#alright it’s midnight-thirty i need to drink some water and go back to sleep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearlywritings · 1 year

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I don’t want you to think, I don’t want you to worry

synopsis: Lately you’ve been very busy preparing for the examination to take the Akademiya professor position, and it leaves you incredibly stressed. All you need is a concerned boyfriend with a perfect way to distress.

pairing: Kaveh x fem!reader

tw: smut, oral, a lot of praise, a bit of dumbification I suppose, established relationship

word count: 3.3k+ words

a/n: Kaveh and reader are somewhere between late twenties and very early thirties.

Letters leap across the fully written scroll and your head starts hurting from how much of the words there are and how little free space there is. And when your gaze wanders to the side and in a blur makes out dozens of the similar scrolls sprawled all over your table, a frustrated groan on the verge of a whine escapes your throat.

You'll kill Alhaitham one day for convincing you to take an examination for the Vahumana professor position. But how could you resist and fight the prideful feeling rising in your chest when the Alhaitham, the man who rarely spares any praise, complimented and pointed out so many of your skills and vast knowledge, suitable for the position of such high prestige and importance. You truly were flattered, especially by his words that the Akademyia needs some reformation and even Lesser Lord Kusanali eagerly approves it… Could you really lose the opportunity and fail your Archon?

Now you think that you could, after a week of studying like a first-course student in anticipation for their very first exam. You should've denied him. For god's sake, you are the Dastur already and just one examination away from being recognized not only as a professor, but as the Herbad as well - not many achieved this in their late twenties, your multiple works are cited and analyzed during lectures, a couple even coming as close as being called fundamental, yet here you are, exhausting yourself over preparation materials, having little idea what will await you during the examination (no one knows, Alhaitham wouldn't tell and you wouldn't ask).

First few days were quite alright, but at this point you are slowly losing your sanity. Coffee doesn't work, green tea doesn't work, energetic drinks Dehya recommended you do not work… Even a relaxing almost half an hour long shower didn't help you. You can only brush your still a little bit wet hair back not to drip water on the scrolls, and sigh in frustration. You don't remember when the beautiful grandfather clock on your left counted midnight. It must be hours, but you have no desire to check - this discovery will only put you in a greater state of misery. Oh how you wish to be in bed now, surrounded by warmth and quickly drifting to sleep.

You will yourself to focus your droopy eyes back on the text, trying to grasp the last of the topic you are on. That's when you hear the shuffling behind your study's door. Ears catch the sounds of the footsteps passing by your door and going to the kitchen. Mm, looks like you are not the only one awake, but the other person at least has more chances to catch sleep today.

Ever since Kaveh moved in with you, finally convinced that you do not think of him as a burden and that no, you don't think it'd be him using you for his own benefits, he has managed to save more money and get very close to fully paying off the debt. This fixed his working hours and he stopped going all nighters like, well, you are doing right now, actually getting enough rest and energy to work on his projects' blueprints.

Why is he awake right now though? You have no idea and your brain refuses to even care, maybe it's just for a glass of water?

You change your sitting position for the hundredth time.

Only to almost jump when a voice reeking with discontent enters the room.

"Are you at it again?"

Tired eyes meet the red-wine ones of a man who always looks like he is about to give you a piece of his mind. And he totally is.

"As you can see," you want to sound sarcastic, but you are too worn out for this and have absolutely no desire to argue with the boyfriend that cares and really does a lot to lessen this weight you (and Alhaitham) have dumped upon your shoulders.

"Now I might sound hypocritic- not like I care, but you need to go to bed. Now."

His words settle in your brain, but become completely overshadowed by the picture your eyes are witnessing. Your gorgeous lover looks so ethereal. Blond silky hair is a bit messy, not held by clips, yet it only adds to his natural charm; ruby eyes glint beautifully as he steps closer to your table; strong arms cross on his bared chest, and you just can't help but ogle at how his muscles move. The only thing that spoils the visage is a deep scowl on his face.

"I can't. Not yet, pretty," you softly murmur, reaching for the scrolls to roll some of them. "See, I just have a small topic to review and that's it-"

"And for how long have you been on this topic?" An elegant arch of his brow and your face falls, telling him enough.

"Knew it."

The embarrassed expression appearing on your face and eyes casted downwards do not escape his sharp gaze. He might be just out of bed, but his profession taught him early on how to be observant and attentive to details. Kaveh sighs and resumes his walking to you.

You hear him stop by your side, nervously fidgeting with a scroll still tightly clutched in your hands. You feel slightly ashamed right now, for two reasons. First is quite easy to guess - getting caught in this state right after you nagged your boyfriend for months to start leading a healthier lifestyle and stop working till the latest hours of the night (sometimes well into the morning). And second is from feeling the weight of his gaze on you and understanding that he is worried and you are the reason for that (though you do both share the desire to kick Alhaitham's ass, since partially it’s his fault too).

But all the thoughts are wiped out of your mind when long fingers grab your chin and lift your head, tilting it back. The flash of gold, the gleam of red, and the next moment his soft lips are on yours. You melt. Fingers relax and you hear something bump your leg and then fall with a knock on the floor. Though Kaveh is quick to steal your attention, catching your hand and squeezing it, breaking the kiss just for a moment to breathe and then kissing you again. The room starts spinning.

"Kaveh…" you meekly whisper in between rushed and hot kisses, feeling your heart flutter by the way he stares deep into your eyes, before pressing his lips to your jaw.

"Come to bed with me," he urges you again, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, brushing back and forth, while more pecks are placed on your rosy cheeks.

"But-" is silenced with another kiss. Sweet whimpers form in your throat and your lover is happy to swallow them, releasing your hand and reaching for the back of your chair instead. You gasp when the piece of furniture is yanked and dragged farther from the table, giving him enough room to get in-between.

The man relishes the hazy look in your eyes, as you are looking up at him, knowing just what he is doing to you. Hovering, with palms planted on the armrests and leaning in. Oh, he loves how your gaze flickers from his face to his chest and back, which means he is actually distracting you and effectively so.

"What was that?" A smooth chuckle sends a jolt through your body and suddenly there is a tingling sensation in your core. "A 'but'-something? No, no, my lovebird, I need you to stop rationalizing everything. I want you to stop thinking. Yeah, that's right, just no thoughts and no worries about those stupid examinations. And," his gaze slides down and stops on the belt of a bathrobe you've put on after the shower, not caring to dress properly, "I might know just how to help you. Tell me, lovebird," he leans even closer, noses almost touching and lips brushing just briefly, "are you wearing anything under this?"

You swallow a lump in your throat and fidget in your seat. The excitement rising in your system becomes quite obvious.

"Ah, no, I figured-"

"Good… Means it'll be easier for me," and the next thing he does makes blood rush to your cheeks. He draws himself back and, kicking the fallen scroll somewhere to the side, drops onto his knees before you. Strong arms flex when he moves the chair closer and you jolt forward from the sudden motion, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself.

“No, no, my love, I need you to lean back,” his hand is gentle, pressing flatly against your chest, and pushing you back against the chair. You bite your lip, when long elegant fingers hook the hem of it, and teasingly tug to the side, then the other half. The material slides down your shoulders, baring your collarbones and not falling further only due to the plumpness of your heaving chest. Kaveh absolutely loves the view before him - if he was to build a temple in your honor, he’d capture this state of yours in one of the staining glasses. He leans closer.

Your head tilts back, when his hot lips press between your soft mounds.

“Mmm… You are so beautiful… I can’t believe this smart, and sweet and gorgeous woman is mine,” he slightly turns his head and sucks on the left breast.

“Kave- aah!” You whimper, arching into him, the material threatening to slip and bare more of you. Your legs twitch and wrap around his torso, urging him to press even closer to you. Archons, you were so caught up in your preparation, that you completely ignored your body’s urges, no wonder it's reacting to his igniting touches like this. When was the last time you let your lover have you under him like this, squirming and moaning?

“Uh-uh-uh,” he clicks his tongue, palm sliding up your hip, and burying itself under the lower half of the bathrobe, grabbing your curve. “I can clearly sense you are still thinking, and I don’t want it. Come on, baby, the faster you let me wipe all thoughts out of your head, the faster we’ll be in bed enjoying that nice sleep you’ve been pestering me with for almost a year.”

“I was worried for you- mmh!” The blond-haired tempter makes use of his free hand, groping your barely clothed right breast, brushing his thumb over the stiff nipple. The teasing touch and the pressure it provides through the thin material sends another jolt right to your cunt and your legs clench even harder in an attempt to close your thighs and rub them, failing to do so with his body in-between.

“I know you did, and I am worried for you now too. You are exhausting yourself. But don’t worry, I am here to help you relax and give yourself a break. Now, before I start executing my plan to make your mind numb, why don’t you untie this knot for me?”

Through the settling fog in your head, you will yourself to concentrate on what he requires of you. If before you still had that tiny slither of understanding that you are not done with the topic yet, now it’s right out of the window. Because how can you fight, when Kaveh looks at you like this?

So your fingers reach to the loose knot, twisting and pulling it, until two ends of the belt are held separately in your hands. The kiss your boyfriend presses to the inside of your wrist makes you shiver.

“Good girl…” He murmurs in a sultry voice, and you almost whimper from two words alone. He takes your hands and let them rest on the armrests, while he is all too happy to finally open the robe and leave you completely bare to him. And the sharp inhale he takes when he does it? You feel how you are leaking.

“Archons, you are so beautiful. I love everything about you,” a tiny moan escapes your throat, when he straightens more, reaching for your neck, sliding his naked torso right between your trembling thighs. “I love the way your neck meets your shoulders…” There is instantly a kiss right in the crook where your neck descends in your shoulder. “And here, these pretty collarbones,” he trails his kisses lower. “I love the curve of your breasts, mmm,” more kisses are spared for your tender flesh, “and your hard nipple too,” he gives it a slow lick, dragging his wet muscle over the stiff bud, and you moan again. “Oh, but I can't forget about the other one. I have to play with both of them equally, can’t show favorites, right?”

Before you can even answer his mouth envelopes your other nipple and gives it a soft suck, and then one more, and one more, and-

To his delight your consciousness is slowly slipping into pleasure. Good, he hums in content, switching back to the previously saliva-coated bud, - means you’ll indeed fall asleep in a bed tonight, and not crouched in your chair over the working desk.

You gasp when he grabs your legs right under your knees and forces them away from his body, spreading them and then quickly placing them on his shoulders. Oh heavens, your face heats, as you realize what this position is. Your pussy should be on full display for him right now.

It turns you on even more.

“Mmm, someone’s getting wiggly,” he chuckles, sensually kissing the insides of your thighs. “That’s my pretty girl, so excited and accepting of everything I am giving her. Why don’t you play with your tits, while I am eating this gorgeous wet pussy out, mm? I want you to toy with yourself, while my face is buried right in your heat, can you do it for me?”

“What..? I- oooh, yes, I-I can… Please.”

Shit, and here the man was trying not to get a boner pleasing you. But, he has to remind himself, your pleasure is his top priority right now.

Before you can even touch your chest, his tongue is already lapping on your wet entrance. You flush up to your ears, when Kaveh moans in your sex, kissing, and sucking, and slurping, making obscene noises with how messy he is devouring you.

“That’s it, ah, that’s my lovebird. Yeah, just take my tongue, mhm, feel like it’s filling you, mmm… You like it, right?”

"Yes-!" You grab your breasts, arching even more in his awaiting mouth, only to scream when he harshly sucks on your clit.

"Mmm, so good, so pretty…" He mumbles in your pussy, giving your bundle of nerves another suck and releasing it with a wet pop. Next he presses the tip of his tongue into it, teasing with fast strokes, making you squirm in your seat. And your thighs trying to clamp around his head - Archons, he loves your thighs. He wants more.

The slurping sounds reach your ears and go straight to your core, walls clenching around nothing, and Kaveh quickly deduces it.

"How about a finger baby, m? A finger in your tight wet cunt while I am marking these pretty thighs? Oh? Can't answer? Good."

You want to, you really do, but when one digit enters you and feels right at home, snug between your walls, words have no way to form. You can only moan and pant, as your lover kisses and sucks on the tender skin of your inner thighs, all the while mercilessly fingering you. You want to tell him you love him, you appreciate him, you want more of him, but you can only look at him with pleading eyes. And when he lifts his burning gaze and your eyes meet? You know he can read all of it behind the haze in your glazed over orbs.

"I love you too, lovebird," he murmurs, planting another kiss on your thigh, "love you so much. That's why I am making sure you are going to rest, yeah? Gotta make you cum," another finger slips inside and you have to break eye contact, throwing your head back, when he curls them against that delicious spot inside, "gotta force the stress out of your system, can't have my love so tired and worried."

"Ka… veh…" You manage through your lovely moans, and the man curses right against your swollen clit. He can't help it, when the only thought on your mind is him. Oh, how much he adores you. Maybe it's not the most logical thought to have when you are knuckles deep in your woman's cunt, tongue toying with her clit, but he suddenly returns to the thought of marrying you. Once you settle in your new position, when he says 'goodbye' to that debt of his and can purchase you the prettiest ring… To ask you the question he's been meaning to for years, but then having to put the event aside due to one financial obstacle. Yeah, that sounds so right. Something about eating his wife out to help her distress makes him lose his mind and practically suffocate himself between your thighs, crashing his head. You are so close, you must be so damn close.

"Come on, cum for me, love. Cum for me, cum, cum cum-"

"KavEH-!"

When you scream and roll your eyes back, the man takes his fingers out and stuffs you with his tongue instead. Long lashes flutter and eyelids slide close as he tongue-fucks you through your earth-crashing orgasm, feasting on your juices and inhaling such a familiar scent of your natural musk. It truly feels like it’s been so long, maybe he should take you to bed like this more often. Say, every day until you pass that stupid examination as a starter. Yeah, that's perfect.

The blond takes a breath sharply when your legs relax, no longer sandwiching his head between them and stifles a couple of coughs, having no desire to worry you with his well-being. After all it is about you, he'd hate to steal the center of attention even for a second.

Going limp, you close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. Your chest is heaving and your consciousness is slowly returning to the body. You can feel soft kisses trailing over your stomach and up to your chest, lingering on your wildly beating heart, soothing it with tender murmurs, nose nudging against the sweat-covered skin.

Kaveh is as breathless as you are, and you spend a few moments like this - pressed close, with limbs loosely wrapped around each other. You feel so contently exhausted and the warmth of your lover's body against yours provides additional comfort you've been secretly yearning for.

His palms press into the small of your back, slowly caressing, while your fingers bury in his silky locks, running through them, massaging his scalp almost absentmindedly, and Kaveh smiles in your chest, satisfied with your clearly relaxed state.

“Love?” You softly call for him, and the man hums, lifting his head to face you. Archons, the dreamy look suits you so magnificently. “Thank you. You caring for me really means a lot.”

He smiles widely, drawing his body back and carefully putting one foot on the floor, pushing his palms against the armrests and slowly getting on both feet, straightening and rolling shoulders. The legs feel a little bit stiff and he can feel numbness spreading, but he chooses to ignore it. Leaning in again instead, he places a sweet kiss on your slightly swollen lips. There is still some of your essence coating his, making a tiny flame flicker in your lower stomach.

“Of course, my lovebird,” he nudges his nose against yours, hands rubbing your shoulders to work a little on the knots you got there from your ever-sitting position. “It’s nice to see the crease between your eyebrows disappear along with the overall exhaustion practically written all over your face.”

You do not fight the smile when he says those kind words. And he is right - you feel so much better.

“So…” he muses, drawing the bathrobe up your arms and over your shoulders. “Can I take you to bed now?”

To that you chuckle, reaching your limbs to wrap around him.

“Well… Wasn’t that the initial plan?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #genshin impact smut #moonlit pearl stories

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theodora3022 · 3 years

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Good Morning, Or Good Night(Pt.3)

Summary: Night and morning series part three! This time for my favourite boys + a little gift for a friend!

Notes: These are probably even more self indulgent than others since I love them too much. Sigma and Tetchou especially, soft but strong boys are my weakness-

Next part I will cover Yosano, Higuchi and Kouyou since I recently noticed there is a lack of content for the beautiful BSD ladies around here…

Tags: @rose-tragedy I hope you like this surprise gift! I included Lovecraft for you if that’s okay! I tried my best to write him... @dragoning1 here’s sigma as you asked!

Adding a cut for the last two boys since there will be manga spoilers.

Warnings: Fluff, self indulgent content, spoilers for the manga for anyone who only seen the anime!

Edgar Allan Poe

Bedtime: Whenever you go to sleep, or he may just stay up all night reading or writing novels.

Sometimes(it happens a lot) Edgar would get too invested in a book to eat dinner or sleep, you’ll have to remind him! Make sure he stays healthy and fed :) Brew him some of his favorite tea blends to make sure he stays hydrated!

“Ah, it’s dinnertime already? Thank you my dear, I will come right after I finish this paragraph. No Karl, you cannot go first.”

His ideal way to spend the nights would include :snuggling under a blanket with you and Karl, reading books under dim candle lights near a fireplace(if it’s winter of course).

But if you insist, Edgar will come shopping with you! As long as he gets to stop by a bookstore on the way. Be prepared to drag him out of there after two hours-

Since he lives alone in canon, I imagine Edgar usually orders takeout or buy bulks of frozen dinner at a time to avoid cooking himself. If you are willing to eat these with him, that’s no problem! But if you want to cook up things yourself, Edgar would be happy to eat them. He doesn’t strike me as the picky type, so as long it’s edible he won’t complain and will just swallow. His face would lit up if it’s delicious though!

Edgar doesn’t need to “Go to work” per se, being the guild’s planner allows him to work from home, as long as the plans are available for pick up by the end of the week. So you bet him likes to sleep in. Unless you have a regular job he will want you to stay in bed with him and Karl.

If you decide to urge him to get up, however, Edgar will grumble like a little kid. He would only begrudgingly get up after thirty minutes of you lecturing the benefits of being an early riser.

Help him brush that messy hair, tie his tie in different styles, much like Ranpo he loves being taken care of. Edgar will pack a lunch for you if you have to leave for work!

Howard Phillps Lovecraft

Bedtime:...Bold of you to assume he has one. Like he won’t just fall asleep randomly on the couch or anywhere really. It would be more useful to know about his conscious schedule.

I assume you work in the Guild along with him, if they have 9-5 work days he will try to get enough sleep in the evening but no promises. (A/N: I seriously cannot find any info on this forgive me ahhh)

He doesn’t mind if you play with his hair, in fact he loves it when you buy all kinds of elastic and hairclips for them. Howard never bothered to keep it tidy himself, but it feels...quite nice. Maybe he is just too lazy to care.

Regular shopping?Like for clothes? Buy him some chocolates on your way home, he’s going to bed. If you want to go grocery shopping? Howard is putting his coat on and ready to go. He might not have much passion for other things, but when it comes to food consider him interested.

“No, we don’t have space for this much of Icecream? That’s disappointing. Maybe we just need a bigger fridge.”

Do not be surprised if you two come home with fifty boxes of ice cream of different flavours. His tencicles will help to carry them!

If work calls for early risings, you would need to get Howard out of bed and get him dressed. How he managed to keep his position in the Guild before is a mystery. Fitzgerald didn’t fire him for being late to work this much?

(A/N: An attempt was made, please don’t criticize me too harshly ahhhh)

Proceed with caution! The following section contains manga spoilers!

Suehiro Tetchou

Bedtime:10pm, but on days off he is willing to push it to 11pm.

As soldiers, Tetchou and you have to follow a healthy sleeping schedule, to preserve yourselves in best condition for any emergencies. But he cannot say no to your watery eyes when you plead on holidays. One hour is all he will compromise.

Like Tachihara, this guy loves to work out! Be his workout buddy, time his planks and count his pushups! Tetchou would even let you sit on his back while doing push ups just to get some extra weight and to hear your giggle.

While he prefers to exercise the evenings away, Tetchou is not opposed to watching some cheesy rom coms maybe twice a week. Expect him to make odd remarks to the storyline and the characters though.

“Why is her hair braided that way? Oh, it’s not important to the plot? Alright. Wait, there is a dog, and he is not important either? Then why include him at all?”

Tetchou loves cuddling, would often bury his face on the crook of your neck and tickle you with his breath and unruly hair.

An Emergency mission in the middle of the night is nothing foreign to him. But you won’t hear him if you are not needed. Tetchou knows his way of being stealthy! But if you are needed, expect him to carry you out of bed an hour before, dressing you in your uniforms and putting your hair into a quick ponytail if you are still sleepy.

He is not like the last two lazy ones, Tetchou got training to do! The mornings you two would go for a daily run in the base gym, followed by a set of stretch exercises. Then if you are lazy and would just prefer to eat in the base cafeteria, Tetchou would come along. But if you want to cook something in the little kitchen of your shared quarters, let him help with the food preparation!

Learn some reasonable dishes of his favorite color combo, and you will have a Tetchou smiling non-stop while stuffing himself. He will try to cook some regular food too, but the taste...I won’t comment on it.

Sigma

Bedtime:??? most nights you literally have to force him to go to bed at a reasonable hour!

Life as a casino manager is a busy one, with overtimes. Even with your help, Sigma would overload himself with work and get into a bit of a workaholic state often.

You cannot count how many times you had to carry him to bed at midnight. He would always apologize for bothering you, and even when you insist he is not, Sigma would still buy you something to make it up. Maybe a nice dress or another set of colorful fountain pens.

“I know I get crazy sometimes, but you and the casino is all I have, love. Please forgive me for letting you worry. Thank you for bearing with me.”

When he is actually free, or you convinced him to relax for a bit, Sigma would probably be willing to accompany you to anywhere you want. The world is still new to him, so many things to explore and try. If you take him to an amusement park he would probably scream on the rollercoasters but want to try them again!

Saying Sigma is the dictionary definition of clingy would be an understatement. Can’t blame him though, he got major abandonment issues, or separation anxiety, whichever you wish to call it. Even when he is working, you need to be somewhere in sight. It gets even harder when you two are in bed, since Sigma will not let you go to the washroom even if he is deep in the dream realm. You know he cannot control himself while sleeping, so just remember to not drink too much water before bed!

He would have the chef of the Casino restaurant to cook the meals since he does not wish to bother himself or you with these time consuming things. But if you baked some chocolate chip cookies, be ready for this man trailing after you like a needy puppy!

Part 1 for ADA

Part 2 for Port Mafia

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd headcanons #bsd fluff #bsd poe #bsd edgar allan poe #bsd lovecraft #bsd howard phillips lovecraft #bsd tecchou #bsd suehiro tetchou #bsd sigma #bsd poe x reader #bsd lovecraft x reader #bsd tetchou x reader #bsd tecchou x reader #bsd sigma x reader

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Black Jeans & Daphne Blue Still Make Me Think Of You

Jason Todd x M!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: Mentions of Torture and Death, Explicit Language

Author's Note: Daphne Blue by The Band CAMINO has been my new favorite song. Enjoy! -Thorne

He knelt in front of the guy he had tied to the chair. Poor bastard. He thought. Always gotta make things so difficult. Reaching up, he slapped him across the face a couple times.

“Oi, wakey, wakey.” The guy startled awake, immediately whimpering behind the gag. “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?” The guy groaned and he chuckled, yanking down the strip of fabric. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t know anything, Sentinel, I swear to God.”

Sentinel eyed him behind the mask. “You really wanna do this whole dance all over again?” he poked at one of the guy’s broken fingers. “You don’t have any more fingers to break. The next option is your toes.” He started to pull of the guy’s shoes.

“Wait! Wait!” he cried, trying to yank away. “Please don’t!”

“Tell me what I wanna know and your piggies can still go to the market,” he lazily retorted, letting go of his foot.

“But he’ll kill me!” he cried.

Sentinel stared at him. “I’m still wondering what makes you think I’m not gonna kill you too.” he deadpanned, pulling out a silver dagger.

The blade itself was fairly simply, not engraved or marked with extensive decorations of gold or ivory. No, frivolous things such as that were only meant for special and expensive weapons. This dagger had been created by someone with a decent amount of money. Meant to withstand against weathering and usage—it merely served a purpose.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where I can find Two-Face and I’ll kill you quickly. That’ll certainly save you a lot of pain and fear from having your boss dump you in a pool of acid,” he reasoned.

The thug choked on a sob and let his head loll back. “Alright! I’ll talk!”

“Wonderful,” Sentinel smiled. “Where’s Two-Face hiding out.”

“The old courthouse in Arkham City. It’s in the center of the city, you can’t miss it.”

“How many thugs does he have with him at all times?”

The guy’s face pinched. “I don’t know, he’s got a personal guard and the normal group too.”

“No shit,” Sentinel griped. “Numbers, jackass.”

“No more than ten for his personal, but he’s got about thirty normal.”

“Weapons?”

“Anything you can think of,” the thug answered. “Guns, knives, lead pipes, everything.”

Sentinel leaned back on his haunches, thinking for a moment. “Who’s Two-Face allied with at the moment?”

“I—” The guy’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut.

“Oh, come on, do you need me to cut off a finger?”

“No, it’s—it’s just…”

“Just what?” Sentinel demanded.

“There was supposed to be a meeting tonight about discussing new gang territories,” the thug answered.

He paused and glared at him. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“You wanted to know about Two-Face only?”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“Penguin’s Iceberg Lounge.”

“Thanks.” Sentinel quipped and thrust the knife into the thug’s throat. His gasp turned into a gurgle as crimson poured down his neck and into his shirt before he ultimately slumped forward. He yanked the dagger out and wiped it on the guy’s pants before sheathing it and standing.

“Lovely,” he grunted. “Now I have to change plans.”

“You know,” someone said from above him. “Batman’s not going to be very happy about you coming into town and killing his punching bags.”

Sentinel whirled around and looked up, catching sight of a familiar Red Hood sitting rather comfortably on a metal beam, his head tipped in a cocky fashion.

He pressed a hand to his chest and dramatized, “Oh no, it’s the Red Hood!” He shut his eyes and groaned, “I admit it, I killed him. And I’ll consent to a full body search at your perusal, Red Hood.” When he didn’t hear a reply, he cracked an eye open and huffed, “You’re no fun, Nightwing usually plays along.”

Red Hood shifted and dropped to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. “What are you doing back in Gotham, Sentinel?”

“Are you asking me because you’re curious or because Batman told you?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“So, it’s because Batman told you.” he chuckled. “Since when did you become Batman’s errand boy? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Just answer the question,” Red Hood sighed.

“Fine, fine,” Sentinel relented as he waved a hand. “Two-Face and I had a deal and he backed out of it, so now I’m trying to find him.”

The vigilante crossed his arms over his chest. “What was the deal?”

“Oh, you know, tamper with a few legal proceedings. The usual.”

“And what were you supposed to get in return?”

Sentinel scowled. “An obscene amount of money that he failed to deliver.” He started off towards the doors. “And I plan on getting what I’m owed.”

He could hear Red Hood following him. “Where are you going?”

“Our dearly deceased friend said Two-Face was attending a meeting at the Iceberg Lounge.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “If they’re discussing territory, I need to do reconnaissance in order to learn where Two-Face is gonna set back up.”

“Want some help?” Sentinel paused and turned back around, practically coming chest to chest with the much taller vigilante.

“What kind of help?” he questioned, testing the waters by toying with the zipper on Red Hood’s jacket. When the vigilante didn’t move, he tugged a little. “Your skill? Or another kindof help?”

“I’m willing to part with both,” Red Hood murmured, reaching up to hold Sentinel’s wrist. “So long as you promise not to kill Two-Face.”

He chuckled and pulled his arm away, turning to leave. “And on that note, I’ll do this on my own.”

“You’re gonna show up to the Iceberg Lounge like that?”

Sentinel turned around as he opened the door. “Of course not.” He winked. “I’m gonna go undercover.” And he was gone.

***

He smoothed the front of his black leather jacket and blue shirt as he stepped into the chilly nightclub; he was glad he actually decided to go with something warm. Lazily scanning the room, he caught sight of the full tables as well as the upper level where people were sitting and smoking expensive cigars. One particular set of doors caught his eye and upon closer inspection, he saw two armed guards standing outside, one wearing Penguin’s gang colors, the other wearing Two-Face’s.

Bingo. He thought and in order to not raise suspicion, he made his way around one of the pillars that gave him the ability to hide, but also to see the double doors as well. One of the thugs had a walkie-talkie on him and he hummed, pulling out a small device from his pocket. He played with it for a moment and when the static cleared, he grinned and raised it to his mouth.

“Aye, you still outside the office?” he asked, watching as Two-Face’s thug grabbed the radio on his thigh.

“Yeah, boss is still in there with Penguin.” He glanced at the other gang member. “Why?”

“Somebody said they saw Batman poking around the area. Go check it out.”

“But we got orders to stay put.”

He frowned. “Orders ain’t gonna mean shit if Batman gets in there and throws the boss back in GCPD, shithead. Get crackin’.”

The two thugs looked at one another then to the door before shrugging and splitting up and leaving the doors wide open. He turned his back and waited for the guard to pass him before he slipped back and walked up to the doors. Quickly, he pressed his ear to it and listened, hearing someone that sounded like Penguin talking on the inside. He smiled and slipped a small device, no bigger than a thumbtack inside the keyhole, pressing it as he pulled his hand away.

“Hey!” someone shouted behind him. He spun and was met with the two thugs, both with angry and suspicious looks on their faces. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I was looking for the restroom.”

“That ain’t it pal,” Penguin’s thug said.

“Right, sorry,” he excused, feigning an apologetic tone. “If you can point me in the direction, I’ll be out of your hair, promise.”

Two-Face’s thug tipped his head to the opposite side of the room. “Back that way.” He took a step forward and thrust the rifle into his face. “Don’t come back around here.”

He nodded resolutely. “You got it, sir.” He quickly fled before they changed their minds and disappeared into the crowd. When he was sure they no longer had eyes on him, he took a seat at the bar and pulled out an earpiece, discreetly slipping it in; he clicked the button on the outside of the piece and the conversation from inside the door flooded his ear.

“Word is that Sentinel is in town, Two-Face. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now, would you?”

“What? Afraid that he’ll visit you?”

“Hardly. But the rumor mill says that he’s looking for you. Don’t tell me you pulled out on a deal?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t do—

“Is this seat taken?”

The low drawl made him jump slightly and he looked to the side, seeing a man smirking down at him. His eyes momentarily darted to the door before going back to the man’s face.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “It’s open.”

He hummed and sat down. “Thanks. Can I get you a drink?”

He inconspicuously slipped the earpiece from his ear and dropped it into his pocket. “I don’t know. What’s going to impress you? Something fruity? Or something…hard?” he flirted, propping his chin on his palm.

The stranger chuckled. “How about both?”

Grinning, he looked at the bartender. “Sex In The Driveway, please. For both of us.” The server turned and started making their drinks, and he shifted his attention back to the man beside him. “Got a name, handsome?”

“Jason. What’s yours?”

“(Y/N),” he replied, taking a moment to ogle the man. And boy was he pretty. Sharp jawline, killer set of teal eyes, midnight black hair, and oddly enough, a white streak. He had to be ripped under that red shirt and leather jacket he wore, and (Y/N) really wanted to find out. Their drinks were set in front of them, and he reached over, taking a sip of his.

“What brings you to this dingy nightclub? Don’t tell me it’s the scenery.”

Jason grinned. “I don’t know, the scenery right now is pretty nice.” He took the straw into his mouth and sipped, then set the drink down. “Wanted to see if there was anyone I could take home for the night.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Well, aren’t you just upfront about what you want.” He winked. “I like that in a man.” Twirling the straw with his finger, he asked, “You work in Gotham?”

He shrugged. “Mostly, but my job takes me where the money is.” Jason looked at him. “I bet you know what that’s like.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m originally from Central City.”

“What’s someone from a safe place like Central doing here in Gotham?”

He hummed and turned in his seat so that he was facing Jason. “Just visiting a friend.”

“A boyfriend?” Jason wondered and (Y/N) snorted.

“Nope. No boyfriend for me.” He eyed him. “Yet…what about you? Have anybody waiting at home?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re loyal? Isn’t that a charming quality.”

“What can I say? I’m a charming guy to be around.”

(Y/N) drug his foot up the side of Jason’s calf. “Charming indeed.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but (Y/N)’s attention was drawn away by the doors in the back opening, and Two-Face stepping out, followed by Penguin. His mood soured and evidently it showed on his face because he heard,

“Are you okay?” He directed his attention back to Jason who was looking at him with a cocked brow.

“Yeah,” he answered, then pulled his foot away and stood up. “But it’s getting late, and I have to get going.”

“Going back to see your friend?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Something like that.” He paused and gazed at Jason, then asked, “Gotta pen?”

He dug around in his pocket then pulled out a black sharpie and handed it over. “Here.” (Y/N) took Jason’s hand in his own and quickly wrote a set of numbers on the back.

Jason looked at it. “This your cell?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it’s the number to my favorite Chinese joint down the street.” Grinning, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Jason’s cheek, murmuring, “I’ll be in town another couple days. Gimme a call sometime if you’d like to hangout.”

As he pulled away, he caught those teal eyes narrowed in amusement. “I definitely will, (Y/N).”

When he stepped through the exit, he sighed, knowing that he was going to have to spend hours going over the conversation in order to get a plan figured out. But hey, at least I scored a date. He thought with a grin.

***

“Have fun in lockup, Dent!” He called from the ledge as he watched the gang leader get loaded into the squad car. As they drove off, he checked his phone and smiled as the transactions followed through.

“Another night, another million,” he quipped and just as he was putting his phone away, it pinged. He looked back at it, eyes widening as he read,

So that’s what Sentinel looks like out of uniform? Black jeans and Daphne Blue? I hope you know I’m never not going to think of you when I see that combo now 😊.

(Y/N) froze and stared at his screen, millions of thoughts scrambling around his mind until he settled on, Who is this?

The little birdy you met in the lounge the other night.

He blinked and typed, Jason?

That’d be the little birdy.

How do you know who I am?

On your left, Sentinel.

He immediately looked up and his jaw went slack at the sight of Red Hood standing there, phone in his hand.

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) blurted out. His phone pinged.

Told you I was gonna call you.

Red Hood—Jason stowed his phone and walked up to him. “Wanna go get that Chinese you mentioned?”

(Y/N) gaped at him, then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, why not? I could eat.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader oneshot #jason todd x reader one shot #jason todd oneshot #jason todd one shot #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #red hood imagine #red hood imagines #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #jason todd #red hood

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

Text

Featherfall

Note: And so Fo4F begins! Prompt: Only One Bed Trope

Day: 1

Word Count: 2,877

It’s steadily approaching midnight by the time the team of Brotherhood soldiers scatter into the Dugout Inn, dragging armor and weapons behind them like dead weight. Night had crawled it’s way in after them, bringing the brisk chill of the wasteland and the scent of fresh rain into the space. Sole was practically a feral ghoul in the way they stumbled in, dead on their feet from exhaustion.

The Bobrbov brothers took one look at the pack of soldiers and immediately began taking payment for rooms and drinks. The group scattered throughout the inn, some settling into chairs with bourbon in their hands, some immediately entering the rooms and collapsing on the beds. Danse got a room key before placing a hand on Sole’s shoulder and guiding them into the hallway.

They stumbled, nearly tripping over their protective vest they were dragging beside them. Danse caught them by the arm and held on, using it to guide them through the halls and make sure they didn’t end up putting their head through one of the walls. It wasn’t the easiest to support them with one arm while shoving the key into the lock on their room door, but eventually he got the door open, and pulled them inside. “Thanks, Danse.” They sighed, sinking down onto the bed in the middle of the room.

It was then that he realized that there was simply one bed, and of course, because fate had a cruel way of laughing at him, there was no couch. Part of him screamed at the idea of sleeping on the floor after the mission they had been on, but he knew that Sole was far more exhausted than he, and probably needed the bed more. With a sigh, he said “I’ll take the floor, don’t worry.”

Sole’s eyes opened again at this. They looked around the room, slightly disoriented, before realizing what he was talking about. “Danse, I can take the floor. You need the rest.” They protested through the yawn that nearly split their jaw.

He laughed quietly. “Yeah, cause you seem to be ready to fight over this.”

They groaned and collapsed backwards onto the bed, rubbing their hands over their eyes. “Just take the bed, Danse.”

“Not going to happen, soldier, but thank you.”

“If you sleep on the floor I am too.”

Danse was quite used to these stubborn stalemates when it came to travelling with Sole; it wasn’t the first time they argued over something like taking watch shifts or who would sleep in the driest spot. This was exactly how he knew they were completely serious. With a sigh, he heaved his packs into the corner and folded his arms over his chest. “What’s the compromise?”

“Can’t we both use the bed? It’s not that small.”

Now that was new, and it successfully quieted Danse as he stood staring at them. They relaxed without a care in the world, sprawled out across the bed, still in their Brotherhood regulation fatigues. Despite being able to cover it well, it was hard to deny that he was more than worn from their travels. Exhaustion wore down at his common sense in the silence until he threw his arms up and, cursing his own stubbornness, said, “Alright, fine.”

Sole’s arms didn’t block him from seeing the smug smile that crossed their face at winning the argument. They sat up slowly, still sluggish, and unbuttoned their over jacket and tossed it across the room, knowing it would annoy Danse at the lack of neatness, and kicked off their boots. They crawled to the furthest side of the bed, still in their cargo pants and turtleneck, hair mussed in a way that only Brotherhood missions could do.

They settled quickly into the mattress, curled up with their hands folded under their head, barely halfway under the covers. “I’m staying awake until you go to sleep.” They announced.

He sighed. There goes that plan. He should’ve known. Shaking his head, Danse shrugged off his over jacket and folded it neatly, placing it on the nightstand. His boots came off methodically, unlacing them, tucking the laces into the shoes, and lining them up neatly in front of the nightstand. Then, eyeing the situation, he began easing himself into bed. They watched him and he cursed internally. It definitely was not helping his nervousness.

The blankets were far softer than realistic; he knew it was simply the weariness of sleeping on rocks for the past few days that was shifting his view. It was easy to practically collapse into the mattress, his head hitting the pillow with no resistance. He sighed. Sole shifted next to him, snuggling further into the bed, and finally closed their eyes.

It was hard for Danse to try to shut off the wary, alert part of his brain to sleep somewhere strange, despite the dizzying tiredness that coursed through him. After a pause he glanced towards Sole again. Their breathing was even and steady and he had to suppress a smile at the peacefulness that had taken over their face; their stubbornness was ridiculous but it couldn’t outlast their need for sleep. He sat up again and brought the blankets over their body, not wanting them to wake up cold. Their need for rest was too important.

Eventually, he forced himself to lay back down despite his hesitation, and close his eyes. The clock in the room sang the time ticking by that he had left to get some peace, practically mocking in the way it announced that he was steadily losing minutes. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and rolled over to face Sole. Sue him, it was easier to sleep knowing someone had his back, especially since they were one of the people he trusted most in the Brotherhood. Knowing they would wake, probably faster than he would, if something happened was the final push for him to close his eyes and drift off.

When Sole awoke their arm was beyond numb. This wasn’t as unusual as they would’ve liked it to be, but it still caused them to stir awake in confusion. A deep breath caused the familiar smell of Brotherhood issue detergent to assault their senses, further waking them. Eventually, they forced themself to open their eyes and face the morning.

Just in front of them was a dead-asleep Paladin, a sight less familiar than one would assume. Danse insisted on sleeping after and waking before they did. They suspected it was a fear of being vulnerable out in the wasteland hidden amongst his excuses of them needing sleep more than he did. They embraced the moment and let their gaze roam his features.

Danse looked much younger when he was asleep, the worries melted off his frame, relaxed and far away from the waking-nightmares the wasteland so freely provided. Sometime during the night he had gripped their hand, his fingers entwined with theirs, the other hand resting under their forearm as if he were trying to keep hold of them for reassurance. They guessed he wasn’t so lucky with nightmares after all. They cursed at the way they practically melted at the gesture of seeking them out, though, and stretched their legs.

A couple of glances around the room located the clock and they discovered they were thirty minutes ahead of schedule, awake before Danse would even have to go rouse the others. Half of them hated the loss of sleep, the other half grateful that they had some peace and quiet and time to wake up. Mindlessly, they readjusted their grip on Danse’s hand, and found themself curling up closer, trying to find warmth amongst the thin, scratchy blankets.

He shifted in his sleep at the movement, eyebrows furrowed in subconscious concern. Sole found themself desperate to smooth out the worry in his features, not ready to let go of this new side of him they’d discovered. It was plain to see that he spent most of his time sternly looking at the Wasteland through a lens of doubt and suspicion, and Sole had gotten used to that, so this new expression was something to keep close for as long as they could.

Carefully, they reached over, and traced their fingertips over the skin between his brows, following the shape up and around to his temples, then his cheekbones, and across his jawline. The motion seemed to reassure him, and his features relaxed again as he sank deeper into sleep. Sole smiled to themself, brushing against the softness of his hair before pulling their hand back and looking up at the ceiling.

It was speckled with age, water damage, and something that looked suspiciously like blood. Unsurprising. Restlessness settled into their bones and they found themself wanting to do something for Danse; it was rare they could catch him off guard, and they found themself wanting to show thanks for getting them all through the hell of a mission the past few days.

Carefully, moving at a snail's pace, Sole peeled back the blankets from their aching body, and scooted their way down the mattress. Danse shifted restlessly as they tried to stand up and they paused, eyes widened in panic as they stared at him, fingers crossed that he wouldn’t wake. Eventually, he relaxed again. Sole stood as slowly as they could so as to not wake him, their muscles screaming in protest at the effort.

It wasn’t hard to make it out of the room, their socked feet making them quiet as a mouse, their boots dangling in their grip as they held them by their laces. They tensed and glared at the ceiling when the door creaked as it opened. Noting to let the brothers know they needed to grease their doors, they shut the door softly behind them and made their way out into the inn.

It was silent other than Vadim wiping down the bar and the soft playing of Diamond City radio. He looked up and grinned when they moved into his line of sight and they sent him back a grateful smile before sitting down at the bar and tugging their boots on, tying the laces roughly. “Where to, Soldier?” Vadim asked, teasingly.

Sole had made quite the name for themself in Diamond City, even before finding Danse’s party and joining the Brotherhood. They’d brought back Valentine, of course, and amongst other little jobs they’d completed in the town and just being around long enough, they’d become friends with almost everyone there. Including the Bobrov brothers. “I’m headed to get some supplies from Percy. Mind if I borrow your kitchen? I figured our fearless leader could use a good breakfast.” They asked.

“Ah, I wasn’t aware the Brotherhood included free breakfast in bed. I might have to sign up! You’re more than welcome to use the kitchen, though.”

Sole rolled their eyes playfully. “Sorry, Vadim. That’s only included with the Paladin promotion, but thank you.”

He laughed and waved them off, motioning for them to go on their way. They gave him a cheeky wave and slid back off the barstool, boots clacking against the wood floors as they made their way out of the small Inn. The morning air hit them with a fresh chill, the smell of cooking meat making it’s way down the alley from Choice Chops, and the tang of radiation from a recent rad storm stinging their nose.

With a soft breath into their palms to warm their skin, they made their way down the path to Diamond City Surplus. Their breath fanned out in front of them in quick puffs of fog, their boots crunching against the almost-frozen ground. The journey was short and they greeted Percy softly. They bought a Mirelurk egg and Razorgrain bread and stopped by Choice Chops for some thinly sliced Radstag.

The journey back was chilly and Sole felt a shiver run through them when they stepped in the abruptly warmed environment of the Inn. Vadim was nowhere to be seen, probably off taking a break from tending the Inn while it was empty. They headed straight for the kitchen, ready to get to work. Sole had about twenty minutes to get everything made before they had to go wake up the other members of their party.

Breakfast was whipped up shortly and without fuss; Sole still enjoyed cooking, even after the war had taken most of the ingredients they knew from them. One of their favorite things was reimagining pre-war dishes and figuring out how to make the new world of food work for them. After some quick work, breakfast for Danse was whipped up with five minutes to spare.

They headed back to the room as quietly as possible, taking careful steps to make sure their boots didn’t echo in the hall. It was quite the balancing act, holding his breakfast while they attempted to ease the door open without it creaking, but they accomplished it somehow, and quickly shut it behind them.

Danse seemed to still be fast asleep in bed, his forearm resting over his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. Sole eased their boots off as carefully as they could to avoid making anymore noise and debated quietly to themself how best to wake him up. Some Brotherhood members had a mean arm on them and quite the reflexes from growing up in the Commonwealth, and they sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Danse’s reflexes. “Somethin’ on your mind, Soldier?” Danse’s voiced broke the silence, rough and rumbling from just waking up.

Sole jumped with a quiet yelp and nearly fumbled the plate of food, swearing as they stumbled forward and stubbed their toe on the dresser. With a wince they turned, limping slightly, and shot him a fake dirty look. “I made you breakfast and this is how you treat me? Harsh, Paladin.” Their tone was disappointed.

He moved his arm and sat up slightly to look at them, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “You… made me breakfast?”

“Yeah. And you made me stub my toe. Not exactly the fairest of trades, if I do say so myself.”

They sighed dramatically and set the food down on the nightstand beside him before turning their attention back to him. He was looking between them and the plate, his mouth open slightly. “I’ll give you time to wake up. I can go wake the rest of the group, now. Eat.” They gestured to the plate before exiting the room again, closing the door and pausing to take in a breath.

The stumped expression he had was borderline delightful for Sole. It wasn’t often they caught the Paladin off guard, and they felt accomplished whenever they could manage to surprise him. He seemed pleased, despite the initial confusion and alarm on his face. They shuffled through the halls and rapped their fists hard on the doors they knew housed Brotherhood soldiers.

After every door they paused and waited for a shout that indicated the members were awake before moving forward. It didn’t take too long before all of the members began emerging from their rooms, albeit reluctantly, and collapsed into the various seating at the center of the Inn. A few confused looks were shot Sole’s way as to where Danse was, but no one tried asking questions, knowing they probably wouldn’t get very far.

Soon after, they returned to their room to begin packing their own stuff. Danse was now fully dressed and stood by his backpack, rummaging through it with his back to the door, plate on the nightstand now empty. Sole resisted the pleased smugness that flooded them. “Good breakfast?” They asked.

Danse didn’t jump, likely hearing their footsteps in the hall and expecting their presence. He continued to rummage through his bag for a moment before turning around. “Uh, yeah. It was good. Thanks, Sole.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wow, I get the privilege of being called Sole this morning? Must’ve outdone myself with a damn good breakfast.” They teased, adjusting the straps on their backpack before heaving it over their shoulders.

He laughed awkwardly, but paused to look at them for a moment. Sole quirked an eyebrow, silently asking what was up. “Seriously, thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”

The warm smile that filled their face was less teasing and more genuine, unrestrained happiness at the fact that he was dropping the boss-man persona for a little. They nodded, “Anytime, Danse. It’s about time you get thanks for not just being a great Paladin, but a great friend.”

His face flushed softly at that as he picked up his backpack and scanned the room one more time to make sure they weren’t leaving anything behind. As he passed them he clapped their shoulder encouragingly and paused, opening his mouth to say something. After a moment of Sole watching him expectantly he shut his mouth and shook his head, more to himself than anything, his hand still resting on their shoulder. He gave it a small squeeze, “Thank you.” He repeated quietly before he kept moving. “Pack up!” The much sterner, yet more familiar version of his voice echoed through the Inn to the other members.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4F #Only one bed #Paladin Danse #fluff #friends to flirting

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jungcity · 4 years

Text

bane of the devil. | i

genre: vampire!jaehyun [ mature | angst | smut ]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“father, i dreamt about a boy

his hands, bloodied

eyes like the shot of dawn

with the rebellion in his mouth

he tried to conquer

the moon

with the venom of his prayers

he tried to

search for a god

pray tell me father,

how do i love him

with no flesh, all blood

heaven help us,

how could he love me

if i am the sun?”

— jungcity, bane of the devil // i

Raindrops danced in the air as they fall from the clouds with the squalling winds intensifying the impact of it against the glass window panes. The murmurs and complaints filled the whole room, your classmates begging your professor to turn off the air conditioner. Your mechanical pencil lay forgotten above your table as you stare at the horizon from your seat beside the window. Oh, how you longed for your bed in this cozy weather.

Seven a.m. to seven p.m. class should be classified as a mortal sin— you could not, in the life of you, understand that type of abomination. It is cruel beyond reckoning. Especially when you sit on a room of thirty people, doing nothing as the heavy drops of rain and the cool atmosphere it provides slowly lulls you to slumber.

The only thing that prevented you from doing so was the loud slap of your professor’s hands on table, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. “Alright! Stop chattering!” He yelled as he raised a piece of paper in the air.

You slumped back in your seat. Here we go again. Every time your professors raise their hands while holding papers, you could not help but release a groan.

“Here is the plan for your next plate,” he started. “Photocopy it, take a picture of it, it’s up to you.” He then handed the papers to the student in front. You stared as your classmate’s face crumpled into a grimace while he skimmed the document. That— without a doubt— would also be your face once you get a hold of the plan.

“Just like the last time, bind your A3 papers with two fasteners. There must be a separate sheet for the front page. And please,” the professor exhaled, “Please don’t forget your names! How would I give you a failing grade if I don’t know who you are.” The groans rose up again from the students, your own commixing with the chaos of curses and prayers and the laugh of your professor.

“Hey, hey! Haechan!” You grabbed your friend’s shirt as he scurried off to your classmate in the front row. “Take a picture and send it to the group chat.”

He snatched his shirt away from your grasp while glaring at you, “I know! I know! Wait here.” Then he pulled out his phone, waving it onto your face before dashing to your classmate who has the plan.

You fished for your own phone inside your bag when a boy sat in front of you. He rested his arm on your table and propped his chin on his palm. “Damn, I’m surely gonna die before this semester ends.” Mark groaned, his eyes looking at your table.

You chuckled from your seat, “Three major plates to go, buddy.”

“I’m gonna sell my soul to Satan so I don’t have to do any of this bullcrap.” Haechan threw his phone on to the table. Luckily, you caught it before it slid down and shattered on the hard floors. He let out an infuriated sigh before grabbing one of the chairs and sitting on it beside your table.

“It’s that bad?” Mark grimaced as he pressed the power button of Haechan’s phone. The light of the screen illuminated his soft features in an instant, “Wow. Your phone’s brightness could blind a person,” Mark stated while blinking rapidly.

Haechan said nothing as he leaned his head on your table. You peek at the phone yourself, Mark slowing down his scrolling as you leaned closer.

“Five-storey residential? What?!” You exclaimed. Tons of plates are slowly piling up to you bedroom. Your drafting table could not even hold them anymore, they are littered all over the mattress and the whole place. As your eyes scrutinized the image of the plan, Mark let out a curse as he read the requirements of the residential building.

“Oh, no. The measurements are given,” Mark exchanged glances with you. “I won’t do this shit.” Then the phone toppled over the table again after Mark threw it. Haechan snatched his phone back with a special glare meant only for Mark before laying his head back on the table.

The rain continued to ravage the roof and the ground as the three of you rested your heads on your desk. Chatters and the shuffling of drafting materials once again dominated the whole room, with a few of your classmates cursing at the back as they play their online games.

“I had at least thirty-minutes of sleep today,” you declared. Your eyes feels heavy and your body seemed to be softening and turning into jelly by the sleep deprivation.

“Wow. I didn’t even have a blink of sleep myself.” Haechan mumbled, face still covered by his arms.

After your heavy nap, the three of you woke up with red-rimmed eyes. If you could continue sleeping in your room until tomorrow, you would. But of course, that is not possible.

Your classmates started to pack their things as the professor came back and dismissed the whole class. It has always been like that; your prof giving yet another plan and then dismissing the whole class two or three hours earlier than the scheduled time. You would have not attended today’s class if not for the other plates that needed to be submitted.

Despite the sullenness of your house because of your brother’s absence, you still wanted to go home and nap. It does not matter if you have mountains of plates to do, what truly matters is you, going home to the tranquility and safety of your house before midnight. It was a habit you’ve grown accustomed to since the untimely death of your parents.

Your path goes different ways from Mark and Haechan. That’s why you sat alone in the bus as they stand in the waiting shed while waiting for theirs. Both of them waved at you, mouthing the words ‘take care’. You answered them with a slight wave of your hand before putting on your earbuds.

The rain has calmed down already, leaving the stores drenched, the highway splotched with circles of rainwater. Yet the lightning still dominated the skies, white lights flashing like roots reflected in your irises as you stare at the bleakness of the heavens through the bus’ windows. The speed of the vehicle made everything blurry; from the blustery wind slapping against the trees to the lights from different stores. They filled your sight as the music continued to blast in your ear.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, stopping the music. You glanced at the screen and saw your brother’s caller ID. Johnny. Automatically, your brow shot up to your forehead. He has been away for two weeks now, doing God only knows what on the other side of the ocean. Of course, your big brother calls every night to check up on you. But tonight, he called earlier than usual.

You attempted to slide the green button when your cell phone flew away from your grasp, your head hitting the seat in front of you, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Loud protestations echoed from the students and elders alike, their own faces bedraggled as they recover themselves from the impact of the bus drawing to a halt.

“What happened?” An elderly woman asked, her hand on the middle of her chest while breathing heavily.

“There’s a person who crossed the road.” The conductor explained, but his words sounded unsure.

The woman’s eyes widened, “Is the person alright?” She stood up from her seat, one hand grabbing the railings in front of her.

“That’s what we’re confused about, Ma’am. The person is nowhere on the asphalt. He ran with a dashing speed… it’s impossible.” You didn’t know if it was amazement or fear that was laced with the conductor’s voice, but his statement caught your attention nonetheless.

The nagging curiosity inside your chest spreads like wild fire. If ever your intuition is right, you have to find that person or whatever that is. A speed like that could only be achieved by one creature. Your brother might call you a freak or a delusional little girl again, but it might be the only way to get answers. Answers that he did not bother to find when your parents died.

The truth is, years ago, your parents had their inopportune death. But the authorities has not yet to find the murderer. How could they? When there was no DNA in the crime scene but your parents’. How could they? If the murderer was not even a person to begin with.

Deep in your heart, you know. You know the world is enfolded with mysteries that a human mind would not be able to perceive. Cloak-and-dagger as it is, you understood that reality the moment you saw the two dots that were obviously from a penetration of fangs embedded in your parents’ necks.

‘Vampire! Vampire!’ was your unending scream at the morgue. Since you were only a little girl back then, no one paid attention to you. Not the policemen, not even your brother.

It did not surprise you when everyone called it a hopeless case. In their eyes, it was. But in yours, it’s not. Ever since your parents were murdered, you have been drinking the myths and lore of vampires. Day and night you devoured books, watched vampire sightings, studied their strengths as well as their weaknesses. It simply was a thirst you could not quench.

It was like that until you started college. You could not simply search for a free time to indulge yourself about those undead, blood-sucking creatures any longer. But every articles, every information, were still plastered to a blackboard inside your bedroom. A reminder of what you have been sleuthing for all your life.

Yellow lights illuminated the pool of waters on the asphalt road. You tiptoed as to prevent your shoes from getting soaked. Plastics, styrofoams, as well as vegetables skins from the uncollected drenched trash bins littered all over the street.

At long last, the shadow of your apartment appeared. Darkness invaded the vicinity, a quiet reminder that there isn’t any person present inside. You pulled out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, ten missed calls from Johnny were displayed in the notifications. Frustrated from what happened inside the bus, you continued to ignore his calls earlier, despite your phone vibrating continuously.

Your phone’s flashlight casted a white light upon the dimness. Keys in your left hand, and your phone in your right, you struggled to jam the keys into the hole. When the gates finally opened, you sent Johnny a text that says you’re already home.

“At long fucking last.”

Your phone went flying to the grass yet again as you saw a figure looming in the shadows. A silent curse slid past your lips as you hurriedly picked it up, dead and wet grass sticking onto the screen. Once again, you pressed the flashlight button to see through the darkness.

And there, in the corner near the door, a man with a bloodied face stares at you with a cigar in between his lips. Spontaneously, your heart thudded frantically in your chest. You wanted to shout, but the scream bubbled out in your mouth and then nothing came out.

“Who are you?” You managed to ask.

The man didn’t answer. He pulled something out of his pockets. You took a step back. Only when he struggled to light his cigarette you realized it was only a lighter. His hands continued to shake, and you have no idea why haven’t you screamed for help yet. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, you do not doubt the saying as your curiosity ascended your fear.

“Care to light this for me, kitten?” He stretched out his hand to offer you the lighter. His endearment catching you like a deer in the headlights.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? All bloodied?”

The man sighed and started to light his cigar again. “The name’s Jaehyun. I’m friends with your brother, Johnny.” He offered you the lighter once more, “Now, will you light this up for me? As you can see, I’m shaking and bleeding.”

After his last word, you glanced up and down his body, the light of your phone following your action. And then you saw as blood poured out from a wound on his side. You hadn’t noticed it earlier because of his black shirt.

“What— I don’t— are you alright?” What stupid, stupid question. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Is this why your brother were so eager to call you? Because apparently, his friend stands bloodied in front of your doorstep.

“I feel like shit but I’m alright.” Smoke puffed out of his lips as he succeeded in lighting his cigarette after numerous attempts. “Won’t you open the door?” He nudged his head to the direction of the door. You blinked and felt the keys in your palms again.

“Tell me what’s happening first.”

It’s cruel, but if he manages to stay alive while blood gushes out of his stomach, you believed he could concisely explain to you what’s going on.

“Women are so fucking difficult,” he mumbled. “I will tell you everything once we’re inside and you’re stitching up my goddamned wound.”

“What?!” It was a scream more than a word. “Listen, I don’t know how to stitch up—”

He cut you off, “Well that’s a pity.” Then he threw away the bud of the cigarette to the ground. “Listen, I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” then he licked his lips, “Better open this door so we could get to business.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything to me.” It’s childish and you feel pathetic, but you said it anyways. Perhaps this man in front of you has a bottle of conscience in his system despite his unkempt look.

Jaehyun only looked at you, face impassive. “You’re not my type.”

You choked on your own saliva. “You’re unbelievable.” You ignored his smirk as you sauntered up to the door. Both of you were enveloped in a silence, the only noise coming from the keys jamming into the keyhole.

Another darkness greeted you as you opened the door, you searched for the switch with your sweaty hand. The metal tang the keys left on your palm wafted your nose, making you feel gross and dirty.

You wrenched the keys out of the hole as the light finally infiltrated the living room. Your brow shot up when Jaehyun made no move to enter the house.

“Invite me first,” he stated.

If you could raise your brow higher, you would. His question was unexpected for someone itching to enter your house mere minutes earlier.

“Come… in?” You reluctantly offered.

There was mischief and bad news in his eyes as he stepped inside the house. “So the authorities would say that you invited me willingly.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” You demanded, gripping the doorknob tightly.

He only winked at you. But you are not having any of it. It was a bad idea inviting this stranger inside.

“Get out.” You ordered. Jaehyun attempted to say something but you repeated the words with enough ferocity. “Get out!”

He held up his hand, his right pulling out something from his pockets again. A paper.

“Here.”

You stared at the paper for a good two minutes before you snatched it away from his hand.

This is to certify that the apartment owned by Johnny and Y/N Y/L/N has been sold and therefore owned by Mr. Jung Jaehyun.

No. No, no, no. The paper must be a trick. It’s probably a forged paper made by this man in front of you to take his advantage and trick you.

“This is forged.” You balled the paper and threw it his way. Jaehyun picked it up with bloodied fingers. His shirt was now saturated with his blood. But you could not bring yourself to care now that he poses a threat to your safety.

“Forged? Do you not recognize the lawyer who signed this paper?” He started to flatten out the paper again. “The best in town. You could go to his office right now to inquire about this. But I won’t waste money if I were you.”

For the second time that night, you snatched away the paper from him. It was completely crumpled, but the texts printed out were still glaring at you. You skimmed the printed letters with your head spinning, eyes only stopping when you see three signatures below. One for your brother, one for Jaehyun, one for the attorney. It was signed by a pen, that much you’re sure of. Being an architecture student familiarized you to different type of pens. You’re certain they had used a ballpoint pen to sign the contract.

Still, you went dumbfounded as you let the realization hit you. Your brother, Johnny, just sold your apartment for this blood soaked guy in front of you.

“Since when?” You asked through gritted teeth, not looking up from the papers.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, his hand clamping his wound. “Since last week.”

“Will you…” You sighed, it was so difficult to get the words come out, “… will you let me stay the night? I promise I’ll go first thing in the morning.” Your hand which is holding the paper shook. Mixed feelings of anger, shame, and confusion swirled in your head.

Jaehyun waved his hand before sitting on the sofa, his bloodied hands imprinting the arms of it red. You bit back the anger as you realized that you have no rights to be angry.

“You could stay the night, of course.” He reclined his head, “But stitch me up first before you go packing.”

How had he managed to stay alive with the loss of too much blood, you have no idea. But you shook your head and declined him again, “I don’t know how. You might get an infection.”

“Needle… I need a needle,” He breathed and shut his eyes, you panicked as you thought he passed out already. But then he opened his one eye and fixed it to you, “I’ll do it myself.”

“Why don’t we just go to the hospital?”

It was embarrassing that you only thought of the idea now. But Jaehyun only snorted, “Trust me, that’s the last resort you’d think of if you truly knew me.”

There is no point talking to him. His mouth pours metaphors you could not be bothered to comprehend. So you trudged the distance to the small drawer laying just below the television and grabbed the sewing kit inside.

You laid it on the table. Jaehyun groaned before grabbing the needle and the thread. He does not look pained. He looks more tired. And only when you were sitting beside him you noticed how pale he appeared to be. His lips looked wan, his face pallid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hos—”

“No,” was his monosyllabic reply. You didn’t press any further.

Jaehyun started to insert the thread through the needle, but like his dreaded attempts to lit his cigarette earlier, his aim to get the thread through the little hole went in complete vain. “Fuck,” he muttered as the pin dropped on the floors.

“Let me.” You finally offered before picking up the needle and seizing the thread from his grasp. With your one eye shut close, you dampened the needle with your tongue before thrusting it through the hole. In a blink, you succeeded.

“Here—” You were cut off once again when Jaehyun’s body fell back on the sofa. His eyes closed. The nervous and shock kicked in your stomach as you leaned closer to him but felt nothing in his chest. He doesn’t look like he is breathing, too.

“Oh my God, don’t fucking die.” You repeated the words as you grabbed your phone and dialed nine-one-one. Sweats started to form in your forehead, your own heart beating in a panic-stricken rhythm.

The ringing stopped, and the voice of the person from the other side greeted you calmly.

“I— there’s— I—” Your words are incoherent from the panic that is vibrating from your head to your toes. The person tried to calm you down but to no avail. You inhaled and exhaled, mind blank. “I—” Then a hand grabbed your wrist. You jumped in your seat, only to see Jaehyun, wide-eyed looking at you.

“I told you, no doctors.”

“But— how— what?” How is he alive?

“I am fine. Just really need to stitch this up so I could recover easily.” Then his eyes started to lose their life again.

“Don’t! Don’t sleep! Stay awake!” You screamed at him. Jaehyun began to lose consciousness again. The forgotten thread and needle was back on your hands in an instant. Loud sets of profanities reverberated from your mouth as you lifted his shirt. You exhaled as you saw the long laceration starting from beside his navel to his waist.

“I can’t do this alone, I just can’t.” You swallowed, praying that his innards won’t slide out of his stomach. Where did he get this wound?

“You have no other choice, have you?” He whispered, voice straining. “Just close it and stitch it. I won’t scream,” he expressed.

“That’s not my problem! What if.. what if I’ll make it worse?”

“You won’t.” Jaehyun looked at you with hooded eyes.

This is not what you’ve expected to come home to. The schedule was to go home, eat, shower, and start your plates. Stitching up a long god-forsaken wound wasn’t on your to-do list.

You closed your eyes, trying to inhale and exhale. When you felt like your mind was clear of worries, you finally opened your eyes and started to hold Jaehyun’s skin. The tang of blood filled the whole room, your fingers sliding as it touched his bloodied skin. You let out a breath before clamping the open wound with your fingers, your other hand working its way to pierce the needle into his skin.

Goosebumps ran down your spine as you felt the needle pierced his flesh. White thread came out red as you pulled it to fasten his skin back together. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you pushed on with your work. With each pierce and puncture, your tension and the shaking of your hands lessened.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jaehyun when you were finally in the middle of the wound. He did not utter a word ever since you started; not a protest nor a painful scream.

“Yes… it does not hurt.” His voice came out as a whisper that you doubted his answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If I am in your position right now, I would’ve screamed like hell. Imagine, we didn’t use any anesthesia, but you still managed to look comfortable and calm,” you mumbled, trying to keep Jaehyun awake.

“Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” A small chuckle resonated from your throat then. Jaehyun popped an eye open, and you waited for some dramatic lines like ‘I’m used to the pain’ to escape his lips, but his answer drew you to a sudden halt instead.

“Because I am a vampire.”

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#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct fic #nct scenarios #nct 127 au #nct smut

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blurry-fics · 4 years

Text

Hard Feelings

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Profanity, small anxiety attack, angst

Word Count: 4245

Request: josh and bed sharing 😭😔💕✌🏻 -@panickedbrain

Author’s Note: Hopefully this super long fic makes up for my sporadic posting schedule! I hope you enjoy it :) (picture credit)

“Here, let me get that for you,” Tyler said, grabbing your duffle bag from where it had been crammed into the backseat.

Shortly after waking up drenched in sweat, you had received an email from your apartment building that the air conditioning had stopped working overnight and was in the process of being repaired. That part had been manageable, even if it meant sitting on the couch in an oversized t-shirt directly in front of a fan on full blast, but by the time lunch rolled around, a second email had come through saying the issue was much bigger. The estimated time until it would be fixed?

Three days.

You had called Tyler immediately, asking if you could crash on his and Josh’s couch until the issue was fixed. After ten minutes, and what you assumed had been a household meeting, you got the confirmation that you would have a nice, air conditioned place to stay until your own building was back up and running. Half an hour later, you were speeding down the highway towards Josh and Tyler’s house on the edge of Columbus, a duffle bag full of your essentials tossed into the backseat.

“Thanks,” you said, slamming the trunk closed after him and hitting the lock button until the car beeped. “And thank you again for letting me crash here until my building is fixed. I don’t think I would have lasted another hour in that heat.”

“It’ll be nice to have you around.”

“I doubt Josh shares that sentiment,” you snorted. Ever since you and Josh had met, there had always been a sort of rivalry between you two: he teased you about not going on enough dates while you teased him about going on too many. This, of course, was only an elaborate coverup for how you truly felt about him.

“You’d be surprised, he actually seemed pretty excited to have you around.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’ve known him for three years, of course I’m sure.”

You followed him into the house, instantly reveling in the feel of cool air washing over your body. Tyler, not even slightly phased by your reaction, continued to walk straight into the living room and dropped your stuff onto an unoccupied chair in the corner. This, you assumed, would be your closet for the indefinite future.

“Where’s Josh?” you asked, realizing that you had been inside the house for more than thirty seconds without hearing a sarcastic remark.

“Out on a run. He should be home soon.”

“In this heat?” You looked out the window, as if to confirm that the sun was still, indeed, shining.

“I don’t claim to understand his actions,” Tyler said, holding his hands up in defeat. “Want anything to drink?”

“I’m ok, but thanks.”

You finally sat down and kicked your feet up on the coffee table, allowing yourself the first moment of true relaxation since you had received the email from your building earlier that morning. Tyler continued on into the kitchen. The sound of cupboards being closed and cups clinking together filled the once-quiet house.

You were about to ask Tyler about a recent date that he had been on when the front door swung open, letting in a gust of warm air. The conversation was immediately forgotten as Josh stepped through the door, his chest still heaving beneath his sweat-stained top. Strands of hair were pressed to his forehead, but he quickly ran his hands through them and pushed them back, making a mess of curls on his head. He started to look your way, so you quickly averted your eyes. The magazine on the table sure was interesting, huh?

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. You could detect his shortness of breath in the way he was talking.

“Hi,” you said, shooting him a smile as if this were the first time you had laid eyes on him. “Have a nice run?”

“It could have been better.”

He bent down to untie his shoes. His shirt - which really should have been considered a tank top, considering how much of the sides he had cut away - fell forward, revealing his sweaty chest underneath. You only stared for a moment before ripping your eyes away, already feeling your cheeks get hot. It just so happened that this was the moment that Tyler walked into the room. He caught your eye and wiggled his eyebrows, which earned him an eye roll.

“You know you want him,” he mouthed.

“Shut up,” you mouthed back.

Josh finally stood up and stretched. Though it was tempting to glance at him, you kept your eyes fixated on the posters hanging on the wall. Tyler already had too much ammo to tease you with as it was.

You were relieved when Josh finally went upstairs and you no longer had to overthink every glance in his direction. Tyler collapsed down onto the couch next to you and took a long sip of his drink before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Should I even say it?” he asked.

“It wouldn’t work, Tyler.”

“How do you know? Have you dated him before?”

The shower started to run upstairs.

“I don’t need to date him to know.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but that’s a little ridiculous.”

You turned to look at Tyler, letting your head roll back so that it was rested on the cushions. He took a sip of his drink and raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“It’s not! All it takes is one glance at us to know that we’re complete opposites, and we’re always poking fun at one another about it. He’s outgoing, confident, charming, willing to take risks… we really couldn’t be more different.”

“Haven’t you heard that opposites attract?”

“Haven’t you heard that’s bullshit?” you scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Josh always flirts with shy people because he thinks it’s cute.”

“Well he’s never flirted with me, so that must mean that he doesn’t think I’m cute.”

“Now that’s bullshit if I ever heard it,” Tyler snorted.

“Name one time Josh has ever flirted with me.”

“Are you kidding? You two were all over one another at the arcade the other night.”

“I was trying to beat him at skeeball!” Tyler shot you a look. “What?”

“All I’m going to say is that he wasn’t having a skeeball competition with anybody else.”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever, Ty.”

“Come on, Y/N, will you at least give it a shot? One date?”

“I’m not putting our friendship at risk for the sake of one date that wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Tyler sighed loudly. “One,” he said, dramatically holding up his pointer finger, “one date is not enough to ruin a friendship if the friendship is strong enough. And two,” his middle finger flicked up to join the first, “one date is enough to tell you everything. How many times have you called me after a first date to tell me about how it wasn’t going to work out?”

You crossed your arms across your chest. Tyler was right and you both knew it.

“I’ll try, alright? But I’m going to take it at my own pace. And I don’t want there to be any meddling.”

“No promises,” Tyler grinned - a pit formed in your stomach - and leaned over to bump your shoulder with his own.

Before you had a chance to plead with Tyler not to get into the middle of it all, Josh came back downstairs. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a loose tank top, though it wasn’t as revealing as the one he had worn on his run. His hair, no longer sweaty, was still soaking wet and falling in loose curls around his face. Water dripped from them, running down his collarbone until they hit the hem of his tank top. Tyler gently reached over and pressed on your chin so that your mouth was no longer hanging open.

“What did I miss?” Josh said, grabbing the neck of his tank top and using it to wipe away a stray droplet of water.

“Not much,” Tyler chimed in before you had a chance to. “We were just talking.”

“Were you dying of boredom without my presence?” Josh grinned.

“You wish,” you scoffed. Tyler shot you a look, clearly unamused by your sarcastic remark in place of flirting. You shot him an apologetic smile when Josh wasn’t looking.

“So, Y/N, Tyler said you’re going to be staying with us for a few days,” Josh said. He slowly made his way into the living room and lowered himself onto a chair, obviously still feeling the effects of his morning run. His legs stretched out, making his shorts slip just a little bit further up his thighs. The hangnail on your thumb suddenly became very interesting.

“Unfortunately,” you said, looking up for just a second to meet his eyes.

“Oh, come on, am I that bad?” he stuck out his lower lip. You chewed on your own to hide the smile threatening to overtake your face.

Distracting was a better word.

“Tolerable,” was the one that left your mouth, however. “Most of the time.”

“You know,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat, “I’ll take it.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” Tyler sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

Josh answered, “Three days-”

“-give or take-” you chimed in, wincing a little as you pulled on the hangnail too hard.

“-of fun.”

“Fun,” he nodded. “Right.”

“Alright, I’m back,” Tyler said, gently sitting back down on the couch and resting his cup of water against his legs. “Everyone ready?”

You and Josh answered with mumbled agreement. After a busy afternoon of reading and writing music - ok maybe your afternoon wasn’t that busy - the three of you had settled in the living room to watch the latest Netflix series together. The plan had been to only watch a few episodes and then go on a late night drive together, but it ended up sucking all of you in. Now, half past midnight, you were all still lounging in the living room watching the fifth episode of the series.

“This is the last episode for me, though,” you said. “I need to sleep at some point.”

“Good plan,” Josh nodded.

You turned to smile at him - the two of you had been getting along really well all night and you were beginning to think you might be able to follow Tyler’s suggestion after all - but your eyes went directly to his phone. His fingers were flying across the screen as he typed out a message to someone whose name you couldn’t quite make out. It only took one winky face emoji for you to figure out the nature of the message he was sending.

Maybe you didn’t even need one date to tell you everything.

Josh slipped his phone back into his pocket and you pushed yourself a little further into the couch, stretching your legs just enough that you could jam your toes into Tyler, a form of subtle punishment for getting your hopes up. He playfully pushed them away and you relented, not wanting to make him genuinely angry. He had only been trying to help, and it’s not like he had any control over Josh’s dating app habits.

You tried to get comfortable and pay attention to the show, but thoughts about Josh kept creeping back into your mind. It didn’t help that the fan in the corner of the room kept carrying the scent of his shampoo towards you. It was clean and nice and reminded you of mornings on tour when Josh would join you at the table to eat his cereal and ask you how you slept and tease you when you would tell him he was in your dream. Because that’s what you did: you teased one another and poked fun at your dating habits and most definitely didn’t flirt.

You pulled your sweatshirt up over your nose so that the only thing you could smell was your laundry detergent and the musty smell of your apartment that lingered on everything you wore. Now was not the time to have a crisis about your relationship with Josh and overthink every little interaction you had ever shared.

Thankfully, the show started to get interesting and your thoughts were quickly overwhelmed with trying to keep up with what was happening on the screen. Even though he was right at the corner of your vision, Josh was far from at the forefront of your mind.

“No way!” Tyler said, sitting up so fast that the water in his lap spilled all over your legs and the couch. He was still too preoccupied with the plot twist to notice. “She was- and he- you’re kidding!”

“Tyler!” you groaned, already feeling the water soaking through the material of your sweatpants to your legs.

“Oh shoot,” he said, finally noticing the mess he had created. “Hold on.”

Tyler quickly set his cup down and ran up the stairs. You gently removed your legs from the puddle that had formed and tried not to drip more water all over the place.

“So much for having a dry place to sleep,” Josh said.

Shit. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“I’ll just steal Tyler’s bed,” you sighed. “It’s his mess, he can pay the price.”

“Good luck with that.”

Tyler returned, now carrying a number of towels in his arms. He haphazardly tossed them onto the couch and started to pat at them, which seemed to be doing a surprisingly good job at soaking up the water. You grabbed one of the smaller ones and started to dab at your sweatpants.

“Hey, Dun, want to stop flirting and get off your phone for long enough to help us clean up this mess?”

“I don’t know, looks like you have it covered,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“We do,” Tyler said, glancing at you.

“So it’s cool if I head up to bed?”

“Go for it.”

“Goodnight, guys.”

“See you tomorrow,” you said.

“Goodnight.”

You watched as Josh disappeared up the stairs and around the corner. After your talk with Tyler earlier in the day, tonight had not gone like you had hoped.

“Don’t even say it because I’m really not in the mood to hear it,” you said, standing up and throwing the towel down on the couch. “And don’t turn around.”

“Roger that,” he said. You could hear him continuing to dab water off the couch.

A new sense of frustration washed over you as you stripped off your sweatshirt in favor of an oversized Death Cab for Cutie shirt Tyler had bought you as a “congratulations for completing your first term of college” gift. He had given it to you the same day he announced he wouldn’t be coming back next term. At the time, you had been afraid that your newly formed friendship with him wouldn’t last, but here you were years later.

“Where am I going to sleep tonight?” you asked, failing to keep the edge of frustration out of your voice. You tossed your wet sweatpants over the back of the chair and pulled on your pajama shorts.

“With Josh.”

You snorted, “Very funny. You know, I’m beginning to think all the stuff you said about him flirting with me was bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit and I’m not kidding.”

You finished tucking your clean sweatshirt away in your bag and turned to face Tyler, expecting him to have his usual dorky “got ya” grin on his face. When you realized he was just casually scooping up the now damp towels, your stomach sunk.

“You’re not serious?”

“I am!”

“Tyler Joseph, you are not making me sleep in the same bed as Josh.”

“Watch me.”

You started to sprint towards the stairs - Tyler couldn’t kick you out of his bed if you were already in it - but Tyler was faster, even with the towels in his hands. He took the stairs two at a time and slipped into his bedroom, closing the door just before you could get a foot inside.

“Tyler, please,” you said, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it.

“Work it out.” His voice was muffled through the door.

You sighed. Once Tyler had his heart set on something, there was no changing his mind about it. That door was not going to open until he wanted it to, and your unwillingness to sleep in the same bed as Josh was not a good enough reason for him.

You stood in the dark hallway for a few minutes, contemplating the options that currently stood in front of you:

Suck it up and ask Josh if you could stay in his room for the night.

Sleep on the wet couch and deal with the discomfort.

Go home and spend another night in your sweltering apartment.

Sleep on the floor.

You groaned and childishly stomped your foot against the ground, not liking any of your choices. On the other side of the door, you could hear Tyler casually getting ready for bed without a care in the world. He didn’t have to worry about a broken air conditioning system or a stupid boy or where to sleep.

Stupid Tyler.

“Is everything ok out here?”

Could this night get any worse?

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, turning to face Josh. Your jaw nearly dropped upon seeing him. Sure, you had seen him in pajamas countless times on tour, but never like this. He was wearing a pair of Adidas sweatpants that were resting way low on his hips. You couldn’t help the way that your eyes slid up his torso until they met his. Some of his curls were falling into his eyes, which you really hoped meant he couldn’t see how blatantly you were ogling him right now. His mouth curled into a smile around the toothbrush that was half-hanging out of his mouth. Think, Y/N, think! What were you going to say? “I just thought I would be able to bargain with Tyler since he… you know, with the couch? But since I’m standing in the hall, you can probably figure out how that went.”

“Classic Tyler,” Josh said, pulling his toothbrush back out of his mouth so he could speak. “You know, you could sleep in here if you wanted. My bed is big enough for the two of us.”

You hated that Tyler’s plan was working.

“Um, yeah, sure. I just need to finish getting ready for bed.”

“Cool, just hop in whenever you want.”

How was he being so nonchalant about this?

“Will do,” you said, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He laughed quietly and disappeared back into his room.

You took your time going through your nightly routine, trying to put off having to be in the same bed as Josh for as long as you could. Tyler was probably laying in his own bed right about now, completely alone, feeling satisfied with the work he had done in pushing you and Josh closer together. The thought of it was enough to make you want to kick down his door and chew him out for putting you in situations like this, even if deep down you knew he was just trying to help you out.

Josh was already in bed when you walked into his room, scrolling through his phone. His torso was no longer on full display, but the light of his phone was illuminating his features. You made an effort not to stare as you walked over and slipped under the covers. The blanket was thick, but the fan at the end of the bed was producing enough air to offset the warmth. Besides, any amount of cool air was an improvement from the absolute hell that you had woken up to earlier that morning.

“Are you comfortable?” Josh asked. They were the first words you had exchanged since you entered the room.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me sleep in here, by the way.”

“I wasn’t about to let you sleep on the soaking wet couch. You’re supposed to be comfortable while you stay here, not dealing with an issue that’s just as bad as a furnace apartment.”

“Tell that to Tyler,” you snorted.

“You should give him a bad Yelp review.”

You and Josh both laughed.

“I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

The two of you exchanged some more small talk before finally deciding that you should get some sleep. After your friendly conversation - that featured a few flirty remarks on both sides - you were feeling a little bit better, though you couldn’t deny the tension you felt now that the room was quiet. It was like you could feel every little shift in his sleeping position and all the heat radiating off of him and hear every tiny change in his breathing.

And it was making it very hard to get some sleep.

You carefully rolled over onto your other side, which meant that you were now facing Josh, hoping that the change in position would relax you a little bit. After checking the time, and realizing you had spent nearly half an hour trying to fall asleep to no avail, you closed your eyes and tried to calm your mind. All you had to do was get to sleep, then you didn’t have to worry about Josh anymore. He would become a problem for you to deal with in the morning.

Unfortunately, sleeping Josh had different ideas. He rolled over, leaving his nose inches from yours, and flailing his arms all over the place. Your hands were just barely touching, sending tingles into your arm and erasing what tiny bit of tiredness you had managed to accumulate. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest from just that tiny bit of contact.

And you were supposed to spend all night in a bed right next to him?

Suddenly overwhelmed, you shot out of bed, tripping a little over the mess of blankets you had made while trying to fall asleep. Josh sat up instantly, his hands splayed out on the bed behind him, holding him up. He squinted, looking around the room until his eyes landed on you.

“Are you ok?”

“I can’t-” you heaved, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Do what? What’s going on? Are you awake? Am I awake?”

“We’re both awake,” you said, resting a hand on your chest.

Josh slowly threw the covers off of him and got up, walking around the bed until he was standing across from you.

“What is going on, Y/N?”

“It’s just you and me in the bed and it’s overwhelming and I don’t know what to do.” The words were spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “First it’s the teasing and Tyler’s remarks and the pretty people on Tinder that are so much better than I’ll ever be and now I’m here in your bed and you’re right there and I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about all of it…”

“Hold on, slow down, I don’t understand,” Josh said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I like you, Josh, a lot. And I know I tease you and act like I don’t, but I really, really do.”

Josh closed the space between you, resting his hands on your cheeks with just enough force to finally get you to look at him. His eyes were shining.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

His lips crashed into yours and he tasted like toothpaste and smelled like shampoo and his skin was warm underneath your fingertips but not sweaty and you were completely lost in him. You liked the way his calluses brushed against your cheeks and how his lips fit perfectly with yours. You liked a lot of things about him, really.

“Sorry, that was really embarrassing,” you mumbled when he finally pulled away.

“It was cute.”

“Me practically falling out of your bed because our fingers brushed for half a second and then ranting at you incoherently at two in the morning is not cute,” you laughed.

“If I brush against your fingers right now, will it happen again?” Josh smiled, leaning close enough to you that his nose pressed against yours. His fingers ghosted the length of your arm and eventually brushed against your hand, his pointer finger just barely curling against yours.

“All my cards are already on the table.”

“I like your cards.”

“What?” you giggled.

“I don’t know where I was going with that,” he laughed with you.

“Thirty seconds into this… whatever it is and you’re already losing your cool.”

Josh grinned. “What can I say? You just do that to me.”

“Alright, that’s it, we’re going back to bed,” you said, grabbing Josh’s arm and dragging him back towards the bed.

“What do you think Tyler will say when we tell him about this?”

“I can already see the look on his face when we tell him he was right,” you sighed, sliding back under the covers. Josh joined you and opened his arms, inviting you to lay on his chest.

“If it makes you feel any better, he has to deal with us for the next few days.”

You smiled, “If we’re lucky, he has to deal with us forever.”

“I like the sound of that.”

When Josh leaned down to kiss you again, the entire world faded away.

#josh dun #josh dun x reader #josh dun fluff #josh dun angst #twenty one pilots #josh dun imagine #josh dun drabble #josh dun fanfiction #twenty one pilots x reader #twenty one pilots imagine #twenty one pilots drabble #twenty one pilots fanfiction #fluff #angst #skeleton clique #blurry-fics

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thestarwrites · 4 years

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All Right, All Might: Ch. 2

Word Count: 2,176

Rating: PG (mention of something filthy)

Painting: Toshinori Yagi X FemOC

The UA Guidance Counselor, a quirk user with Pathokenesis, is shocked to find out her personal hero All Might is coming to be a teacher. The road they walk as a parallel starts to merge and there’s no telling what could happen.

CHAPTER TWO: A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

Walking into the school the next morning a familiar slinky figure came up beside Keri, “So, I heard from Nezu that you ran into Toshinori Yagi yesterday afternoon…”

Keri’s chest momentarily tightened and she cleared her throat, “Yeah, he thought my office was the principals is all.” Her grip on her backpack tightened, “Anyways, I’m supposed to teach the kids about bullying at a general assembly today while he has a meeting with the teachers—“

“Hold on Patho- that’s not the only thing I heard.”

“What… do you mean?” She said with honest confusion.

Grinning she ran her hand on Patho’s shoulders, “I heard you got his phone number.”

Visibly prickling she looked up at her, “What is the principal the biggest gossip in the world?!”

Laughing, Midnight winked, “No- he didnt tell me anything other than he was in your office, but I figured I’d see if I could weasel anything out of you… so— have you guys sexted?”

“NO!” Keri shouted- Aizawa calling across the hall for her to shut up so he could sleep in peace. Shrinking she sighed, “I haven’t texted him yet to let him have my number. Thats so weird, right? To have All Might’s telephone number.”

“Oh honey, we all have his number. Pro heroes need to be able to get in touch with one another!”

Her cheeks flushed harder, “Yeah…. That makes sense.”

“Poor little Patho… so lovesick.”

“Oh my god Nemuri, I’m going to die because of you one of these days.”

She laughed, before purring, “Text him.” With a wave of her arm she passed into the teachers office as Keri continued toward the administration floor. Running her hand in her hair she pulled out her phone, looking at the entry of his contact she had made - immediately after receiving his number- it was his name; Toshinori, to keep incognito to anyone who might steal her phone. Though she did put a star next to it. All Might. Her childhood hero. On her phone. Making a few drafts of a text message, she decided against it, tucking the phone away to prepare for some early morning counseling, and then the assembly.

——————

Around eleven in the morning, Toshinori stood in Nezu’s office, already in his weakened form. The principal took a sip of his tea and watched with amusement as the number-one-hero squirmed uncomfortably in the small chair, “So… how does it feel to be back?”

“Weird,” He confessed, taking a deep breath, “So much has changed - but, so much is the same… I’m the most different I guess.”

Nezu chuckled and sighed, pushing a mug of tea toward All Might, “You already know a lot of the teachers and staff here from Hero work correct? It’s mainly just letting them in on how they can help you to hide your secret?”

Running his deft fingers on the side of the cup, he nodded, “Yeah, the only one I didn’t know too well was your Guidance Councilor - but I already met her yesterday.”

“Oh?” He smiled, “What do you think of her?”

Toshinori nodded a few times, “I don’t think she likes me.” Nezu began to laugh, and just when Toshi thought he would stop laughing, he continued to laugh, “Sir, that’s not… a joke.”

“Oh please, All Might, everyone likes you. I meant what did you think of her as our guidance counselor! I think you’ve worked with her before. — By the way, why do you think she doesn’t like you?”

He cracked his neck briefly, “Oh— well she’s a great support hero. She’s very sincere, and her ability to put people at ease probably makes her really excel at helping the students and teachers here…” He paused, “I gave her my phone number, told her to text me so I’d have hers… she hasn’t.”

Chuckling again, Nazo sipped his tea, “Well, she is your junior, and you are the number one hero in Japan. Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t die of shock.”

“I guess… that’s fair,” All might said softly.

“I mean she’s in her office preparing for the General Assembly now I’m sure. You could go speak with her if you wish- you have some time.”

He blinked and smiled, “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

“Off you go then, be back in an hour please!”

A cloud of smoke appeared as she shining symbol of peace stood there all big and bulky, “YES SIR.” Clearing his throat he looked both ways out of Nezu’s office before starting to walk down the hallway.

“Hi there, Toshi.” The voice of midnight came purring behind him. “AH- NEMURI — DIDN’T SEE YOU THERE.”

The woman laughed gently, “Where are you off to? I was just coming to see if you had arrived yet, and I find you leaving?”

“OH I… WAS GOING TO VISIT THE GUIDANCE OFFICE.” He smiled.

Midnight smirked devilishly, “Going to see you girlfriend?”

“GIRLFR— WHAT?” He started to visibly sweat, “I BARELY KNOW HER — NEZU RECOMMENDED I GO HAVE A CHAT — UH— ABOUT THE ASSEMBLY! IN CASE SHE NEEDED ANY POINTERS!”

“Of course he did.” She smirked, “Well she’s sweet on you, you know.”

He coughed up blood then, taken off guard so fast, covering his mouth quick with his hand he grunted, “SHE’S A YOUNG WOMAN AND I WOULD NEVER THINK TO— TO — I GOTTA GO. I WILL SEE YOU AT THE LUNCH MEETING, NEMURI.”

Midnight cackled to herself as he high tailed it toward your office, “This is delicious.”

Coming in he pushed his back against the door as he panted, slowly turning into his small-might form. The hand over his mouth was dripping blood.

Keri turned to see who came in and she gasped, “Toshi!” She jumped up and grabbed her handkerchief, rushing over to him, “Oh my gosh are you alright? Did something happen?” She placed a warm hand on his small bicep, her quirk already pumping out calming energy on instinct.

He smiled and took the handkerchief, “You really have a great quirk.”

Her cheeks reddened and she cleared her throat, “I’ll go get a wet washcloth okay? Come and sit down — do you want anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

All Might moved to pull the privacy shade down over the glass in the door, so no kids saw him like this, and then he walked toward her lounge, “Water would be nice, thanks.”

After a few minutes she came back with a glass of water and a warm washcloth, “Are you sure you’re alright? That was a lot of blood.”

“I’m used to it,” He smiled sadly, cleaning himself up, “Thank you… no one usually is this kind to me.”

“Well I don’t like that… that you’re used to coughing up blood.”

Taking a deep breath he wiped off his lips and chin with the washcloth, his eyes moving to the ruined cloth over his knee, “I’ve ruined your handkerchief,” he frowned at the flowery handkerchief with a K on the corner.

“Oh please, Toshinori… you are more important than a handkerchief.” Something about that sentiment made him blush, and Keri smiled, “What were you running from when you came in here?”

He cleared his throat, swallowing some water, “Nemuri.”

She laughed, “I understand… I did that this morning. She’s nice but… gosh is she sexual.”

“Yeah… sexual.” He repeated, cheeks reddening as he thought about what she said —She’s sweet on you, you know — maybe as All Might, but never as weak Toshinori Yagi, “Hey— can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, fixing her tea how she liked it.

“How come you… didn’t text me?”

Her cheeks flushed bright red and she almost dropped the sugar bowl, “Oh— oh uhm, just… I couldn’t think of what to say.”

His eyebrows knitted, “Well… you could just… quickly call right now so I can have your number?”

Keri nodded, “S-sure.” Taking out her phone she dialed Toshinori ——

A PHONE CALL IS HERE!!

A PHONE CALL IS HE—

“Ack— I thought I silenced that.” All Might turned the volume off. After a few seconds, the guidance counselor burst out laughing, “Uh- what’s so funny, Patho?”

“Oh my god! You’re your own ringtone!!”

He flushed red, “Is… that…. bad?”

“No! Oh gosh that’s so cute! Of course you have you as your ringtone!”

Cute? Toshinori smiled a little, “Yeah… I guess I should change it by now but—“

“Oh no— no please don’t change it.” She smiled, calming down and catching her breath she leaned her chin on her palm, “You’re so adorable, Toshinori.”

“That’s not an adjective I’ve been called in this form before,” He smiled nervously.

Knitting her eyebrows together again she frowned, “Thats ridiculous.”

“What?”

“You’re All Might… everything about you is adorable.” She admitted softly, “You’re still Toshinori, no matter if you’re all muscles or small muscles… you can’t let your self worth hinge on what other people think of you, although I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. You’ve been in the public eye for almost thirty years.”

“Yeah… I know I’m old.”

Sighing she tilted her head, “Have you ever considered seeing a therapist, Toshi?”

“Well… no… it hasn’t ever crossed my mind.”

Moving a little closer to him, she sandwiched the hand not holding the bloody cloth with her own, “You do so much for everyone. All Might is infallible- right? The symbol of peace, the hero of heroes. Everyone loves you — but what about Toshinori Yagi? As amazing as you are, you’re only a man.”

All Might looked down at their hands and he felt… tears pooling in his eyes.

Keri continued, comforting touches stroking over his hand, “You’re a man with a huge burden on his shoulders, you don’t want to let everyone down, and now you’re hurt, and you’re more afraid of letting everyone down — am I right?”

He let his head hang and he let the cloth drop, his other hand coming a top hers, “More than you could ever know…” How her quirk made him feel - safe, warm, comforted - he wanted to melt into her, cry, be vulnerable. Clearing his throat, “You’re certainly a great therapist… These future heroes are lucky…”

“Toshi…”

“Mmm?”

She smirked, “You’re avoiding.”

He met her eyes and smiled, “Would you… counsel me? This fall when I start working here?”

“Well, you have my number right? Any time this summer you need to talk, I’ll be here for you.”

“But— that’s your free time—“

“You’re All Might. You are the greatest hero in the world… I will make any time for you, as you have devoted all your time to us.”

His eyes finally gave in and misted over, his winning smile returned as a tear slid down his cheek, “You are the kindest person I have ever met, Patho… thank you.”

She gently rubbed his hand, she was shocked the pro hero was crying, although she would never let him know it. That wouldn’t be productive as someone who is there to counsel and comfort, “It’s going to be all right, All Might….”

“And- if there’s anything I can do for you, if there’s any time you need someone to listen — I’m here too, okay? Two way street.” He nodded.

“Does this make us friends?” She chuckled gently, the clock chimed twelve.

He puffed into his hero form, and beamed, still holding her hands, “OF COURSE WE’RE FRIENDS!”

She laughed and pulled back to stand, he followed suit, “You know… you’re the tallest person I’ve ever seen in either form…” “WELL… I HAVE GOOD GENES I GUESS.” He laughed.

Keri chuckled and sighed, “I saw you in public once you know, when I was in high school.” He turned, looking a little more somber, “I went to Ketsubutsu Academy, and when I was seventeen, they had a reveal for you to unveil your bronze age costume. I felt so absolutely in awe to be so close to you.”

Toshinori smiled more softly, “How do you feel now?” It wasn’t really what he meant to ask, but it just had come out.

Looking up at him she smiled, “I don’t know… Calm.”

“Hm…”

Reaching out she gently rubbed his back, “Come on now, my new found friend, you have to go face the music with the other teachers, and I have to tell the kids about the horrors of bullying.” Turning to go collect the flash drive for her power point, he called out.

“Keri?”

She turned and smiled, “Hm?”

“Would you go to dinner with me tonight? I mean — if you don’t mind me going in my weaker form.”

Smiling she nodded, “I’d love to — and stop differentiating between your two forms, I’m happy to be with you any way you happen to show up, hm?”

“Okay— I’ll try!” He chuckled, “TEXT ME YOUR ADDRESS I WILL PICK YOU UP AT EIGHT.”

And with that, he once again — dramatically — exited the office. Keri chuckled, somehow, it didn’t seem so strange anymore. Sure, he was still her hero but… something had shifted in a far away place.

#toshinori x oc #toshinori yagi #all might x oc #all might #my hero academia fanfiction

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

Text

Wednesday (One-Shot Klaine Fic)

Rating: E for everyone! Lol -- it’s G, guys, nothing but fluff here. Warnings: Get ready to get a dose of everyday life, y’all Word Count: 9741 Summary: Just an average day in the life of Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, and their baby Katie.

A/N: This was written for Glee Potluck Big Bang Fic Exchange @snarkyhag and @lilyvandersteen are hosting. This fic is written for: @justgleekout! It’s a little early - but now ya’ll can have something to read over the weekend :)

Thanks to @snarkyhag for being my lovely and beautiful beta - slayer of any kind of short, slanted punctuation mark. ;)

***

Wednesday 12:00am-1am

Kurt arrives home, shuddering a little as he takes off his snow covered jacket and puts it on the hook by the door. The lights in the apartment are all off, save for the one in the kitchen they always keep on when one of them comes home late. Ella, their black cat, is sitting on the back of the couch, watching Kurt carefully as he takes off his shoes. The apartment is in decent shape. There are some bottles soaking in the kitchen sink and some of Katie’s toys are left on a blanket in the middle of the living room but, other than that, the place is pretty clean. Tuesdays Blaine has mostly off, and spends some of his time cleaning the apartment.

Kurt pets Ella, who purrs as she stands and stretches. She gives a little meow. Blaine will have fed her a few hours earlier but Kurt grabs a treat from the kitchen to give her. Ella follows faithfully, knowing she’ll get her usual midnight snack.

“This is just between the two of us, okay?” Kurt whispers, putting a finger to his lips and making the ‘sshhhh’ sound.

He reaches into the cupboard and brings out some chamomile tea along with the ‘I Love My Papa’ mug that Katie (and mostly Blaine) had decorated for his birthday last year. While the water heats up, Kurt goes through the mail; statement, statement, phone bill that really needs to be moved to paperless, book of coupons that Kurt hates getting because it wastes paper but Blaine loves because they offer fifty cents off burritos from the Mexican place down the street, and an ad from a car place exclaiming that if you scratch off the boxes you could win thirty-thousand dollars or a new car. Kurt takes a moment to scratch the boxes but, alas, he has not won. He lets out a little sigh as he arbitrarily thinks about everything he could do with an additional thirty-thousand dollars.

Kurt takes his tea and heads into Katie’s room. Ella follows dutifully. Katie’s lying in her crib, the one-year-old sleeping soundly as the twinkling sounds of her mobile sound above her. He smiles to himself, as he sips his tea, and watches his child sleep. Being a parent is not easy. So not easy. So not easy that his dad had a good laugh about it the first time Kurt called him up because Katie refused to sleep during the night. She’s a difficult little thing but she is their beautiful baby girl.

Kurt reaches into the crib and caresses her tiny head, playing with the thin wisps of dark curls. He loves this strange, tiny human more than he can even say. Somehow, he believes he’s a better person just by having her in his life.

Drowsiness begins to kick in, so Kurt heads to the bedroom. He knows the room without having to turn on any lights. Wanting to be careful not to wake Blaine - who’s sprawled out on the bed having pushed the covers off and over to his side - Kurt sets his mug on the nightstand and turns the lamp on the dimmest level. Blaine, who is often too warm at night, is stripped down to his boxers, and Kurt grins as he sees his husband. The chill of being outside, combined with the draftiness of the windows, is still with Kurt and yet Blaine seems to radiate heat at all times. Kurt takes a moment to up the thermostat a notch. They’ll argue about it in the morning as they always do.

He is automatically into his bedtime routine; bathroom, skin care, brushing teeth, pjs. Kurt has surprisingly changed little about his ways since being a teenager. If you find something that works, keep with it, he figures. Ten minutes later, he is slipping under the covers of the bed. Phone plugged in beside him, baby monitor on, and mug of tea cool enough to enjoy as he picks up the magazine he had been flipping through the night before.

Blaine rolls on the bed, gravitating to him without waking up, as if sensing that he is there. Kurt reaches down to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze before finally settling in for the night.

1am-2am

Kurt is startled awake. He had fallen asleep, magazine still on his chest and open to the article he had been reading on how far a clothing design can be ‘inspired’ by a culture before it becomes cultural appropriation. He tosses the magazine on the nightstand. Instinctively checks his phone on the charger, listens a moment for sounds from the baby monitor and, when everything seems alright, turns off the light that had been left on. Kurt feels Blaine shift a little beside him, his legs sliding against Kurt’s as he curls in on his side and begins to drift off once again.

2am-3am

Ella stalks the apartment. She spends some time hunting down a bug that scuttles across the kitchen floor, plays with it a little before letting it go. She then finds a receipt that had not quite made it into the garbage and jumps on it, as if it were the most fierce thing in the kitchen. She gives it a few swats, pushes it aroud until she tires of it, and heads to her dish for a drink.

She stalks around the apartment once more, seeking out anything that makes any kind of unusual movement - a flash of light from outside, a shadow in the corner, the sound of something squeaking from below. She takes a moment to survey the baby’s room, climbing high on a bookshelf so she can look down at the little creature. She’s still unsure of it. It makes strange noises and grabs at her unexpectedly. But the smells have become familiar, so Ella tolerates it in her home.

When she is satisfied, Ella jumps down and heads to the master bedroom. She jumps up to the bed, finding her normal place, a small section of the corner on Kurt’s side where feet don’t usually get at her. She kneads it a little, turns in a circle twice, then settles in for another nap.

[Read the rest on Ao3]

#s.o. writes things #fic exchange #klaine fic #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #it's cute - read it!#lol

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 4 years

Text

Stolen Moments - Part Two

A/N: A little miniseries that I’ve been working on. Not gonna lie, this is probably the hardest I have ever fluffed. It is also my very first at Sebastian Stan fanfiction, so go easy on me alright? Feedback is GOLDEN, and the fastest way to my heart. Thanks to @superapplepie for letting me test my fluff on her, and to @thorne93 for correcting all my spelling, you guys are the best.

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 1844

“I can't believe you’re ditching me,” (YN) said, falling down into her best friend’s couch. Ellie and (YN) had planned this girls weekend to New York months ago, and they had both been so excited to go and spend some much needed time together, how could she cancel so last minute?

“I have to tell you something,” Ellie said, taking a seat next to her friend on the couch. “I'm pregnant,” she continued, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“What? Are you serious?” (YN) asked in mixed shock and excitement, pulling Ellie in for a big hug. “Congratulations. I'm so happy for you,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. She knew they had been trying for a while, so this was definitely great news.

“Thank you,” Ellie said, her blue eyes glistening with her own tears. It had been a nightmare to keep this secret from her best friend, but both her and her husband had decided to wait until they knew that everything was as it should. “I'm still having a rough go with this nausea and I don't think I'd be good company for you right now,” she said, explaining why she was cancelling on New York.

“That's okay. I'll make some calls and cancel, see if we can get some of our money back,” (YN) offered.

“No. I think you should go. Relax, have fun, maybe call up Sebastian,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I don't think he’d want to meet up,” (YN) countered. Yes they had gone on that one, amazing date, but at the end of it he hadn't kissed her, he hadn't even hugged her goodnight, and that told her all she needed to know.

“You guys have been texting constantly and talked on the phone every day even when he's been traveling around the world,” she interjected. “I'm pretty sure he's into you,” she said knowingly.

“I don't knoow,” (YN) dragged.

“We’re not gonna get any money back when it's less than a day away, so you might as well go. And when you’re there already, you can call him up, at the very least you'll get some peace of mind on the matter,” she countered.

“Fine.” A few days away didn't sound too shabby, and she had really been looking forward to this trip. How bad could it be?

“Good girl. Now that that's done, I'm gonna go throw up again,” she informed as she got to her feet.

“Aaaaand that's my que to leave,” (YN) said with a chuckle as she watched her best friend make a beeline for the bathroom down the hall.

(Yn) had packed her bags and called an uber to come pick her up in the middle of the night, so she was good to go. Well almost… she still had a phone call to make. She poured herself a generous glass of wine and got situated on her couch before she looked up his number and pressed call. It had been so easy to talk to him over the last month, but now that there was a possibility that she would actually get to meet him again, her body had filled with nerves. The wine would probably help with that though.

It was getting late in New York, but Sebastian was still awake when his phone started buzzing on the coffee table. He smiled to himself when he saw her name on the screen. “Hey, you,” he said softly, leaning back into his couch.

“Hey. I didn't wake you did I?” she asked, suddenly realizing it was nearing midnight there.

“No, I'm still up. How was your day?” he asked. These little conversations on the phone had come to be the highlight of his day, hearing about her day and telling her about his made him feel a little closer to her in a way.

“It was good. I turned in that article I was working on, did a little packing, and then went to see Ellie for a little while,” she summarised. “How was your day?”

“Very uneventful,” he said with a huff of air. He had literally done nothing all day. “Wait, you've been packing? Are you going somewhere?”

“I am,” she said, biting her lip as butterflies rushed through her stomach. “I'm going to New York tomorrow.”

“Really?” he asked in excitement as he sat up on his couch. “For work?”

“No. It was supposed to be a girls weekend with Ellie, but she canceled on me today. And then she convinced me to go alone,” she explained. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet up?”

“Definitely,” he replied instantly, a wide smile on his face. He was so excited about the prospect of seeing her again that he didn't even dwell on the fact that she hadn't once mentioned traveling to New York to him. “When are you getting in tomorrow? Maybe we could grab dinner, or drinks?” he tried to sound casual, but he wasn't sure he succeeded.

“I would love to,” she said, smiling into the phone. “My plane lands at JFK around three thirty.”

By the time they hung up the phone they had made a plan for the next day, dinner and drinks, and they were both very excited to see each other again. Sleep didn't come easy to (YN) as the butterflies had taken up permanent residency in her stomach, but eventually she had drifted away into a peaceful slumber.

New York

(YN)’s flight had been delayed, and it was nearly six pm when she finally landed at JFK. Between waiting for her luggage and finding a taxi it had taken nearly two hours to get to her hotel, and by the time she was checked in, showered, and changed out of her airplane covered clothes, it was nearly 9.30. She was beat, and the bed in her room was calling out for her, but she had made plans to grab a beer with Sebastian, and however exhausted she was, it didn't measure up to how desperately she wanted to see him again.

She didn't regret her decision to meet him though, she had a great night with him- or a great couple of hours at least, but now she could hardly keep her eyes open anymore, and she was glad they were on their way back to the hotel.

Sebastian felt a little guilty about keeping her up so late after the day she'd had, but everytime she smiled at him or laughed, he forgot all about that. She was so much fun to hang out with, so easygoing and relaxed, which made him relaxed as well. Now on the other hand, his body had filled with nerves, because he knew he had to say goodnight to her soon, and he hoped he could find the courage to do what he didn't last time they went out; kiss her. He figured he'd ease into it so as they walked through the park he reached out for her hand and laced their fingers together, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck or reading the situation wrong.

It was as a jolt of electricity shot through her arm at the contact, and she instinctively looked up at him, offering him a smile as she saw the uncertainty on his handsome face. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was? Either way, the little gesture he had just made gave her courage to ask what had been on her mind all night. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said before she let the nerves get the better of her. He looked down at her with a curious expression, urging her to go on. “I have two tickets to this concert on Saturday, and I wondered if you would like to go with me?”

“I'd love too,” he said instantly.

“Bold of you to accept without even knowing which band, or what kind of music they play,” she teased. “But you said yes, so there's no turning back now,” she quickly added when he was about to say something.

Sebastian just laughed. In truth it didn't matter to him what concert it was as long as he got to spend some more time with her. Talking on the phone was great and all, but it was nothing compared to having her here with him. A pit grew in his stomach as her hotel came into view and he realized it was time to say goodnight to her.

They stopped in front of The Mark hotel, a little ways away from the entrance so that they wouldn't be in anyone’s way. “So, this is me,” she said as she looked into his eyes, anticipation and nerves blurring her mind.

“I know. I picked you up here, remember?” he teased, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Right,” she dragged, a nervous laugh falling from her lips as she dipped her head down in embarrassment.

Seb reached out for her and hooked a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to look up at him again. “I had a really good time with you tonight,” he said softly as he looked into her sparkling eyes.

“I did too,” she said.

A nervous tension fell between them as Seb’s hand moved from her chin to cup her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, setting all her nerves on fire. This time she was sure he was going to kiss her, and time felt like it stood still as she waited for his next move. He took a small step closer to her, his ocean blue eyes flitting between hers as if searching for a sign to stop, but he didn't find any. He was nervous, heart pounding in his chest as he leaned down, his lips hovering just millimeters from hers. She was the one who closed the gap between them, just barely brushing her lips to his as if she was testing the waters, but it was Sebastian who chased her when she tried to pull back. His lips were soft against hers, and it was over before it had even started, but it had ignited something in both of them, leaving them wanting more, but that would have to wait for another time.

She dipped her head down and smiled as Sebastian pulled back, she could still feel him on her lips and she had a suspicion that that feeling would linger for a while.

“Will you have breakfast with me tomorrow?” he asked. Suddenly Saturday was too far away and he needed to see her again before then.

“I'd love to.”

“Alright. I'll pick you up here around ten?” he asked.

“Sounds good,” she agreed. Before she could prepare herself, Seb leaned in for another quick kiss, but also this one ended too soon.

“Good night, (YN),” he said, barely above a whisper as he pulled back again.

“Good night, Sebastian,” she said, chuckling a little as he gave her a wave before he turned on his heel and started on his way home.

If you like it, put a ring on it help me spread my work by hitting that reblog button. It would also be super awesome if you let me know what you think.

If you want a tag, send me an ASK

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian fluff #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian x you #SM

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too-attached-to-fiction · 4 years

Text

Finding Family

Summary:

Logan really wants kids and Virgil doesn't know how to say no to his husband.

Plus, it doesn't help that the kids Thomas befriends need their support.

Notes:

we made another found family au because I can't get enough of it and Clam indulges me.

Updates will probably be inconsistent because we want to make each part longer, so bookmark/ask to be tagged on Tumblr!

I need fan art of this too if anyone wants to do that.....

Welcome back, readers!

Nox

READ ON AO3

~~~

Logan Sanders enjoyed getting up early.

There was something about the way the dew settled on the windows and plants, the slow sunrise. The world was quiet, and even though Earth spun 1,000 miles an hour, things seemed to stand still.

He wasn’t always an early riser, but he liked being up during hours that no one else was. On the few days he slept in, he only felt more tired. In his opinion, Logan had better things to do than sleep.

Besides, the mornings were for appreciating simple things.

Logan glanced down at his side, where his husband, Virgil, snored quietly. The purple streaks he’d had in his hair during their early grad-school years had long faded, although the morning sun showed where it used to be. Logan gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before getting ready for the rest of the day.

Virgil was the complete opposite of Logan, in a good way. He preferred late nights and midnight snacks the same way Logan preferred early sunrises and bitter coffee. Maybe it made sense, considering Logan’s teaching career. He needed to be up early anyways.

The kindergarteners Logan was currently teaching required a lot of energy. And while his sleep schedule was nothing short of exact, he always needed some sort of caffeine to make sure he didn’t drift off during class.

His eyes landed on his computer the minute he had his coffee mug in hand. Even though he spent his work days surrounded by kids, it wasn’t the same as parenting. He and Virgil had been discussing it since they got married, but it seemed that they would never have the right timing. Their careers were barely getting started, and there was no way they could ignore their stack of student loans that threatened to swallow them in debt. Still…

Logan had time. According to the clock on the oven, it was only seven. He didn’t need to be at the elementary school until eight-thirty. Maybe if he just looked into it, did his research, they could adopt.

Maybe.

~~~

“What’s this?” Virgil asked that evening, rifling through a stack of brochures Logan had left on the table. “Foster-to-adopt… Logan?” He glanced over at his husband, who was trying to feign innocence. “Do you want to tell me what’s with these flyers?”

“I just thought we could look into it.” He tried to be as nonchalant as he could, eyes flickering back and forth between Virgil and his laptop. “Nothing set in stone.”

“Lo, we’re not even financially stable enough to buy a second car, much less adopt. A kid is a life-long investment, and we both know how harsh the system is for those kids.” For a brief while in university, Virgil had debated on becoming a social worker. But that kind of work was rough on all sides, and the results were heavily varied. “And even if we fostered, they could easily take the kid away from us at any point, given the parents are still alive. Would you want to deal with that kind of heartbreak?”

“I thought you wanted kids too.” Logan frowned, not wanting to acknowledge Virgil’s points.

“I do, but I don’t know… I don’t want you to get your heartbroken if it doesn’t work out.”

“We’ll be helping them. You’re a lawyer because you want to help everyone and because you hated the idea of working in a hospital. Why not help these kids?”

Virgil looked at Logan. “The point of foster care is to be temporary guardians while their birth parents fix whatever issues they have. It’s selfless and sometimes, you get nothing in return. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” The two stared at each other for a minute, silently waiting for the other to back down. When it was clear that wasn’t the case, Virgil sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“You’re doing all the research.” He mumbled, kissing Logan on the cheek before walking off to start dinner. “And scheduling the classes.”

“Mhm.”

Once Virgil was convinced, Logan made quick work to find the right organizations. He contacted the state’s adoption resource exchange organization and was guided to parenting classes. Any waking hour not spent teaching was spent studying for the classes and making sure the house was fit for kids.

The house the couple currently lived in was larger than most would expect from recent grad students, with six bedrooms and two studies. This had been the house Virgil had grown up in, and recently inherited. While he was generally estranged from his parents towards the ends of their lives, neither of them wanted to sell the house. Virgil, to his credit, couldn’t let go of the property either. Logan hadn’t bothered to press, but he knew that despite the bad relationship between Virgil and his parents, this was all he had left of them.

All in all, space wasn’t a problem.

The problem with what Virgil liked to refer to as “the McMansion” was that a lot of the rooms had been unused for years. Dust covered practically any space that Virgil and Logan didn’t use on a daily basis. When Logan was alone, he could practically feel the emptiness around him.

It took a month to fix up the other rooms. All of them were livable spaces, just dusty and old. Virgil took the liberty of throwing out things, always rolling his eyes at the space. “It was just the three of us, I don’t understand why they didn’t get a smaller house. Our neighbors must think we’re an old rich couple about to kick the bucket.” He grumbled one day, making Logan chuckle.

“Regardless, it’s a nice space to grow up in. It’ll be nice to have children running around.”

“Children? Plural?” Virgil nearly sputtered, and Logan laughed again. “I don’t care what you think, we’re starting with one. God, can you imagine the young het-couples who have to deal with three babies all at once?”

“Triplets.” Logan clarified, trying to hide another laugh. “They manage.”

“No wonder the world’s a mess.”

This time, Logan didn’t bother hiding his laughter.

~~~

The day they got Thomas, it was raining. Virgil was fretting over the details last minute as they waited for Adri, their social worker, to come by with Thomas.

“He’s, like, three? Right? What do three year olds like? Video games? TV?” Virgil paced back and forth in the living room. Logan, who had had enough of Virgil’s panicking, stood in front of his husband, clasping Virgil’s shaking hands in his.

“The toys are all in his room, and we agreed he’s not getting anywhere near a screen until he’s five.” Logan reminded Virgil calmly. “I’m making dinner today, and tomorrow isn’t a school day, so we don’t need to worry about transportation yet. But the car seat is already strapped in the car and I double-checked to make sure it’s secure.”

“But what if he has allergies or doesn’t like us or-”

Logan looked at his husband with a smile. “We’ve made it this far. We can’t give up now.” Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang.

Logan was the first to reach the door, leaving a nervous Virgil behind him as he opened it. “Hi, Adri.”

Thomas seemed small for his age, but he definitely checked off the boxes in everything Logan and Virgil had wanted in a kid. His big, brown eyes stared up at Logan.

The teacher bent down to Thomas’s height with a smile. “Hi, Thomas. I’m Logan. You can call me Dad, if you want.”

Thomas shuffled behind Adri, although his eyes still peeked out at Logan. The older man stood back up. “Why don’t you come in?” He offered, stepping out of the way so the two could walk inside.

“Hi!” Virgil was a bundle of nerves, trying to avoid sweaty hands and hyperventilating. “Can we get either of you anything to eat or drink? We have orange juice and water and coffee and milk and we can probably make chocolate milk-”

“That’s alright.” Adri said, shooting him a warm smile. “I was hoping one of you could play with Thomas while we discuss some final notes?”

“I’ll do it. I think legal matters are more of Virgil’s thing anyways.” Logan said. “Thomas, do you want to see your new room?” The little boy nodded eagerly, carefully walking to Logan.

“Now I want you to remember that we’re trying to make this permanent, but the process could take up to thirty months.” Adri reminded Virgil. “You guys are looking good so far, and I don’t doubt you’ll be good parents. I brought a list of things that the agency has you follow, but truthfully, I think you’ll be okay.”

Virgil nodded, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. This was really happening. They had a child in their care now.

Upstairs, Logan sat on the floor of Thomas’s room as the boy explored. He quickly figured out what his favorite stuffed animal was (a stuffed brown dog) and towed it around in a cradle-hold as he looked at the other toys. Unlike most kids, Thomas seemed to brush off all of the toys until he got to the dress-up chest. He opened it as if he was opening a treasure chest.

“Careful with the top, buddy.” Logan said, his kindergarten teacher coming out as he crawled across the room and held the top of the chest up so Thomas could look through the clothes.

Thomas pulled out a fireman’s jacket and hat. Carefully, he set them on the ground and put the jacket on. The sleeves covered his hands but it didn’t matter. Logan closed the chest and put the hat on Thomas’s head.

“Are we firefighters today?” Logan asked, and Thomas grinned.

“Fighting fire!” He pumped his fist in the air, and Logan smiled.

“I don’t think there are any fires here, but why don’t we go look at the other rooms and check?” Logan led Thomas out of the room. They proceeded to check every room, closet, and window in the house, and by the time they made it to the kitchen, Adri and Virgil were finished talking.

“Do you want to stay here, Thomas?” Adri asked, kneeling down to the little boy’s height. The three adults smiled as he nodded with a shy smile.

“They’re going to take care of you, okay? That means you have to be good for them, too. Got it, firefighter Thomas?” They raised the rim of the plastic hat, only for him to nod again and have it fall back down.

“I’ll visit in one week for an inspection, but everything seems okay at the moment. Call me if you have any questions.” Adri said as they walked them to the door. “Alright, see you soon!” She waved as Virgil shut the door.

“Hey, Thomas. I’m Virgil, but you can call me Dad.” The boy looked up at the two men, confused.

“But I thought he was Dad.” Thomas pointed at Logan.

“You can call us Virgil and Logan, or you can call me Papa and you can call Virgil Dad.” Logan said with a smile. “Whatever you want is okay with us. We’re gonna eat dinner and then it’s bath and bedtime, alright? Can we pick you up?”

“Yeah. Why do you have to ask that?”

Virgil picked him up. “Well, you see, there’s something very important called consent…”

~~~

Sunday flew by and Monday arrived, with Thomas’s first day of preschool bright and early. Thomas happily ate a breakfast of cereal in his firefighter’s jacket while this time, it was Logan panicking.

“Logan, you work next to his preschool.” Virgil reminded his husband, sipping watered down, sugary coffee as he watched Logan zoom around the kitchen. “And anyways, he doesn’t need to bring anything to preschool besides a lunch and a toy. We’ll drop him off together before your school starts.”

Virgil was the one to help Thomas into his shoes as Logan packed everyone’s lunches. He made sure to write a note for each before grabbing his bag and Virgil’s briefcase.

“Are you excited for your first day of school, buddy?” Virgil asked as he attached the velcro that adorned Thomas’s shoes together. “You get to go to preschool and make friends.”

“But what about you and Papa?” Thomas asked, and Virgil felt his heart melt at the words.

“Papa and I have work to go to. Kids go to school and adults go to work.” Virgil explained simply. “You’re all set. Are you sure you want to bring the firefighter jacket with you?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Virgil chuckled.

“L, we gotta go!” He called out, scooping Thomas up in his arms. “Don’t want Thomas to be late for his first day of school!”

“Have you seen my lesson plans?”

“Sweetheart, they’re in your bag already. We’ll wait in the car!” Virgil yelled back, walking out to Logan’s SUV with Thomas. Logan had insisted they would need a big car, but now Virgil understood why. A big car and a big house meant more room for kids. Internally, he smacked himself on the forehead.

“Why is Papa running around?” Thomas asked as Virgil adjusted him on his hip for better access to the car keys. He unlocked the doors and opened one in the back so he could put the little boy in his car seat.

“Papa’s nervous about your first day of school.” Virgil replied, putting Thomas into the car seat and fumbling a little with the straps and seat belt.

“But why?”

“Well, he doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s only right next door to your school. And in a few years, he’ll be in the next classroom from you.” Virgil explained simply, finally buckling everything together and relaxing his shoulders. “He’s worried because he loves you.”

“Why aren’t you worried?” Virgil chuckled at the question.

“Because I love you just as much, and I think you’re a brave little firefighter who’s going to make a lot of friends.” Virgil smiled.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the preschool. Virgil pulled into the parking lot and parked faster and more accurately than Logan had ever seen Virgil do. Virgil was the one who unbuckled Thomas’s seatbelt and helped him to the ground.

Logan grabbed his backpack and lunch and followed the two, watching as Virgil leaned one of his arms down so that Thomas could take Virgil’s hand in his.

Once they reached the main classroom, Logan caught up to them. The teacher, one of Logan’s coworkers, smiled warmly at them.

“Hi, Val.” He said awkwardly, but her attention was already on Thomas.

“You must be Thomas.” She said, kneeling down. “We’re gonna have a fun day today. But first, do you want to say goodbye to your dads?”

“Do I have to say goodbye forever?” Thomas asked, eyes wide and ready to overflow.

“No, they’ll be here to pick you up in a little while when they finish their work.” Valerie assured him, then looked at Logan pointedly. “In fact, I’m sure you’ll see your Papa a lot when you’re on the playground.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Dad and Papa.” The two husbands knelt down to give their goodbye hugs and kisses before Thomas walked into the classroom.

Valerie placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Hey, I know it’s hard for parents to let go when their kid starts school, but-”

“Stay out of the way.” Logan finished in a huff. He witnessed it at the beginning of every school year with the kindergartners. Some kicked and screamed; most of the time, the ones doing so were the mothers.

“He’ll be okay. I’ll look out for him.” Valerie dropped her hand to her side and gave them both a comforting smile. “I’ll see you guys at three for pick up.” She promised.

Logan took one last look over his shoulder to see Thomas excitedly talking to a pair of boys in the classroom.

He’d be alright.

~~~

Taglist:

@plinamiismyotp @elementalshadowwitch @idkanameatall @zaisling @sunshineandspecs @bucketsofclams

#foundhomefic #findingfamilyfic #sanders sides fic #human sanders sides #loxiety #logan sanders/virgil sanders

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pennylanefics · 5 years

Text

My girls - Gwilym Lee

a/n: gif by @mazzelloplots :) i was having feels for gwil, specifically dad!gwil after she made this set, so i wrote this! i finished it at 4 in the morning bc i was so in my feels 😂 also just want to say another congratulations to gwil and his fiancée on their engagement!! ❤️

•••

Nine months ago, you and Gwilym found out you were pregnant. It was a whirlwind of emotions, after experiencing a miscarriage during your first pregnancy, you were a bit scared to try again. But, once you fell pregnant once more, and your doctor confirmed there shouldn’t be any more problems after a certain point, you were extremely happy. And so was Gwil. He was so excited to tell everyone, and of course the boys were excited when they found out.

Gwilym decided to take a year long hiatus from acting to focus on you and your pregnancy. He wanted to be there for every moment, from when the baby started kicking, to finding out the gender, to all of the songagrams and doctors visits. You were thankful for that, although you hated that he was putting aside his passion. He kept assuring you that he was fine, he can still work on small projects around the city, but nothing international or too far away.

At the moment, you were about thirty-eight weeks, and ready to pop at any moment. Your doctor had ordered you to be on bed rest for the next few days, as your due date was quickly approaching. Gwilym was waiting on you hand and foot, getting you tea or water when you needed it, helping you get up to go to the bathroom, which you did quite frequently because your baby thinks your bladder is a toy. He even helped you take baths, in which he of course sat with you while you bathed. You would be relaxing under the warm water, your muscles untensing, and Gwil would sit right next to the tub, one hand on your swollen belly the entire time.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Gwilym whispered against your stomach one night. Your due date was two days away, but you had a feeling that she was going to be here sooner. That suspicion was confirmed when you felt a sudden pressure in your abdomen and a wet spot appear underneath you. Your eyes widened as you turned to Gwilym, who had a terrified expression on his face.

“Looks like you’re gonna meet her sooner than you thought,” you said to your husband as he jumped up, running to the corner of the room to grab the prepped hospital bag, then rummaging through your drawers to get you a clean pair of clothes.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you changed and to the hospital,” Gwilym said as he helped you stand. You noticed his hands were shaking as he held onto you. You paused, which confused Gwil.

“Calm down, babe. Everything’s going to be okay.” He nodded at your words, taking a deep breath before helping you out of your soaked pants. He speedily ran to the bathroom to grab a towel and clean you off before slipping on a new pair of underwear and a pair of his sweats on.

“You ready to go?” Gwilym asked as you finally made it down the stairs and to the door.

“Yeah, let’s go have a baby,” you told him excitedly, smiling widely up at him. His lips curled into a huge smile as well as he stopped to press a kiss to your lips.

“I love you, and I love this little one already,” he spoke softly, a hand reaching up to rub your contracting stomach. The sweet moment was interrupted by a strong contraction coursing through your body. You screamed out and clutched your stomach, which prompted Gwilym to help you out to the car quickly.

You arrived at the hospital in speedy time, you were shocked Gwilym didn’t get pulled over. Now, he was helping you out of the car and handing the keys to the valet driver, who wished you good luck and hopped in the car to park it. You slowly made your way into the building, Gwilym’s hand resting on your back as he guided you to the front desk.

“Hi, my wife is having a baby. We should have a private room reserved,” Gwilym said to the lady behind the computer. She clicked and typed away for a minute, before telling you to follow the nurse that had appeared next to you with a wheelchair. You thanked her quietly and sat down, your muscles relaxing a bit, but that was short lived due to another contraction hitting you. Gwil was right next to you, holding your hand as you squeezed it tightly. You didn’t care, and neither did he.

Sooner than you thought, you were stopped right in front of a room. Gwilym opened the door and the nurse rolled you in. She locked the wheels and she helped you up, handing you a gown to change into. She left you alone for a moment as Gwil helped you out of your clothes and into the gown, pausing to guide you through a contraction.

“It’s alright, love. You’re alright. It’ll be over soon and we’ll have our little baby girl in our arms,” he whispered in your ear as his hands rested on your swollen stomach. You nodded as tears fell down your cheeks. He helped you settle onto the bed and covered you with the thin sheet. He pressed the button for the nurse, to signal you two were ready, and she arrived within seconds.

“Everything okay?” She asked as she stepped into the room. You nodded a little and grabbed Gwil’s hand for comfort.

“Your contractions are about ten minutes apart, I see,” she stated after she had hooked you up to everything, and the IV was now stuck in your hand. You nodded again and closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to relax yourself. You were starting to feel tired as it was nearing midnight, and you had yet to fall asleep.

“Is it okay if I take a nap for a little?” You asked her as she continued writing a few things down on a clipboard.

“Of course. You have a long night ahead of you, and we’d rather you not pass out during the delivery. Sleep as much as you want, but once ten centimeters comes, you need to push.” You thanked her quietly, when suddenly the doctor came in.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee. I’m Dr. Smith, I’ll be one delivering your baby,” she greeted you with a smile. You smiled back and gave her a small nod.

“Are you excited to become a mum?” She asked as she checked over the clipboard the nurse just finished. You chuckled a little, trying to be positive through the pain.

“As excited as I can be during these contractions.” She laughed along as well and put on a pair of gloves.

“I’m going to check how much you are dilated,” she said before slipping her hand under the cover. Gwilym was right next to you, holding your hand and stroking your hair softly.

“You’re about four centimeters, so you’ve got a bit over halfway to go. For now, get some rest, only eat ice chips and drink lots of water, alright?” You nodded at her commands as she left, leaving you and Gwilym alone for the time being.

“Want to watch some TV while you try to get some sleep, love?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Gwilym turned the TV on to your favorite channel, where, surprisingly and ironically, Bohemian Rhapsody was playing, and it had just started. Smiles erupted on both of your faces as Gwil began to call everyone he knew. First his parents, then his grandparents, and finally, the cast. He first called Ben, then Joe, then Rami and Lucy, and finally Allen and Jessica. Only Ben would be the godfather, after a long and tough conversation. Joe was alright with it, considering he was still going to be an uncle, and he knew how close you and Ben were, and you lived relatively close to him.

Time passed by slowly, eventually coming to be around two in the morning. Your contractions started to become closer and closer, thankfully you were able to get an epidural, so that took most of the pain away. It didn’t take the pressure away.

“Okay, you’re at ten centimeters. Ready to start pushing?” Dr. Smith asked you with a smile as she prepped you and the room for delivery. There was a group of nurses surrounding you and Gwilym, who was still stood beside you. He had a wet rag and was occasionally wiping the sweat away from your forehead, sometimes leaning down to whisper encouraging words to you.

“Okay (Y/N), you’re gonna push for ten seconds, then rest until the next contraction. Ready?” She began the countdown as you pushed as hard as you could. One of Gwilym’s hands was resting on your back, the other under your thigh, helping you push.

“Good, Mrs. Lee. Get ready in, five, four, three, two, one, and push,” you pushed once again, tears springing to your eyes as the pressure was unbearable.

After three pushes, you still had a long way to go.

“Gwil, baby, I can’t do this,” you sobbed out, wiping the hair away from your eyes. His hands replaced yours as his lips pressed against your forehead.

“Yes you can, love. You are the strongest woman I know, you can do this. Just think, with a few more pushes, we’ll have our baby girl, our little family. You just have to keep pushing, babe. You can’t back out now,” he joked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You nodded and closed your eyes, leaning into his hand.

“Alright, (Y/N). I’m gonna need another push in three, two, one.” You pushed as hard as you could, holding your breath as the ten seconds counted one.

“We have a head!” Dr. Smith announced, looking up at you excitedly. Hormonal tears fell from your eyes as you were now filled with joy and eager.

“Just a few more pushes, okay?” You nodded and continued the process, listening to Gwil’s sweet words of encouragement the entire time; you were only focused on his voice at this point.

“One final push! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten!” With the final count, your body fell limp against the bed, legs still in the stirrups, as a loud cry resonated through the nearly silent room.

“Oh m god!” Gwilym sobbed out as he got a first look at his newborn daughter. You were sobbing even harder at this point, exhaustion taking over you, but you wanted to stay awake.

“It’s a girl. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Lee,” Dr. Smith announced, holding her up a little so you could see.

“Would you like to cut the cord, dad?” A nurse asked as she held out a pair of some type of medical tool. He nodded and walked over, snipping right where she told him to. Once your baby was cleaned off a little, she was placed on your bare chest, every single emotion hitting you at once. Gwilym stood right next to you, staring down at your beautiful creation.

The moment didn’t last for long as she was taken away by a nurse to be measured, weighed, and cleaned.

“You did so good, love. I’m so proud of you,” Gwilym pulled you into his arms, crying into your hair. You didn’t care, you were a mess and a few tears wouldn’t matter. A couple nurses began to clean you up and prepare you for recovery. They cleaned between your legs, making sure nothing had gone wrong ‘down there’, and removed your legs from the stirrups. You felt extremely uncomfortable, but all you could think about was your daughter.

You were a mom. Gwil was a dad. You couldn’t believe it.

“Here she is, Mrs. Lee. Congratulations,” a nurse walked over to you, handing you your newborn. A new set of tears fell from your eyes as everything felt real. Gwilym sat on the bed next to you, careful not to hurt you.

“She’s beautiful,” he whimpered, a hand reaching up to caress her tiny head. As much as you wanted to stare at her and bask in the glory of your newly formed family, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Love, get some sleep. You just gave birth, you’ve barely had any rest in the past six hours, you deserve it.” You shook your head, reluctant to leave your husband and daughter.

“Wanna spend time with you two,” you moaned out, leaning into his body.

“Actually, we are going to take her overnight so you two can get some rest,” a nurse announced as she walked in.

“It’s mandatory for the first night,” she apologized for the protocall, but you were kind of relieved.

“We’ll try breastfeeding in the morning,” she said lastly before leaving your room with the small bassinet carrying your newborn.

“Lay with me?” You reached out for your husband, who was preparing to sleep in the chair next to you. He nodded and slid onto the bed with you, pulling you into his chest, holding you close.

“I love you, (Y/N). I am so unbelievably proud of you,” he whispered in your ear as you closed your eyes, falling asleep as soon as you did.

—

“Welcome home Macy May Lee,” Gwilym cooed at your daughter, who was lying in her carseat as he stepped inside your home. You waddled slowly behind him, still sore from delivery a couple days ago.

“Are you alright, love? Need any help?” Gwilym asked as he looked behind him. You waved him off, practically capable of walking inside by yourself. Once you closed the door, everything became real again. You were terrified you wouldn’t be a good mother. You knew Gwilym was going to be a great father, he’s always been good with kids. You on the other hand, weren’t.

“Let me help you upstairs so you can rest,” Gwilym said to you as he grabbed Macy’s carseat and brought her up with him. With every step you took, you winced at the ache between your legs.

You eventually made it to the top, and immediately went straight into your bedroom to lay in bed. Gwilym followed, since Macy’s small crib was temporarily in your room. He took her from the carseat as you plopped softly onto the bed, crawling under the covers.

“Gonna get some rest before she needs to be fed again,” you announced quietly, falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Gwilym joined you after staring down at his daughter for a few minutes, making sure she was okay for the time being.

After what seemed like five minutes, a loud cry pierced through the air, immediately waking you and Gwil.

“I’ll get her,” he told you, slightly pushing your shoulder to keep you in bed.

“She’s probably hungry, Gwil.”

“And I will bring her over to you. I’ll get you your pillow as well.” You sighed and tiredly lowered your shirt so that one breast was out. Gwilym walked over with Macy in his arms, gently handing her over to you as he quickly retrieved your breastfeeding pillow. He helped you situate the item, and let you do your thing as he watched you intently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, tracing a finger along your forearm. You rolled your eyes and looked to him.

“I just had a baby, I have yet to take a shower, and I have one boob out of my shirt,” you retaliated. In no way were you beautiful. You looked awful, and you felt awful.

“You just had my baby, our baby, and that itself is beautiful,” he said lovingly.

“You’re so cheesy, babe.” He chuckled and shook his head.

After you finished feeding Macy, Gwilym burped her gently for you as you rested a little more before taking a shower.

—

The feeling of hot water and being clean never felt so good before. You finally felt one thousand times better.

You left the bathroom, which was connected to your room, and walked over to your bed. Your eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t see Gwilym or Macy. You slowly walked into the hall, listening for his soft voice. When you reached Macy’s nursery, you heard his voice sound through the small room.

“This is where you are going to sleep when you get a bit older, yeah? But for now, we want to keep you in our room, with us. We just love you so much, we want to be as close to you as possible,” he chuckled quietly. You pushed the door open a little more, as it was already cracked. Gwilym was sat in the rocking chair, with Macy in his arms as he slowly rocked back and forth.

“I can’t believe I’m a dad, it feels unreal. I made you with my beautiful wife, I can’t believe this, wow.” He stared down in awe at his daughter, which brought tears to your eyes. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you decided to continue listening to him.

“Little miss Macy May, I love you so much already. I can’t wait to tell you the story of how you got your middle name one day.” You had chosen May due to the fact that Gwil played Brian, and it was a life-changing experience for him. Brian has also become a great friend of his, and he wanted to honor that by naming the middle name after him.

“I can’t wait till you get older so I can teach you so many things. Like playing the guitar, playing football, playing cricket, which I know your mum would resent me for,” he chuckled again. You laughed along and that’s when Gwilym noticed you. His cheeks tinted pink slightly as he was caught.

“Hello mama,” he whispered and waved you over. Yournheart fluttered at the new nickname as you walked over to him and sat down on the small ottoman right in front of the chair.

“You’re such a good dad already, Gwil,” you told him quietly. He smiled widely and nodded.

“I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life. Holding the most beautiful thing that I’ve created with the woman that I love more than anything.” Tears fell from your eyes as you stared at your family adoringly.

Gwilym guided you back to your room after he noticed how exhausted you still looked. Once he set Macy in her crib, she fell right asleep.

“Gwil?” You asked in a whisper. He hummed as he pulled you into his arms.

“What if I’m not a good mother?” You wondered. He stared down at you in shock that you were even thinking you wouldn’t be a good mom.

“You’re kidding, right? You are going to be the best mum you can be, and it’ll be a damn good one, that’s for sure. I promise you, we may not be perfect, but it’ll be perfect for us. You’re already a good mum, I don’t know why you would think you wouldn’t be?” You shrugged, suddenly not feeling in the mood to talk about it.

“My hormones are still going crazy, sorry,” you apologized quietly. Gwilym shook his head at your apology.

“Nonsense, love. Get some sleep, I can tell you really need it. We both do, yeah?” You nodded and cuddled into his chest.

“I love you Gwil,” you whispered one last time before falling asleep for the second time today.

“I’ll always love you, baby. It’s you, me, and Macy for the rest of our lives, love. My girls.”

•••

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagines #dad!gwil #gwilym lee x reader #brian may #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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theycallmebeccawrites · 5 years

Text

Adventures in Parenting - Chris’s to Do List: Friday

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Nikki Evans (OFC)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: graphic sex, language

Summary: Day 5 of Chris & Nikki checking things off Chris’s “To Do” list while their kids are at day camp.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Chris’s To Do List Masterlist | Chris & Nikki Masterlist

Chris’s To Do List: Thursday

Chris’s to Do List: Friday

Friday, July 17, 2020

Chris opened his eyes and stared up at the dark ceiling as he yawned. He wasn't sure what had caused him to wake up until he felt a cold, wet nose press against his ear followed by the whimper of a dog that needed to be let out.

"Alright, alright," Chris groaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position, trying hard not to disturb his still sleeping wife. Unsure of where his shorts had ended up the night before, he led the dogs upstairs sans clothes.

Opening the backdoor in the kitchen, Chris let the dogs outside and noticed that the sky was a silky, midnight blue color. Glancing back at the clock on the wall, he noted that it was just after 4:30 in the morning.

Looking back out at the early morning sky, Chris recalled the first sunrise he and Nikki had seen together. They'd been engaged for about six weeks and he'd been in living in Los Angeles for work, so she'd come out to spend Valentine's Day with him. He'd taken her out to a nice restaurant and then they'd gone to the beach closest to his house.

They'd carried blankets and a bottle of wine down to sand and he'd built them a small bonfire to help keep the mid-February chill from ruining their evening. They had then spent the whole night talking as they passed the bottle of wine back and forth between them, drinking it straight from the bottle like two classy people. They'd stayed on the beach until the sun had come up and then he'd taken her home, put her in a hot shower and then had taken her to bed, where they'd slept well into the afternoon.

Smiling at the memory, Chris pushed himself away from the door and headed back down to the basement to wake up his wife. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the pitch black lighting of the basement as he slowly made his way to the couch where she slept.

Climbing back on to the sofa, he stretched out on his side, aligning his body with hers. "Nik, babe, wake up," he whispered in her ear. He pressed his lips against her bare shoulder. "Nikki..."

"Go away," she mumbled in reply. "I'm sleeping."

"You wouldn't be talking if you were still asleep," he teased as he slid his hand under the blanket that covered her naked body. "But you should get up, I have surprise for you."

"Morning sex isn't a surprise, Chris," she replied, pressing her bum back against his manhood and wiggling slightly.

Chris chuckled and reached his hand up to cup one of her breasts. "This is special morning sex," he told her. "You just have to get up and go upstairs with me."

"Fine," she replied.

Chris climbed off the couch and spotted his t-shirt on the floor. Picking it up, he turned to her and helped her put it on after she'd gotten off the couch.

"What about my panties?" she asked, sleepily.

"We'll get them and my shorts later," Chris replied as he led her up the stairs. Instead of leading her out the door he'd let the dogs out of, he led her to the doors that led to their screen in porch that overlooked their backyard.

The sky had lightened slightly to a dark blue with tiny hints of other colors beginning to appear.

"Oh, Chris," Nikki said as she took in the sight. "Sunrise."

"It made me think of the date we had the first time you visited me in California," he told her. He led her over to one of the large, wicker couches and laid down on it before motioning for her to join him in a spooning position.

They laid there quietly for several minutes until she reached up and grabbed his right hand. She then guided his hand with her own to apex of her thighs. She raised her right leg up and bent it over his legs before placing his large hand over her sex.

"Do you need me to do something?" he asked teasingly. He nipped her neck playfully as he ghosted his fingers over her womanhood.

"You promised me morning sex," she reminded him. "Special, even."

"The special part is the view," he told her as he slipped a finger between her heated folds. Using his thumb, he teased her sensitive nub, making her moan.

As his fingers slipped between her womanhood, Nikki turned her head towards him as she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. She ran her tongue over his lips and then covered them with her own.

It took some shifting, but Chris slid his other hand around her neck and grabbed a handful of her breasts through the t-shirt she still wore, making her moan into his mouth.

Overcome by the desire that his hands were causing in her body, Nikki pulled away from his mouth and pressed her forehead against his as little noises escaped her lips. Eyes closed, she tilted her head back and bit down on her lower lip as his fingers slid in and out of her sex rapidly.

Wrapping her hands around the hand that Chris had attached to her breast, Nikki held on as her body moved of its own accord with Chris's thrusts.

She whimpered as he removed his fingers from her depths and moaned when he quickly replaced them with his hard manhood.

With the hand that had been between her legs, he moved her leg higher up on his hip, allowing him deeper entry into her sex. He put extra effort into thrusting into her with his hips as they laid side by side on the wicker sofa.

Outside their bubble of sex, the sky was beginning to lighten with beautiful shades of purple, pink and orange chasing the darkness away.

Nikki watched it happened through unfocused eyes as Chris continued to pump in and out of her, his tempo increasing with each thrust.

Knowing they were both near their climaxes, he shifted her body so the leg that had been thrown over his own was in a bent position in front of her. Using one of his hands, he held her leg in place while the other hand found one of her hands. Then he buried his face into her neck and began to thrust into her with all the power he could muster.

Her cries carried out of the screened porch as she reached up and cradled the back of his head with her hand. Her small breasts jiggled with the extra force he was carrying with his thrusts.

In mere minutes, she felt his body tighten behind her and felt him shoot his seed into her sex. He slowed his thrusts and the fingers of his hand that was holding onto her leg slipped down and teased her sensitive nub. That proved to be her undoing and she body shook as she came.

Exhausted, Chris and Nikki unwound their body parts as best they could without actually getting off the couch and laid there in silence as the sun began to peek over the horizon. They watched as it inched its way up, flooding the area around them in its glorious glow.

"I love you," Chris whispered.

"I love you, too," Nikki replied.

She turned her face towards him again and he brought his hand up to cradle her neck as he leaned in for another kiss that quickly turned into an early morning make out session.

It was the barking of the dogs that forced them apart and got them moving.

"You let the dogs in," Chris told her. "I'll go take care of everything downstairs."

Nikki nodded as she stifled a yawn. She pulled down the hem of his shirt that she was wearing so everything was covered and then stood up. They made their way into the house and she let the dogs in via the backdoor. She then filled their food and water dishes before making her way upstairs to hers and Chris's room.

After taking care of her bathroom needs, she came back into the bedroom and saw that Chris hadn't come in yet. Crawling across the bed to his side, she opened the top drawer of his bedside table and pulled out the list and the pen he'd put in there with it.

Leaning back against the headboard, she pulled the lid off the pen and went down his list, putting check marks next to the Dining Room, Screened Porch and the Powder Room. She was in the process of putting a check mark by the Family Room when Chris came in.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, dropping onto the bed at her feet.

"Checking things off your list," she replied with a smile.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd been enjoying fucking all over the house," Chris teased, his blue eyes sparkling with enjoyment.

"I always like having sex with you," she replied. "And it was kind of fun having sex in places we probably shouldn't…"

"It's our house," Chris said as he grabbed the list and put it on his bedside table before stretching out next to her. "We can have sex wherever the fuck we want to. Hell! We can have sex whenever we want to, too."

Nikki shook her head and then snuggled up against him. "We can't have sex right now," she told him. "Because someone woke me up at four fucking thirty and I'm still sleepy."

"I'm surprised your alarm hasn't gone off yet," Chris commented as he wrapped an arm around her.

"That's because I switched it to a 7 am alarm since we didn't have to get up with the kids," she replied. "Now hush, I can sleep for another hour."

Smiling, Chris pressed his lips to her forehead and then closed his eyes.

Sleep overtook Nikki quickly, but it wouldn't come to Chris.

After a half an hour, he gave up trying to go back to sleep and got out of bed, trying carefully not to wake Nikki. He quietly made his way into the bathroom and took a quick shower. After that, he went into the closet and pulled on a pair of clean Calvin Klein's. Then, before leaving his and Nikki's room, he wrote her a quick note and left it on his pillow then he went downstairs.

When Nikki's alarm went off a short while later, she turned it off and then rolled over to see that Chris had left the bed already. Yawning, she forced herself into a sitting position and scrunched up her nose when she saw the note on Chris's pillow. Reaching over, she grabbed it and read:

Nik,

I couldn't sleep so I went down stairs to make us some breakfast. Go take a shower and when you're done, I should be back with food.

Love,

Chris

Smiling, Nikki tucked the note into the top drawer of the bedside table on her side of the bed and then made her way to the bathroom. She took her time showering, letting the hot water ease her sore muscles. Once she was finished in the bathroom, she went into the closet and slipped on a floral nightie and a pair of panties.

Stepping into the bedroom, Nikki smiled when she saw that Chris had brought up a feast of breakfast dishes and had arranged an indoor picnic on their bedroom floor. He'd scrambled eggs, made toast, cooked bacon, fried hashbrowns and cut up fruit.

"Chris," she said laughing. "Don't you think you made too much food?"

"I'm hungry," he replied with a shrug. "I'm a growing boy."

Rolling her eyes, Nikki lowered herself to the floor and grabbed a crispy piece of bacon while Chris grabbed a less crispy one.

They took their time eating their breakfast with Nikki stopping long before Chris. Therefore, it was no surprise to her when he stretched out on the floor complaining about eating way too much.

While he laid on the floor moaning and groaning, Nikki gathered up the dishes and carried them downstairs to the kitchen. Since Chris had cleaned while he'd cooked, she only had to load the dishwasher and start it. She then went into the laundry room and started a load of laundry before she made her way back upstairs.

Walking into the bedroom, she found Chris napping with the dogs at his side and Sadie laying on his chest. Shaking her head, Nikki walked around them and headed into the closet to put her clothes away. When she finished that task, she then turned to cleaning out items out of her closet that she hadn't worn in a while or didn't think she'd ever wear again.

There was a large pile of clothes on the bench when Chris came into the closet a half hour later. He raised his eyebrows and then furrowed them when he spotted something among the clothes she was getting rid of. He dug through the pile and unearthed a well-worn charcoal sweater.

"You're getting rid of this?" he asked with a frown. "Why?"

"I haven't worn it for a long time," she replied. "And we're headed into winter, there are people out there that need it more than I do."

"You were wearing this sweater the first time we had sex," he said, staring down at the sweater fondly.

"I was, but that's the best part about memories, Chris, we don't have to hold on to the actual items to remember them."

Carefully, she removed the sweater from his hands and placed it back on the pile.

"There is something, however, that we can do."

Taking his hand, she led him through their bedroom and across the hall to the guest bedroom. She opened the door and pulled him inside.

"This furniture," she said, gesturing to the white bed frame and mirrored dresser. "Was in my tiny condo that day we first had sex and in our bedroom at our first house here in Boston." She placed her hand on his chest. "Now, tell me I have legs for days and that you want me to wrap them around your waist as you fuck me."

Chris smirked down as he cupped her face with his large hands. Instinctively, he lowered his head as she raised herself up on her tip toes for their mouths to meet. As they kissed, his hands slid down her body and he picked her up with ease.

Wrapping her legs around Chris's waist, Nikki wrapped her arms around his neck and nibbled on his lower hip.

Chris quickly closed the distance between the door and the bed and climbed on with Nikki still attached to him. He pressed her body into the mattress and rocked his hips forward letting their privates touch through their clothes.

Needing more the just subtle touches, Nikki unwrapped her legs from Chris's body and moved her hands down his body to pull at the boxer briefs he was wearing. Taking the hint, Chris pulled away from her and pulled the offending material off while she slipped her panties off.

Leaning back over her body, Chris slipped his hands up the bottom of her nightie and brushed his hands against her sex, making her whimper. He felt her rock her hips against his touch and couldn't help but lean down and captured her kiss-swollen lips with his mouth.

Wanting him inside of her, Nikki lifted her legs and locked them around his waist, effectively trapping his lower body to hers. She felt him chuckle against her lips, but the chuckle quickly turned into a moan as his hand guided his manhood into her.

Their bodies moved together in a wall-practiced manner, but he quickly realized he wanted to be deeper in her.

"Move your legs," he said between thrusts. "To my neck."

Nikki unlocked her ankles and lifted her legs so her calves were resting on his shoulders, taking advantage of her years of yoga training. He then leaned forward and helped hold her legs in place with his biceps as he pounded into her.

"Oh god," she moaned at the new sensations that came from this position.

Chris groaned as her body pulled him deeper and he leaned down to kiss her. Putting all the extra feelings he could muster into the kiss as he pounded in and out of her.

It wasn't long before Nikki broke the kiss and began to pant as her body prepared for its release. Chris urged her along and thrust into her one last night before she came around his hard manhood, forcing his own release to shoot inside of her.

Carefully, Chris unfolded Nikki from the position they were in and then rolled onto his side next to her.

"That was fun," she said with a soft giggle. "Even if I did feel like a pretzel."

"I've seen you do more complicated shit when you do yoga," Chris said with a smirk.

Nikki smiled and rolled onto her side so she could rest her head on his chest. "We should probably get up, shower and get dressed for the day."

"Or we could just lay here for a bit longer," Chris replied.

"You can't be tired again, Chris," Nikki said with a laugh. "You just woke up from a nap!"

"Me being exhausted after a good fucking is a compliment to you, babe," Chris said. "It means we did real good."

Nikki rolled her eyes but reached over him and grabbed the old fashioned alarm clock from the bedside table. She quickly set it, having to pause in the process to bat Chris's hands away from her breasts, then placed it back down.

"When that alarms goes off, we're getting up, taking showers and getting on with what is left of our day," she told Chris firmly. "I still have to make cookies for the camp potluck tonight."

Chris opened his arms wide and she settled in them as they shared a pillow. Her eyes grew heavy with sleep and she quickly passed out.

The alarm rudely awoke them thirty minutes later and they both sluggishly climbed off the bed. She grabbed their discarded undies and carried them with her as she led him back to their bedroom.

She tossed the underwear and her nightie into the laundry sorter and then went into the bathroom for her second shower of the day. She and Chris took advantage of the shower heads on opposite sides of the shower to make quick work of their bathing needs.

After showering, they made their way into the closet and each picked out the outfit they planned to wear to the end of day camp family picnic. Nikki selected a pair of jean capris, a light pink sleeveless top and a lightweight cream color jacket. She then grabbed a pair of baby pink KEDS to wear with it.

As she was putting the final touches on her outfit, Chris came around the corner dressed in a pair of dark jeans with a gray-blue, long sleeved, plaid shirt open over a pale blue henley. To top it all off, he'd put on a pair of the yellow work boots he loved so much.

"Chris, you do realize it's like 80 degrees outside, right?" Nikki said as she gave him a glance over.

"I'll be fine," Chris assured her.

A few hours later, Chris was behind the wheel on his way to pick up his mom and Rachel who were attending the open house part of the day camp potluck with him and Nikki. His sister Carly, her husband and Nikki's parents would be joining them later for the actual meal as the two men were still at the construction site.

Upon arriving at his mom's house, Nikki gave up her front seat to sit in the back with their daughter. She belted the little girl in and then listened as the blonde told her all about the last couple days.

A part of Chris wished he could be in the backseat chatting with his girls, but he knew there would be time of that later this evening. He had loved spending the last thirty-six hours with his wife, but he couldn't wait to get to the camp and see their boys.

The camp parking lot was already beginning to fill up when they arrived and it took them nearly ten minutes to find a parking spot. Then they unloaded their cooler and other suppliers out of the back. He manned the cooler while Nikki held onto Rachel's hand and his mom carried a couple bags.

They hunted down a picnic spot big enough for their group of eleven and then his mom led Rachel over to the arts and crafts tent while Chris and Nikki headed over to where the campers were waiting to be released to their parents or guardians.

After collecting Josh, Aiden and Stella, Chris and Nikki let the kids lead them around the camp, showing off their favorite places. For Nikki, it was a bit of a homecoming because she and Dana had spent a couple summers working at the camp in their teens. For Chris, however, it was all brand new. Josh had attended the camp the year before, but Chris had been in Los Angeles filming on the night of the family potluck and hadn't been able to make it back in time.

They'd just turned back up the trail to head back to camp when the bells chimed, signaling that it was time for everyone to return to the main grassy area.

"Daddy, will you carry me?" Aiden asked.

Smiling, Chris squatted down so his son could get onto his back and then stood up once the boy was securely on his back.

The five of them quickly made their way back to the main area and found it packed with campers and their families. Spotting the rest of their group, they made their way over to them and Chris deposited Aiden into the outstretched arms of his father-in-law.

They took their seats on the blankets they'd laid out earlier and listened as one of the camp leaders began to talk. He told them all about the fun they'd had the past week and what a blessing everyone's kids had been, which got an awkward chuckle from the parents who knew their kids had been anything but.

Finally, he explained the process for getting dinner and then excused the sections one by one to get food. There were multiple food areas setup and each appeared to have a different collection of food.

When their group was excused to get food, they made their way to the tables and got in line. They quickly assigned each of the kids to an adult who helped them dish their food and then helped carry it back to their area.

Once they were all seated again and eating, Stella turned to Nikki and asked, "Aunt Nikki, when are you going to have another baby?" Her question caught them all by surprise, but it was the next part that cracked them up. "Cause I want another baby, but daddy says that mommy is closed for business."

"Stella!" Carly exclaimed, a flush flooding her face as the others laughed. She then turned and punched her husband in the arm.

Clearing her throat, Nikki turned to her curious niece and said, "I'm not sure when Uncle Chris and I will have another baby. It's possible we might not, but I don't think our family is done having babies. Aunt Lacie and Aunt Sophia are still young and not married yet. By the time they have kids, you'll be old enough to babysit."

"I forgot about them," Stella replied seriously. "And I'll baby sit. But I'm not changing any stinky diapers." She made a disgusted face and waved her hand in front of her nose. "That won't be part of my contract!"

The adults laughed again and only quieted when the camp director got up to speak again. He asked the campers to come up front and stand with their counsellors. As his voice echoed through the speakers, there was a mass rising as three hundred kids got up and hurried towards the front.

For the next thirty minutes the family and friends of the campers were treated with a lively concert of silly camp songs that had Rachel standing on the blanket in front of Chris attempting to do the hand gestures that went along with each song.

"The three of them were practicing most of the night," Chris's mom said. "And she was helping them."

Once the kids were done performing, they were excused to return to their parents. The camp director then invited everyone to stay and visit as well as get dessert before they left.

Chris and Nikki's family stayed for a little longer, but soon Rachel was yawning and didn't want to be held by anyone but Chris. It made their task of getting everything back to the vans more difficult as the little girl pitched a fit at the mere idea of Nikki holding her.

It took nearly a half an hour, but they managed to get their van packed and get all three kids in the vehicle. Nikki fished Rachel's sleepy time blanket and teddy out of her overnight bag, finding the wand that the little girl had smuggled to grandma's in the process, and gave them to the little girl in hopes she'd fall asleep on the way home.

"You're such a pushover," Nikki teased Chris once they were both in the van. Leaning over, she gave him a small peck on the lips. "But I still love you."

Settling back into her seat, she turned on some quiet music and leaned back.

The first few minutes of the drive were stressful as Rachel continued to whimper, but soon the calming music and the steady motion of the car put her to sleep.

Arriving home, Chris carried Rachel straight up to her bed, not bothering to change her out of her dirty clothes. Meanwhile, Nikki ushered the boys into the house and made them take off their dirty, sweaty clothes in the laundry room before sending them upstairs to take showers with towels wrapped around their waists.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest day ever, the four of them piled onto the couch in the reading nook. Instead of reading a story, however, they let the boys each share a couple stories from their week at camp.

After seeing the boys to bed, Chris and Nikki retired to their own room where they changed clothes and then crawled into bed.

With one last room to check off, Chris took out the list and drew the check mark.

"We're done," Nikki said with a smile.

"It just means we'll have to come up with a new list," Chris replied. "But maybe one that lasts for more than a week."

"A new list?" she repeated. "Of places to do it?"

"Oh, that's perfect," Chris said as he turned the paper over. "Ok, so we've done it in Boston, obviously. Los Angeles. Oh, there was that time in New York City."

Shaking her head, Nikki kissed his cheek and then rolled onto her side. She closed her eyes and tried to block out his voice as he made a list of the places in the world where they'd had sex and the places that they needed to visit and have sex in.

The List

Kitchen ✔

Dining Room ✔

Screened Porch ✔

Living Room ✔

Office ✔

Powder Room ✔

Butler’s Pantry ✔

Laundry Room ✔

Upstairs Guestroom ✔

Walk in Closet ✔

Home Gym ✔

Den/Playroom ✔

Family Room ✔

Basement Guestroom ✔

Chris’s To Do List: Bonus

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #adventures in parenting #chris and nikki #chris evans x ofc #chris evans as a dad #chris evans x original female character

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princesstreaclefanfic · 6 years

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Chapter Thirty-Two

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Bella

I walked cautiously to the door, my heart in my mouth as I remembered where I knew the face at the door from. She was the vampire who had drank Mike, she was the one who started his killing spree, who sent him over the edge – I’d seen it from his memories. She was the one who ultimately got my Grandfather killed. What the fuck was she doing here?

When I got the front door, I noticed she was flanked by two ‘guards’, both of them dressed in black suits and staring straight ahead. Neither of them seem to even acknowledge Rose or I.

“Isabella, Rosalie, may I have a word?” She asked as her eyes scanned over us, her face not giving anything away.

“Who the hell are you?” Rose asked, arms crossing over her chest as she took up a defensive stance.

“She’s the one who drank from Mike,” I gently told Rose, Rose’s eyes shooting to mine.

The vampire at the door giggled. “He was such a wonderful meal, blood was very sweet. But I’m not here to discuss him – I want to talk about you two.”

“I’ll ask again; who are you?” Rose demanded.

“My name is Heidi. I am the Queen of Washington.” Fear ran through me as I realised just who she was.

Swallowing my fear and standing tall, I stood shoulder to shoulder with Rose, “What do you want?”

“I have a very interesting story to tell you – one that concerns you and Edward.”

“We don’t have to listen to this,” Rose retorted, putting her hand on the door as she got ready to shut (or slam) it in Heidi’s face.

“No you don’t,” Heidi responded. “But you should, because when you hear it, you’ll never look at him the same way again. He’s been lying to you Isabella, he’s been lying to you from the start.”

There was something in her voice, something that made me put my own hand on the door and stop Rose from shutting it. I wanted to listen to what she had to say.

“Bella...” Rose started but I shook my head, my eyes staring into Heidi’s.

“Shall I start from the beginning?” I nodded, unable to speak.

“It all began with Mike; he was out with his friends on the town when he came across me. I do love a youthful man! He had such a baby face.” She paused as if reminiscing. “At the end of the night I got him alone... he had no idea what I was, not until I cornered him anyway. When he started to put up a fight, I glamoured him – makes them much more pliable – and whilst I was drinking, he began to ramble on about these girls, and how they were magical. He was quite fond of you Isabella! Anyway, he went on and on about how beautiful you were and then he started to talk about mind reading and how he wasn’t sure if it was a rumour or not. I stopped drinking at this point – I was suddenly very interested in what he had to say so I asked him about you. He gave me a lot of information. I knew I had to investigate. I had to find out what you were. But I’m the Queen of Washington, I don’t do my own dirty work, so I wanted one of my subjects to do it for me.” I suddenly had a very bad feeling where this was going.

“Edward wanted to move back the area so he seemed like the logical choice – I am the Queen, after all, no one can refuse me.” I began to feel like I was sinking. “I told him to do whatever it took to seduce either one of you – I didn’t care which one – hell he could have seduced both of you if he wanted. I just needed the information. Everything he has done for you is on my orders, everything ”

I couldn’t move. I was routed to the spot as my whole world began to turn upside down.

“Why are you telling us this?” Rose questioned in a shaky voice – she was asking the question I was too afraid to ask.

Heidi cocked her head and took us both in, the way she looked at us felt raw, like she was seeing more than just our outward appearances.

“Don’t think for one second I am telling you this for your own benefit. I’m telling you this to get even.” Heidi stepped closer to the door, a smile coming to her face, her fangs still showing. “You broke my heart when you staked Tanya; she was the love of my life... I just wanted to return the favour. I wanted you to know how it felt to have your heart broken – and I wanted to watch.” I couldn’t respond. Every fibre in my body felt numb, disconnected.

There was a rustling behind Heidi and she turned slightly her smile widening. I looked over her shoulder as tears began to form in my eyes and I saw Edward slowly approaching the house.

“Bella, what’s wrong?” he asked, eyes scanning between us, hardening when he landed on Heidi. “What have you done?” he growled, leaping up onto the porch as Heidi’s guards dropped their fangs and let out a low warning growl.

“I just told them the truth,” Heidi smirked. Edward’s attention turned back to me.

“Bella, please let me explain.” he stepped closer but I shook my head, stepping back into the house as tears ran down my face.

“Tell me she’s lying,” I begged. “Tell me it’s not true.” Edward didn’t respond, and for a few tense seconds, no one spoke, the air was still as the full gravity of the situation hit me. Edward moved forward, reaching his hand out as if you touch and comfort me, but I didn’t want it.

“Don’t!” I shouted, hurt radiating from my chest as the last few months ran through my mind. It had all been a lie. Everything. Every touch, every kiss was because he was told to. My heart was shattering into a million pieces.

“Please let me explain,” Edward begged, his eyes pleading with me, but I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. I didn’t want to give him the chance to talk his way back into my heart.

“My work here is done,” Heidi proudly announced before she spun on her heel and walked down the porch steps, leaving a mess of destruction in her wake. Just as she stepped off the last one, she turned back to us. “Oh, Edward? I no longer require your services,” with that, she sped off into the night.

Rose who had been silent turned to face me, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words.

“You need to leave,” I whispered as my throat felt scratchy and tight.

Edward shook his head and took a step closer to me once more. “I’m going to explain, Bella, and then if you want me to leave, I will.”

“No!” I shouted, anger joining the hurt I felt.

“What’s going on?” a deep voice boomed. I swiped the tears from my eyes and saw Emmett stood at the bottom of the porch, hands in his pockets as he took in the scene around him. His eyes flashed to Rosalie, checking she was alright before they raked over Edward and I.

“Your brother’s a liar!” I spat, turning on my heel to get away from it all.

I didn’t get very far before Edward had pushed past Rose and had got a hold of my arm. “We need to talk about this.”

I don’t know what happened I next, I don’t know where the anger came from it. It engulfed me, took over the hurt I felt until the heat was blazing through my body. I turned to face Edward, my lips pressed together in a thin line as the betrayal washed over me. With a scream, I let the anger out of my body, releasing the tension that had built up in my body.

One second Edward had a hold of my arm, and the next he was flying out the front door, a bright light having come from my palm and thrown him back. My fae powers. Rosalie looked at me, shocked whilst Emmett’s eyebrows had raised, almost touching his hairline.

I stalked out the door and towards Edward, stopping at the top of the porch steps.

“Do not come near me again – I have no interest in anything you have to say to me. I have given you time after time to tell me the chance, but you’ve just kept lying to me. This was the last straw!” Tears flowed from my eyes as I turned away, but Edward was on his feet and calling out to me.

“I was trying to protect you!”

That was it.

“I don’t need protecting! I’m not a child and I am more than capable of looking after myself – you chose not to tell me because you knew how I would react. You knew this would end badly for you, but you were too much of a coward to tell me. But that’s it now, we’re done.” I had stopped shouting, my voice going hoarse as I grew tired of this. “Heidi got her wish Edward, you’ve broken my heart.” I shook my head. “I rescind your invitation.” I didn’t want him coming into my home again.

I was done. I headed back into the house, tears running down my cheeks as I went upstairs and lay down in my bed. I could hear Emmett and Rosalie talking, Emmett’s deep voice mumbling to Rose as she mumbled back for a few minutes, before the front door shut and Rosalie laid down next to me in the bed.

She positioned herself behind me, wrapping her arms around me, comforting me and reminding me that I wasn’t alone. I had her.

“How could he?” I asked and the sobs building in my chest burst forward like a dam, rolling over my body as I tried to stifle them but couldn’t.

“I don’t know Bells, I don’t know,” Rose whispered, stroking my hair with one hand.

The sobs continued and I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I cried until I couldn’t anymore until my eyes were sore and dry and my head throbbed. We lay in silence in the dark until finally, my body succumbed to sleep, the darkness a welcome relief.

***

When I woke up, it was close to midnight, Rose had gone but had left a glass of water on the side and some painkillers which I happily took.

I got up, went to the bathroom and then walked downstairs, not quite sure what I was doing but not wanting to stay in my bedroom anymore. It reminded me too much of Edward and the times we’d made love.

In the living room was Rose. She was curled up in an armchair, a blanket around her shoulders and the table lamp on next to her. She was beautiful. She was my rock. Tears came to my eyes but I angrily swiped them away.

Feeling warm I stepped out the back, sitting down on the porch swing and gently rocking, listening to the creaking of the wood and the wind as it stirred up the leaves.

“I really need you, Grandpa,” I whispered. “I don’t know what to do.” When the tears came this time, I didn’t hold them back. I didn’t want to. No noise came out of my mouth as I cried, just tears dropping from my eyes and onto my cheeks.

“I loved him so much – I still fucking love him,” I sobbed, angry at myself for still having feelings for this man who had just shattered my world. “What do I do Grandpa... what do I do?” I felt his absence hang heavily in the air. I wanted his arm around me, his moustache tickling my face as he pressed a kiss to my temple, his ‘Old Spice’ aftershave filling my nose. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as my mind seemed so empty but completely full at the same time. I wanted it all to stop. “Please help me,” I whispered.

“It’s alright baby girl, I’m here.” My eyes shot open as saw my Grandfather stood in front of me, his face that of him when he was only fifty or so; his hair chocolate and his eyes bright as he wore his usual attire, a checked shirt, jeans and heavy boots.

“What?” I breathed, mouth open. I couldn’t believe it. “You’re dead – you died,” I whispered, not wanting to look away.

Grandpa just chuckled and walked closer. “I did, but that doesn’t mean that I left you – I’d never leave you and Rose, Bella.” Slowly his hand reached out and he touched my shoulder. Feeling him so real, so warm started a fresh bout of sobs as I launched myself into his arms.

Grandpa soothed me, running a hand up and down my back as he tucked me into his side and held me close. It felt good. It felt right.

“It’s going to be alright baby girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my hair. I couldn’t believe it. He felt so real.

Once I had started the sobs, I couldn’t stop them, snot running from my nose as tears ran from my eyes. I was so overwhelmed, so hurt.

“I’ve got you,” Grandpa whispered. “I’m going to make it all alright.” After he said these words I began to feel sleepy, incredibly so, and before I knew it, my eyes were closing and my body went lax, leaning into the warmth of my Grandfather. The only man who I knew I could depend upon.

***

My eyes were heavy, my mouth was dry and my head hurt. I felt like shit. With a groan, I pushed myself up, slightly surprised to see myself outside in a lush green field – this was most definitely not my back garden.

I turned my head and felt relief flow through me when I saw my Grandfather sat on a rock, watching me.

“Where are we?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and looking around, but not being able to recognise anything.

“Safe.” He got up and walked towards me. “Nothing can hurt you here.”

“I can’t stay here,” I told him. “Rose will be worried.”

Grandpa shook his head. “You can’t leave.” I was slightly taken aback by his response.

“Grandpa, I have to get back to Rose – I want to go back.”

Once more, he shook his head and stopped in front of me. “No you don’t,” he whispered, his hand coming up to touch my cheek as a light trickled out of his fingertips and into my body.

I began to protest before I felt a warmth settle over me, calming me and making me feel giddy.

“That’s better isn’t it?” Grandpa asked and I nodded, suddenly fascinated by my fingers. Had they always been so long? Did I always have nine... wait... ten... I had ten fingers.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked, gently taking my hand and pulling me towards the centre of the field.

I nodded, looking around me and trying to work out why everything was so bright.

Grandpa reached his hand up, and as if he was pulling back and invisible curtain and another world was revealed to me.

There was music, joyful, light music and trees, many, many trees and flowers. I let go of Grandpa’s hand and stepped through the ‘veil’, completely enchanted by the place.

I was greeted with a flurry of hands as I was pulled into the middle of a big circle of people. They were all beautiful, shining eyes and perfect faces.

I turned back to Grandpa feeling all floaty.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my brain foggy.

“You’re having fun,” he told me, hands in his pockets as he watched me.

I was having fun. A tall man had pulled me out of the circle as began to twirl me among the flowers, laughter bubbling up from my stomach as I felt free and light.

I kept being switched from different arms to different arms, some men, some women, all of them spinning me, dipping me and making me giggle with glee as we danced, the music invading my brain.

After what felt like an age, I sat down on a log. Giggling with joy as I watched all the people. They were fascinating, all of the women wearing dresses whilst the men wore light shirts and khaki trousers. None of them were wearing shoes. Realising this, and feeling left out, I kicked mine off, pressing my toes into the grass and giggling as the soles of my feet were tickled.

“The grass feels good,” I told no one in particular, reaching my hands down to touch the green strands. It felt soft and warm.

“Are you happy?” Grandpa asked, coming to sit down next to me. I nodded and when I looked at him, something looked funny – he looked blurry and fuzzy.

“You look funny,” I said as my hand reached out to touch his face. It connected with the skin that was warm and smooth, but as my fingers touched it, his face changed. It was no longer that of my Grandpa’s, but that of a strange person. I pulled back, not understanding what I was seeing. “You’re not my Grandpa,” I whispered, looking around to see if anyone else had a different face. They didn’t.

“No, I’m not,” the stranger said, his voice lower than Grandpa’s. His eyes were a topaz colour and his hair was a light blonde, his nose straight and lips full.

“Who are you?” I asked as I began to feel floaty again.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, placing his hand against mine as more light burst from his fingertips and into me once more. “You like it here don’t you, Bella?”

I looked around at the people dancing, listened to the music and nodded.

“Will you stay? It’s safe here.”

“Safe here,” I responded. I was safe here. I was happy here. “I’m safe here,” I mumbled, standing up and swinging my body as the music flowed through me.

“Come and dance!” someone shouted so I headed in the direction, joining a group of girls as we held hands and swayed together.

I felt free. I felt complete. I felt happy.

After an undefined period of time I sat back down, breathless, red-faced and feeling very content.

A man sat down next to me and I turned to him. “I don’t know you...” I proclaimed, taking in his green eyes, olive skin, angular face and dark hair.

“No – you don’t,” he told me, eyes scanning the crowd. “But I know you, Isabella Swan.”

I giggled. “Swans are pretty.”

He turned to face me. “You need to remember Bella, you need to remember. This place is making you forget.”

“Forget what?” I asked, becoming entranced with the way the grass moved, even though there didn’t seem to be a breeze.

“Everything – who you are, your friends, your family.”

I played with my fingers, moving them about as I felt the need to dance again.

“Bella – listen to me.” the stranger demanded. “Focus! Think about Rosalie. Think about how much she is going to be missing you.”

I turned to the stranger, my heady feeling foggy. The name sounded familiar, yet strange. “Who’s Rosalie?”

A look of dread crossed the strangers face as he realised he might be too late.

Thank-you for reading.

So, if you haven’t seen yet, this was the last chapter in Out of the Coffin. I know I’ve left it on a cliffhanger, but don’t worry, a sequel is coming! I just need time to get it sorted. I’m hoping 2-3 weeks and then I’ll be posting. I only plan on posting the sequel on here, A03 and STARS Library, as well as my blog.

Make sure you have my profile on author alert so you know when the sequel comes up, although I probably will add a chapter onto this with either the first chapter of the sequel in it, or just a quick note letting you know I’ve posted it.

Thank-you again for your support and kind words. I never thought I would ever complete a fic, let alone have so many followers and reviews. I really can’t put into words how pleased I am to have started this journey.

Hopefully, I’ll see you all for the next adventure!

#twilight fanfiction #fanfic #love story #romance #hurt/comfort #canon couple #alternate universe #complete #vampires #shapeshifter #inspired by true blood #princesstreacle #princesstreaclefanfiction #out of the coffin #ootc

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tact-and-impulse · 6 years

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At Arm’s Length Chapter 10

This took a while because I was planning ahead, there was Real Life Stuff, and it’s a long chapter. And still, it’s been tough. However, I owe it to my old self, to not give up writing and see what I’ve started to the end.

Everything’s under the cut now, and I changed the title literally at the last second. The rest of this story can be found on FF.net and AO3.

Chapter 10: That Includes You

A few days after the revelation, the position of assistant chief inspector had been temporarily filled. Some of the younger officers had insisted that Koshijiro apply, but while he was flattered, he was comfortable in his current role. Instead, someone else was assigned, directly from the Department of Internal Affairs.

They exited the main building for the training yard, prepared to greet the new assistant chief inspector. The others were restless, and their conversation drifted to Koshijiro’s ears. “If he’s from the government, that means we can trust him, right?” Abe muttered under his breath.

Shinichi added. “I heard he has permission to carry a katana, even during the day. Isn’t that unusual?”

“It is, but perhaps, he still has a lingering attachment to the old ways.” Koshijiro spoke up. “If he was a samurai, it’s likely he also had police duties. For many of them, it was easiest to continue such work in the new era.”

“Does that include you?”

“Yes.”

The closest officer, Aoki, eagerly asked. “What was it like, on the battlefield? You fought for the Emperor twice, didn’t you?”

Koshijiro did not respond right away. It was easier to explain why he fought in Satsuma, because he had been conscripted and had no choice in the matter. It would take much longer, to tell the story of why he had chosen his side during the upheaval more than ten years ago. Instead, he mildly said. “War is nothing glamorous. Unlike many others, I am very fortunate to have returned home, alive.”

Aoki realized his mistake, his ears burning red. “O-of course!”

As they stepped onto the grass, Tanaka clouted him. “Idiot! You shouldn’t have reminded him!”

“It’s alright. Now, stand at attention.” Koshijiro told them and they joined the other officers, lined up in perfect rows. He straightened his posture, and didn’t have time to wonder how long they would wait, because Chief Uramura was suddenly walking out.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here. This is our new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro.” He ushered the man forward.

Fujita was a tall, lean man in his early thirties. It was true that he carried a katana, it was sheathed at his side. He smiled, but it didn’t seem natural, not reaching his eyes. With a gloved hand, he raised his hat in greeting. “Hello.”

The officers bowed in unison. “We look forward to working with you, sir!”

Koshijiro also bowed, a half second after the rest. He caught Fujita scanning over everyone, and literally so. The assistant chief inspector didn’t make eye contact, his gaze directed at the tops of their heads. It was a cool expression, as if he was loftily looking down from a high cliff.

“…yes.” Fujita said, and his voice was flat.

Koshijiro felt equally enthusiastic.

***

To his credit, Fujita was extremely efficient and performed his own patrols. The end result was the resolution of several cases and multiple arrests. Unfortunately, that also meant paperwork, and Koshijiro found that his workload had substantially increased. It certainly kept him busy, even at home.

One night, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Otou-san? Are you still awake?”

“Yes, come in.”

He turned around to meet Kaoru’s incredulous face, her eyes narrowed against the candlelight streaming from his desk. “Geez, you shouldn’t be. It’s past midnight!”

It was very late, his vision was starting to waver. But he had a deadline to meet, and he wouldn’t feel at ease if he gave up now. “I’ll sleep, after this report is finished. Did you need something?”

“…never mind. I just got up to get a drink of water, do you want one too?”

“No, but I’ll listen to what you really want to say.”

She seemed to deliberate, before kneeling, blowing out a breath, and admitting. “It’s about Kenshin. I noticed that he’s been acting off. Sometimes, he’ll slow down in whatever he’s doing and close his eyes. When I call out to him, it takes a minute for him to respond, like he fell asleep but so deeply in just a short time. The way he acts, it’s like…like when you came home, after fighting in the Bakumatsu.”

His memories of that time were fragmented, but tinged with regret. He was relieved to be home and with his family, but he had been withdrawn, too affected by what he had experienced and what he had done to survive. Alone with his thoughts, he could easily sink into reliving the sensations of war. “I see. I’ll also keep an eye on him, and it would only be appropriate if I speak to him once this occurs again. For now, there is something you can do.”

“What is it?”

“When I came home, your mother told you to talk to me, since she was too sick to leave her bed. You might not remember, but you did help. You pointed out when I was lethargic, when my attention was drifting during practice. Perhaps, that’s also what Himura-san needs at the moment, to be reminded that he has people who care for his well-being.”

“I think so too. You’re right, I’ll make sure Kenshin isn’t alone.”

It’s true that he needs support, but it can’t be just the two of them by themselves! He hastily added. “Include Yahiko, and Sagara-san, if you can.”

Kaoru looked affronted. “Well, of course, that was what I meant.” She stood once more, and stepped out into the hallway. “Anyway, thank you, Otou-san. And good night, so go to bed soon.”

“Alright, I will.” He gave a slight smile, and that was the end of their conversation. Then, he returned to his paperwork, and summoned the remainder of his energy. He felt only relief when at last, he blew out the candle.

The following morning, he woke to dim sunlight on his face. It was definitely later than usual, but it was the weekend. The others must have remembered and let him sleep in, because when he emerged from his room, his breakfast was waiting on the table. His hand was sore from strain, and he flexed his fingers, one by one, before picking up his chopsticks.

It had been a while, since he had eaten a meal alone. He could hear faint voices from the dojo, indicating that his daughter and Yahiko had begun lessons. However, it wasn’t the same as sitting with everyone in person. He carried his dishes to the kitchen and headed for the porch.

The fresh air was pleasant, and the maple tree had new green leaves. From the doorway, he could hear Kaoru, telling Yahiko that he had performed the last kata well, but that he needed to be less hasty. And Himura was in the yard, hanging blankets on the clothesline.

“Good morning, Himura-san.” Koshijiro called out to him.

He startled, turning around. “Kamiya-san…good morning. This one assumes that you’ve finished eating?”

“Yes, I have.” He sat on the edge of the porch. “A good meal is always appreciated. Kaoru and Yahiko can also attest to that. You’ve been here three months, after all.” He cleared his throat…and he didn’t know what else to say.

Whenever he talked with Himura alone, the conversation usually revolved around three subjects: Kaoru, Yahiko, and the weather. He wasn’t keen on bringing up their shared war experiences, and most likely, Himura wasn’t eager to share either. However…he had to plant the idea that Himura could speak to any of them, if his memories resurfaced while Koshijiro was at the station.

“I suppose I should say ‘thank you’. You may be a boarder in name, but no other boarder has treated this house like a home.” At that, Himura blinked, and Koshijiro continued. “It’s why Kaoru trusts you and Yahiko respects you. You’re important to them, as I’m sure they are to you, and that closeness is what makes a good meal enjoyable.”

Himura didn’t respond right away. He looked deep in thought, and finally, he said. “This one has cherished his time in this dojo. Kaoru-dono, Yahiko, and Sano, as well as you and Megumi-dono, have made every day enjoyable. This one wonders if it is selfish of this one, to accept such kindness.”

Koshijiro recognized that feeling: a lingering guilt, born from the sacrifices of other people. It wasn’t surprising that such a feeling was intensified in Himura, and overcoming it was a gradual, difficult process. And that was often without progress. “It takes time to heal, but I hope you remember that we will not go anywhere, if you need us.” He could only say that, and Himura silently inclined his head.

After a pause, Koshijiro rose to his feet. “Now, I need to return to my paperwork. Please let me know, if there’s anything of note.” He stiffly nodded and left, without looking back.

If he had to be honest, he felt awkward the entire time. The weather really was a better topic than emotions.

***

The following Monday, they received a letter from Maekawa, and it was read aloud over breakfast. He was healing, but he had not recovered his full strength yet and was requesting for Kaoru to help his students later in the week.

Kaoru refolded the paper, nodding. “I’d like to see them too. Yahiko, Kenshin, you’re coming with me.”

“We are?” Yahiko griped.

“Oro? This one as well?”

“Of course, it’d be fun. But if you’d rather be alone, I won’t stop you.”

Himura paused for a moment. “No, this one will go with you.”

“Really? Thank you!” She beamed, and her happiness was infectious, for he returned her smile. Then, Kaoru turned to Koshijiro. “Sorry, Otou-san, I know you have work.”

“It can’t be helped, with the number of cases. Please, greet everyone there for me.”

On the day of, he almost believed he could join them, but the previous evening’s arrests quashed that possibility. It was close to sunset, when the last report had been filed and the rookie officers gave a collective cheer. Koshijiro didn’t have the voice to celebrate. As he was leaving, he nearly bumped into Fujita and pivoted away at the last second. “Excuse me.”

“Not a problem.” The assistant chief inspector gave a thin smile in response.

“If I may ask, what happened to your shikomizue?” Chief Uramura had prepared a sword, concealed as a cane, for Fujita to use in place of the katana. However, it was not on his back.

“Ah, the handle had splintered, so I sent it off to be fixed.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“I assure you, I’m not disappointed. I prefer true Japanese swords.” His smile widened. “But I know that you disagree. You believe the sword can protect life. It’s a poisonous way of thinking, you could never deliver justice with that mindset.”

“That’s your opinion.” Koshijiro shortly replied. His right palm stung, and he realized he was clenching a fist, his fingernails embedded in his skin. “And as long as neither of our opinions interfere with police work, it’s unnecessary to have a debate.”

He walked away, heading for home. He was weary, his neck and shoulder ached, and he needed to rest for a while. It was stress, he recognized as much, and a break was the only cure.

Quietly, Koshijiro let himself through the gate, pushing it closed with his foot. Light shone from within the house, and the intensity made him blink. How many candles were they using? With his brow furrowed, he removed his shoes and announced. “I’m home.”

There was no answer at first, before Yahiko emerged from the kitchen, carrying a basin of water. He must have been using all of his effort not to spill a drop, for his greeting was more of an exhaled huff. “Hey, Kamiya-san.”

He stepped out of the boy’s way. “What’s going on?”

“Sano was attacked; we just found him lying in the dojo, bleeding.”

Takani’s voice suddenly called out from the hallway. “Yahiko! I need that water!”

“Megumi ran into us earlier, so she’s treating him now. Come on, do you want to see him?”

“Yes, I do.”

He followed Yahiko, to the guest room. The first thing he noticed was Sagara’s jacket, bloody and crumpled and tossed aside near the wall. Sagara himself was lying motionless on a blanket, and Takani was leaning over his right shoulder, where the wound likely was. It was very warm and bright, yet Kaoru was lighting another candle.

“Is that better?”

“For now, yes.” Takani said. “Ah, Yahiko, is that you? Bring the water over here.”

“Okay.” He seemed to be at his limit, and released a loud sigh when he set the basin down.

Koshijiro chose that moment to speak. “Should Sagara-san be taken to the hospital?”

“Otou-san?” Kaoru looked up at him. “No, Kenshin said not to, because we don’t know who attacked him. It’s better if he doesn’t leave our sight.”

“And I’m capable of treating him.” Takani added. “The wound looks clean, and keeping it that way is best done outside of a hospital. That is, if you don’t mind having him here.”

“No, it’s not a problem.” Koshijiro nodded at Sagara. “Please, take care of him.”

“I’ll do my best.” Her face was very grave, and they quietly exited the room.

Kaoru kept walking towards the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “I’ll make dinner, we all need to eat.”

“Are you sure?” Yahiko’s forehead creased, as he ran after her. “I can ask Kenshin…ow!”

She had grabbed his ear. “No, we should leave him alone right now. And what’s wrong with my cooking?”

“Well, it hasn’t gotten any better!”

“Then, you can help.” Koshijiro suggested, to his chagrin.

Ochazuke was the quickest option. After they brought the steaming teapot and bowls of leftover rice to the table, he finally ventured. “Where is Himura-san?”

“He’s in the dojo, but…” For a moment, there was only the sound of pouring green tea, as Kaoru swallowed to regain her voice. “At Maekawa-sensei’s place, he was alright, but when we were about to leave, he was listless again. He talked about the past, more than I’ve ever heard before.”

“Yeah, he fought the Shinsengumi.” Yahiko popped a stolen clump of rice into his mouth. “It sounds like he really respected them.”

“I’m glad that he opened up to us, but since we came home and found Sano, he’s been thinking about something. He looks so serious. I should check on him again, in case he’s hungry.” She quickly excused herself. Yahiko set aside a bowl for Takani, and the steam rose in faint wisps.

At length, Koshijiro asked. “Do you think Himura-san is fine?”

“I don’t know.” Yahiko shrugged. “But when I saw him, he was looking at the medicine box and the hole in the wall.”

“Hole in the wall?”

“Er…yeah, the dojo got busted again.”

“This is the third time in as many months.”

“Uh-huh.”

Koshijiro sighed. The carpenter was going to be very pleased. “And what’s this about a medicine box?”

“It was in the dojo, and Kenshin said not to touch it, although he was staring at the emblem.” Yahiko drew it in the air with one finger, a circle with a hat-like symbol above it. “Do you know what it means?”

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like any of the family crests I’m aware of, but I can look into it.”

“It’s a good thing that you work with the police, huh?”

Then, Kaoru entered, Himura in her wake. “Don’t worry about the wall, we’ll have it repaired soon. Anyway, we have ochazuke.”

Himura’s expression was taut, as he took a seat at the table. He wrapped his hands around the warm bowl before him; he hadn’t made a sound the entire time. Abruptly, his eyes widened in realization of his surroundings. “This one-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Kaoru firmly said. “It’s been a long day for all of us. You’re only human, Kenshin, so don’t feel sorry, okay? Now, let’s eat.”

“…yes.”

They ate in silence, until Takani emerged two hours later, exhausted but satisfied that Sagara’s wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. She didn’t even mind the cold tea and rice, and between mouthfuls, she brought up the idea of watching over Sagara in shifts, until he was conscious.

Koshijiro’s turn was just after midnight. Sagara had been given a blanket, and it was pulled up to his chin. The beginning of a bruise was darkening on his jaw. Each breath was shallow, almost uncertain. Sagara had extensive fighting experience; who would be formidable enough to catch him off guard and overpower him?

Furthermore, how did they know to find him here?

He did not like the implications.

***

After three days, Sagara was still out of commission. This morning, he was awake long enough to accept water and medicine, but he fell asleep before Koshijiro had the chance to question him.

“Well, sleep is good for recovery.” Takani appeared to be nonplussed, yet her eyes remained concerned and she fiddled with her chopsticks. “Meanwhile, let’s continue to watch him at night.”

However, Koshijiro hoped it wouldn’t be for much longer. He had told Yahiko he would look into the medicine box’s emblem, but Fujita had suddenly increased his paperwork, enough to keep him occupied throughout working hours.

He finished his breakfast, preparing to leave for the station when his daughter said. “Otou-san, if you wait five more minutes, I can prepare a bento box.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I plan to be home for lunch.”

He hadn’t done so for some time, and her face lit up. “Really? Okay then, see you later.”

Himura added. “And please, lock the gate behind you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Of course. Is there a reason for the reminder?”

“This one believes the person who attacked Sano will return. He would be tall, and dressed like a medicine peddler. He might also smell of alcohol too; that is, if he has not changed in the past ten years…” He trailed off.

“You’re thinking of someone in particular?”

“Only a possibility.” He hesitated. “This one is not even sure if he is still alive.”

Koshijiro mulled it over. “Still, I’ll lock the gate, to be safe. I’ll also stop by the Akabeko, to notify Yahiko.” He had left earlier, to assist at the restaurant for the morning.

The boy was sweeping the road in front, and Koshijiro paused to mention the locking of the gate. In response, he curtly nodded. “Got it.” Then, he smacked his own forehead in dismay. “Crap, I have to get more charcoal, Tae’s gonna kill me. See ya, Kamiya-san!” He was off again before Koshijiro could say another word. Regardless, he also needed to arrive at his workplace, and without sparing another glance, he continued on his path.

At the station, Fujita was waiting for him, a cigarette between his teeth. “It’s busy for you today, Kamiya.” He dropped a thick stack of reports, ready to be filed, onto Koshijiro’s desk. “These take priority, and I expect them to be finished as soon as possible.”

He tried to maintain a neutral expression. Before the loss of his arm, he had never been this busy. To be fair, it was because field work had different demands. He was grateful to be involved in administrative duties, but…he still wanted to sit down and eat with his family.

…Family?

Before he could dissect why that specific word had surfaced in his mind, Fujita continued. “Do you have a problem with that, Kamiya?”

He snapped back to attention. “No. I’ll have them completed.”

“Good.” Smoke billowed out of the side of his mouth, and the smell of tobacco lingered after he strolled out.

After that, Koshijiro lost track of time, solely focusing on each report. The minutes bled into hours, until a shadow cast over his desk. He lifted his eyes, to see his officers grimacing at the tower of remaining papers.

“Are you okay with this, Kamiya-san?”

“Of course he’s not, look at how his hand is shaking.”

“Fujita’s an asshole.”

“It must be harassment. Kamiya-san, can’t you give us a report or two?”

It must have been the lack of sleep getting to him, because he relented. “Each of you may take one. Go ahead.”

Hands scrambled, and after the fray subsided, the pile was significantly smaller. He could spare time for lunch at home and complete the rest afterwards. Fujita left to patrol at noon, so he definitely wouldn’t protest if Koshijiro left at half past one o’clock. Nevertheless, he still walked carefully, just in case the assistant chief inspector had changed his normal routine and was lurking outside the station.

The familiar gate soon towered above him, and he noticed it was unlocked as he stepped through. He locked it again, knitting his eyebrows. Had an intruder entered? He didn’t have a weapon on him, so instead, he made his way to the dojo. As he drew closer, he heard his daughter’s voice.

“Alright then, but there’s water and tea if you’re thirsty.” Then, she suddenly appeared, emerging from the dojo. She glanced up. “Ack! Otou-san, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I was concerned, because the gate was unlocked.”

“Is it? That’s my fault.” Her smile was strained and he knew something was wrong. “But your coworker’s here, to help keep us safe. He was patrolling nearby, and he offered to keep watch.”

“That’s a kind offer, but he should maintain his post. I’ll speak to him.” He opened the sliding door, to see a figure sitting on the floor. A figure he hadn’t expected to see.

“Officer Kamiya?” Fujita also blinked in surprise, before giving that unsettling, unnatural smile again. “Finished those reports already?”

“I’m taking a break for lunch. I assumed you were as well, but there are no soba shops around here.”

The smile tightened. “I was telling your daughter that a dangerous gang is looking for your boarder, Himura-san. I’ll stand guard until he safely returns.”

“I wasn’t aware he was in trouble.” Koshijiro slowly said. “Regardless, thank you but I believe we’ll be fine.”

“With two women, one child, and an unconscious person? Not to mention, you only have one arm.”

It was the first time his disability had been referred to so disparagingly, and Koshijiro decided he hated Fujita’s guts. He clenched his hand into a fist.

Kaoru spoke up, her voice calm. “Fujita-san, we don’t want to disrupt your work. Once Kenshin returns, you’re free to go. That’s all. Now, Otou-san, you can have lunch. Yahiko and I already ate, so I sent him to get more tofu. Maybe, Kenshin will be with him too.” She steered him away, whispering. “I don’t like him either, but he’s your boss, right? We probably shouldn’t make him mad.”

“I feel as if I already have, with the amount of work he’s given me.” He sighed.

“Well, food will cheer you up. It’s good, Kenshin cooked it before he left on an errand.”

“What errand?”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Yahiko said he received a letter, but it’s not from a woman. It can’t be, so just forget it, we’ll ask when he comes home. I’ll wait by the gate, so I can let them in.” She stomped off, leaving Koshijiro to enter the house alone.

Takani was eating, and she acknowledged him with a curt nod. He sat down at his place, where miso, grilled fish, and pickled vegetables awaited. After murmuring thanks, he inquired. “How is Sagara?”

She shrugged. “Asleep again. The next time he wakes up, it had better be for more than ten minutes or I’ll bury him myself.” She was clearly worn out.

“Please, don’t push yourself.” He said. “There are plenty of blankets and pillows, if you’d like to rest for an hour.”

“I know.” She didn’t dismiss the idea, so it was likely that she would. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, before Takani excused herself to return to Sagara’s bedside.

“I’m back.” Yahiko brought in the full tofu bucket. His shoulders slumped a little at the sight of the empty kitchen. “Do you think the gang found Kenshin first?”

Koshijiro placed one hand on the table and stood. “If there is a gang, they would have divided their numbers. I would have expected some men to be here, if that were the case.”

“So is Fujita-san wrong?”

“I can only find out by questioning him. Meanwhile, you shouldn’t leave the house again.”

At the gravity of his tone, the boy gulped. “Yeah, got it. I’ll go to Sano’s room and, uh, read a book or something…” He hardly read, but Koshijiro felt a little reassured as he walked to the dojo.

It was obvious that Fujita had once been a swordsman. He was sitting on his heels, his posture straight and immobile, as he properly faced the front of the space. “I admit, you designed it well. There’s plenty of room to play.”

For his own sanity, Koshijiro ignored the jab. “You were cleared to carry your katana?”

“Fortunately, yes. It’s more suited to me than a sword-cane or a Western saber.” He smiled at the sheathed blade, and it was a strangely fond expression. “Only a Japanese sword can deliver justice.”

“And the law has deemed that the police cannot carry them. Regardless of that, I was thinking about the gang. Do we know who they are, and whether they have any history with Himura-san?”

“I assume it’s a small group, around ten men or fewer. That was indicated by a few vague letters, sent from different addresses and pieced together from newspaper cuttings. As for any history, who knows? There was a war ten years ago, many people have complaints.”

“Then, why are they so dangerous? Were the letters that threatening?”

“Enough to be concerning.”

“And if they’re genuine, why aren’t our officers making arrests?”

“I’ve visited the addresses, and the gang members appear to have moved. Instead of wasting time on a search, it would be vastly more efficient to lie in wait for them.” His voice was impatient. On edge. “Speaking of efficiency, don’t you have other responsibilities? Your break’s over. Return to the station.”

He was about to reply, when Kaoru approached. “Otou-san? Is it really safe for you to leave?”

He spoke carefully. “I didn’t encounter anyone on the way here, but if you would feel better if I stayed-”

Fujita interrupted. “If you thought I was making a request, you’re wrong. You have work to do.” Was it a trick of the light, or were his eyes more shadowed? More sinister?

“Otou-san-”

“It’s fine, Kaoru. Clearly, the assistant chief inspector believes he can handle this matter.” Also, there was one benefit to returning to work. He could search through Fujita’s desk for the letters. It wouldn’t be inappropriate; this matter concerned his home and the security of its residents. If he had to pay the consequences, so be it. He clasped his daughter’s shoulder, promising. “I’ll be home by sunset.”

She still looked troubled, but she exhaled. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

Reluctantly, he departed. The sky was covered with silver clouds, darkening to gray near the horizon. Whether there would be rain or not, it was difficult to tell.

Halfway down the road, he heard a voice call out. “Kamiya-san!” Koshijiro turned his head to see Officer Shinichi crossing the street in four strides. He had been running, he needed to catch his breath before managing to relay his message. “Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you. Chief Uramura is requesting that you return to the station immediately. There’s a visitor who wants to speak with you.”

Koshijiro frowned. “Who is it?”

“I wasn’t told, only that you need to go back as quickly as possible.”

“Then, the sooner we arrive, the sooner it will end.” He would have to check Fujita’s desk afterwards.

Shinichi led him to the chief’s office, but it was empty. “The chief must be with the visitor, I’ll try and find them. You can sit down.” With a hasty salute, he hurried off. Koshijiro occupied one of the plush Western couches. Past the door, muffled footsteps grew louder and softer at intervals.

Dim light streamed in from the glass windowpanes, onto his hand. He stared at his callused palm and fingers, the short nails recently trimmed with Kaoru’s help. No, he didn’t feel weak, not when his own skin embodied a lifetime of perseverance.

Twenty minutes passed; there was no update from Shinichi. After twenty more minutes, he decided it had been long enough already. He could slip out for a while and attempt to find the letters. Without deliberating any further, he went to the door and turned the knob.

Hm? It didn’t budge, and he twisted harder, to no avail. Had someone locked the door?

He rapped the wood with his knuckles. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” There was only silence. He continued to knock, proceeding to bang his fist against the door. With each hit, his alarm grew.

It could have been an honest mistake, but what if there was no visitor and Shinichi had delivered a false message? What if he had been lured here?

Koshijiro paused and looked over the room. From what he remembered, the left window was jammed and couldn’t be opened. He tried the right but the lock only budged halfway. He peered downwards, at the streets below. His gaze met two hats, belonging to its respective officers standing guard at the entrance.

With a tired sigh, he sat again to contemplate the situation. The initial panic had subsided, and he shifted his thoughts to who could have possibly planned this. Fujita, definitely. He had been too eager to shoo Koshijiro out of the dojo. But he had to have an accomplice, at least one, at the station. He doubted it was Shinichi, he was too honest.

Someone of high rank then, who could order Shinichi. It can’t be Chief Uramura; he wouldn’t sacrifice his space unless he was here to distract me. That means whoever it is, the accomplice must be distracting the chief. And whoever locked the door…a second accomplice. But why go to such lengths?

As Fujita had pointed out, Koshijiro wasn’t much of a threat. But what if that was the purpose, to keep him away…to get to someone else? Sagara’s wounds had come from a sword. Fujita had recently broken his shikomizue. Damn it, Fujita could have been the attacker all along! And he had his katana.

His daughter and everyone else was in danger. He needed to get out. Now.

He eyed the window again. It couldn’t be opened…at least, not with the lock. He glanced at the coat rack. Sturdy and tall, it resembled the sodegarami, the man-catching tool he had used until ten years ago. He walked over and grasped it. It was heavier than he expected, but he could tuck it under his arm and guide it with his hand. He made sure the path to the window was clear, and then, he readied himself into position. He aimed the end of the coat rack towards the glass. With a running start, he could break the glass and alert the officers guarding the front door. Of course, he would pay for the damage to the window. It would most likely come out of his salary.

Nevertheless, three, two, one…!

He charged.

Then, the door swung open. “Officer Kamiya?”

Koshijiro stumbled at the chief’s voice, stopping short of the window, but he managed to lower the coat rack and set it upright. Sweat rolled down his forehead, but he snapped to attention, turning and straightening his posture. The chief blinked in puzzlement and asked. “What are you doing?”

He explained, as calmly as he could. “I believe that I was locked inside your office by mistake. I have been waiting for almost an hour, and I concluded that no help was arriving. I apologize for my impatience.”

“No, it’s perfectly alright. It’s strange, it shouldn’t have been locked. Well, sorry about the delay, but I was giving our very important guest a tour of the building.” The chief ushered in a figure, and Koshijiro braced himself to see the face of Fujita’s accomplice. He did not recognize the man. The guest had a full mustache and beard; he wore his coat over a Western suit.

“This is the minister of the Department of Internal Affairs, Okubo Toshimichi.” The chief introduced him. That name was certainly memorable; Okubo was one of the most prominent figures in the country, the last of the three men who led the Ishin Shishi.

“Minister Okubo.” Koshijiro bowed deeply. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Please, stand up. The honor is mine, to meet a veteran of both Toba Fushimi and Satsuma.” His clear gaze was directed at Koshijiro’s face, instead of his armless sleeve.

“Ah…yes.” He maintained a respectful demeanor, but his mind was still racing. An official of Okubo’s standing would fit the criteria of Fujita’s accomplice. As for the second…

The chief then added. “Commissioner Kawaji, we’re here.” Another man entered the office. He was short of stature and balding, but Koshijiro remembered him from a few police ceremonies. He had to be the second accomplice.

Okubo spoke again. “I’d like to have a word alone with Kamiya-san.”

Without even questioning how odd that was, the chief was already in the hallway and closing the door. “Of course!”

Koshijiro subtly took a step towards the coat rack and window.

If Okubo noticed, he didn’t mention it and instead continued. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, the tour was a last minute change. I had intended to meet you at half past one, because I was told that you would definitely be here for the entirety of the day.”

“Saito-san usually has good information.” Kawaji muttered. “He must have made a rare mistake.”

“We had to switch to the secondary plan anyway, I did not want to deny the commissioner of his tour.” Okubo pressed his fingertips together. “But I wanted to speak with you directly, Kamiya-san. You’ve housed a wandering swordsman named Himura Kenshin, for the past three months. How has he fared?”

Koshijiro frowned. Was Okubo cornering him, just to ask about a former Ishin Shishi soldier? “He’s been a good boarder. Other than…I have no complaints that would concern you.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry, but would it be possible for us to meet again?”

“The minister is very busy.” Kawaji said. “We have been planning this for some time.”

“Well, perhaps, I should have been notified.”

“How rude! Is something irritating you, Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, and with every second, I’m more certain that both of you have a hand in it.”

Kawaji’s expression contorted in anger, but Okubo lifted a hand. “No, I understand. Kawaji, what is the time now?”

“Fifteen minutes past three.”

“Then, Saito-san should have fulfilled his task by now. Let’s go.”

Koshijiro struggled for patience, but he found that he had none left. He was exhausted and worried and sick of the deception. “I’m not. I’m going home, I’ve had enough of these games.”

They exchanged glances, and Okubo slowly said. “It would be best if we talk in the carriage. I promise you, we will take you home first. Consider it an apology.”

“I’ll accept.” He trailed the two of them, as they headed out to the road. A horse-drawn carriage was waiting, and Koshijiro silently stepped within.

While the carriage swayed and the buildings moved past, Okubo began to explain. “Your new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro, was sent to the station on my orders. His current objective is to evaluate Himura-san’s abilities in countering a certain threat.”

“And in doing so, he made a mistake and injured the wrong person. Since then, that person has not been conscious for more than an hour a day.”

“No, it wasn’t a mistake. He is very deliberate, that’s one of his strong points. I admit, that was extreme, but he must have intended to draw Himura-san’s attention. And his ire.”

“You want the assassin who worked for you ten years ago.” He realized. “Who do you want to kill?”

“That’s classified.” Kawaji automatically replied.

“The government can conscript any number of men. It did so for the rebellion in Satsuma, only last year. What kind of threat is it, that you would go to such lengths for one man?”

“Kamiya-san, that’s enough!”

He leaned back in his seat. “I assume that you know what happened to our last assistant chief inspector. He was not forthcoming with us and it resulted in betrayal. Forgive me, if I am overreacting to secrecy.”

A long pause followed. Outside, the scenery became more familiar, drawing closer to the Kamiya dojo.

Okubo stroked his beard. “It is classified information, and I would rather disclose it only once. You don’t have to wait any longer; we’ve arrived.”

Koshijiro dismounted first, calling out for his daughter to allow them in. “Kaoru!”

But it was Yahiko who opened the gate, his eyes wide. “Kamiya-san. Come on! We gotta stop them!” As he led the way to the dojo, he was trembling slightly, and Koshijiro laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

The distinct sound of metal on metal reached his ears. Kawaji pushed past, sprinting into the dojo and shouting. “Stop!”

At the same time, a scream of distress split the air. It sounded like Kaoru, and Koshijiro hurried to join the scene. He found her first, kneeling on the ground and clutching herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she was unharmed. Standing near her with anxious expressions, Takani was supporting a now fully conscious Sagara. And then, in the middle of the floor, Fujita and Himura had halted mid-step, their swords drawn. Both were bloodied, Fujita’s forehead and Himura’s right shoulder in particularly bad shape.

“Come to your senses, Saito. Your mission was to test the abilities of Hitokiri Battousai.” The commissioner scolded.

Fujita must have been a pseudonym, because he answered. “…I was almost enjoying myself. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

Now, Okubo stepped forward. “I understand your pride, as a former captain of the Shinsengumi. But neither you nor Himura-san can afford to risk your lives here.

“So you were the one pulling the strings,” Himura lifted his head, and his gaze was cold. “Okubo-dono.”

Okubo gave a wry smile. “I apologize for the rough treatment, but we desperately needed to know how strong you are. I hope you will hear me out.”

“Yes, and you will hold nothing back.”

It seemed to be Fujita’s cue to exit, because he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Mission report. Himura Kenshin is of no use to us, but Himura Battousai has potential. That’s all.” The commissioner didn’t appear pleased with the brevity, but he brushed it off.

Koshijiro seized the opportunity to remark. “So, you needed me out of the house, in order to fight Himura-san.”

Fujita scoffed. “You look like the kind of person who interferes, so I sought to distract you with paperwork. I should have never let you return to the dojo. You’re a stubborn one, that’s something I’ll remember. And by the way, if anyone asks why I was gone, I was patrolling the streets around here.”

“You’re telling me to withhold information from my colleagues, and so soon after the last assistant chief inspector destroyed our trust.” He bluntly said.

“That’s correct.” Fujita was just as forthright. “Because none of them can be trusted with a threat to national security. And if that’s all, I’m leaving.” He tossed his coat over his shoulder, and walked away. Koshijiro was too glad to see him go.

Okubo beckoned to Himura. “Come then, the carriage is still outside.”

“You must be…” Himura was about to make a retort, but instead, he trailed off. Then, he drove his fist between his eyes. As his knuckles came away bloody, he deeply inhaled. “This matter does not involve only this one. We will all hear what you have to say.”

Kaoru ran to him. “But first, we need to tend to your wounds. The blood hasn’t stopped yet…”

“Don’t touch them!” Takani warned and began to direct instructions to cleanse and bind the wounds. Himura was ushered to the bathhouse, Yahiko in tow to help.

In the kitchen, there was leftover tea, and Koshijiro poured some into a cup. The hot drink did very little to reduce the fury pumping through his veins. He paced back and forth, to try and curb the energy. At one point, Sagara entered but upon seeing Koshijiro, he declared. “Ah! I gotta take my medicine.” He pivoted, reversing his tracks.

After a while, the kitchen was too cramped, and he went outside. His daughter was washing Himura’s bloodied gi. Her figure seemed purposefully small, her chin tucked and her elbows drawn in.

Koshijiro knelt next to her. “Kaoru?”

“I-I’m fine.” She briefly pressed her sleeve to her puffy eyes.

“It’s over.”

“I know.” Her voice broke. “But I couldn’t do anything to stop Kenshin.”

“You didn’t have to, don’t blame yourself.”

“My voice couldn’t reach him. He was too far gone, lost in the past.”

“You should rest. The gi can wait.” He reached for her hands, but she jerked away.

“This is what I can do for him now. I don’t want to give up.” She kept turning the gi in the water, her eyes forced open to prevent any more tears forming. “That’s it.”

As much as he wanted to ease her pain, he realized he couldn’t comfort her. But the sooner the troublemakers left, the better off they’d all be. “I’m going to clean the dojo, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

He returned inside to retrieve a few old cloths, the threads beginning to come apart at the edges. He passed the kitchen, noticing that Takani was measuring rice in a clay pot. She was murmuring to herself. “With the two of them and the carriage driver, that’s three more plates. Nine in total.”

He spoke up. “Don’t go to such lengths. They’re not our guests. Guests would have announced themselves.”

Takani craned her head to look at him, blinking. “Well, I suppose…”

His heavy footsteps continued. He located the bucket of soapy water used to clean the dojo’s floor, and tossed the rags into the frothy liquid. The sliding door was slightly ajar and he used his foot to fully open it. Ignoring the presence of the minister and the commissioner, he squeezed out the excess water in the cloths. But their whispers floated over to him.

“Minister Okubo, we’re short on time.”

“We don’t have a choice. There’s nothing we need more than Himura-san’s strength.”

Koshijiro threw the rag in his hand onto the floor, and it landed with a wet splat. “Both of you, I need you out.”

“This is the only private area, we can’t discuss-”

He abruptly shut up, as Koshijiro stood to face him, thunder in his expression. “Right now, I’m very angry. Because of your deception, everyone is distressed. You only care about Himura-san’s strength, but he has been hurt, and blood was shed in the dojo. This place is meant to teach. If you have any respect, you will sit on the porch until I am finished cleaning. If you feel you can’t talk, then don’t. Be quiet.”

Okubo stared at him for a moment, before inclining his head. “Kawaji, the porch is this way.” The commissioner flashed one last affronted look at Koshijiro, but they acquiesced.

He scrubbed at the splattered blood, some of it on the walls. By the time he was finished, night had fallen, and the water had turned crimson. As he washed out the bucket, Kaoru approached him.

“Otou-san? Is it okay if we can talk in the dojo? The minister’s asking.”

“It’s fine.” Cleaning the dojo had served to calm his temper, for the most part.

They filed in, sitting in a semicircle to face the minister and commissioner. Himura had a bandage on his unscarred cheek and he guarded his right side, the bandages covered by a fresh, dark gray gi.

“I’ll be brief.” Okubo began. “Himura, Shishio is plotting rebellion in Kyoto.”

“And who’s that?” Sagara interjected.

“He was this one’s successor.” Himura answered. “When this one was assigned to fight openly against the Shinsengumi, Shishio Makoto became the next hitokiri. He was another member of the Ishin Shishi, from Choshuu. Very few knew he existed, even this one has never seen him. But this one heard that he died ten years ago, in the Boshin War.”

Okubo did not reply, and Himura interpreted his silence. “So, he was not killed in battle, but executed by the Ishin Shishi.”

“At that time, we didn’t have a choice. His skill and wits were almost equal to yours, but he had cunning and a longing for power. He didn’t care for his comrades. If the public found out about his assassinations, it would threaten the Meiji government. He couldn’t continue to live. Oil was even poured over his corpse and burned.”

“Well, that didn’t work.” Sagara sarcastically said, and the commissioner glared at him.

“Watch your mouth! And this is a serious matter! Shishio’s formed an army of bloodthirsty fighters and war-loving merchants. He wants to take his revenge upon this country, by creating another civil war.”

Okubo added. “All the troops we’ve sent have been obliterated. You are our last hope. For the sake of the people, Himura, please go to Kyoto once again.”

“In other words,” It was Kaoru’s turn to speak up. “You’re asking Kenshin to kill Shishio Makoto.”

“…Yes, that is what we’re asking.”

Kawaji elaborated. “Of course, he will be amply rewarded and we can adjust some things on our end. For example, this woman is Takani Megumi, suspected to have manufactured the highly addictive Spider’s Web opium. We can make that suspicion disappear.”

Takani slapped her hand on the floor. “If you’ll use me to blackmail Ken-san, I’d rather be executed.”

“And it was your dirty dealings that started this mess.” Sagara darkly said. “You want Kenshin to cover your own asses! Kenshin’s chosen to live without killing. I won’t stand by and watch you drag him into this. Screw the government! All that matters is the peace and safety of the people!”

A vein bulged in Kawaji’s temple as he pulled Sagara’s collar. “If Shishio succeeds, we won’t have that either, you fool! If you don’t shut up, I’ll arrest you!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Sagara taunted, and grabbed the commissioner in turn.

Yahiko sighed. “The only thing I get is that if Kenshin hadn’t disappeared, you guys would’ve killed him too. You only kill people when it suits you, that’s pathetic.” That was true, and silently, Kawaji released Sagara, who made a rude hand gesture.

Kaoru folded her hands in her lap, her steady gaze on the minister. “Okubo-san, I understand that you need Hitokiri Battousai, but that isn’t Kenshin, not anymore. We will never allow Kenshin to go to Kyoto.”

“That’s outrageous!” Kawaji then turned to Koshijiro. “Please, Kamiya-san. You know what’s at stake, you sided with this government.”

But they didn’t know. They didn’t know the reason why he fought, what had convinced him to join their side, and after ten years, they had lost sight of that reason.

Koshijiro squarely looked at Okubo. “That war is finished. Himura-san fulfilled his duties to you then. If the government needs an assassin, they won’t find one here.”

The commissioner’s temper flared, and he spat. “You’re a fool, just like everyone else here!”

Okubo disagreed. “Quiet, Kawaji. I understand, Kamiya-san. Investing in the Meiji era has required much sacrifice on your part. The same goes for you.” He glanced at Himura. “This is a decision too important to make in one night. I’ll come to see you in a week, on May 14th. I’ll expect a good answer then.” He drew his coat around him and at last, he returned to his carriage with the commissioner.

“Stubborn bastards.” Sagara stalked off. “Good riddance! Let’s eat already, I’m starving.”

“Your appetite’s a good sign, but you’ll regret it if you overeat.” Takani warned.

Dinner was spent in silence, except for the noises of their utensils. Although it was still relatively early, everyone was generally eager to go to bed. Koshijiro was about to retire, but as he was closing the door, Himura suddenly peered through the gap.

“Can this one speak with you?”

“…alright.” He allowed the redhead in, feeling a little awkward.

Himura took a single step from the door, before he knelt and bowed his head. “This one apologizes, for the trouble he caused today.”

“If anyone needs to apologize, it would be Minister Okubo and Commissioner Kawaji.” When he didn’t react, Koshijiro continued. “They think highly of your skill with the sword, but you weren’t moved.”

“This one was not born to a samurai family, he was taught the sword by his master. When the people were suffering, this one saw and wanted to help.” He mulled over his words. “Minister Okubo and the commissioner are not wrong, to believe that this one would help again. But Saito had already drawn his sword, and this one succumbed to anger.”

“First of all, it was a terrible plan, if they were trying to negotiate with you. The minister did not consider your will. This week, we’ll do our best to protect you from being exploited. Your decision is what matters.” He studied Himura’s expression. “You look like you want to say something else.”

After a second, he nodded. “Kamiya-dono, you’re a respected officer and a veteran twice over. More than anyone else in this house, you would understand why they asked for this one, yet you took this one’s side. Why?”

If Koshijiro closed his eyes, he could remember many things. The crash of water against the riverbanks. The violent slap of a hand across his cheek. And faintest of all, a soft humming.

“It’s for the same reason why I fought in the Bakumatsu. I wanted to build a world in which people could be respected, from birth to death. A world that was not so rigid in who deserved certain treatment, who decided what privileges were given. The transition has not been perfect, but I still believe that a person should decide how they want to live. That includes you.” He gruffly added.

“…thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

There was a faint rustle, and Himura turned his head towards the door. “Yes?”

A long pause followed, before Kaoru entered. “Um, don’t mind me, I was checking the corners for dust. Don’t worry, they’re all clean.” She gave a little laugh, as her cheeks grew pink.

At this angle, Himura’s face couldn’t be seen, but the younger man’s tone was markedly light. “Then, that’s good.”

Koshijiro cleared his throat. “While you’re both here, let Takani and Sagara know that the five of us should meet tomorrow. I’d like your help in preparing for something.”

***

“What’s all this?” Yahiko blinked at the spray of irises and azalea flowers on the table. Koshijiro had chosen those, for the season and how the colors complemented each other. The second addition to their afternoon tea was an array of rice cakes, wrapped in green oak leaves. The unfamiliar sight confused him. “Are we having another party?”

“No, it’s a holiday.” Kaoru explained. “Haven’t you celebrated Boy’s Day before?”

“Of course I have.” He scratched his head. “My mom usually bought me a skewer of dango. That was about it though…”

“Well,” Sagara clapped the boy’s shoulder. “We can do a lot more than that today. You’re only a kid once. That’s why I went out and bought this.” With his other hand, he drew out a small carp streamer the length of his forearm. It was probably the cheapest one, but Yahiko’s eyes widened.

“Whoa! I can keep this?” He gingerly held onto the streamer, running his fingers over the pale blue scales.

“Yeah, it’s yours! We’ll fly it outside after we eat.”

The rice cakes had been generously filled with red bean paste, and Sagara and Yahiko eagerly tackled their shares. As she tasted hers, Takani straightened her shoulders with pride. “Hm, not bad for my first attempt.”

Koshijiro bit into one, and the sweetness filled his mouth. It went well, with the green tea that his daughter had prepared. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tucking it out of the way as she enjoyed the mochi. Sitting next to her, Himura curved his fingers around his cup, closing his eyes at the heat. Despite his injuries, he had still insisted on finding a vase for the flowers.

The wind picked up, just in time for Sagara to tie the carp to the laundry line. It was quickly sent aloft and wriggled as if it were swimming in place.

“The carp is symbolic, because it bravely fights against the current.” Koshijiro addressed Yahiko. “I also had one, when I was a boy, and like you, I dreamed of becoming a swordsman. But it is good to cherish the present. Today, we’ll celebrate your childhood.”

“Oh…thanks. At least, it’s only for a day.” Despite his bluster, he couldn’t seem to resist tapping the carp’s tail with a finger.

Himura smiled. “Is the streamer to your liking?”

“Yeah, I guess.” But his face broke into a grin. Kaoru noticed and ruffled his hair.

“Geez, be honest. This is fun!”

Yes, this had been a good idea. Watching them, Koshijiro felt content. He didn’t know it then, but this was probably the happiest they’d be for many weeks.

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro

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naturepointstheway · 6 years

Text

“Of Ghosts and Carols” Chapter 5: Interlude II

After much bloodshed and anger and tears, this chapter is finally done. Once again, thank you as always to @tinydooms for her encouragement and beta-ing! Shorter chapter than usual at only 4k-ish words, but I have a feeling the next chapter (where we FINALLY get to Christmas Future. Happy now, brain?) will definitely make up for it.

For those who would rather read/comment on Archive of Our Own, the latest chapter is up here!

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4

@insectoid5 @greensearcher @emeraldcitynative @sweetfayetanner @morgaine2005

Interlude II

Back in bed, Adam tossed and turned for a while, trying to get to sleep, even despite the hauntings behind his eyelids when he closed them. Clear that sleep refused to visit, the prince threw off the blankets, leaping to his feet, pacing back and forth with much agitation, unable to get the ghost’s face out of his mind.

So much like her. So much like my mother.

He stopped before a desk leaning under a giant portrait, a hand gripping the table’s edge, head bowing.

I love you. I miss you still, mama.

Again, that familiar lump in his throat, the scrunch of his forehead as he tried not to weep, again, for her. She’d died so, so long ago—shouldn’t he have been over it by now? Shouldn’t he have journeyed past that?

I miss you like it’s still the day you…went away.

What would she think now to see him? Would she still love him? Would she be disappointed in him? Tears pricked at his eyes at the idea of having disappointed her. For all his whispers in the dark for her to come back, to show some sign she was still listening…he had gotten back nothing. She’d promised to always be there whenever he needed her, whenever he called her name, that the castle would always be home for him as long as he had loved ones around him.

One word, just a word would do, to end this nightmare.

Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds?

He’d thought they healed, and now, they were raw and bleeding pain all over again.

Lifting his heavy head, the prince stared up at the portrait. Though too dark to see the figures clearly, he had every detail memorised, down to the finely painted features of their faces.

“Are you ashamed of me, Mama?” he rasped, words tear-choked, “Is this why you remain silent?”

And he imagined, too, the painting of his father next to his mother, a haughty and cruel gleam in his hooded eyes and twisted lips.

Am I too much like you now, Father?

Who was he now? His father’s son—cold, selfish, and unkind? Or still his mother’s son—someone who used to be warm, selfless, and kind?

What if it’s too late to remember?

Recalling again the terrible lives his subjects were living thanks to his heavy taxation, his hands came up to clutch at his hair in an element of despair. The homeless people, the struggling orphanage, the people cursing his name, and the poor girl sick in her father’s arms, with no hope of seeing the next year through unless her family could afford a doctor.

I need to do something. But what can I do?

Adam imagined twisted lips parting enough to tell him, “Nothing. They are beneath you.”

At the same time, he imagined his mother’s voice, somewhere deep inside him, trying to tell him he can do it, she had faith in him.

Oh, dearest Mama, I don’t want to be like Father, not after what the ghost had shown me.

If the orphanage fell, it would be his fault. If that daughter died, it would be on his shoulders.

I envy them. At least they don’t have anything to blame themselves for, for their misfortune.

Adam stopped himself, re-examining this last thought with a closer, keener eye, examining its underlying emotion. Envy. To be sure, he did not envy their terrible fates. But he did envy that they could live day by day, hour by hour, without the weight of several villages upon their shoulders. Even those who had employment whether here in the castle or elsewhere in another village, he found himself envying. At least they could take time off to relax, unlike him. For a prince, there was no holiday, no days off to enjoy himself without a care in the world.

Perhaps now I’ll sleep.

A few more minutes of tossing and turning told him otherwise. Sleep clearly was not forthcoming, no matter how tight he shut his eyes as he yanked the blankets over his head. Giving up with a frustrated groan, Adam got back out of bed and pulled on a warm coat and a pair of thick slippers from his closets. If nothing else was going to get him to go back to sleep, then perhaps a walk around the castle’s darkened halls might help, so long as he wasn’t surprised by another ghost visitor who decided to come a night early.

On this fretful a-wandering, a candle in hand, his robes snug against him, Adam soon discovered he was not the only one walking the castle at this time of night—past one thirty. This companionable night-time wanderer was not a ghost, but Chip, tip-toeing down to where the kitchens were. Adam tried to walk quietly by, but his footsteps must have caught in the keen ears of the child nevertheless. For Chip stopped mid-step and turned around, starting in surprise when he spotted the prince.

“Oh, sorry, Prince Adam!” Chip said, but Adam held up a hand to stop him.

“It’s alright, I was just taking a walk around the castle. I’ll leave you be.”

“Are you thirsty as well? You can come have a glass of water too.”

Adam was about to decline the invitation and wish him a good night, but something in him hesitated, as if to weigh up the choice of either meandering in the garden all alone with his troubles, or having a little company to distract him at least for a few minutes. He decided he may as well go with the latter—any excuse for a distraction from his inner turmoil was enough.

“On second thought, I’ll come join you for a little while.”

‘Come on then,” Chip said, “But be quiet, because the grown-ups are asleep.”

“Except for this one.”

“You’re a prince.”

“Still a grown-up.”

Chip opened the door as soon as Adam had joined him, and, again reminding the prince with a “Shhh!” to be quiet, he tiptoed ahead, the prince following into the dark kitchen, the steps’ shadows dancing in the candlelight. The soles of Adam’s slippers whispered against stone, and the prince saw up ahead of him that Chip’s feet were bare. His toes curled up inside his slippers on imagining how chilly the stone steps must surely feel against the boy’s bare feet.

Surely Mrs Potts has money enough for a pair of slippers for him?

“Have you no slippers?” Adam asked as they made it down the last few stairs.

Chip stopped, turning around with a shrug. “I do it all the time. Doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers me,” Adam said, now shuffling out of his own slippers, fighting back a wince as his feet touched cold stonework. “Have these. I have plenty more—I’m not going to miss these too much.”

Chip shuffled into the slippers. “They’re really big.”

“At least your feet will be warm.”

“But yours won’t.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Leaving Adam’s side, Chip went to fetch a stool out of a corner so he could reach a water pitcher and a couple of clean glasses left aside on the bench.

“I can do this,” Chip said as he dragged the stool over, “I’ll bring water to you. I’m a big boy now, so I can do this by myself.”

Trusting Chip was more than capable—no doubt he’d done this countless times before when thirst struck in the middle of the night—Adam took a seat at the table.

“Have you no slippers of your own, Chip?”

“I hardly ever wear them, even though mama says I should.”

Two glasses now filled up, Chip climbed off the stool and joined Adam at the table, kneeling on a chair. Adam took a glass, taking a sip of water, and to his surprise it did seem to clear his thoughts at least a little. Though much of what he had seen still stayed at the forefront of his thoughts, they did not dominate like a monstrous thundercloud rolling over the sky.

“Guess what day it is now?”

Adam drew himself out of his thoughts. “Christmas Day?”

“No, Christmas Eve. One more sleep and I can open all my presents! Do you like presents?”

I would if I had any.

“Of course. Everyone likes presents, don’t they?”

“What kinds of presents do you like?”

Adam had to think hard on the question—strange how a simple question could be so hard to answer, like one of his old tutor’s riddles.

“A good book,” he said.

“But you have a library with lots of books! I’ve seen it myself!”

“You can never have too many books, Chip.”

“Really?” Chip looked very sceptical over his sip of water.

“When you love books as much as I do, no.”

“I don’t get it.”

Adam surprised himself with a little chuckle. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

“I’ll ask mama about it,” Chip said with a very decided air, “I don’t get adults sometimes.”

“We’re a puzzling bunch, us grown-ups, aren’t we?”

“Yep!”

Chip took one last gulp of his water and scraped back his chair to go put it back on the bench.

“I’m going back to sleep now,” the boy declared, slippers slipping around his feet as he walked to the exit. “Goodnight, Prince Adam.”

“Goodnight.”

With that, the kitchen fell silent but for the clink of Adam’s glass against the tabletop as he took a drink then set it back down, surprised to find he was somewhat calmer now than he’d felt before.

But, inevitably, his thoughts were consumed again with the terrible knowledge of what he had done, and the full awareness time was running out.

It wasn’t as though he’d never been up this late before, but it had usually been for some other pursuits, often of the bedroom variety. Odd, too, was that strange way that drowsiness was always heaviest before midnight, and he was most awake in these small hours. He had heard it was the same for even those who were not normally at their best in these tiny hours preceding the dawn.

Walking back down the corridors to his room (so he might find himself another pair of slippers), Adam considered what a shock it might be to Cogsworth when he discovered the prince desired to lower the taxes.

Does Cogsworth know too of the poor orphanage and the homeless?

If he did, why hadn’t he told him? Why hadn’t anyone told him? Surely, they must have known through friends and family down in the villages. Did Mrs Potts know the poor girl and her family in Villeneuve? Did his own servants know more than he did?

What don’t I know? What haven’t I been told?

Adam had a creeping suspicion it was more than he ever thought he knew. What other terrible things had happened while he taxed his townships and villages? Did he want to know?

They would never have said anything to my father either—

The prince froze in the middle of pulling on a slipper as a bleak realisation dawned upon his heart.

It’s like they’re still living under my father’s rule. Oh God…

Did that not explain everything now? How the servants still remained polite and professional around him? How they never told him of what really was going on in the towns? How they never bothered to invite him into a conversation even well after his father’s death? If they really believed he was still the same person he had been, wouldn’t they have returned to their former friendliness with him? Wouldn’t they have shown they cared more for him than they let on?

What if Plumette was right?

Maybe he was still like—

No. Stop that thought. Stop it in its tracks. He was going to change, even if he wasn’t sure how he’d do it on his own. He wasn’t sure he could do it on his own, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.

I can do it on my own. I’m used to it anyway.

And no one was awake to stop or ask him why he strode out of his bedroom at nearly two in the morning, heading to his study with a candle. If they weren’t awake, no one could stop him, not that they would.

Once in his study, Adam pulled out pencils from a drawer and slapped down some scrap paper in front of him on the desk. But no sooner did the lead of his pencil hover above the blank page, then his thoughts betrayed him by escaping into thin air. Suddenly, he was at a complete loss as what to write. He had to tell Cogsworth and the other servants associated with his treasury something! He couldn’t just leave them an empty page.

What now?

He tried to write anyway, trying not to ramble with his request. If anyone asked questions later, he’d come up with something that sounded at least plausible. Perhaps he’d heard in passing from some guest who had passed through the castle once upon a time. Maybe he happened to overhear some conversation about the orphanage. Nothing that would raise an eyebrow in sceptical questioning.

But as he wrote, Adam found drowsiness catching up to him again, his pencil slipping, distorting the finely-written words. His head drooped forward, eyelids closing before he knew they were. He jerked awake at least a couple times no sooner had the weight of his head drooping forward to his chest startled him.

I’ll rest a while, he decided, folding his arms over each other on the table, leaning his head on them, ignoring the slight cold draft in the room. Just a few minutes…

Judging by the burst of late dawn—the sun itself had not yet broken the horizon—that hit his eyes when he opened them again, a “few minutes” had transformed into a few hours. Outside his door he heard the footsteps of servants walking to and fro in the hallway, and the sound of voices raised in merry conversation, eager for Christmas’ arrival the very next day.

I fell asleep?

The door opened a crack, Adam immediately sitting up straight in his chair, wincing at the ache in his arms and back from having been slumped over in sleep over his desk.

“My prince? You’ve been in here all night?”

Adam turned to see Lumiere peeking around the door.

“Lumiere,” Adam greeted him, waving him inside, trying to ignore the pounding in his head, “Come in, take a seat.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Adam echoed, something in him saddening at such a simple question, “Because…to talk.”

Lumiere sidled in, immediately taking a seat on the spare chair sitting against the wall near the door. Adam noticed how he sat up with back as straight as could be, with his feet placed firmly on the floor, too formal even for the maitre’d. He remembered how Lumiere used to slump back on a chair or sofa, legs stretched out before him on the floor or a low coffee table, completely at ease in the prince’s presence.

“You’re allowed to relax, Lumiere.”

Lumiere looked askance at him. “I am.”

The prince pointedly looked him up and down, then sighed, trying to keep sorrow out of his voice.

“I know you, Lumiere. That posture speaks of tension, not of being completely relaxed in someone’s company. If you were Cogsworth, I would say differently.”

Lumiere looked down at his hands, turning them over in his lap before looking back up at the prince, sitting back in the chair.

“You know, everyone’s been noticing it lately.”

“Noticing what?”

Lumiere gestured a hand at him. “You’re changing.”

Adam stared back down at his notes. “You’ve noticed?” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Let’s see, my prince. Plumette told me yesterday you wished her a merry Christmas, Mrs Potts said you’d shared the longest conversation with her in years, and you gave Chip your slippers for cold feet. After all these years, I should say it’s not something that has gone by unnoticed.”

“Really?”

“It might shock you to know this, but we all have eyes,” Lumiere said, raising an eyebrow with amusement, “We’re certainly noticing.”

Adam looked back down at his writing about lowering the taxes and helping the orphanage.

“I didn’t think anyone would,” Adam admitted.

When was the last time anyone noticed something good I’d done?

“Believe me, we have,” Lumiere readjusted his position on the chair, stretching his legs out before him, a pose more like him. “What’s brought all of this on?”

What could Adam say to that? That ghosts had been visiting him and showing him things from the past and present? He wouldn’t blame Lumiere—or anyone else—for thinking him mad should he reveal such things. Who believed in ghosts anyway?

“The past. That’s all. It doesn’t matter, really. I mean, it’s all over, isn’t it? The past is in the past, let it go, all of that.”

If he expected Lumiere to let that pass with complete acceptance, he was proven wrong. To his surprise, Lumiere stood up, bringing the chair up closer to the desk, so now he sat nearer the prince. He was quiet a moment or two, looking out of the window over the desk, before answering.

“It matters to you.”

“No, really, it doesn’t. I’m—” Adam stopped mid-sentence, his thoughts taking a sharp turn. “Lumiere, do you believe it too?”

“I believe many, many things, Prince Adam, one of them being that I believe I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adam thought of the servants’ conversation in the past, how they believed him to be just like his father.

“Am I just like him, Lumiere?” Adam fought not to let his voice crack, “Do you and the others really believe it?”

A silence, Lumiere looking away, down at his hands in his lap.

That’s a yes.

“I am.” Adam stared through the paper on his desk, visions of orphanages and homelessness swimming before his conscience. “The orphanage will close and it’ll be my fault.”

“Orphanage? What are you talking about?”

“You must know.”

“I haven’t heard anything among the staff about orphanages closing.”

“There’s a lot of servants at this castle.”

“You know what travels faster than light among us servants?” Lumiere quizzed with a snap of his fingers.

Adam shrugged.

“News. If there’s an orphanage closing somewhere in the kingdom, I have yet to hear of it.”

Adam heaved a sigh, slumping back in his seat, ignoring his stomach’s rumbling for breakfast—that could wait.

“This was not in Villeneuve.”

“You forget, mon prince, I am from Paris. Believe me, I hear things about Paris all the time.”

“Paris is a big city!” Adam let his head fall in his hands with a groan, palms pressing into his eyes with despair, his lungs constricting and closing in him. “This was in a small town! I have to save them! Or it’ll be all my fault—the boys will be thrown out without shelter on the streets, just like the many homeless I’ve seen in the—”

“Adam—”

“I was shown all this! A girl dying in Villeneuve because my taxes are too heavy for the father to pay a doctor. A woman who will lose—”

“Adam—”

“I have to do it alone! How can a man do this all on his own?”

“But you don’t—”

“I can’t do this, Lumiere,” Adam’s breath came in straggles. “I’m—how did I never know anything of what was going on? All this taxing—I—you were all right.” He raised his head up, staring down at his shaking hands, “I am just as bad as my father.”

“No. No you’re not. You want proof?”

“What proof is there?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Lumiere made an air of thinking very hard about this, ticking off his proofs on his fingers, “Bringing back music and entertainment at dinnertime, allowing us to have proper Christmases, letting Mrs Potts go to her husband every Christmas, you giving Chip your slippers because you hated for him walking around at two in the morning in bare feet in winter, equal pay for all of the staff, surprising Plumette with Christmas greetings, making sure Mrs Potts was comfortable as possible when she was with Chip, and—let me catch my breath—no tolerance for anyone abusing another—I remember the one time you sacked a stable master on the spot after you caught him smacking one of the stable boys around. And, unlike your father, you have never laid an angry finger on us! Believe me, your father’s done that more than once to us.”

Adam flinched at that last part. “He had?”

“You have his temper, mon prince, but you never use your fists on us.”

Adam’s blood ran cold. He’d known his father would verbally abuse the servants on a regular basis, and he could imagine him smacking them around, but using his fists on his own staff? His teeth ground in his jaw, muscles tightening at his shoulders.

“He should’ve gone for me instead,” he blurted out, “Better me than you. I’m used to pain.”

Silence, stretching deep and long and disturbed. Uncharacteristically, Lumiere’s countenance turned grave. After a long pause, Lumiere stood up, stretching his arms up to the ceiling, trying but failing to be the picture of cheeriness again after the prince’s outburst.

“Let’s find you some breakfast—I’m sure Cuisinier’s wondering where on Earth we’ve got to.”

“How can I eat after seeing there are so many starving out there?”

“Starving yourself will help no one, if I may be so bold as to say it, Prince Adam,” said a voice from the door, both men turning to see Plumette there, “I’ve been sent up here to see where you were. Your breakfast is nearly cold.”

“Please have it brought up here, Plumette,” Adam requested as Lumiere went to join his love’s side, “And if he’s not busy, have Cogsworth come here too.”

“As you wish,” Plumette said, linking her arm with Lumiere’s, “And…” she glanced at Lumiere, lowering her voice, her eyes travelling back to Adam, a small smile lilting on her lips, “I never wished you a Merry Christmas in return yesterday. Merry Christmas—Eve, yes, but—”

“Thank you, Plumette,” Adam said, and to his surprise, he felt lighter for the holiday greeting warming his heart.

“You’re welcome. Your breakfast won’t be far away.”

In due course, a breakfast of sizzling bacon and poached eggs on grilled pieces of toast was brought up to him with a cheery maidservant from the kitchens, who bobbed in a little bow and exited, calling a greeting to Cogsworth somewhere down the hall. Seconds later, Cogsworth himself appeared at the door, coming inside on Adam’s invitation. He took a seat on the vacant chair, attentive and ready for any orders to come his way.

“I gather you wish to talk to me about something.”

Adam glanced at the papers he’d pushed out of the way of his tray. “More or less.”

“I understand it was of an urgent matter?”

Adam pushed his food around on his plate. “Have you heard anything about an orphanage about to close?”

“An orphanage, Prince Adam?” Cogsworth shifted his position slightly, a hand coming up to fiddle with his pocket watch.

“An orphanage that will close by the New Year, leaving many boys and girls homeless if nothing is done.” Adam looked over at him. “Did you know anything of this?”

“Well…” Cogsworth cleared his throat, “I have heard some notion of it.”

“And it’s closing because of heavy taxes.”

Cogsworth tilted his head this way and that, “In so many words.”

Adam’s fork clattered to the plate, heart dropping to his stomach. Sickened, he pushed his tray back, suddenly not hungry anymore.

So he did know.

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“I—I didn’t think it mattered to you.”

“It does, Cogsworth,” Adam said, looking up at his majordomo, “It does, and I want to do something about it.”

“You do?”

“Yes!” Adam shouted, standing up in his desperation to make them see he wanted to change, he wanted them to help him, “Yes, Cogsworth, I do want to do something about it! You think I’m going to let those boys be homeless? How many people are sick or dying on the streets because of me? Because I never knew what my father’s high taxes were doing to our people! I had no earthly idea, Cogsworth, because no one told me otherwise!”

“We didn’t dare.”

“No, because you think I’m exactly like my father.”

“No, no, we didn’t—”

“Do you believe that, Cogsworth?” Adam asked, pacing the room in agitation, “Do you believe your own words?”

“We had no reason to think otherwise.”

“Because you never did anything to help me after my mother’s death,” Adam whirled around to face him from the other side of the room, “You were silent even after my father’s death. Everyone was silent.”

“We didn’t know what to do.”

“I think you did, but chose not to.”

“it was safer.”

“But is safer better?” Adam slumped against the wall, the room spinning around him from sleeplessness and high emotion. “Was it worth it in the end to leave a boy all alone at the whim of his father?”

Cogsworth’s eyes darted about the room, hand fumbling with his pocket watch, an air of discomfit about his shuffling feet.

“Never mind that now. Shall we get back to our earlier conversation?”

“Why? What was it worth?”

“Our jobs. Now, about the taxes—”

“So your jobs were more important than making sure a boy knew he wasn’t alone?”

“You weren’t alone, Prince Adam. Look, let’s just get back to our discussion—”

“You’re right, I wasn’t, at least physically.”

Cogsworth sighed. “What else could we have done?”

“More,” Adam said, but the little energy he’d had left was lost in the weight of his fatigue. “You could have come up with something.”

“Well, it’s all in the past. Come sit down.”

Why didn’t I sack them all before?

He didn’t know where that thought had come from—but it had come to him nonetheless, nudging up against his other thoughts.

Would that have been better? How would I have fared then?

A great desire to demand more answers still lilted within Adam, but it was clear Cogsworth refused to touch the past’s issues and all the pain it had caused for the prince.

If he won’t listen, then who else would? I may as well not bother.

He was going to have to do this alone. He’d always done everything alone anyway, he was used to being alone.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and try to wake himself up—even the delicious smells from the breakfast didn’t work—Adam returned to his seat at the desk. He might as well begin, even if it meant shutting himself off to Cogsworth, battering down the hatches of his expressions to contain the hurricane swirling in his head and heart, seeing it was clear he refused to face what had happened before for far too many years.

At least I know others here care.

#Beauty and the Beast #Of Ghosts and Carols

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