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topguncortez · 1 year

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What to Expect | Chapter 4

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synopsis: The dagger squad comes and visits your students at school. You and Jake share a steamy moment in your bedroom.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, mentions of infidelity, fighting, spotting, cramping, fear of miscarriage.a filler before the DRAMA

Jake probably broke every single traffic law as he sped through the dark streets of California to get to the Kazansky house. He was still in his sleep shirt, boxers, socks and slides, not bothering to put on proper clothing as he got the text from you. You didn’t use the distress signal often, in fact there was only one time in the whole five years that Jake was with you that you had sent a ‘mayday’ text to him. It was when you got into a car accident and were being taken to the hospital. Jake felt like his heart stopped in his chest as he left work to get to you. And right now, he had that same feeling in his chest.

He hardly put the car in park, as he ran to your front door. You opened it before he had the chance to knock. You didn’t say a word as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bathroom on the first floor of your parents house.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jake said, looking you over.

“I-I know Doctor Miller said it’s normal, but I’m still spotting a-and I feel like it’s not normal,” You cried and Jake’s heart broke, “It’s not enough to be concerned but I-I don’t like it.”

“Oh, pretty girl,” Jake said and pulled you into his chest. You sobbed into his chest and he shushed you, running his hand down your back, “If you’re really that scared, we can go back to Doctor Miller.”

“I just saw her last week,” You sniffled, “She said the same thing.”

Last week was your twelve week scan, and you had told Doctor Miller that you were still experiencing some spotting. She did a full pelvic exam and ran more bloodwork, but she told you the same thing she had two weeks prior, that nothing was wrong. Jake wasn’t able to join you because he had work but Bradley had been there with you.

“What can I do?” Jake asked, grabbing your face in his hands, and brushing a tear from your cheek.

“My head hurts,” You whimpered, “I’ve been getting headaches every single day.”

“Come on,” Jake grabbed your hand and opened the door.

The Kazansky house was decorated beautifully for the Christmas season. Sarah took her time making sure every little decoration was done perfectly. A large Christmas tree was placed by the fireplace that twinkled with lights and ornate ornaments. Tinsel and garland were wrapped around the railing that illuminated the steps of the grand staircase. Jake walked to your room, which you had also decorated for Christmas. He led you to your bed, and pulled back your covers. It was still made, telling Jake that you hadn’t even been to bed yet. He wondered how long you stayed up worrying about your unborn child.

“Lay down,” Jake instructed, and you wordlessly followed. You got into your warm king bed, and Jake walked around to the other side.

He slid in under the covers, and pulled you into his chest. You closed your eyes, feeling the familiar heartbeat against your skin, and breathing in the scent of his body wash. Jake always smelled like the earth after it rained with a hint of jet fuel. He lazily ran his hand up and down your spin, trying to calm you down. His other hand danced slowly on your hip, until he reached down and pulled your leg over his hips. You used to sleep like this against him all the time. It was familiar, comfortable. You let yourself relax against him, until you felt his hand on the back of your neck.

“It’s okay,” Jake said as you tensed up. His hand rubbed lightly at the skin, and you could feel the tension in your head cease, “I got you,” Jake leaned down and kissed your forehead as he lulled you into a dream filled sleep.

— — —

You weren’t sure why you were nervous. Maybe it was the fact that you are about to have eight aviators in your classroom. Five of them seemed to have the worst filter that you had ever witnessed in your life. Ever since Jake had met Owen a couple weeks ago, he had been asking when he could come back and visit the class. You had to get permission from your principal, but you decided to turn it into a science lesson and have them talk about what it’s like to fly. Your dad was always on board to come talk to children. He said it was how recruiting the next generation starts.

Your kids were currently at recess as you waited in the front office for your father and the dagger squad to show up. Ice asked what uniform you wanted them in and you said to surprise them. Alyssa was making copies for her class, when she looked up and saw the group walking in. She smirked and let out a low whistle.

“The hunk squad is here,” Alyssa said and you looked up at the front door. Jake was the first one you saw, donned in his summer dress whites.

“Oh god,” You said, and Alyssa chuckled.

“Ooo baby daddy looks good,” She nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Who’s the one in the flight suit?”

Your eyes landed on Phoenix, and you smirked at Alyssa, “Got a lil crush?”

“Shush,” Alyssa blushed, “You can’t be the only one with a pilot. I gotta go get the kids. Get me her number,” You laughed and nodded as the dagger squad walked into the front office.

You clapped your hands and smiled, “Ready to meet about twenty-five nine year olds?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Fanboy said and Payback smacked his stomach, “Sorry. . .heck yeah.”

“We had a briefing on language, they should be on their best behavior,” Your dad said as you led them down to your classroom. The kids were starting to come back and fill the halls of the Second Grade wing. Alyssa was going to bring your two classes in last so you could surprise the kids with the aviators. You had even gone and pulled out some of your fighter jet decorations, putting them up over the christmas decor.

“Alright, you guys sit up here,” You pointed to the chairs at the front. You could hear the laughter of your kids and smiled, “I’m going to control the rugrats before they come in.”

You looked at Jake and he smiled at you. You looked away quickly and Jake frowned. You hadn’t even said anything to him since the other night, and he was confused. He knew that your mood swings were rough at this point, but you were starting to give him whiplash.

“Alright, aviators,” You said as you stepped out in the hallway, seeing your second graders lining up against the wall, “This is your teacher speaking, and we have some very special guests waiting inside our classroom. You all need to be on your best behavior and use your good manners. Alright?”

“Alright!” You kids responded.

You smiled, “Goodness, gracious-”

“GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”

Bradley smiled at the door, hearing the voices of young children. He remembered the time at your old school when he came and played the piano for your class. He played ‘Great Balls of Fire’ and it quickly became the call and response for your class that year. It warmed his heart at the fact that you still used it. Jake looked over at Bradley and glared at him. Coyote could see the way Jake was throwing daggers with his eyes at Jake, and kicked his chair. Jake looked at his friend confused, but Coyote pointed to the door as a bunch of wide eyed second graders started filling in. Jake sat up a bit straighter and fixed the white cap that sat on his knee.

“It’s Mister Jake!” Owen gasped and pointed to him. Jake smiled and lifted his hand in a wave towards the little boy, “I told you he’s real!”

“Whatever,” Another boy said and shoved past Owen to get to his desk.

“Lil dickhead,” Coyote whispered and Jake nodded.

Once all the kids were seated, you walked to the front of your classroom, “Alright my little aviators, as you can see, I have brought some friends in to help with today’s science lesson. I present to you, the commander of the pacific fleet, Admiral Tom Kaznasky, callsign, Iceman.”

“Is he your dad?!” An excited second grader shouted as Ice stood up.

Ice chuckled, “I am her dad,” You nodded and sat down at your desk. Jake was the closest to you, and he looked at you, sending you a wink. You rolled your eyes and focused on what your dad was telling your class. Each member of the dagger squad introduced themselves and said their callsigns.

“Why is your name Bob?” One of your kids, Eli asked.

“It’s my callsign,” Bob answered.

“Yeah. . .but why?”

Bob opened his mouth but Jake answered instead, “It means Badass on Board.”

You groaned, closing your eyes as you heard the gasps from your kids.

“He said a bad word!”

“That’s 500 hundred push-ups,” Hondo said, and patted Jake on the back.

At the end of the presentation, the Dagger Squad taught the kids how to build paper airplanes. It was the sweetest sight as you looked at your classroom and saw the various members sitting next to your second graders. You held your tea mug in your heads as you sat on top of your desk, watching everything.

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked, coming up and resting against the desk next to you.

“Better today,” You said, taking a sip of the hot drink.

“Ginger tea?”

You nodded, “Mrs. Hernandez down the hall said it helped her during her first trimester.”

“It gets better soon,” Jake said, “Rachel said that her favorite part was the second trimester. Things calm down with the morning sickness and nausea, she had a lot more energy, she wasn’t huge-”

“Finish that statement, I dare you,” You pointed your index finger at him. Jake held his hands up in defense and walked away from you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Attention aviators!” Ice said, stepping in front of class, “Your TopGun training is over. It is time for your final hop! This is for the trophy, and the chance to get your name on the plaque.”

“You heard the Admiral!” You said to your kids, “Line up at the door!”

You took the kids down to the gym, where they were going to throw their paper airplanes to see who would go the farthest. It was meant to just be the kids, but you noticed some of the dagger squad had also made paper airplanes as well. You chuckled as Fanboy and Payback argued about whose design was better. The paper airplane TopGun challenge was something Ice did back when you were in grade school. You looked forward to it every single year growing up, and you continued the tradition when you became a teacher.

“Aviators, line up on the line,” You said, and watched as the dagger squad members stepped up, “The little aviators, line up on the line.” Some of the dagger squad rolled their eyes and let the second graders step up to the painted lines on the gym floor.

“Okay, in three. . . two. . . one. . . take off!” You yelled and twenty five paper airplanes went soaring through the air and landed at various spots in the gym. Jake and Bob were on the other side, looking for the top five farthest planes.

“Aviators, form up, so we can give out awards!” Ice smiled.

The daggers had to help the little ones to stand in a proper formation, which caused some protest because certain kids wanted to stand by their friends. Once Jake and Bob picked up the top five planes, they walked over to Ice and Maverick. The “trophy” was just a goodie bag with some candy and a first in line pass for lunch. You read the top four names and had the kids come stand up at the front of the formation.

“The top Aviator, who will get the trophy and their name on the plaque is. . . . Owen!”

The little boy’s eyes lit up as he ran to the front of the formation. You handed him his airplane and the goodie bag. Once the formation was “dismissed” some of the kids asked the aviators to sign their airplane and play with them in the gym. It warmed your heart to see how good they were with kids. You couldn’t help but imagine what it’ll be like in just a short six months when you give birth to your child. You could see it now, barbeques and parties in your parents backyard, the Dagger Squad showing up with more gifts than you would know what to do with. Jake had a bright smile on his face as he jogged around the gym, trying to avoid the dodgeballs being thrown at him.

“He’s good with them,” You said as Rooster walked over to you.

“Yeah, I’ll give him that,” Rooster sighed and put his hands on his hips. You noticed he was wearing his khaki uniform today, something you knew he hated with a passion, but you loved how he looked in it.

“You look good, Bradshaw.”

A smirk rose on his lips as he looked at you, “I am good, Kazansky, very good.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him, “I gotta get the rugrats rounded up.”

“Can I do it?” Rooster asked and you nodded, “Goodness, gracious!” He yelled and all the second graders stopped in their spots.

“GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!” They responded.

“Okay, now that’s fucking cool,” Bradley said.

“That’s five hundred!” Hondo pointed at him.

You chuckled, “Line up, aviators! Time to return to the carrier.” All your kids quickly ran to line up by the wall like you have taught them to. You did a quick headcount making sure you got all of them, “My second graders, what do we tell the Dagger Squad, Captain Mitchell and Admiral Kazansky for coming in today?”

“Thank you!” They all responded. Ice’s lit up with a smile.

“You are very welcome,” Ice said, “Chief Hondo is going to hand you your wings as you leave. I hope to see you all very soon!”

“Jessie, lead them to the class,” You said to your line leader. He nodded and walked towards the door of the gym. Some of the aviators waited by the door to give them high fives, as Hondo gave them stickers that looked identical to the gold wings pinned to some of their uniforms. You felt an arm drape around your shoulders and turned your head to see Jake standing next to you.

“I’m glad Owen won,” Jake said. You narrowed your eyes at him and then gasped.

“Jake, you didn’t. . .” You said and Jake sheepishly pulled out a paper airplane from his pocket and handed it to you. You read the name and shook your head.

“I watched him push Owen into the door when they went to get more construction paper from Ally’s room.”

“Thank you,” You said and held the paper airplane tightly in your hands. You looked Jake up and down again, really taking in the sight of him in his uniform. You bit your lip and took a step forward, whispering in his ear,

“Come over tonight.” Jake opened his mouth to say something, but you kissed his cheek and headed to where your class was.

— — —

Jake came over that night like you told him too, but you gave him a specific time to be there. You had known your dad’s night time schedule since you were old enough to read a clock. Iceman was always in bed by 9:30 and asleep by 10. You had used that knowledge to your advantage, and became very good at sneaking around the house at a young age. So Jake arrived at your house at 11:30, and parked down the street like you told him too. You also had him come through the garage door because it was on the opposite side of the house from your parents bedroom.

Once again, you didn’t say anything as you grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled him through the house. You made him take his shoes off and hide them in one of the storage closets in the garage. He stumbled a bit through the dark house and you shushed him. It felt like deja vu from that night twelve weeks ago, except this time you were pregnant and you both were sober.

The second you got to your room, you closed the door and pushed Jake up against it and kissed him. Jake froze for a second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your hips. Your hands tangled in his perfect blonde hair as you kissed against your door.

“Wait,” Jake said, pulling away, “What are we doing?”

“Fucking,” You said and leaned into kiss him again but he stopped you.

“What?”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Doing the same thing we did to get me knocked up.” You leaned in again and this time Jake didn’t stop you. He gently walked you towards your bed, his lips never leaving yours. When the back of your knees hit your bed, he picked you up a bit to lay you down on the mattress.

The past week you had been having vivid dreams of Jake and waking up every morning desperate. You knew that your hormones were raging, but you didn’t think they could get you like this. And seeing Jake in his dress uniform today was not helping you at all. Your hands roamed Jake’s body, going down to the hem of his shirt, and tugging it up his perfectly sculpted body. Jake only broke the kiss to take his shirt off, leaving him in the jeans that hugged his thighs and ass perfectly.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” You said, pushing his shoulder so he’d lay on his back. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Your hands ran down the valley of his pecs, and Jake watched with hooded eyes as you kissed down his chest. He groaned as your tongue swirled over his nipple, your hips lazily grinding over his hard on.

“Jesus, what has gotten into you?” Jake asked. You sat up quickly and Jake couldn’t believe his eyes as you started crying, “Whoa hey, what’s wrong?”

“I hate you!” You cried and hit his chest with your fists, before crawling off of him.

“What did I do!?” Jake asked, his eyes wide as you pulled your knees to your chest, “Y/N, love, what did I do? Did I hurt you?”

“You asked me what has gotten into me! You got into me! You knocked me up! And now I just wanna rip your clothes off and smack you at the same time!”

Jake tried to bite back a smile as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You didn’t fight against him as you cried into his neck. He knew that this would pass almost as quickly as it started, and you’d be laughing about it in no time. When the sniffles subsided, your fingers twirled around the dogtags on his neck.

“Jake,” You asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Do you think we can go get ice cream?” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and Jake smiled down at you.

He kissed your forehead and said, “Of Course.”

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 years

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Memory ~ Steve Rogers

Summary: When you come back from a mission injured, you don't remember anything... or anyone...

Word Count: 5k+

Songs:

Remember Me – Performed by Nick Pitera The Scientist – Coldplay - performed by Corinne Bailey Rae Good Thing – Reel Big Fish Kiss Me – Ed Sheeran

Warnings: traumatic brain injury, angst, fluff, a really cute teddy bear and really smad Steve...

YN, where are you?

"I'm on my way. Thirty seconds." You were running towards the jet, the mission a complete failure. The rest of your team on this mission, Tony, Rhodey and Sam were already there, waiting for you. You were separated and got caught on your own. You had been lucky so far, managing to take down all the HYDRA agents you encountered. You could see the jet in your line of vision and your thoughts drifted to Steve. That tiny distraction allowed an explosion to throw you against a tree, hitting your head.

YN!

That was the last thing you heard before darkness engulfed you.

Steve waited anxiously for the jet to arrive. It was hard enough for you and him to be on separate missions but his needed to be a deep cover mission while yours was supposed to be easy. Sam and Tony promised they would watch over you. He rocked on his heels and then his heart leaped into his throat when he saw the jet approaching. Bruce appeared with the gurney and Bucky came to stand by Steve. "She'll be ok, punk." Steve merely nodded.

The jet landed and the men rushed forward. You were lying on the center table, a bandage wrapped around your head, cuts and bruises decorating your arms and face. Steve picked you up to place you in the gurney. "Baby, can you hear me?"

"She hasn't responded since the explosion Cap," Sam explains. "Her vitals have been ok but so far no response."

"Let's get her to medical and run the scans," Bruce said. Bucky, Steve, Sam and Bruce pushed the gurney to medical with Tony and Rhodey following closely. Bruce immediately drew blood and started to push you towards the MRI. He stopped Steve from entering. "I can't let you in there, Steve. It will be about half an hour for the scans and then another hour for the results. I'll let you back in when we are done."

Steve nodded and went back to the living room where the rest of the team waited. Tony had poured himself a drink, trying to calm his nerves. Natasha, Wanda and Vision had joined the guys, waiting for news. "Bruce is running test. We won't know for a while," Steve explained. He paced the floor, deep in thought.

Nat was the first to speak. "What happened? I mean, it was supposed to be an easy recon mission."

Tony threw back the drink in his hand. "We got separated. I went in with her and they were waiting. I went to cover her and she got pushed into another hallway. She did great until we got out in the open. Then I don't know how they got the drop on her. The rest of the us had made it to the jet. I saw her and a second later there was an explosion and then she flew into the tree."

Hearing the story made Steve snap. "You were supposed to be watching her," he muttered. He looked up. "You fucking promised me that you would take care of her."

Bucky got up seeing the rage building in Steve's face. "Steve, breathe man." He grabbed for Steve's arm but Steve shook him off.

"They all promised me that she would be safe, that my fiancé would come home to me in one piece." Steve had fury in his eyes, the veins bulging in his arms and neck.

"Steve, we're sorry. We didn't know," Sam tried to explain.

"I trusted you Sam. I fucking trusted you. You're supposed to be my best friend. You fucking promised me that you would have her six! So why is she in the god damn med bay?!"

Nat stood up. "Steve, that's enough." He whipped his head at Nat. "It was an accident, Steve. She's alive and they brought her home," she said gently.

Finally, Steve broke down. Nat wrapped her arms around Steve as he started to cry. "I almost lost her."

Bruce walked back in. "She's stable but still unconscious. Steve, if you want, you can sit by her bedside."

Steve went in and saw you in the medical bed, an IV in your arm, oxygen in your nose. You looked so small but peaceful. Steve leaned in and kiss your forehead. "I'm here love."

For a week, Bucky, Sam and Steve kept vigil at your bedside, while the rest of the team handled everything else. Steve rarely left your side, holding your hand. Sam and Bucky had to convince him to eat something, rest, shower, reminding him how angry you would be if he didn't take care of himself.

On the eighth day, Steve was finally sleeping, exhaustion taking over him. Sam sat by your bedside, reading a book to you. He heard a noise and looked down at you, shock hitting him as your YEC eyes stared up at him. "Holy shit."

"Where am I?" you demanded.

"You are in the medical bay. Let me get Bruce." Sam rushed out of the room while you laid on the bed, looking around.

Bruce came in with Sam. "Hi, welcome back." He started to check everything over. "How do you feel?"

"Sore." Bruce went to check on your heart but you recoiled. "Don't touch me!"

Bruce stepped back. Sam moved forward. "YN, sweetheart, we are just trying to check on you."

"Who the hell is YN?"

Sam's mouth dropped open and looked at Bruce. Bruce looked at you, sympathy crossing his face. "Ok, my name is Bruce. This is Sam. We are part of the Avengers. Just like you. Your name is YN. You are an agent."

You looked into this gentle man's face and understood that he wasn't lying to you. "My name is YN?"

"Yes. You took a blow to your head about a week ago and you have been unconscious since then. Do you remember that?"

You shook your head. You sat up and pushed yourself to the corner of the bed and hugged your knees, scared of what was happening.

"We need to get the team together."

"Ok," Sam approached you again. "I'm going to talk with the rest of the team so we can introduce you slowly to them. Bruce is going to check you. I'll be right back." He left the room to wake Steve and the others. "Steve, man. Wake up." He gently shook the super soldier.

"Sam, what is it?" Steve asked groggily.

"It's YN."

Steve sat up quickly. "Is she ok? Did something happen? Oh god, I knew sleeping was a bad idea." He started to rush to pull on pants and a shirt.

"Steve, calm down. I need you to be calm."

"Sam, what happened."

"She's awake. But there is a problem."

"A problem?"

"She doesn't know who she is or who we are. Bruce had to tell her what her name is. She didn't remember him, or me, or what had happened."

Steve's face fell. "She doesn't remember?"

"No, it doesn't look like it. Bruce is checking her over. We need to tell everyone else. She's scared. Steve," Sam placed his hand on Steve's shoulder, "I know you want to see her but if she doesn't remember who she is, she may not remember you."

Steve felt his heart break. "Ok. I just want to see her."

Sam sighed. "Let's just get the team together and then see what Bruce recommends. This has to be overwhelming for her."

The team was gathered with Nat and Bucky sitting with Steve. Bruce came in. "She had severe memory loss. It may be temporary." He looked at Steve. "It may not. I think it best we just introduce ourselves one by one. Let's not overwhelm her more than she already is. Umm..." he hesitated.

"Bruce, please just tell us." Steve pleaded with the doctor.

"She has asked for Sam to stay with her."

Sam's eyes widen with surprise. "Me?"

"I think this is like imprinting. Your face was the first one she saw. She may not trust you but you were there. I would go back in and tell her about yourself and then we can start introducing everyone else."

Sam looked at Steve. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok. Just take care of her. But I would like to be next to be introduced."

"Yeah, of course man." Sam stood up and went to the medical room.

You sat there, chewing your thumb. Bruce explained what had happened. It explained why your head hurt but it didn't explain how you ended up here. You just chanted in your head, My name is YN and I am an Avenger. The door opened and the same guy as before came back in. What was his name again?

"Hi YN," he said. "Do you remember me from earlier?" You nodded. "My name is Sam."

"Sam," you repeated. "You were here when I woke up."

"Yes, I was. We've been taking turns."

"We?"

"Others that you will meet very soon." He sat by your bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts and I'm a little nervous, confused. What are you to me?"

"I'm your friend." Sam offered you a smile. "I'm one of your best friends." He took your hand.

"You called me sweetheart earlier. And I have this ring," you showed him your left hand. "Does that mean we are engaged?"

Sam stopped breathing. He took a moment to think about what to say. He didn't want you to panic. "No, YN, we are not engaged. It's... a promise ring. You made a promise and you put on the ring to remember."

"Oh. But you like me?"

"Of course."

"And you'll stay beside me?"

"Always YN. I'll be here for you always." Sam stood up. "I'm going to get the next person for you to meet. I'll be right back."

You finally smiled. "OK. Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome sweet... YN." Sam finally realized why you were now making assumptions. He stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall. Steve came down and saw him there.

"Sam?"

"Steve. We have a bigger problem." Sam closed his eyes. "I am so sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"When YN woke up and was panicking, I tried to call her down. I called her 'sweetheart' on reflex. You know I've called her that all the time." Steve nodded. "She took that as I was her partner."

Steve looked at him confused until it clicked. "She thinks you two are in a relationship. Did you correct her?"

"She looked at her ring on her hand and ask if we were engaged. I said no that it was a promise ring. I didn't want her to panic more. That's why she wants me to stick with her. I'm sorry. It was a reflex."

"No, no it's ok." Steve rubbed his neck. "I want to see her, but we can't tell her yet, can we?"

"We should ask Bruce if it will affect her recovery."

"Sure ok. Umm, let me just see her. I won't say anything." Sam nodded and led him into the room.

"YN, this is Steve. He's our team leader."

You looked at the attractive blonde and smiled. "Hi Steve. I'm YN. But you know that."

Steve smiled, trying to keep his composure. "Hi YN. How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok. A little confused." Steve came to sit by you. "Are you my friend?"

Steve felt the stab of pain in his heart. He swallowed. "Yes, I am. All of us are very good friends."

"All?"

"Oh, sorry. You haven't met the others but you will. We are a pretty tight group here."

"That's nice. I live here?"

"Yes, you have a room here. I can take you when Bruce releases you."

"Do I live with Sam?"

Sam quickly jumped in when he saw the look on Steve's face. "No, we don't live together. You have your own room because... because you wanted to have your own space until you got married."

"Oh. That sounds smart. Don't want to be involved with someone who might leave," you said with a smile.

Sam smiled back. "YN, we have to get the next person, but we'll be back." The pair stood up and walked out of the room. Steve sagged against the wall. "Are you ok Steve?"

"Yes, I just... I just wasn't ready for how much that would hurt. She doesn't know me. Three years and it's all gone. And what about her room? Our room. She... I..."

"Ok, one step at a time. We talk to the team first, we'll get a room ready for her, and then we work on getting the truth to her. Everything is going to work itself out, you'll see."

Over the next few days, you met the team and started to spend more time with them. As promised, Sam walked you to your room. It had photos of the team, little knick-knacks that you loved, according to him. You were right in the middle of the floor between Steve and Sam. Steve accompanied you, an unknown look on his face. You made yourself a note to ask Sam but promptly forgot it as soon as your head hit the comfortable bed.

Bucky was the one who helped you navigate learning the tech in your room since he had gone through the learning processes the most recently. But you stuck to Sam as much as you could while he was home. When he left for a mission, you would stick to Steve, Bucky or Natasha. They made sure someone was home with you.

Tony eventually made you a tracking bracelet as you would get lost so much. One incident had you leaving the compound for a walk and not finding your way back through the trees. You thought Steve would cry when he found you a few hours later. Steve was very protective of you, even if you didn't understand why.

A few weeks after the accident found the team in the living room for movie night. You had fallen asleep on Sam's shoulder, much to the ire of Steve. His jaw was hard, staring at you and the closeness of Sam to you. Sam had wrapped an arm around you to keep you comfortable. Steve sighed and got up to get another beer. Bucky had been watching and followed.

"Punk, you need to relax."

"I can't Bucky. He gets to hold her. He gets to comfort her. What do I get? I feel like I am losing her. Like I've already lost her. I love her and she doesn't even know." Steve braced himself on the counter, his head bowed.

"You never know, she could wake up from this fog she's in." Bucky stood next to Steve with his arms crossed. "It's not Sam's fault. It's not her fault. It isn't anyone's fault."

"I miss her Bucky. I miss sleeping next to her, I miss her shampoo in my bathroom. Our stupid stuffed bear she... she insists on sleeping with even though I'm there. I just... miss her."

You stood just outside of the door, overhearing bit of the conversation. You had gotten up to get some water when you heard the boys talking. Instead of going in, you headed to your room. You sat on the couch where a bear was sitting. You looked at it closely, not sure if this is the bear Steve was talking about. You saw some stitching on the paw of the bear.

Steve + YN

Sam knocked on your door a few minutes later. "Come in."

"Hey YN, whatcha doing?"

You held up the bear. "What does this mean?"

Sam sucked in air. Everyone knew about that bear. Steve had gotten it for you after your first fight. He had brought it to you with a smoothie and flowers. You had stitched his name and yours on it and gave it back to him on your first anniversary. From then on, it was "our" bear. "Umm...."

"Sam, please, just tell me."

Sam closed the door and sat across from you. "YN, you and I were not a couple. Friends, yes. But not a couple."

"Oh." You remembered the looks that Steve would get. "Why does Steve look sad all the time? Why does he act weird around me?"

Sam took your hand. "Steve and you were a couple. Before your accident." You looked at him open mouthed. "Your ring... it is an engagement ring. From Steve."

You stood up and backed away from Sam. "You lied."

"No sweetheart, I just bent the truth. I didn't want to overwhelm you with information. You were so scared that first day. I wanted to build trust. I am one of your best friends and the five of us, Steve, Nat Bucky, me and you are the closest of friends."

You started to cry. "You lied. I don't believe you." Why didn't he tell me?

"We just wanted to help you recover, YN." Sam tried to take your hands put you pulled away.

"Get out."

"YN, please..."

"No Sam, get out!" You screamed. Steve and Bucky heard you and rushed into your room. You looked at them, the tears still falling. You locked eyes with Steve. He looked like he wanted to comfort you but you just wanted to be alone. "Get. Out!"

Sam backed away out of the room, sadness filling his face. Bucky followed but Steve hesitated. He didn't know why you were upset but it killed him to see you so distraught. "YN..."

"I can't talk about this right now. Just please, give me some time." Steve resigned in defeat and walked out, closing the door behind him. You laid down and wailed. You didn't know what to trust. You couldn't trust your mind and the one person who you though you could trust was lying the whole time.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam went back to the living room, the rest of the team waiting for them to return. "Sam, what happened?" Steve asked.

"I dunno. When she didn't come back from getting her drink of water, I went to look for her and I found her in her room looking at your bear. She asked me about it."

"Wait, she got up to get water? I didn't see her in the kitchen... oh," Bucky said.

The same thought hit Steve. "You think she overheard me?"

"I think so," Bucky said. He ran a hand through his hair. "Why was she screaming?"

Sam sighed. "She thinks I am a liar for not telling her the complete truth."

It took a day before you came out of your room. Steve left food by your door asking FRIDAY to tell you that there was a snack by the door. You always waited a few minutes before asking FRIDAY is anyone was in the hallway before taking the food. It was curious. You loved the food brought to you, unsure as to why.

Finally, Tony approached your door the next day. "YN, its Tony. Can I talk to you?"

You got up and opened your door slightly. "Are you alone?"

"Yes, sweetie. Can I come in?"

You let him in and sat on the middle of your bed as Tony leaned on the dresser. "You know, the day I met you, you kicked my ass." He smirked at you. "You had to have been the toughest agent in your class. Steve and I were so impressed. When we brought you in for a tryout, Natasha and Clint begged us to let you on the team."

"Why are you telling me this Tony?"

"So you know how much you mean to us. I still remember the day Rogers went to ask you out. He was so nervous. But you didn't make him feel bad or embarrassed. You were so patient with him. He looked like he won the lottery when you accepted."

You felt a tear forming in your eye. "Why does it hurt that everyone lied?"

"Because you don't know what to trust right now. It's my fault for losing sight of you that day. I promised Steve I would take care of you, and we failed. We just wanted to make it right. You were so scared those first few days."

"Sam should have told me. Instead of lying."

"Probably, but knowing what you know now, do you think you would have been able to handle knowing you were engaged to someone you remembered nothing about?"

You stopped and thought for a moment. "No, I don't think I could."

Tony finally sat down next to you. "What do you want to know?"

"Is he a good man?"

"The best."

"How long?"

"Three years. Two together. One engaged. Your wedding is in about three months."

"He's still planning it?" This shocked you.

"Yep. Something to hold on to when he was scared." Tony remembered the encouragement the team psychologist had given to help him hold on to hope. Hope that you would be better soon.

"The bear?"

"A gift from him after your first fight."

You hesitated on the next question, but you wanted to know. "Am I in love?"

Tony smiled. "I think you fell in love with him after the second date."

"Is he here?"

"He's in the gym. Want me to take you to him?"

You had to see him. "Yes please."

Tony got up and took your hand. He led you down to the gym where Steve was punching the heavy bag, his back towards the door. "Hey Cap, you have a visitor."

Steve turned around and his face turned to surprise. "Hi YN."

"Hi. Can we talk?"

"Sure." He sat down and started to unwrap his hands.

Tony left the room and you sat next to him. "We're engaged," you said simply.

"Yes, we were. I – I don't know where we are right now."

You chewed your lip. "I want to trust you and get to know you again. I just don't know how to do that."

Steve thought for a moment. "How about I re-create our first date?"

"You remember?"

"Of course. I remember the dress and where I took you; what we talked about and how it ended. I could do that for you."

"Really?"

"Really. Tonight?"

"Ok. Sure. Yes, ok. First date redux."

"Perfect." He looked at his phone. "I'll come by your room in three hours, ok?"

"Ok." You got up and started to walk out. You turned back around. "I'm excited," you said with a smile.

"So am I." Steve flashed you a real smile for the first time. It gave you butterflies.

You ran into Nat on your way to your room. "Nat, do you remember what I wore on my first date with Steve?"

"Of course. We went shopping for it. Why?"

"Steve, he, uhh, wants to re-create our first date. I want to try and trust him." You blushed, remembering the smile he gave you.

Nat smiled. She took your hand. "How much time do we have?"

"Three hours."

"Plenty. C'mon." She pulled you along to your room before stopping Bucky. "Hey Buck, can you go into Steve's room and grab that dress from the closet?"

"A dress. Nat c'mon..." he looked at your face. "Her dress?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be in her room in two minutes." He ran off towards Steve's room. Nat pushed you into yours and made you get into the shower. As you came out in your robe, she sat you down and started to do your hair and makeup. After what felt like forever, she stepped out to allow you to change. The dress on your bed was beautiful. A simple skater dress in navy blue with lace sleeves to your elbows and matching flats. Nat even laid out a necklace and earrings and your ring. You looked in the mirror at your side sweep hair and easy makeup. Nothing dramatic which you liked.

Nat and Bucky came back in, you twirl for them and they immediately smile. "You look beautiful YN," Bucky says. "You're gonna knock his socks off."

You blush. "Thanks Bucky." There is a knock the door and you suddenly get nervous. Bucky kisses your cheek. "You guys are meant to be," he whispers before pulling the door open for Steve. "Hey punk."

"Bucky? What are you doing here?"

"Helping your girl get confident. She's a little nervous." He stepped aside and Steve inhaled, taking in the image of you. "Wow," he breathed out.

"Hi Steve."

"Hi doll. You ready?"

"Umm... sure." Nat pressed a clutch in your hand. "Lip gloss and tissue, just in case," she whispers.

"Thanks Nat." Steve offers you his elbow and you take it with a glance at Bucky and Nat. They smiled and watched you walk out. He led you through the living room to the door, surprise the team that had been gathered there. Sam watched and offered you a smile. You smiled back, hoping that when you get back you can apologize to Sam.

Steve drove you to a little town near the compound and to a cute little restaurant. He took you to a table in the back. "I don't know if you want me to order for you or if you want to pick something different."

You thought back to the food left for you the last day. You loved everything brought to you and you assumed Steve had done that. "You order. You seem to know what I like."

Steve ordered for you and himself along with a bottle of wine. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Tell me everything."

He described the first time he saw you, similar to the same story Tony told you. Except he described his feelings. How he felt like he was in a dream watching you move. How sassy you were. How expressive your eyes were when he asked if you would come for a trial with the Avengers. You both ate and laughed. You were finally comfortable with him.

After dinner, you went for a walk around the little town. He stopped in front of a closed business. "This is a concert venue. Small but fun. We saw a band play here that night. I couldn't find another one but I thought I would at least bring you here."

"Oh, did I like the band?"

"Yes, it is or was, one of your favorites. I can play you one of their songs." You nodded and he pulled out his phone. The music was upbeat and fun. The song was about not wanting to see the love end. How fitting for the moment.

"This explains the flats," you say. Steve laughed. "It was a lot of dancing and bouncing. C'mon," he took your hand and you walked with him to a roof top bar. It overlooked the town, the lights twinkling.

"Technically this part was part of the second date but since we are missing the band, I figured this was a good substitute." He went to the bar and brought you a drink while he had a beer. You looked curiously at the drink. "It's your favorite," he explained. You took a sip and smiled. It was delicious.

You kept talking. "Tell me about how you proposed."

Steve smiled. "I did it while we were in bed. You had had an argument with Bucky, who was being extra annoying that night. You kept huffing as you got dressed for bed, muttering about how you were going to kill him in the morning." Steve chuckled. "I knew then, I never wanted to experience another night without you. I had the ring for about a month by then. I wasn't sure how I would do it. But in that moment, with you, your hair in pigtails and your cute angry face, in pink pajamas, I knew. You climbed into bed and just cuddled into me. I stroked your hair to calm you as you laid on my chest. It just came out. Marry me."

You felt a tear forming, wishing you could remember the day. "How did I take it?"

"You were stunned, for sure. You sat up to look at me and when you turned, I had the ring out for you. You didn't say a word. You just launched yourself at me, kissing me. I didn't need you to say yes. You said it just like that." Steve could see the heartache of not being able to remember on your face. He took the glass from your hand. "C'mon, one more stop."

He drove you back to the compound but not to the building but to the lake. There was a little dock there that you walked out on. You looked at the moon reflecting on the water. Steve wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. "This is where we had our first kiss."

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. He caressed your cheek, the butterflies forming again in your belly. "May I kiss you YN?" You nodded and closed your eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently on yours. It warm and soft, like a blanket wrapping around you in comfort. It was home, your favorite place to be, in Steve's arms. You remembered this feeling, the love for him, for your relationship. All the hopes and dreams that you shared.

When he pulled back, you smiled. "Your kisses were always my favorite, Grant."

Steve froze. "What did you call me?"

You frowned. "Grant. Am I not supposed to?"

Steve smiled. "What's your favorite color?"

"It's blue, Steve, why are you asking..." You stopped. "Oh my god. I remember." You looked around. "I remember it all."

Steve pulled you up and swung you around, both of your laughs filling the air. He set you back down and you pulled him in for a searing kiss. You breathlessly pulled away. "I'm so sorry Stevie. I'm sorry I forgot you."

"Hey its ok. I just hoped that going back to the start would help and it did. Nobody said it would be easy. I missed you so much. I love you."

"I love you too. We're getting married here on the dock, right?"

"That's how I planned it." He kissed you again. "C'mon doll. I'm taking my girl back to my bed. You, me and that stupid bear."

"Our bear."

"Always."

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #chris evans fic #chris evans #steve rogers story #avengers au #smad steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #no smut sorry #teddy bear #Sam trying to be a good bro

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crying-fantasies · 5 months

Text

Bad company

For most of her existence Max has been a happy go lucky little girl, one Thundercracker spoiled rotten since day one in the best of his capacity, it got you certainly a little worried once you accepted his courting, how was Max going to grow up in an environment with a cybertronian and a human as parents.

Well, for most part, your worries were for nothing, she is a pretty good kid, a good student and also a good member of society, there is the occasional argument but she is a young adult now, it's understandable, but then, one day, it happened.

Thundercracker got you out on a date, he was finally in vacation from his job and while he kept on scribbling words that popped up on his processor you didn't stop him any time he got his data pad out, but, at least, the majority of his attention was still on you while walking on the forest near home after a simple dinner, one thing let to another and you were kissing his intake with such a fervor that he tree he was leaning on his back strut against couldn't hold on any longer, his fall was heard in every corner of the forest and also his signature sonic attack, it was an accident and when he got out of his almost kiss drunk state he looked at you, who was securely on his arms, TC smiled at you with bertroom optics, you knew what he wanted even before he changed and put you on his cockpit where he always had a photo of your full family on the past.

It was almost midnight, way before you both thought on getting back, but a healthy married couple have necessities.

When you got back he changed again to bipedal form, kissing you fervently, you did what you could with the size difference and put a hand over his cockpit, he moaned, or so you thought, because he was kissing you, and that was definitely not your husband voice.

It took a moment to sink, then TC wings flared up dangerously, expression sour, even showing some sharp dentae in a snarl, someone dared to enter his house and he didn't care if it was friend or foe, he didn't know the EM filed that was getting near with every step directed to his daughter habsuit while he feared the worst and you too, but in a different way and reason.

Max habsuit was originally designed to have a seeker like bot or con live comfortably inside, it was more like a department with many levels than a room, and while you tried to stop him when you recognized the sounds coming from the other side of the door it was already too late, Thundercracker opened up the door with his bare servos and leaving dents by the wicked way his sharp digits were dragging along the surface, he could've used the password but the drama was always first.

A drama that escalated quickly with the embarrassed, surprised and scared shouts, you didn't want to look more of what you already saw, your legally adult daughter having fun with a mech and one moment later your husband was chasing away a combat jet from the base/house you were living into while shouting profanities in vosian, some other humans on the base came to look what was happening and you tried your best to keep this normal as it could given the group seeing how TC was hunting down the other mech in the distance.

One would think his anger was going to run out on the chase, and maybe it was to some degree now that he was talking with Max, now with pants on, in their usual way.

"Anyone can frag with anyone, dad, I don't have to marry every bot or human I had sex with"

"Wait, of how many are we talking about again?"

Let's just say they are in a discussion right now.

"Don't talk to me like you were a virgin when you two married" Max points to you both, you look to another place, already knowing the answer for you and TC, who looks offended.

"Those were different times, young lady!" Shit, he said the worst thing possible.

"Oh, oh, so, since you were on the great war or whatever you had the privilege of fucking around to your spark's content, I bet you even" She points up in vosian, now livid, and you still don't understand how she can make such a sound and also don't want to know what it was since Thundercracker puts a servo over his spark chamber as if he is going to have a pulse failure any moment while his wings drop, intake open with surprise, horror and apparent visceral pain.

"Times have changed!"

"It doesn't mean slag!"

Hum, maybe you could put a pair of notes under their doors if this get way too far, ones that says sorry and a little heart, it's always worked before, but that will be the last resort.

"Buster!" TC shouts out to the previously sound sleeping dog, her ears picked up at the second his voice raised, "my little baby has become a spark eater temptress..." it could've been hilarious to see such a big mech crying to his dog about his daughter problems with fallen wings at his sides, face plate hidden on his servos, but you know this is getting serious if it has come to this and you finally talk, "where did I go wrong?!" But he is lamenting again.

"It's not like you did something wrong", you try to touch his wing as soft as possible given how sensible it is, and right now he needs a shoulder to cry into even when a few of his tears were more than enough to drown you.

"It's obvious that I did, now Max doesn't even want to make an honest mech from that youngling"

...

What?

"Wait a... you aren't worried for Max but for the mech?"

"Well, of course I'm worried for Max!" His ventilators hit hard as if the mere assumption of the question is ridiculous, "but think about poor Moonshine!"

"...You know his name" it wasn't even a question to this point.

"I mean, he is a lunarian and his presence is as noticeable as his glasses in a window shop, he is the fastest of his whole batch"

"For how long were you two talking and what about?"

"He is an honest mech" he takes your hands on his servos, looking like he wants something, "such a poor youngling, just for how long this has being going on to end like this, at least he hasn't show his spark already"

"TC, our daughter's sex life is really not our business" you can almost see Max cringe to his words, in the same way you are doing it right now, "if she wants something more serious with this guy then she'll say it"

"I doubt it", he looks at the ceiling, okay, he is being dramatic again, "just look at us, how happy we are"

...

"You are comparing our situation with what happens with Max" again, not a question.

"I was heartbroken when you left..."

"I didn't left, we weren't together to begin with-"

"With our own miracle from Primus' himself..."

"Thundercracker, we've already talked about this, since almost two decades!"

"For a good moment I thought I was in love with someone like... like..."

You know of who he is referring to but this is getting ridiculous, more than usual, "Thundercracker, you know I have never been like him, Max neither, you're seeing this wrong-"

"I'm not!" Oh good, now he is screaming, holding you near his cockpit, it's almost crushing you, "and you can hear and believe me, my love, I'm not letting my sparkling go in the same path as him!"

Oh boy, and he says it with such pain, that's his main worry, isn't it? If there is any curiosity, he is talking about his former trine partner Starscream, you are sure, because back in the year when you tried to talk to him about the baby he shouted: "I don't need a Screamer number two, so you can leave us alone!" while crying his life out with the baby sleeping on his cockpit, not even letting you see her.

His mentor coding kicked hard.

"Max'll be happy, she'll get happily married and have a conjunx, one that cherishes her and... and" ah, he has tears in the borders of his optics, he is practically pleading you with that sad face and you are a little angry in how fast you give into him and kiss him to comfort, to let him know you are here.

He whimpers, holding you close to his face plate, you hug him to the best of your capacities.

"My baby..."

"It's okay, Thunder, she is a grown girl, she'll do good decisions on her life"

Maybe you should've talked with Max a little more now that you know her preferences, it's almost a week since then and you go to her room...

... And that bot isn't Moonshine.

Maybe Max had gotten more about her Vos side of the family than what you really thought at first, maybe it really wasn't good that she was in contact with Skywarp and Starscream since such a sweet age.

#reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #transformers thundercracker #thundercracker #transformers oc

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voicesinthedarkness · 7 months

Text

dreams

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

“Tasha…”

“What is it, Clint?”

He leans forward, his woodsmoke scent comforting and warm, and rests a hand on her cheek. Natasha closes her eyes, leaning into his familiar touch.

Then his lips are pressed to hers.

~ ~ ~

Natasha shoots up from her pillow, gasping. What the fuck was that? she wonders, pushing the blankets off and getting out of bed. Usually she has nightmares, the kind where she screams her way through the night—which is why she lives out in the country, so that no one can hear her—but that had actually been a good dream.

Never mind the fact that she’d been kissing Clint.

As Natasha heads out to the chicken coop for eggs, though, she starts to remember things: stuff Clint had said (“I don’t know what I’d do if you ended up in the hospital during a mission.”), stuff she had said (“I didn’t give you permission to die!!”)… the time Clint got drunk and had to sleep over at her house, and then she woke up and he’d gotten into her bed and was spooning her. She’d felt safe then, at least until she realized she was sleeping in the same bed as her drunk best friend. And it was the first night in a long time when she hadn’t had nightmares. It was… weird.

After breakfast, Natasha decides to put it aside for now. Fury said he’d have a mission soon, and she doesn’t need to be dealing with romance angst during that.

9:26AM

Clint: https://www.reddit.com/r/Catmemes/comments/iyug0e/trust_me/

Did he just—

You: did you just send me a cat meme

Clint: yeah

Clint: you got any?

You: …

You: apparently there’s a whole tumblr thread about cats talking like they’re neglected victorian children?

Clint: lol sounds like cats

10:01AM

Clint: thanks for the meme by the way

Clint: didn’t think you’d actually send one

You: I didn’t know you liked cat memes

You: and you asked for one, so I found one

You: you’re welcome

Clint: :)

You: thanks for sending me one

Clint: of course nat

~ ~ ~

Sure enough, Fury calls her a week later while she’s reading with a cup of tea. “Mission in Brazil,” he says, brusque as always. “Urgent.” Click. “Bastard,” Natasha grumbles, quickly finishing her tea and grabbing her mission bag.

Natasha knows he doesn’t boss her around because he’s a man and she’s a “lady”. It’s just Fury, and she likes that he treats her the same way he does Clint.

2:47PM

You: Clit

Clint: ??

You: CLINT

You: we’ve got a mission

Clint: ah ok

Christ. Romance angst and now she’s texting slang for female body parts. On accident, sure, but it’s still embarrassing.

Natasha arrives at the Triskelion soon after and heads up to Fury’s office. Clint gets there a few minutes later and they head in.

“There are Russians in Brazil, calling themselves the Красные ангелы—the Red Angels,” Fury says. “It might be the Red Room, it might not be. Be as cautious as if it were.” Clint and Natasha nod, Clint’s hand brushing hers. She jumps, yanking her hand away and trying to disguise it by running the hand through her red-gold curls. “Here’s the dossier,” Fury continues, handing Natasha a folder. “Be careful.”

~ ~ ~

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Clint watches Nat in the QuinJet’s pilot seat, brow slightly furrowed.

“Nat,” he says finally. “Are you okay?” She nods tightly. “You’ve… never reacted like that. To me touching your hand.” He rests a hand on her shoulder, feeling the bunched-up muscles. “I’m fine, Clint,” she gets out, but she only relaxes after he rubs her shoulders.

In a small clearing, Natasha lands the jet, skillful as always, and they step out into the humid rainforest around Manaus, Brazil. “Yuck,” Natasha mutters, waving away a mosquito. Clint chuckles, watching her pull out a map and compass and examine them, then point to the left. “Okay, it’s that way.”

Five minutes later, they’re peeking through the trees at their destination.

~ ~ ~

It’s a pretty simple mission. Stealth it, grab the USB S.H.I.E.L.D. saw on a security camera, and scoot. Clint ducks through the front door after Nat disables the alarm, then checks for guards. Clear, he signs. She nods tensely, passing beside him. I’ll follow and stand guard, he offers. You get the USB and whatever else they might have? She nods again in acceptance. They dart through the halls together, finding the file room quickly. “Shit,” Clint whispers, glancing around the small space. “That’s too many files to take at once.” Nat makes a small noise, and he looks over to see her holding a file. He can see her name at the top, in big block Cyrillic letters. Making a decision, Clint takes out the whole file drawer, puts the one Nat found inside, and then grabs the USB. “Come on,” he says firmly, nudging her chin so that she’s looking at him. “We need to go.” She dips her head and they exit the small room, padding down the hallway.

Everything’s still quiet, so the mew is like thunder. Nat turns, tracking a second mew to a door. It creaks open and a small black kitten peers up at them.

“Mak?” a voice grunts from inside. The kitten rubs against Nat’s leg, purring, and she freezes, a small mountain of a man exiting the room. The kitten could fit in his palm. He stares at them, uncomprehending, until he sees the files and the USB, clutched in Clint’s hand. “Hey!” he yells, pulling out his gun. Clint grabs the kitten, which blinks at him calmly even as he swings her onto his shoulders. Then she understands and clings to his neck. Two gunshots boom through the hallway and Natasha cries out. “He hit my lower back—just keep going,” she gasps, firing a shot at the knob to the exit so that they only have to push through, instead of fumbling the knob. The mountain slows eventually, probably deciding it’d be better to stay behind and tell his friends.

They get to the jet within a few minutes. Clint bandages Natasha up, then holds her tightly.

“You didn’t say both hit.”

She buries her face in his chest.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’d worry anyway!”

The kitten meows, pressing against Natasha’s side, and she sighs, rubbing behind the kitten’s tiny black ear. “Thanks for grabbing the cat.” Clint sighs too, kissing the top of her head and getting in the pilot seat. “You’re welcome.”

~ ~ ~

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

What in the heck was that kiss on her head supposed to mean?!

Natasha sits on the bench in the jet, petting the kitten and staring at the wall, finally indulging in her angst. Those memories, the dream, sending cat memes… and now this. The way she felt when Clint hugged her.

Do I have a crush?

“What pizza do you want?” Clint asks, and Natasha jumps. He’s landing the jet on the roof of the Helicarrier. “Oh, uh—meat lover’s.” Clint nods and helps her down the ramp.

He orders after the debrief (and Fury taking the file drawer), when they’re off the Helicarrier, since it has terrible Wi-Fi. “Where do you want to eat? Your house?” Clint suggests, and Natasha makes a sound of agreement, senses entirely focused on her hand in his. Oh, god, she’s falling hard.

At the house, Clint gets the pizza from the door, then plates and napkins. They eat on the couch, not speaking, the kitten exploring the house. “Movie?” Clint says finally. Natasha shrugs, turning to hide her blush at the thought of being in the dark, right next to him. She can feel his stare.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks after a long moment. “You’ve been... off ever since I sent you the cat meme.” He shifts closer, his woodsmoke scent relaxing her. “I had a dream the night before,” she says quietly. “About, um, you kissing me.” Clint touches her arm gently. “I didn’t know you had those kinds of dreams.” She looks up at him nervously. “I don’t.” Her breath shudders, emerald eyes locked with his. She’d never noticed how pretty the color was before, a perfect shade of stormy blue-grey.

“Do you remember when you got drunk?” Natasha whispers. “Do I ever,” Clint snorts. She looks away, embarrassed. “I… I felt safe with you. And I didn’t understand. I was confused and a little scared, and I’m sorry.” Clint takes her hand, smiling a little. “Thanks, Nat.” And then they’re just sitting there, in silence, her smooth, cool hand in his, callused and warm.

Natasha knows he won’t make the first move. She can see his desire, and she knows he can see hers, but that’s not Clint. He’d never forgive himself if he kissed Natasha and she didn’t want it. So she slips her hand from his, pulls him even closer, and presses a kiss to his lips. Clint hums softly, happily, fingers playing with her curls. A tear slides down her cheek, the little traitor falling into their mouths. “Tasha,” he murmurs, pulling back but not away. “Tasha, why are you crying?” She stares at him, blinking fast. “I’ve—I’ve never—it’s always been fake. I don’t know how—”A broken sob rips from her mouth, and he pulls her to his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispers into her hair, holding her as she cries.

#image isn’t mine #clintasha fanfiction #black widow #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #clint barton #my stories #clint and natasha #clint x natasha #ignore the fact that i used a phrase from in his silence

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

Ghost Story - Chapter 36

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2219

Warnings: Swearing, allusion to death (apologizing in advance for this one...)

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks. Also so sorry it took this long to get the next chapter posted- I've had a lot going on :(

Chapter Songs: Wolves Dagger One Is Hit/Time To Let Go

****

Rooster

"Launch."

Cyclone's order came through loud and clear, even over the thundering of Rooster's heart. He watched Ghost take off, her wings leaving sharp contrails as she pulled upward into the cloudy gray skies. He soon followed, racing after her, not wanting to let her out of his sight for a second. Once Ghost had Rooster in her sights at her six, she lowered her plane dangerously close to the choppy black waves of the ocean. Although Rooster mimicked her action, he glanced nervously around. Despite joining the Navy and being aboard a ship most of the year, the open ocean unnerved him. It'd been where his dad died, and even now, after all these years, he could still see the ghostly appearance of Maverick clutching onto Nick Bradshaw's lifeless body in the waves. He'd never seen images of this, of course, nor had he witnessed the accident, but once ten-year-old Bradley fully comprehended what happened, he'd dreamt up the memory. It continued to stick with him.

"How do you want to tackle the bombing runs?" He asked Ghost, needing something to distract him from his morbid thoughts.

"We'll attack the hangars first. If enemies are already in the air, we don't want any more joining them. Then we'll turn around and line up with the next buildings so long as their anti-air defenses allow us," Ghost replied calmly. "About to enter the valley. Setting timer in three... two... one... now."

They shot into the ravine, easily navigating the relatively straightforward geography with precision. Having both been on missions with lower ceilings and narrower corridors, Rooster couldn't help but think what a walk in the park this part of the mission was. Hopefully, the rest of it would go as smoothly, but with how nervous Maverick and Ghost had been about it, Rooster had his doubts.

For fifteen minutes, they zipped through the ravine, only near the end passing SAMs perched on the tops of the mountains. A shudder passed down his spine, remembering the last time he'd encountered one. It'd shot him down, and he'd joined Maverick on the ground. The SAM hadn't been the only thing to ground him that day. Mav might as well have done the same thing when he shoved him, furious that Rooster was on the ground with him. A little arguing, a little shouting, and one good point made by Bradley calmed the irate captain down immediately. Looking back on it, Rooster could laugh, but he certainly hadn't been in the moment.

"Approaching target area. Prepare to attack," Ghost announced, lowering her jet even closer to the ground, practically skimming the trees underneath. "Rooster, get ready to destroy anything I might miss in my first run."

"It's you, Ghost. You won't miss," Rooster said confidently, and he was right. Watching her line up the shot, aim, and fire, she nailed the targets on the head, effectively taking them out in one fell swoop. Below, Rooster could see the terrorists running about in a panic, desperately searching for something- anything- to defend themselves from the onslaught brought forth by Ghost and her wingman.

"See any enemy fighters?" Ghost queried, banking a hard right and zeroing her sights on a new cluster of buildings.

"Nothing on radar and I don't see any in sight," he responded, wary about how easy the mission- which had been essentially deemed a suicide mission- was going. There should've been more resistance or something. What was off? Did they really hit the terrorist base during the one time they had no fighters in the air? Rooster doubted it.

"Shit!" Ghost swerved violently to the left, and without noticing what she avoided, Rooster followed. He didn't have to wait long for an answer. "Enemy fighters! Four of them!"

"Where the hell did they come from?!" Rooster demanded, scanning the skies to locate the hostiles. He spotted two above them, another one to his left and the last one to his right. They circled him and Ghosts like sharks, and a rush of rage coursed through him at the mere idea of any of the hostiles going after his leader.

"Rooster, stay focused on the buildings and low to the ground. It'll be harder for them to target us," Ghost instructed, flipping her plane around to line up for another strike. He simply responded with a "Yes, ma'am," intending to stick to her side until they returned to the carrier.

For the next ten agonizing minutes, Rooster and Ghost dodged the bullets, and missiles set their way, albeit narrowly, using the smoke from the explosions and their superior aircraft to evade. However, Rooster recognized that four against two still wasn't good odds, and they still had to make it back to the carrier without the enemy fighters finding out what country they served. The pilots would have no choice but to shoot them down, and now Bradley realized why the mission had been so deadly.

"Targets destroyed. I have two missiles remaining, plus 529 bullets left," Ghost informed, keeping low to the ground. "Rooster, what's your weapons count?"

"Three missiles and 654 bullets. How do we want to tackle this?"

"They're all Mig-29s, so it's not like we can take the slowest or oldest out first. Let's go for the closest ones. Stay on my wing."

"I've got your six, Ghost," Rooster assured, switching to missiles. They zeroed in on the nearest pair of Migs. Ghost instructed her wingman to stay behind them while she dipped beneath them, unbeknownst to the enemies. She shot up between the team in the blink of an eye, forcing them to break off from one another. Rooster went for the left one while Ghost somersaulted her plane to face the ground and chased after the right one.

"I got 'em!" Ghost announced, a slight tone of relief in her voice.

"Yeah! That's my girl!" Hangman cheered, and Rooster could hear the grin on his comrade's face.

"Bagged mine," Rooster added. "Looks like we're tied now for active air-to-air kills, Bagman."

"Don't get cocky. You still have two to take out, and my bets are on Ghost getting them."

"You going to be okay if she beats you out for number one?"

"She's the only one I'd allow it willingly."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence and the compliment, but we have a long way to go," Ghost said, unnaturally calm in the intense situation. "Let's take care of those other two. They're not going to- shit! I'm hit!"

"What?! Are you okay?!" Rooster demanded, scanning her plane for any sign of damage. "What hit you?"

"Gunfire from below. Appears we missed an AA gun. It didn't hit anything major, but one hit my nose and is causing a blockage for my bullets. I can only shoot missiles now. Guess I'm going to have to make my last shot count, and you'll have to take out the last."

"We need to take care of the anti-aircraft fire, too. If they could get you-"

"Go for it. I'll cover you."

Taking a deep breath and repeating the mantra "Don't think, just do" in his head, he circled around, searching for the weapon that had shot Ghost. It didn't take long to find them. They were aiming specifically for her and still firing. Rooster swiftly locked onto them, releasing a missile at the last second before pulling up to ensure nothing messed with the lock. It was a bullseye.

"Rooster, we need to split these fighters up," Ghost said, pulling ahead of him. "It seems I'm the target, so if we break, they're going to follow me. If they do, I want you to get behind them and take them out."

"That's risky..."

"I know, but I can handle it. Now, on the count of three, you go left, I'll go right. Three...two... one... break!"

Ghost and I diverted paths from each other, and as she predicted, the enemy fighters chased after her. I raced after them, attempting but failing to get a good lock on either. Between Ghost's mercurial flight path and their attempt to follow her, it became impossible. When I noted this to Ghost, she pulled Maverick's signature move: the Cobra. She executed the maneuver flawlessly, albeit narrowly missing scraping the canopy of one of the Migs with her engine. Her action's sheer unexpectedness and brazenness stunned the enemies long enough for me to get a lock and fire at one of them, but my missile missed by a hair's breadth. Ghost took the shot instead, and luck was on her side because hers did hit.

"You have to take out the last one, Rooster," Ghost remarked, flying alongside him as they zeroed in on the last target. "I'm out of missiles, and my guns are useless."

One missile left and some bullets. If Mav could take out two fifth gens in a fourth gen with the same ammo, I can do this. If I can blindly and accurately shoot a missile into a tiny opening, then I can do this. With those affirmations in mind, Rooster steeled himself and began the effort of locking onto the last Mig. He had to make the shot count because both his and Ghost's lives depended on it, and shooting an enemy plane with gunfire wasn't as simple as they made it look in movies, nor as easy as Maverick made it look.

However, their last opponent must've been top of their class because no matter how hard Rooster tried to get a lock, the Mig kept evading. "Come on, Rooster, come on!" he hissed under his breath, annoyed with himself. Maverick and Ghost would've had him by him now, so why couldn't he?

Oh, let's not go down that road... he thought, knowing fully well what the answer was.

"Rooster, you've got this," Ghost encouraged calmly, "don't lose focus."

As if her words breathed the wish into existence, Bradley got a lock on the Mig, a strong one.

"Firing!" Rooster announced. He watched the projectile speed toward the target, unwavering, straight and true and-

"Oh, what the fuck?!" he demanded in exasperation when the Mig somersaulted out of the way, narrowly dodging the missile. Rooster and Ghost zipped past him, now in an impossible situation: her out of ammo and unable to use her guns, him only able to use his guns on a plane that was quicker than his. How could he catch up?

"Shit, he's on us!" Ghost said, flying crisscross patterns with Rooster in an attempt to throw off the enemy's missile targeting system.

"Do you need air support?" Maverick asked, the well-hidden undertone of worry in his voice.

"Negative," Cyclone remarked. "Unless enemies are within range of the carrier, we will not be launching air support."

Hangman scoffed before Maverick could respond. "What do you mean 'negative'? If they're in trouble-"

"That's what made this mission so risky. I stand by what I said. The answer is no, Lieutenant Seresin."

"Rooster, break on the count of three. Hopefully, the enemy follows me so you can get behind him," Ghost instructed firmly. She counted down, and on three, they parted. "Damn it! He's going after you, Rooster! We need another plan!"

"I'm all ears!"

"Shit..." Ghost breathed, her voice trembling. "Okay, I have an idea. Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"Bring him around, so the sun is on his right. I'll come at him from the side and use the sun to hide me. Then, I'll fly between y'all and have him fly through my jetwash."

"Ghost, the timing on that will have to be exact. If you miss it by a second-"

"This is the only way right now with him on your tail. He's in a lighter, faster aircraft, and you're the only one between us with weapons. We need to disorient him. While he's in the stall, you can take him out with gunfire. It's not ideal, but it's him or us, and I'm choosing us."

An ominous feeling settled in his bones. Rooster despised this plan, and all the nightmares that had plagued him from the day he accepted to join the mission to now burst forth in his mind: Ghost crashing into the ground from an unrecoverable inferno. If she died pulling this stunt to save his life...

But they had no other choice. It's not like Rooster had any better ideas. Reluctantly, he did as she ordered. As soon as he pulled into position, Ghost informed him she was on her way, coming at them from the right and using the sun as a shield.

"I'm almost there," she said, "Almost there. And if this doesn't work out, well, no one will miss a ghost."

"When we get back, I'm going to talk to you about comedic timing," he replied, the foreboding sensation running down his spine again. She's got this. You're being paranoid.

Rooster turned around to see where Ghost was, hoping he'd get to watch her fly between him and the Mig so he could time his own turnaround correctly.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, Rooster watched in horror as Ghost, coming in with her plane at a ninety-degree angle, sliced through the Mig, causing a massive explosion. The remnants of both jets spiraled to the ground, along with Rooster's heart and sanity. ****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @mandowife221b @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee

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apertvres · 1 year

Text

an introduction.

i present: lee saeron, police academy dropout turned mall security, american when it suits her, connoisseur of funky food combinations and generally, an Absolute Menace(™).

her profile is here, but i’ll drop some bullets below the cut! like this post if you'd like me turn up in your inbox to plot <3 (please)

background:

born in new york, 2001. mom’s a journalist and dad’s a pilot - both jobs which have them flitting from one side of the globe to the other most of the time.

dad misses the birth, the way he did with saeron’s older brother four years before. when he finally makes it into the hospital room, thoroughly disheveled from a ten-hour flight, he cries and tells his wife he’ll spend the rest of her life making it up to her. he never knew how short that time would be.

saeron’s a pretty happy kid, climbing trees and running after her older brother - generally trying to out-do him in everything the way younger siblings do. she’s said to be a “gifted” child and accelerated two years at school, but to her parents, she’s just their little girl who needs to stop trying to jump down too many steps at a time.

her mom dies in a car accident one rainy day - the explanation given is that the car skidded out of control due to the slick roads, but it’s hard to accept. especially when the notes found in her mom’s safe at home show that she was investigating something big.

their lives become a wild chase, chasing the traces of her; dad jets around the world with back to back shifts as if he can find her in the sky somewhere, brother becomes a journalist to continue their mom’s work.

saeron decides to become a cop to fully investigate her mother’s death; gets her bachelors, trains every single day for the entrance exams to get into the police academy… before realizing this isn’t what she wants. nothing she or anyone else can do will bring her mom back. learning how to chase down college kids dealing drugs loses its appeal.

she moves to daegu where her maternal grandparents live; they returned to their home country after their daughter died. she’s still trying to figure things out, and gets a job at sunset galleria as their security officer after successfully apprehending a thief (by pure luck, but nobody needs to know that??).

funnily enough, there’s a strange sense of purpose she feels working at the mall. with every passing day, she finds herself wondering if it’d be so bad to just settle - if she needs to continue chasing something bigger than this.

personality:

heavily inspired by jake peralta from b99! fun, irresponsible, but surprisingly competent.

doesn’t really take anything seriously, which is both a flaw and admirable quality. can make light of any situation, and brushes negative emotions off pretty quickly.

it’s reflected in her relationships and interactions with people; fun banter at best, witty cynicism at worst. she hands out her friendship with all the ease of distributing religious flyers, but it doesn’t mean much at the end of the day. the kind that has too many friends and yet none at all.

logical reasoning > feelings. she’s not so great at empathizing, but will listen attentively and reason through things together. great at making people laugh through their tears with unsolicited jokes and commentary.

likes social settings, but needs time to herself. very independent, and hates being coddled. being babied?? cue uncomfortable shuffle towards the exit.

has the self-assurance of someone who’s never really failed at anything but has willingly given everything up. can therefore come across as narcissistic and arrogant at times, and it’s made worse because she always does deliver exactly what she promises!

connection ideas:

someone who works at the lotteria / candy nook and a) feeds her free samples whenever she works her rounds in the area b) lets her experiment with whatever’s left over at the end of the day to come up with new “recipes” (read: trash) simply because it’s hilarious and yet… gross…

coworkers! would love a ride or die work bestie with all the dramaticized “i would take a bullet for you” kind of loving except the biggest threat they usually face at the mall is being wacked in the ankle with a walking stick… but also a rival that distinctly reminds saeron of her older brother and the way they’d compete for literally every single damn thing!

so sometimes on her night shifts, she makes her way down to the arcade and someone’s always! topped! her high score on the tekken machine! she’s made it her mission to go back whenever she can to put herself back on top, but after several weeks of futile resistance, she decides to lie in wait to see just exactly who she’s up against…

light-hearted flirty banter on the regular, she always lingers a little too long in his store just to make him laugh and bask in attention… except she ends up avoiding him like the goddamn plague after an accidental one night stand at some party because she’s unsure of what it now means!!!

someone who brings out the best and worst in her. he knows exactly what to say to get under her skin, but then she always wants… him… to get under her skin… in every single way possible. there’s something very destructive and unhealthy about the way he makes her feel but being able to feel angry (just being able to feel, generally) feels addictive. think: cruel kindness!

meet cutes where they’re always bumping into each other at the inopportune moments? she’s sprinting across the mall (to the rescue or to get a freebie before they run out? nobody knows!) when she bumps into them, knocking them off their feet in a generally unsafe… way… and the next succession of “bump-ins” continue much in the same way. she wheels their cart into a shelf of groceries, spills coffee on their white cashmere sweater, etc. not really meet cutes so much as meet horrors.

#sunsetintro #; - out of character

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warningsine · 4 months

Text

The car had broken down as they were leaving Gato Colorado. Leni was amused by the name, and especially by the two cement cats, painted bright red, sitting on two pillars at the entrance to the town, which was on the border between the provinces of Santa Fe and Chaco.

The bad noises had begun much earlier, as they were coming in to Tostado, where they had spent the night in a small hotel. Leni said they should get it checked before setting off again, but the Reverend paid no attention.

‘The car won’t let us down. The good Lord wouldn’t allow it.’

Leni, who had been driving since she was ten and took turns at the wheel with her father, knew when a noise was just a noise and when it was a warning signal. ‘We’ll get a mechanic to take a look before we leave,’ she insisted as they drank coffee early that morning in a bar. ‘We could ask here if they know someone who’s good and doesn’t charge too much.’

‘If we take it to a garage, they’ll make us wait the whole day. We have to have faith. When has this car ever broken down, eh?’

Leni kept quiet. They always ended up doing what her father wanted, or, as he saw it, what God expected of them.

When they’d been on the road for two hours, the car gave one last snort and stopped. The Reverend tried to start it again, but it was no use. Leni looked through the insect-spotted windscreen at the road stretching away and said, without turning her head, but in a clear and firm voice:

‘I told you so, Father.’

Pearson got out of the car, took off his jacket, and put it on the back of the seat. He shut the door, rolled up his sleeves, went around to the front, and opened the hood. A jet of smoke made him cough.

All Leni could see now was the hood with its chrome plating and smoke or steam coming out the sides. Then her father walked past; she heard him open the trunk and shift the suitcases. Two big, battered suitcases, secured with leather straps, which held all their belongings. In his: six shirts, three suits, an overcoat, undershirts, socks, underwear, another pair of shoes. In hers: three shirts, three skirts, two dresses, a coat, underwear, another pair of shoes. The Reverend slammed the trunk shut again.

Leni got out. The sun was scorching, and it was only nine in the morning. She undid the top two buttons of her shirt, walked around the car, and found her father putting out the warning triangles. She looked at the triangles and the deserted road. Between and where they were, they hadn’t seen a single car.

‘Any moment now a Good Samaritan will come along,’ said the Reverend, with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face, oozing faith.

She looked at him.

‘The good Lord won’t leave us stranded here,’ he said, rubbing his lower back, ruined by all those years of driving.

Leni thought that if one fine day the good Lord actually came down from the Kingdom of Heaven to attend to the Reverend’s mechanical mishaps, her father would be more stunned than anyone. He’d fall on his backside. And piss himself too.

She took a few steps on the road, which was full of cracks and potholes. Her heels clicked on the concrete.

It was a place that seemed to have been completely forsaken by humans. Her gaze ranged over the stunted, dry, twisted trees and the bristly grass in the fields. From the very first day of Creation, God too had forsaken that place. But she was used to it. She’d spent her whole life in places like that.

‘Don’t go far,’ her father called out.

Leni lifted an arm to indicate that she had heard him. ‘And get off the road; if someone comes, there could be an accident.’

Leni laughed to herself. Yeah, or a hare might run her down. She turned her Walkman on and tried to find a station. Nothing. Only aimless static on the air. Steady white noise.

After a while she came back and leaned on the trunk, beside her father.

‘Get in the car. This sun is fierce,’ said the Reverend.

‘I’m fine.’

She glanced across at him. He looked a bit downhearted.

‘Someone will come, Father.’

‘Yes, of course. We must have faith. It’s not a very busy road.’

‘I don’t know. I saw a pair of guinea pigs up there. They went flying over the asphalt so they wouldn’t burn their paws.’ Leni laughed, and so did the Reverend.

‘Ah, my girl. Jesus has blessed me,’ he said, and patted her on the cheek.

This meant that he was very glad to have her with him, thought Leni, but he could never say it like that, straight out: he always had to get Jesus in there, between them. At another moment, that display of diluted affection would have irritated her; but her father seemed vulnerable now, and she felt a little sorry for him. She knew that although he wouldn’t admit it, he was ashamed of having ignored her advice. He was like a child who has messed up.

‘How did it go again, that little verse about the Devil at siesta time?’

‘What? A Bible verse?’

‘No, just a verse, a little poem. What was it? Wait. It was funny.’

‘Elena, you shouldn’t speak lightly of the Devil.’

‘Shhh. Wait, it’s on the tip of my tongue. Okay, here we go: “Setting his traps / he’s gonna catch you / casting his line / he’s gonna hook you / loading his gun / he’s gonna hunt you / it’s Satan, it’s Satan, it’s Satan”.’

Leni burst out laughing. ‘There’s more, but I forget.’

‘Elena, you turn everything into a joke. But the Devil is no laughing matter.’

‘It’s just a song.’

‘Not one I know.’

‘But I used to sing it all the time when I was little.’

‘That’s enough, Elena. You’ll make up anything to torment me.’

Leni shook her head. She wasn’t making it up. That song existed. Of course it did. Then, suddenly, she remembered: she was sitting in the back seat of the car with her mother, in the parking lot of a service station; they were reciting the song and clapping their palms together like playmates, having some fun while the Reverend was in the washroom.

‘Look. There. Praise be to God,’ cried the Reverend and took two strides to the middle of the road, where he stood waving his arms at the bright, glinting point approaching quickly through the heat haze rising off the boiling asphalt.

The truck braked and pulled up sharply beside the Reverend. It was red, with a chrome bumper and tinted windows.

The driver lowered the window on the passenger side and the sound of the cassette player burst out like an explosion; the shock wave of a cumbia forced the Reverend to take a step back. The man leaned out and smiled and said something they couldn’t hear. He disappeared back into the cool cabin, hit a button, and the music stopped. Then he reappeared. He was wearing reflective sunglasses; his skin was tanned, and he hadn’t shaved for a few days.

‘What’s up, bud?’

The Reverend rested his hands on the window, and leaned in to reply, still dazed by the music.

‘Our car broke down.’

The man got out the other side. The work clothes he was wearing contrasted with the sparkling, brand-new vehicle. He approached the car and had a look under the hood, which was still propped open.

‘If you like, I can tow you to the Gringo’s place.’

‘We’re not from around here.’

‘Gringo Brauer has a garage a few miles away. He’ll be able to fix it for sure. I’d take you into town, but on a Saturday, with this heat, it’d be hard to find anyone who could help you. They’ve all gone to Paso de la Patria or the Bermejito to cool off a bit. Me too: I’m going home to get my rod, pick up a few pals, and good luck to anyone who wants me before Monday.’

The man laughed. ‘Well, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not, bud. I’m not going to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere, on foot. Not even the spirits are out in this heat.’

He climbed back into his truck and manoeuvred it in front of the car. Then he got out, took a steel cable from the back, and attached the car’s bumper to his tow bar.

‘Let’s go, bud. In you get; it’s nice and cool with the air-con.’

The Reverend sat in the middle; Leni sat next to the door. Everything smelled of leather and those little perfumed pine trees.

‘Passing through?’ asked the driver.

‘We’re going to see an old friend,’ said the Reverend. ‘Well, then, welcome to hell.’

Leni’s last image of her mother is from the rear window of the car. Leni is inside, kneeling on the seat, with her arms and chin on the top of the backrest. Outside, her father has just slammed the trunk shut, after taking out a suitcase and putting it on the ground beside her mother, who is standing there with her arms crossed, wearing the sort of long skirt that Leni wears now. Behind them, over the dirt road of that anonymous town, a backdrop of dawn sky rises, pink and grey. Leni is sleepy; her mouth feels sticky and tastes of toothpaste – they left the hotel without having breakfast.

Her mother uncrosses her arms and wipes her forehead with one hand. The Reverend is speaking to her, but from the car Leni can’t hear what he’s saying. He’s moving his hands a lot. He raises an index finger, lowers it and points at her mother, shakes his head, and keeps talking softly. The way his mouth is moving, it’s like he’s biting each word before he spits it out.

Her mother starts walking toward the car, but the Reverend blocks her way, and she freezes. Like in statues, thinks Leni, who has played that game so often, in so many different yards, with different children every time, after the Sunday sermon. With one arm extended, palm out, the Reverend, her father, walks backward and opens the driver’s door. Her mother is left standing there, beside the suitcase. She covers her face with her hands. She’s crying.

The car starts and pulls away, raising a cloud of dust. Her mother runs after it for a few yards, like a dog dumped beside the road at the beginning of the holidays.

This happened almost ten years ago. The details of her mother’s face have faded from Leni’s memory, but not the shape of her body: tall, slim, elegant. When she looks at herself in the mirror, she feels that she has inherited her bearing. At first she believed it was just wishful thinking, a desire to resemble her. But since becoming a woman, she has caught her father, more than once, looking at her with a blend of fascination and contempt, the way you might look at someone who stirs up a mixture of good and bad memories.

The Reverend and Leni have never spoken of that episode. She doesn’t know the name of the town where they left her mother, although if they went back to that street, she’s sure she would recognise it immediately. Places like that don’t change much over the years. The Reverend, of course, must remember the exact point on the map where he left his wife, and must, of course, have struck it off his itinerary for good.

From that morning on, Reverend Pearson has presented himself as a widowed pastor with a young girl in his care. A man in such circumstances elicits instant trust and sympathy. If his wife has been snatched away by God in the prime of life, leaving him alone with a little girl, and he carries on, firm in his faith, burning with the flame of Christ’s love, he must be a good man, a man who deserves to be listened to attentively.

The above is an extract from The Wind That Lays Waste by Selva Almada, translated from the Spanish by Chris Andrews and available now from Charco Press.

#selva almada #books #The Wind That Lays Waste

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

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Heartbeats - Levi Ackerman x Reader

WARNINGS: Season 4 Spoilers, Mentions of Blood, Stitching up Major Injuries, Somewhat Angst, Ending In Fluff, FLOCH SLANDER

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I REPEAT - SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!! Okay, so basically in this, you replace Hange in the little ride that she, Floch, and the rest of his little group takes out into the wilderness when they end up finding the remnants of the cart explosion. This also means you find out what happens to Levi (poor bby). I hope you enjoy, I had a lovely time writing this!

To put it simply, you were pissed off. If anyone could do a deep dive into your brain, navigate your nervous systems, and land themselves straight into your amygdala, they would find out just how livid you are. Being betrayed by your comrades was one thing. You’ve seen corruption in the military before whether it be in the Military Police or in the Garrison, so you knew it was only a matter of time that a seed of deceit sprouted within the Scout Regiment. However, you didn’t think that there would be so many to purposely go against their oath and betray the core values and people who helped the Scouts become who they were. But the real kicker was that you and Hange, two of the highest ranking people in the regiment, were being led out by gunpoint by Floch. As one of the last remaining captains of the Scouts, you were almost humiliated at the thought of cadets technically holding your life in their hands as the group of you rode on horseback.

“Move along Y/N, we don’t have all day.” Floch said. You didn’t have to turn your head to see the power hungry grin donning the red head’s face. Instead, you scoffed and moved one of your hands up to tug the hood of your cape lower over your face. The rain was pelting your back relentlessly and you shuddered a little at the chill that ran down your back. Of course the rain had to come to make this experience even more miserable than it already was. You wished that Hange was by your side on this little outing, but of course, the little group headed by Floch would only take one of you out at a time. Pay no mind, just try to get through this, you tell yourself, gritting your teeth. You turn your focus onto happier thoughts to try and propel yourself through this little “mission”. Your mind flitted to random, somewhat material things; a freshly washed and dried long sleeve shirt, a cup of soothing tea, and using your ODM gear just for fun. But, like all thoughts of yours tend to do, they all turned onto the man that had been stationed out in the woods for weeks. Levi Ackerman. Four, maybe five years ago, you never would have thought that the gray-eyed man could become anything closer to you than a colleague, much less a boyfriend. But, things just fell weirdly into place, setting up your relationship. Oh, what he would say when he finds out what has been happening back at HQ, you muse, your mouth twitching into a small smile. However, your somewhat appeased expression morphed into one of confusion when a sudden cracking noise reverberated through the air and landed on the ears of you and the group of traitorous scouts.

“Uh… Floch?” You hear one of the scouts say, their voice laced with concern.

“What the hell was that?” Floch asks.

“Thunder maybe?” Another scout chimes in, not sounding confident in their answer. Your eyebrows knit in perplexity as your eyes narrow in the direction the sound came in. Then, it all comes together. A Thunder Spear. You conclude. A lump in your throat forms. But why? The only people out in the woods would be… Levi.

“Let’s head in that direction.” The redhead concludes. The group wordlessly kicks their horses into a canter as everyone heads toward a more northern direction. It’s only when you get closer to the forest’s tree line that you see where that sound came from. In the short distance, a somewhat mangled titan was laying down on its stomach, but closer to you was the wreckage of a wooden cart. Planks of wood were sticking out haphazardly, and to your sorrow, so were two horses. You heard the murmurs of confusion from Floch’s group, but your focus remained on one of the horses. Why was your attention captured by such a sad sight? This poor, jet black horse was on its side. It almost reminded you of Levi’s… no, it looks exactly like his horse. Hurriedly, but not so fast as to draw attention to yourself, your eyes and head dart around the surroundings of the wreckage. Over the drenched plains and tall grass, nothing was out of the norm. Until your eyes landed a green Scout Regiment cloak with its hood up, definitely covering a person’s body that you recognized immediately. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Without hesitation, you hopped off your horse - your feet almost getting tangled in the stirrups of the saddle - and sprinted towards the cloak-wrapped body.

“CAPTAIN Y/N, DO NOT RUN OFF!” Floch shouts over the downpour of rain. Paying no mind to the mud that caked your boots and the stinging of the tall grass as it cut and pricked your face. You reach him and flip him over immediately. As soon as you see his face, you audibly gasp. A long, slightly deep cut stretched from just on top of his right brow, over his right eye, over his mouth, and then finally stopped at his chin. Substantially sized wood chips were buried into his left cheek. What made your hands shake, though, was the fact that all over his pale face and stuck in his silky black hair was his blood. You jostle him once, then twice, and then finally a third time to yield no movement from him.

“ARE YOU ALIVE?” You shout into his ear, your voice trying to reach his eardrums. “ANSWER ME, PLEASE!” You feel your heart breaking as his lips don’t move and his eyes don’t flutter with movement. Never did you think that your time with him would run out. Humanity's strongest soldier, the captain of the special ops squad, and the love of your life taken out of the world just like that? No. He was too stubborn, too hellbent on avenging Erwin and making sure that you don’t get yourself into ‘dumb predicaments’ as he likes to say. You hug his limp body close to you and press your ear to his chest. You knew that Floch and his cronies would be surrounding you soon, but you just wanted one last moment with you and him alone. Your eyes closed as you nestled yourself into him in a last ditch effort in order to find some final comfort from him. All you could hear was the rain and the faint squelching of the “Scouts’” boots coming towards you. But then, as light as a feather, a heartbeat. Your eyes shoot open as you press your ear against his chest closer to his chest, trying to make sure what you heard wasn’t a hallucination. Another heartbeat, although faint, was there. You didn’t have time to react when you heard a voice from behind you.

“I don’t know what happened, but we got lucky. Our biggest threat, now covered in his own blood.” Floch’s words pierced your heart. How he could be so insensitive, so disrespectful of a human life.

“I’ll send a shot through his head.” Another one said.

“He’s dead.” You quickly say, earning silence from the rest of the group. If he’s going to stay alive, I have to act fast. I have to make up stuff on the fly. You say to yourself. “He must have been hit by a Thunder Spear explosion at close range,” you say, incorporating the cracking noise that everyone heard. “I saw something similar in a training accident when Hange was in the developing stage with prototypes. He might not look dead, but his vital organs are in shreds. He died immediately from the internal bleeding.” You say, trying your best to convince them that Levi was, in fact, ready to be buried six feet under. You look up to Floch, forcing tears to spring from your eyes in order to fully sell the effect.

“Well, I know how to take a pulse. Lemme see him and I’ll check to make sure that he is, as you say, dead.” Floch said, nonchalantly. Shit. But, like some higher power was looking down on you, the titan near the treeline produced a strange smoky-like substance, gaining the attention from the group.

“What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen anything like this before.”

“What do we do?” Comments from everyone in the group were voiced, everyone’s eyes - including yours - trained on the origin of the smoke. And there, like he emerged from a phoenix’s ashes, was Zeke. Your eyes widen, and then narrow. They’re obsessed with Zeke and Eren. This is my chance. Gripping Levi as tightly as you can and putting all of your energy into this exact moment, you launched you and Levi into the river that ran right next to you. You could hear the warped voices of the traitorous scouts as you plunged into the freezing water, but you couldn’t and wouldn’t turn your head. They had the guns, they had the manpower, and they had the higher ground. The only way you and Levi would survive this is if you swam down the river. So, you swam, and swam, and swam.

You gasp and cough up water as you resurface, immediately putting your efforts into getting Levi out of the river water. You manage to push his body and roll it a foot away from the riverbank before you get swept under the water again. FIGHT, DAMMIT! You scream to yourself, clawing your way out and onto the land next to Levi. With another cough and hack, you grab hold of your unconscious boyfriend and somewhat drag, somewhat carrying him into the woods to find what little shelter you could get. You whip your head around quickly to survey your surroundings, finding solace in the fact that it’s just the two of you.

“O-okay,” you waver, your mind strained and your body exhausted, “there’s no one here or after us right now. We’re safe for right now.” You say, hopeful that Levi could hear you. You quickly make a camp out of the supplies that you had on your back as well as the things you could find in nature. Thankfully, every scout - captain or cadet - was required to carry a full tent and sleeping pack, so as quickly as you could, you set those both up. From when you were hammering in the little pegs of the tent and unfolding and rolling out the sleeping pack, you kept a watchful eye on Levi. Finally, everything was set up and a small campfire was roaring. Now, you could officially tend to him. You peel back the cloak from his body and set in near the fire to dry it off. Pulling Levi gently over and onto the sleeping pack, you brush back his hair from his face so that you could fully assess his injuries.

“Oh Levi…” You murmur, taking in that big scar again. There was no doubt that he had gone blind in his right eye. All you could hope was that there is no infection. So, quickly, you take out your first aid kit and get to work. First, you start to remove the wood chips from his face with tweezers. “You know, you would be furious if you saw how Floch treated Hange and the rest of the leading officials within the Regiment. Probably would’ve ended him right then and there.” You blab, trying to distract yourself and talk to Levi at the same time. Pulling wood out of your boyfriend’s face was not something you loved doing. Thankfully, there weren’t that many chips and they didn’t splinter, so that work was quick. Now came the monstrous task of stitching up those gashes stretching across his face. The one on his cheek didn’t worry you, but the one stretching across his eye and mouth most definitely did. So, to try and fuel your confidence, you start with the smaller and less dependent one. After a couple of shaky tries, you finally thread the needle and tie a knot at the end of it to prevent the stitch from coming undone.

“Okay, you can do this Y/N. It’s just like when your mom used to stitch up your clothes, right? Just nice and slow…” you say to yourself, bringing the needle to his mangled skin. “Levi, I can’t believe you’re making me do this you asshole!” You whine, a few tears falling from your eyes as you finally stick the needle through his skin and stitching it together. You got into a steady rhythm, messing up a bit here and there, but eventually getting the job done. You grab the little thread scissors and snip off the end of the thread, tying the little thread at the end of the gash tightly, but not as taut as to rip the stitching.

“Now onto the big one.” You breathe, prepping yourself. With a deep breath and a scrunch of your eyes, you begin at his chin and start making your way up. It was a short distance to stitch to his bottom lip, but you hated to sew that part up. Those lips were always so soft against your skin. From pressing butterfly kisses to your shoulders when you would wake up in bed, quick ones to your forehead before leaving for a mission, and passionate ones to your lips when you would finally get back, those lips comforted you and helped you through the tough reality of living. Now, you had to leave a permanent reminder on his lips that he wasn’t as invincible as he might’ve once thought. You tie that part off before starting at his top lip, making your way up to his eye. This was the part you were dreading. Those silver irises drew your attention in whichever situation you were in. Whether it be a meeting of the minds or just a quick glance his way, you would get absolutely lost in those gray pools. Now, he would have only one and his vision would be used through a single eye.

“Come on L/N, you’ve got this.” You whisper while starting to stitch his eye. It was a rough, uncomfortable experience, but finally you made it over his eye and to his forehead. And, with one last tie and a snip from the scissors, you were done. The last thing you had to do was wrap his right hand. You discovered, when dragging him through the river, just how far his injuries extended. Two of his fingers, his middle and index, were cut clean off. It pained you to know that he would have to relearn how to use ODM gear again. The tool he was a master and artist at using, making himself look graceful and deadly at the same time, he would have to relearn. You just covered his hand and wounds quickly, and let your mind veer from that. You cleaned his face again, swiping a clean strip of your shirt, a piece you ripped off, and went carefully over his stitches and took extra care in the more tender areas. Then, you threw it to the side and plopped down at his side, staring at the grass in front of you.

“What the hell do we do now…” You say, your voice dry and void of life, your eyes sullen. “We can’t stop Zeke between you, me, and the rest of the scouts we have on our side. Eren’s on this weird and insane rampage, ostracising Mikasa and Armin from himself, as well as the rest of us. The Yeagerists are becoming this crazed cult by seizing control over everything… I just do not know what to do.” You confess, laying all of your feelings out for him to, hopefully, hear. Glancing back at Levi, you see he’s still motionless. However, you see the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and that comforts you for now.

Levi is still unconscious when you begin formulating ideas on how to get him back or get help in general. Armin, Mikasa, and the rest of the 104th cadets were being kept somewhere, you knew that much. You had no way of knowing where they were keeping Hange or how she was doing, and the other top ranking officials of each of the different regiments were either colluding with the Yeagerists or being beaten to a pulp by them. Even Hitch, a member of the Garrison that everyone had taken a large liking to, was probably still guarding Annie who was stuck in her crystal for four five years and counting. Your thoughts were put to a hold, though, when a beam of light and a booming sound erupted from the walls. You spun around to face the light, absolutely dumbstruck at the sight. You had seen something like this before, for example whenever Armin or Eren changed into their respective titans, but this was something different.

“Oh my-” You begin to say, but then a strangled sounding groan was voiced. Levi. Whipping your head to face him, you find the black-haired man sitting up slowly and grumbling.

“The Beast… That piece of shit… where is he…?” You quickly make your way over to him, pressing a gentle hand to his stomach.

“Hey, easy, lay back down.” You order softly. To your surprise, he complies. “Zeke went back to Shiganshina with the Yeagerists.” You explain, trying to answer Levi’s question. You see the absolutely defeated look in his eye, but was not able to see his frown through the wrappings you had placed around his head to dress his wounds. “Levi,” you ask softly, bringing your hand to lightly hold his left hand, “what happened?” His gaze left yours to look beyond yourself, maybe towards the sky.

“I screwed up. I didn’t take into question whether Zeke was ready to die or not. I guess he was since he triggered that thunderspear I had aimed towards his neck. I let him get away. Again.” His eyes went back onto yours.

“I… I know you’re upset and you want your revenge, I really do. But, for right now, I think that we-”

“If we keep running and hiding, where the hell will that get us.” Levi interrupts. You press your mouth into a tight line and look away from him.

“I know, I agree.” You say, sighing. “We’ll get back there, back into the action. We’ll make things right.”

“My goal is to kill Zeke.” He says. You know that killing Zeke has been on his mind ever since Erwin, and you know it will never leave it. However, you can’t stop the worry that rises within you when you think about how that may be Levi’s only goal. How after he completes it, he won’t make new goals or find new dreams to carry out within life. Your body goes a bit rigid and now you turn away from him completely. However, if you could see Levi’s face, you would know that he realizes how his wording found a way to hurt you, and he hated that. He hated the thought that you had to risk your neck for his, take care and stitch him up, and now put up with him. “Y/N-”

“No, I understand.” You say, turning your face back to his and pressing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes onto your face.

“Y/N.” He says more forcibly now, causing your fake smile to drop. “Killing Zeke is my goal. It’s not my entire life's purpose.” Tears start to well in your eyes as you bite your cheek, willing them to stop.

“Okay.” You croak, grasping onto his hand tighter. You feel his grip on you tighten as well. “Levi Ackerman, we will get through this, do you understand me? You are not allowed to die on me until we are both old and gray and on rocking chairs outside on the little patio in front of our house, got it?” You say, letting the tears flow freely.

“Until we’re old and gray.” He repeats, nodding. You sigh out of pure exhaustion and lay down next to him.

“It fucking sucked stiching you up. I don’t understand how medics do that.” You say, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, well, I could tell the stitches are shoddy at most. You’ll probably leave me with an ugly ass scar across my face.” He bites back. This earns a smile from you as you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his left cheek.

“You could prove to be a whole lot nicer to me. I had to drag your ass through a river.”

“I would’ve paid money to see you swim.” He muses, earning a drop of the jaw from you.

“Hey, I can swim fine!” You reason. A few beats of silence pass.

“Thank you. For dragging me away from those little shits and cleaning me up.” You nod and let one of your hands fall on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s steady and consistent this time, causing a smile to spread across your face as you close your eyes.

“I love you.” You say, grasping onto his shirt.

“I love you too. And I promise, for the rest of your life, I’ll be there for you too.” Unfortunately, the last part of confession falls upon deaf ears on your part since you passed out into a much needed sleep. That’s okay to him, though. He would be there by your side to tell you that again, and again, and again.

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sleepyowlwrites · 2 years

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find the word tag CCCVI

I need to go to bed since I'm back to getting up at six tomorrow, but I am, unfortunately, awake. so I guess I'll do a tag. why not. also there is some animal outside shuffling around. @woodhousejay @talesofsorrowandofruin

shade (dirt in the doing, 2022)

“I don’t have housing right now.”

Jet pauses in stuffing his backpack to watch how Shadow’s face crosses from one shade of misery to the next. He still can’t tell what each of them mean, but he sees that they’re different. “Did you ask Moss if you could stay at the garage?”

“I don’t want to stay there. It’s big.”

heavy (meta-portal, 2021)

“Hyunjae!” Changmin interrupts, because he is an interrupter. He’s smiling very brightly. “We have need of your services.” Hyunjae looks around for a chair. Jisung coaxed Yeonjun onto his lap so Hyunjae has somewhere to sit. “Aren’t I heavy?” Yeonjun whispers. Jisung snorts. “You weigh as much as two heads of lettuce and cucumber. You’re fine.”

small (youth story supplemental)

It was a well-known fact that Nyks had comically small hands.

“Comically? They’re just not giant hands, like R’s.” Nyks pouting as he clenched his fists tighter, all too aware that the action only highlighted what he was protesting.

R held out his own hands for inspection, then pulled at one of Nyks’ to compare. “They’re not giant. Yours are just baby hands.”

warm (dreams, whispers, fireflies, 2017)

you are a leaf fall in autumn you are a wind down the mountain you are a heartache and you are a pretty pain

you are a warm fireplace you are affectionate nicknames you are a ship and you are an airplane

calm (the pause that we call a season, 2020)

people said the silence was a spell cast by dragons their wings dip behind the clouds and cover the sun we dare not speak lest we tempt them to sing and in so doing, end the winter while the water is burning people said the calm was a boon of anticipation but I think, actually, we are just dying

garden (paper hearts, 2015)

We might be unconventional But love, this is our fate We carve it from the tree trunks When we're leaving the garden gate All the roses and the breathless nights Running around in the rain If given the chance to go back Oh darling, I'd do it all the same

older (youth story d0)

Nyks wasn’t scared of Evie, but he was not very fond of how she stared at him like she saw through him. And not because he was see-through, either. “You’re joking.”

“Smart kid.”

“I’m older than you,” he mumbled. Evie acted like she didn’t hear him. “Did Daniel suggest the ‘in love’ thing?”

The corner of Evie’s eyes creased ever so slightly.

Nyks nodded into his noodles. “I’ll tell him to prepare for death.”

“Please. Slight maiming at the most.”

accident, beyond, tired, shadow. BONUS: create, trance. @monstrouswrites @mecharose @ambsthom @kaiusvnoir @diphthongsfordays @alinaaaaaa @zoya-writes OR ANYBODY

#find the word tag #searching circle

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

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Stranded Part 1–Zac Efron

Part 2

Trigger Warnings: plane crash, accident

One minute, I'm taking Netflix's private jet back to America ten hours after the rest of the cast and crew because the star of the show had a hangover.

The next, I'm waking up stranded on a deserted island surrounded by burning plane debris.

I'm not sure what happened. I tried to remember, but my head was pounding too hard and I could barely keep my eyes open.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone ask. "Hey! Can you hear me?"

I lifted my head to see I was still strapped into my first class seat that was somehow tilted. I looked up to see Zac looking around.

"What happened?" I asked, barely able to breathe.

"We crashed."

I looked over when I heard him let out a painful gasp as he undid his seatbelt and fell to the sand. I glanced at my seatbelt and tried to undo it but slowly started to panic.

"Can you undo yours?" He groaned in pain as he slowly sat up.

"No," I stuttered. "It's stuck."

I gasped when a pair of hands gently moved mine. I looked up to see Zac standing in front of me.

"Hang on," he said oddly calm. It was getting harder and harder to stop the anxiety attack as he struggled to get my seatbelt undone.

"Over there," I said, lifting my shaking hand and pointing at something in the debris. Zac followed my finger but couldn't see what I did.

"There's a toolbox," I said, my head throbbing. "It's over by the wing. . . that's on fire. It's yellow."

"I see it," Zac said with a small relieved smile.

He looked at me, his smile dropping as he hesitated. He sighed before finally running over to it. I tried to slow my breathing as he rummaged through the toolbox. I let out a sigh of relief when he found a pocket knife. He ran back over to me and hesitated.

"Hold onto me."

"What?" I asked, still struggling to breathe.

"Hold onto me so you don't fall and hurt yourself," he explained gently.

I hesitated before slowly putting my hands on his shoulders. I held my breath as he cut through my seatbelt. Once it was undone, I gasped as I fell. Zac instantly caught me, slightly holding me up. I looked up at him, my breath getting caught in my throat when I noticed how close we were.

"Are you okay?" He asked under his breath.

"I think so," I stuttered.

With his arm wrapped around my waist, he led me over to the trees. We sat in the shade, trying to wrap our heads around everything that's happened.

"What are we going to do?" I asked under my breath. I ran my fingers through my hair, struggling to catch my breath. "We're stuck here. What if. . . What if they never find us? How are they going to? I mean. . . We're in the middle of nowhere and what if they. . . What if they don't know where we went down. . ."

"Y/N," he gently interrupted me.

I got lightheaded as I continued to struggle to breathe. I gasped when he moved so he was kneeling in front of me. He reached forward and gently grabbed my face, making me look at him.

"Breathe," he whispered. "We're going to be fine."

"We don't know. . ."

"Y/N," he said when I didn't continue. "I promise. We are going to be fine. Netflix's jet is up to date and has great tracking abilities. They know exactly where we went down. Someone will find us."

"How do you know?" I asked under my breath.

He smiled softly as he gently rubbed his thumbs on my cheeks. "We're going to be fine," he whispered. "I'll make sure of it."

I nodded as he slowly let go of my face. He sat back in the sand and looked around the island.

"First things first," he said, clearing his throat, "we should see what we can salvage from the wreckage. Then we should walk around and make sure we're alone."

"And then what?" I asked when he didn't continue.

"Then," he sighed, running his hand through his hair, "we wait for someone to find us."

* * * * *

After going through the wreckage, we found a first aid kit, some food and water, one blanket, a few random tools, and an emergency kit with a flashlight, some matches, and a flare.

We spent the next few hours searching the island and sorting through what we found in the wreckage. While Zac was setting up a shelter, I was going through the food we found. I looked up when I heard Zac let out a pained-filled gasp.

"Are you okay?" I asked,

"I'm fine," he said through his teeth. "I cut myself."

My heart jumped when I saw the blood trickling down his arm. I quickly jogged over to him and inspected the wound.

"We have a first aid kit, but we should wash it out first."

"We don't have enough water," he sighed. I grabbed a cup we found in the wreckage from the drink cart and led him to the ocean.

"This is going to hurt," I warned before carefully pouring water over his cut. I bit my lip when he gasped in pain. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said as he took a pained breath.

After I rinsed out his wound, I led him back to the shade. I had him sit down before kneeling in front of him. I tried to ignore his eyes on me as I examined his wound.

"Good," I said, letting out a sigh of relief.

"What?" He asked.

"It's not that deep," I explained. "You don't need stitches. We just need to cover it so it doesn't get infected."

I went through the first aid kit and found what I needed. I put some disinfectant over his wound before carefully wrapping his arm with gauze. When I was finished, I looked up at him and bit my lip when I saw the way he was staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I just. . . I didn't know you could do that," he whispered.

"Oh," I said under my breath as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "I actually trained as a nurse."

"You did?" He asked, a little bit of surprise coming through in his voice. "Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to sound that. . . surprised."

"It's okay," I chuckled.

"I hope this doesn't make me an ass but if you were trained as a nurse, why are you working for Netflix?"

"Zac," I said, clearing my throat. "Do you even know what it is I do?"

"Well," he hesitated.

"Do you know why they had me fly out later with you instead of anyone else?" I asked, struggling to hold back my laughter.

He chuckled, nervously scratching the back of his head. "I guess I don't," he said slowly. He cleared his throat before glancing at me. "Sorry, Y/N."

"It's alright," I chuckled. "You're Zac Efron."

"What does that mean?" He laughed.

"It's just. . . You have a reputation as a. . ."

"As a player?" He joked.

"No," I said quickly. "Rumors are rumors. . ."

"Tell me," he smiled. "Come on. I can take it."

"Fine," I sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Zac laughed as he put his hands up in defense. "Give it to me."

"People say you're self-centered and only care about yourself," I sighed. "They say that you remember bodies, not faces and definitely not names. All the cliché shit they say about actors, they say about you."

"Wow," he chuckled. He cleared his throat before softening his eyes. "Look, I'm not like that."

"I know," I shrugged.

"Really?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Come on," I sighed. "Those headlines and magazine covers are just gossip. They can make anyone look bad."

"Not you," he blurted out. He awkwardly cleared his throat before looking away. He turned back towards me and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "What is it that you do for Netflix?"

"I'm the set medic," I chuckled. "In other words, I follow you across the world making sure you don't do something stupid and end up getting yourself killed."

* * * * *

That night, I couldn't sleep. I found myself constantly tossing and turning. When I finally fell asleep, my dreams were filled with the events of the past few hours. I was stuck in my seat again, but no one was with me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get free.

"Y/N?" I thought I heard someone say. I looked around but didn't see anyone.

"Hello?" I called out. I had tears streaming down my face as I continued to look around the abandoned beach.

"Y/N," the voice said again. "Wake up."

Wake up?

I gasped when I felt like someone was shaking me. It felt like someone was gently holding my face as they pleaded for me to wake up.

"Y/N, please, wake up!"

I gasped, sitting up straight. I looked around to see the fire Zac started last night still burning. I jumped when I felt someone grab my face. Zac was looking at me, the fire showing me the worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, still holding my face.

"I think so," I stuttered. "It was just. . . Sometimes I have. . . I'm fine."

I sucked in a breath when Zac scooted closer to me and wrapped me in his arms. He grabbed the one blanket we had and wrapped it around us. I closed my eyes as he rubbed my back.

"It's alright," he whispered. "It was just a dream. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I was stuck in my seat and I couldn't. . . I was alone and. . . No one. . ."

He tightened his arms around me, slowly starting to run his fingers through my hair when he heard me take a shaky breath.

"We're going to be okay," he whispered. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise."

"But Zac," I stuttered.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. Just try and get some sleep."

I nodded and slowly pulled out of his arms. I laid down with my back to Zac. A chill got sent down my spine from the coldness of the sand. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm up. I gasped when I felt Zac drape the blanket over me.

"What about you?" I asked, sitting up.

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. My heart sank when I notice him lay down, instantly wrapping his arms around himself.

"What if. . ." I hesitated. "I mean. . . I know this might be awkward but. . . We'd both be warmer if we. . . You know what they say about body heat and. . ."

"Y/N?" Zac chuckled, slightly teasing me as he sat up. "Are you suggesting we sleep side-by-side to keep each other warm?"

"Maybe," I said under my breath as I messed with the blanket. I looked up when he chuckled. I chewed on my bottom lip as he sat next to me.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" He asked.

"I don't mind," I stuttered.

I held my breath as he laid down, pulling me into his chest. My cheeks burned as he fixed the blanket so it covered both of us and wrapped his arm around my waist. We laid there, the tension thick between us.

"Do you want to use my arm as a pillow?" Zac asked softly.

"Sure," I said under my breath. "As long as you don't get uncomfortable."

"I'll be fine," he chuckled. My face burned as he snaked his arm under me.

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. As hard as I tried, I couldn't calm down. If it weren't for Zac's arms wrapped around me, I'd probably be tossing and turning.

"Can't sleep either?" Zac sighed.

"No," I said, cursing under my breath when my eyes started to water. "I just keep thinking. . . What if they don't find us? They might not even know we went down."

"They know," he sighed, tightening his arm around my waist.

"But. . ."

"They're going to find us, Y/N," he reassured. "And until they do, I promise to keep you safe."

Part 2

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader #plane crash

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

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Looking Through A Window (2)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Oh man. My dudes. I received so much love and support and excited feedback on the first chapter that I thought my heart was going to explode. Y’all are so wonderful. Keep it up. <3

*****

Luckily, Matty lets them take the Phoenix jet to Houston. Flying commercial would make today even more tortuous than it already promises to be, albeit for a different reason.

No matter how hard he tries to distract himself, Mac cannot stop staring at the diamond ring on Riley’s finger. The princess cut gem is stunning and ridiculously large, but it suits her cover as a lucrative arms dealer. A white gold wedding band sits below it. Riley left her usual assortment of rings at home, and Mac can’t help but think her long, delicate fingers look bare without them.

He tears his eyes away from the rings again and again, both on the plane and while driving to the safe house. Riley drives with just her left hand, her right elbow resting on the center console. Mac likes driving, but there’s something relaxing about riding shotgun while Riley drives instead. He’s never been able to put a finger on it, but the sense of ease washes over him all the same. Admiring the way sunlight illuminates her engagement ring is simply a bonus.

He doesn’t let himself imagine what he might give her, in an alternate future where she reciprocates his feelings and one day wants to marry him.

Harley obediently lays in the backseat, staring out the windshield. She's been on her best behavior the entire twenty four hours Mac's known her, ever the professional.

Which puts her completely at odds with Mac and Riley's shenanigans—cracking jokes, dancing on the plane and in the car, doing purposefully bad impersonations of Russ. These are the best parts of going on ops alone with Riley. They can let loose in a way they just couldn’t when anyone else other than Bozer was around. Everyone else is professional all the time; Mac and Riley are only professional when they have to be.

Riley taps the steering wheel in time to the classic rock song on the radio. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Dinner? We haven’t even had lunch yet!”

“True.” Riley chuckles. “Can you tell I’m hungry?”

Mac gives her a sly look. “Not at all.”

They settle on Texas barbecue for lunch on their way to the safe house, because that’s what Jack would choose if he was here. If only the old man could see them now, all grown up and getting sent to take down terrorists unsupervised.

Seated in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, Mac raises his brisket sandwich in a toast to Jack, in whatever afterlife he found himself in. Hopefully it’s the one with an endless supply of good barbecue.

“Oh man, Jack would’ve loved this,” Riley says through a mouthful of food. She sneaks Harley a piece of brisket.

Mac smiles. “Yeah, he would’ve.”

It’s easier, now, to talk about him. At first, Mac hadn’t been sure he could ever get to a point where talking about Jack didn’t make him want to hit something or just curl up and sob.

But here he is, on the other side. Him and Riley both.

Their safe house is another twenty minutes away from the restaurant, in a nice neighborhood full of trees and children playing on the sidewalks. It’s so much greener than a California neighborhood could ever dream of being. There’s even a park across the street from their apartment complex. It’s exactly the sort of place a young, affluent couple would want to live.

Riley parks in their designated space, and the pair ascend the stairs to apartment number 202. Outside of the car, they don’t dare use each other’s real names until they’re sure the apartment is free of bugs. The place was furnished earlier that week by other Phoenix agents, but Mac and Riley do a thorough sweep of every room just in case.

It’s a nice apartment. Wood flooring, granite countertops, matching cabinets throughout. There are pictures on the walls, but Mac doesn’t bother to stop and check what they are.

Riley clears the space from back to front, so Mac does the opposite. He clears the kitchen first, frowning at the absence of any sort of food, before moving on to the living room.

Mac stops dead in his tracks when he enters the bedroom. The singular bedroom. With a singular, queen-sized bed.

Oh no. This is not happening.

Mac shakes his head and rubs his eyes, hoping his mind is just playing tricks on him and that there’s actually two beds. Or a whole other room he missed before.

The one and only bed seems to mock him.

He walks back out, finding Riley already sitting at the kitchen table, turning on her laptop. “Uhh, Riles? There’s only—”

“One bed,” she finishes, not bothering to look up. “I know.”

Oh god. He can’t do this. He can’t. Not with his dignity still intact. Mac stammers, “I’ll, uhh, sleep on the couch. You can have it.”

That gets Riley’s attention. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to be here for weeks. You’ll hurt your back sleeping on the couch that long. Just sleep with me.” Riley’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just said. “In the bed,” she quickly adds.

Mac ducks his head to hide his blush.

“What are you working on?” he asks in a feeble attempt to distract himself from their sleeping situation. Because it will definitely be a situation if Mac’s not careful.

“Connecting to the Wi-Fi,” Riley says in a slow, “What else would I be doing?” sort of way.

“Right.” Mac silently curses himself. Of course that’s what she’s doing. “Anyway, I’m assuming you already know this, since you probably opened the fridge too, but we have no food.”

“I saw.” She’s multitasking again, manicured fingers flying faster across her keyboard than Mac can keep track of. “Why don’t you unload our bags while I finish this, and then we can go.”

Unable to help feeling like he’s been dismissed, Mac complies without protest.

Soon they’re back in the car, headed to the grocery store, and the whole thing feels ridiculously domestic. Mac’s never been a fan of grocery shopping, but Riley makes it almost...fun. For starters, she’s not methodical about it the way Bozer and Desi are. But more than that, getting to spend time with her doing mundane, non-work stuff is a nice reminder that their relationship is more than just the job. They’re friends too.

Mac wishes there is a way to tell her all that without it sounding weird.

They come home, unload the groceries, and take Harley for a long walk, and that feels easy too. It feels normal, even though literally nothing about this situation is normal, and Mac already knows he’ll miss this when the op is over.

But normalcy ends when Riley beckons Mac to sit beside her at the kitchen table, and together they write an advertisement for their arms dealing business. Once they’re satisfied with it, Riley sends it off into the dark web, and there’s nothing to do but wait, like a spider after spinning her web.

The waiting is the worst part.

Mac is contemplating taking Harley for a second walk when Riley asks, “Want to help me make dinner?” He takes one look at her hands on her hips and the “you don’t actually have a choice” look on her face and knows he’ll be left to fend for himself if he doesn’t help now. Mac learned that the hard way back when he and Riley lived together.

“Sure.”

They work in comfortable silence. Mac chops vegetables and grates cheese for their quesadillas while Riley does the actual cooking part. Even though they are doing separate tasks, Mac is acutely aware of every move Riley makes, no matter how insignificant. Flexing her long, thin fingers around a knife. Itching the back of her calf with her foot. Dancing in place, spatula in hand, while she waits to flip the quesadillas sizzling in the pan.

Mac smiles softly. Her random little dances are cute. He’s noticed them more and more since realizing he has feelings for her, but if Mac is being honest, he’s always thought the dances are cute.

Riley hisses as she peeks under the tortilla, checking to see if it’s browned yet.

“You good?” Mac asks, frowning.

“Yeah, I touched the pan by accident.” Riley runs her thumb under cold water.

Her laptop dings while they eat. Wide-eyed, Mac glances at Riley. That was fast. She grimaces before sliding the laptop closer and checking the notification.

“Is it them?” he asks tentatively. That’s the hard part about this; in order for their business to look more legit, they had to just put an ad out and hope for a response, rather than target the terrorist organization directly.

Riley exhales. “No, it’s not them. It’s someone else.”

Swallowing another bite of quesadilla, Mac says, “I don’t know whether I’m relieved or if that’s worse.”

“Same.”

There are no more responses that night.

*****

Mac wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in—on his side, facing outward, with as much space between him and Riley as possible. When they crawled into bed the night before, Riley did the same.

Harley spent the night on the couch.

She’s a very guarded dog, Mac is slowly realizing. Tolerating, but not trusting. Mac supposes he would be like that too if he was a dog and he got stuck with a bunch of strangers after his human suddenly disappeared one day.

He makes coffee, feeds Harley breakfast, and takes a shower, all before Riley loses her battle with the snooze button and finally gets out of bed. While she showers, Mac takes Harley for a walk in hopes that the cool, spring air will ease the anxiety that took root the moment Riley released their ad into the void.

It doesn’t.

Dark, puffy clouds loom on the horizon, and the few birds Mac hears shriek at each other in warning. It looks like a storm is coming.

When Mac returns, he’s met with a grim expression, one he understands without Riley uttering a single word. “They answered,” she confirms.

“What did they say?” Unclipping Harley’s leash, Mac moves to stand behind Riley, resting his hands on the back of her chair. The scent of her shampoo tickles his nose, and he forces himself to ignore it and focus on what Riley’s saying.

“They want to meet. Today.”

“Time or place?”

Riley points at a small box on her screen. “Just an address.”

“What’s there?”

“A warehouse,” Riley says. “Owned by the same shell corporation other Phoenix techs already tied to the organization.”

“Not very clandestine, are they?”

“No, they’re not.” Riley looks up at him, her head bumping his sternum, and butterflies ricochet inside Mac’s rib cage. There’s something soft in Riley’s expression that makes Mac want to kiss her. “Are you ready for this?”

Mac sighs. “As ready as I ever am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her confidence falters. Without thinking, Mac squeezes her shoulders in reassurance before walking away to change.

*****

The warehouse is located on the edge of the city, in an industrial area that has certainly seen better days. Even from a distance, Mac can see cobwebs decorating the warehouse windows and rust creeping up the roller doors. Aside from Riley, there’s not another soul in sight.

As per the directions the organization sent after Riley confirmed the meeting, Mac parks on the south side of the building, near the only functional-looking door. He doesn’t look at Riley as they get out of the car, instead desperately trying not to cringe at the cold, heavy weight of the gun holstered at his side, hidden beneath his jacket.

High-end arms dealers couldn’t walk around unarmed, unfortunately.

Although her hands are occupied with holding Harley’s leash, there’s a gun hidden beneath Riley’s suit jacket as well. Mac’s stomach churns. The second Riley emerged from their bedroom earlier wearing that jet black suit, she was a different person. She was wholly Genevieve Turner, and no matter how hard Mac tried, he couldn’t find even a single trace of his best friend beneath the icy exterior.

Locking their SUV, Mac smooths the lapels of his own black suit and slips into character as well.

The dark clouds Mac noticed earlier are directly overhead now. Mac has never believed in omens the way Jack did, but he can’t help hearing Jack’s voice in his head, warning him that black clouds are a sign of certain doom. Or something like that.

There’s no one inside the warehouse, at least as far as Mac can see. “Hello?” he calls, the word echoing slightly in the open space. Aside from a few random wooden crates, the room is empty.

A door slams, and then an older man comes into view. He’s probably in his late fifties, with graying hair and a beer belly his shirt doesn’t quite cover. The man swaggers like he owns the place, although Mac doubts the leader of a terrorist cell would deign to play tour guide.

No doubt there’s a quip on the edge of Riley’s tongue about entitled white men, but she doesn’t share it.

The man extends a hand to Mac in introduction. “Conrad.” His sneer doesn’t reach his eyes.

Mac frowns, keeping his hands at his sides. “Last name?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

What he’s about to say might screw everything up before it even starts, but Mac says it anyway. In his gut, he knows it’s the right call. “If it doesn’t matter, then we’re done here. My wife and I have no interest in entering a business relationship with someone too inexperienced to understand that trust is integral to any transaction.” Mac spins on his heel and strides toward the door, Riley falling into step beside him.

“Wait!” the man calls. They pause, turning around slowly. “Deacon. Conrad Deacon.” The man seems to know he’s already lost. Good. “Welcome to the cause.” He gestures for Mac and Riley to follow him.

Mac stands his ground. In his peripheral, Riley stands utterly still, the perfect mask of cool, collected neutrality. Almost bored, even. It’s scary how easily she becomes her cover.

“Come on now,” Conrad says, taking a single step forward. “We have much to discuss.”

That’s enough of the power play, Mac thinks, but just as he’s about to give in and follow Conrad, Riley utters a single, sharp command that rings through the room. “Sit.”

Harley obeys.

Riley’s lips curve in a cruel, taunting smile. “Then enlighten us.” Mac suppresses a shiver; he’s seen this side of Riley plenty of times before, watched her hone it over the years, but it’s still unnerving. Admittedly, it’s also kind of hot.

Conrad ignores her entirely. He croons, “Why don’t we start with your names?” It’s phrased like a question. It sounds like a question, but Mac sees the demand for what it really is.

Mac gestures to Riley. “This is my wife, Genevieve Turner. And my name is James.” His father’s name tastes like ash on Mac’s tongue.

“And the dog?”

“Killer,” Riley sneers. Mac isn’t sure if she’s kidding or not.

Again, Conrad doesn’t acknowledge her. “James, why don’t I give you the tour and explain what we do here.”

“We’ll go on the tour, but we are not here to join your cause.” It takes every ounce of Mac’s willpower to maintain his neutral tone. “All we care about is what you’d like us to provide and how much you’ll pay for it.”

Conrad doesn’t hide his displeasure. “Fine. Follow me.”

Mac and Riley are led through the open warehouse. The layout is straightforward and nearly impossible to get lost in. But after Conrad shows them a room full of rifles—countless hung on the walls, floor to ceiling, the rest in half-open crates—Mac finds himself counting the number of wooden shipping crates scattered around the building.

He doesn’t like his final number.

Arming terrorists doesn’t sit well with Mac, even if it serves a purpose. It makes him sick, knowing he will likely be indirectly responsible for their next attack.

Especially because those crates are no doubt full of the kind of rifles designed to kill people most effectively. The ones hanging on the wall are military grade, probably cutting-edge. Desi would know exactly what they are and how they work.

Trusting Riley is paying close attention, Mac only half listens to Conrad babble about the cause. But then the older man says something that stops Mac in his tracks. “Our country is being run into the ground by whiny do-nothings,” Conrad asserts, “who waste our money and spew garbage that some people matter more than others. Well, you know what? Hardworking, everyday Americans matter. But no,” he scoffs, “those damn liberals don’t like it when we remind them of the truth. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off.”

The ground sways under Mac’s feet. He knows these people believe this, read it in Matty’s extensive briefing notes. But it’s another thing entirely to hear someone say it to his face.

He can only imagine what Riley must be thinking.

Clearing his throat, Mac tries to redirect the conversation. “Like I said, we don’t care about your cause. Just tell us what you’re looking for, and we’ll be on our way.”

Conrad eyes him suspiciously, but complies. “We’re looking for something a little more than what you can get at the store, you know?”

Mac doesn’t, not exactly. He’ll have to ask Desi later. “I do,” he lies.

“Good. Here’s what we’re willing to pay for it.” He hands Mac a folded piece of paper, and Mac does a double take when he reads the number. There are a lot of zeroes. “And as a show of good faith, we’d like it delivered tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Riley splutters. Mac feels it then, the broiling rage slipping through a crack in her persona. He needs to get her out of there. Now. Not just to preserve the op, but for Riley’s wellbeing. Some audacity Matty has making Riley play nice with men like this.

Mac slides his hands into his pockets, using the movement as a cover to brush his knuckles against Riley’s fist. I know. I’m here. I’m sorry.

For the first time, Conrad addresses Riley directly. “Yes. Tomorrow. Unless that’s something you can’t do?”

“We can do that,” she replies calmly, and the difference between her reactions is like night and day. As quickly as that crack appeared, it was gone.

“Excellent.” Conrad takes another step toward Riley, offering to shake hands, but Harley’s low, menacing growl keeps him at bay. Rewarding the dog with a quick scratch on the head, Riley closes the gap and shakes Conrad’s still-outstretched hand.

“It’s a deal,” she says. Following suit, Mac shakes Conrad’s hand as well and follows Riley out the door, neither of them uttering another word.

Mac drives. One look at Riley’s trembling fist decides for him.

By the time the warehouse disappears from the rearview mirror, he can’t take the silence anymore. “Hey,” Mac starts, but Riley cuts him off with a hand.

“Not until we’re inside.”

They hit every single red light between the warehouse and the apartment, and Mac anxiously taps the steering wheel. Raindrops land on the windshield. They’re small at first, but soon the drops are large and numerous enough to refract the streetlights, and Mac struggles to see where he’s going. He adjusts the windshield wipers over and over, never landing on the right speed.

Too slow. Too fast. Too slow. Too fast.

Mac settles on a setting that’s slightly too fast, and the squeak of rubber on glass nearly matches his heart thudding in his chest.

Riley stares straight ahead, unmoving, unblinking. Mac wants to reach out, to let a gentle touch say what he verbally can’t, but the road is slick enough to make him keep two hands on the wheel. We’re almost there, he reassures himself.

By the time he parks, it’s pouring hard enough that the ten second walk from the car to the door soaks them to the bone. Riley’s hands shake as she unlocks the apartment door.

Once they’re inside and Mac unclips Harley’s leash, Riley turns to him with pained, pleading eyes. His heart breaking all over again, Mac draws her in for a long, tight hug. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.

Mac just cradles the back of her head and sways gently, wishing he could fix the world for her.

Neither pulls away, even when Riley suddenly says, “If Conrad was smart, he would’ve had someone bug our car while he paraded us around the warehouse. I don’t think he’s actually smart enough to do that, but we should check first, just in case.”

Mac curses himself for not thinking of that. “Good call.” He rubs Riley’s back, hoping the gesture is soothing. “I hate the way he treated you,” he snarls. “Like you weren’t even worth acknowledging.”

“Welcome to being a woman.”

It was more than that. They both know it. But neither say it.

*****

“You need what?” Matty shrieks over the phone.

Mac winces. “Sorry.” He’d called Desi first, to ask what kind of guns Conrad meant with his innuendo, and received a verbal lashing for not asking any follow-up questions. But she made her best guess anyway. Now on the phone with Matty, it doesn’t take even a single brain cell to know that her reaction will be much, much worse.

“He wants us to prove ourselves,” Riley adds. “As a show of good faith.” The words come out dripping in venom, but their boss doesn’t comment. Mac takes a second to study her; Riley changed into leggings and an oversized flannel shirt, and there are still remnants of dark makeup smudges under her eyes. Now, she’s sitting on the kitchen counter with her knees tucked into her chest. It’s weird to see her take up so little space.

Matty sighs, deeply and loudly in a way conveys her annoyance more than words ever could. “Fine. A few weeks ago, Border Control confiscated a huge shipment of smuggled guns near El Paso, so I’ll see if we can borrow those. But next time, Blondie, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He doesn’t correct Matty in that it was Riley who made the deal. That would only add fuel to the fire.

“Thank you,” he says, and Matty hangs up. Mac runs a hand through his damp hair. “That went well.” Riley’s lips twitch, but it’s not the amused reaction he hopes for. He’s at a complete loss regarding what to say to her, so Mac gently asks, “What can I do?”

Riley slides off the counter, and Mac reaches for her automatically, although he doesn’t actually touch her; his hand hovers just beside Riley’s elbow. She doesn’t shrink away, but she makes no move to touch him either.

“Help me put him and everyone like him in a deep, dark hole where they can’t hurt anybody. And then just…” she trails off, taking a deep breath. “Keep being you.”

With that, she walks away, leaving Mac alone in the kitchen, racking his brain to figure out what that last part means.

*****

Later that night, Mac tosses and turns, replaying Conrad’s words. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off. They seem off-kilter, like what the man said and what he really meant are misaligned. Mac sighs, rubbing his face.

Another bolt of lightning illuminates the bedroom, and Mac automatically counts the seconds until he hears thunder rumbling in the distance. The storm is moving closer.

Beside him, Riley lies on her back with her eyes closed, although her breathing is too light for her to be asleep. Mac wonders if her mind is just as loud and chaotic as his.

For Riley’s sake, he hopes it’s not.

*****

Sleep never finds Mac.

The storm rages all through the night, but by the time dawn arrives, the thunder and wind dissipate, leaving just the steady downpour. The clouds are dark enough that Mac can hardly tell the sun even bothered to rise this morning.

When Riley’s alarm goes off, it’s like the shrill tone is mocking Mac for being awake. Riley groans as she shuts it off.

“Morning,” he mumbles. His throat hurts. He needs water. “Did you sleep well?”

Another groan. “No.”

“At least you slept,” Mac mutters.

Riley rolls onto her side, drawing one of the extra pillows into her chest. “Do you always toss and turn that much?”

It was his fault, he realizes, that she didn’t sleep. Mac suddenly feels guilty. “Sorry. And no.”

He expects Riley to be upset at being kept awake, but she isn’t. With a look that just might be understanding, she softly asks, “What were you thinking about?”

Mac can’t say that his thoughts whip around his mind like raindrops in last night’s storm. Not without sounding crazy, at least. So instead he says, “I don’t even know. I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Riley admits. “It feels off.” Her eyes are heavy, and Mac’s had enough early mornings with Riley to know it’s not just the lack of sleep weighing her down.

“Go back to sleep. I can handle the delivery.”

Riley rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you do that by yourself.”

He doesn’t argue. “Okay.”

A moment passes between them. It’s been happening more and more lately—holding eye contact a little too long, sharing smirks when no one else is looking, stealing moments where it’s just the two of them and nothing else matters. Each one gives him hope that there’s not a wall between them, but instead, a door. Someone just has to be brave enough to open it.

Sitting up, Riley quipps, “Just don’t make me regret letting you sleep in the bed with me.” Mac snorts.

“No promises.”

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#beth writes #macriley #macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #angus macgyver #riley davis #looking through a window au

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Nine: Friday

a/n: happy friday lovies!! I am soooo excited for y’all to read this one bc it was my favvv chapter to write and I still get emo over it :’) also I think I should maybe let you all know that we only have two more chapters left in this series, and I can not thank you enough for all of the love and support you have shown it. It has been such a blast hearing your thoughts and sharing Halani with all of you lovely people, and I can’t believe the fun is almost over :( BUT we still have some time before we have to think about that soooo without further ado here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor

Word Count: 9.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight

Monday

Harry takes a deep breath and raises his arms above his head, feeling every vertebrae stretch as he lies flat against the surfboard. The beaming sunlight warms him down to the bone and it threatens to lull him to sleep, but his attention is too occupied with the various sounds coming from each direction. Out of his right ear, he hears the waves lapping against the shore and the faint sound of children’s laughter. From his left, Mitch and Tom engage in a serious conversation about sharks. He lets one foot slide off the edge of the board and wade into the water below, all the while resisting the paranoia that he will be the next victim of Jaws thanks to his friends’ discussion.

“I’m gonna go switch out the camera.” Paul says beside him, already swimming back to the shore.

Harry gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement and lets the back of his hand rest against his forehead. He floats for a moment longer before swinging his other leg into the water and sitting up. His feet gently tread below the surface and he studies the area for any fish sightings, but his shoulders slump in disappointment when he doesn’t find any.

“I just think,” Mitch defends, legs crossed on his own surfboard. “That I would survive way longer than you,”

“It’s not a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse, survival rate depends on how severe the attack is,” Tom shoots back.

“Not if you’re smart,”

“Right, good thinking, mate. Just yell the Pythagorean theorem and swim away while the bloody thing tries to solve it,”

“You just don’t get it.”

“Stop bein’ a coward, then, and put your feet in the water.”

Harry shakes his head in amusement and continues scanning the scene for something else to occupy his attention. His eyes momentarily land on a couple in the distance, the pair facing each other on their shared surfboard and laughing. He smiles softly and glances back to the shore where his group has set up camp for the afternoon. Squinting, he tries to determine the time of day using the sun’s position overhead, but quickly gives up and swims back to the beach. The sand clings to his wet toes as he jogs over to his bag and digs inside for his phone. The time reads 2:37–Alani’s shift will be over soon.

She stifles another yawn and punches in her customer’s order, re-typing it when she realizes that it’s littered with errors. Her mind had been in a permanent fog since she woke up at 6:45 this morning. Harry had already slipped out by the time she reached over for him, but he left a note on his pillow this time.

GOOD MORNING SWEETS!

SORRY I HAD TO JET SO EARLY :( I’LL SEE YOU AFTER WORK.

H ☼

P.S. ALREADY MISSING YOUR LITTLE SNORES ♡

As if on cue, Alani’s phone vibrates in her back pocket and she slips it out to read the new text.

Harry: Meet me at Honoli’i after your shift?

She really wants to, but she’s also in desperate need of sleep.

Alani: Gonna take a power nap first, but I’ll be there

Harry: Can’t wait xx

********

In the distance, Harry hears The Cure blasting from a car in the parking lot. He hums along and picks at his bowl of fruit, saving the kiwis for Alani who once said they were her favorite. Jeff and Paul laugh about something between the two of them before the director catches Harry’s attention.

“How long you planning on staying here?” he asks.

Harry checks his phone again and the time reads 4:35. He wasn’t entirely sure how long Alani’s nap was supposed to last, but just as he’s about to answer, a text comes through.

Alani: Heading over. See you soon, sunshine💗

He smiles softly and shuts his phone off. “I actually have a surfing lesson at five. But I’ll meet you guys at the house after.”

Paul, the two Jeffs, Mitch, and Tom bid Harry farewell and decide to take a drive along the coast before heading to dinner. They mention the name of the restaurant they plan to go to, but Harry knows he’ll probably skip it and take Alani somewhere else. He sits back on his elbows, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze, when suddenly his vision goes dark when he feels hands over his eyes.

“Guess who,”

“The Queen of England?”

“Yes and I’m here to colonize your land and steal your jewels,” Alani jokes in a posh British accent. She leans over his head so they partake in an upside down kiss before settling into the sand beside him.

“You’ve already had my family jewels,” he teases with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are so insufferable sometimes, I swear to God,”

Harry lies back and rests his head in her lap with a shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. The damp locks along his hairline are curled and Alani twirls the pieces between her fingers.

“Saved y’some kiwis,” he informs her, nodding in the direction of his tote bag.

“Aw thanks, baby,”

“How was your day?”

Alani removes the lid and pops a slice of kiwi into her mouth. “Long, boring, tiring. A lot better now,”

“Feel the same way,”

“How’s your project going?” she questions, curious about his recent, mysterious whereabouts.

He shrugs. “S’fine, yeah,”

“What exactly is it, again?”

“It’s a,” Harry starts slowly. “Video thing… kind of,”

Alani narrows her eyes and lifts another piece of fruit to her lips. “Meaning?”

“It’s like—following uh.. the album ‘n stuff,”

“Ah the elusive album,” Alani nods. “Will I ever get to hear any of it?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“Dunno,” he blinks. “When’re you gonna let me read that article of yours?”

She smirks and taps her fork against her lower lip. “When it’s ready,”

“Then I’m withholding my thing ‘til it’s ready too,”

“That’s not fair,” she objects. “My article is contingent on your music,”

“One song,” Harry bargains, holding up his index finger. “In exchange for one paragraph. Seems fair to me,”

“Deal,”

He sits up suddenly and opens his mouth as an unspoken request for a kiwi. Alani tosses it in his direction and to her surprise, he catches it effortlessly.

“You really are a freak of nature,” she marvels. “What can’t you do?”

“Stay away from you, apparently,”

“Ditto,”

“D’you wanna head to the water for a bit?” Harry asks, his eyes landing on the board cast to the side.

Alani nods. “Sure thing,”

She strips down to the pink two piece underneath her clothes and accepts his outstretched hand. They shuffle through the sand, joint hands swinging, but Harry stops and scans her face when they reach the edge.

“What?” Alani asks, already dipping her toes in the water.

He runs his thumb over hers and starts hesitantly. “I know the water is kind of…”

“Oh,” she finishes when he trails off. “Yeah. I mean, for the most part I’m okay with it. Last time was just—I wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’m really sorry for that.” Harry apologizes with a somber look in his eye.

Alani reaches her free hand out to his cheek and offers a comforting smile. “No, it’s okay. I actually used to be pretty good at surfing,”

“Oh?”

“Haven’t really done it in years, though. I’m probably really rusty now,”

“Well maybe it’s time to get back on the horse,” Harry urges, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm before leading them further into the waves. Alani gets up on the board first and it's clear that she’s a natural despite the lack of practice. Her muscles fall into a mesmerizing rhythm as they repeat the very motions she had done thousands of times before her accident. Harry’s eyes carefully study the precision of her determined arms slicing through the water and the way her feet gracefully meet the board once she’s found a strong enough wave. She glides back to the beach and revels in the familiar feeling of the ocean breeze against her skin. Harry whistles from the distance as she reaches the shore, turning back to him with a wide grin and two thumbs up.

“Your turn,” she calls, paddling towards him on her stomach.

Harry replaces her on the board and winces. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,”

“You’re gonna do great,” Alani insists. “Tighten your core muscles. Oh! And bend your knees, not your back. Just trust your instincts and follow through,”

He follows her advice and to his surprise, does well, though not nearly as graceful as she had. Despite this, Alani cheers from the side as he glides back to the beach. Harry takes a bow once his feet have safely met the sand below.

“I knew you could do it,” she beams when he swims back to her.

“Couldn’t have done it without my amazing coach,” he shoots back, leaning down to press a salty kiss to her lips.

With Harry’s help, she swings her leg over the board and sits so that they face each other. Their legs paddle gently below the surface and his hand finds the top of her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“You were incredible out there,” he muses. “Can’t even tell that you’re out of practice,”

She wrings her hair out and fastens it into a low bun at the base of her neck. “Guess it’s like riding a bike—the muscle memory and all that,”

“You’re a great coach, you know. Cause I usually just wipe out,”

“That’s normal,” Alani nods. “You have to get used to falling. And wait for the right wave,”

Harry admires the way the afternoon sun sets her aglow, skin shimmering and golden under the rays. “How d’you know when it’s the right one?”

“You just feel it I guess. It’s like a gut instinct that you have to follow. And no second guessing yourself, either, cause that’s when you mess up,”

“What if you do go for it and you still wipe out?” He questions, something besides surfing in the back of his mind.

Alani sighs. “Then you wipe out,”

“You just have to trust?”

“You just have to trust,”

Harry hums as he considers this. Three burning syllables bounce around in his skull, but he suppresses them for the time being. Carefully, he lifts himself to his feet and motions for Alani to do the same. It takes them a second to find their balance on the board, but eventually they do and Harry brings her closer with a protective hand on the middle of her back.

“D’you trust me?” he murmurs.

Alani studies the different shades of green in his irises and feels a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, so she decides to take her own advice and presses a soft kiss to his warm lips before responding.

“Yes.”

Carefully, Harry takes a step back and twirls Alani before pulling her flush to his chest and swaying to the music stuck in his brain. As best they can, the pair dances on the surface of the board but Harry’s foot gets caught in a slick spot and he tumbles backwards, bringing Alani with him. When they emerge, his heart races in worry, but the knot in his chest eases when he hears her laughter.

“Y’okay?” he checks.

“Yeah,” she assures him, her legs snaking around his torso under the water. “I’m alright.”

The sky turns pink as they continue to wade peacefully in the water, and the entire time Harry finds himself fixated on the weight of the three little words nagging at the back of his brain.

********

Tuesday

“Say it again,”

“No,”

“Please?”

Harry shoots Alani an unamused look through the corner of his eye. “Dunno what’s so funny about it,”

“Just say it one more time,” she pleads with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Tuesday,”

“Chews day,” Alani mimics and Harry rolls his eyes.

“You’re so clever,” he huffs. “Really, a true comedian,”

She giggles and leans over in her seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute!”

“Yeah, whatever,”

“Okay, just one more—”

“Alani,” Harry chuckles, more endeared than irritated. “Don’t make me turn this car around,”

She pouts playfully and returns to watching the trees and passing cars. “At least I’m not asking you where we’re going,”

“You are so stubborn,” he shakes his head. “I told you we’re almost there,”

“I just don’t understand what it is with you and keeping secrets,”

“It’s about the mystery, darlin’, it’s romantic! Just trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Alani nibbles at the skin on her lower lip and folds her arms. “No,”

“Okay, then,” Harry says finally. “Now change the song. I let you have fun with one Taylor, but it’s getting old,”

“Hater,” she grumbles, shuffling through the rest of her playlists before settling on Madonna.

Harry’s finger taps along to the beat against her thigh and his lips turn up when he hears Alani singing along. Her eyes are focused on the road ahead of them as she pretends to be in a music video of her own, creating hand gestures and choreography to accompany the lyrics. The chorus builds and she belts out the words as if her life depends on it.

“I’m crazy for you!” She performs, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her hands. “Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true. I never wanted anyone like this, it’s all brand new. You’ll feel it in my kiss,”

Alani presses a slobbery smooch to the side of his face and he groans, laughing when she continues melodramatically. The song goes on for another minute and Alani sings passionately out of tune, but it makes Harry’s heart swell. He briefly considers joining her, but decides to let her have her moment, too amused by the way she’s caught up in the emotion. When it’s finally over, she slumps down in her seat with a dazed look in her eye.

“Gotta love the 80s,”

“Maybe I should let you join the band,” Harry suggests.

“Really?

“No,”

Alani gasps in mock offense, her eyes wide. “Hey!”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses offhandedly. “I’m a sweetie,”

“A sweet pain in my arse,”

“Arse? Did you really just say arse?”

“I take it back, you’re just a regular pain.”

The two of them drive for another forty-five minutes taking playful jabs at each other and watching the lush greenery whizz by. Harry had been characteristically cryptic in his instructions the night before, an idea suddenly popping into his mind when Alani reminded him of her day off. He had told her to wear something comfortable and practical, nothing that could flow easily in the wind. Furthermore, he revealed that he would pick her up at exactly 7:00 a.m. which made her eyebrows shoot up.

“Seven?”

“It’ll be worth it, promise,”

“Can we at least get McDonald’s hash browns for the road?” Alani had bargained.

Harry chuckled to himself, too excited to deny her. “Sure thing, sweets.”

Welcome to Waikōloa Beach, the sign read and Alani wondered what could possibly have possessed Harry to drag her out of bed and across the island at the crack of dawn. Her question was quickly answered when they turned onto Keana Place where a lot full of helicopters were lined up and waiting.

“‘Big Island Tours’,” she reads aloud. “Wait a minute, we’re not—”

“Surprise!” Harry beams, reaching behind her seat for a bag.

Alani scoffs, her mind still trying to process. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Come on,” he pleads. “Been dying to do it since I got here,”

“So bring Mitch! Or Jeff, or Tom or literally anyone else,”

Harry gives her a pout and bats his lashes. “But I’d rather be with you. Please?”

“Harry,” she sighs, taking another glance at the helicopters before her. They did seem secure enough, enclosed on all sides, and he had driven an hour and a half just to surprise her with something fun and totally outside of her comfort zone.

“Trust me?” he asks after a minute, kissing her knuckles gently.

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

They exit the SUV and Harry takes her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. There’s a short, stocky man with dark sunglasses standing in front of one of the helicopters with a clipboard. He checks his watch when he sees the two of them approaching and reaches out a hand.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Harry,”

“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Matt,” the pilot says with a firm handshake. “Is this your guest?”

“Alani,” she greets. “Is this…”

“It’s very safe,” Matt assures her with a warm smile.

Harry squeezes her hand gently and looks over their mode of transportation. “How long’ve you been doin’ this?”

“Almost ten years,” the pilot explains. “I was a commercial pilot for twenty-five and then started this when I retired,”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of nervous fliers, then,” Alani speaks up, attempting humor to mask her jitters.

Matt nods with a knowing smile. “Oh yeah. Plenty of anxious girlfriends who kick their boyfriends for dragging them into it, but they always enjoy themselves in the end,”

Alani’s cheeks warm at his assumption of their relationship status, but neither her nor Harry address it. Instead, Harry clears his throat and asks his next question.

“So when can we go up?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Matt offers.

Once the three of them have settled into the aircraft, he hands Harry and Alani each a headset and goes over the basic safety rules. Her heart races and stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath and wills herself to give it a chance. Beside her, Harry is enthusiastically chatting up Matt and being his usual charming self; his confidence is reassuring and she finds herself sinking deeper into his side for comfort. He drapes an arm over her shoulders protectively, sensing her nerves, and presses a firm kiss to her temple. After a few minutes of discussion with the air base over the radio, Matt gives them a thumbs up and signals that they’re ready to go. Another deep breath and they’re off, the ground growing smaller and smaller below. They skim over Waikōloa Village and head west to Waiulua Bay where the water is so clear and blue, Harry has a hard time believing it’s real. Alani peers down at the tiny people all along the coast and in the water and her throat goes dry. She feels Harry nudge her shoulder lightly and looks over to where his finger is pointed.

“Down there you can swim with dolphins,” he says. “Looked it up last night,”

“And we’re not doing that because...?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin and laughs softly to himself. “How are you not enjoying this?”

“I am,” Alani insists, which is steadily becoming true. She watches in amazement as they hover over the expanse of the lush, green landscape along the coast.

Over the headset, Matt points out some key landmarks and answers more of Harry’s questions. They pass over an active volcano and Alani momentarily feels a rush of terror, but her curiosity takes over as she snaps a photo of the molten lava below. She captures another one of Harry looking out his window before flipping the camera to selfie mode and making a peace sign. He turns to tell her something, but flashes a cheesy grin and presses a kiss to her cheek when he notices the camera. Alani writes a mental note to make it her lock screen later.

After half an hour in the air, Matt points to the cliff on their right hand side and says they’ll be landing there for a bit as part of the tour. A 200 foot waterfall feeds into a small pool and he lands them on a ledge across the way. The three of them exit the helicopter, but Matt says that he needs to check in with the base and lets them explore the site alone for a few minutes.

“This is incredible,” Alani marvels, looking over the edge.

“Knew you’d like it,”

She turns to him and snakes her arms around his shoulders, leaving a small peck to his lips. “Thank you,”

While she had been almost one-hundred percent sure that she would never enjoy a helicopter ride, Alani is glad that she was wrong. She is even more grateful that Harry had encouraged, but hadn’t pushed, her to try it. If Alani had been absolutely against the idea, she knows that he wouldn’t have pressed it any further and would have taken her to do something more her speed, hence the dolphin back up plan. It sometimes felt like they were from entirely different worlds, Harry being more sure of himself and adventurous while Alani was careful and preferred to have things planned. But he made her feel brave and spontaneous without pressuring her to change anything about herself. Harry had seen something special in her and wanted the whole world to see it, too. So he encouraged her to break out of her comfort zone and let her true self shine, but only at her own discretion. Over the course of the past few weeks, Alani had noticed herself opening up to new experiences and loving every minute of it, but this transformative feeling was far from one sided; because of their relationship, Harry learned the value of trusting his own instincts. For so much of his life, he felt like a member of an overcrowded democracy allowing himself to go with the majority rule even if it didn’t particularly please him. From their earliest moments spent together, Harry was inspired by Alani’s determination and self-confidence. He had always cared deeply about other people’s opinion of him and felt that it was his greatest weakness, but she seemed so unapologetically herself at all times. And though Harry sometimes worried that he was simply playing a part for the rest of the world, he never had to question who he was with Alani. She understood him, she grounded him, and amidst all of the unfamiliarity in his new life, she felt familiar and safe.

“You deserve it,” Harry says gently. “To see beautiful things.”

Alani presses their foreheads together and studies his emerald eyes like they’re the rarest gems she’s ever seen. “Well I’m looking at the best damn view right now,”

“Although, I wish you would’ve told me we were going to Jurassic Park, I would’ve prepared my Laura Dern outfit.”

Harry laughs softly and slots his lips between hers, those three, pesky little words nagging at him again. Not yet, he thinks, but almost there.

********

Wednesday

Alani takes an extended lunch and heads over to the recording studio with food for Harry and his friends. He had warned her beforehand that there would be filming, so they agreed to pretend, just for the afternoon, that she was his assistant. However, their true relationship was as much of a mystery to the both of them as it was to everyone else. Alani had considered, on many occasions, asking him to officially be her boyfriend. She didn’t know how else to refer to him when her mom had started inquiring about the Range Rover mysteriously parked across the street every morning. Each time Alani had gotten up the nerve to ask, however, she secretly worried that it was too soon, or worse, that he would say no. Much to her oblivion Harry had also wrestled with this question, and many others, but also feared her response. What they shared was undeniably strong and completely foreign, so they had independently decided not to put too much weight on the situation in fear of bursting the bubble too soon. Neither of them were prepared to deal with the fallout if it all came crumbling down.

“Lunch is here!” Jeff calls from the doorway as he escorts Alani inside.

He motions her over to the table in one corner of the room and helps her lay out the food, thanking her warmly when she declines payment.

“It’s on the house,” she reassures him.

The crew all take turns grabbing their lunch, Mitch ruffling Alani’s hair in a display of gratitude while he swipes his burger, and settle into various chairs and comfortable spots around the studio. Harry is the last one to claim his food and he lingers around the table as he does so.

“Thank you, Ms. Hale,” he offers politely, itching to give her an appreciative kiss.

She nods and returns the professionalism. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles,”

“How’s the weather?”

By now, Alani has come to recognize this as his go-to inquiry when he’s really asking for her attention or affection.

“Full of sunshine,”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiles softly. The casual slip of his nickname isn’t lost on him.

“Hey Harry,” the director calls. “Show Jason that Bob Dylan thing you were doing—watch, you’ll love this.”

Harry musters up a pleasant smile and quickly glances at Alani, wanting nothing more than to escape with her for the precious few moments she has left to spare.

“Occupational hazard.” she shrugs as her cue of permission. His fond look turns apologetic before he saunters over to the rest of the group.

Alani watches, amused, as he lifts a guitar and starts strumming a tune that she hadn’t heard before with a Dylan-esque lilt in his voice. The crew all laugh and encourage his impression, but she still wonders what the song is and reminds herself to ask later. After a few moments with the rest of the group, Harry’s eyes wander to Alani munching on a french fry and scrolling on her phone. Jeff notices this too and decides to help his friend out.

“Hey Alani,” he calls. “Come sit with us,”

She looks over to Harry and he grins eagerly, making room on the couch between him and Mitch.

“Alani makes the best smoothies in the world.” Jeff comments to the film crew.

“It’s true,” Mitch adds. “Harry loves ‘em.”

A subtle glare radiates from the singer, but Mitch simply winks in response.

“Well, you guys are my favorite customers,” Alani offers. “But don’t tell the others,”

The whole team makes Alani feel welcome and she’s endlessly thankful for it, making an effort to engage every crew member in some sort of small talk as evidence of her gratitude. Harry enjoys her presence among his friends and how easily she fits in. It serves as further proof of what his gut already knew: she was a missing puzzle piece in the image of his ideal life slowly coming together before his eyes. Alani checks the time an hour later and starts bidding farewell to the group, much to their disappointment. As she slips out the door and over to the Bronco, a familiar accented voice calls from behind. Before she has time to respond, a pair of warm lips meet hers and she hums.

“They’re all goin’ out for dinner at 5,” Harry explains gently. “Come back to the studio then, I have somethin’ I wanna show you.”

********

It’s 5:10 when Alani makes her way back to Napua. Harry had texted her beforehand to say that the door would be open, so she lets herself in and scans the quiet room. She hears the soft keys of a piano, but the room is dim and she has to get closer to see that it’s Harry seated there. Candles are perched around the room and Alani watches her step, reaching a hand to Harry’s shoulder when she reaches him. He stops playing and flashes a soft smile, inviting her to join him on the bench.

“Digging the ambience,” Alani remarks lightly, not entirely reading his mood.

He shrugs. “Just felt right,”

Harry’s fingers return to the keys and he starts with a somber chord that makes Alani’s breath hitch. His vocals are raw and gritty, but stronger than she had ever heard him sing and it nearly moves her to tears. She hangs on every word and burns them into her mind for safe keeping, though she doubts that she could ever forget this moment even if she tried. Harry picks up into the chorus and leaves nothing behind, diving straight into the wave without fear of wiping out. Alani tries, but she can’t contain the tears that spill over her cheek. It’s as if every ounce of apprehension and anxiety, every doubt and moment of insecurity is cleansed from her soul right in this very moment. When the song comes to an end, she immediately wishes to relive it and tries to find the right words in response.

“That was incredible,” Alani clears her throat. “What’s it called?”

“Sign of the Times,” he responds. “Not really sure about it,”

She furrows her brows in confusion, but quickly realizes that he’s being honest and not fishing for compliments.

“Why?”

“It’s… different,”

“Than?”

He thinks for a moment and chooses his next words carefully. “Anything I‘ve ever done before,”

“And why’s that bad?” Alani questions with a comforting hand weaving its way into his hair.

“Dunno,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t wanna get it wrong,”

At this moment, “it” isn’t just the song. Everything about his new solo career, and his life in general, is a toss up, and one that he isn’t sure will land in his favor. Alani has no doubts, though, not when it comes to her faith in Harry’s abilities.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

He looks over to her and thinks that he couldn’t possibly be more content. “Yeah,”

“Then you’re already succeeding. If you’re happy with what you’re doing, then no one can tell you that you’re not successful,”

Harry feels his own wave of emotions pooling at the bottom of his lash line and he’s grateful that the low lighting conceals it. He closes the gap between their lips, palm secure against the side of Alani’s face as he keeps her close.

“There’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says gently and Alani feels her heartbeat pick up.

“Okay,”

He isn’t sure how to approach the subject, despite the fact that it’s been the only thing on his mind for days, so he decides to trust his gut and speak from the heart.

“These past few weeks with you,” he starts slowly. “Have been the best of my entire life. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters, and nothing bad could ever happen to me because there’s you,”

Another tear rolls down Alani’s face and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“All I asked for was a chance,” he continues. “And it feels like you’ve given me the entire world. Do you remember the day when we saw that rainbow?”

“Yes,” Alani nods, voice small.

“You told me to wish for something, and I did. I wished for a home. I didn’t know why, but that word wouldn’t leave me alone after you said it. But I think I understand it now, because I’m in a place I’ve never been before, physically and in my life generally, but you make it feel like home. You bring me home,”

Alani feels as if all of the air inside her lungs has been sucked out, and her grip on Harry’s wrist tightens because she worries that if he lets go, she’ll float away like a helium balloon.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Harry continues, voice wavering. “But this thing we have feels like it could set the world on fire, and I’d gladly walk in the flames for you. So would you please say you’ll be mine and let me prove it?”

“Yes,” Alani breathes, tears of relief and joy still streaming down her face. “But I need a moment to compose an appropriate girlfriend acceptance speech,”

Harry grins and presses their lips together as if she’s the only source of air.

“Seriously,” Alani chuckles when they pull apart. “Cause how the fuck could I top that?”

“Y’don’t need to. Saying yes was all I needed,”

She unclasps her fingers from his, draping her arms around his shoulders instead, and takes a deep breath. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re the sun and the whole universe revolves around you.”

“And you’re the most heavenly moon,” Harry responds thinking back to the meaning of her name. “Mahealani.”

********

Thursday

When Alani’s father had asked for her help setting up a wedding that was taking place at the resort this weekend, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t often that she got to be involved in the events at Honu, but she adored the luxurious five star hotel and all of its amenities. She had helped her dad cater numerous events over the years and weddings were her absolute favorite, especially because of the beautiful gowns and all of the blissfully happy couples. It felt like a privilege to glimpse into the most special moments in the lives of strangers she would probably never see again. Alani had been tasked with meeting the bride and collecting any last minute meal cards or notes of dietary restrictions from guests. The wedding was to take place the following night, but all the food prep would begin that afternoon in order to adequately prepare.

“I think that’s all. There were just a few last minute adjustments,” the bride, Mila, says pulling out an envelope from her bag.

“No offense,” Alani starts. “But shouldn’t you be resting? I mean isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do all this? Or a wedding planner?”

Mila sighs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I know, I’m just a bit of a control freak. I like things done a certain way,”

“Totally understandable,”

“Like the music thing,” Mila rolls her eyes. “It was my fiancé’s idea. He said that DJs were boring and wanted to let the guests choose their own songs, instead. So that was my compromise. I’m trying,”

Alani offers a chuckle and shuffles the last of the cards into her stack. “Sounds like you’re already mastering this whole marriage thing,”

“Are you married?” the bride asks, curiously.

“Oh, no I’m not,”

“Got a boyfriend?”

Alani’s cheeks warm and her lips curl. “Yes,”

“Knew it,” Mila comments with a knowing smirk. “You’re too pretty to be single. And you’ve got the look,”

“What look?” Alani questions.

Mila flutters her lashes and sighs. “The ‘I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it’ look. Like a Disney princess,”

Alani laughs shyly and focuses her attention back to the envelopes in front of her.

“What’s his name?” the bride pries.

“Harry,”

“That’s a good one,” Mila considers tapping her lower lip. “Like the Prince of England. Maybe you will be a princess, after all,”

Alani is amused by the irony of her statement, but she chooses not to disclose the fact that her boyfriend actually is British, albeit, not a Royal. Instead, she chooses to deflect the attention back onto the bride.

“And what’s your lucky guy’s name?”

“Chad,”

“Like the country,”

“Yeah,” Mila giggles. “Like the country,”

“And what’s he like?”

Mila rests her chin in her hand and a dreamy look settles into her hazel eyes. “Funny. He wanted to be a comedian, but he became a lawyer, instead. That’s how we met— law school,”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Ironic enough,” Mila chuckles. “Family and divorce law. I never thought I’d get married, I mean I literally hear about people falling out of love every day. But the thing about love is that it’s effort, and a lot of people aren’t willing to put in the work. It doesn’t feel like work when it’s the right person, though. Just feels like ‘how can I be the best possible partner to this human that I love so much?’”

Alani considers this, her mind immediately wandering to Harry and all of his thoughtful gestures. “Makes sense,”

“Chad is a patent lawyer,” Mila continues. “He’s the more creative, outgoing one, I guess. He makes things light when it gets too heavy, you know? It’s good to have someone like that,”

“Yeah, definitely,”

“What’s your guy like? What does he do?” Mila asks with a flirty grin.

“He’s, uh,” Alani thinks for a second trying to be as vague as possible. “A musician,”

Mila gives an approving nod. “Dreamy. Bet he writes lots of songs about you,”

“Maybe,”

“Don’t be shy,” Mila urges. “Come on, it’s just us girls. Spill,”

Alani thinks for a moment and imagines that the same dream cloud must be present over her own features.

“Well he’s kind, thoughtful, romantic, and wise. Really funny, too. I don’t know he just—he makes me wanna be a better person, really,”

“Wow,” the bride marvels. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,”

“He is,”

Mila leans in conspiratorially and Alani does the same. “Speaking as an expert, I think it’s gonna last forever,”

“You think?” Alani asks.

“Oh yeah,” Mila assures her. “When you’re so used to studying fake love, you get really good at recognizing the real deal,”

Alani offers her an appreciative smile and nods. “Thank you,”

Mila’s eyes light up suddenly and she grabs Alani by both hands. “Hey you should bring him! Yeah, you two should come, I insist,”

“Oh, I—”

“Please, say you will! Maybe he can throw in some good music recommendations to offset the terrible ones,”

Alani chuckles and she knows immediately that Harry would leap at the chance to do so. “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mila cheers, reaching into her planner and jotting a note down. “Harry and Alani at the lovebird’s table.”

********

“Hey, sweets,” Harry beams, pulling up to the front of the hotel in the Cadillac. “Waiting on your boyfriend or are you just in the habit of standing on sidewalks lookin’ cute?”

“The former,” Alani responds coyly. “He’ll be here any minute,”

“And he’s got a pretty girl like you waiting outside like this? You should dump him,”

She shrugs and turns on her heel for a stroll while Harry gently eases off the breaks to follow. “I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of him,”

“S’that so?” he continues with a smirk.

“Yup,” she sighs. “He’s kind of a dork, but I like that about him,”

“Heyyy—”

“And he’s a good kisser. The best at cuddling, too,”

“Sounds like a catch,”

“He is. You two should meet sometime,”

The car comes to a halt and Alani slips inside, scooting all the way down the bench seat next to Harry.

“Funny, you should be a comedian,” he quips.

Alani’s brow furrows and she shoots him a doe-eyed look. “What’s the joke?”

Harry laughs dryly, ignoring the pang of irrational jealousy that strikes him in the chest. “You’re a little too good at this bit, it’s starting to feel like we're not talkin’ about me anymore,”

“Oh, were we supposed to be talking about you?”

His head whips over to Alani who clutches her stomach with laughter. “I’m kidding, baby, of course I’m talking about you,”

“No, who is he?” Harry demands playfully with a deep furrow between his brows. “Tell me, I’ll hurt him,”

Alani slots their lips together and his pout eases into a grin.

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow night?” she asks, feeling the ocean breeze through her hair.

Harry flashes a dimple in her direction. “Anything you want, s’long as we’re together,”

“Will you be my plus one?”

“To?”

“A wedding,” Alani explains. “The one my dad’s catering at Honu,”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “Are we crashing it?”

“No,” she laughs. “We were invited. I was hanging out with the bride today and she added us to the list,”

“‘Kay, but I’m still gonna pretend we crashed it,”

Alani drapes her arms around his shoulders and leans her head against his. “Where are we going?”

“Damn, I thought I had you distracted,”

“Boyfriend rule #1: You have to tell me where we’re going always,”

Harry narrows his eyes. “That’s not a real rule because surprises are romantic,”

“Too bad,” Alani shrugs.

“But don’t you enjoy my surprises?”

“Usually,”

“Then I’m adding a new rule,” Harry bargains. “The girlfriend can not ask the boyfriend to disclose the location of a date if they’re already in the car,”

“That’s not fair, I was already in the car when the rule was made!”

“Too bad.”

Alani pinches his cheek and slinks back into her own seat. She tells him about the bride and the groom, what she knows, at least, and about the decision to have their guests RSVP with a song of their choice to play at the reception.

“D’you know what you’re gonna pick?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Alani nods. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody by Whitney Houston, obviously,”

“Obviously,” he agrees.

“You?”

“Dunno, yet. Have to narrow it down,”

Alani admires the heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Well you better make it good, cause Mila knows that you’re a musician and she’s expecting you to balance out her friends’ shitty music taste,”

“You were talkin’ about me?” he teases.

“Well, yeah, how else do you think you got invited?”

“You have such a crush on me, s’cute,”

Alani playfully pokes his cheek. “We’re literally dating, dummy,”

“Don’t get defensive,” Harry jokes. “Cause I’ve got a crush on you too.”

“God, we’re so annoying.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her temple. They pull into the Port of Hilo and he magically produces a picnic basket from the backseat, a bottle of Moët et Chandon rosé peeking out. Alani slips her fingers between his and follows as he leads them to a sizable speed boat anchored and waiting for them.

“The Carolina,” Alani reads, admiring the golden cursive on the side.

“Like someone else I know,” Harry winks.

He escorts her onto the vessel and she waits to see when the captain will join them, but confusion washes over her when she sees Harry poking around with the equipment.

“What are you doing?”

“As much fun as it would be to eat at the dock,” he begins. “I think it would be more fun to take ole Carolina for a spin,”

“You mean you’re gonna drive this thing?” Alani questions, though she doesn’t know why she’s surprised by him anymore.

“Pilot,” Harry corrects. “But yes,”

Alani blinks and tries to wrap her head around the idea of Harry piloting a boat. “And you’re allowed to do that?”

“Sure.”

“Wow,” she marvels to herself with an incredulous laugh. “I’m dating a sailor.”

Harry flashes Alani a wink over his shoulder and before she knows it, they’re heading away from the dock. She carefully stands from the lounging area at the back and sneaks over to Harry, arms wrapping around his torso with her chin propped on his shoulder. He steers with one hand and extends the other, recreating the iconic Titanic boat scene.

“I’m flying, Jack!” he calls over his shoulder and Alani giggles, responding with her best improvised rendition of My Heart Will Go On.

They sail out for a bit longer before Harry stops the boat and turns to her. “Ta da!”

“By jove, he’s done it!” Alani praises.

Harry takes a bow and reaches over for the picnic basket, pulling out the rosé and two champagne flutes. He hands them to Alani and spreads their meal on the lounging area at the back: vegetable stir fry and noodles with chocolate covered strawberries for desert.

“You did all this?” Alani muses.

He takes each flute from her hand and fills them halfway. “It’s a special occasion,”

“I feel like an asshole for not knowing what it is,”

“Don’t,” Harry chuckles, handing her the wine. “I mean it’s not really like—I just realized it,”

“What is it?”

Harry raises his glass and clears his throat. “Exactly three months ago, I got off a plane and I stumbled into a little café where the most beautiful and funny and smart waitress served me about twenty glasses of water until I nearly pissed my pants in front of her,”

Alani giggles at the memory, disbelief settling in when she considers how fast the time had flown.

“And despite all of the embarrassing and idiotic things I’ve done since,” he continues. “She agreed to be my girlfriend, for reasons I have yet to understand. So today I celebrate her, and us, and all of lucky stars that brought our paths together,”

They clink their glasses together and Alani presses a cool kiss to his lips. “Cheers, baby,”

“There’s one more thing,” Harry says, holding a finger up.

Alani scoffs. “It’s like fucking Pandora’s box in there!”

He pulls out a velvet box and her heart stops.

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he explains quickly. “Sorry, maybe should’ve thought this through better,”

Harry opens the lid and lifts a gold chain with a crescent moon pendant and a smaller sun in the center.

“Saw it in a shop this morning,” he says softly. “Seemed like fate, so I got it,”

“Harry,” Alani breathes, eyes already glossy.

“D’you like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” she says, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

He fastens the necklace for her and she admires it with gentle fingers. The sun and the moon, a piece of them cast in gold and resting against her beating heart forever.

********

Friday

“Wow,” Harry gawks, his eyes raking in Alani’s appearance. A baby pink tulle dress falls just above her knee with puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, all cinched at the waist with a small bow. Tiny velvet hearts are speckled all over the dress, in true Alani fashion, and a pair of sparkling, pink heels accentuate her toned calves.

“Wow yourself,” she counters, drinking in the peek of exposed skin behind his cream colored blazer. The blue dress shirt underneath is unbuttoned just above the butterfly on his stomach and a cross is nestled in the valley between his pecs. He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers between his ringed fingers and Alani accepts them gratefully, moving to the side so he can step into the house.

“These are gorgeous, thank you,” she says, lifting them to her nose.

“Welcome,” he smiles softly, swiping the pad of his thumb against her chin. “You are gorgeous,”

Alani presses her rose tinted lips to his carefully and pulls back to admire him again. “And you are so good looking it actually makes me mad.”

Harry laughs and pulls her closer for another sweet kiss before he hears the clearing of another person’s throat.

“Have her back by midnight,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry salutes before bending down to address Freddie.

Alani passes the sunflowers to her sister with a kiss to her cheek before hooking an arm under Harry’s and heading out. They hop into the convertible and the sun catches the golden pendant around her neck, bringing a soft smile to his face.

“Hope those are your dancin’ shoes,” Harry remarks. “Cause we’re goin’ full Dirty Dancing tonight,”

“Lift and all?”

“Lift and all,”

She runs her fingers over the silver rose on his ring finger. “You know, I think we’re finally gonna nail it this time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

When they arrive at Honu, the other guests are shuffling from the parking lot and onto the private beach where the reception will take place. Alani plucks a card from her bag to drop into the box at the entrance while Harry pulls a medium sized box from behind his seat.

“You got a real gift?” Alani questions, a light laugh erupting. “We don’t even know these people,”

Harry tucks the gift under his arm and shrugs. “I put your name on it too, don’t worry,”

“Well now they’ll have a giftcard to Ikea and whatever’s in your mystery box.”

“It’s also a giftcard to Ikea, but wrapped in a big box.”

Alani nudges his shoulder playfully and scans the groups mingling and flocking to the mini bar. She waves to a member of her dad’s kitchen staff attending to the hors d’oeuvres before they are greeted by the manager of the guest list.

“Alani and Harry,” she says to the tall woman behind the podium.

“Ah yes,” the woman responds. “The Lovebirds table, number 9.”

“Guess Mila wasn’t joking about that.” Alani chuckles lightly, taking both of their name cards.

Harry locates their table and to his surprise, no one else is present yet, but he pulls Alani’s chair out for her and pushes it back in once she’s seated.

“Champagne?” he asks, nodding to the bar.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît."

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and makes his way to collect their drinks. Alani’s eyes follow the stringed lights overhead and she quickly realizes that they lead to a disco ball hanging above the center of the dance floor. Well done, Mila. She thinks to herself with an approving nod. The colors, she gathers, are lilac and periwinkle, incorporated into all of the floral arrangements and cloth details. They match the color of the sky above and Alani knows that the bride must be ecstatic over this detail. Harry returns with their drinks and sets them down gently onto the white tablecloth.

“None of our fellow lovebirds have arrived yet, huh?” he muses, taking a sip of his champagne.

Alani shakes her head and brings the glass to her lips. “Must be too busy making out in the parking lot,”

“You told me we didn’t have time for that.”

“I’m not gonna ruin my lipstick before we’ve even arrived.”

Harry shakes his fist to the sky and Alani giggles. They both admire the view and the children in the wedding party who are testing how close they can get to the water before an adult drags them away. The sky turns to a shade of cotton candy above them and someone announces that the bride and groom are arriving. Harry and Alani stand and welcome the newly weds with applause and whistles. Mila and Chad share a sweet kiss and the crowd goes wild. One man, most likely a friend of the groom, shouts “I love you Chad!” and laughter erupts. They take their seats and the rest of the wedding party follows suit, which means that the rest of the guests are free to return to their chatting and socializing.

“I’m beginning to think we were put in the time out table.” Harry jokes when they are still not joined by any other guests.

A light laugh escapes Alani’s lips and she looks around. “Yeah I guess so.”

The servers arrive with their meal and the pair eat happily, exchanging witty banter and observations of the scene around them. Harry sucks a piece of linguine between his lips and turns to Alani with a mischievous smirk.

“No,” Alani says, already knowing what he’s up to.

“Don’t leave me hangin’,”

“Eat your food.”

“Alaniii,”

She shakes her head gently and rolls her eyes, but decides to indulge him anyway. Their lips meet in the middle of the shared noodle and Harry smiles.

“Always wanted to try that.”

A few moments later, he notices a card in the middle of the table and lifts it.

“‘Trivia,’” he reads. “‘Test your knowledge of the bride and groom and win a prize.’ Let’s play, shall we?”

“What’s the first question?” Alani asks, peering over to read the small font.

“‘What year did Mila and Chad meet?”

Alani hums, thinking back to her previous conversation with the bride. “They met in law school, that’s all I know,”

“2009,” Harry guesses. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Definitely Chad,” she replies firmly. “Mila didn’t think she’d ever get married,”

“I thought you said you didn’t know these people,”

“I guess I was wrong,”

Harry squints at the next one. “What are their zodiac signs?”

“I wanna say Virgo for Mila,” Alani suggests. “Maybe… Aquarius for Chad?”

“That’s my sign,” Harry comments, writing down her guesses.

Alani’s brows raise. “No kidding. Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s yours?”

“Taurus,”

“I don’t know anythin’ about astrology. Are we compatible?”

“Probably not,” Alani teases.

Harry shoots her a disapproving look and reads the next question. “Where did they go on their first date?”

“The movies,” she predicts. “Safe bet,”

“‘Akaka Falls,” Harry writes. “That was ours,”

Alani’s head tilts. “We weren’t even dating then,”

“Yeah but I was tryin’ to win you over, so it counts,”

“Sneaky.”

“Who is the bride’s celebrity crush?” Harry continues. “Hopefully not James Marsden or this guy’s fucked.”

Alani laughs and she pulls him in for a playful kiss to his cheek. The pink sunset dims into a deep navy and the stringed lights twinkle above, setting the whole scene in a romantic, golden glow. Guests walk past their table holding strips of photo booth pictures and Harry’s neck cranes to search for the source. His eyes land on a small line at the other end of the beach and he stands quickly.

“Let’s go,”

“Where?”

“Photo booth!”

To Alani’s surprise it’s an actual booth, curtains and all, and not just some poor sucker tasked with operating a polaroid camera the whole night. They stand in line eagerly behind two groomsmen and brainstorm poses. Once they’re inside, Alani settles onto Harry’s knee and watches as he operates the machine. The screen counts down from ten and they decide to flash a proper smile for the first one. After it’s snapped, Harry sticks his tongue out and Alani widens her eyes in mock surprise. The third one is a candid, slightly blurry one of them laughing after she accidentally poked him in the eye. A lipstick kiss is stamped to Harry’s cheek in the fourth one, but the pair innocently look away in opposite directions. The fifth and final image captures their affection mid kiss. They swipe the two sets of photos and Alani awes, admiring the black and white film strip. Before they make it back to their table, Alani feels a hand on her arm.

“Alani!” Mila beams.

“Hi!” Alani greets, pulling the bride into a hug. “You look gorgeous,”

“I’m so glad you came! I love your dress,”

Mila turns her attention towards Harry and gives him a warm embrace, too. “You must be Harry! So nice to meet you,”

“Thank you for having us!” he says over the music.

“I see you guys put the photo booth to good use,” Mila comments. “Now go dance! There’s an ipad next to the stage, just queue up your songs.”

Alani and Harry bid the bride farewell, but before they leave, Mila leans into Alani’s ear and whispers “he’s a hottie!” with a wink. They set their photos down inside Alani’s purse and Harry leads her towards the dance floor. She punches in her request and he secretly types the song that’s been stuck in his head all week. Fantasy by Mariah Carey is already playing when they reach the floor, so they join in excitedly. Alani’s hips sway and Harry’s head bobs, both of them mouthing the lyrics. The song fades and Alani’s pick begins, which makes the crowd roar.

“The people have spoken and they love Whitney!” she cheers.

Harry twirls her and shuffles his feet. Alani shimmies and sings along, the lyrics falling from her lips like a prayer.

I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

The dance floor is flooded with bodies jumping and swaying, and the disco ball shimmers above the euphoric scene. Alani and Harry spin, making their way through the crowd and letting the music sweep over them like a magical spell. Beads of sweat form at the back of her neck and she lifts her wavy locks to let the ocean breeze cool her down, but her feet don’t stop moving. Eventually, her song peters out and a familiar guitar fills its place.

“I love this song!” Alani cries, immediately recognizing The Cure.

Harry pulls her closer, despite the warmth radiating from both of their bodies, and presses a passionate kiss to her lips. They are surrounded on every side, but in this very moment under the full moon and shimmering disco ball, Harry and Alani feel like the only two people alive. Their foreheads meet and they sway gently, his hands secure at her waist while her fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #ybmh #ALSO i would just like it to be known that I wrote this before *those* photos so harry get your own romantic gestures >:(#kidding bae <3

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catgirlthecrazy · 3 years

Text

Holding the Moon

Empty practice grounds were like empty taverns to Kaladin. He was so used to seeing the place full of light and activity, that finding it without either of those things was downright unnerving. Usually, he couldn't go two steps without hearing the sound of weapons clashing or people grunting as they sparred. There were always a few ardents around, training warriors or maintaining the equipment. There were always spheres in every lantern bracket. A poorly lit training ground was an invitation to injury.

Tonight, there was only one person here. Only one sphere for light. It was rare for Kaladin to find Adolin here without his shardplate, but tonight he only wore simple sparring clothes. He had a sandbag set up in the middle of the room. He was punching the absolute crap out of it. No grace or finesse to his movements. Just one wild swing after another, like an overeager man breaking rocks.

The drafts of Dalinar's autobiography had come on Urithiru like the Everstorm. No stormwall, no abrupt onslaught of fury like you got with highstorms. Instead it came on slowly. From the Kholin scribes who copied it out, to their families, to the officers and workers of the tower, the contents of that text spread like fevers in the Weeping. In under a week, highprinces and water carriers alike knew that Dalinar Kholin had burned a city to the stone, and in the process, killed his own wife. Adolin's mother.

As soon as he heard, Kaladin made sure to check in on the younger Kholins. How could he not? One was his friend, the other still technically a subordinate. Both of them had already known- Dalinar had the decency to warn them before the news went public. It was hard to tell how Renarin was taking it. Kaladin had always had difficulty reading that kid. But Teft was keeping him occupied with training, and Rock was better at being a sympathetic ear than Kal had ever been. So Kaladin tried not to hover.

As for Adolin… You're the tenth person to ask me that, bridge boy. Leave me in peace. And Kaladin had. It seemed the respectful thing to do. Once Shallan got back from whatever infiltration kept her currently out of contact, his friend would have all the support he needed. It wasn't until Syl summoned him to the practice grounds in the middle of the night that Kaladin reconsidered that assessment.

"He told me he was fine," Syl whispered, "but I think he's lying. He sounded like you when you tell people you're fine."

Kaladin grunted. "Of course he isn't fine Syl. But if he needs to work his feelings out with training, we should probably let him." Almighty knew Kaladin had been there. Exhausting the body till you had no room to think about your grief had its merits. But damnation it hurt to see it happening to Adolin. Adolin, who sometimes seemed like nothing could dim the sun behind his smile. Adolin, whose eyes now stared ahead like empty pits.

"Yes, but he shouldn't have to be alone," Syl said. She took the form of a skyeel and wound around Adolin protectively.

The sandbag dented inwards as Adolin let off one last punch. With the slow acceleration of a falling tree, the sandbag toppled over. Adolin bent double with a groan, exhaustionspren puffing around him like jets of dust. Immediately, Kaladin was there with a ladle of water. Adolin accepted it, as he did the next ladle Kaladin brought. Then he tried to wave Kaladin off. "I appreciate the thought," he said, "But I don't need you to mind me."

"Maybe I just wanted to get in some late night spear practice." Adolin gave him a flat stare. Kaladin gave in. "Ok, fine, I wasn't. Syl was worried about you, and she brought me."

"Syl?" Adolin looked surprised at that.

"She explores the tower at night."

"Huh. Well, tell her I'm glad she cares." Apparently Syl was still invisible to him. "But I'm good here." He turned to reset the sandbag. It was at that point the prince's hands caught the dim spherelight, and Kaladin realized Adolin's knuckles were bleeding.

Kaladin's surgeon's instincts woke like sleeping axehounds who smelled the rain. He grabbed Adolin's hands and dragged them under the light. "Storms, Adolin, how long have you been at this?!"

Adolin tried to pull his hands out of Kaladin's grip, but Kaladin hung on. The scrapes were hardly the worst injury Kaladin had ever seen. In fact, as training accidents went, it was downright minor. But for his hands to get this bad from punching a sandbag? Adolin would have had to have ignored significant pain for a very long time. Check that he hasn't sprained something. Kaladin felt at Adolin's wrist. "Does it hurt when I press here?"

"No." Adolin pulled harder and finally yanked himself out of Kaladin's grip. "Honestly Kal, it's not that bad. Renarin can heal me later."

"Renarin can-?" Kaladin sputtered. This storming man. "That doesn't make it ok for you to hurt yourself, Adolin."

Adolin looked away. "I need this, Kal. If I don't exhaust myself, I… I obsess over all of it."

Kaladin softened at that. Storms, but he knew exactly what Adolin was talking about. How many times had he done this exact thing after Tien died? Worked himself so hard until his mind had no strength left to think about how much he hurt? He could remember at least one time when Sergeant Hav had needed to order him not to keep training through injuries. "Well. At least let me treat this before you do anything else."

Adolin raised an eyebrow. "Seems kind of pointless. I can just have Renarin heal it instantly."

"Your brother isn't here. Unless you plan to wake him up over this, you'll let me treat this the normal way."

A shadow of a smile flickered across Adolin's face, like the sun shining through thick clouds. He gave a tired mock salute. "Yes, sir!" Kaladin rolled his eyes.

Fortunately, the practice grounds kept basic medical supplies on hand in case of training injuries. After washing off the blood with water, Kaladin was able to daub Adolin's knuckles with lister's oil and wrap them in bandages. Adolin made a small grunt as he did. "Too tight?" Kaladin asked.

Adolin shook his head. "No, no. It's just- I'm so used to seeing you flying about like a paragon of soldierhood. I forget you know how to do things like this."

Kaladin didn't know what to say to that. He tied off the last bandage. "You'll probably want to change these out tomorrow."

"Or I can take it to my brother with the divinely-granted healing abilities and have him fix it completely."

"Or that."

Adolin glanced at the fallen sandbag. "You think you could help me set that up again?"

Kaladin gaped. "You want to keep going?!"

"I'm not too tired to think yet. So yes, I want to keep going."

"Your hand!"

"Protected now by these nice bandages you provided."

Kaladin crossed his arms. "No. Absolutely not."

Adolin's face darkened. "Fine." He leaned down to pick up the sandbag.

Kaladin grabbed his shoulder. "If you don't put that down right now, I'm summoning Syl to cut it in half."

Adolin turned on him. "I appreciate your concern, Kal," he said, voice tight, "But it's time for you to butt out."

Kaladin was completely unmoved. "If you keep going, you will hurt yourself."

"I told you. I need this." His words were angry, but it wasn't an angerspren he drew. It was an agonyspren, like an upside down face on the floor. The raw pain in his eyes was hard to look at. It was like looking at an open wound, still bleeding and vulnerable.

"You don't have to stop working out," Kaladin said finally. "But you do need to do something else. Something not so hard on your hands."

"Like what?"

He thought about it. "Spar with me."

"What?"

"Spar with me. Quarterstaffs, or hand to hand. You'll have a harder time breaking your hands on me, at least." And it would give Kaladin more control over the situation.

Adolin glanced at the battered punching bag, then shook his head forcefully. "No. Fighting an actual person… That's a bad idea for me right now."

"I've got Stormlight. You don't need to worry about me."

Adolin barked out a horrified laugh. "What?! No! Weren't you just telling me that being able to heal yourself doesn't make it ok?!" Kaladin pursed his lips, annoyed at himself. Adolin had him there. Perhaps Kaladin should have wondered why he had such a double standard about this, but now wasn't the time to examine that. Instead, Kaladin pulled two blunted practice swords from the equipment racks and handed one to Adolin. The prince stepped back. "I told you, I'm not going to-"

"Zahel's been teaching me sword katas," Kaladin interrupted. "One of them takes two people. You know the one?" Adolin nodded slowly. "Run through it with me." Kaladin offered the practice sword again. Adolin stared at the sword for a long moment. Hesitantly, he took it. Kaladin set the pair of them two sword-lengths apart in the middle of the practice grounds. Then, they began.

Two-person katas were more like a choreographed dance than actual combat. Kaladin lunged in for a prescribed strike. Adolin stepped back for the proper block. Adolin swept Kaladin's sword to the side in an exaggerated imitation of real combat. Kaladin would step aside and twist it into a disarming motion. The blades clicked softly with each careful exchange. The point was to practice responding to your opponent's moves until it became embedded in your muscle memory.

When you knew a kata well, they became a kind of meditation. Your body carried you through the forms, while your mind floated free. Kaladin could see that peace settle over Adolin like a warm blanket, and he knew he'd done the right thing. When they reached the end of the kata, Kaladin saw Adolin's shoulders tense, and the peace started to evaporate. So Kaladin returned them to the starting position, and started them again Adolin's eyes unfocused as his body feel into the trace of a kata he knew by heart. Kaladin started them through it a third time, and Adolin pushed to go a little bit faster. Kaladin let him. That was how it was supposed to go: you started off slow to be sure you got the forms right. Then you sped up, until you moved at combat speeds.

By the fourth time through the kata, sweat was beading on Adolin's forehead. Kaladin was making mistakes, but he didn't care. Tonight wasn't about Kaladin mastering the sword. It was about helping Adolin forget his pain for a little while.

By the fifth time through, the practice swords flashed through the air like windspren. Kaladin breathed in a little stormlight to keep from faltering. When they finished, Adolin finally stopped. He didn't bother finding a seat to rest. Instead he collapsed on the sand where they stood. The practice sword landed with a thump next to him. Adolin lay there, panting like a bellows amidst a swarm of exhaustionspren.

Kaladin fetched more water from the barrel. Adolin drank it greedily. "Thank you," he gasped.

"It's just water. It's no trouble," Kaladin said, settling down on the ground next to him.

"Not just for that. Thank you for not making me talk."

"Oh, well." Kaladin chuckled ruefully. "That wasn't hard. You're not a subtle man, princeling. If you wanted to talk, you'd talk. All I had to do was not argue."

Adolin huffed a laugh. They sat there for a long moment. Slowly, Adolin's breath calmed down to something reasonable. The little stormlight Kaladin had taken in puffed away. "Does it bother you?" Adolin asked. "Knowing what my father did?"

It was a good question. Kaladin took his time answering. "Yes, it does bother me. I followed your father because I believed he was different from other lighteyes I served. Better. Finding out he'd done that? It's… well, 'upsetting' seems an inadequate word, but I've got nothing better." He took in a deep breath. "But the Ideals teach that it's always possible to change into a better person. And Dalinar's done that. He's still doing that. So in a lot of ways, nothing's really changed for me."

Adolin ground the palms of his hands into his eyes. "In my head, I know he's not that man anymore. Hell, I can even admire him for working so hard to be better. I still love him, and I want to forgive him. But damnation. I just can't."

"Maybe you don't have to forgive him," Kaladin said softly.

"What?"

"It's easy to talk about how wonderful it is that someone's grown when they haven't hurt you personally. If you'd asked me that question about, say, Gaz? You'd have gotten a very different answer."

Adolin nodded slowly. "The thing is, I think about what Mother would say, if she saw me now. I know she'd want me to forgive him. She'd have forgiven him in a heartbeat. She forgave everyone... everything." His voice cracked, and he broke down into sobs.

Kaladin felt completely lost. Not because he was a stranger to crying people, but… well, usually Adolin was the one helping Kaladin through emotional breakdowns. Kaladin felt like he'd been handed a weapon he'd never held before and tossed into the ring with a master.

What does Adolin do to help me? Usually, he kept Kaladin distracted. Gave him a goal, or something to focus on. Anything to keep Kaladin from getting stuck in his own head. He took one look at Adolin, curled up and sobbing on the floor, and knew that wasn't what he needed. He didn't have the gaping void of emotion that sometimes took Kaladin. But if not that, then what?

Hugs. He likes hugs. Granted, he usually reserved them for Shallan and close family, but Kaladin had no other ideas. He crawled over to where Adolin lay. Slowly, as if reaching out to a feral axehound, Kaladin put his arms around the other man. Adolin hesitated only a moment. Then he collapsed into Kaladin's arms, sobbing into his shoulder. They sat there for uncountable minutes. Kaladin held the prince, stroking his hair softly. He thought of his own mother, and how she'd sometimes comforted him like this when he'd been a child, woken by nightmares. What would it have been like, to lose that as young as Adolin had?

Slowly, Adolin's grief subsided like a river after the storm. "Your mother sounds like a wonderful person," Kaladin murmured into his hair. "I'm sorry I never got to meet her."

"You've no idea. I'm sorry she didn't get to meet you or Shallan. She'd have loved you both."

"Can you tell me about her?"

And Adolin did. He told how she liked reading stories of far-off romance. About the care and delicacy she put into her glyphwards. About her love for simple pleasures. Beautiful sunsets, calm evenings by the fire, the smell of incense. Kaladin held him and let him talk well into the night.

#the stormlight archive #my fanfic #kadolin #kaladin stormblessed #adolin kholin #cosmere #brandon sanderson #my post

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professorrw · 3 years

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All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Eighteen

Warnings: fluff, eventual smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows, fighting

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! If you did, like, comment, and reblog! If you would like to be added to my taglist (permanent or for this series) tell me and I’ll put you on there!

You helped Remus hobble through the crowd to stand by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry was being held by Hagrid, who was sobbing. Voldemort was standing in front of Hagrid with Nagini draped over his shoulders.

The four of you yelled out to Harry. He didn't respond or move. Following your yells were others, shouting Harry's name and saying things about Voldemort and his followers.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort yelled. He shot out a spell and everyone around you seemed to fall silent. "It's over! Set him down at my feet Hagrid, where he belongs." He had a venomous smile that stretched across his pale face. Hagrid walked over and laid Harry down onto the grass gently.

Ron was stirring next to you, fist clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

"You see?" Voldemort said, walking back and forth next to Harry. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now? He was never anything more than a boy who relied on others to make sacrifices for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron yelled from beside you. That seemed to break the charm and everyone, including you, began to yell as well. Voldemort seemed pleased with all the cries and shouts. But of course, he wanted to talk again so he sent out a more powerful spell, immediately ceasing all voices.

"He was killed while sneaking off the castle grounds. While trying to save himself."

Everyone knew Voldemort was lying. Harry would never do such a thing. If anything, Harry was probably trying to sacrifice himself.

Neville was a short distance away from you and he was struggling. It looked like he was trying to break out of the spell. It worked, he ran at Voldemort but he wasn't quick enough. Voldemort disarmed Neville and he hit the ground with the sheer force of the spell.

"Who is this? Who has volunteered to show everyone what happens when you continue to resist my power?" Voldemort asked with a sly smile.

Bellatrix laughed from his side. "Neville Longbottom, Lord! He was the son of the Aurors. He's been causing trouble at school."

"Oh, yes. I remember you." Voldemort strolled over to stand above Neville's body. Neville was getting back to his feet slowly, obviously out of breath. "Aren't you a pureblood, boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville spat back.

"You have spirit and bravery. You come from noble blood. You will make a fine Death Eater. We need people like you."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted.

The crowd erupted in shouts and cries of "Dumbledore's Army!" Voldemort's spell was once again broken.

Remus seemed to be gaining his own footing, no longer leaning on you as heavily. "Are you alright?" you whispered. He nodded and fixed his gaze on Voldemort. Voldemort had continued speaking but you were talking to Remus. When you looked back towards Neville, Voldemort stood above him with the Sorting Hat in his hands.

"There will no longer be Sorting at Hogwarts. You will be united under one House. The House of my ancestor, Salazar Slytherin." Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville and forced the hat onto his head. The Death Eaters had their wands positioned and ready to strike at anyone in the crowd.

Voldemort flicked his wand and the Sorting Hat was set afire on Neville's head.

"Neville!" you and Hermione shouted. You and many others seemed to surge forward at the same time, seeing Neville unable to move and on fire. A giant had come around the side of the building yelling, "HAGGER!" He must not have been one of Voldemort's, for a whole group of much larger giants charged him. Arrows began to fall upon Voldemort's side as Centaurs began to run from the trees.

Everyone on Hogwarts' side was running forward. Your attention was drawn to the spot Harry once was. He was gone. Neville had also broken out of his curse and reached into the Sorting Hat, pulling from it the Gryffindor sword. Neville swept the sword through the air and it sliced through Nagini.

Hagrid began to yell Harry's name and chaos ensued. Everyone was being pushed into the castle by the group. Death Eaters and defenders of Hogwarts shot spells at one another. Bodies dropped onto the ground as the mass of people moved.

You and Remus were in the middle of the mass and a moment after you entered the hall the house-elves ran in carrying knives and screaming. You were pushed into the Great Hall near Ginny, Hermione, and Luna. You all caught sight of Bellatrix and began to shoot spells at her. She was extremely quick, avoiding and blocking spells with ease.

The four of you shot stunning spells, disarming spells, and even Avada Kedavra at her but none fazed her. You lost sight of Remus and he had separated from you. Jets of light continued to pass between you, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, and Bellatrix. She sent out curse after curse, nearly hitting you multiple times.

Mrs. Weasley ran in from behind Bellatrix screaming, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Bellatrix cackled as Mrs. Weasley pushed the four of you out of the way. You had never seen her so determined. It was absolutely terrifying to see the two duel, both trying to kill the other.

Bodies littered the ground. You had backed onto the wall next to Hermione, watching the fight between Molly and Bellatrix. Remus stumbled over to you, panting, but not appearing injured. You both cast a Shield over as many students as you could, wanting to protect them.

After doing as much as you could, you turned back to the two duels going on.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted. She was sneering while sending out curses and avoiding Mrs. Weasley's spells. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

You knew that did it for Molly. That had poked the fire even more. She screamed back, "You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!"

Bellatrix laughed maniacally. She lost focus for one second and Mrs. Weasley used that second to send the killing curse at her. She was hit right over the heart. Her smile faltered and she collapsed to the ground. You let out a shaky breath as Voldemort shrieked.

In a sudden movement, his three challengers were sent flying. He pointed his wand at Molly but not before someone shouted "Protego!"

You looked around for the source of the yell and so did everyone else. A few yards away was Harry. Harry was alive. You gasped, shocked and shaken.

Harry and Voldemort circled each other. "I don't want anyone to try to help. It has to be me. It's got to be like this," Harry spoke and everyone heard him.

"Potter doesn't mean that. He doesn't do that. Who will you use now Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nobody." You don't have Horcruxes left. It's just you and me. Only one of us can survive. One of us will walk out of this."

"Horcruxes?" Remus breathed. Something seemed to click within Remus as he nodded to himself.

"One of us? And you think it will be you? You survived by accident and because of Dumbledore."

"It was an accident when my mother died to save me then? Accident when I fought you in the graveyard? Accident that I didn't defend myself tonight and still survived? I'm still fighting," Harry stated.

"YES! ACCIDENTS!" Voldemort screamed. Nobody moved. Everyone stayed against the wall and watched the scene happening in the middle of the Great Hall. "Nothing but accident and chance that you were able to weasel away and hide behind others that were much greater than you."

"You won't be killing anyone else. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you understand? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"

"But you didn't!"

"-I meant to and I did precisely that. I did as my mother did. They're all protected from you. Did you notice none of your spells are binding? You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle."

Harry taunted Voldemort, saying he knew things that Voldemort did not. He told Voldemort about things you didn't know of. That Dumbledore had planned for Snape to kill him months ago. That Snape loved Harry's mother and had been on Dumbledore's side all along. That shocked you. Dumbledore always insisted that Snape was on his side but you didn't believe it and neither did Harry. If Snape loved Harry's mom and Voldemort killed her then of course he would turn.

Voldemort didn't seem convinced. "Dumbledore tried to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended for Snape to be the true master of the wand! But I reached the wand before you! I killed Severus Snape three hours ago and now the Elder Wand is mine! Dumbledore's plan went wrong, Potter!"

"Yeah it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, think about what you've done. Try to have some remorse, Riddle."

"What is this?" Voldemort seemed taken aback by that. It had set him off and shocked him.

"It's one last chance. It's all you've got left. I've seen what you'll be otherwise. Be a man. And try... try for some remorse."

Harry continued to explain to Voldemort. He told Voldemort that the wand wasn't his. It wasn't Snape's either. It belonged to Draco Malfoy. But that wasn't all. Harry had overpowered and taken Draco's wand while all of you were at Malfoy Manor. That meant that Harry was the master of the Elder Wand. All these new revelations shocked everyone in the room. So much information had been found in the past few months and it had all come down to this. Harry and Dumbledore had outsmarted Voldemort.

It had been hours since you arrived at Hogsmeade and the sun was coming up. Red-orange light poured into the room.

There were two yells, one saying "Avada Kedavra!"

The other shouting "Expelliarmus!"

There was a bang where the two spells collided and the Elder Wand flew from Voldemort's hand. Harry caught the wand. At the same time, Voldemort fell to the ground.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

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akirameta84 · 3 years

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Warning: This is VERY LONG. i got carried away.

"hey don't you have a wip fic for another au?" yeah shush i have a new idea that's not as fleshed out (after writing that turned out to be a lie) as the chunibyo one but i had to share it.

its in every fandom, but Saiki K Pokemon Au time. it's always cliche but who cares its amazing.

Kaido is the mc. for sure. he chooses a froakie because the professor (its kusuke, he's totally it) said it was a dark and mysterious as him. at first he's disappointed by the frog but once it evolves he starts loving it. him and greninja wear matching outfits. he tied red wrist wraps on its arms and he wears a pink scarf.

nendo is his rival lmao. he met him when kaido left with his first pokemon and challenged him to a battle, immediatly. he said loser has to buy the other persons ramen. "but i dont even know you??" "oh. well lets be friends, runt!" "you just asked to fight me???" nendo uses an eevee because his mom gave it to him when he was young. kaido wins because nendo didnt use a single attacking move. he just used sand attack and growl. the battle lasted 10 minutes because kaido kept missing.

now with his newly self proclaimed rival, after going to eat ramen, kaido sets out on his journey. i like to imagine a region with just every pokemon cause its cool that way. kaido mainly looks for fighting type pokemon, and a few dark types, and it takes him a bit to realize that this is probably a bad strategy and that he isnt finding anything, as cool as they are. he catches a shroomish, not knowing it became a type he wanted, because he was impressed with it's "battle capabilities" because it survived an attack that had fainted others. he names it doomslayer cause he's such an edgelord.

somewhere along the way nendo finds him and says that he's going to challenge a gym, and that kaido should join him. kaido agrees because "oh yeah, thats why im on this journey" and they go to the first gym.

The first gym is ghost type, run by toritsuka. why is he first? cause he's prolly not very good at battling and he knows it. the gym itself would be very foggy, and kaido has to traverse it to get to toritsuka. along the way toritsuka has spirits tell him where kaido is, and he'll release a pokemon near there for him to battle, and this happens 2 times. Torisuka himself uses 2 pokemon, a Litwick and a Galarian Yanmask. both are female, obviously. kaido absolutely demolishes these two pokemon, with his water and grass type, seeing as they're part fire and ground. first badge complete.

surpsingly, nendo also beats this gym, mainly because eevee can use bite. guess he figured out how to use attacking moves lmao. also yes ik bite is learned at 25, and rn they're at like lv 12 but shh. he found a tm or smt. it also helps thst toritsuka could barely hit nendos eevee due to the ghost and normal type thing.

nendo tries to travel with kaido, but kaido usually manages to worm his way away from him. he usually gets away whenever nendo challenges someone else and they have to tell him that he can't catch someone else's pokemon.

second gym is chiyo's gym. she uses grass types, and her gym is covered in flowers, trees, and it looks like a forest. the puzzle itself is rather simple. the floor is covered in large flowers, and you have to step on the correct ones or get sent back to the start. i like to imagine a giant vine yeeting kaido. chiyo also forgot to write clues over which ones are correct and ends up helping kaido, and winds being endeared by his determination. chiyo uses a Fomantis and a Petilil, because she thinks they're cute. kaido actually struggles quite a bit because he brings a water type and a grsss type. he wins in the end though, because chiyo ends up lovestruck and forgets to attack. she daydreams about inviting him to run the gym with her because he's so talented in her eyes, but he leaves before she can ask, grass badge in hand.

after chiyo's gym, kaido's froakie evolves into Frogadier, and he cries. in-between gyms again, kaido catches a rockruff because it was cute and it whined when he tried to walk away after battle. again, kaido catching types he likes without even knowing, provided his rockruff evolves at nightime. he names it Decimator. at this point i place kaido's levels at 19-21 ish, and close to rockruff and shroomish evolving.

next gym is hairo's and surprise surprise, it's a fire type gym. his gym his very, very intense. he has actual jets of fire lining his gym. there's no puzzle because he believes in just battling for victory or whatever, kaido didn't catch it behind the roar of the fire jets. kaido just walks along a pathway and gets challenged to battle by 3 randoms. i like to imagine one of them is nendo, and its never discussed. he has a fire type and everything, and its just not brought up. he's back to his single eevee after this too. kaido also wins with relative ease, considering he has a water type and rock type, although he makes the mistake of sending shroomish out at some point, but makes a clutch switch after it survives a flamethrower. fire badge obtained.

right after this, his shroomish evolves into breloom and he cries again. he gets very happy when his pokemon evolve. and also, after a few random encounters, his rockruff also evolves. its day form because kaido is a clueless baby. he still loves it all the same. at some point nendo challenges kaido with a single pokemon again, but this time it's a leafeon. kaido asks how he knew to evolve it, and he just says he battled next to some funny looking rock and it changed. of course. it actually manages to oko Frogadier because kaido wasnt expecting anything other than an eevee, but his breloom deals with it easily, because nendo kept using not very effective grass moves because it worked once. how does he have 3 badges again? nobody knows. level 25-27 now.

next gym is saiko's, and he uses normal types because all the other types were "too needy for someone like him." he's got 2 Persians and a Toucannon. he tried to use 3 persians but he was told that he needed something else just in case someone brought a fighting type by his dad. so he grabbed the first wild bird he found and evolved it. saiko doesnt have a puzzle, and instead just has an elevator that you can pay 5000 Pokedollars to use, otherwise you have to take the stairs like a pleb. Kaido takes the stairs because he's keeping his money dammit. its only 3 stories until saiko's floor, so it's really not much. Kaido sweeps easily with breloom until toucannon comes out. breloom gets slaughtered by a flying type move, and he sends out lycanroc to finish it. normal badge complete.

when he next sees nendo, he has a meowth with his leafeon. kaido asks where he got it, and nendo says he found it near the rich looking gym. kaido concludes that nendo accidently stole a pokemon and they go to return it. saiko says that the plebs can have it as a reward for defeating him, and dismisses them. levels 30-33.

5th gym! mera runs this one, and there isn't a type. she has an Alcremie, Appletun, Cherubi, and a Vannilish. what can i say, girl loves her food. kaido is genuinely concerned that she is gonna eat her pokemon though. the challenge is cooking. kaido has to cook curry, and if its bad, he fights a trainer, up to 3 times. if its good he gives it to mera and moves on the next curry. the actual battle goes okay, but its fairly difficult due to not having a single type, and being unpredictable. obviously he wins in the end, and the badge is a bowl of curry.

frogadier evolves into greninja finally, and they have the matching outfits going on. nendo laughs at it. somewhere nendo also got an applin. kaido is fairly sure he took this one from mera as well, but he decides to let it go, and tell nendo how he can evolve it. he doesn't think nendo understood, but he tried. kaido also realizes he only has 3 pokemon, and decides to find two more. he finds a braixen, which he evolves into delphox. her name is Lucifer's Eternal Flames. Lucy for short. he also catches a noibat. the noibat was caught because he got lost in a cave, and the noibat was leading him out, so he decided he couldn't just leave it there. he names it the Jet Bat Wings. yes im doing that and yes its hilarious. levels 37-39.

gym 6. fighting type, and its kuboyasu. he tried to leave behind his violent days behind him, and become a poison type gym, but eventually gave in and did fighting instead. after he had already dyed his hair purple for the colorscheme. he kept the fighting gym purple because he already commited dammit. 4 pokemon, and hes got Toxicroak (yes ik the irony), Lucario, Grapploct, and Pangoro. greninja faints quickly, and so does lycanroc, but after some paralysis tricks with breloom and delphox sweeping the rest, pangoro comes in and ko's delphox. noibat pulls through in the end, with flying type moves. fighting badge earned.

next battle with nendo, and it turns out he actually evolved applin, and now he's got a flapple. kaido is midly impressed. kaido catches his 6th and final pokemon, an absol. he was overjoyed when he finally got another dark type. he names it Fluffy. yes, the dark type doesnt get an edgy name. levels 44-46, there was a longer gap in between the 6th and 7th gyms. oh also, you may be wondering about an evil team in this au. and my answer is....¯\_(ツ)_/¯

gym 7. Fairy type. Teruhashi. you knew she'd be coming eventually. and yes i saved the characters people prolly wanna know about until last haha. and because i think they fit the more difficult gyms. girl's got 5 pokemon, Mimikyu (i think it fits her fake perfect girl personality), Slyveon, Gardevoir, Florges, and Magearna. how does she have a legendary? prolly cause she's perfect and just asked for it, and someone actually found one. No puzzle here, but having to find his way through the mobs of teruhashi fans is prolly hard enough. Kaido actually has to try this gym several times due to him lacking anything good againist fairies. he gets it eventually though, and teruhashi has to reassure her fans that it's okay that she lost before they murder kaido. fairy badge down.

at this point kaido has no clue how nendo keeps getting gym badges. he has 3 pokemon, and one isn't even evolved. especially considering how easily Kaido himself can beat him. kaido I shrug it off as the plothole it usually is in pokemon games. levels 47-50. Noibat evolves into Noivern, and kaido has himself a pretty strong team. Greninja, Delphox, Absol, Lycanroc, Noivern, Breloom. although he has just been choosing based on personal preference, it turnes out nicely. and yes I'm padding this out cause y'all know what gym is next.

Gym number 8. The psychic type gym, run by Saiki and Aiura. It doesn't get more cliche than this. The challenge in this one is a maze. There's no extra trainers here, instead Kaido fights Aiura everytime he encounters her. She only uses 1 Pokemon in these battles because they happen a lot. Kaido wonders how she keeps finding him, let alone getting through the maze so easily when there's walls everywhere. He brushes it off as her just knowing the layout. battle itself happens, and it's a double battle. they each have 3 pokemon. Saiki has a ditto, espeon, and an alolan raichu (because he thought it was cute) Aiura mainly runs the support side of the team, and she's got a female meowstic, alakazam, and reuniclus, and wishes she had a cuter team, but she makes it work. This is prolly Kaido's second hardest gym. not harder than teruhashi's because he had no advantages, unlike this one where he's got several dark types. the battle is hard because they know exactly what kaido is gonna do. the minute he sends out his breloom to get a cheap paralysis, out comes ditto. the breloom ditto nearly wipes out both dark types, but noivern takes care of it, only to meet a sad demise at the hands of raichu, despite the dragon advantage. he's able to win on his second try, after he refused to send out breloom due to the fact that they just seem to know his next move. it creeped him out. Psychic badge done.

nendo tries to take saiki out for ramen with him and kaido after his gym fight, declaring him his best buddy, and it's not explained why nendo decided this. nendo eventually wins the argument and they get ramen. kaido notices saiki looks disturbed everytime he looks at nendo, but brushes it off as "yeah he disturbs me too." they part ways and onto victory road because im still mourning how there wasn't one in sword and shield. after victory road, kaido is nearing level 60 on everyone.

elite four? eheh i don't know who'd make it up. prolly 4 previous gym leaders with fully evolved teams and more pokemon. not tlo worries about them tho.

Kaido bests the elite four, and marches on to the champion.

Champion Akechi. Full team of 6 Pokemon, and he's a formidable opponent. He's able to easily predict what moves are going to be used next, and always has type advantage. Although, unlike before, while difficult to do, it is possible to do something unpredictable to trip him up, which is the only way Kaido is able to win. His team consists of Serperior, Glaceon, Gyrados, Ninetales, Togekiss (it's just there to be annoying, it can barely attack, and akechi did this to be a nuisance so he can't be clean sweeped), and Mew. Again, I love unexplained lengendaries on teams okay. To Kaido, it seems like with enough switching, he could easily defeat Akechi, but Akechi is very good at predicting. So againist Akechi, it's like the team as been catered specifically to beat Kaido. But, knowing him, it likely was. It takes him ages to beat Akechi. Like literal ages. The only saving grace is Akechi can get tripped up if Kaido is unpredictable enough. It's likely a mixture of that and para hscks that lets him win, and Kaido is champion. Nendo did try to challenge him (somehow beating the elite four) but was beaten. I love how the rivals always beat everything but then get horribly beaten by you.

Holy shit this is longer than i thought it would be. I have been writing this for literal hours. Hope you enjoyed. This is what my brain had inspiration for today apparently, instesd of the fic im working on.

Hadn't seen too much Pokemon stuff for saiki k yet, so tada. and yes, i came up with most of this while writing. the only idea i had before i started writing was the saiki and aiura gym

#saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #kaidou shun #nendo riki #teruhashi kokomi #chiyo yumehara #akechi touma #saiko metori #kuboyasu aren #hairo kineshi #toritsuka reita #aiura mikoto #mera chisato #pokemon #pokemon au #saiki kusuke

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