; it had taken several attempts for Rumi to brave the noisiness of their city’s grandiose shopping mall, but over time, her senses had adjusted to the sheer volume of vibrations permeating the spacious structure. She could even hone in on specific sounds pleasing to her ears and tended to prefer the gentle tune of the pleasant music spilling from the loudspeakers to the incessant chatter of the thousands of shoppers.
Normally, that is— now that Rumi had accomplished her mission of acquiring sweets, she had the task of reuniting with her parents, who were browsing somewhere in the depths of the compound. Eyes bright as she lapped at the saccharine lollipop, Rumi set to walking. Her long, white ears turned constantly on her head to scan the airwaves for her parents’ voices.
When Rumi went on errands such as these, they made a point to speak louder so that it was easier when she began searching for them. The thought made little Rumi flush with adoration; she really did have such considerate folks. Most parents would balk at the idea of letting a young child loose in a crowded mall, but Rumi was independent— and more importantly, could easily break a would-be kidnapper’s shins.
Rumi made a face of distaste as she passed the mall’s food plaza. Even with acclimation to the noisy environment, walking past the jam-packed congregation of restaurants and customers always made her ears ring. She flattened the appendages to her head, lessening the pain somewhat, and stalked past the palace as quickly as she could. When she was a safe distance away, she raised her ears again— and heard the distinct sound of a child crying.
Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she halted in place, causing a few disgruntled shoppers to grumpily go around. She remained still as her ears whirled left and right on her head, trying to follow the source of the disturbing sound waves. Her feet followed the petulant sniffles into a small hallway tucked between the storefronts— a side exit with bathrooms, benches, and vending machines. Hunkered down by a potted fern was a little boy with wavy black hair, scrubbing at his teary face.
“Hello,” Rumi announced as she stopped in front of him. He released a strange mix between a wheeze and a squeak as his head snapped up to stare at her with wide, teary eyes. “There’s no need to be frightened,” she reassured him with a cheeky grin. “What’re your name?”
“T-Tenko,” the boy offered reluctantly as he rubbed at the underside of his left eye with the heel of his palm. She wondered if he did that often, based on the way his skin cracked and flaked beneath his eyelid. “What’s yours?”
“Rumi. Are ya lost?”
Tenko’s cheeks flushed pink and he looked miserably back down at his lap. After a few seconds, he meekly nodded his head in affirmation. His sniffles returned as shame rushed through his body; it would be much harder to get information out of him while he was sobbing, so Rumi had to act fast.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry!” she chirped while squatting down in front of him. “S’okay! Everybody gets lost sometimes. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Tenko peered at her through the tresses of his long black hair, eyes gleaming hopefully as he considered Rumi’s words. “Here, you want some candy? These are my favorite, but you look like you could use some,” she said while offering him one of the bags of candy marshmallows. His hand appeared from beneath one of his too-long shirt sleeves; the bag crinkled under his dry, cracking fingers as he gripped it tight. Rumi watched with meaningfully raised eyebrows as he carefully tore the package open and popped one into his mouth.
“Mmm… Shweet,” he mumbled around a mouthful of the gooey, sticky marshmallow.
“Aren’t they? It’s just a shame they don’t taste like carrots!” she huffed with an angry twitch of her ears. Tenko swallowed the marshmallow and looked at her in utter bewilderment.
“You like carrots?”
“Of course! They’re delicious! Crunchy and munchy and— hey, are you laughing?” she accused with a snort through her nose. The candy marshmallows gently bounced in the bag as Tenko chuckled, holding his knuckles up to his chapped lips.
“Sorry… S’just kinda funny, because you’re a rabbit.” Rumi’s ears drooped along with the corners of her lips as she gave him a pout. If only she had a carrot for every time she’s heard that! Still, she didn’t say anything because it was a relief to see a half-formed smile playing over his scratched-up, teary face.
“All right, all right, have your laugh!” she huffed after he wiped the giddy tears from the corners of his eyes. “This rabbit is gonna help you find your folks, thank you very much!”
“Really? How?”
“With these!” she asserted with a sharp point to her long, fluffy ears. Tenko’s eyes slowly drifted up to the twitching appendages sprouting from her mane of silvery hair. “My ears are super-duper sensitive! I can hear everything in this mall— including your parents, which I’m sure are looking for you. We’ll just wander around until we find ‘em,” she explained, putting one hand on her hip with her other hand jutting up her index finger, like a professor explaining a vital point. With his mouth in an awed “o,” Tenko nodded understandingly.
With a small “hup!” and a slap of her powerful thighs, Rumi straightened back up to her feet and offered Tenko a hand. He shyly rolled up the sleeve of his sweater so he could grip it tightly and allow her to pull him to his feet. Rather than letting go, she just laced their fingers and tugged him out of the small hallway.
“B-but—!” he protested, the pale skin of his face flushing with a bright red blush. Rumi flashed him a toothy grin and waved her half-dissolved lollipop emphatically.
“So you don’t get lost again, silly!”
Tenko swallowed loudly, clearly unsettled by her decision, but did not protest. He just tottered alongside her, holding the bag of carrot marshmallows to his chest as Rumi led him back into the depths of the mall.
“Now, let’s see,” she hummed thoughtfully as she swiveled her ears to and fro, “do you remember what your parents were shopping for?”
“School clothes,” Tenko answered quietly. “For me and my little sister…”
“Okay. There are lots of big department stores here, so we’ll just make a circuit of the mall, starting with that one!” she decided with a point of her lollipop to the closest store, a two-story clothing store that carried both casual and dress items. “We’ll eventually have to run into them. Do you think they’ve noticed you’re gone?” she asked as she toted him through the sliding glass double doors. Tenko let out a small sniff and shrugged.
“I don’t know… Daddy was yelling at my mom for spending too much money on my clothes, and I ran away while they were arguing,” he explained miserably. Rumi raised her eyebrows in shock. Her parents never yelled in front of her, and she couldn’t fathom her father being angry about how much money was spent on her. If anything, they loved to dote on Rumi and make sure she had everything she needed. Parents come in all kinds, she realized solemnly.
“I’m sorry, Tenko. That sounds really rough. I’m sure your mom and dad will work it out, though,” she reassured as she offered him a smile. Tenko peered out from beneath his bangs, and Rumi was relieved to see his lips curl up just a hint.
“Yeah… They argue a lot, but they always do.”
Rumi tried not to let her heartbreak show on her face. She couldn’t imagine what it was like, having to live with parents who bickered day in and day out. She almost had half a mind to abandon Tenko’s parents and take her home with him instead! Actually…
“Hey! Why don’t you just come live with me?” she posed, stopping in the middle of an aisle to give Tenko a huge grin. “My parents are awesome! They never fight, and they would give you all the clothes you could ever want and more! I’m sure you’d be much happier.”
Tenko gaped at her in utter bewilderment. After a few seconds of processing the rabbit girl’s ludicrous suggestion, he flushed and looked down at the toes of his Velcro sneakers. The plastic bag of marshmallows crinkled under his fidgeting fingers.
“That does sound nice, but… Even though my parents argue, I couldn’t leave them. I love my Mommy, and my sister, and my dog…” he said uncertainly. Rumi wriggled her nose, then shrugged with indifference.
“All right! If you say so!” she said in a sing-song voice before tugging on his arm again. Tenko squeaked as he was suddenly jerked forward, and he clumsily fell back in step with his headstrong companion. Rumi hummed a pleasant tune as she swiveled her ear, scanning the sounds drifted just above the racks of clothes in the large carpeted spaces on either side of the tiled pathways.
Young women perused the latest trends, holding up cute shirts and dresses to their frames with pursed lips. A businessman chatted to his boss on the phone as he compared how a tie would look with his dress shirt. Two young children played hide-and-seek amongst the racks while their grandmother looked on with a pleased chuckle— but Rumi didn’t hear any sign of Tenko’s parents. Just as she was thinking about moving on to the next store, a frantic cry drifted down the whirring steps of the escalator.
“Tenko?! Tenko, where are you?”
“Honey, he couldn’t have gotten far—”
“This is your fault!” the woman snapped; Rumi could hear the air rushing around her dress as she whirled on the man speaking. “You made him feel guilty! You should be ashamed of yourself, taking out your anger on our child! Tenko has nothing to do with our finances and you know that.”
“Honey…”
“Oh, my poor baby… He’s probably lost and alone and upset… Tenko? Tenko!”
Tenko couldn’t hear his mother calling as Rumi could, so he scrunched up his face in confusion as the girl sucked in an excited breath.
“Come on, Tenko! I think I found ‘em!” she grinned as she took off for the escalator. Rather than riding them up, she hopped up the steel steps, practically dragging the stumbling boy behind her. She jerked to a halt once she reached the summit, causing Tenko to bump into her back with a yelp. She frowned deeply, ears turning furiously to pinpoint the upset mother’s location.
“Rumi, my nose— Ah!” Tenko didn’t have time to complain about his nose slamming into her back as she took off towards the children’s section of the store. Their breaths came in little pants as their feet slapped against the tile; above the symphony of their frantic dash, the panicked chant of “Tenko, Tenko, Tenko!” gradually rose in intensity.
“Mommy?!” the boy exclaimed when he finally heard his mother’s call. “Mommy! I’m over here!”
As if summoned, a woman dashed out from between some racks of young boy’s clothes, head snapping around wildly. She appeared so suddenly that Rumi had no time to stop running; the soles of her sneakers slid uselessly over the tile as she all but careened into the woman’s legs. Tenko’s mother exclaimed in shock as the rabbit girl slammed into the plumes of her skirt, and Tenko behind her.
“Oh, my goodness—! Oh, Tenko!” she cried as the black-haired boy rubbed his nose, which had slammed into Rumi’s back again. She crushed Rumi against her legs in her attempts to bend down and hug her son. “I’m so relieved! Honey, why did you run off like that? You had me so worried—! Oh, what’s this?” Her babbles ceased when she registered Rumi’s indignant squeaks within the cloth of her dress. When she straightened up, Rumi crawled out from between her calves, gasping for breath. “Who’s this?”
“This is my friend Rumi! She helped me find you,” Tenko explained. Rumi tugged her lollipop off of the woman’s dress, plucked away the fibers clinging to its sticky surface, and then shoved the entire thing into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged around the large circular candy and drool dripped from her lips. She garbled a salutation around the lolly, but it came out as senseless gurgling. Tenko’s mother chuckled, endeared by Rumi’s antics.
“Hello, Rumi. Thank you for bringing Tenko back to me.”
The lollipop made a popping sound as she took it out of her mouth. She wiped at her lips with her wrist before flashing a rainbow-dyed smile.
“No problem! I’m gonna be a hero someday, so jobs like this are nothing!”
Tenko sucked in a breath of adoration. He clutched his mother’s skirts, looking around cautiously, before leaning in close to whisper to her.
“I wanna be a hero too…”
“Really? That’s awesome,” Rumi purred admiringly. “We can be hero buddies someday!”
“It sounds like you’ve made a really nice friend, Tenko.” At his mother’s praise, the boy shyly buried his face into her dress and smiled charmingly at Rumi, who continued to lick her lolly unabashedly. When he went to hand her back her marshmallows, she shook her head.
“Those’re yours! Think of it as a present!” Tenko looked wide-eyed at the bag, then crushed them against his chest, turning red in the face as he beamed.
“Rumi, dear, where are your parents?”
“I dunno. I haven’t found them yet. I was distracted lookin’ for you!” she shrugged nonchalantly. As Tenko’s mother exclaimed an “Oh dear!” Tenko gaped at her.
“Wait… You’re lost, too?”
“No!” she refuted with a stamp of her foot. “I am not! My parents let me go to the candy store alone all the time because I can find them! Duh!”
“Oh…” Tenko blushed, shrinking back into his mother’s skirts. Rumi snorted and shoved her lolly into one cheek, enabled by her rabbit-like pouches.
“Anyway,” she drooled around it, “I should go find them, I guessh. They’ll worry evenshually.”
“My, what a spirited young girl you are. I’m glad that Tenko found such a dependable friend!” the woman laughed. She dug into her purse to procure a pen and a notepad, scrawling something down before ripping off the sheet and handing it to her. “Here is my phone number. You can call and talk to Tenko anytime, and I’m sure he’d love to play with you again!” To emphasize his mother’s assumption, Tenko nodded eagerly. Rumi folded up the scrap of paper and shoved it down into her overall pocket before giving them both a thumbs-up.
“Bye-bye, Rumi,” Tenko said bashfully as his mother waved politely and began to lead him away.
“See ya later! Don’t get lost again!” she called, sucking on her lollipop as she watched them vanish into the rack of clothes. She listened for a moment, hearing his little sister squeal in delight in his return and his father begrudgingly offer an apology. While she still ruminated on the idea of stealing Tenko away, she supposed she could be satisfied with his family, for now.
She smiled around the lollipop as she heard Tenko whisper a shy, “Thanks for saving me, Rumi…” that only her attuned ears could hear.
With her mission accomplished, Rumi whirled on her heel. One set of parents had been located, but now she had another to find in the depths of the mall! At least she had her yummy lolly… Still, she found her steps quickening. She could hardly wait to tell them all about her new friend and hurry home so she could call Tenko on the phone so they could set up a proper playdate. She’d even make sure she had some carrots and ranch waiting for him when he came! She couldn’t promise any more carrot marshmallows, after all— they were her favorite! Although… maybe she could save a handful for her new friend. That's what friends did, right?
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Reasons
While Jaken seeks his young lord in hopes of answers to his wandering, he finds himself berated with questions. From the series Affections Touching Across Time on AO3. For more updates, follow the affections touching across time tag on this blog.
A glorified nanny.
If anyone were to ask how Jaken sum up his position, it would be that. While he considered himself to be valuable to his illustrious lord and an asset in the formation of his empire — looking after the children his master sired was a lackluster use of his abilities.
Admittedly, his lord was an odd one.
Ever since his encounter with the human girl Rin, he’d been exhibiting strange behaviors toward beings he would normally disregard, going so far to marry a human, of all things, and to sire hanyō, which only added to his complexities.
Centuries before, his lord would have found such rabble unworthy of gracing the sole of his boots, but now they walked alongside him without a care in the world.
It was mind-boggling. Though Jaken had no desire to be clobbered or bludgeoned with a rock, so his opinions were kept and buried away. Jaken plodded along the winding dirt-trodden road patched with dewy grass, his grunts muffled by wet slapping footsteps as his feet sank into the soft and pulpy soil.
A small outline of a child’s foot caught his eye, and he sighed audibly. No matter how often he chided the children on proper attire, they refrained from wearing the footwear their father had tailored for them. It was a waste of his lord’s kindness, and there was so much they could hurt themselves with — gravel on the roads, shells left in the beach sands.
Blatant disregard for their well-being — he could hardly believe the flippancy.
Taking after their mother no doubt, he thought tiredly, staring up into the bright afternoon sky. Hopefully, she would return soon. With the rise in banditry and ne’er-do-wells, she was in even more danger away from those who could protect her. A worried groan vibrated in his throat as he shuffled beneath the boughs of a towering cedar, grateful for reprieve from the beaming sun.
The child’s footprints also stopped beneath it, somewhere near the roots where muddy footprints cooled then seemed to vanish.
Jaken wiped the sweat from his crown and leant against the tree — it’s bark, smooth and dry, was comfortable against his aching back. He felt as if he searched high and low for the young lord, but to no avail. Hours passing to where his presence was sorely missed. Neither his sisters nor his grandmother knew where he was, although Jaken highly doubted the latter. The Lady Mother seemed to take pleasure in his distress, and without A-Un to aid him in the search, he was forced to seek on foot. Leaving him with precious moments before his lord became aware of his son’s disappearance.
Jaken sighed raggedly, forlorn and defeated, sinking down to the grass with his legs stretched out before him.
Thankfully, Towa and Setsuna had outgrown their desire to make him fret with their games of hide and seek. They were nearing their twelfth spring and found better forms of entertainment than teasing him mercilessly.
Although, that wasn’t to say they didn’t do so when the mood struck them.
Mugen, barely past his fifth spring, enjoyed playing and exploring much like Rin when she was a child. Time and again, his play would come at the expense of Jaken’s well-being. Wandering off, climbing everything, getting into innocent mischief — the list was endless , let alone worrying, and Jaken’s half-hearted grievances to Rin concerning Mugen being her son often earned him a scathing glare from his lord accompanied by a knock over the head. Instinctively, Jaken rubbed the smooth curve of his scalp . The bushes amid the cedar copse and the meandering roads were barely used after rainfall due to the mud. Carts would be easily stuck, but a child on foot would find no end to their mirth.
The young lord could have been anywhere and with as many hiding places as there were — bushes, knotholes, nesting spots, dens — it would have been easy for him to become trapped if something were to go wrong.
“Oh…” Jaken crooned anxiously at the thought, grasping Nintōjō tightly as he hauled himself up, staggering forward on quivering legs. Surely, he hadn’t climbed one of the trees. What if he fell and broke his neck or worse?! If Mugen had injured himself, he would weep for days and Rin’s disappointment would never cease. She never showed apprehension with leaving her children in his care. But if one of them were to be injured due to his negligence —
Jaken shuddered at the thought of her kindly features shifting into contempt. Would she defend him from her husband’s wrath, or leave him to his fate? Wouldn’t he deserve it for allowing harm to come to their son?! No, Rin wasn’t cruel. She would surely spare him, but what if she were upset? Oh, it was too much to bear!
Concern sprang tears to Jaken’s bulbous eyes, glazing them over as he crowed loudly into the echoing woods. “Mugen-sama! Where did you go…?!”
His voice echoed off the trees with no reply. In his distress, he propped his staff against the tree to free his hands, settling the end of it between two large roots protruding from the ground.
It would be grating to his sensitive ears, but if he could find him, that was all that mattered. Taking a deep breath, Jaken’s lungs swelled, and he held his hands around his mouth to bellow. “Mugen-sa—!”
“Jaken?”
“Gah!” Jaken shrieked, jumping backward as leaves fell from overhead, his head knocking against the tree trunk. He groaned low at the throbbing pain, sinking down to sit in the grass while batting the falling leaves away.
Wait, hadn’t that been...?
Jaken scrambled to his feet with a squawk, head swiveling as he tried to find the source of the call. “M-Mugen-sama? Where are you!?”
“Up here, Jaken.”
“Huh?”
Jaken’s heart leapt into his throat as he tipped his head back. His eyes widened comically , beak falling open at the sight of his young lord hanging upside down from one of the thicker branches. Silvery-white locks hung in a thick veil, disheveled and burdened with leaves. A pair of small floppy ears perked up at attention as Jaken’s gaze met a pair of bright golden eyes in a familiar, yet younger and friendlier, face.
“M-Mugen-sama!” Jaken cried, wiping at his eyes furiously with his sleeve. He sniffed harshly, choosing to ignore the boy’s pinched expression. “Jump down to me, milord! It isn’t safe for you up there!”
Much like his mother, Mugen seemed to scrutinize his words with open conflict. His gaze flicking up and down Jaken’s small form as he studied him. He shook his head. “You’re little, Jaken. I’ll flatten you.”
“Watch your tone! You’re not so big yourself, and if anything happens to you, your father w— aah!”
Without warning, the boy dropped from the daunting height, and Jaken’s heart ceased beating. Leaves shaken loose showered Mugen’s form as he met the ground in a low crouch. The pelt around his shoulders flapped on the breeze, slowly falling as he rose to his feet, thankfully unharmed but confused as Jaken hurried to him. Immediately looking him over, Jaken lifted his arms and circled him a few times to ensure there weren’t any bruises or lasting damage.
“Be more careful!” Jaken shouted, trying to calm his racing heart with the breathing exercises the old priestess taught him.
Mugen pressed his lips together and scowled, his gaze cutting. “I am careful, Jaken,” he said petulantly.
Jaken sighed. Though he wanted to argue the point, there was little reason to do so now that he was safe. He ambled over to unearth Nintōjō from the tree roots, grumbling all the while. “Why do you continuously run off, milord? Your father will have my head if something happens to —” He turned around, blinking slowly when he saw the boy was no longer standing beneath the cedar but wading through a bush, his orange hair ribbon swaying behind him. “M-Mugen-sama!”
At the call of his name, Mugen seemed to slow his steps enough for Jaken to catch up to him, panting and gasping.
“Tou-chan wouldn’t kill you, Jaken,” Mugen voiced, soft and well-meaning in his naïvety.
“That you know of…” Jaken breathed a haggard sigh.
If only the children knew what a terrifying yōkai their father could be, he thought, and they would if they listened to his stories instead of wandering off through the woods constantly .
“Watch your head, Jaken.”
Before he could ask, a low-hanging branch Mugen pulled back as he stepped past came hurtling at his face. A loud thwack echoed as Jaken staggered backward with a pained yelp, holding his beak as it throbbed. He murmured curses inwardly. His face growing hot with indignation and embarrassment while his eyes watered. Humiliation was an acutely familiar sensation among his lordship’s family, but he hardly ever felt on the verge of shedding tears in front of his charge.
“I told you to watch your head,” a gentle voice reproached. Jaken barely had time to voice a reply when his arm was tugged to one side. Mugen’s golden eyes flicked across Jaken’s face to assess the extent of the damage. His lips pulled to one side, and he sank down to his knees, fumbling in a pouch tethered to the belt around his waist .
“Here.”
When he found what he’d been searching for, he turned his knuckles upright and opened his hand, a cream-colored rigged shell sitting in the middle of his palm. Jaken blinked owlishly as Mugen opened it, revealing a vivid reddish-orange gel set inside with an oddly smelling spice that sent a burning sensation running through his nose. Claws dipped into the gel and, coating it over the pads of his fingers, Mugen held his hand out to Jaken who recoiled. The boy’s brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed.
“It will hurt worse if you don’t use this, Jaken.”
Jaken huffed, covering his beak defiantly. “Where did you get that from?”
“Aneue,” Mugen huffed, batting away Jaken’s hands much to his displeasure. The gel was smeared over his beak in slow circles, throbbing and stinging pain beginning to burn dully. Jaken squeaked, but Mugen glared at him pointedly, continuing to rub the ointment. “Kaa-chan and Kohaku-ojichan made it with Sango-obachan’s help. It helps heal yōkai so they don’t have to use their yōki.”
Jaken dared not tweak his beak until Mugen finished, mesmerized as the gel glistened on his skin before gradually sinking into it. His yōki had been flowing towards the wounded area to heal it, but now the energy was shifting about in his body restlessly , righting itself slowly now that it was no longer needed. A handy trick made by humans.
Curiously, Jaken rubbed his fingers over his beak, but could find no trace of heat from the wound. Only the spicy scent strong enough to make his eyes water remained. He swiped at his eyes a few times but to no avail, screeching as a cool stream of water fell over the top of his head.
“Wh-What?!” Jaken sputtered, batting away the steady flow of water as he stumbled backward. Wiping the water from his face with drenched sleeves, he glared disdainfully at Mugen capping his water skin. “What was that for?!”
Mugen glanced at him, brow raised with a slight furrow. “Be careful next time,” he said curtly, tethering the waterskin to his hip aside the pouch then turning away. His pelt flourished and draped around him as he started off again.
Jaken gaped at his back for a moment then screeched. “There wouldn’t be a next time if you would only listen to me, milord!”
“I am listening, Jaken,” Mugen said with nary a backward glance, flexing his claws beneath the drape of his pelt and cutting through a few low-hanging branches, as though it were a hot knife through butter. The ends of the branches, now severed and burning with poison, were carefully taken in hand and set aside away from the mounds and burrows beneath the trees. “Up this way.”
Jaken quickly recovered from his stupor and mumbled under his breath. Like father, like son, though at least the latter had the decency to tell him where he was headed. Jaken puttered around to recover his staff then hurried after Mugen, hastening to keep the fluttering orange ribbon in sight. Branches and brambles cleared from the path led them further through the cedar grove to a small strip of grassland set before a stone wall.
Scraggly grass grew beside weeds, indicating that, with the sheer amount of unkemptness, the path must have been unused. Jaken could barely feel the packed earth beneath his feet, and every step brought the quiet swish-swish of tall grass brushing along his arms and Mugen’s stomach. As Mugen walked closer to the wall, Jaken peered up at it, squinting in the afternoon sunlight. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it the brackish scent of the ocean. Distant echoes of rushing water caught his attention, and realization dawned on him. They were close to the falls near the cliffside by the palace.
“Mugen-sama, what are y— ah!”
Facing forward, Jaken noticed Mugen was nowhere in sight once again. Where had he gone so quickly?! Barely able to handle the shock, Jaken didn’t notice the rock sailing through the air until it knocked his hat from his head.
“Up here, Jaken!”
Jaken fumbled to straighten his hat and gawked at the height of the wall. Standing atop it, a rock tossed up and down in hand, was Mugen.
“How am I to climb up there?!”
Mugen’s face settled into a hard stare as he leant forward. “You’re right, your claws are brittle.”
“I beg your pardon?!” Jaken yelled, flailing backward when the boy leapt down. His staff dropped, arms opening to steady him when he nearly fell to his knees. “Be careful..”
Golden eyes blinked at him with a quick scrutinizing look, a small smile bending the severe scowl on the boy’s face. “Hang on, Jaken,” he said, giving little time for Jaken to question the reason. Mugen scooped him up in his arms, much to Jaken’s surprise and confusion. The air, hissing and crackling with a snapping pop as the boy crouched down. Something was coming, and Jaken fidgeted, unsure and nervous. He’d seen his lord use his abilities before. Hair floating, suspending from his energy and his eyes flickering red. In Mugen’s case, what was red was gold and burned blindingly bright, as if someone lit the sun behind his irises. Jaken screamed as the pressure building in the air snapped loose, and they shot into the air with one leaping bound.
He clung to Mugen’s shoulders, claws buried in his pelt and face hidden against his shoulder as the air rushed around them. Gravity bent to propel them downward, and he could only imagine how they would meet the ground. A harsh screaming filled his ears, and it wasn’t until he was jostled a few times that he realized it was coming from himself. Blinking away the tears beading at the corners of his eyes, he looked around in confusion. Past the beaches and few islands surfaced from the oceans was the expanse of the sea laid out before them. Although the wall they’d stood before earlier was dilapidated, around it were low parapets with the distant forms of guardsmen patrolling their lengths.
“Can you walk from here?”
Jaken startled from his thoughts and noticed Mugen for the first time. The boy’s unblinking gaze, seeming utterly unfazed from the heights from which he leapt, was reticent of his father, and Jaken sighed raggedly. These children would be the end of him before long.
“I-I may need a moment…” He admitted, tucking his head against Mugen’s shoulder.
A low hum was the only answer he received, and when Jaken regained his ability to stand, Mugen set him down, leapt off the wall, and returned with Nintōjō in hand shortly thereafter. Jaken sighed, careful not to step towards the edge of the wall. Without the parapets in place, it would be easy to fall to their deaths.
“We can see the gates from here just fine,” Mugen said, handing the staff to Jaken before sitting down cross-legged with his hands resting in his lap.
“The gates?”
“Mhm. Kaa-chan is coming back today, and I wanted to see her.”
“That can be done from the safety of the ground, can’t it?” Jaken huffed bitterly.
Mugen shot him a sideways glare, and Jaken flinched at the sharpness in his stare. “You didn’t have to come up with me,” he said with narrowed golden eyes. Then, he jutted his chin towards the right. “And there is a ladder.”
“W—” Jaken shuffled past him, careful not to tread too close to either end. Scurrying over, he leant over the edge to see that there was a ladder. Not far from where they made their jump either. Wheeling around, he glared at the boy. “Then why did you jump up here?!”
Mugen looked ahead for a long while then hiked his shoulders, sitting back on his hands.
Jaken blinked, then muttered under his breath. “You really are Rin’s son.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jaken cautiously crept to Mugen’s side and sat. Dusk was falling around their ears and dyeing the horizon a peach-orange hue. Waters reflecting the sky, drifting lazily with foam lapping at the cliff sides , mist spraying against the walls. Jaken sighed, and he laid his staff horizontally across his lap.
“Your mother isn’t due back for a while yet.”
Mugen nodded slowly. “I’ll wait,” he said. After a brief stint in quiet, he added softly. “You don’t have to stay.”
Jaken scoffed haughtily, but his heart sank at the vague dismissal. “Hadn’t I already told you, your father will kill me if anything happens to you!”
The words rolled off Jaken’s tongue, and a familiar dread washed over him as Mugen’s eyes narrowed and his peaceful expression twisted into one of irritation.
“He wouldn’t kill you.”
“Hmph,” Jaken folded his arms tightly to hide his trembling. “You obviously haven’t been listening to the stories I’ve told you of your father’s deeds. He’s a boiling seething —”
“ — Terribly magnificent demon,” Mugen interjected with a blasé tone, dry and vaguely unamused. “I’ve been listening.”
Jaken felt his ears growing hot as the boy several centuries younger than him leveled him with a flat look.
“If he wanted you dead, wouldn’t you be?”
The words spoken with a cold snapping tone clamped ironclad around Jaken’s heart. He swallowed thickly, feeling himself shudder. Dedication to his lord had cost him everything. The title that would have had others falling at his feet, lands he could have governed; yet, despite his griping, he wouldn’t have taken those opportunities over the ones he had now. It was terrifying following him into battle as well as waiting on him with his strange temperament. Nonetheless, abandoning him wasn’t an option.
Mugen’s eyes, unrelenting and piercing, reminded Jaken far too much of his father.
“If you’re so scared of him, why do you follow him around?” Mugen demanded, barely contained curiosity and scorn seeping into his tone.
Jaken’s tongue flapped, but he couldn’t seem to gain control of it. His insides twisted and turned the longer he held the steely gaze. “I-I’m his loyal servant a—”
“Tou-chan said loyalty made by fear is betrayal waiting to happen,” the boy snapped.
Bristling at that, Jaken yelled. “Wh— how dare — I would never betray Lord Sesshomaru!”
Their voices echoed, and the silence between them was deafening. Mugen’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed with a slight wrinkle to his nose while Jaken trembled with rage. How dare this boy question his loyalty to his lord? Who did he think he was?
Traitorously, his mind reminded him. This was his lord’s son.
Oh no.
Unprecedented panic overwhelmed righteous anger, and Jaken paled. Oh no, his head would be on a platter for this. As his terror reached a boiling point, Mugen’s severe scowl eased into a genial look as he turned away.
“I know, Jaken.”
Rage diffused itself slowly, draining from Jaken’s body like water from the falls rushing into the ocean. The blatant disgust and contempt was gone, replaced by a self-assured look, one from which he could feel genuine joy and warmth. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, laying his hands in his lap. Mugen inhaled then sighed, turning his head to look at him with a soft smile.
“You’re part of our family,” he said. “And family doesn’t hurt each other, right?”
Family. Jaken’s mouth felt dry, and while he opened and closed it a few times, attempting to summon words was difficult. He swallowed and nodded his head in reply. Mugen gave a curt nod, and looked ahead again.
“I’m sure Tou-chan thinks of you as family too. Believe in him a little. Okay?”
He believed in him?
I need only you to serve me, Jaken.
He had said that, didn’t he? And if he didn’t want him around, wouldn’t he have dismissed him?
They’re our precious children. Look after them, Master Jaken.
Jaken sniffled and wiped at his misting eyes, clearing his throat. “... I-I suppose I’ll wait here as well, if it isn’t too much trouble, Mugen-sama.”
“If you want to, Jaken.”
As they sat beneath the sky, wispy clouds drifting listlessly overhead, Jaken couldn’t help but think of his place in life. Never did he think he would find himself in the service of an inu daiyōkai lord or enjoying an afternoon in the presence of his son. A hanyō, no less. No. That didn’t matter to him at all. He was concerned when Mugen ran off on his own or when he took needless risks. Youth and a feeling of invincibility provided him with a reckless amount of courage that served to complicate Jaken’s duties further. But Jaken was convinced he could guide him. Or at least, be at his heels to ensure he didn’t get in over his head.
“Mugen-sama?”
“Hm?”
“Grow into a strong yokai like your father.”
“I will.”
“It would be much easier if you drank your milk.”
“I don’t wanna.”
A sea-blown wind wrapped around them and rustled the orange ribbon in the boy’s hair, his unruly bangs and the fly-aways in his hair curled and whipped back from his face, casting shadows around golden eyes. The tint of sunlight against tanned skin gave him a slight glow, and Jaken wished for days like this to last. Days in which he stayed a child, unbothered by the nuances of the world and his place within it. For a moment, the kappa asked for time to slow.
A long shadow passed overhead, and Jaken shuddered, intense pressure bearing down upon his being. His skin pricked and crawled. Cold sweat broke against the crown of his head as he turned around, finding himself faced with white hakama, and upon glancing up, a pair of golden eyes that were far less friendly. Where he bowed his head in respect, Mugen scrambled to his feet with a delighted gasp.
“Tou-chan!”
Jaken peeked up in time to see the ghost of a smile on his lord’s lips as he greeted his son, extending a hand from his sleeve for Mugen to grasp. With a flourish, the boy was lifted in his father’s arms and hugging him tightly around his neck. From over his son’s shoulder, Sesshomaru looked down at Jaken and narrowed his eyes. The silent command to explain unneeded as he began to wheedle through events thus far that would not create cause to worry .
“W-We were just waiting for Rin, milord.”
To his relief, Mugen pulled back and captured his father’s attention, hands pressed to his jaw. “Tou-chan, tell Jaken.”
Jaken flinched as Sesshomaru hummed confusedly.
“Tell Jaken what?”
“That he’s family, like Kaa-chan said.”
Sesshomaru slowly shifted his head, looking away from his son to face Jaken, and the cold dread was replaced with anticipation. Would his lord really say the same? Was he truly part of this?
For a moment, Sesshomaru said nothing, and Jaken’s heart sank into the pits of his stomach. Perhaps he had raised his hopes for nothing. The idea of family in the eyes of a child was much different than in that of a yōkai centuries old.
Sesshomaru turned his head toward the horizon, easing his face free of his son’s hands. “Mugen.”
“Yes?” Mugen glanced between Sesshomaru and Jaken, an apology in his eyes, but the kappa brushed it off. It wasn’t his fault and this was within his father’s nature after all.
“Your mother is returning.”
Jaken tensed slightly, and Mugen twisted around to look behind him as Sesshomaru raised a hand, pointing a single finger toward the skyline .
“Look.”
Surely enough, a dark splotch on the horizon was beginning to come into focus. The thick curling cloud of ash and smoke beneath A-Un’s paws dissipating as the dragon gave a loud cry. Mugen’s whooping laughter came in answer, and Jaken scrambled up to his feet. A-Un curved overhead, skimming across the waters before ascending through the air. His rider, laughter loud against the backdrop of roaring waters, waved to them with glee. Jaken could’ve chided her for letting go of the reins, but even if Rin fell, A-Un or Sesshomaru would dive to catch her. He would have leapt over the wall to come to her aid himself were it not for the duty with which she entrusted him.
And it was as A-Un leveled with the parapets, drifting closer to where they stood, that he saw the genuine mirth on her face.
Rin’s skirts ablaze in the setting sun, orange and fluttering as they fell along the sides of A-Un’s saddle. Her dark hair unbound and whipping on the breeze, messy much like her son���s, their smiles bright as they laid eyes on each other .
“Kaa-chan!” Mugen cried, wiggling free of his father’s hold to leap into his mother’s waiting arms. Jaken’s heart cinched as the boy grasped at the leathers bracers on Rin’s arms, and she swung him in an arc before gathering him close to her chest.
She squeezed him to her, peppering his forehead with kisses and tucking her nose in his hair. The floppy ears atop his head shooting up and wiggling as she hugged him to her. Sesshomaru stepped forward until he stood at the wall’s edge, Jaken inching closer to the side to give his lord a wide berth.
Once Mugen was situated in A-Un’s saddle and distracted by petting the dragon’s soft manes, Rin turned her attention to Sesshomaru with a serene smile. Her hand cupped the underside of his jaw, and Jaken turned his head away as they shared a kiss. Meaningful, wordless glances and calm kisses exchanged from his lord, but soft brushes of fingers from Rin. To his relief, they parted fairly quickly, and he wondered how his lord’s face could remain impassive after such a display.
“Master Jaken.”
Jaken turned. Rin’s smile was blissfully happy, making her eyes squint and her cheeks round . “I’m happy to see you,” she said. “Thank you for staying with Mugen.”
“Y- You don’t need to thank me for doing my duty,” Jaken huffed, folding his arms across his chest.
She laughed softly and looked forward, a teasing wink making him sputter. “I know that. Let’s go, A-Un,” she said, picking up the reins. Sesshomaru tipped his head up as A-Un began to circle them, allowing Rin enough time to press a kiss to his head before she tucked her arms around Mugen. “See you,” she said before they were gone, streaking across the sky with Mugen’s laughter carrying on the wind.
With them gone, the pounding of Jaken’s heart promptly returned, and he glanced up to Sesshomaru whose eyes trained on the retreating form of his family, a ghosted smile returning to his lips, gone as quick as it came when he straightened up.
“Jaken.”
“Y-Yes, milord?”
Sesshomaru looked down at him and for a moment, just a moment, Jaken could have sworn his eyes softened. He tipped his head upward to the sky, turning on his heel. “We fly.”
Jaken’s eyes watered, and he nodded, trailing after his lord.
#inuyasha fandom#sesshorin#sessrin#sesshomaru x rin#fanfiction#my fanfiction#sesshomaru#rin#jaken#mugen#affections touching across time
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Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 10: What the heck!
AN: If this feels like a filler chapter to you, it's probably because it is. No really, I'm just using this to tie up some lose ends and to show a little bit of development in Rick's and Morty's relationship. So please lower your expectations and keep down your excitement. And yes, I do feel embarrassed that it took me this long to get it out (blame stupid writer's block). Warnings: Rick/Morty and some smutty (public) smut
Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 10: What the heck! Morty ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, close on Rick's heels. They had just picked up something from the hardware store that Rick needed for the gadget that he was currently working on and on their way back to the garage they had been surprised by a sudden downpour. The brunet ducked quickly into the garage behind his friend, but the damage was already done. Both teens were drenched, small puddles forming underneath their feet from the water that was dripping off their clothes. "Gee, what's up with the weather? It was still sunny when we left. Pretty weird, right Ri—?" The words died in Morty's throat as he saw how the other teen pulled his t-shirt over his head. Letting the wet clothing drop gracelessly on the floor, the pants followed next. Heat rushed into the brunet's cheeks and even though he didn't mean to stare, he checked out his boyfriend's naked form as he stripped down to his boxer shorts. While his stature was short, Rick's frame was lean and had some muscle on it. Morty wasn't quite sure where those muscles came from since he had never seen the other work out. However, he then remembered that Rick was sometimes handling some really heavy equipment so maybe that had something to do with it. The memory of when he assisted his boyfriend with some components of the car resurfaced. Rick had been busy putting some reworked parts back into the engine compartment and Morty had thought that he could help with that. Confidently he had grabbed the car battery, but when lifting it up it weighed more than the expected 50 lbs. Whatever Rick had done to it, it was super heavy now and threatened to slip between his fingers and crash on the ground. Luckily, the other teen came to his rescue and took it off his hands before that could happen (and he knew that he would have never heard the end of it if he would have let it drop). The ease with which Rick had handled that metallic block had astounded Morty. Now that he thought about it, if the genius teen always lugged around stuff that heavy, he probably didn't need a workout program at all… "Hey, Morty! You should take your clothes off, too, or you're gonna catch a cold." The blue-haired boy ripped him out of his thoughts. His blush increased as he noticed the other's wolfish grin. Of course, Rick had caught him staring. Coming a few steps closer, his boyfriend added in a teasing tone, "Do you need my help with that?" "N-n-no. I-I'm f-fi-fine." Face changing to an even darker shade of red, Morty inched the slightest bit backwards. To his relief, Rick dropped the teasing and, albeit reluctantly, he slowly peeled the wet clothes from his own body. However, he couldn't help but feel shy about the entire situation. Sure, it wasn't like Rick hadn't seen him half-naked already, but that was before they had started dating. Also, this whole scenario was reminding him too much of a romance fanfiction that he had once read. In it, the two main characters had been surprised by a rainstorm in the middle of a forest and took shelter in an abandoned hut and they also took off their clothes and things had gotten really steamy then… And even though Rick had told him that he would take things slow, he sometimes did get a bit more handsy. They've been together for a few weeks now so he wouldn't really be surprised if the other considered that he had been waiting long enough. That thought only made Morty feel more exposed than he was. Shyly he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to cover as much of his body as he could. Of course, his antics didn't go unnoticed. "Oh come on, Morty. No need to act that way. We're all alone in here and no can see us." Those words didn't built up his confidence one bit and when Rick came closer towards him again, he felt like he wanted to hide somewhere. "And you don't have to be ashamed of your body." His boyfriend added and closed the last small distance between them. Then lips were on his and Morty wanted to melt into the kiss as he always did, but couldn't. His nerves didn't allow it. As Rick's hands wandered over his back, he only stiffened more the massaging motions failing to relax his tense muscles. Yet the other teen didn't give up and continued his stroking motions while his tongue slipped into the brunet's mouth. His body was quickly heating up even without the help of Rick's body warmth and his thoughts were tumbling, trying in vain to keep up with everything that was happening. It wasn't like he didn't want this, but he wasn't sure if he wanted it right now and right here… Rick's perfume and his natural scent were surrounding him, reminding Morty of their closeness again. Hyperaware, he noticed how the hands went lower and his eyes snapped open as they touched the waistband of his short. No, he couldn't! Quickly, he pushed the other away, bringing a small distance between them. "R-Rick, wait! I-I can't…I'm n-not ready yet…" "Huh? What do you mean?" Rick blinked at him for a moment. Then understanding dawned on his face. "Wait! You think that I want to—?! Jeez, Morty! We're not gonna do it in the garage. At least not the first time." He instantly moved away from the brunet and sat down in his swivel chair. "I don't know what rumors you've heard about me, but I have class, okay?" While Rick did sound a bit offended, he didn't look angry. Morty felt relief wash over him and his stiff body finally relaxed. "S-sorry. I just…I thought…I guess, m-my imagination ran away with me. Haha." He laughed nervously and rubbed his left arm, feeling once more embarrassed, but this time because he had been jumping to conclusions. "And then you're gonna claim that I have a one-track mind…" "I-I never said that!" "I know, I know. I was just making a joke. Chill, Morty." Rick began to unpack his purchase at the workbench and the brunet joined him, looking curiously over his shoulder. While, slowly drying off, both teens preoccupied themselves with tinkering again. However, Rick's still wet and occasionally dripping hair began to bother the genius. With an annoyed sigh, he tugged a stray strand back behind his ear. "Ugh! My hair's such a mess…" The complaint directed Morty's attention to the blue locks. Indeed, the spikes had been flattened from the wetness. "Actually, I think it doesn't look bad like this…" Daringly, he ran his hand through his boyfriend's hair, knowing very well that Rick was really picky about it and didn't just let anyone touch it. It was thick and despite the wetness still felt fluffy and the other didn't only allow him to continue, but even began to purr as he lightly scratched along the scalp. "Hmm…you really think so?" The other teen seemed to contemplate about a style change and pondered if he should try to slick his hair down a bit instead of keeping his usual spikes, which were funnily enough all natural. "Well, it's your hair, but I-I think, it suits you." Rick hummed again. "You're really starting to act your part, don't you Morty?" "Wha-what's that supposed to mean?" A blush sneaked on the brunet's face again since he knew what Rick was trying to say and his hands retreated again. "Y-you-you're acting your part pretty well yourself with going in-into protective boyfriend mode as soon a-as someone talks to me." That wasn't a lie since Morty noticed that the other tended to get easily jealous now whenever someone approached him. Even when they weren't flirting with him like Jessica had. "W-well, that's only be-because you need some protection. I-I mean, it's not l-like you're surrounded by the most reliable people anyways. And in the time I was s-skipping school, you were constantly beaten up. So, nothing wrong w-with someone looking after you, right?" The blue-haired teen was the one, who became flustered now, as he tried to defend his actions. After looking a little longer at Morty's face, he sighed. "Hey, you remember when you asked me if I put cams and mics in your house?" "Yeah…?" The brunet replied reluctantly. "Well…I might have bugged it…" "You what?! You lied to me! You said that you didn't plant any cameras or microphones!" "I never said that I didn't do that. I just said that it's a creepy creep move to do something like that." It was the truth. "Then—why did you do something like that?!" "I did it because I was worried about you!" "Worried about me?!" The boy didn't know how to take that. "Yeah. Just imagine what would happen if someone would break into your house at night. Your dad is such a coward, if he confronts the bugler, he'd probably tell him where all your money is including the combination to the safe and tell him where your and your sister's rooms are!" While Morty didn't want to think that his father would actually do that, he also couldn't deny that Rick had a point. "So, if anything happens, I'd be over there ASAP and safe your cute little ass." Rick continued with a confident smirk. The thought actually made Morty blush anew, thinking about the other coming to safe him as if he was some kind of knight in shining armor. That look somehow suited Rick. However, a sudden thought bothered him. "Wait! Did you put those cams and mics everywhere?!" He was embarrassed to think that Rick might have seen or heard when he was having his "private alone time" in the bedroom. Rick seemed to get where Morty was going with this. "Chill out, Morty. I didn't bug your room or the bathrooms. Your sister's or your parents' bedrooms are also safe. So, don't worry your little Morty head over that." Morty wasn't sure if he could trust what Rick had said, especially when he grinned at him like that, but he let it slip. He sighed. "Okay. That's good then." Rick's grin only broadened. Not knowing the truth would let Morty sleep better at night anyway.
Morty was flushing bright red as he was dragged by Rick into the school's restrooms. The blue-haired teen quickly checked if the stalls were empty before he pulled his boyfriend into one of them. Being roughly shoved into the wall of the cubicle, Morty mewled into the heated kiss that followed. It wasn't the first time that Rick did this – just pulling him into the boys' bathroom for a making out session – but he still felt that he should protest that they'll be late for their next class. Not that Rick ever cared about that before…or right now, for that matter. However, he would never understand why Rick was so insistent on doing this. Not that he didn't sometimes feel the urge to be a little more intimate with Rick. But why did he always have to drag him off to the restrooms? It only served to make Morty more embarrassed because this was such a public place. …Though, he couldn't deny that the prospect of getting caught made his stomach curl in excitement. Oh! That probably was the reason why Rick liked to do this with him in here… A muffled squeak escaped him as the other pressed closer and something hard was rubbing against his crotch. His blood tried its best to evenly divide itself between his cheeks and his lower body. With how flush Rick's body was pushing against his, it was pretty obvious to Morty what that hardness was that he could feel rubbing against him – and his own member was reacting to it, very eager to greet its counterpart. The brunet whimpered into the kiss as the other teen's hands landed on his backside and pulled him more into the movement. "R-Rick…" His boyfriend stopped humping him and released his lips, but still kept the close contact between their warm bodies. Breathlessly, Morty continued. "Rick…we re-really shouldn't…n-not right he-here…" "Oh come on, Morty." Light pecks were placed on his lips and cheeks. "There's no harm in fooling around a little bit." When the other kissed his neck and then began to suck at his pulse point, Morty official lost the discussion and gave in. Leaning his head back in order to give Rick more access, he moaned softly. "O-okay. But on-only a little bit…" If Rick hadn't reassured him before that he wouldn't go all the way with him in a place like this, he might have been more reluctant to agree. As it was though, his erection was twitching inside his pants and clearly looking forward to continue this. The blue-haired teen pulled him into the movement again as he rubbed their crotches together and Morty almost yelped. Hastily he slapped a hand over his mouth, flushing in shame as the echoing noise reminded him again that they were in a public place and people might hear him. Rick seemed fairly unbothered by that though and only grinned against the now bruised skin on his neck. When he stopped grinding again and brought some distance between their bodies, he chuckled at the disappointed sound that the brunet made. With the contact between them lost, Morty could feel the cold of the room seeping through his clothes and shuddered. Still, he waited with bated breath what his boyfriend would do now. He stared with big eyes downwards as Rick's hands fumbled with his pants. Deft fingers quickly opened button and fly and pulled his straining dick free of its confines and Morty felt so embarrassed because he was sure that Rick hadn't actually seen it the other time when they had studied for the math test. "Well, look at that. You're quite packing something for such a small kid." "Y-you—we're the same height!" Morty pointed out defensively, but still sounded flustered. "Yeah, we are~ Comes in handy, but we'll leave that for another time." The genius teen drawled and undid his own pants, pulling his erect cock out now. "Oh god!" Morty breathed as he saw the thick and long length that was actually a bit bigger than his own, completely forgetting to ask what Rick meant with his last statement. "Heh, already impressed? I haven't even started yet, baby." Rick leaned forward again until their cocks were touching and the brunet gasped. It just felt so hot and hard and oh god, the other was twitching as much as he did. Unable to help himself, Morty ground against his boyfriend's length, positively humping him. Rick allowed him this for a while, focusing back on creating a necklace of hickeys on the few space of the brunet's skin that was still unblemished. Very few spaces left indeed. However, he soon stopped that and placed his hands on Morty's hips to keep the boy from moving. The brunet whined in confusion, mind in a daze from all the pleasure. Only to moan loudly when Rick wrapped his hand around both their cocks. Clamping a hand over his mouth again, Morty watched with wide eyes and rapt attention how his boyfriend was stroking them both at the same time. It felt so good. Rick's hand around his member. And Rick's cock pressed tightly against his own. So hot and pulsing and slick with their combined precum. Morty keened. It was almost too much. Just as he was about to get lost completely in the sensations, a sudden noise ripped him out of his lustful haze. Someone had entered the bathroom. Both boys turned stock-still and listened intently. They could hear whoever had walked in entering another stall – thankfully not the one right next to theirs – and then the telltale sound of a zipper. Morty almost accidentally squeaked when the hand that was still wrapped around his dick suddenly picked up movement again. His boyfriend only grinned at him, clearly unworried that they weren't alone anymore. "Rick…please stop…" The brunet whispered frantically, afraid that with how close he was, he wouldn't be able to keep his voice in check. Rick didn't listen to him. Leaning closer to his ear, he only whispered, "Why? It's so much more fun this way." Morty couldn't agree although his traitorous cock was twitching in clear excitement. Its counterpart that was still pressed flush against it agreed in a similar manner. When Rick picked up the pace and tightened his grip, it didn't make matters any better – or better said, it made it better, which only made things harder for Morty. Both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The poor brunet tried his hardest to keep silent, his sweaty palm pressing as tightly against his lips as it could. For some reason, Rick seemed to be doing a lot better at the keeping quiet department. He had no idea how he did that. In an effort to keep control over his voice, he tried to concentrate on the other noises in the room. The decidedly unsexy noises of their unbidden guest. Eventually, it made Morty wonder how long one person could take for using the toilet. Whoever this was, he seemed to be taking forever. Honestly, the brunet was growing frantic for the guy to finish up because he was slowly coming to his own finish. Rick was just touching him so expertly, moving just in the right tempo, using just the right amount of pressure and when he pulled at the foreskin— Morty threw his head back and screamed against his hand as he came helplessly just as the toilet flushing went off, thankfully drowning out his sound. Rick was quick to follow and bit into his shoulder to keep his own voice in check. For a moment, they kept still and silent again, intently listening to the noises that the other person in the room made. Only when he left did they began to move again and started cleaning themselves up. "What the heck, Rick!" Morty nearly shouted and punched his boyfriend in the shoulder. "We almost got caught!" "Just almost though." The blue-haired teen laughed. When his boyfriend still glared at him, he stopped laughing, but still smiled. "Oh come on, Morty. Complain all you want, but I know you still liked it." Well, Morty couldn't deny that. And so, he flushed and reverted to cute pouting. This drew another laugh from his boyfriend before he gave him a peck and then dragged him out of the restroom…and off the school grounds.
AN: Next chapter will already be the last one, but don't worry, I'll try to make it a good one. Also you won't have to wait for it as long as for this chapter. Promise.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 11
#rick and morty#ram#rnm#rick#tiny rick#morty#morty smith#au#rickmorty#rickorty#rorty#kinda public smut#restroom#hopesfanfictions#fanfic#fanfiction
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The Aftermath
Request: After the Battle of Starcourt, Steve and the Henderson siblings go back to the Henderson house for a sleepover so Steve and the reader are catching up/finally relaxing in bed (she was with the Kids and Steve in the Russian base). Dustin eventually crashes in his sister’s room for mutual comfort.
Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader
Warnings: sweet Steve, a bit of scared Dustin, morning laughs
Officer Callahan rubbed his ear periodically, a remnant of Joyce Byers’ painful grip as she told him to take those kids home.
Those kids were now piled in his squad car — Steve in the passenger seat and you and Dustin in the back. The clamor of ambulance sirens and flashing lights in the Starcourt parking lot gave way to the occasional street lamp and sixties crooners on the radio. Every time a pothole made the car lurch reminded you of that godforsaken Russian elevator plummeting deep below the mall, but Steve’s gaze in the side mirror brought you back to ground level.
Dustin was nestled under your arm but determined to stay awake to give Callahan street-by-street directions.
“It’s on the right. Yeah, right here, don’t blow past it.”
“I got it, champ.”
The car hadn’t rolled to a full stop before the three of you were up and out, desperate for a sense of normalcy from the Henderson home. Steve’s hand found yours like clockwork and Dustin let you ruffle his hair as he fell in step toward the back porch light, that single bulb left on in case either of you ever came home late. Which was all the time.
Callahan cleared his throat loudly. “Harrington, you need a ride home?”
He was met with three judgemental stares. Steve held up his hand clasped with yours for emphasis, because apparently Callahan was the only person in Hawkins who hadn’t seen Steve constantly at your side.
“Alright, well don’t forget to tell Mrs. Henderson that you’re home safe. And she can call the police station in the morning if she has any questions.”
“We got it, champ,” Dustin quipped.
Steve muttered in disbelief, “Pretty sure it was us who fought the Russians. We don’t need babying.” His bruising eye twitched at the memory.
You and Dustin shared a look as the squad car pulled away.
“We’re not telling Mom anything till morning.”
“Obviously.”
Stillness and quiet enveloped you as soon as the door was shut. Chaotic Russians and flayed monsters were worlds away from carpeted floors and La-Z-Boys and it was tempting to lay down then and there.
Dustin snapped out of the trance first and headed for the bathroom.“Alright, I gotta get this grossness off of me.”
Steve didn’t even have to speak before you leaned into his waiting arms. You shifted after a moment, wrapping your arms tighter around him and breathing deeply into the hug. The two of you hadn’t had a second alone since the whole ordeal began, though Steve tried to make up for it by asking if you were okay dozens of times.
And he was still in that habit, apparently.
“You alright?
“Better now.”
Steve pulled back with a tired grin that grew wider when he saw a smear of blood on your cheek. “Whoops, let’s get that off of you.”
He brushed it away and you almost relaxed into the touch until you saw the blood again.
“Shit, we gotta get you cleaned up.”
“It doesn’t even hurt that bad anymore —“
“Shut up, Harrington.”
“Uh, okay, that hurt more than this does, Henderson.”
You swiveled back around, knowing you’d find that smirk on his face. Steve being playful was as constant as the rising sun and after a few days of having other things on your minds, you needed this. Needed to keep the mood normal and light.
You took him by the arm, giving a gentle squeeze that he couldn’t resist. “Steve, will you let me clean your face up?”
“I guess it’s not a bad idea.”
It took awhile because Steve’s wincing had you pausing with pity, but the white kitchen rag was soon dyed pink. You dampened a fresh one and held it out to him.
“I’ll let you take it from here, sailor. I don’t wanna press too hard.”
He fiddled with the knot on his uniform, a reminder that he was still wearing that ridiculous outfit, but the grin never left his face. Hopping down off the counter, he took the rag and used his other hand to tug you close.
“Hey, thanks.” The kiss was short and sweet but your nose still bumped a cut on his cheek. “Ow…”
“Yeah, there might not be much of that for awhile.”
“Ha, wrong. I’m not gonna let some stupid Russians stop me from kissing my girlfriend.”
Your head tilted endearingly as he stole another, more gentle kiss. A simple nod down the hallway led both of you to tiptoe toward your room and Steve closed the door with cartoonish caution. Your bed was barely made but you didn’t bother to move the covers before collapsing on it upside down, crossing your shoes over your pillows.
Steve followed suit, thumb automatically brushing over yours when he intertwined your fingers. A deep breath rocked his chest.
“I haven’t laid down in awhile without being tied to a chair.”
“They definitely weren’t the most accommodating hosts.”
A beat of silence. Another few breaths. You squeezed Steve’s hand with your eyes still glued to the ceiling.
“I was worried the whole time, you know. Didn’t show it around Dustin and Erica but then that stupid general guy took you away and...” You stopped before you could get too choked up. Shifting to your side, you gingerly touched a gash on Steve’s forehead. “God, they really did a number on you.”
He gave a wry smile. “Not the first bad guys to use a mouthy idiot as a punching bag.”
Your fingers idly brushed through his hair. “I just wish they wouldn’t use my mouthy idiot.”
“Better me than you or Robin.”
“Believe me, that isn’t how we felt.”
You winced at the memory of hearing his pained groans echoing down that metallic hall and leaned away again. Too far for Steve’s comfort.
“So I was wondering, is it sexist that they didn’t hit girls?”
Laughter peeled from both of you, just like he wanted. He knew you’d been scared just as bad as he was, but seeing you still upset made his chest ache. So he rolled toward you and basked in the smile that his silly question brought to your lips.
“Robin and I were debating that, actually,” you replied. “We haven’t decided yet.”
Quieting down after a few more giggles escaped, you kissed an unbruised spot on his cheek and snuggled down against his shoulder. As if you were just two young lovebirds hanging out on a Friday night. As if you hadn’t just defeated an interdimensional evil.
“Hey, I’m glad we’re home.”
“Me, too.”
Just when exhaustion threatened to drag both of you to sleep, there was a quiet knocking on your door that felt as loud as a train whistle. Steve froze and a dozen explanations raced through your mind, none of them plausible enough for your mother at the moment.
But it was Dustin’s voice that came from the hallway. “Are you guys naked?”
“Dude, seriously?” you groaned.
“Hey, I gotta make sure my innocent little eyes don’t see anything disgusting.”
“We’re fully clothed, Dustin,” Steve whisper-yelled. “Jesus.”
Dustin opened the door a sliver to peek in. Steve gestured to his uniform and gave your sleeve a tug for good measure before a satisfied Dustin finally stepped into the room. The Star Wars pajama shirt swallowing his frame made you smile. Some things never change. Thank god.
“What’s up?” you chirped.
“I just...uh, I wanted to make sure you guys were okay. With all the shit that happened, you know.” He got quieter and looked at the floor. “I’m sure it was scary.”
Your heart nearly cracked in two and Steve nodded when you glanced at him. Pushing a middle schooler to admit he was scared never worked so you had to take matters into your own hands. Literally.
“C’mere, Dusty.”
Steve chimed in and patted the bed between you. “Yeah, your sister here could use some comforting.”
Dustin sniffled and gratefully clambered over you to that middle spot. His wet curls were plastered on your arm but you didn’t care, not when you had your two favorite boys safe and sound. You smiled softly at Steve, sending a silent thank you for letting Dustin crash.
He beamed right back and you fell asleep to that sweet view.
…
By the next morning, shoes and bloodstained rags were carelessly tossed on the floor and your neck was cramping in a number of spots. As you lifted your head to stretch it out, you had to stifle a laugh at the heartwarming sight next to you.
Steve was splayed on his back and Dustin was curled into Steve’s chest, both occasionally snoring.
Tired muscles implored you to stand and stretch, which also gave you a better vantage point on the two sleeping forms. A particularly loud snore made Dustin stir and as soon as he got his bearings, he cried out and nearly shoved Steve off the bed.
“Gross! Get off me.”
Poor Steve jolted awake, eyes wide with terror. “Dude, what?!”
“You two sleeping beauties were cuddled up together,” you offered. “I wish I’d had a camera to capture it.”
Steve socked Dustin in the shoulder and followed with an accusatory finger. “Hey man, you’re the one who crawled in right there.”
“Yeah, because you gestured to that spot!”
“Boys, don’t worry, I’m not gonna ruin anyone’s reputation by tattling.”
“I was...ugh, right there with Steve frickin’ Harrington.” Dustin’s head fell into his hands, then snapped up to glare daggers at the culprit. “Pick the right Henderson to get cozy with next time!”
“Don’t think I won’t.”
Steve followed through with his declaration by marching over to you for a hug and dramatic kiss and you played along, laughing into it when Dustin gagged.
Just when more threats were gonna go flying, Claudia Henderson’s voice rang out down the hallway.
“Dusty? Where are you, honey?”
“Oh shit.”
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine
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The Huntress
Michyio Re'sha Story
Earth. She hated it. Out of all the places she traveled to, Earth was the worst. But she wasn't complaining at the moment. She need to escape. Escape from the clan that had ruined her life as well as her sisters. Earth was their only hope of getting away. Michyio swiveled her head around, looking over her shoulder to see how close the clan was behind her. Her ship had been badly damaged by the much larger clan ship. She had no time to think, just react. She'd let out a primal growl as she pressed a few buttons on her ship, causing her ship to zoom forward, disappearing from the enemy and appearing in front of the planet she hated so much, Earth. Michyio hissed as she lost control of the ships steering, realizing she eventually had to brace for impact. She'd get up from the pilots seat and calming walk into a room, scattered with bones that were once neatly placed along the wall and a smaller female yautja that hid in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest. Michyio reached down and picked up the smaller female, cradling her as she walked back to a large escape pod. "Everything will be alright, mei-jadhi..", Michyio spoke in a soft tone to her shivering sister in her arms. She'd close the pod and press the eject button, causing the pod to shoot out. "It's alright Val'diah... I will protect you...", She added before the pod began to rumble and shake, hitting the ground violently. Val'diah held onto her sister tightly, letting out soft cries in fear. After a few minutes, Michyio opened the pod. Steam rolled off the door as it slowly opened. Michyio pressed a mask against her sisters face before pressing and locking a mask to her face as well. The air on Earth was toxic to her kind, she knew this well. Val'diah held onto to herself before opening her red eyes to wonder the forest they'd landed in. It was a large forest, one that was enough to hide the two of them perfectly. "M-mei-jadhi..? Are we... Safe here...?", Val'diah suddenly spoke up, looking up at her sister as she clung to her bigger sisters golden armour. Michyio thought for a moment, "I do not know, little one... But I'll be sure to do everything in my power to protect you...", She finally responded. Val'diah shuffled her small mandibles behind the mask she wore and nuzzled Michyio's chest. Michyio purred softly to her before stepping forward and beginning to make her way around the large forest, trying to find a place to stay and build off of. "C'mon Jenna... A few days in the forest ain't gonna hurt ya...", Dean Halls said to his girlfriend, Jenna Collins, the hottest girl in Greens Highschool. Dean Halls was the ultimate jock and the star of the football team. "I don't wanna go out in the fuckin woods! There's bugs and bears.", She hissed and crossed her arms, the snarky cheerleader looked away from her pleading boyfriend, not wanting to go to the party the football team was putting on. "I'll protect you from all those bugs and animals okay?~", Dean said and wrapped an arm around Jenna's skinny waist, pulling her close to his chest. Jenna sighed after thinking for a while, "Fine, fine... But! When I want time with you, you WILL make it, understood?", She said and pushed him off of her. She'd walk off down the hall, two other girls followed her. The two that followed her was her best friend, Hannah Long and the girl she constantly took advantage of, Bella Tiller. "Bella, go pack for all three of us... It's gonna be a long day", Jenna said as they arrived at her house. Jenna's parents were quite wealthy and owned a large house. They let her wear what's she wanted, buy what she wanted and do what she wanted, whenever. Hannah Long brushed her long blonde hair out of her blue eyes and smirked at Bella whom was quiet the whole time. Bella finally nodded and ran into the house, beginning to pack away. "Hey Hannah? How long you think we can fuck with that bitch for?", Jenna said and turned to face her friend in the seat beside her. Hannah giggled a bit, "For as long as we need~", she responded.
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Saturday Afternoon, MACRO and MICRO
Definition of Macro: large-scale; overall. ie., THE FOREST.
Definition of Micro: extremely small. ie., THE TREES. Definition of Macro, here: The wild world at large.
Definition of Micro, here: The tiny home we inhabit, where we “shelter in place.”
MICRO—I sit here in our tiny RV that is parked in the driveway. It’s where I “go to write”, a creative parlor with wheels and a view of our magnificent choke cherry out the window that is just starting to think about blooming. (I don’t blame it for being hesitant.)
Months back, Opal and her friend pretended this RV was a rescue vehicle for dogs—all dogs but mostly pit bulls, a breed Opal feels is highly misrepresented. From where I sit, in the passenger seat swiveled to face the rear, there are four black-and-white photocopies of gorgeous dog portraits staring at me. One pit bull in particular looks straight through me.
I’ve purposefully resisted straight-up news, aside from my nightly installment of “Good News Network” and NPR’s weekly “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” radio quiz show. But living without allowing for the outside to seep in feels unhealthy in its own right. Selectively permeable would be the proper thing to practice now.
So I crack open my computer and dip my toes in the NY Times live coverage of the Coronavirus.
I can hear Jesse’s future voice in my head: How was writing?
Me: Good, but I’m feeling a tad suicidal now.
Him: Why?
Me: I read the news.
Him: Now why would you go and do that??
MACRO—“With President Trump having undercut the new guidance of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention by immediately declaring that he would not wear a mask himself, it was far from clear how many Americans would ultimately embrace the recommendation.”
MICRO— I return from the RV to find a house party of three people in my living room. Thankfully, my family did not get the memo that in this moment, life on the outside is complex and backwards. Ruth is on Jesse’s shoulders, no pants, shit-eating grin and fresh-cut bangs in her eyes. She shakes like a puppy with over-large ears and Opal twirls in her No ProbLLama nightgown to the Imagine Dragons song, Zero. Inside our little bubble, things are bumping! The sun floods the living room and even the anti-social cat seems obliged to hang out—from an appropriate distance.
MACRO—Governor Andrew Cuomo warns that, as infections passed 113,700 and deaths 3,500, New York State would reach the worst point of the coronavirus crisis within a week or so. He also said the state was using the machines for coronavirus patients at a rate that would exhaust its stockpile in just six days.
MICRO—Three boxes are stacked one atop the other in front of our door like a cairn. One box is for Jesse’s birthday next weekend, the others are for Ruth.
It’s looking like COVID-19 will spit us out the other end proficient in at least one new talent—Opal’s is roller skating. She insisted on using my skates, which she found while foraging for activities in the garage like a squirrel for food. After a few days of wearing those up and down the down-stairs hallway, and back and forth on the sidewalk out front, I was certain the future for her ankles was bleak and we ordered her a pair on Amazon that were her size.
Ruth observed all this unfolding and with no intention of leaving empty-handed. Unfortunately, toddler-sized skates are much harder to come by. So, many weeks into the future, Ruthy finally got her own skates that go over her shoes and are, frankly, awesome. She also picked out the tackiest Olaf helmet—with a carrot-nose that actually protrudes—after instructing me to “search on Amazon for Olaf now please.”
Each of those treasured items are contained in the boxes on our porch. I jump into our current porch-sanitizing routine (bleach wipes and spray lined up on the porch without apology)—wipe box, open, wipe down package inside, wash hands thoroughly.
You can practically hear Ruth buzzing as suits up for a jolly, though quick to be exhausting, skate around the block. Her uniform killed, and would have worked as well for Halloween, Burning Man, a rave and a roller derby—mixed patterns for shirt and pants, knee pads and skates from Trolls, Olaf helmet. When she velcroes her final skate, I hear a faint, prayer-like utterance from Jesse: dear god. She is an eye-full that could save a life.
MACRO—Trump is getting help with the November election. His campaign just rolled out a new ad, titled “Hope,” featuring appreciative quotes from Gov. Cuomo and Gov. Newsom of California. With the lives of their constituents at stake, they’ve given him the made-for-TV sound bites he was never able to extract from Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky.
MICRO— Thank god for these kids. If I were being force-fed the news then led to an empty house with, maybe, a roommate-peer who is also stressed and bloated with sad information, or if perhaps I were old and alone, I’d be struggling in an entirely different way. Sure, I have my moments of fantasizing about what it would have been like if COVID and shelter-in-place came at a time before or children, during a time when I could have relished cleaning and reading and making a weeks-long retreat out of an unsavory situation. But the fact is, these kids keep the scales level.
Not to mention the fact that affection is built-in. Even though Ruth is less interested in snuggling than she is in building block-towers or submerging every toy she owns in water, we seem to be touching constantly, in this or that way. Hugs from Opal and Jesse, snuggling on the couch for a show, holding hands on our walks around the block—it’s all-inclusive. The fact that this is not the case for everyone is something I am well aware of.
MACRO—Jared Kushner has embedded his own people in the Federal Emergency Management Agency; a senior official described them to The Times as “a ‘frat party’ that descended from a U.F.O. and invaded the federal government.” As The Washington Post reported, Kushner’s team added “another layer of confusion and conflicting signals within the White House’s disjointed response to the crisis.”
Kushner, you can’t shatter us. Young girls in roller skates win every goddam time.
MICRO— Our block continues to be paradise. Any interest we had six months ago in selling this house has been waylaid and, thus, we are appreciating our home base in a truly different way.
As we make our way down the block with two girls on their respective wheels, we holler at our beloved across-the-street neighbors, friends of 14 years. They sit, mysteriously, at a card table in their front yard, as if they are having an invisible garage sale. We exchange a boisterous, level-12-volume conversation from across the street, talking over each other and at the same time, expressing everything we possibly can in the tiny window we have while the girls scoot away on their skates.
The corner that turns on to the bike path and is covered with ancient ponderosa pines smells musty and earthy and perfect. Like every camping trip ever taken. Every hike through the woods. A momentary dose of equilibrium.
When we circle back, our neighbors are still outside.
One of them asks, “Hey, have you guys been wearing masks outside?”
“No, Governor Polis just suggests it for any public place—grocery, whatever.”
“We saw a few people driving by with them on.”
“Yea, so did we, we saw a few people out walking with them on, just outside.”
I guess the point is, if it’s not gonna hurt, you might as well do it. Hell, if we are in this far—as is shelter-in-place—then we might as well take it all the way. To pick up the slack for people who aren’t doing what they should be doing. (We are actually yelling all this in conversation across the street.) The idea that some people would still not be doing what they are supposed to be doing is ludicrous. I’ve vented my rage at the college students of America over St. Patty’s Day, but they are all home by now, are they not? So who are we talking about here?
Fact is, as I just learned today, there are still five states that are not mandatory shelter-in-place. (I’m sorry, what??)
MACRO—“I can’t lock the state down,” said Gov. Kim Reynolds of Iowa, which has recorded more than 600 confirmed cases and at least 11 deaths. “People also have to be responsible for themselves.”
MICRO— Opal has been loving her evening ritual of putting Ruth to bed. She says it’s one of her most ‘special times of the day,’ though it happens only a few times a week. She takes her little sister down by the hand, gets her jammies on and teeth brushed, reads to her, the whole precious nine yards. She does that tonight, leaving Jesse and I to the quiet of ourselves and our space-sans-kids in the family room.
Jesse promptly dozes off in the rocking chair. I lie on the floor with eyes closed in star-pose, taking up some glorious space. These days are taking a toll. But it’s also true that I laughed so hard on four different occasions this afternoon that I buckled over twice, slapped a knee and wet myself.
So much is going well in our tiny Microcosm that sometimes it’s easy to forget the Big Picture Macro. Ignorance is indeed not far from a certain cheap kind of bliss. It makes sense why people do it, why people feel the need to avoid discomfort. But, ultimately, the mind knows when it is missing something. The soul knows when it is being cut-off. Our beings can feel when humanity is suffering, whether or not we choose to admit it to ourselves in so many words.
“Mom!” Opal whisper-yells from down the hall. “Ready!” Meaning, she’s ready for me to come and finish Ruth’s bedtime with a song. But by the time I get to Ruth’s snug and utterly safe kid-room, she is fast asleep.
4/4/20
(all quotes in italics come from the NY Times live coverage of the coronavirus from the previous week.)
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Royai Week, 2019 Day 1—Coincidence Word count: 1,876 Author: Katie/Ally (scentedbygunpowder) Rating: PG Summary: Under stress from being a living hostage for the homunculi and knowing that Pride could very well be watching her every move, Riza Hawkeye spends sometime in the marketplace crowds, hoping to feel less alone, and less afraid.
Coincidence
“Lieutenant?”
Riza looked up from her shopping in surprise and swiveled her head around, looking for the voice. It was only when she saw another woman responding, and smiling at another soldier that was nearby that she realized that her hopes had risen at the familiar word. The man’s tone wasn’t even that close to the one she wanted to hear. She must just be that desperate. She felt her heart fall a bit, before she steeled herself. How silly of her, to think she’d run into the Colonel out here.
No, she knew that neither she nor the Colonel could afford to be together right now. There were too many people watching them—too many eyes on them. She shuddered a little as she thought about Selim Bradley, Pride, watching her from the shadows. Those tendrils and little hands, and the eyes she could just feel. No. No matter how badly she wanted to see Roy Mustang, Riza knew that she shouldn’t hope. They couldn’t risk meeting outside of work. They could barely risk meeting at work.
There was a slight whine, at her side, and Riza looked down to see Hayate, whining a bit, then wagging his tail at her, as if he were trying to cheer her up. She smiled at her dog. He really was a good boy, trying to stay positive for her lately. She was certain he could sense how stressed and afraid she was. Riza readjusted the basket she had, reaching to pay the vendor for the fruits she had bought and then with a “Come on, boy,” turned to face the crowds again.
The market was often lively at this time of day, the crowds made up of both people coming home from work, and people heading out for a little fun. You could see all sorts, from the beleaguered mother trying to reign in her enthusiastic kids, to the couples walking hand in hand, to the people who were dead tired and just wanted to get home. Talking, shouting, playing and oftentimes music and singing could be heard breaking out there and there as people just interacted with each other. It really was a nice feel, and something that Riza had always enjoyed. She enjoyed it more now, because it made her feel at least a little more connected to the world, instead of just feeling like a hostage.
Riza turned to head home, walking along and enjoying the moment of life around her, enjoying just blending in, in civilian clothes for once. Her basket was weighty, full of vegetables and fruits, and ingredients for her to go home and fix herself a supper. But tonight she didn’t want to leave the market. She didn’t want to leave the life around her. She wanted to stay here, and not go back to her cold apartment where it felt like she could feel the shadows spying on her constantly.
A familiar and delicious smell caught her attention, the cooking of a little local street café that was one of her favorites. It was incredibly popular, and the chances of her getting a seat at it, at this time of night, was not very likely. But still, she was going to try. If nothing else, Riza could get herself something to carry home, and instead stop and eat it somewhere here in the market. The prospect was enticing, and she found herself moving just that little bit quicker towards the café.
It was, as expected, crowded and lively. The opposite corner had an impromptu band that seemed to have struck up, and everyone was clearly enjoying themselves. However, she was able to, surprisingly, find a seat at the café, and there was even enough room for Hayate to settle under her feet. The waitress came, took her order and left again, leaving Riza to her thoughts and observations.
For a while, she didn’t think about anything in particular, just letting herself observe the atmosphere around her. She could pretend, even for a moment, that things were normal, that she wasn’t under all the pressure she was, that there wasn’t a grand conspiracy at the highest levels of the government, that her team (friends, family) weren’t scattered around the country, their lives in danger. For a moment, she could pretend that things were as they were supposed to be.
“Excuse me? Ma’am?”
Riza was brought out her reverie by the voice of the waitress, and looked up at the girl. “Yes?” she responded.
“Well, as you can see, we’re pretty busy tonight, and it’s crowded. If you’re alone, would you mind sharing your table with other customers?” The waitress bit her lip a bit, her fingers linking together as she asked.
The poor thing was nervous, and Riza smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. “Of course,” she said. “I don’t mind at all.”
The waitress let out a breath, and her eyes seemed to lighten a bit. “Thank you very much, ma’am. I really appreciate it!” Much lighter then she came, the waitress dashed off, and Riza smiled, returning herself to her observations.
“Lieutenant?”
Her heart stopped, her eyes widened as she heard that voice, and she turned to look. Standing next to her table, a beautiful woman on his arm, was Roy Mustang.
“Colonel!” she said in surprise, making to stand before he motioned her back down. “We’re not in the office, Lieutenant, and off duty. Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course, sir.” She replied, looking curiously between him and the woman.
“Oh dear—oh—is this going to be a problem?” The nervous waitress asked.
For a moment their eyes met, and it was the connection that Riza had been missing.
“No, not at all,” he said, smiling at the waitress. “She’s a work friend,” he explained. “I’m sure that Veronica won’t mind, will you?”
The girl on his arm giggled, and Riza tried to categorize her name. Ah, yes. Veronica. One of his sisters. She felt herself relax a bit. Nothing to worry about then.
“No, not at all! I want to meet more of your friends, Roy!” Veronica said.
The waitress looked relieved, and left to go bring them some drinks, while Roy pulled out a chair for Veronica and then sat down himself.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” Riza commented. “Especially not on a date.”
“Well, Veronica wanted to go shopping, and then I told her about this place. After all, I do believe it was you who recommended it to me before.” He said.
“Oh did you?” Veronica asked. “How did you find it?”
“It was recommended to me by a friend. She had eaten here before when she was in the city. I believe it was on a date. The date was abysmal, if I remember correctly, but she said that the food was divine.” She watched Roy almost choke on the water he had just been brought. “I can’t speak for her date, but she was right about the food.”
Veronica giggled again. “Your friend sounds like a fun time!”
“If its Catalina, she is,” Roy muttered with a slight scowl.
Riza turned a placid smile on him. “As a matter of fact, it was. You can’t deny that she was right about the food here, though, Colonel.”
“No, that’s true,” he admitted, settling an arm around Veronica. Riza tried not to let her eyes linger on it too long. “So what brings you here, Lieutenant?”
“Hayate and I were out shopping. But to be honest I was tired, and didn’t want to make supper tonight. I could smell the food from here, and decided to stop.” She explained, picking up her own water.
“Hayate?” Veronica asked.
“Yes. My dog,” Riza explained. “Hayate, come.” She said. The dog stood obediently and Veronica immediately began cooing over the dog. Hayate didn’t move until he received Riza’s command that let him go see the other woman, who immediately began showering the pup with attention, much to his delight.
“It seems working for the Fuhrer is hard,” Roy said, raising his eyebrows.
Riza could hear the unspoken question in there. Are you alright?
“It keeps me busy, but I’ve been busier,” she responded. I’m alright.
“Still, I’m surprised to see you out. I know he keeps you late often.” Is everything alright? Are you being followed? Watched?
“He does, but tonight he let me go early, and decided it would be nice to spend some time among other people.” Yes I am. I needed to be around people tonight.
The Colonel’s eyebrow raised slightly. “I see. You should spent some time with some friends then, Lieutenant. Go have some fun.” Remember that if it gets too much, you have allies here.
“I wouldn’t want to bother them, sir. Not when I’m sure they’re just as tired as I am.” I don’t want to drag them into this unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s too dangerous.
“I trust you know what you’re doing, Lieutenant. Although I still think you should loosen up and have a little fun. Hey, Veronica! Don’t you know someone that would be good for the Lieutenant here?” Please be careful. Remember your contacts. Let’s get one in touch with you.
“Hm?” Veronica looked up from Hayate, blinking as if she hadn’t heard the conversation, then lighting up as the last question registered. “Ohhh, I bet Gerrard would be good for her! Or maybe, if you like them more exotic, Miss Lieutenant, Jean-Luc. He’s an experienced one!”
Veronica chattered on about the different men she could set Riza up with—different contacts, they all knew—and they talked amicably about such things for a bit, only stopping when the food had arrived, and they all dug in. It was, as usual, delicious, and Veronica declared that it was to die for. It wasn’t long after that, that they all stood to leave, Veronica once again on Roy’s arm.
“Well, our date night has just begun,” Mustang said, “And there’s plenty more to do. But I trust I’ll see you around tomorrow, Lieutenant?” We have more information to gather. Will you be okay?
“Then I hope you have a good time,” she said, looping Hayate’s leash around her wrist and picking up her basket. “I’m sure we’ll at least see each other in passing.” Good luck. I’ll be alright.
“Then have a good night, Lieutenant.” Roy said, a slight tip of his hat to her. Be safe.
“Bye, Riza!” Veronica called back as the two began to walk away. “I’ll see about setting you up with someone! I’ll send the details with Roy here!” I’ll set you up a contact too. And give you a reason to talk to Roy.
Riza laughed. “I’ll look forward to it. Thank you.” Thank you for giving me a reason to talk to him.
She watched them walk away for a moment, settling her basket on her arm a little better before she too sat out for home. Her heart felt lighter, and her steps more sure as she walked, Hayate trotting by her side. Perhaps it was just foolishness, but this was just the coincidence that she needed tonight.
#royaiweek19#royai#fanfic#fma fanfiction#royai fanfiction#Riza Hawkeye#Roy Mustang#holy crap its been years since I wrote any fancfiction#or at least any that I shared!#I hope this is decent!
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°*TouMaki - Advent Calendar 2018*° DAY 06 - “LIGHTS” by @grimelius
Mod’s Note: …remember what I said about ActualChristmasTree!Makishima being universally accepted as canon? Good. Please enjoy this winter trip to Toudou-an - the season really becomes the place and its inhabitants! Thanks, @grimelius, for sharing!**
Author’s Note: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope your year ends well!
Makishima stepped off the train platform at the Hakone station and took a deep breath as he tried to force himself to relax. There was nothing strange about spending time with a friend over the winter break and since he was going to spend New Years with his family, that meant that the most convenient time to go visit just so happened to be Christmas. One of the more romantic holidays, spent with Toudou Jinpachi and the rest of his family.
Makishima figured it would either be a complete wreck or extremely entertaining and he was hoping for the latter. The real issue that worried Makishima was between him and Toudou. After all they were… what exactly? Makishima sighed and hitched his bag up and headed towards the exit, following the stream of busy people.
Neither he nor Toudou had actually talked about what was happening between them. They were now far beyond friends but neither had said that word and it was looming over both of them, creeping into the silent spaces whenever Toudou or Makishima couldn’t find something to say.
It had almost been enough to make Makishima decline the invitation when Toudou had called him up a few weeks earlier and told him that winter break was a perfect time to come down and spend time relaxing at an onsen and no one in their right mind would pass up a free stay at a spectacular historical inn and wasn’t Maki-chan lucky that he could go for free and so on and so on.
But he did want to go, nerves aside and well, if he was being practical, the two of them really should talk. And he wanted to do it in person, not over the phone and-
“Maki-chan!”
Makishima almost jumped out of his shoes. He looked around surprised since he’d expected to be tackled but where was Toudou? The exit was full of people rushing in every direction and Makishima didn’t see Toudou anywhere.
“Over here! Quick!”
Makishima swiveled to follow the voice and finally saw it, a small white pickup truck and looking out from the drivers’ side; two nearly identical people were waving at him enthusiastically. Jinpachi and his older sister Nana. It was unnerving how similar they looked even though they were siblings, though Nana didn’t share her brother’s obsession for headbands.
“Toss your stuff in the back and hop in” Nana called out and Makishima obeyed before cramming himself in next to them and they took off down the road.
“How was the train down?” Toudou asked.
“Quiet. Nothing really happened,” Makishima replied. “Which is how I like it.”
“Well prepare yourself for chaos because we’ve got a Christmas on a weekend this year so the inn is extra busy. Not that you need to worry about that, but I have to work a little,” Toudou admitted.
“Heh, I don’t mind helping out if you need me too. As long as it’s not guest relations,” Makishima offered.
Both Jinpachi and Nana laughed at the suggestion. “Don’t worry, Makishima-san. We’ll save that for the fifth time you come to visit,” Nana teased him and Makishima grinned a little. Next to him, Toudou slipped his hand into his and squeezed.
Between the two over-talkative siblings, it was almost impossible for Makishima to get much of a word in but he didn’t really mind. Hakone was as beautiful as ever and Jinpachi and Nana took the opportunity to point out every interesting or historical thing they drove through town. It didn’t take long for them to reach the inn and as soon as they got up to Toudou’s room, he pulled Makishima’s bag away and slipped into his arms, and kissed him. Makishima wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer until they broke apart and Toudou nestled in closer, resting his head against his shoulder.
“Finally some privacy. I missed you! I don’t get to see you enough now that the season is over,” Toudou complained.
“Mmmm. The season hasn’t been over that long,” Makishima replied but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss seeing Toudou constantly at races. Finding the time and energy to get to Hakone or Chiba was always easier said than done.
“Long enough, plus you were supposed to come down sooner than this,” Toudou replied as he stepped back. “Let’s get you settled in for now” and he grabbed Makishima’s bag and set it out of the way by his bed. “I’ll grab a futon and bedding for you later.
“Thanks.” Makishima looked around at Toudou’s room. It looked like Toudou had put a little tree on his desk but otherwise it was as Makishima remembered, a small bed against the wall, a mirror next to his closet, dresser drawers, a desk and a ridiculous amount of biking and mountain posters. It was small and cozy, so different from Makishima’s own large and fancy house.
“Maki-chan, are you listening?”
“Hmm?” Makishima turned his attention back to Toudou who looked a little annoyed.
“I was saying texts and phone calls aren’t the same and that we need to work harder if we want to see each other during the off season,” Toudou pointed out.
“Oh, yeah. Okay,” Makishima agreed.
“Well, make yourself at home,” Toudou offered. “Are you hungry? Do you want a drink or anything?”
Makishima shook his head and sat down on the bed and Toudou regarded him carefully before sitting next to him on the bed.
“Are you okay with spending Christmas with us?”
Makishima thought about it. “It’s fine. We usually just have cake and junk food and stuff. My sister likes to decorate a little but that’s about it. Sometimes our parents get us presents. It’s not a big thing for us,” Makishima explained. “I just don’t want to get in the way.”
“Don’t worry,” Toudou reassured him, “You’re a guest. And my parents only put their own children to work so you’re safe.”
“You don’t want me scaring away your guests?” Makishima teased him.
“There is proper way to treat guests at Toudou-Ann and if you want to work with them, you’ll have to go through training, Toudou said primly. “We have a high reputation to maintain. Now it’s my turn. Did you get me a Christmas present?”
Makishima was surprised by the sudden topic change but he nodded yes.
Toudou looked absolutely delighted and Makishima said quickly, “It’s nothing too fancy or anything. Just so you know.”
“I’ll love anything you give me Maki-chan,” Toudou promised him. “I got you one too.”
“I hope you like neon,” and he smiled a little when Toudou rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs.
“You ju-st got here, don’t make me kick you out so soon.”
Makishima laughed and let his head fall onto Toudou’s shoulder and he felt his chest swell when Toudou leaned his head against his and wrapped an arm around his waist.
———-
Makishima spent the remainder of the day visiting with Toudou’s family, getting introduced to some of the staff, helping out around the inn and hoping they would get to into the baths that evening. Toudou insisted that Makishima could sit and relax while he finished up his chores but Makishima liked having something to do and after all he was there to spend time with Toudou even if that meant folding his own weight in pillowcases.
“Usually we’re not this busy at Christmas time but as soon as it’s a weekend, everyone decides to turn it into a trip,” Toudou complained, glaring at the vast piles of folded sheets and bedding all over the huge laundry room. Makishima kept folding what felt like endless piles of pillowcases, the static in the air making his hair frizz up.
“It should be quiet for New Year’s right? You guys aren’t as busy then?” Makishima asked, pushing his hair behind his ears for what felt like the thousandth time.
“Well we technically shut down for the 1st through the 3rd so we’re not busy, we’re just closed. Some places stay open but for us, it’s one of the only times we close during the year. Maybe we’ll get snow this New Year? he wondered.
“Do you get snow for Christmas?” Makishima asked.
“I think it’s happened once or twice in my life before but not usually,” Toudou replied thoughtfully. “We usually get snow further into winter.”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“Hmmm, well you can sleep in if you want; I have to help with breakfast prep. Then we can go into town and or do whatever we want, Toudou suggested. “We can hang out here if you want. Maybe go hiking? I’m sure we’ll need to go to the store for some reason. We’re doing presents for sure though!”
The next day, Christmas day turned out almost exactly as Toudou had predicted. Makishima woke up to busy inn, staff members busy at work and members of the Toudou family scattered all over the premises. Makishima took the time to eat, read and then soak in the baths, enjoying himself but also trying not to add more work to the already busy family.
Finally in the late afternoon, Toudou and Makishima managed to sneak off to Toudou’s room to exchange gifts.
“Me first! I want to open mine first, the suspense is killing me. After what you said, I need to know the color!” Toudou demanded impatiently.
Makishima laughed but went and pulled a vividly wrapped present from his bag and tossed it to Toudou. “Merry Christmas Jinpachi. I uh, I hope it fits?” he said hopefully. “We’re the same height so…”
Toudou didn’t bother with finesse; he tore into the present scattering paper everywhere and yanked the box open as quickly as he could.
“Oh my god, look at this!” Toudou gushed and held up the shirt so he could see it better.
Makishima had bought Toudou a long sleeved shirt with different traditional Japanese patterns crisscrossing each other. The fabric was light grey and the patterns were printed in dark red, orange and black.
“I love it! I would never have bought this myself but I love it! It’s a weird mix of traditional and crazy.”
“That’s what I was going for, said Makishima, happy that Toudou liked his gift. “It’s traditional but also not.”
Toudou’s gift on the other hand was very practical; a book about long distance cyclying, with a special section focusing on the Tour de France. Makishima had never read this one so he was very happy with his gift.
“I got you one more thing to celebrate Christmas with but you have to wear it today okay? Otherwise it doesn’t make sense,” Toudou added, dragging Makishima’s attention away from his new book.
“Okay?” Makishima said hesitantly. He acknowledged that Toudou’s typical fashion sense was all right, but not his holiday one which could be a little more ahem exuberant than usual. And Makishima knew exuberant for crying out loud.
“Close your eyes,” Toudou ordered and Makishima sighed but obeyed.
“Aaaand open! Tadah!” Toudou crowed. “Christmas lights for your hair!”
Makishima grimaced as he looked at the headband in Toudou’s hands. It was white with a little present on it but dangling from the side was what looked like 30 white lights on a copper wire. Apparently the present was a battery pack that let you turn on the lights. At least they weren’t shaped like Christmas tree lights. Makishima shuddered, that would be even worse.
“You do know that you’re like the 10th person who’s told me to decorate my hair like a Christmas tree right? And that I’ve said no to every person who suggested it?” said Makishima, a little annoyed.
“Let me French braid your hair! Please?” Toudou pleaded. “It’ll be awesome. And not like a tree at all.”
���Why do you know how to braid anyways?” Makishima asked.
“My sister.”
And that was the only explanation that Makishima needed, but he kept protesting.
“I’m going to look ridiculous. My hair is barely long enough to braid anyways.”
“Excuse you! This summer your hair was just a little further than your shoulders and now it’s way past that. It’s going to be by your waist by the summer interhigh if you don’t cut it soon. You’re the hairiest guy I know!”
Makishima glared at Toudou who shrugged and added sheepishly, “You know what I mean. It’ll be beautiful.”
“Nothing can make me beautiful, let alone a weird braid,” Makishima thought dryly but it was Christmas and only Toudou would see him and he’d already taken it out of the packaging so…
“Fine,” he agreed. “You can braid my hair but don’t even think of hanging ornaments off me. Or anything like that.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that; that’s a wonderful idea Maki-chan,” Toudou said cheerfully.
Makishima groaned but sat down on the floor in front of the bed so Toudou could scoot behind him and still reach his hair. It didn’t take long for him to relax under the feeling of Toudou’s hands as he brushed his hair out and then began to braid, carefully weaving the lights into the long strands until Makishima’s hair was tied into an elegant braid, with the copper wire making his hair look even more iridescent than usual. Toudou tied the braid off with a hair tie and sat back so he could admire his work. Makishima reached up and tried to feel his hair but Toudou swatted his hands away.
“Hold still! Let me turn on the lights then you can look, okay?”
“Hurry up then,” Makishima complained and he twisted and turned around trying to see his back.
Toudou clicked the switch on the headband and Makishima tried to crane his neck to see but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t see but he heard Toudou gasp and he reached out to grab his shoulders to pull him around.
“You look amazing. It’s gorgeous! Here, go look in the mirror.”
Makishima went over to the full-length mirror that hung next to the door and tried to get a better look as Toudou hounded his steps.
Well it was certainly… something. His braided hair did look attractive and the lights scattered throughout it made him think of a Christmas tree but it also made him look almost ethereal, like a forest creature. Well, as ethereal as one could look wearing grey plaid lounge pants and a white t-shirt that said ‘Climb High!’ in neon blue letters. It wasn’t the worse thing that he’d done with his hair, Makishima decided.
“Pictures! Come back over here so I can get some shots.” Toudou waved him back over to the bed with his phone in his hand. Makishima knew better than to protest and he went where Toudou directed him and obeyed as Toudou pushed him into different poses and took pictures from every angle possible.
“I’m tempted to put you in some of my clothes but I don’t think that would really capture you. Besides, you look beautiful like this.”
“What?” Makishima said incredulously. “I’m in lounge pants and an oversized t-shirt. There’s nothing beautiful about me.”
“I disagree,” Toudou said. “I think you look beautiful. And I know plenty about beauty since I’m at the top of the scale. Why? You don’t believe me?”
Makishima shrugged him off. “I believe what you say, not what you see. That’s all.”
Toudou sighed and set his phone down. “Fine, let me show you then.”
“What are you talking about?” Makishima mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
“Let me show you,” he repeated and he went over to the door to turn off the lights, plunging the room into darkness except for Makshima’s hair. The tiny lights illuminated everything and yet nothing. Toudou came back to sit next to him and he reached out to cup Makishima’s face with his hand. Makishima had barely a moment see his face and all the tiny lights reflecting in his eyes when Toudou kissed him, gently at first but putting some pressure behind it until Makishima began to kiss him back. Then Toudou reached out and wrapped his arm around Makishima’s waist but unlike every other time, he slipped it under his t-shirt and across the small of Makishima’s back, running his hand down his side.
Makishima felt his brain short circuit as he suddenly realized what Toudou meant by ‘show you’ and his stomach clenched from nerves. He froze up, not sure if he wanted Toudou to keep going or if he wanted to push him away. Fortunately, Toudou noticed his reaction immediately and pulled back.
“Don’t worry. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I promise. You set the pace,” Toudou reassured him gently.
“I want- I’m not sure what- do whatever you like I guess…” Makishima mumbled, his tongue thick in his mouth, making it even harder to speak than usual. Ever since they’d started getting closer, he’d thought about them doing things, very specific things but it had always been hypothetical, not really something that he ever expected to happen and now he was sittin in the dark, on Jinpachi’s bed with his hands under his clothes and his hair providing otherworldly light it as moved and unraveled around them both.
This was not how he expected to be spending his Christmas but he was not complaining either.
“Do you know what you’re doing at all?” Makishima asked, half shy, half embarrassed by his own lack of experience.
“Not really,” Toudou admitted cheerfully. “I just like touching you. It’s nice.”
Makishima blushed so hard it felt like his entire chest on up was on fire. He didn’t know how to react. A small part of him wanted to curl up and pull away but a far larger part of him desperately wanted Jinpachi to touch him more, to cover his entire body with his hands and mouth and the heat of his body.
It was terrifying. And wonderful.
So Makishima decided to be bold. He scooted backwards until he had a enough space so that he could lie down on his side and Toudou moved with him, lying next to him so they were pressed together or as closely as they could be as they awkwardly jostled each other trying to figure out how they could fit their bodies together but not accidentally elbow one of them in the face or gut. They almost cracked heads at one point and Toudou had to get off Makishima’s hair so it wasn’t crushed underneath them.
But then they were together, face to face, chest to chest, their legs intertwining and hands carefully reaching out to touch, trace and creep under clothing. Toudou kept kissing Makishima on his lips, his face, his neck, his hair and it made it hard for him to him to focus on anything. He was certain that he had a hand wrapped around Toudou’s back, clutching at his shirt but where was his other one? Maybe he could pull Toudou even closer? The sudden need to get even closer consumed Makishima. He ground his hips against Toudou and he heard the groan slip from his mouth and there had to be some other position that would let them get closer and-
All the warning they had was a loud bam against the closed door but it was enough. Toudou flung himself so far away from Makishima that he fell over the side of the bed with a loud crash. Makishima managed to push himself into a sitting position and pull his shirt back down as Hana swung the door open, stopped in apparent confusion then flicked the lights back on.
“Come on you two! It’s snowing and it’s is starting to stick. We need you two to help sweep it up before it gets really bad. Also salt. Everyone else is already outside! ”
Then she noticed her brother laying on the floor, clutching his head and swearing loudly.
“What are you two doing up here?” she demanded, looking suspiciously between them.
“We were exchanging gifts before you decided to interrupt!” Toudou snapped at his sister. Makishima tried to avoid Hana’s gaze, certain that his bright red face would give both of them away. What if she figured it out? This was not how Makishima wanted anyone to find out about their relationship.
“Well, wrap it up! And stop spreading your ridiculous headbands around. The poor guy looks like a walking Christmas tree. ”
“My headbands are not ridiculous. You’ve told us what’s up now go away!” Toudou yelled.
“Both of you get downstairs then!” she snapped back. “You look very cute Makishima, but don’t let my brother corrupt you too much” and she winked.
“I’ll try not to,” Makishima muttered under his breath.
“Let’s get shoveling then its dinnertime and cake,” and she headed back out the door leaving them both to fully recover from the shock.
Toudou sighed and hauled himself to his feet. “I know what I want for Christmas this year, a lock for my door,” he grumbled and slammed his door shut.
“I’m surprised you don’t have one already,” Makishima said weakly flopping back onto the bed and trying to calm his racing heart. He was so relieved that they hadn’t been caught that he didn’t care in the slightest that the mood had been completely ruined.
“Our house is really old and I’m at the dorms most of the time now. But I think it’s time to ask for one.” Toudou turned and offered a hand to Makishima. “Shall we? Before the rest of my family comes in?”
Makishima reached out and Toudou pulled him to his feet but kept holding his hand.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast outside of a race,” Makishima teased him lightly.
Toudou snorted. “Careful. I’ve got ornaments somewhere. We can still deck you out for Christmas.”
“How about we switch?” Makishima suggested instead.
“Hmmm?”
“Later tonight, you can wear this ridiculous hairband and I’ll kiss you.”
Toudou’s entire face lit up and he pulled Makishima in for a hug. “Well I do tend to look better in headbands than you, so I guess that’s fine with me. You have to take some picture though. Oh! And I can try on my new shirt for a few and…”
Makishima grabbed Toudou and yanked him in for a kiss to shut him up. “We can figure it out later,” Makishima promised. Okay? Before you sister drags us out?”
“Okay,” Toudou agreed happily. “Let’s go. Merry Christmas Maki-chan.”
“Merry Christmas, Jinpachi.”
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protection ~ p.p.
synopsis: reader gets fed up with peter’s constant over protective attitude with her.
based on the request: Hello 😊 Your writing is absolutely awesome and you're a very talented writer! I was hoping you maybe wanted to write something where the reader is Peter Parker's girlfriend and she know that he's Spider-Man Peter is being very overprotective, since he doesn't want to bring her in any danger. The reader gets fed up by Peter constantly looking out for her and not letting her do anything Which then results in a huge fight, but hopefully ends well?:) Thank you so much if you write it❤️
a/n: Aww thank you so much flower, sorry this took so long to post but hopefully you’ll enjoy it either way. Also I know the first part of this is a little choppy and pretty redundant but I didn’t think I could jump right into the storyline without a little bit of introductory bullshit. OH well!! xoxo
masterlist
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Peter reached over, lightly poking your arm with the tip of his pencil from his spot beside you at your lab table.
“Ow,” you mumbled, peeking up at him from your notebook of physics notes, your pen pausing mid-word. “What do you want?”
Peter had been bothering you all class and had been acting clingy all day, and your physics teacher wasn’t making it any better for you by giving your class “free hour” wherein Peter had the full ability to poke at you, tickle you, whine at you and throw notes at you from his seat.
“I miss you,” he whined quietly, careful not to catch the attention of the teacher, before slowly tapping the eraser end of his pencil on your forearm.
“That tickles.” You giggle. You reach out to grab Peter’s pencil out of his hand but he catches your wrist before you can and yanks you over to him, your rolling chair squeaking as its wheels collided with Peter’s.
Your boyfriend laughed excitedly at your closeness, causing you to laugh quietly alongside him. He held your hands up and kissed them gently, smiling widely at you.
“What’s up with you today?” You asked, squeezing his hands.
“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. “I just miss being close to you. I’ve been so caught up lately with… well, you know.”
You did know. Peter was referring to his Spidermanly duties, which lately had begun taking up more and more of his time. You thought it was amazing that he was Spiderman, but he had a tendency of late to treat you as though you were some weird baby who was fully incapable of taking care of yourself.
It was clearly out of love, but you were a fairly independent and confident person and you didn’t need Peter following you around and watching your every move.
“Yeah.” You responded softly, looking down and absently playing with his fingers.
Peter leaned over and pressed a long kiss to your forehead before poking you gently in the stomach.
“I’m just doing it to keep you safe.”
You grabbed his hands.
“Stop,” you giggled. “I don't wanna get in trouble.”
“We won’t.” Peter responded confidently before leaning in to kiss you.
-
You hummed quietly to yourself as you hung upside down off of Peter’s bed, watching him as he worked on his web formula at his desk a few feet away. You were mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram on your phone, simply enjoying a peaceful evening with your boyfriend.
Suddenly your phone buzzed in your hands, signalling that you’d gotten a text. It was from your friend reminding you about her sister’s birthday party the following night.
“Shit.” You murmured. You had completely forgotten, and you generally weren’t a fan of going out to parties. You and Peter were similar in that sense. Neither of you were wildly popular, and you tended to keep yourselves in the confines of your small friend group along with MJ and Ned, spending most weekends eating pizza and playing video games at one of your houses.
“What is it babe?” Peter asked absentmindedly, fiddling with something in a test tube.
“Ugh, nothing.” You responded, sitting up slowly. “I just totally forgot Sarah’s birthday tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” Peter replied cautiously, slowly putting the test tube down and swivelling in his chair to face you. “when is it?”
“Uh, not sure,” You trailed off and looked down at your phone and scanned the text. “late, it starts at 10.”
“10 PM?” He asked incredulously.
“Yes, Peter.” You snorted, crossing your legs. “Sarah would never have a party at 10 in the morning.” You laughed at the thought of it. Sarah was a notorious party girl, and Peter knew that.
“Will you be out late, do you think?” He asked. “And how will you get home?”
You looked at him suspiciously. “I don't know, I guess I’ll cab?”
“Cab? That late? Are you crazy?”
“Peter,” you warned. “don’t freak out.”
“Y/N, you don’t understand the kind of danger out there. I see it every single day when I’m Spiderman!” He exclaimed.
“Peter, it’s a party.” You replied, exasperated. “I’m not going into a dark alleyway and waving a wad of cash around or something.” Peter sighed loudly, rubbing his hands over his face.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt. You don’t get what it’s like.” “I get that, Peter. I just… You have to let me experience things. I don’t need your constant protection!” You huffed, standing up from his bed. “I can take care of myself.”
Peter scoffed quietly, shaking his head and crossing his arms. You raised your eyebrows, mimicking him and crossing your arms defensively.
“What, you don’t think I can take care of myself?”
“I don’t want you to go to that party.” He replied coldly, ignoring your previous question.
“I don’t care what you want.” You replied angrily. You were raising your voice, and you knew May was surely eavesdropping from the kitchen, but you couldn’t help yourself. “Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you can control me, or… or tell me what to do!” You sputtered.
“Y/N…”
“No! I get that you’re a big hotshot superhero, whatever.” You exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air. “But I am more than capable of taking care of myself. This overprotective shit is getting really old, Peter.”
“I’m just trying to protect you! For God’s sake Y/N, sorry for being in love with you, I guess.” He yelled back.
You and Peter both froze, realizing simultaneously what he had just admitted. You stared at each other for what felt like ten minutes, your faces almost identical in shocked expressions.
“You…” You tried hard to get the words out but it felt like they were caught in your throat, and you were forcing yourself to push them out. “In love?”
“Y/N, I didn’t… I just meant…” Peter was stuttering now, his face slowly flushing deep red, and you felt your anger quickly dissipating.
“You’re in love with me?” You finally managed to choke out.
Peter stared down at the ground for a beat before looking up at you, his face now calm.
“Yes.” He responded, his voice no longer wavering. You could feel your heart beating a hundred miles a second, and you were sure Peter could probably see it pounding in your chest, even through the thick material of his borrowed Midtown Science sweatshirt.
“I…”
“Please, Y/N, don’t feel like you have to say it back. I didn't even mean to say it yet, I was waiting for the right time and it just kind of came out.” He was talking quickly and urgently now.
“Peter, shut up.” You finally exclaimed. He stopped mid-sentence, mouth open, staring at you. You couldn’t help but smile softly at his red cheeks, his dorky science pun t-shirt, and his protective goggles now pushed up and back over his messy hair.
You slowly walked towards him and he stood up, swallowing nervously.
“Peter…” You said softly. “I am hopelessly, irreversibly, painfully in love with you.”
His nervous face relaxed slightly, and you reached up, still smiling to smooth out his seemingly always slightly out of place eyebrow.
He stepped forward as you looked up at him and cupped your face in his hands, looking down intensely into your eyes before leaning down and kissing you sweetly.
It was so filled with passion and emotion and you closed your eyes, leaning back slightly as he pushed closer to you.
You grabbed onto his t-shirt and held tightly so as to not fall, but you soon felt Peter’s hands move from your cheeks to your waist, sliding his hands around under your sweater and to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. You moaned in surprise, making him smile. He pulled back, only a few inches at most, and rested his forehead on yours.
You were both breathing hard, and you scanned his expression. He looked serene, and you felt love surging through you for the boy standing in front of you, his cool hands on your hot skin and his breath warm and minty on your cheek.
“So fucking in love with you,” he murmured softly, running his fingers down your back and up again. You shivered, sliding your arms further around his neck and pulling him down close to you before kissing him again.
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Styles & Co. | Chapter 18.
Authors Note: Here it is, chapter 18!! YAYY!! I hope you guys like it! :)
I'd like to give a special shout out and thank you to a lovely mutual of mine who has yet to be shouted out. She has been incredibly helpful with the background info, @cloud-hop
Warning: Rated M for Mature audiences: May contain strong language.
Don’t forget the other links:
Can also be fund on WattPad, HERE Previous parts found HERE You can find my blurb Master list HERE To Enter to win tickets for Harry Styles IN Nashville TN, HERE
Harry:
I groan when the racket of my alarm blares its way through the darkened bedroom, the sun not even managing to peak through the curtains draped over the extensive window. My hand dances its way across my bedside table, striving to grasp my phone, accidentally hitting it to the floor before I can turn the sound off. “Fuck,” I grumble to myself, forcing my weary body to lean over the bed and tug my phone back up to me by its chord. With one eye open, I turn my alarm off, disregarding all my messages, including the ones from my sister and Anastasia.
I sigh profoundly as I lie on my back, my eyes blinking up at the ceiling, my mind beginning to wander towards the business side of matters, my mind racing with what my plans for the day are. I press my hands to my burning eyes, rubbing them, suddenly becoming distracted when I catch Elise’s affectionate voice, “Good morning,” she gently distracts me and I move to my side, propping myself up on my arm,
“Hey, why are you up? It is Four A.M.” I immediately question, taking note of how she is rested up against the headboard and the pillows. Elise gives me an inadequate shrug,
"Can’t sleep,” she answers, leaning over and pecking my lips gently, “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.” She smiles down at me, a small smirk managing to form across my lips before I fall back to my pillow, “Especially when you do that,” her voice continues before I feel the tender touch of her hand pressed against my bare back, gliding itself in a soothing motion,
“Mmm, that feels good,” I mumble into my pillow, closing my eyes as I become more relaxed with her touch.
“As much as I could sit here and keep doing this, you will be bothered if I let you fall asleep.” Elise gently lures me away from my comfortable state, my eyes opening as I prop myself back up on my arm, my eyes gazing at her.
“Good call,” I nod, “Do you have work today?” I challenge as I force myself to sit up and push the remainder of the covers off my body, drawing myself from the bed and to my feet.
I let out a heavy breath, a slight ache still tingling in my lower back as I stretch my arms over my head. Elise gives me another shrug, “I don’t really want to go in.” She dryly responds, reaching for her phone. I don’t bother to ask another question, I let her be while I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, allowing myself to gradually wake up.
I step back into our bedroom, Elise still against the headboard, the covers over her as her eyes follow me around the room.
"You didn’t sleep, did you?” I raise a brow while I bring my button down into my grasps, sliding it up my arms and drawing it to the front of my body. Elise shakes her head as my hands leisurely begin to button up my shirt,
“Elise, you need sleep,” I sigh, taking notice of the dark circles around her eyes.
“I am fine,” She mutters through her teeth, not convincing me in the slightest.
"I beg to differ,” I shake my head, “I woke up to you kicking and whimpering in your sleep, you are not fine.” … “Can you tell me what happened? If I knew, I could help.” I softly announce, my eyes not leaving hers as I button up the last button of my work shirt.
Elise grows withdrawn, not responding to me, her eyes just staring over at me while I wait for her to answer.
I continue with getting ready, leaving the bedroom silent while I pull on my pants, socks, and my shoes, my mind trying to think of a way to get her to speak.
“Baby, I have seen every Nicholas Sparks movie with you, I know every detail about everything you love and hate, this is not like you. Nightmares are very rare. Do you think for a minute I don’t love you or something, are you scared to tell me? Like fuck, Elise, I’d do anything for you and I know you damn well know you don’t have to keep anything from me. What the fuck happened?” … “was it Logan? I need answers. You don’t get to come home with bruises without an explanation.” I mutter, aware that my voice is a god awful tone at the moment, but I am very frustrated and hurt by the fact she tried to hide her bruises from me.
I shake my head, watching as she doesn’t say a word, her lips staying pursed into a fine line, her eyes staring at me, still.
I run my hand through my hair, “Elise, are you going to talk or just stare at me?” I question unsure of why she is just staring at me, completely speechless. ”I have to go to work, I’m going to need you to come with me.” I mutter, “and since you have a lack of talking to me, I don’t think there will be an issue.” I add harshly, grabbing my jacket and forcing it up my arms, my eyes burning into Elise as she stays in bed, “Unless you are sick, you are coming with me. Come on, get up, I am going to be late.” I gesture towards the time, watching as she glares at me.
“Why are you being so harsh?” Elle softly questions, finally managing to speak, reminding me that I am sounding like an inconsiderate prick at the moment, for the hundredth time in the last few days.
I heavily sigh, “Elle, I am sorry. I am not trying to be harsh. I am upset that my soon to be wife came home with bruises on her. I feel like I have failed as a partner if you can’t tell me these things.” .. “Get dressed, you’re coming to work with me.” I instruct, trying my best not to sound like a total prick. I just want her to be safe and to feel safe, and right now the best I can do is to keep her in arms reach, to do that, I need her in my office.
My morning has been nothing short of long and chaotic, with my phone continuing to ring constantly, my hands not managing to leave my MacBook keyboard for more than a few minutes as they are forced to write emails, proposals and everything else possible, all while I keep Elise in my office, safe and sound.
“Are you sure you don’t want coffee or lunch?” I offer as I swivel from side to side in my leather chair, deciding to subsequently neglect my duties for the time being.
Elise shakes her head, screwing her nose up slightly, not seeming interested in the coffee or the food that I have. For a moment I frown, but I decide not to act upon it. “Fine, more for me.” … “What do you want to talk about? You’re far too quiet for my liking.” I comment, taking a sip of my warm coffee, quite enjoying it as Elise leans back in her chair with a heavy sigh.
“You’re not going to leave me alone until I tell you, are you?”
I shrug, placing my coffee on my desk, “Baby, are you getting grouchy again?” I raise a brow, somewhat amused by her tone of voice, but also a little on edge about it.
I don’t know why she has been pissy lately, but for whatever reason it is, I hope it goes away soon. I love her to death, but her grouchiness is not something I want to deal with constantly. I want her bright and smiling, not grumpy.
Elise shrugs, pressing her arms to my desk and resting her head on them, completely dismissing the conversation. I roll my eyes and bite my tongue, holding back any comments that are threatening to escape my pursed lips.
I get back to my work, leaving her to rest and sleep while I slave away at my desk, making sure that everyone that enters my office stays quiet while Elise sleeps.
“I don’t know who it was,” Elise’s voice distracts me as my eyes scan my screen of another portfolio.
I peer over and see her now sitting back up, her head no longer resting in her arms. “He had dark eyes, he uh… he pinned me against the wall, his hands were gripped on my wrist and he kept shouting at me.” She softly announces, her eyes dropping to her hands as they rest in her lap, my heart breaking as she takes a minute to breathe, “I just… they just… they were mad and I don’t really know why. I don’t know what I did. I was walking to see you and then it all happened so fast.” Elise whispers, her voice breaking as she attempts to hold back tears,
“Sweetheart,” I sigh, my eyes softening while my heart continues to break, “They threatened if I screamed, that it would be my last breath. I tried to push him off me, but he was stronger and kept forcing me into the wall, his hands just kept tightening around my wrists… I just… I..” Elle begins to stammer, a tear falling from her cheeks, “They wanted the keys to your building.” She reveals, my blood beginning to hum with rage as I come to terms with the fact that this is because of me.
The love of my life was manhandled by other men because of my business.
“Did you give it to them?” Elise shakes her head, “No,” her hand wiping away a few stray tears, “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. You should have given the keys to them.”
“I didn’t have them on me,” she shrugs,
“This is my fault,” … “I am meant to protect you, I promised your parents I would protect and look after you, and here you, with bruises on you.” I breathe out, picturing her bruises on her body from last night, my hand shakily touching one bruise and her flinching away from me.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, it is. They got to you because of me.” …. “Baby, I am so, so sorry. I failed you, but I promise I will do everything to find those pieces of shit, I will personally do it. I don’t want you to go anywhere alone,” I mumble, my own hands shaking as I hide them under my desk, not wanting her to see the rage that is humming through my veins.
I want to pounce on whoever even looks at her the wrong way, I am ready to take down the son of a bitch that touched her. I don’t care what it takes.
“Harry, it isn’t your fault. I will be fine, can we just… maybe… can you be home at night? I don’t want to be alone at night and I know it sounds childish, but just for a little while?” Elise asks me, her voice having a touch of vulnerability to it, something she never tends to show.
I instantly nod, “I will do what I can to be home by eight, is that fair?” I question, knowing that I need to compromise a few hours to make sure she is comfortable in her own house.
“Thank you. And, can you not go after these guys?”
I scoff at her comment, "You best believe I am going to deal with them.”
“Harry, I don’t really want you attacking them… I am pretty sure they are more dangerous than Charles.” Elise speaks softly, her eyes dropping back to her lap,
“Leave it to me, darling. Why didn’t you tell me when this all happened? You could have called me, I would have come to you instantly.” I challenge, unsure of why she felt the need to keep such a secret from me.
We have never really kept secrets, she has always been the one to come to me with issues.
“How do I tell you that it was two unknown men that left the bruises on me? Two unknown men that that want access to your building, more specifically your vault. I am sorry, I was scared and I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to get mad at me, or anything. I panicked.” Elise begins to fully cry and I stand from my desk, shuffling over to her, caressing my hand to her back as she buries her face into her hands.
“Hey, you’re okay, I am not mad at you, come here darling,” I gently get her to her feet, drawing her into my arms where she buries herself into me and cries while I keep my arm securely around her.
“I’m sorry this happened, I promise to keep you safe, they won’t touch you again,” I assure her, my hand stroking her hair, as she continues to sob into me, her tears staining my shirt.
“I’m sorry, Elle.” I breathe out, not knowing what to say to her at this point in time.
My heart is just breaking with each tear that soaks my shirt. When I feel Elise sniffle and attempt to pull away from my chest, I unravel my arm from around her, dropping my hand to rest on her waist.
I give her a small smile, “I love you, remember that.” I whisper, my free hand resting on her cheek, my thumb wiping away a few tears, “No matter what, I love you, I always will. Never be afraid to talk to me or tell me something. I might get angry, but just know it is out of love.”
“I love you, too.” Elise sniffles, “Even when you call me crabby and tell me I am overly emotional,” She breaks a small smile, causing a chuckle to escape my lips,
“Well, even when you are grumpy and emotional, I love you,” I assure her with a smile before I kiss her lips lightly,
“I’m sorry. I stained your shirt.” Elise laments, gesturing towards my shirt, I glance down and discover mascara etched into my white shirt, an appearance that does not seem to be appealing, “And you have a meeting later, I am so sorry.” Her eyes glaze over, indicating more tears,
“Hey, hey, it is okay, baby. Don’t cry, I promise it is okay.” I promptly assure her, not wanting more tears to fall from her gorgeous eyes.
She sniffles a little and nods before I reach over and hand her a tissue, “Take deep breaths,” I instruct, unbuttoning my shirt and launching it to land over my briefcase before I wander over to my side of the desk, yanking open a drawer where I keep a spare shirt and tie. I have learnt my lesson multiple times with white shirts and coffee.
I now keep a spare in my drawer at all time just in case.
I pull on my new shirt, adjusting the collar before tying my tie, my eyes staying focused on Elise.
“Darling do you want to go to the bathroom and wash the mascara from your eyes?” I graciously offer, already offering my hand to her, escorting her out of my office.
I let go of her hand and wrap my arm around her, guiding her towards the bathroom while avoiding my workers. “Do I need to go get Anastasia? I don’t know how this makeup, crying thing works.” I offer, unsure of what goes on in the bathroom when tears have destroyed makeup.
Elise chuckles, leaning up and giving me a kiss, “If you want,” Elise nods,
“Okay, I will go get her, and then I will guard the door.” I give her a small smile before she walks into the bathroom.
I wander back down the hall and discover Niall perched over Anastasia’s desk, “Niall, are you hitting on my assistant?” I rascally laugh, observing as he directly straightens his stance and places his hands in the air in defence. “It is so easy to fuck with you,” I snicker before I turn to Anastasia, “Elle is in the bathroom trying to fix her makeup, I don’t know about any of that, so can you keep her company?” I respectfully request, distracting her from the task that I assigned her an hour ago.
Anastasia instantly nods, giving me a smile as she stands from her position at her desk, “Sure, and Mr.Horan was asking me about restaurants around here, I think he was hitting on me.” She giggles with a spacious grin, stepping around her desk and shuffling down the hall, glancing back at us over her shoulder.
I glance towards Niall, his cheeks blushing a crimson glow, a clear indication he has the hots for her, “Mate, no flirting in the workplace.” I pet his shoulder, “I think she has a boyfriend though.” I enlighten him, his eyes immediately decreasing as he frowns.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He mutters in defence, his brow furrowed into a firm glower, completely and utterly appearing to be irritated.
“Uh-huh, sure yeh weren’t.” I tease, “Is that why you frowned when I said I think she has a boyfriend?” I smoothly nudge him,
“Oh, whatever.” Niall crosses his arms over his chest leaning against Anastasia’s desk, “Can you blame a lad for trying? She isn’t exactly horrid, Styles.” Niall points out and I shrug, not really caring how she looks. “I don’t know how Elise lets you work with her, she is hot.”
“Mhm, and have you seen my fiancee?” I challenge with a cocky smirk, more than happy to boast about Elise, I can't deny it, she is far out of my league, and not just with her looks, she is fucking gorgeous, but her mind and intelligence never fails to amaze me, she is so pure, caring, and beautiful all over, inside and out. I hit the jackpot with her.
“I have, she’s hot as-” I cut Niall off, knowing how he is going to finish his sentence,
“Don’t finish that.” I mutter, “I already know,” I grin, nudging Niall again playfully, “While you are gawking over my assistant, can you go over the files I gave you?” I request, remembering I gave him a few files to go over and make a decision on,
“I did,”
I raise a brow, surprised he got the work done so expeditiously, “What? How?”
“I don’t have a hot fiancee to come home too, so I slaved away. I was just about to ask if you still want me to dig into where Charles Taylor is; I have a lead on his whereabouts, along with information on Meyer and that building you had wanted.” Niall informs me and I nod, signalling for him to continue his research for me since he finished his share of our partnership.
While he does that, I hold my promise to Elise and guard the bathroom, mainly for my own sanity. I can’t help but feel guilty for the pricks that got ahold of her, the least I can do is make sure she is completely safe in my building.
Her and Anastasia eventually step out, Elise no longer with mascara stained cheeks, but a smile painted across her lips. “Thank you, Anastasia, you can get back to flirting with Niall now,” I smirk, taking Elise’s hand, getting a rise out of Anastasia blushing and biting her lip, unsure of what to say, considering I sign her paycheck.
By the end of the month, I bet those two will end up to be quite the item.
I accompany Elise back to my office, a heavy sigh coming from her lips as she steps inside, an indication she does not want to be cooped up in my office. “Do you want to go upstairs?” I offer sweetly, “I know you hate it, but it is the best I can do. You’re not going home alone.” I inform her firmly, not wanting her to go home to worry herself.
She gives me a shrug and I take it upon myself to answer the question for her, gently tugging her out of my office and shuffling towards the elevator.
“You’re wasting time that you could spend working, you know?” Elise speaks up as the doors’ open and we step inside, I hum a response, pushing the top floor and entering the code to it, the elevator instantly rising, taking us to the highest floor.
Elise steps out first and I take her hand, the two of us modestly walking down the hallway. I take the moment to notice how the marble tiles shine against the glowing illuminated lights, the few art pieces hanging on the wall aligned excellently, nothing being out of place, just how I like it.
"Well, did you bring the card?” I challenge, my hand reaching into my pocket when we reach our door. Elise glares up at me, “I am joking, don’t strangle me.” I mumble, pressing the card to the system, hearing the unlocking and the seeing the green light before I push the door open and allow her inside first.
I close the door and make sure to double lock the door with the latch so that even with a card, nobody can get in.
Elise kicks her shoes off and goes straight to the window, opening the extensive curtains to reveal the view below. I step behind her and gingerly wrap my arms around her, her back instantly resting against me. “I love you,” I remind her, kissing her warm cheek as her eyes stay focused on the view,
“I love you, too.” Her voice is delicate and sweet, melting my heart as she speaks.
“I was thinking we could stay here for a bit, I have a lot of work to do, it would be better for you to stay here, that way I am just a few minutes away if you need me,” I whisper, informing her of my opinions.
To my surprise, she doesn’t whine or complain, she just nods.
She habitually whines when I mention her staying in the Penthouse, she seems to hate being alone in it, but at the moment, her being alone in the Penthouse is better than her being isolated in the house that is at least twenty-five minutes from here, without traffic.
I heavily sigh and course my fingers through my hair, weary, and frustrated as my eyes continue to stare at my screen that has a list of dot points that need my attention. It seems like my work is never-ending, no matter how hard I try, there is always something on my plate that needs my attention. If it isn't work related, it is related to Elise.
My attention is dragged away from my screen as my phone vibrates against my desk. I peer down at it, expecting to see a text from Elise confirming that she is agreeing to go to dinner with me tonight. I figured the least I can do is take her out to her favourite restaurant and love on her a little bit before I have to leave for my business trip.
I am surprised when I see it is a text from my sister, a simple text.
"Our place in New York is being destroyed. Rumour has it, it is going to be demolished. This is sad, Harry. :( Love and miss you."
"I will look into it and see. I'll call you and Mum later. Love and miss you too. CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry”
I stare at my phone as I place it back on my desk, part of me feeling like part of me is missing at the idea of the building in New York being destroyed. Of course, Logan would be the one to destroy something that is meaningful to me, of course, he would be the one to kill something, period. He always destroys shit.
I remember the building like the back of my hand, I recollect how it used to be. It was not just some building that had no value, or a place that was run down. It was always kept well, always had people coming in and out of it. The building was a studio that was not just for the big time musicians. I remember my Dad took Gemma and me there when we were younger, the first time I stepped foot into the studio, I was around the age of six. It was right before Christmas, back then, all I wanted for Christmas was a guitar, a normal guitar that I could strum in the comfort of my room, something for me to learn. Walking into the studio for the first time, I remember how my eyes lite up when they saw all the guitars lined perfectly on the side, record labels lined the walls' and I felt like I was in paradise. My sister, she didn't really enjoy the atmosphere or the vibe, no. She was more into trying to take a peek at who was currently in the studio recording a song. I, to this day, still have no idea who was recording when I first entered, I was more amazed by the guitars and the owner.
As I got older, I kept going back to the same studio, finding it to be my safe haven. The owner was a loving guy, and always had his doors open to anyone that had a small hankering for music and melodies. Every Wednesday night he would close down the studio to recording and would allow anyone that wanted to learn the fundamentals of music and instruments into his studio. He would spend hours teaching and amazing young kids with dreams of being future musicians. I was one of the few that always showed up when I visited New York, the owner always seemed to gravitate to me and the way I would play any instrument with such grace.
When I was seventeen, right before I had to start University and buckle down, I dragged my sister to New York with me for the summer, we spent most of out time in and out of different, small coffee shops and stores, and every other night we would go to the studio where the two of us would sit the owner, talk, laugh, sometimes even cry, while also playing a few chords of out favourite melodies. Without a doubt, we would always end up humming and singing along to, 'I Don't Want To Be', by Gavin DeGraw. It seemed to always fit the scenes of my life.
"I don't have to be anyone other than the birth of two souls in one. Part of where I'm going is knowing where I'm coming from."
I never forget where I came from—a small rural area. I didn't always have the excellent house in a gated community or an Audi R8—I didn't always have the luxury to buy whatever I wanted or to buy my loved ones the gifts they deserved, sometimes all I could manage was a shirt and a pair of pants for my Mum and Sister on Christmas.
I always remember the struggles as a child and do my best not to forget where I came from, or how I grew up. I may have all the luxuries I could imagine and so many opportunities I didn't always have, but they are meaningless if I forget who I am. Just like everyone else, I came from two souls, forming one.
"I'm surrounded by liars everywhere I turn. I'm surrounded by imposters everywhere I turn, I'm surrounded by identity crisis everywhere I turn."
My work of choice doesn't always leave me in a room full of people that are clean cut and perfect, I haven't always been in the right crowd, or able to distinguish right from wrong, but I somehow learnt while being surrounded by imposters, liars, fakes, and just people in general that wanted me to fail as a person and as a business professional. I wasn't always clean cut and perfect, I have my ragged edges, I have my faults, flaws, and my past. I have changed from who I used to be, I have grown and become successful despite the setbacks and the people around me that would try to tear me down, and still, to this day, try to tear me down.
I remember the way the studio used to feel on Thursday nights, pleasant and peaceful, not many people got to witness the way it was in its darkest hours and in the quiet times. To me— it was beautiful— I spent hours with the owner, we composed a few songs, towards the end, he became more of a fatherly figure to me. He understood my thoughts and the way my hands moved across instruments better than anyone else. If anyone is ever fortunate enough to step foot in the recording booth, for whatever reason, they will find their eyes casting on a black wall that has a perfectly painted white rose on it, one very similar to the painting Elise and I bought back when we were in New York on my birthday. The rose on the wall is the same as the one tattooed on my arm— the exact same replica— the tattoo being one Elise trails with her fingers on many occasions.
I remember when I got the call that the owner had passed away, it was right before the weekend I proposed to Elise. I remember I distinctly sat at my desk and stared at the wall, my fingers gliding over the tattoo on my arm every so often while chills ran through me. I sent the best arrangments of roses I could find— I went to every florist in the city to get the best and the most roses I could collect— it was something I had to do, it was the only way I could express my gratitude for what the owner and his studio did for me. I may not be who I used to be when I was seventeen and playing the guitar, harmonising 'she will be loved', with my sister, but I am still the same seventeen-year-old who has a heart and a soul, one that who found a home in a place that wasn't his own— one that escaped a broken home to find a safe haven between the walls' of music and solidarity.
The perception of this building being demolished, crumbling to bits breaks my heart to pieces, it wasn't just a place my sister and I grew to love, it was a place a lot of people developed to adore and cherish. So many of us left our souls in that studio, leaving us behind in the walls' and the sweet harmony of what was once created.
Those walls' grasp more heartfelt lyrics than anywhere else— those walls' hold the character of others that will never be shared— they hold esoteric talent that will never escape. Personally, those walls' grip the part of me that I had to leave behind— the part of me that couldn't continue its journey when I went to University and became who I am today— they hold the thoughts and harmony of a seventeen-year-old who didn't have an understanding of the real world.
I shake my head at my thoughts and the memories I left behind in a city, in a building that held so much. I swallow my pride and call the scumbag that is destroying something that holds value and sentiment.
"Well, look at what I have here... Harry Styles is calling me," Logan answers the phone with that smug fucking voice that I want to knock out most of the time.
"Meyer, that building in New York, hand it over."
"Of course, darling. Anything for you. Do you want my bank card, too?" Logan scornfully comments, irking my nerves.
I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment, doing my best to stay calm and not storm out o f my office and go strangle his fucking ass. "I want the building Logan, don't be a prick," I mutter, knowing that I need to stay calm in order to get my investment.
"How's Elise, how is she going?"
"She is great, waiting for me upstairs, so if you can hurry this the fuck up, it would be great."
Logan chuckles, continuing to play on my nerves, just the tone of his voice is enough to send my blood humming into a rage, "Now, now. I don't like the tone of voice you're using with me. Do you think I am going to hand over the building?"
"What is it you want?" I sigh, knowing he is going to have some sort of price for the building. "I don't see why you have to be a damn prick. You did not need to come over into my territory and stick your nose in on my investments." I remind him of the fact he did not need to dig and get into my investment. It was mine. Not like I wiggled in on his shit.
"Business is business, Harry. I saw an opportunity. It was just a bonus that you also had an interest in it. Guess you should have stayed in town instead of going M.I.A for a weekend. What was more important than keeping an eye on it? Hmm."
God, his voice is annoying as fuck.
"I was proposing—if you must know. Now, what do you want?"
"Elise, I want Elise."
"She is not property to bargain over. She is my wife, get your own."
"You're not married, yet."
"Logan, you're pushing your luck with me."
"Then guess it is no deal," Logan draws out the 'no',
"Leave my fucking girlfriend out of this, damn you're an annoying ass, fuck."
"Now I see where Elise gets her feistiness from, have I told you how I quite admire when she gets pissy with me? Kinda cute."
"Meyer, I swear—" I am cut off by him,
"Alright, alright... You have me exiled from everything... Let's see." He hums, and I can picture him sitting at his desk, running his hand over his stubble as he grins, leaning back on his desk chair.
"No," I warn him, knowing exactly where he is attempting to lead.
He is exiled for a fucking reason. I fucking hate him and he doesn't like me.
"You're not making this easy. Hm.. what do I want? What do I want?" He purrs like a bothersome child that knows exactly what they want but they want to keep everyone hanging. "Tell you what. If you want to buy it from me for double the price, you can have it. Oh, and if you can give me inside scoop to a few things."
I lean my arms against my desk, my hand rubbing over the light stubble I need to shave before dinner, "Such as?" I challenge, unsure of what inside information he is wanting or needing from me. I am the one that needs his inside information. Like, why the hell he has mine and Elise' files on record. Not to mention why the hell he has our funds.
"Where is Charles Taylor?"
Logans question catches me off guard. I was not expecting that to be information he wanted. I have no idea where Charles is. The last I heard of him— I was sending him to catch his flight to New York— while beaten.
I shrug, "Don't know, hopefully rotting in hell."
"You're lying, you have an idea." .. "I want you to find out where he is."
"I am not the FBI, Logan. Why do you care?" I challenge, curious as to what he has running through that horrid mind of his. Surely, nothing good will come of him wanting to know Charles' whereabouts. With my luck, he will probably lure Charles back to the city and fuck things up. Logan is good at fucking up. He does it all the time.
"I want you to find him and I want you to keep him away from the city, make sure he stays far away from London."
"So you want double what you paid, and you want Charles out of London?" I challenge, making sure I am getting his requests correct.
"Mhm, if you want to throw Elise in that mix too, I would accept."
"Fuck off, Meyer... Not in the mood for your shit."
"I will have my assistant draw up the agreement."
"Don't you fucking dare think about making her do it tonight," I warn, knowing he is plausibly already getting ready to call Elise into work just to piss me off.
"Why? I may just need her to come into the office." Logan replies with a cocky tone to his voice, seeming amused by our conversation, I, on the other hand, do not find this amusing in the slightest. He just wants to rattle my cage.
"Logan, don't fuck with me. I am not in the mood. You are getting what you want."
"Partially, this conversation is not over, I will keep in contact. Always a pleasure, Harry."
"Mhm, whatever," I mutter.
I hang up my phone and stand to my feet, ready to call it an evening as Niall wanders in. I close my MacBook lid and grab my suit jacket from its position overhanging the chair.
"I have news." Niall brings to my attention, seeming somewhat delighted.
"Good, I hope?" I sigh, needing some good news after having to listen to Logan's vexatious voice.
He shrugs as he stands in front of my desk, "Charles last known location was South Carolina," Niall reveals, my hands slide my jacket up my arms.
"What the hell is he doing there?"
"I don't know, he seems to be all over, his next place of interest is Seattle," He informs me, my eyes growing wide as Niall nods his head, confirming I heard him right. "Yup, there is a chance he will be in Seattle with us." ... "That's not all, he is currently the one on the name of the studio in New York. Looks like Logan was double-crossed."
"Fuck, I just did business with Logan to get that building. Now what?" I ask, unsure of what my next move is about to be.
Niall thinks for a moment, "How's that back of yours?" He raises a brow as I grab my phone and shove it in my pocket,
I raise a brow, unsure what my back has to do with anything,"It is alright, why?"
"I mean, you could go after him and get what you want."
I laugh as I pull my jacket towards my front, "I think Elise would strangle me if I got myself into any more physical altercations. We will have to think of something on the flight." I sigh, my eyes flickering to the door as Elise walks in. I clear my throat and gesture subtly towards the door, signalling for Niall to drop the current conversation without making it obvious.
"So, I can take Anastasia out for dinner?" Niall questions with a grin smeared across his rosy red cheeks. I roll my eyes at him before I shrug my shoulders,
"If she says yes, knock yourself out," I respond as Elise stays towards the back of my office, not wanting to intrude. "Come on in Elle, Niall was just about to leave and get himself a date." I smile, gesturing for her to step closer. She gives me a timid smile and saunters closer, dressed in a Navy blue princess cut dress that ends just above her knee, a pair of nude heels, and her black coat around her to keep her warm.
"Elle, this is Niall. You guys can formally meet now, Niall Horan." I introduce the two of them, watching as Elise stares at me for a moment, bitterly confused before she smiles and greets Niall with her usual sweetness. "Alright, don't get attached, get yeh own date." I joke towards Niall as he flashes Elise a smile. He rolls his eyes at me before saying a rushed goodbye and stepping out.
I leave my full attention on Elise, tilting my head as I grin, completely admiring how beautiful she is. "You look lovely,"
"So do you." Elise leans up and kisses me, my hand resting on her waist as I deepen the kiss. "We are ging to be late," I whisper as I pull away from the kiss.
"Mmm, you need to shave." She benevolently presses her hand over my stubble, letting out a small chuckle as I screw my nose up, "Yeh getting a bit scruffy, darling," she chuckles cutely,
"I know, I know, I will before my flight," I respond, grabbing my things before taking her hand and leading her out of the office.
I watch as Elise seems to shift her food around her plate, barely taking bites as she stays relatively withdrawn. Usually, she is full of energy and happiness when I bring her to this restaurant, she also tends to dig into the food like there's no tomorrow.
She loves this restaurant, but tonight it is like she doesn't want to be here.
She glances up at me, her eyes gawking into mine, "You're staring." She arches a sly brow, watching me intently as I shrug my shoulders back. She flicks her eyes back to her food, finally taking a bite.
I do my best to keep some sort of conversation with her, but she just doesn't seem like she is too interested, she is reserved and withdrawn, something I don't see very much with her.
I cock my head to the side, observing her every small move. "Are you going to be okay if I go on this business trip?" I question, her eyes batting up at me before she nods, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Elise gives me a short response, "I will be fine, Harry." She assures me, flashing me a petite smile that I sense is fake.
I frown as I try to figure out what is coursing through her mind, but I stop the minute she pushes a few stray hairs behind her ear and her eyes gleam up at me. Without much effort on my behalf, she begins to speak, her voice being music to my ears as I hold onto every word that leaves her lips.
I catch her giggle softly at a few of my witty comments, her eyes lighting up for a few moments, part of me feeling warm inside with every snicker that echoes from her.
I can't help but sit here and stare at her in awe. I am so in love with the woman in front of me, she is everything I could ask for—she makes me feel whole. All round she is so beautiful, not just on the outside but on the inside— she is the girl that seventeen year old me would write songs about— she is the girl that would be incised between the lyrics of my journal, she is the girl that has managed to keep me grounded, she sets me free, but also holds me down when I need it.
Her voice distracts me from my gaze, her eyes staring at me with their beautiful hue, shining under the restaurant lighting. "Harry? Were you listening?"
I give her a smile, nodding my head, "You're beautiful." I grin, her cheeks blushing cutely as she chuckles.
"Thank you," ... "So, for the wedding, I thought that maybe we could look at St Martin's in the Fields Church, and Westminster Cathedral for our ceremony and then for the venue, Syon Park, The Gherkin, or something. What do you think?" Elle asks me, my eyes still concentrated solely on her.
I haven't thought much on the locations of our wedding, to be honest, I have been imagining her wandering down the aisle straight to me. I can't wait to witness her walking down to me, to step down to our forever.
I nod my head, liking her current ideas, "They are lovely places, we can go check them out once I get back from, my business trip."
"Great. Do you have an idea for colours?" Elise challenges, her fork beginning to play with the food on her plate, again.
I crinkle my forehead, "Colours?" I clear my throat, unsure of what she means,
"A colour scheme."
"Uhm.. I don't know," I furrowed my eyebrows, attempting to think of what colour scheme I imagine would look charming.
I am not a wedding planner so I lack in this department.
"I was thinking Carmine, maybe a dark wine shade, but because it is May maybe a more spring associated colour? Perhaps a pastel shade?"
I shrug, not really caring too much about the colours, as long as she likes them, I am content, "Seems fine to me. Where do you want to go for the Honeymoon?" I challenge, observing as her eyes light up at the word 'honeymoon'.
"Hmm, somewhere nice and warm. I'd love to go to Italy or even Greece... Ohh, Paris would be nice."
"You have never been to Paris?"
"No, remember we were going to go two years ago but the stock market crashed and your business got in a rut for a little?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry 'bout that darlin'. I promise to take you to Paris eventually." I assure her, remembering that period of time I had dedicated to taking her to Paris, only for things to go south with my business.
I open the door and allow Elise to step out before me, the slightly chilly air rushing around us almost instantly, spring not really ushering out the bitter cold. "Can we go back home? I know we agreed on a movie but I just want to get home." Elise softly asks me as we step outside the restaurant,
"Yeah, are you okay? You've been quiet. You were fine when we were talking about the wedding and then you went quiet, again." I challenge, taking her hand in mine as we step down the steps,
She gives me a shrug, "Don't feel that great, I'm fine though, just kinda tired." She responds, something about her making me feel uneasy, I can't quite pinpoint what it is about her that is off.
"Do you want to wait inside and I will go get the car so you don't have to walk?" I offer, unsure of what is going on with her.
I have brushed her iffiness off for most the night, disregarding it as being part of an after reaction to being manhandled in public by random guys. I can only imagine the worry that is floating through her mind that she is doing her best to hide from me.
I take Elise’s coat in my hands as she slides it from her arms, her feet kicking off her heels. “You okay, Elle?” I ask, becoming a little sceptical as to what’s going on with her.
She doesn’t seem herself and to be honest, she hasn’t seemed herself for a few weeks. She hums a response, getting changed into more comfortable clothes as I grab my suitcase and begin to pack the clothes I will need for my trip. I probably should have done this earlier, but oh well.
I gaze up from my suitcase to see Elise staring at me, her lips curved into a bit of a pout, “now, darling. None of that.” I lean over my suitcase and peck her lips before she wiggles herself to rest against the headboard and the pillows, her hands bringing one of the decorative pillows to rest over her stomach, her arms hugging around the pillow.
“Do you have to go?” Her voice is low and soft and I nod, “can’t you stay?”
“Usually you’re happy for me to go,” I chuckle, “I can’t stay, baby. I’ll be back in like a week and a half,” I continue, throwing a sweater into my suitcase.
Elise heavily sighs, watching each item I place into my suitcase, instantly grunting when I throw in my black sweater. I raise my eyes to look over at her, her eyes beaming at me already, I smirk as I bring my black sweater back into my hands, "Baby, do you have something to say?" I chuckle, knowing very well and good she wants to keep the sweater for herself.
She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and wanders over to me, leaning up and kissing my cheek as her hand clutches my sweater clasped between my fingers, "I love you," she mumbles, taking the sweater from my hands as anticipated.
I smile, playfully shaking my head as she steps around me and places my sweater over on her side of the room, leaving me to pack without her gawking and stealing my clothes.
I frown when I hear a moan as I place the last button up neatly in my suitcase. I step away from the edge of the bed, the dim light from the bathroom creeping passed the half-open door of the master bathroom.
“Elise, are you okay?” I raise a brow, unobtrusively stepping into the bathroom, observing as her fingers are curled under the counter top, her back arched with her head bowed.
She lifts her head and glances over at me, her eyes seeming a bit dull and dark, “I’m not feeling too well, that’s all.” She takes a deep breath and I step closer, caressing my hand to her back, feeling her wince at my touch. I draw my hand away, instantly, and resort to gathering her hair away from her face, and rubbing my hand up and down her arm as she takes a few deep breaths.
She raises her head, “I’m okay, keep packing.” She adjusts her posture and stands upright, her hands leaving the counter top before she turns to face me. “You have a flight to catch in a few hours, pack.” She gestures towards the bedroom,
I sigh, wishing I knew exactly what was going on with her, maybe she is coming down with the flu? I really do not know.
Elise climbs up on the bed and rests against the pillows, watching me as I move my hands around my suitcase, zipping it up.
I don’t know what’s going on with her, she doesn’t seem to want to talk to me, she just stares and watches my every move— I honestly don’t know what I’m meant to do.
“Elise, how have you been feeling lately?” I challenge, paying close attention as she rests her hand on her stomach,
She gazes at me with a puzzled expression, “besides getting attacked and bruised? fine.” She references the two men, somewhat pissing me off as the words leave her lips, but I stay composed.
“How long have you not been feeling well?”
She cocks her head to the side and thinks for a moment, “Just today and the night I was working with Logan,” she responds, wiggling slightly against the pillows to get more comfortable.
“How did you feel that night?”
“I was sore and had a headache, why?” .. "Anxious too since I found that damn file." She continues, reminding me of the file that I still have yet to grasp in my fingertips.
“Have you been eating breakfast?”
Elise shrugs, “Not really,”
“Why?” I interrogate, not wanting to come off as an overly protective boyfriend, but something is up with her and I want to know what the hell it is.
“I haven’t had time and hadn’t had an appetite at six in the morning, why? You’re acting weird.” She mutters,
“You barely touched your dinner tonight,” I comment, remembering how she essentially pushed her food around her plate,
“I don’t feel well, where are you going with this?” Elise questions, giving me a peculiar look as she studies my features.
“You’ve been emotional and grumpy,”
“Okay, your point? Harry, what’s that brain of yours thinking? I can’t read between the lines.”
“You’re on the pill still, right?”
“Yes, Harry.” Elise sighs, seeming frustrated with my questions and lack of answers.
“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re not pregnant?” I finally let the question fall from my lips, an interrogation I had not anticipated to have to ask for at least a few more years. Neither of us is ready or prepared for a child, she has made it quite clear she does not want to have children.
Elise shakes her head, "Harry, I am on the pill," ... "Oh," she breathes out, her eyes lowering to her lap,
"Oh?" I gulp, her expression and the tone of her voice doesn't seem too appealing.
"I.. I, fuck." She mutters, "I haven't gotten my period." Her voice is low yet full of apprehension, my own body becoming excessively concerned.
I am not sure I can handle a baby right now, I don't think either of us can. Especially Elise.
"How late are you?" I gulp, my legs nervously shaking as I wait for her answer.
Elise shakes her head at me, "It is stress, I am sure," she clears her throat, "With everything with you, Logan, and just things in general, I am kinda suffocated and stressed." Elise reveals and I nod, taking her word for it. She knows her body better than I do, I can see why she is stressed. I just haven't thought about how things have been weighed on her. I have been a bit self-involved.
I have been in Seattle three days and Niall and I have still yet to properly come up with an adequate statement to ensure that our client should trust us with their financial funds. The two of us seem to have ducked in water deeper than we can handle; I am not use to having to fight for a business deal, usually, I just have to throw a few pitches out there and the client is in, but this deal, this is going to prove to be a very tough one.
Managing large sums of money for an institution that has many other business potentials wanting to close the deal with them, I can't help but be on edge. I don't like failing, I don't like to feel as if I am failing, but right now, I am failing with this deal. The financial market is not working in my favour either, it seems to be moderately declining against me. I press my fingers to my temple as Niall heavily sighs, his eyes focused on my MacBook screen as he stares at the shitty proposal we have.
My phone vibrates and I see it is Elise calling,
"Hey, darling," I answer, a small smile painting across my lips,
"Hey, are you busy?"
"A little, I am trying to prepare for my meeting in an hour. What's the matter?"
"Did the business world crash or something? Logan is being a real dick, did you know he only likes his sandwiches toasted? And he also doesn't like Red wine?"
"No, Elle, I did not." I chuckle, "He has always been a dick. Well, the business world isn't too hot, the stock market is not looking good."
"Oh no, is that going to affect us a lot?"
"I am not sure, love. Don't worry about that though, leave it to me. Baby, I need to go and get this done with Niall, I'll call you after the meeting, I love you."
"Good luck, I love you too. Go get 'em." Elise chuckles before we both hang up.
I turn to Niall, his lips forming in a smirk, "I love you, I love you too." He mimics me, trying to use my deep accent.
I roll my eyes at him, gesturing towards my MacBook, the two of us putting our attention fully back to our work, occasionally becoming side tracked when we hit a dead end.
I slam down my shot of whisky, my glass hitting the bartop as I let out a heavy breath, Niall doing the same. Neither of us expected to have fucked our proposal, for some reason, we were not good enough, the potential client did not seem interested with us in the slightest, he did not seem interested in anyone. He was emotionless, blank, all he could manage was a deadpan expression. I might as well have been throwing a pitch to a fucking monkey or to the wall. I could get more of an interest out of my God daughter who is two.
I drum my fingers harshly against the bartop, my mind rattling. I turn to Niall, bitterly disappointed with this evening's happenings, "We need to get another meeting with him. We are fucked if we don't. I have a forty percent buyout on the table to invest in... But if this proposal flops, and the stock market declines, I will be fucked." I mutter, shaking my head at the bartender as he offers me another drink.
I do not need to drink, not until I am safe and sound in the hotel. I still have another hour and a half before I can get to the comfort of my hotel room.
Niall sighs, forking his fingers through his hair for the third time before he turns around, leaning his back against the bar, "We need a backup. We are in a room full of business men. We need to find one that needs us more than we need them...Say, the one with the pretty blond in the red dress." Niall subtly gestures towards a man and a woman grabbing flute glasses from the waiter.
I shake my head, "They don't need us, he is linked to a few top guys... His net worth is more than both of ours combine," I inform Niall, cocking my head to the side, trying to scan the room for an easy opportunity.
Niall hums, crossing his arms over his chest, his dark eyes doing the exact same as my own, prying for prey, "What about the brunette in the purple dress? she looks sophisticated."
"And that she is," I nod, "But, she is associated with Logan. That is not territory I can not trespass on. She takes gambles with the stock market, I wouldn't gamble with her, she could destroy us."
With so many people in the room, so many of them being investors, businessmen and women, none of them seem to be appropriate enough for the type of proposal I am after. I don't want a gamble, I want something that is steady and set in stone. I need someone that is not going to become bankrupt if things collapse. I predict a downfall, and I do not want to be in the middle of any uncertainties when it happens.
Here, Niall and I stand surrounded by many people, situated in the largest city in the Northwest of the United States. . Seattle is the 29th most competitive city in the world. Home of Microsoft headquarters, a major company that sparks wonders within the society of business. Seattle receives an economic strength ranking of 28th, globally. It ranks Number one among U.S. cities for human capital. And yet, I have seemed to have failed my proposal as a business man and can not seem to get a grip of a second plan.
My eyes take one last glance around the area, dipping up and down, around the crowd to see if anyone can be drawn into my clasp. I cock my head the side, my eyes settling on a man that seem familiar. I clench my jaw at the sight of the figure, my eyes narrowing to crinkled slits as the man comes further into view. I unrelentingly stare him down with a tall erect posture.
I don't know when he slithered through the door, but he seems to have skulked on the edges of the crowd, not trying too hard to be seen, nor trying to be concealed. His nystagmic eyes meet mine and every fibre in body begins to go fucking insane. Every part of me wants to battle my way through the melee, to viciously yank him away from the crowd and pin him against a wall, to hover over him with malice like a threatening storm. I want to rip through him like a tornado on a path of destruction; I want to fucking destroy him; I want to finish the job I started. I want Charles Taylor to ultimately pay.
Thoughts? Opinions? What do you guys think? I really love to hear your reactions and responses/ what you think will happen next. Xx
#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#one direction imagines#harry styles prompts#one direction prompts#harry styles blurbs#one direction blurbs#one direction preferences#harry styles fluff#harry styles preferences#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#one direction fanfic#one direction fanfiction#one direction blurb#one direction preference#harry styles prompt#one direction writing#harry styles writing
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Adventures in Child-Superheroes
Chapter 2 -”Fly away from me”
Summary: If Alex thought her first night with a tiny Kara was eventful she has another thing coming. Especially where douche-bag new staff members are concerned...
Link to previous chapter
Ao3 Link
"Nooooooooo!"
Alex groaned as a tiny blonde blur whizzed past her. After taking Kara home, she'd attempted to lure the tiny Kryptonian to bed, hoping she would fall right asleep; but instead, she had been constantly pestered, because apparently a four-year-old Kara didn’t want to sleep and somehow had an endless supply of energy - even at 4:30 in the morning.
"Kara, please just lie down."
She could hear it, the sound of jumping and giggling. Grumbling, she stormed into the main room. There Kara was, giggling as she bounced on the makeshift bed Alex had prepared on the sofa. She noted that all but one pillow had been tossed onto the floor and the bin was overflowing with candy wrappers. Her gaze fell to the coffee table, where several lines of Starburst had been organized by colour. She wanted to laugh, but then Kara's giggles increased and reminded her why she come into the room in the first place.
Hands on her hips, she exhaled, exhaustion and frustration clear in her tone. "Kara Zor-El Danvers, get down right now!"
Kara stopped bouncing, twisting around to look at Alex. Alex's eyebrow quirked as the girl froze, her tiny nose crinkling before she grinned and resumed her bouncing with extra force.
"You have five seconds to get down, or I'm taking your Starburst."
Kara's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't stop, jutting out her bottom lip in a defiant pout.
Alex glared, holding up a hand as she started counting down.
"Five."
Kara bounced higher.
"Four."
She moved closer to the table, and saw a flicker of fear flash in Kara's eyes.
"Three."
Kara's hands flailed as Alex leaned down to grab one, her voice coming out as a soft whine. "Alex, nooooo! Don't! You'll mess it up!"
"Are you going to lie down and go to sleep?"
Kara nodded frantically, and Alex smiled as the girl plopped down and stared up at her with wide eyes. She moved away from the table, pulling the blanket back so Kara could clamber under. Picking up the pillows, she fluffed them before placing them under Kara's head and tugging the blanket back over her tiny frame.
"Now go to sleep."
Alex stared pointedly at the child, satisfied when all Kara did was frown before closing her eyes and snuggling into the blanket. She waited a minute - just to make sure – before turning off the lamp and stumbling back to her bedroom. She collapsed onto the bed, breathing a sigh of relief before falling into a peaceful slumber, completely unaware of the small footsteps approaching. She woke up not a minute later to the feeling of someone pulling on her arm. Opening her eyes, she saw Kara looking at her with hopeful eyes.
"Mu… Go back to your bed." The words come out as a sleep-filled mumble.
"Alex, there was a noise. I'm scared."
Alex didn't know if it was the fact she was sleep-deprived or if it was how innocent Kara’s voice sounded that made her give in. Without a word, she pulled back the covers and made a vague gesture. Kara climbed up unsteadily, pushing herself into the empty space and pulling the covers back over them both. Kara wiggled and shifted around for a minute, letting out a little huff each time she rolled into another position. Grumbling, Alex wrapped an arm around her, gently pulling her close, Kara's back against her chest as she curled herself around the girl. Alex closed her eyes with a content smile as Kara calmed and she fell asleep just as the girl turned around to nestle into her.
Alex entered the DEO with a full cup of steaming coffee in one hand, her other held out to help her balance since Kara had attached herself to her leg and was practically being dragged into the building.
Maggie and Winn both failed to contain their laughter at the scene as Alex grumbled into her coffee cup. Kara frowned as Alex tried to shake her off, clinging tighter as the two approached their friends.
"Rough night?"
"You have no idea."
Maggie reached out to squeeze Alex's arm, before dropping her gaze to Kara, an idea forming in her mind as she flashed the child a warm smile.
"Hey, Kara. Do you want to come sit with me in the big girl's chair?"
Kara's face lit up and she eagerly took Maggie's outstretched hand, letting the detective guide her to the large black swivel chair. Alex gave her girlfriend a grateful nod.
She took a large gulp of her drink, letting the hot liquid pour down her throat. Winn smirked at her, and she resisted the urge to shove him only because she was so dead tired.
"Dude, you look terrible. What did Kara do?"
"It’s more what she didn't do: sleep! Her energy has increased somehow."
Winn nodded, chuckling as they looked over at the four-year-old who was chattering away to Maggie. Alex smiled despite herself, smirking as Kara retrieved a handful of Starburst from her pocket and dropped them into an unsuspecting Maggie's hands. She enjoyed the sweetness in Maggie's expression as the detective shared with Kara, smiling when Kara munched loudly with a huge smile on her face.
"Alex, a word." Her smile vanished instantly when J'onn's voice sounded from behind her, and she knew she was in for a lecture. Sighing, she moved to the side as he came to stand in front of her. She expected him to shout; but when he spoke, his voice was surprising calm.
“I’m glad you’ve brought Supergirl. We need to run some tests.”
“She won’t like that,” Alex warned, knowing how her sister felt about probing. J’onn gave her a stern look, and she rolled her eyes and headed over to join the others.
Plastering a fake smile on her face, she turned to address the four-year-old, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with Maggie’s badge as the detective fiddled with her hair. Maggie noticed her girlfriend’s soft smile as the agent leaned down to whisper in Kara’s ear. Kara’s eyes shot up, and she was soon smiling at her sister and wiggling in place. Alex smiled back as Maggie carefully threaded Kara’s hair, twisting the strands into a beautiful waterfall braid.
“There you go, Little Danvers. All finished.”
Kara leaped up, wrapping the detective in a warm hug which she happily returned. Smiling, Kara repeated a chant of thank yous and squeezed tighter.
Noticing this, Alex decided to cut in. “Maggie needs to breathe, Kara.”
Kara let go at once, giving her sister a sheepish grin.
Alex gave the girl a reassuring smile as she spoke, extending her hand for Kara to hold. “Okay, Kara. We’re going to go up to the med bay now, so they can figure out how to fix this.”
The four-year-old’s eyebrows furrowed, and Alex could see the flash of nervousness in her eyes, her little hands fidgeting and her lip quivering slightly as she looked up at the brunette with wide eyes.
“It won’t take long, and I’ll be there the whole time. Okay?”
Kara gave a small nod, before slipping her little hand into Alex’s. She waved goodbye to Maggie, and then the two walked to the medical bay.
....
Kara was unusually quiet as Alex helped her hop onto the hospital bed, nervously fidgeting as Alex prepared some supplies.
“Agent Danvers, you can wait in the hall while I perform my examination.”
Alex stiffened, her eyes narrowing and her arms folding defensively as she took in the new arrival. The voice belonged to Doctor Lang, the new guy J’onn had hired.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’m fine where I am.”
The man rolled his eyes and walked further into the room, his gaze locked on the tiny Kryptonian in front of him. Kara scooted further back on the bed, her hand gripping Alex’s shirt and scrunching even tighter a she moved closer.
“I can’t examine this one if you’re standing in the way, now can I?” Lang’s voice was full of disdain as he side-eyed Kara. Giving Alex a patronizing smile, he stepped forward until he was only a foot from the bed.
Alex looked at her baby sister as the girl tried to burrow into her uniform, flinching as the man stepped even closer. Springing into action, she placed herself between Kara and the man as she spoke with barely controlled anger.
“Kara is one of the most respected members of the DEO, and I am not about to leave her side. So if you’re done patronising, maybe you can get on with it and do what you’re paid to do.”
She tried not to smirk at the surprise that flashed across the man’s face before he regained his composure and angled his head around her to look at Kara. Kara squirmed under his intense stare and Alex could tell she was still getting bad vibes from the guy. Her own instincts said not to trust him, especially when he brandished a small pair of handcuffs.
"Well, she will need to be restrained so I can-"
"Excuse me?” Alex cut him off. “Why the hell would she need to be restrained?"
"When performing examinations on alien life forms, it’s always better to be safe."
Alex was livid, and it took everything she had not to shoot the doctor. She settled for snarling at him instead. “I’m telling you she does not need to be restrained. She is a four-year-old child!”
“She is a very powerful alien, and I need to properly assess any potential danger she could bring.” He tried to push past her, but Alex resisted, her hand resting on her gun as she spoke – or rather shouted, unaware of how loud she was becoming.
“Maybe you can assess my fist meeting your face, instead!”
Lang didn’t back down, his face red as he growled. “Don’t threaten me, Agent Danvers! I am trying to do my job, and you are not helping. You’re letting your emotions get in the way.”
“Damn right, I am! You need to back off.”
....
Maggie had nipped out to answer a work-related phone call. It was nothing urgent, so she figured she would go back inside and wait for her girlfriend. That is, until she heard the unmistakable sound of Alex shouting. Several people around her looked up at the sound, looking confused; and then her own concern hit her, and she hurried toward the medical bay. As she neared the stairs, a body barrelled into her. Looking up, she saw Winn standing there with an anxious look on his face.
"Did you hear-?"
"Are you going-?"
Winn barked an awkward laugh as he backed up. "Ha- Sorry. If you're talking about your girlfriend yelling, then yes I most definitely heard that. I'm pretty sure Metropolis heard it!"
"We should go." Maggie motioned with her hand.
Winn nodded in agreement. "Lead the way, Detective."
Maggie couldn't help but chuckle as he trailed after her, keeping a safe distance and looking nervous. She automatically reached for her gun as she got to the top of the stairs and the sound of arguing echoed through the building. Her pace quickened at as she turned the corner, her eyebrows raising a she heard Alex shout again, followed by a man’s voice yelling back. She almost sprinted into the room, on full alert, when she saw a man she didn’t recognize arguing with her girlfriend. The man was at least a foot taller, but Alex didn’t seem to notice, and Maggie could tell she was blocking him. That was when her gaze drifted to the terrified four-year-old whimpering behind them. Kara’s hands were cupped over her ears, and her eyes darted frantically between the two.
Winn moved from behind her, signalling as he approached Kara. Maggie nodded in response.
“Back off! You will not touch a hair on her head, or – so help me – I will kick the crap out of you!”
“I am the doctor here, so you are the one who needs to back off!” The doctor moved to push Alex back.
Maggie stepped in then, hurrying to her girlfriend’s side. "Woah! Keep your hands off my girlfriend, buddy."
She was well-aware she was small and hardly the most intimidating person in the room; but her voice was stern as she met his stare. Alex was glaring daggers at him, but thankfully Lang had the sense to let it go.
Turning, Maggie started to ask for an explanation, but his loud voice cut in. "Agent Danvers was inhibiting my examination. Besides, you're not part of the DEO; this is really none of your concern, Detective."
Just like that, Alex was seething again. Maggie struggled to calm her girlfriend. But to be honest, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to anymore.
“Well, I work here – and I say it’s her business,” Winn interjected. He shrank back as the doctor turned to stare at him.
The man scoffed as his eyes cut into Winn. “Please! You’re almost as new as me.”
Winn looked ready to protest, but the other man had already turned away.
“As I was saying, this matter doesn’t concern you. So you can take Agent Danvers out with you, while I test that one.
“That one happens to be my sister, you ass!”
Before Maggie could stop her, Alex shoved the doctor roughly. He stumbled back, knocking into Winn – who yelped and pushed him off. That only led to more shouting and shoving. Winn tried to back away, Alex was yelling, and Maggie tried to mediate as Doctor Lang cursed at the others. Their voices were getting louder by the second; and then James walked in, his brow furrowing in alarm as he caught sight of Winn cowering in the corner while Alex, Maggie, and Doctor Lang all shouted.
He rushed over to console Winn before trying to diffuse the situation. “Guys, calm down.”
“Stay out of this, Olsen!”
James held his hands up in surrender, sharing an awkward glance with his boyfriend Winn.
"What is going on in here?!"
Everyone turned to see an unimpressed J’onn standing in the doorway. No one said anything for a few moments; but then they all rushed him, five voices speaking at once.
Sighing, J’onn held up a hand, effectively silencing them. He turned to Alex with an expectant look. “Agent Danvers?”
“I brought Kara to get her tests done, and everything was fine until this jackass,” she motioned to Doctor Lang, “came in and tried to restrain her. I told him he couldn’t, and then he –“
“She’s lying, Director Henshaw,” Lang argued. “She got aggressive when I tried to do my job.”
That earned a scoff from Maggie. “Oh, please! When I came in, you were looming over her. I would have shoved you, too!”
J’onn rubbed his temples as they started bickering again. “Enough!” His voice boomed as he commanded their attention. “One would think you were the children here! I don’t want to hear any more of this he said, she said nonsense.”
“But-“
“Not another word, Agent Danvers.”
Alex frowned, but did not argue.
Satisfied he’d gotten through to them, J’onn continued, “Let me ask you this: How is anyone going to run tests on Kara if she’s not here?”
He shook his head as the others looked around and realised he was right. Frantically, they all hurried from the room, splitting up to search for the missing girl. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he’d hired a bunch of idiots.
Status report, Winn? -Alex
Mission remains incomplete, Agent FaceBreaker. Over. -Winn
This is serious, dude. We don't need code names. -James
You guys are no fun! :( -Winn
I'll be fun once I’ve found my fricking sister! In the last twenty minutes, has anyone made any progress? -Alex
I checked the cells. No sign of her. -Maggie
She isn't in the kitchen either. -James
Winn sighed as he read through the messages. They’d checked the training room and the control room, triple checked the foyer, and even looked under the stairs; but still no sign of the tiny Kryptonian. They had been searching for over an hour, and – as if he wasn’t worried enough – Alex kept ringing them every five minutes to yell. He stopped on the third floor, leaning against the wall as another alert pinged.
What if she's not in the building? What if she left and got lost outside?! -Alex
We don't know that, babe. -Maggie
We don't know that she didn't! -Alex
Okay, let's be rational. Even if she is outside, she can't have gotten far. We'll check there now, alright? -James
Winn started to type out a response, already making his way back toward the stairs, when a quiet rustling sound caught his attention, making him pause. Curiosity getting the better of him, he erased the text and sent a different message.
I'll meet you guys there soon. Going to check the rest of the third floor first. SchottThroughTheHeart over and out. -Winn
Sliding the phone into his pocket, he started walking again, glancing in every room and peeking around each corner. The rustling started up again after a bit, and the only room left was Alex’s office. It was a well-known fact that no one ever went in there, not even Alex; she usually used it to store jackets and various bits of paperwork that she hated filling out. As he neared the door, he heard a loud thud, immediately followed by a quiet “ouch”. Smiling in relief, Winn realised the dark office was the perfect hiding place.
Entering the room, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness and made his way to the corner of the room, where a desk cluttered with old case files stood. Beside it, he could see one of Alex’s favourite jackets hanging over a partially broken chair. His eyes drifting down, he spotted her, lying flat on her stomach under the desk. Staying quiet, he dropped to the floor, silently mirroring the girl’s position and using his arms to prop his head up so he could look at her properly.
Kara stilled, her eyes wide as she looked back at him with a fearful expression.
Winn smiled comfortingly. “This is a good hiding place,” he said, impressed.
Kara didn’t reply, but she relaxed slightly – a good sign.
“I can see why you like it. It’s quiet. Dark, too. You can just close your eyes and relax here. You like it when it’s this peaceful, huh?”
She gave him a hesitant nod, and he had to stop himself from shouting his victory to the world. He’d made progress.
“We were all kind of buttheads before, weren’t we?”
Kara giggled, the softest sound Winn had ever heard. Her voice was a bit louder than a whisper as she admitted, “I’m scared. I don’t like that doctor; he’s mean.”
Winn nodded. He couldn’t exactly disagree after being repeatedly shoved by the guy. He understood why she was scared. She had told him a while back about how Krypton was more medically advanced; injuries weren’t really a thing for them. Kryptonians didn’t need doctors, unless it was something incredibly serious. Thinking about that conversation made his heart hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to hug the girl and never let her go. Kara was so small – and even more fragile now.
Swallowing, Winn tried to think of the right thing to say. “It’s okay to be scared.”
Kara shifted, cocking her head to the side and giving him a curious look.
“You know, we humans go for check-ups at least once a year. It’s kind of like a holiday. They ask questions to make sure you’re okay, I like a friend would do. Do you want to know the best thing about getting a check-up?” He edged closer as she nodded. “You get candy afterward. They give it to you for being brave.”
“I get candy?”
“You would get so much candy!”
A big, hopeful smile broke out across little Kara’s face.
“All you have to do is come with me and let the doctor work. Do you think you can do that?” Kara looked unsure, and Winn could see fear in her eyes. With an encouraging smile, he stood and extended a hand to her. “I’ll be there the whole time,” he promised. “And afterwards, we can eat candy and play video games.”
She scrunched her nose and blinked up at him before nodding, her face breaking into a bright smile. She crawled out from underneath the desk, using his hand to pull herself upright. Kara held his hand all the way down the stairs and didn’t let go until she heard Alex calling her name. Taking off in a run, she launched herself into Alex’s arms, laughing melodically as Alex lifted her and spun them around. Then she held Alex and Winn’s hands as they all walked back to the medical bay together. She was still scared, but she felt safe in their arms. And with the promise of candy and video games, Kara was ready for anything.
#childhood superheroes au#supergirl#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#kara danvers#all of the fluff#and some angst#chapter 2 happened#my fanfics
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