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phenomenalgirl9 · 11 months

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Taehyung x Reader: Stand down

Summary: All you wanted was to keep on your job as an agent and fend for your child. But, a certain fellow agent made it difficult for you. However, fate has different plans.

A/n: Been holding onto this for sometime now

Wc: 5.7k (ish)

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You've worked under Mr. Bang for almost 20 years now, ever since he found you fleeing through the streets of Daegu when you were 13, trying to run away from child care services. He took you in, he treated you as his own. He helped you learn self defense, then weapons. He fed you, clothed you, nurtured you and made you his most prized agent, he never made it seem like he did a favor on you. He was the person whom you'd consider as a father. He was there for you and he trusted you. He was there for you even when you got pregnant and decided to keep the baby. You're little baby girl Bora, he loved her to pieces and called her Grandpa.

When you got back to work after your pregnancy, (he gave you a 6 months leave after pregnancy, he gave it to all his female agents) and you were looking for babysitters who could be trusted he offered to look after her while you worked, it's not like either of you had any other family to turn to anyway.

If you had to say you were one of the best agents of Bangtan, one would call you guys hired goons but you all are hireable agents. The other best agent being your mortal rival Kim Taehyung. The sassy bitch so thinks he's so good at everything. "Now, now, don't fight, it wasn't either of your faults. The one who is to blame here is the person who gave false intel. I'll send in an agent to it, you both go back" Mr. Bang said. You walked to the nursery he had set up for Bora and found the girl sleeping. You picked her up and exited through the back door and kept her in the back seat and were near the driver's door when you heard footsteps and your hand hovered over your gun, before putting it back down.

"What do you want?" You asked bitterly. "What's with the venom in your voice? Anyway, the next time Mr. Bang appoints you and I in the same unit, ask him not to" he said glaring at you. "Why me? Don't you have a mouth of your own?" You taunted him. You want to get into the car and just drive off but you can't, he would see Bora the moment you opened the door, he can't right now cause the windows are all tinted. Actually nobody knows about her, you, Mr. Bang and your best friend Jungkook, considering that would be for the best for safety reasons.

"Fine. Whatever" he said and walked to a different direction. Dumb man, you muttered as you got inside the care and dived away. It's not like any one can be excluded from the team. The team alpha of Bangtan, Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and you, Mr. Bang's most trusted agents. You reached your apartment and punched in the numbers and set the sleeping Bora down on her bed and decided to get fresh and check schedules.

Tomorrow you had a special mission, an assassination, after a long time. You checked the blue prints and the plan that Seokjin sent you. You sighed and heard your phone ring, "Namjoon. Ssup?" you said,

-Yeah. I think we should assign 3 more people to your squad, it'll help and ensure the safe escape, incase Plan A goes cheese.

(That's the way you guys talk cause Mr. Bang says saying the 'F' word is unlucky)

I was thinking the same thing, okay I'll text them.

-Just call them

Why don't you do it then?

-Fine. Be careful, okay?

Yeah Joon.

And you hung up.

"Mama~" you heard Bora call you running to where you were sitting. "Yes bubba?" You said eyes still on the blue prints, when you heard silence and looked at her. She just stood there, with her hands in the air. You smiled at her antics and picked her up and placed her on your lap and repeated "yes bubba?". "Does it hurt?" She asked, pointing at the drying wound on your cheek. "nope, it's okay, it's healing" you said amused at your child's concern. "Wah. Grandpa said Mama is strong. She will always protect Bora '' she said. "Grandpa is right. Mama will always protect Bora." You said, patting her head. At this Bora stepped down off your lap and ran to her room. You shook your head and went back to look through the papers. When you heard her come back, with a..... Lightsaber? "Bora where-" before you could answer.

"From now, Bora will also proteck Mama!" She said, A pan on her head and towel tied around her neck. And you knew where this was coming from. Yet you asked "Bora? Where did you get the lightsaber?"

"Uncle Kookie" she said with a wide smile and you shook your head and smiled.

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The next morning you, dropped Bora at Mr. Bang's and went to the Bangtan house. "Jungkook, did all 8 of them report?" you asked as you took the tab from his hand and made sure the last moment arrangements were okay. One by one the agents piled in, and you set off for your destination, Taehyung's van hot in pursuit.

As you reached, you two made no eye contact. Jungkook and his assistant Jimin, nod at each other, and the two squads sneak inside the building through two pathways. As your group sneaked directly in, Taehyung's squad took the Fire exit route.

"Something's wrong" you said as soon as you and your squad reached the floor. "Why, the blueprints match," Jungkook said. "The guards," Taehyung said through the intercom.

"Shit! They know! Retrea-" Y/n was interrupted but the sound of a bullet going off.

"Incoming!" You screamed, and everyone jumped to get cover. "GET INTO THE LIFTs NOW!" Taehyung exclaimed as he jumped in through the fire exit. By then you were actively shooting the attackers hidden among the pillars.

"Y/n!" Jungkook screamed, as a bullet straight hit your arm, you turned the direction and shot two shots towards the rascal who hit you and he dropped.

Taehyung and Jungkook rushed to your side as Jimin guarded and kept shooting as the four of you walked into the elevator. "Y/n are you fine?!" Jungkook exclaimed. He asked as you were wearing a black shirt and the blood blotch can't be seen. You let out a shaky breath and suddenly all your phones started buzzing like crazy. Jimin pulled him out and was stunned. "The base is under attack," he said. "FUCK! THIS WAS ALL A SET UP" Taehyung screamed. You all immediately rushed out "Taehyung take Y/n!" You looked at Taehyung and he nodded at you, as the two of you climbed onto his motorbike.

Neither of you uttered a word, the base was at a secluded part and you were on a different side of the city. "FUCK FUCK FUCK" was all your mind can think. Mr Bang and Bora, you prayed they both were safe. Most of the agents were out for work today, only the basic security team were there. This means it was planned, it's an assassination. You tried your best to not let your worst thoughts intrude your mind.

As soon as you and Tae reach the gate, you find it open wide. The security all on the ground. You ran your way inside and shouted "Mr Bang! MR BANG!" You screamed as you passed finding most of the security shot. You were trembling by the time you reached the door to Mr Bang's room. You never noticed Taehyung and Jungkook who were already behind you. Jungkook pushed you aside and unlocked his guns safety and pushed the door open to only freeze on spot. You rushed in behind him to see, Mr Bang on the floor. A shot on his forehead and one on his chest. You stood there stunt tears stinging your eyes, you frantically ran out of the room, as Taehyung and Jungkook rushed to check if there was any chance he was alive, just if-

You ran towards the nursery and shouted "Bora!" But, didn't get an answer. Your hands were shaking as more tears spilled your eyes. "Bora! BORA!!" you cried out loud. Taehyung surprised at your sudden outburst of the unfamiliar. "Ahjussi!! Bora!!" You cried tears running out in streams as you crashed onto your knees. "Y/n" Taehyung held your shoulder and didn't know what to say or ask when Jungkook screamed "Y/n!!! Y/n, in here! Quick!!"

Y/n stood up and ran and found Jungkook sticking his ear on the wall behind Mr Bang's chair and desk. Mr Bang's secret chamber! You thought and rushed to the opposite wall and opened the starry night painting revealing the keypad. You put in the password and the door slid open. "Bo-bora?" Jungkook asked in a low-soft voice. "Uncle Kookie!" Bora called and Jungkook walked in, and in the queue you rushed in and picked your baby girl in your arms, kissing her cheek. "Bora bubba, are you okay?" You asked in tears. "Yes mama~" she said, wiping your eyes. You didn't see it but Taehyung's (who was standing and watching you hug a child and Jungkook patting the kid's head) eyes went wide.

"Bubba you go home with Uncle Kookie, mama will join you in a while" you said, patting her head and looking at Jungkook. He nodded his head and picked up Bora, covering her eyes and walking out. By then the rest of the hit team were there. Namjoon, Jin, Jimin, Hoseok (who was busy on another assignment that night), And Taehyung watched in awe as they saw Jungkook carry a child outside the room, through the fire exit. They got more confused when she shouted "Bye mama" and they all looked at you for answers.

"She's my daughter," you said. And you watched all of their eyes go wide, and you added "Just mine". You didn't notice, but Taehyung seemed to take a sigh of relief. "When you went to Seoul 4 years ago and stayed for 2 years. Was it-" Hoseok was hesitating to ask. "Yes. I was pregnant, but I was also setting up the small office there. Helped Mr Bang's nephew and all. I didn't want anyone to know. Only Jungkook knew and of course Mr Bang knew too" you explained. "You did what you thought was the best. Don't worry, now we'll all be more aware and careful" Namjoon said and you walked and dropped beside Mr Bang's now lifeless body. "Mr Bang? I'm so sorry and thankful to you" you managed to let out and broke down, the 5 others came to their knees beside and behind you. "Thank you for saving me all those years ago, you were the closest person I had to a father. Thank you for teaching me everything. Thank you for supporting me, for saving my baby. Mr Bang! How will I repay you" you said and completely broke down. Someone immediately embraced you, you were too grieved to notice, it was Taehyung who jumped and hugged you. Hoseok and Jin patted you head and back, as they all wiped their tears. He was a fatherly figure to all of you, he took all of you in at certain times of your lives.

"Y/n! Jimin! Mr Bang!" A sound came from outside, and a pale cat-like man came running to the door frame, you all looked as he entered the room and went paler. You stood up and walked to him and embraced him. The last piece of the hit team, the one who handled all and every legal matter of bangtan, Min Yoongi. "I can't believe he's gone" he just said.

"I will find whoever did this" You said, leaving the embrace and wiping your eyes. "We're with you," Seokjin said.

"I-I have his will" Yoongi revealed "We need to go through that as soon as things are sorted here".

"His nephew is already on the way," you said. The room was silent in your apartment, it was a rare sight to see all of you in one place and the place to be silent. Come to think of it, this was the first time the others ever came to your house you all always met at Mr Bang's but staying there became too much. Everyone just sat there staring at a distance, except Yoongi and Namjoon, one was working with papers and the other was on his laptop, these workaholics and their dumb coping mechanisms, you thought. Soon you received a text and you texted back to your floor. You whispered to Jungkook who was sitting beside you to open the door. "Y/n" your name sounded from a voice coming from the door, the voice had a different accent, which became clear as he uttered "oh my god, are you guys okay??"

"Chris!" You said, standing up and he opened his arms inviting you into them. "I couldn't protect him, Chris! I'm so sorry!" You said sobbing again. "It's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself" Chris said, stroking your head. Only Jin noticed the way Taehyung gritted his teeth and tightened his fists. "Where are the others?" You asked as you let go. "I brought Minho and Jisung with me, the others are minding the office there, but they can come for any emergency alert, I have full plans ready for all that. But, where is Bora?" Chris asked. "She's sleeping in the room" Jungkook said and he nodded. "I wish we would be meeting under different circumstances but anyways, this is our hit team" you said introducing everyone, one by one, "guys this is Christopher Bang, Mr Bang's nephew" you said.

"Now that everybody is here, it's time to read the will" Yoongi said. And eveyone nodded and took a seat. "First the assets he had alot, he left 2% teach for the Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Myself. 35% to Y/n, 35% to Chris and the rest 16% to Bora" he said and you eyes went wide, "She can access 3% of it when she's 15, 6% went she starts college and the rest after she's 22" Yoongi added. "Now, the gang will be a bit reorganized. Y/n will be replaced by Taehyung as the chief agent. Chris will remain the head of the Seoul office and expand it and Y/n will sit as the head now. As his-" Yoongi stopped to take a breath, "As his daughter, his heir"you covered your mouth in shock. You were sure Chris would be the head, you looked at him and he was looking at you, his eyes seemed proud. "You deserve it, Y/n-ah" Jungkook said, shaking you. "Now, we find who-" Jimin started but was interrupted by Namjoon saying "Found it!". Everyone jumped at his sudden outburst. "What happened Joon?" Jin asked. "I got the coordinates of the IP that leaked out our information," Namjoon said, turning the screen. Taehyung immediately put them in his phone and said. "It's somewhere in Gyeonggi-do," he said. "Send it to me, I'll ask my men to go there and bring him here" Chris said. Taehyung looked at you but you nodded at him. "You all rest, you all look too tired, especially Y/n" Chris said and Jin nodded. "Lets spread out in the room and Y/n go to bed" he said. "I'll join Bora in her room. A few of you take my room and others get blankets and adjust here" you said. You really were tired, with a last hug Chris went to check on the mansion as the rest found places to settle.

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You received a call, it was hardly 7 in the morning "Yeah?" You answered "okay" you replied and woke yourself up. You called Jungkook and put him on Bora duty as you contemplated whom to call, as if on cue Taehyung got up from the couch. "I'll go" he just said, "Fine" you muttered, as you couldn't help but notice his chiseled abs that he was covering up by doing his buttons. You mentally scolded yourself for that. The whole ride was silent. As soon as you reached you saw a very known face on the ground. "YOU!" you screamed and rushed up the stairs and kicked the man on the chest as he rolled back with a scream.

"We found these with him," Felix said, pointing at a laptop that Namjoon is currently on. "When did you get here?" You asked. "A few minutes before you" you nodded and said "Get him on the chair" and put your hair in a bun. As if mechanically Felix and Jisung picked the bound man up and dragged him to the free chair and placed him on it. You walked behind Namjoon and asked him what he found only for him to say that it was all encrypted and the code isn't hackable.

You strided off to the man and pulled him by his hair to face him upwards. "WHAT. IS. THE. CODE. Park?" only for him to laugh, showing his bloody teeth, probably received from Chris or Felix. "Answer her" Taehyung said and pinched his ear, both of you held strong as the man struggled and screamed. "Chris" you called and signaled him. Taehyung and Chris now hit and pinched the man questioning him. As you called Felix behind Namjoon. "Did he have anything else around him? Any scanner?" You asked. And Felix shook his head a No. "Y/n! His fingers" Namjoon suddenly said and you looked at the Laptop to find a fingerprint scanner. "Boys bring him here" you said and they tried one by one and it did open. "You can't kill me. Else you won't get the fingerprint. It's encoded on every level with my thumb and it is needed multiple times" he said and cracked up and a gun went off. Everyone looked at you and then at the silent man, who is now quite dead with a bullet on his forehead "Thank you for the information". "Y/n?" Chris, Namjoon and Taehyung said at the same time. "Felix. Chop off that bastard's finger and store it in the freezer, take a print of it first though. Namjoon, decode that damn thing. I gotta get my daughter ready for school" you said and walked off, getting an agent to drive you home.

"She killed him?" Namjoon uttered after you left. "She's never hit any vitals of anyone who hasn't attacked her" Taehyung said, finally letting the dead corpse down as Chris did the same. All shocked at the fact that you killed someone and didn't even blink.

As your car went Park's words ran on your mind 'information is always sellable on the market as long as you can buy it' he had said to Felix when he asked who bought him off. You closed your eyes and breathed in and out. "You're almost home, Bora mustn't see you like that".

You walked to your apartment and walked in to find Bora playing with Jungkook and Jimin, as Jin and Hoseok were cooking in the kitchen. You walk in and you find him packing lunch in Bora's lunch box.

"Mama!" Bora ran to you and hugged your legs. You patted your daughter's head and said "Bubba lets get you ready for school" you told her and she started blabbering, making you smile. "You know, uncle Jimin and uncle Hobi are so fun. Uncle Jin made yummy lunch for Bora" she went on, happy to meet new uncles. You felt happy that she had more people in her life, but at what cost, is what you thought. When you went back to the mansion with Junkook, Jimin, Hoseok, Jin and the food, you found Felix sleeping on the couch and Taehyung, Chris and Namjoon huddled in front of that laptop screen. "What did you find?" you asked them. "What the fuck! Who killed JYP?" Hoseok exclaimed as soon as he entered the room. "I did, he cheated us. Call some agents and get this removed" you said. "On it" Jimin said and walked out. "The Chois" is what Taehyung utter when he looked up. Your blood started boiling, the Chois had a contract with Mr Bang to not interfere with the affairs of bangtan. “These RASCALS” you said “Jungook, call the alpha team” as you started leaving the room while bringing out your gun and checking it. “Y/n! No” Chris and Taehyung said at the same time. “Are you crazy!” Chris said. “You will get yourself killed! What about Bora? Us? Think of what’s at stake before you act up. “Ah! FUCK!” you cursed and sat down on the top step of the stairs, hand on your head. FInally letting it all out, letting the tears fall. “Mr Bang. How could I let this happen” Jungkook and Hoseok rushed to hug you from both sides. You felt another weight on your back and it's probably Jimin. “He loved all of us so much. He loved Bora so much. SHe was asking if she could play with Grandpa today! What will I tell her?!” you sobbed, tears flowed endlessly. All the others were crying by then. “Let's take them down,” Taehyung said, finally coming in front of you and wiping away your tears. You looked up at him, his eyes wet but he had a look of determination in his face. There was no facade in that look, no ego, no sarcasm, it’s like it's a complete different Kim Taehyung. “We are all in this together” he said. “And you are boss” Chris said from behind “You’re supposed to lead us and take care of us and we’ll protect you and each other and Bora” He added and you nodded your head. You looked around at all these people along with the once working around the house, these are your people now. “Let’s do this,” you said.

Mr Band’s funeral was held three days after he died, it was closed off, only the rituals and the agents. You were introduced to them as their new leader.

“I found these blueprints of their mansion,” Jin said and spread them out. “But we need someone to check if it's credible,” He said. “Let's send in two agents to check it out and we need the maintenance schedules of their house and locations of other safe houses” You said. “Let's put Hobi and Jisung on a look out. We'll know the people who visit regularly and will have the element of surprise. Thanks to Minho who has been his bodyguard undetected, we have so much information on him” Taehyung said, noting these down on the white board. In a white shirt that opens 2 buttons from the collar, messy hair, one hand stuck into the trouser and specs. He looked godly okay, and you couldn’t help but notice that. He suddenly looked towards you and your eyes met, a small smile enlightened his face and it reached yours too, this wasn’t the first time this happened. “So, we're ready with the plan apart from the authenticity of the blueprint, its not very essential but it's safer, we’ll see to that and Jin’s on Bora duty today, and we have a meeting with a dealer” Chris said. “I’m off then” Jin said as he winked and walked away and you shook your head. The boys adore your daughter, she also adores her, uncle Joonie, Jinie, Yooni, Hobi, Jiminie and Tata, she already loved Kookie.

You, Taehyung and Chris went to meet your arms dealer and struck new deals. Well you bought some more stuff than arms. Yes you bought off information, thanks to Taehyung. A few business and client meetings and you were done for the day.

“Y/n, I’ll drop you home, you didn’t bring your car right?” Chris said. “You don’t have to worry. How is on my way I’ll just drop her” Taehyung said and grabbed your hand as he started walking towards his motorbike. “Taehyung!” you whisper yelled. But he didn’t say a word. He picked up one of the helmets and put it on your head and secured it, then put his own and started the bike, and waited for you to mount it, the moment you did and held onto his shoulders he drove off.

“Will you say something?” You finally said, not being able to take in the silence. “He can’t hit on you” he said. “Sorry what?” you said. “I said, he isn’t allowed to hit on you. Only I can do that!” he grumbled. “What’s wrong with you?” you asked but he stayed silent, you didn’t even notice you were reaching your alley and he stopped the bike in front of your house and the two of you climbed down. “Do you like him?” he finally asked. “Whom? Chris?” you asked and Taehyung nodded. “Lord! NO!” you denied, “Then don’t let him flirt with you” Taehyung said. “What why? It doesn’t do any harm” you said smiling only to stop when you noticed his eyes, dark and deep, you averted your eyes and were about to walk away. “But it does! It harms and hurts me! Y/n, for the past few days I have been painfully obvious. Not like I wasn’t before that. Can you stop running and look at me” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to himself "Please, stop pushing me away" he almost sounded like he'd break any moment.

"Mama~ Tata~" a sound came running towards you two (literally) and hugged Taehyung's legs. "Bora!" He lighted up instantly and picked her up and walked inside giving you one last look and you stood there dumbfounded. "Ssup?" Jin said and eas about to follow them but stopped to look at you. "What? Never been rejected by your own blood?" Jin asked jokingly. You still stood there and Jin started to worry "Y/n? What's wrong?"

"Jin, can I talk to you?" you asked and he nodded standing in front of you, giving you his full attention.

The two of you settled on a bench in the nearby park.

"Taehyung, he-" you stopped, you still couldn't say it. "Don't tell me he grew balls and confessed to you" Jin said being his normal self but you looked at him in shock. "Wait really??" He got excited, "Wait, I thought you liked him too, why are you in tears?" he asked. You didn't even notice you were crying until he said "I don't know, if this was before then it wouldn't have been a matter. But now? I can't jump into things I have Bora" you said. "Did you see how she jumped Taehyung before you? She was literally talking about you and how. That's mostly all she talks about, and a little bit about Kookie and us. She adores him." Jin said. "And that's what I am afraid of. What if he decides he can't do it?" You said. "You've seen Taehyung grow up Y/n. He never talks without thinking, and he's loved you for so long, ALL OF YOU, then and now, all this time. He loves Bora too, you should see the way he looks at you both" Jin said, patting your head. "Now, let's go back, I'll cook something for all-" he was interrupted by the sound of his phone. …. "What? Fuck!" Jin said and looked at you "Okay!"

"Y/N quickly get your car and meet Taehyung at the alley behind your building. Quick!" Jin said and you stood up and ran, thank god for Mr Bang made it your habit to always wear shoes in which you can run. You rushed into your parking lot and pulled out of it as fast as you could and rushed to the back alley. You noticed Taehyung walking towards the car and opened the door for him as he jumped inside and said "Drive Drive"

"Where is Bora?!" You asked and then got shocked to see his arm shot and bleeding. "She's with Jin Hyung. Drive quick" he said, and you did, you drove towards the mansion , "Not towards the mansion, if someone follows me, then they'll reach the mansion and Bora too" He said. You turned the car towards the Gyeongsan safe house.

"Will you be okay?" You asked. "It's not deep, the bullet just scratched me" he said and you shook your head. The sound of your phone broke the silence. "Receive it" you said, Taehyung put it on speaker. "Y/n! The Chois are running away, we'll miss our chance and we need to empty the mansion as well. What do I do" he said. And you harshly stopped the car. "Fuck!" You curse "wait" think Y/n, Think. "Get the plan into motion right now, call all agents and go full offense, send Bora to Seoul with Jin and Felix"

"Are you sure?" Taehyung asked, "What other choice do we have if we need to stop him from going and the attacks, we have to. What if Minho gets into trouble? We need to do this. Now, Chris do it" you said, determinedly. "Ok boss, you both need to stay safe. Minho told me you have a tail" he warned. "Okay. You all be safe" you said, almost reaching the house and pulling inside the forest. You then helped Taehyung out and the two of you made your way through the forest. "There's someone following us, I just feel it" you said, and looked behind scanning the trees. You brought out your gun and took off the safety lock. "You stay here" you said. "Y/n you can't do that, get back" Taehyung barked. "I need to protect you. I can't lead people to the safe house" you whispered, Taehyung saw the determination in your eyes. He held your hand and pulled you to him, crashing his lips to yours, "come back to me safely, Bora would be waiting" He said as he pulled away. Your mind went black for a moment but you nodded. You had to protect him, and you will.

You slowly crept towards the trees where you heard the sounds, one, two and three, there were three people, you had enough bullets but taking on three would be a bit difficult until, you heard Taehyung shoot a shot loudly. Why did this dummy take off his silencer? You thought, but then you realised. They all were distracted. You aimed and hit the one closest to you on the head and he deopped, two and down. Suddenly the last one looked back and pinted his gun at you, you were in his close range "fuck!" You cursed and were about to run to take cover, but the man dropped, showing a huffing Taehyung behind him.

"I told you to not move!" You said as you ran and hugged him. "I hate you" you said as he held you tight with his unhurt arm. The two of you made your way towards the safe house.

You cleaned his wound and bandaged it. You had received word that Jin and Felix had left safely and the mission is on noe you wait. You couldn't help but notice how chiselled his body was, you won't say you never imagined how his body would be like below those button up shirts. You now realise that the comments you thought were sarcastic, he actually made them to get a reaction from you. His comments you took to be teasing were actually him flirting. "A picture would last longer" he said, with a smirk, making you realize that you were indeed staring. You wanted to run that smirk off his face and so you did the most intrusive thing that came to your mind. "Really?" You taunted, as you started unbuttoning your shirt, slowly one by one, you noticed him gulo and his eyes following every move of yours. You finally took it off and placed it on the counter and slowly walked towards him. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unlike the deers it excited him.

You walk towards him in a tank top and jeans, damn his luck. You stood in front of him and fisted his hair, turning his face above towards you and kissed him roughly. You let him know all you feelings through that one kiss. How you've been in love with him for so long, how his words always got to you, how you felt hurt and hooked up with someone when he had declared that he was dating someone else. How you felt now, with all these pent up feelings. He immediately held your waist and brought you down on his lap. Your hair roamed his bare body and flicked his nippled as he moaned inside your mouth. You locked your hands behind him and hugged him as you made out. Tae pulled away and attacked your neck. "You mine" he growled as he hit a specific place that made you moan and he made sure to leave marks. Soon you tank top came off, as Taehyung went in awe seeing you. "You're so beautiful" he whispered as he dove to kiss you.

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You heard your phone ring and sat up, a heavy arm still on your waist.

"It's done, the Leader is down, we've set a meeting with his three sons to discuss the new terms of business" Chris said. "Oh my god. Thank god, everyone is safe right?" You asked. "Yeah a few are hurt but nothing much" he sent forces to attack us, but thanks to your timely response we evaded them and found him on time." He said and you laughed, you finally hung up sayung you see them all at Yoongi's the next day.

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7 months later

"Mama~" Bora asked, "Yes Bubba" you d

Said, still planning out the business on the table with Namjoon and Hoseok as Tae and Jungkook played with Bora on the ground. "Can Tata stay with Bora and Mama always?" she asked you. "Always" Taehyung beat you to it and pulled Bora in a hug and said, patting her head. "Tata will always be there for Mama and Bora".

Later that night, you went in to switch off the lights in Bora's room, when you find Taehyung sleeping beside her, a story book in hand. You smiled at the two, the two most important people of your life, whom you'd protect at all cost.

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coleyo · 1 year

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BITTW CHAPTER 30

Micheal stormed into his room just after the previous events.

'If they can do it why can't I, I'm not a baby..'

He'd utter under his breath, making another portal couldn't be that hard.. they'd take their hands up to view before glaring at them, small but fond memories of the whole kraang incident came to mind.. he'd tense up as tears pricked the corner of his eyes, the cracks were still there.. they never really seemed to fade, like Leo or raphs wounds. Leo survived with a few broken limbs and wounds, as for raph, he'd loose an eye. Donnie on the other hand became a bit more considerate all of the sudden, as for Micheal?

Everything seemed perfectly fine for him, but that just wasn't the case. He could barely do anything anymore, so much that he felt useless. But Micheal felt as if the others problems were more important.

She'd close her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, using everything he could to somehow, even think about what Mikey's universe could look like..

Mikey sat in donnies lab, he decided to run some test on him before setting him free.. Mikey would listen to the others talk, Leo laughing with Raph and draxum, and more. A smile showed on his face, but, why couldn't his family be this way?

"So..." A voice would interrupt the moment, Mikey turned to Donnie. "Enough with this anonymous silence.. how was I in the future?" Donatello raised a brow, causing Mikey to smile. "Aw man, you were awesome! Like my uncle or whatever!" Said the boy, "Go on, go on-- wait, uncle figure?" Donnies eyes lit up, "yeah, I got caught up in science, machines, they were weird! The good kind, like your kind of weird. I even got these goggles from you when you--" he'd pause, raising donnies suspicions, "when I..?" He continued.. "when-- when you died.. I- it was some time ago!.. for some reason you wanted to die. Everyone was lost-- even big mama, she was an aunt to me, we were a family! Each and every one of us-- she even made me this sweet skirt!"

Silence ensured shortly after before Mikey spoke once more, "Donnie.. did you-- make the key. For the whole kraang thing?" Donnie lifted his head, looking into Mikey's eyes sternly. "..I- i Won't tell I'm just curious! Your secrets safe with me y'know."

"..that's really-- nice, Mike'." Donnie paused and began writing something down on a piece of paper hung on a clip board. A loud crash interrupted the moment, coming from Micheals room. Mikey and Donnie turned theirs heads to the direction of the source of the noise.

"Did that come from..--"

Suddenly, Mikey was cut off by Donnie shooting up from his seat and rushing towards his room. Donnie must've been very.. agile?

Mikey stood and followed Donatello, turning the corner.

"MICHEAL WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Donnie shouted, as Mikey finally reached his destination. A yellow portal flashed Infront of Micheal, yellow cracks covered the exterior of his body, they were in serious pain, but kept doing It. By then, the portal was nearly formed.

Micheal looked back at Donnie and Mikey as the cracks had reached neck level, his eyes widened as his mouth hung open, but it was too late.

A loud bang interrupted the moment, following along with a flash of light..

Both Donnie and Mikey flinched, but after that, nothing.. once they looked up, Mikey was gone..

Only a portal remained..

"..w- where.."

Mikey muttered as Donnie fell back. "Micheal.. MICHEAL!" Donnie called, just as Leo and raph entered the room. Casey and April followed shortly after, almost everyone. They showered Donnie with questions, but they'd only respond with phrases like, "They're gone, Micheals gone, he's not coming back" the purple ninja shoved past his family whilst raph tried calm the frantic ninja down.

Once the room was empty, Mikey's head whipped towards the shrinking portal. Hesitantly, they'd reach their shaky hand through it.. it was warm.. suddenly he was hit by a wave of sudden memories. Immediately, they boy pulled away..

"...Home?"

The other uttered..

This was his chance, his only chance to finally put this all to an end..

But..

He couldn't.

Where was Michael, he needed to know. He wanted to help. Mikey shook his head, turning away and running towards donnies lab. Comotion came from the area.

"Donnie, what are you doing you weirdo, where's Micheal!" Leo urged, as Casey frowned, "and what do you mean he's g-gone.." the human spoke. "What are you doing don, please, just tell us.." April demanded in a gentle tone of voice.

"I- I don't know where he is but I still have those trackers on you guys! A- and our--"

"The speakers!" Raph smiled, as the other nodded, praying that his little brother was alive..

"..there should also be an accessible camera, I updated it, see.." Donnie turned to a computer, typing his passcode in. This made Mikey chuckle dispite the dire situation. "..Bootyshaker9000..? Great name dude."

Donnie glared, causing Mikey to shut up.

A camera opened, in the top leftcorner it read, Michealangelo's angle. "Micheal? Michael, it's Donnie! Damn it, can you hear me.." Tears fell down Donnies cheeks as static came from the other end.. "MICHEAL!" He'd shout before a hand was placed on his shoulder, "Donnie.." raph spoke softly. "..H-- he can't be gone.. I just know he can't, why didn't he listen.." they boy huffed as tears fell. Silence endured before mumbling came from the camera, emerging into sobs. Their attention shifted onto the camera as Donnie gasped,

"M- Micheal?"

"Donnie-- Donnie, is- is that you?"

Donatello let out a relieved laugh, as the others sighed. Though they didn't know where he was, or make out anything he was saying.. there was hope.

"Micheal listen--" Raphael started, "where are you? Can you turn the camera on?" ,"..cam..camera? Yeah --" their voice sounded shaken, as if they were trying to be quiet, Chocking on tears in the process. The screen flashed to micheals view, it was dark, even with the camera turned towards him.. it looked like they were.. hiding?

"..Raph- Donnie.. I'm scared.." he uttered, tears fell down his cheeks as his voice cracked. Leon's eyes widened, "...Micheal. where are you."

The place looked familiar..

"..t- the prision dimension, I don't know how I got here... It's dark, and.. i- I heard whispering." Leon tensed up before urging, "Micheal, listen CLOSELY. Be quiet. Do NOT move, stay RIGHT there.." "I can't, the sounds getting closer i- I wanna go home!" "..do you have your weapons?" Leo asked, almost pushing Donnie out of the way. "Yeah-- I actually do.. Leo,-- the kraang, what if.."

"April, go tell dad and draxum what's happening." Raph said, as the girl nodded and ran off with Casey. "Leo, what's your plan."

"..To get Micheal out of there he CANT be in there. If the kraang finds him--" Leo was cut off by a crash coming from Micheals camera. Micheals eyes widened as he sat up, backing away. The sound only got closer.

"..Leo--guys, i-.." Micheal paused before hearing a bone chilling growl.

"..Micheal.. behind you.."

#rottmnt #tmnt #mondomikey #rottmnt au #tmnt au #tmnt 2012 au #rottmnt fandom #the usagi chronicles #rottmnt fanfiction

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deluluass · 3 years

Text

Red, like blood. Blue, like love.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au

Prompt: 88 & 183

There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.

"Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”

She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.

Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers.

Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”

“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you.

“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”

And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.

“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”

You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.

“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”

It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be.

Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.

Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.

Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.

Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.

Fat lot of good it did for you.

Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.

Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that.

You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.”

Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.

“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”

You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again.

You moved out of that school.

You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better.

There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).

The proof hit you in the face. Literally.

“Oi, Shittykawa!”

Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium.

“You hit someone!”

How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes?

You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.

“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”

“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.

In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you.

Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.

Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.

If he’s here, then—

“You,” he whispered.

“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.

He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.

“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”

That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it.

The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle.

Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.

Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.

“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!”

This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early.

“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”

Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience.

You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about.

“They’re so mean to you.”

You groaned.

Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room.

He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”

You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.

“Must be lonely, having no one.”

“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.

But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows.

When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”

You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave.

You disliked those moments with him.

You disliked him especially when he played.

Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face.

It looked like....anger.

He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?

You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again.

As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach.

Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away.

That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.

They lost the Interhigh tournament.

You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully.

The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself.

What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.

“Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”

Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:

“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”

Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face.

This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.

You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat.

He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!”

“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”

Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”

Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!”

Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa.

“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?”

“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.

You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice.

“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”

His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”

This isn’t going anywhere.

You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does.

“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”

The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed.

He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?

You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.

You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.

Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.

“You’ll never be happy,” you said.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer.

Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?”

(Go. Leave.)

“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”

(Shut up. Shut up.)

“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this.

“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.”

Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.

“What about you?”

You looked back at him.

“What?”

He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards.

He brushed your wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it.

Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time.

But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru.

It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.

You broke away from each out with a cry.

Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores.

You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations.

“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”

“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

Well, it’s not as if this is news to you.

“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”

Why are you crying?

Why is Oikawa crying?

“I knew it,” he croaked.

Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason.

There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?

Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide.

Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth.

Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else.

You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.

“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”

You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed.

Listen carefully, your mother said.

“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.

The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—

Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.

And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—

“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss.

The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.

"Hey, where'd senpai go?"

The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.

"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say.

You could answer that question. All you had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"

Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first.

Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."

With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.

The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.

He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.

"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard.

You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-

But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you.

Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite.

Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.

(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)

His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.

"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.

You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.

And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.

"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.

Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.

"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"

He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.

"Now, what were you saying?"

You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this.

"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"

It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.

But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.

His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.

"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."

"Oika-Oikawa…"

You don't know this person.

"Help..me.."

You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs.

It couldn't be you.

"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"

Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."

"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"

(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)

Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.

"Wanna- I wanna cum."

Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."

He released your arms.

Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.

"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."

His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh.

"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."

You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster.

You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.

He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours.

You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you.

"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."

The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips.

They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.

"Holy shit."

You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.

It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.

Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."

"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"

"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "

You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”

There were several gasps.

(Everybody knows now.)

“You..and her?”

The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.

“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?”

Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left.

Except for one.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.

“What did you do, Oikawa?”

A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”

Please.

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything.

Please help me.

“Sure,” he grunted.

He was gone, too, after that.

You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear.

“I hate you,” you rasped.

“Don’t say that.”

“I fucking hate you-”

“Please stop yelling-”

“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”

“You’re the only one for me.”

Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.

“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together.

The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #yandere oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x female reader #dark content haikyuu #prompt

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter Seven}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was out with Elain, Mor, Emerie, Amren, and Gwen for the night.

She had no idea when she’d be home.

This meant one thing and one thing only.

It was Cassian’s first night alone with Nyx.

It was no different than being home alone with Nyx during the day, which Cassian had been a handful of times thus far. However, Nyx didn’t seem to need as much during the day.

Eat, sleep, play, repeat.

At night, he needed a dinner, a bath, his bottle, to be rocked, to be put down for the night…which was something he never liked doing. A daytime nap? He didn’t mind. Sleeping for nine hours? Apparently that thought just pissed him off.

Nesta was a pro at getting him to sleep for the night. Cassian had offered once to do it and failed miserably.

“Not tonight, little man,” Cassian said to Nyx as they sat at the dinner table together. “Tonight, you’re going to bed the first time for Uncle Cassian.”

Nyx looked at Cassian and giggled.

Cassian scoffed. “Don’t mock me.”

Dinner with Cassian meant Nyx got the good shit. No puréed green beans or mashed carrots tonight. After he’d polished off a small jar of the cinnamon apples, Nyx had eaten nearly half a tube of puréed sweet potato, and Cassian was eating his own food. He took a bite of supreme pizza and pointed at him, before holding up a single finger. “After this, we’re gonna take a bath, and you aren’t going to throw water everywhere or poop in the tub, got it?”

Nyx just banged his little hand on the tray of his high chair, causing more sweet potato to fly onto himself, grinning up at Cassian.

“Then one last bottle before bed, while I read you a story,” he said, holding up a second finger. “I’m sure there will be a diaper change in there somewhere, so please go easy on me, yeah?”

Nyx played in the mess of mixed food in front of him.

“And then you go to bed, so I can watch a movie and pass out myself, and boom. Nesta can’t say anything about my parenting anymore cause I managed to keep you alive for a whole night.”

Nyx blew a raspberry at him before he started babbling.

Cassian took that as agreement.

“Perfect,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s dark hair as he shoved the rest of the pizza into his mouth with his other hand.

He got up to clear his plate, and by the time he went back to Nyx’s high chair, he had managed to make orange streaks in his black hair.

Courtesy of the sweet potatoes.

With a sigh, Cassian took the tray off the high chair and unbuckled Nyx, picking him up and carrying him toward the bath.

“You first, tray second,” Cassian said.

Nyx started patting his little potato covered hands on Cassian’s cheeks, giggling at the sound it made.

Cassian cringed at the way it felt. “Thanks for that.”

He filled the bathtub up, ensuring it wasn’t too hot, like Nesta had shown him, and got Nyx out of his messy clothes and into the tub. After he’d wiped his own face clean of sweet potato, he went to work on Nyx, who had somehow managed to get it on the back of his knees.

Twenty minutes and a full change of wet, soggy clothes later for Cassian, he was sitting in Nyx’s nursery, in the rocking chair in the corner, a book open in his lap.

“This would be a book your parents bought you,” he muttered, opening the front cover. After clearing his throat, he began, “The night sky of Velaris greeted all the townspeople, letting them know it was time to go to bed.” Nyx patted the page and babbled something incoherent. Cassian nodded. “Yeah, it’s a nice picture, isn’t it?” He went on reading the story, written by a local author, no doubt, and Cassian found himself snorting at some of the sentences, but Nyx was fully engaged.

By the time he had finished the book, Nyx was leaning back against him, fully relaxed in his pajamas.

Even Cassian let out a yawn.

“You know, the Velaris starlight was important to your parents,” Cassian said, rocking Nyx back and forth. “They fell in love on Starfall. At least, that’s what Rhys always said. He was in love with your mama long before that, but she started falling for him on Starfall.” Nyx’s dark lashes began to fall, his eyelids drooping. “That’s why they named you Nyx. In Greek, Nyx means night.”

Nyx’s hand gripped Cassian’s thumb. He looked down at the sight and chuckled, quietly.

The baby looked up at him then, with those big, blue eyes, eyes that were so blue, they looked violet in the dark. That dark hair that was starting to need a trim, falling into his eyes. Cassian blinked quickly, trying to keep the sudden tears from spilling over. “You look so much like your dad,” he whispered.

Nyx just continued to watch him, pacifier in his mouth, those eyes getting sleepier with every rock of the chair.

Swallowing harshly, Cass set the book down and resituated Nyx so he was laying against his chest. He gently rubbed his back, the way he saw Nesta do when he would get fussy.

“I miss your dad,” he said, softly. “I know you do, too, you’ve known him your whole life, but—. But so have I. And after twenty-eight years he’s just…gone.”

That dark head snuggled in closer against him, one of his little hands clutching Cassian’s t-shirt.

Cassian said nothing else. If he had, he wouldn’t have gotten them out clearly.

He rocked. He rocked and he rocked and he rocked until Nyx was snoring, softly. As carefully as he could, Cassian rose and laid Nyx down in his crib.

After waiting a moment to make sure he didn’t wake up, Cassian tiptoed out of the room and across the hall to his own bedroom.

He had just laid down and unlocked his phone when he heard crying.

Tossing his phone back on his pillow, Cassian was instantly up, hurrying back across the hall. Nyx’s feet were kicking, his arms waving wildly, perfectly unhappy.

“What’s going on?” Cassian asked, picking the baby up out of the crib and cradling him against his chest. “Huh? You were sleeping so nicely.”

He continued to cry, and no amount of bouncing or patting his back was seeming to work.

“Come on, dude,” he muttered, sitting back down in the rocker. He resumed the slow back and forth motion, praying it would soothe Nyx back into peaceful sleep. “We did the bath. We did the bottle. We did the book. This is when you go to sleep.”

He kept crying and Cassian just shushed him quietly, his hand resuming the gentle rubbing he had done before. It helped, but Nyx still sniffled. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m still scared I’m gonna do something to fuck up and I wouldn’t just be doing it to you, it’d be to Rhys, too.”

Nyx’s wailing returned, and Cassian tried to close his eyes and take deep breaths. It wasn’t working. With everything he tried, Nyx only cried more and more and more.

“Come on, buddy,” he begged. “It’s time for bed, alright? It’s time to calm down.” Nyx let out a cry so loud that Cassian nearly jumped, which only scared Nyx, making him cry louder.

Cassian tried changing his diaper, tried getting him to take his pacifier, but nothing helped. He continued to rock, continued to pat, continued to walk Nyx around his room, but nothing worked.

Nothing.

Defeated, Cassian laid Nyx back down in his crib. “Come on, bud. Come on.”

Nyx kept crying, and Cassian rubbed his temples, trying not to join his nephew in his agony.

“Shhhhhh,” Cassian began, leaning over the crib, patting Nyx’s stomach. “It’s time for bed, Nyx. It’s time for bed. If your parents were here right now, I’m sure you’d already be asleep. Shit, if Nesta were here, you’d already be asleep.” He shook his head. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

The baby replied by continuing to cry.

He swore quietly, and hurried across the hall grabbing his phone, dialing a number he’d unknowingly memorized. She answered on the second ring.

“Is everything okay?”

He couldn’t hear music and laughter in the background of the call, but heard how panicked her voice was. She must have stepped away from her friends. It only made him feel that much worse.

“I can’t get him to stop crying and go to sleep,” he admitted. “I don’t know what else to try.”

“You gave him his bottle?” She asked, and he nodded. Then audibly answered her. After that, she ticked off the checklist of things she usually went through. Every single one he’d already tried.

“It’s like it’s just me,” he said, trying to calm him down while he held the phone to his ear. He scooped him up into his arms and sat down in the rocking chair. “He hates me and won’t go to sleep.”

She was quiet for a minute. “You know that’s not true, Cassian. He loves you.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, quietly, low enough that he wasn’t sure if the receiver could pick it up over Nyx’s wailing.

But it didn’t matter, because he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs.

When Nesta rounded the corner, she wasn’t expecting to find Cassian looking defeated in the rocking chair. She pretended not to see the tears on his handsome face as she dropped her purse by the door of the nursery and took Nyx. She began to soothe him and tried to give him back his pacifier, but he wouldn’t take it.

“He’s cutting a new tooth,” Nesta said, carefully looking into his mouth, wide open thanks to a drawn out sob. “That’s all. He’s just uncomfortable, isn’t he?”

By the end of the sentence she was looking at Nyx, an over-exaggerated frown on her face.

She handed him back to Cassian and was downstairs and back with cooling, teething toy she’d pulled out of the freezer. He began to chew and gnaw on it the moment she handed it to him.

The crying quieted.

“There,” she said, smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead. “Better, yeah?”

Taking him from Cassian who hadn’t said a word since she walked in, she put him back into his crib and gently rubbed his belly. Within minutes, he was asleep again.

He murmured, “Thanks. You…didn’t have to end your night early for me.” He gestured toward the front door. “You can head back out. I can— I can handle it now.”

She shook her head. “I was on the way home. Turns out I wasn’t really in the going out mood.”

Cassian nodded, and said no more. He simply watched Nyx, his chest rising and falling. Nesta gave him a curt nod and walked out, back into the hall.

Cassian followed, shutting the nursery door quietly behind him.

“You did that so effortlessly.”

Nesta stopped and turned to face him near her bedroom, a brow raised. “Effortlessly?”

“I’ve been struggling for hours and you came in, and less than five minutes… He was out.” Cassian shook his head. “I’ve known him since the day he was born and I had no idea what he wanted.”

“He’s a baby, Cassian. He doesn’t even know what he wanted.”

“You knew,” he said, exasperated, exhausted.

She blinked, not expecting the tone of his voice to have sounded so…empty.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nesta said, looking at him, willing him to meet her eyes. He didn’t look up.

“It’s not okay,” he said, and suddenly his words were sharp. “Rhys trusted me to take care of him but I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

She shook her head. “They trusted us, but they knew it wouldn’t be easy. We knew it wouldn’t be easy. We just have to take it day by day and-.”

“It’s not okay!” His words weren’t loud but they were panicked. “I have to provide for him and I can’t fucking do it if I don’t know what he needs.”

“Cassian-.”

“Why would they choose me?” He asked, his voice quiet. Tears filled his eyes. He hated himself for it. “I never even wanted kids! I have no idea what to do with a kid, Nesta. I don’t know what parents are supposed to do, what dads are supposed to do, I didn’t even fucking have one.”

Nesta remained quiet, afraid to speak, afraid to move. She had never seen Cassian like this.

She didn’t think anyone had ever seen Cassian like this.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to do this,” he repeated. “I can’t— I can’t do this.”

She knew her words would mean nothing, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone in this, that they would figure it out together. It wouldn’t help him, wouldn’t ease his mind or his heart. That heart that was still broken from the loss of his best friend, his brother. So she did something she never thought she’d do.

She closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him.

Cassian didn’t move for a moment, he just let her slim arms wrap around his waist, not realizing that he was on the brink of losing it. He was fairly sure that right now, she was the only thing holding him together, both mentally and physically. But after a long minute, his own arms wrapped around her shoulder and he buried his face into the top of her hair. He didn’t care that his tears were soaking her hair, didn’t care that this was the woman he’d spent the past five years hating and avoiding like she was the damn plague.

He didn’t care that he was falling to pieces.

Standing in that hallway, with Nyx sleeping behind the closed bedroom door, Cassian wept, and he didn’t care who saw it.

#life as we know it #snacmc lawki #lawki #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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flr-house-husband-blog · 3 years

Text

Female Led Relationship In Real Life

FLR explained, the woman has final say on all matters. The man accepts her wishes, her wants, and her punishments. This isn’t the FLR most men dream about in real life which is sexual in nature; I can promise in real life it is much different and more rewarding long term for both parties involved.

For us, yes housework is my responsibility and it started out with her lowering the normal standard that she kept up so that I could get down a routine. Overtime I’ve gotten better and worked longer in rooms and areas that did not meet her standards. I want to say higher, but they were only higher standards to me when we were vanilla. I see now the importance of daily, weekly, and monthly deep cleaning chores and tasks. They really do make the house ready for guests at a moments notice without worry and it really lifts a level of stress off of her which reflects back into us and our time together.

I’ve been timed and my daily chores I can do in 20 mins if I hustle. Normally it takes me an hour in between making her breakfast or getting ready for or after my work. Either way my “right” to ask permission to play video games or have screentime on my phone is once my chores are complete. The weekly tasks I’ve broken down into days to accomplish them easier (for myself), to not get behind, and make sure I meet her expectation of cleanliness.

My fav part of our FLR which has led to has been more love, time, and attention towards her is a phone rule. Dinner at home or out, regardless with friends I have to ask permission to use my phone. Needless to say no one bats an eye as they think it’s great we’re not on our phones. I like to check google reviews and see photos of different food options at a restaurant and it’s almost always a yes when I ask and then I put it away or it goes in her purse. I will say getting to that level of discipline isn’t easy.

In FLR I thrived with any new rules or expectations as soon as Goddess Amy figured out the best punishments that one changed my perspective and made me do risk/reward calculations before taking an action. What worked for her and didn’t cause her too much additional time away from what she enjoyed and was highly effective for me was corner time (30+ mins sometimes) and marking down in my shared chore app her grievances, which I too could see and were addressed with the paddle when she so decided. Unlike fantasy FLR there is nothing fun about having your pants around your ankles and being met with a firm paddle. She knows once I’m over ten that each and everyone will be remembered throughly. She has taken it a step further and makes me recite while I’m being paddled. Again not sexy but to make sure i know what I did and what I should do again.

Writing lines or the same thing over and over on paper takes a lot of time and she doesn’t except sloppy work. When that comes up I know I’m metaphorically fucked. It’s the equivalent of a cold shoulder when we were vanilla and I know a conversation is coming.

FLR isn’t all chores and sex. It’s a means to have a more loving and quality filled relationship. It’s non-standard but really does the trick for us. Of note when you’ve been met with consequences for falling short on expectations it really does change you behavior and moments vanilla you might want to give constructive feedback or argue a point of view. In FLR skip it and if you don’t like the point/topic/discussion try and bring it up at the end of the day or week, and if you really want ask if she wants feedback and if she says yes then maybe; otherwise wait until the end of the day or week.

In real-life FLR I can only give my perspective and maybe some of hers. For me I’d say the most important part is the man accepting she has the authority. Leadership isn’t all about being right, it’s about inspiring follow-ship naturally and accomplishing shared goals of the individuals under you and for the organization. Goddess Amy does that wonderfully and this is where you could say she understands my kinks (motivation) and pessimistic characteristics (frictions). She has a firm grasps on all things me and has goals for me, expectations for herself, our house, and our family. FLR works well for us because I accept and want her authority and she cares about all of the above to ensure each and everyday we move forward and improve. It’s not like the kink where things are expected to be absolutely perfect. She knows what I can handle and pushes the bubble little by little until it’s “perfect”, I look back and think wow what a difference I never thought this was possible.

Have you heard the phrase “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. If daddy ain’t happy don’t nobody care. “ That phrase sums up FLR. This ties in with communication and roles of FLR. She can easily say be ready we are going out and that means get in nice clothes and get everything ready to go or she can say she’s going out, which means I have the house to myself and if I’m lucky I’ll be given permission to watch TV or play games on my laptop. This ties in with staying on top of the routine she has set for me and other rules like no screentime without the chores being done. Most times I’m fortunate enough to get sceentime when I have the house to myself and sometimes it’s an opportunity for me to address a writing assignment she would like or an addtional chore. Rarely does it include me playing and sending pictures while she is out and about, but either way I’m always responsive and accept what she chooses as I know and believe it has a purpose. I just don’t sometimes fully understand it until later on down the road.

Real-life FLR the man only does what she wants and in ours she has retained meal prep for us and weekday dinners. The weekends I get to grill out and make her meals. Dishes are easy in our house. After a meal we clear the table, some things into rubber ware, some things rinsed in the sink and then into the dishwasher. We have a sign for clean/dirty and the dishwasher gets ran at night once full every couple of days and per my checklist is emptied or check daily.

A big benefit for her is me seeking ways to earn extra privileges ultimately by going out of my way to be on my best behavior, pampering her with love, surprises, and foot rubs. Some days she surprises me with the same to include paid massages and also breakfast in bed.

In public we appear vanilla, with the exception that I may secretly ask permission to have a soda or bend our diet plan a bit with a dessert. I’ve found asking before we go out with friends is better and also she has coded eye brows and looks which convey a silent approval or disapproval as I talk through what I might want when asked.

In addition to not meal prepping every meal since she loves cooking and helping us meet our fitness goals there are a few other things she retains control of. One is laundry, not because she loves it but because only she understands our walk in closet system for her stuff. Every morning I make sure everything is in the hamper and check the dryer- going through and pulling clothes tout of the dryer and separating out her dresses, tops, panties, etc in a way that makes it faster for her to put away herself, along with hanging and putting away all of my clothes neatly. Second the baby’s room there is a fancy rug which gets cleaned a certain way that’s off limits to me. I didn’t ask why and daily just make sure everything is clean and organized. Unlike fantasy FLR you won’t see me begging to do more chores, but you will see me finding areas which I add to my daily to keep off my monthly and deep clean routine to save myself time another day but just maintaining the area better. One example for this is dusting, yes the dreaded dusting. Once despised, I now prefer to address it per room per weekday versus all at once on the weekend. For me it’s less tedious when mixed in with picking up toys, vacuuming, and wiping down surfaces versus a whole hour of it another day.

To end this long discussion one thing that I like most about our FLR is despite me, the man not having final decision is that she gets my feedback 9 times out of 10 before making the final decision. I always feel heard and understood even when I don’t get what I wanted on most big topics, this isn’t the case with little chores or screentime expectations.

#female led marriage #female led relationship #house husband #the way of the househusband

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imagineclaireandjamie · 3 years

Note

Blood calls to blood.

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15

“That’s it, Rab!”

Jamie almost doubled over, breathing heavily, beaming with joy as his six-year-old son pedaled down the road on his bike, wobbling just a bit.

“No training wheels, Da!” Rab shouted, almost not believing it himself.

Jamie took deep, heaving breaths. “Claire!” he croaked. “Where are ye?”

Claire poked her head out of an upstairs window, peering down at her husband and son in the street. “What? Everybody all right?”

“Mama, look!” Just then Rab pedaled back to the house.

“Oh, lovie!” Quickly she darted inside, raced down the stairs, and flew out of the door, almost colliding with Jamie who still clutched to the mailbox to hold himself steady.

Rab absolutely glowed, smiling ear to ear as he pedaled back and forth in front of his parents. “Look, Mama and Da!”

Slowly, carefully, Jamie pulled his phone from his front shirt pocket to take a video of Rab racing up and down the street, giddy with joy.

“Has he fallen yet?” Claire asked, trying to not sound worried.

Jamie shrugged. “He’s a boy. It happens.”

“That’s not exactly comforting - ”

“Have ye had a message from Bree today?” he interrupted uncharacteristically.

Her brow furrowed. “No. Why?”

Jamie held out his phone so that his wife could see the screen. It was a text from Brianna, sent about half an hour previous: I need to see you and Claire tonight. We’re fine. I’ll explain later.

Silently Claire counted to five before responding. “Well I’m worried.”

Jamie watched as Rab ground the bike to a halt at the end of the road, stood up, caught his breath for a bit.

“I hope it isnae the bairn. She’d tell us, aye?”

Brianna and her husband Roger were expecting their first child - Jamie and Claire and John and Isobel’s first grandchild. It had been a surprise - Brianna had become pregnant only about three months after her wedding and six months after starting her new job, and although the two of them were young and early in their respective careers, they loved and cared for each other. And they could provide for a baby - a baby that clearly they both wanted.

Claire nodded. “She would. Same if it was some kind of problem with Roger. I know it’s been stressful, and that they’re still trying to plan for what they’ll do when she goes back to work.”

Jamie tucked his phone back into his pocket and wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulder. “The puir child has four grandparents to care for it, not to mention two decrepit great-uncles who have gladly said they’ll be full-time carers.” That was true - Lamb and his partner Fez had told Brianna as much during the dinner they’d organized to celebrate her pregnancy. With Lamb retired and Fez on sabbatical for the next year - and with Isobel Grey only working part time, and with Jamie himself fully in control of his schedule at the bookstore, this child had an entire network of people to ensure his or her comfort and care.

“I can’t help but worry.” Claire sighed.

Jamie squeezed her shoulder. “You’re her Mam. It’s your job to worry.”

Rab raced his bike down the road again, whizzing past them, hitting a rock, and wiping out in spectacular fashion.

“Thankfully he’s wearing his jeans today,” Claire muttered before racing over to her son, too drunk with joy to feel any pain.

---

“That’s a huge scrape you’ve got there,” Brianna politely observed as her brother showed off his skinned knees.

“Yeah. And I was even wearing pants! Mama said it was a good thing I didn’t wipe out in the dirt.”

Bree smiled, rubbing her six-month-pregnant belly. “That’s certainly true.”

“How old were ye when ye learned to ride a bike?” Jamie spooned up the last of the peas Claire had made to go with the roast chicken and mashed potatos she and Bree had cooked for dinner.

Brianna frowned, thinking. “I think I was about seven. It was the summertime, I remember that. I was wearing shorts, and my legs were covered in bruises and my arms were covered in mosquito bites.”

Rab wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

She laughed. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

Jamie swallowed his last bite and stood, pushing his chair away from the table. “All right, wee Rab. Help me clear the dishes. Bree - you and Claire can sit in the living room if ye like?”

Carefully Bree stood, stretching. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Claire stood too, and took Bree’s hand. Bree squeezed it, and together they retreated to the soft chairs in the room off of the dining room.

For a while they sat next to each other on the couch, not speaking, listening to the low hum of Jamie’s voice speaking quietly to Rab and the clink of dishes and silverware as they washed and dried. Claire wanted Bree to make the first move, but soon enough Bree spoke.

“I had a realization this morning. Well, two, really. And I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Claire nodded. Patient.

Brianna looked down at her lap as she spoke. “The first is...I almost feel terrible for saying this, but I’m glad not just that you’re a doctor, but that you’re my mother, and I can talk to you about being pregnant and all of the weird things about it, because I can’t talk to my Mom about it.”

“Because she was never pregnant,” Claire said softly.

Bree nodded. “I feel terrible even thinking that - she’s the greatest Mom, and she’s known me all of my life, but -”

“But it helps to talk to someone who has experienced it firsthand. I understand.”

“I remember when you were pregnant with Rab - I remember asking you all about it, and learning about it. Because I’d never had that growing up. But it’s all so different now.” She paused. “I feel terrible even saying that about my Mom.”

Gently Claire rubbed the back of her daughter’s hand. “Don’t feel bad. I think she’d understand. And I’m so glad that I can help you, Bree. That this is another thing we can share.”

Bree swallowed, still not looking up at her. Claire felt her daughter’s hands shake with emotion.

“Are you all right, honey? Is everything all right with Roger?”

Bree let out a breath. “Oh, Claire, he’s so wonderful. He takes such good care of me. He’s a goofball and it’s really, really endearing.”

“I’m so glad you have that love in your life. Having a child with the man you love - it’s an incredible experience.”

Inexplicably Bree began to sob. Working from an instinct she couldn’t even begin to name, Claire leaned in to hold her daughter close. Comforting her, sheltering her as she cried and cried and cried.

“What’s wrong?” she crooned softly. “You can tell me anything, lovie.”

Brianna hugged Claire even tighter. “The other thing I realized today,” she whispered, “is that I can’t even begin to imagine my life without this baby in it. And then I realized that that’s exactly what you had to do, with me.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Claire rubbed her back soothingly. “That was different. I was unmarried and alone.”

“But still - I feel such a bond with him already, and I can’t imagine disrupting that. For most of the time before I was born, you knew me - and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep me.”

“Yes. But I made that choice. Jamie and I made that choice together, because it was the best choice we could make for you.”

“I can’t even imagine making that choice.” Bree took a deep, shaky breath. “And it really, really hit me today. I feel like I finally understand. And I want you to know...” Now she pulled back to look at Claire, wiping away the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I want you to know that I love you so much more for what you did for me. Because I don’t know if I’d ever have the strength to do that.”

Tears welled in Claire’s own eyes. “Jamie said something to me, before we left each other in Glasgow, during those few precious weeks we had together when we knew you were coming and before I came back to Boston. He said - love forces a person to choose. You do things you never imagined you could do before.”

Bree smiled tearfully. “He’s right.”

Claire wiped away her tears, and cradled her cheek. “Of course he is. I kept saying that to myself over and over and over before you were born, and after you were born, and after I’d moved to North Carolina.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier today when I texted Jamie. I just - ”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

Just then Rab darted into the room, oblivious to his sister’s tears. “Ice cream for dessert?”

Bree sniffed and looked at her watch. “Roger should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Mind if we wait until then?”

Rab careened out of the room, intent on setting another place at the dining room table.

“Had I not made an adoption plan for you, Bree - I never would have had Rab.”

Bree turned to her mother, incredulous. “Oh my God. You’re right.”

Claire smiled tightly. “So. Everything is worthwhile. You never know the happiness that will come from the sadness.”

Bree squeezed her hands. “My life has become so much happier with you and Jamie in it. And Rab, too.”

Claire’s heart soared. “Oh, lovie. Ours too. Ours too.”

#;mod gotham #adoption au #Anonymous

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winnix85 · 3 years

Text

About Lewis Nixon’s mother Doris Ryer Nixon (Mrs Stanhope Nixon)

Source: mostly from old newspapers and digitized documents (I can’t guarantee the accuracy because they are fragmented information. I will just put it out there for someone may find some interesting useful backstories).

Doris Ryer was born on Oct 1 1894.

Her father Fletcher Ryer was a wealthy pioneer agriculturalist in California. He owned 6,600-acre (27 km2) ranch on Ryer Island, which was named in their honor. Because Doris was his only heiress, this ranch all went to Doris and then to Lewis Nixon III and ultimately to Grace Nixon. It's an agricultural (instead of livestocks) ranch. They grew crops, fruits and vegetables such as wheat, milo, safflower, pears, apples, cherries, grapes, tomatoes and asparagus. They produced such large amount of asparagus that Doris's mother, Mrs Ryer was nicknamed Asparagus Queen back then. This farm is still up and running today, managed by Clarence Hester from 1950s to 1990s (Nix' war buddy, the regimental S3, the one who wrestled with Dick in that photo), after him by his son Thomas Hester.

Doris was educated at Madame Payen's school in Paris from 1906 to 1914 (her entire high school).

Fletcher Ryer died an early death in 1911 (when Doris was about 16). Doris was close to her mother Mrs Blanche Ryer. Mrs Blanche Ryer, though very charming, married very very young. As a pretty, attractive, wealthy widow she determined to ensure that her daughter Doris have a brilliant "bellehood" as a girl. She took Doris to tour around the world. For example, in Sep1913, they traveled to Russia to present Doris at the court of Tsar Nicholas II (Very inconvenient timing, I have to say).

Doris was very sweet and attractive, with pretty black eyes. Her mother has always been most ambitious for her handsome daughter. She aimed to marry Doris to British aristocracy. Doris was presented at Buckingham Palace in 1914, wearing "a white satin princess gown embroidered in pearls and brilliants". Mrs Ryer has had her eye on several members of the British aristocracy for Doris, "but this cruel war, of course, smashed all of her well-laid plans to smithereens." She has to stoop so low to choose from American heirs.

Doris married Stanhope in Jan 1917 in New York at Church of Heavenly Rest. Their wedding was the social event of the year. Guests from coast to coast attended Nixon-Ryer wedding.

The bride's costume was soft white satin, made in combination with pearl embroidered net. She worn a lovely veil, the same that had been worn by her grandmother at her wedding, which was held in place with a band of diamonds. Her only other ornament was a necklace of diamonds with a large pear-shaped diamond pendant, the gift of the bridegroom.

Because the father of bride has died, she was given away by governor of New York Charles S. Whitman. Among those in attendance were the Brazilian ambassador and Argentine ambassador.

After the wedding the new couple went to Bermuda for honeymoon and then they lived at 52 East Fifty-second Street NYC (but later moved to 46 East 65 Street). In 1920 census, the household of the new couple included Stanhope the head of the house, Doris the wife, Lewis the one and half yr old old baby son, and a butler and 3 maids. They also have a suburb house at 167 Grange Ave, New Jersey (a 20-room estate, equiped with oil burning hot water heat, a 4-car garage, servants quarters, a boat house and a stable).

After marrying off her daughter to the Nixons, Mrs Blanche Ryer re-married in 1920 to Clifford Erskine-Bolst, a British conservative party politician. Mr Erskine-Bolst was elected to the British House of Commons in 1923 and again in 1931. To help him win the election, she made generous donations to King George's Hospital in England. She campained hard for him, making speeches and appealing to the constituency in the South Hackney district.

In 1920s, mama Doris bought a villa at Riviera France from the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She lived there until her death in 1939 (This villa went to Nix. But he didn't like living there, too much hassle to open the house. He prefered to stay at the hotel Cap Estel. In 1950s he leased it to the Kennedys).

Doris and Stanhope seemed to be ok in 1920s. They attended social events together and traveled to England together. After Lew, they had a baby boy in 1922 (who tragically died in 3 months. Doris' mother went to New York to be with her.) Then they had Blanche Nixon in Aug 1924 (also born in NYC). While living in NYC, it seems little Lew was often spending time with his grandfather. Grandpa often took him to play at central park. For example, he took Lew to that model yacht regatta in central park when he was 7, and to skate in central park in Jan 1927 when lew was 8. In 1927, Doris took 2 yr old Blanche to France to visit her mother, but she didn't take Lew (maybe he was too naughty?). Anyway, Doris took Blanche to see grandma almost every year but Lew was only with them on one visit when he was 10 yr old.

Doris appeared to be lonely and out of place in the social circle of New York. Here is a social note about her in 1929: "A remarkable girl with her embroidery frame, actually engaged in a simple, normal occupation in a land where the atmosphere is charged with hang-overs, gambling-losses and mistrust. Nobody around here looks twice at a woman with mauve hair like Madame de Roch, or at a man with ear-rings and a bracelet on his ankle. But let a girl take out a half-finished centerpiece and commence embroidering and every lorgnette in the crowd is whipped into place."

At the end of 1920s, Doris seemed to be so unhappy to live on the east coast anymore, and she still regarded CA to be her real home. Stanhope sold their house in New Jersey and bought a new house in Montecito (also a mansion with a large stable and everything). In the 1930 census they were living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (Stanhope, Doris, Lewis (11yr), Blanche(5yr), and a French governess, and 2 servants). Lew attended boarding school at Cate School in Santa Barbara.

In social notes in 1930s, Stanhope and Doris mainly attended social events in CA (Santa Barbara and San Francisco), they also travel to New York to visit Mr and Mrs Lewis Nixon Sr.. The family traveled a lot, not only back and forth between east-west coasts, but also trips abroad. Doris always took Blanche with her, but Lew traveled on his own even when he was as young as 15 yr old. It appears that Doris and Stanhope's relationship has gone sour in 1930s. For example, in this 1934 social note: "The Stanhope Nixons will spend the Christmas holidays with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. Mr Nixon will return to California on Jan 1, and Mrs Nixon will sail for Europe to spend six months on the Riviera with her mother." (almost as if Doris was running away from Stanhope and hide in France after briefly met him on Xmas day. Meanwhile 15 yr old Lew was at boarding school in CA).

In 1940 census, Doris and Blanche were still living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (with a housekeeper, a cook and a maid). Stanhope was no longer in this household. Maybe they have separated. Lew was also not in this household for he has left for college.

Among the CA high society, Doris was a all-around likable person: "Doris is always bubbling over with enthusiasm, her joy of living and her wit making her a welcome guest at any affair". She was very enthusiastic about opera (and art events in general, such as oriental dance). She attended the openning of Opera Season at San Francisco every year (usually with Blanche, and she will grab Lew when she can catch him). In 1940, she offered a prize for the "Best one act play" to stimulate interest in the Lobero Theater of Santa Barbara. She also went to see excellent plays in New York when it's in season and made some witty comments about the remarkable fashion trends in New York: "The only lavender and old lace that you see today is on the individual--the lavender in the tinted hair, and the lace on the dainty unmentionables."

After the Pearl Harbor Attack, Doris turned from a socialite to a civic leader. In 1942 she became the national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services (AWVS) (and during ww2). The AWVS recruited and trained women to harvest crops, do nurse works, driving trucks and sell war bonds. She encouraged women to show more interest in international affairs. She also founded Guide Dogs for the Blind in 1943 (primarily to help the blinded veterans) and she made generous donations. In addition, she was the state commander of the California Cancer Society.

The AWVS duties kept her so busy, she has to relinquish her box at the opera house. She only had long enough time to have a toasted chicken sandwich for lunch. She put generous amount of English mustard on her sandwich. When her friends cautioned her not to put too much, she said:"If it puts me out, I will be a most excellent subject for the first aid class I am about to attend, and we will all find out how much we know!"

In the summer of 1945, Doris and Stanhope finally divorced (Stanhope even filed counter-suits seeking divorce on the grounds of desertion). They divorced in August, and Stanhope married "the Blond" in September 1945.

In June 1948, Doris died at home (944 Chestnut Str San Francisco CA). She had a stroke (and she always had hypertention). It seems her death was an unexpected sudden death because one month before she was still traveling around France with her daughter Blanche. Her will dictated to split her legacy equally between Blanche and Lew. She also left generous amount of money to employees such as housekeeper, secretary. For a former maid, she gave her $225 monthly for life.

#doris ryer nixon #Doris Ryer #Mrs Stanhope Nixon #She was a wonderful person #Generous kind and funny #lewis nixon #band of brothers

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wajjs · 4 years

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Can we have some fluff between Jason and Damian? like, brother relationship or even father/mother (if Omega!jason is your thing)- son relationship? hurt/comfort is fine as long as there is no bad ending pleeeeaaaasseee?

omegaverse, omega!Jay

If my colors all run dry

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And, are you gonna stay the night?

(I'm being' followed by a moonshadow)

The bundle in his arms squirms twice before settling down again. He looks down and smiles a little at the sight, feels something in him grow loose, calm, like the air when the storm finally leaves, giving room to clear skies. The two seats by his right side are empty, and he knows they will remain that way throughout the entirety of the trip. He recognizes the flight attendants from where he and the bundle come from. Their familiar faces ease a bit the wave of trepidation trying to take over his thoughts again.

Until not too long ago, he’d been traveling all over the world for much different reasons: training, perfectioning himself and his abilities, getting his hands dirty with blood and gore. He had been taking the world by the storm, making a name and a path for himself, with his own hands and with a new set of rules. He had felt great, so great, even if through it all there had been disillusion, heartbreak and an oozing anger threatening to tint everything green. Then, then…

A soft cry saves him from getting too lost in thought. Rearranging his hold a bit, he easily keeps the bundle safe in one arm while he moves the cloth enough to the side to uncover more of the baby’s face. There’s a frown on the tiny features, eyes half open half squeezed shut. He smiles a little at the sight, leans down and closer to press a wet kiss to the baby's plump cheek. Pearly giggles quickly follow.

A baby that's his, undeniably so with his soft, full chest, with how he still feels empty inside his belly, with how he's yet to finish losing some of the tenderness of his bump. A baby that's his and that is perfect, even when he never went looking for one, even when it made him change his plans, his life, his vision, throwing a wrench into most of everything he had decided he'd do.

It's not that he saw the baby and immediately knew he felt love. No, it's more than anything his reluctance to fail someone who depends on him so, to make this baby a remix of his own story, to fail life so tremendously he'd lose his humanity. After all that and his determination to make things right, after all of that came the loving. That is the easiest part of all.

He walks into the small, lived in and run down apartment, sleeping baby strapped to his chest, and zeroes in on the letter he finds awaiting him on the coffee table. The furniture is new, though not flashy, and a quick check of every room and every cabinet lets him know he's not going to be in need of anything any time soon. So he can go back to the living room by the entrance that also doubles as dining room, and he feels mildly at rest when he sits on the couch and picks up the white envelope.

Dearest, it reads on the back of it. The baby shifts a little in his hold and he presses his lips to the crown of the little head, whispering calming shushes. He opens the missive with one hand.

Everything's been arranged to ensure your security. You won't be in need of money. I'll try to visit whenever it's safe.

Father's reach cannot harm you here. I'll make sure of that. Take good care, dearest, of yourself and the new life.

Should anything arise, you will be able to contact me through the usual means.

He smiles, then, brings the baby closer to himself.

"See this, Dami?," he says tenderly, nuzzling the soft hairs, "your mommy loves you. I'll never let you forget."

Damian learns to walk gracefully, so swiftly that after two steps he proceeds to master running. He's bright, and happy, and innocent - a life he wouldn't have had if Ra's had ever heard of him. But he's well protected here. He's warm, looked after and, most important of all, he's loved.

So Damian learns to walk. From dada to mama, he walks back and forth and laughs a pearlescent laughter, making the world laugh along with him.

"My dearest," she tells him with Damian in their arms, perfectly protected between them, "I couldn't be any more proud. You're much of a better parent than most."

He laughs a little, feeling the tip of his ears go red, and this by no means contradicts the fact that they are both deadly and precise when it counts. Knowing many ways to kill a person doesn't mean they don't feel love of any kind, or that they can't share it.

"You are as well, you know," he whispers and gets all warm and giddy with the way her eyes sparkle, "neither of us would be where we are now without you."

"All you ever needed was a chance. The rest? It was all you. All your doing."

It's easy for them to lay low and not get any attention hiding out in the open, away from the lights and glamour of Gotham's upper class districts. Here, he is just like all the other omegas who had a child without a steady partner - well, he lets everyone believe that. He certainly knows how to play the part.

And maybe he could've kept the ruse up for longer, much longer, if it wasn't almost 4a.m. and if he weren't still up, worrying so much his guts are tied up in knots. Damian's fever won't come down. It's too high to be manageable, he's done everything he could think of and yet-

He sings softly, lullabies he half remembers, strokes his baby's cheek, kisses his little forehead. Damian doesn't even have any strength left to cry. So he finally decides to do it, moves quickly, packs a duffel bag with all he might need. Wrapping Damian in clean blankets, holding him securely against his chest, he rushes to Gotham General. It's a risk but for his baby he will risk it all. He's not going to lay idle while Damian's sick.

The drive is relatively short, luckily, and it goes by like a blur. Before he knows it, he's walking into the emergency room with barely enough presence of mind to remember he's here with a new identity, one carefully crafted by Dami's mama. His heart keeps leaping to his throat. He's reeking of distress and worry and anxiousness but there's a doctor in front of him, guiding him and letting him have Damian in his arms for a second more before a nurse asks him to hand his baby over.

He doesn't cry when he does, yet he can't deny the tears are all clogged up in his eyelashes. That's his baby right there. His baby. His-

It's unclear how much he waits. He knows he does. He sits very still, barely breathing, and keeps his eyes focused on the strap of the bag he's got wrapped around his hand. Waiting for news. Waiting. Thinking. Wondering.

How big of a world can Gotham be?

Surely not a big enough one.

Because the only moment he lifts his eyes from his hand is to meet the gaze of someone he used to know very well. Someone he used to fight alongside with. Think of in terms of greatness. Until it all blew up. And time stands still for them, though it's only a second. One that is broken by the nurse from before coming to find him, take him to Damian, and she says:

"Your baby will be just fine."

And he knows the confused shout of Jason? that trails after his steps as he follows the nurse isn't an auditory illusion. But right now he finds that he doesn't care.

His baby, Damian, is going to be fine and that is what's important.

#blob writes #omegaverse #omega jason todd #jason todd #talia al ghul #this is pre ot3 aka pre taliabrujay #blob's prompt party

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crimsonheart01 · 4 years

Text

Set the Pace (Coco x OC/Reader)

A/N: Needed an escape today. Have some cute and sexy Coco all rolled into one. This has everything? Romance, fluff, angst, smut. Word Count: 10,612 Playlist: Body High - Alicia Moffat Warning: Fluffy smut. Is this a thing? I feel like it’s a thing! Swearing but that’s probably a given in all my works! Oh, and a small moment of being rough with a hangaround.

She pulled up into the desolate driveway. She chuckled to herself, nothing ever changed with him. There was junk all around the place and a pristine Harley sitting amoung it all. The only thing he ever took care of. She grinned, recalling the baby-faced man when he started prospecting.

She killed the engine, grabbed her duffel and hopped out of her car. She skipped up the steps and up onto her tiptoes to rummage in the eavestrough. Her fingers connected with the cool metal of the spare key and she pulled it out, using it to let herself inside.

As she kicked the door closed behind her, she was met with the overwhelming bachelor mustiness and scoffed. He needed to open a window, or several. She laughed and called out into the house, “You got any food in this place? The long drive through the night has me famished.”

There was no answer, but she picked up the sounds of water running and figured he was in the shower. She dropped the spare key onto the counter, followed by her bag. She spotted the kutte hanging folded over the back of the couch. He was definitely home. He never went anywhere with out the leather. She turned into the kitchen and immediately went for the snack cupboard. The one where she knew he kept the goods.

~(MMC)~

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, quickly drying off. He grabbed his jeans, pulling them up over his boxers and when he went to grab his vest, he heard the noises coming from out in the main area. He narrowed his eyes, flipping his hair back and out of his face. He dropped his vest back down, draping it over the sink and stepped towards the door.

He opened it slightly, ensuring that the latch didn’t make a sound as he opened it. He pressed his ear to the opening and listened intently. He knew that Angel wasn’t home. He was at the yard this morning. On duty. It couldn’t be EZ, he didn’t have a key and Gilly was over at Vicky’s. Which begged the question as to who was currently inside? He swore internally to himself for letting his guard down and leaving his kutte in the living room. That’s where his piece was sitting.

He adjusted his pants, slipping around the ajar door, and padded out into the hall. He lined his back against the wall and peered around it, surveying the living room and kitchen. He spotted someone in the kitchen, crouched down and took his chance. He darted out into the living room and reached into his kutte. Grabbing his gun, he cocked it and flicked off the safety. He straightened out and stepped through into the kitchen.

He noted the duffel bag sitting on the floor and the spare key on the counter. He looked down to see where the intruder was reaching into the back of one cupboard. He trained his hands and kept his stance steady. Waiting for her to pop back up. He narrowed his eyes, half a dozen thoughts crossing his mind, mainly why Angel never mentioned another woman.

He watched as she rocked back on her heels, a box of cereal in her hand and opened it with her back to him.

~(MMC)~

She stood up and poured a handful of Cheerios into her mouth. She spun around and went to put her hand behind her, an aide to help her sit on the counter when she was startled by the person standing there but more so the fact that she was being held at gunpoint. She shrieked and clutched at the box. The packaging crinkling under her grip.

“Who the fuck are you?” She yelled, her voice jumping up an octave in fear.

She kept her eyes trained on him. Noting that he definitely wasn’t Angel. Who’s house they were currently in. She had no idea who this man was. She figured if anyone was going to be in this house it would’ve been one of the Reyes brothers. Not this random.

He didn’t offer any kind of expression change at her question, nor at her scream and that irked her. He didn’t even flinch. All he did was stand his ground and glare at her. Her heart pumped erratically, suddenly terrified. Had she entered the wrong house? No, that was insane. The spare key was in the same place it always had been. Ever since he bought the damn place. All the furniture was the same. There was nothing different about his house

She took a deep breath, irritated at the hitched sound it made. She licked her lips and swallowed. She slowly let go of her grip on the box, flinching as it crinkled loudly in the silence between them.

“You’re not Angel.” She said. Point blank.

This did illicit a response. He shook his head, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She exhaled. That was something. At least they both knew Angel. That helped. Maybe.

“He knows I’m here.” She started, “Or well, that I’m coming.”

She waited for a response, but none came. Her panic and terror was starting to hit a high and she needed whoever this man was to lower the gun. She needed him to understand that she was ok to be here. Without him shooting her first. Or at all, preferably. She made deliberate and slow movements, trying to keep her rationale in place as she addressed him.

She lowered the box, placing it on the counter behind her. She held her hands back up in surrender and then pointed to her back pocket, “I’m going to reach for my phone.” She talked him through her movements. He remained a statue as she dipped her hand into her back pocket to produce her phone. She unlocked it, opened her recent messages with Angel and held it out to him.

“Check the number with yours. It’s Angel.”

~(MMC)~

He took the offered phone but kept the gun trained on her. He opened up the contact information, reading the number a few times. Nodding, it was Angel’s. He skimmed through the messages between them and noted that Angel knew she was coming. Offered up the house to her for as long as she needed it. He flipped the phone around and handed it back to her. Then lowered the gun.

He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and gave her a half-hearted shrug by way of an apology. He didn’t know what to say her specifically. He had virtually no idea who she was. Only that Angel knew her. In some capacity. He briefly wondered if he’d been fucking another woman. Maybe Adelita wasn’t the only one he was getting around with. That wasn’t something he needed to think about. It wasn’t his business, as long as whoever his brother fucked wasn’t about to ruin the club, he was free to do what he wanted.

His eyes were caught by her movement as she pocketed her phone and he followed the curve of her hips all the way up her torso and then to her face. He hadn’t meant to check her out, but he couldn’t deny that she was hot. He’d been staring at her for a while. Since he first stepped into the kitchen. He was bound to notice her looks. When his gaze met hers, she was staring at him with her eyebrows raised. She’d obviously noticed his perusal. She tilted her head to the side, minutely and arched one eyebrow.

He winced internally, waiting for her attack. He found he wasn’t that great with women when they weren’t hangarounds. The club women were easy to deal with. They didn’t care about his lack of conversational skills. They only cared about the patch, and his status. They were there to provide him with a service, hoping he’d slip up and either gain another baby mama, or take one on as his vieja. Which, neither was going to happen. He’d learned his lesson from the 3 kids he already had and wasn’t interested in taking on a hangaround in an official capacity.

Instead of a confrontation, he watched her grab the abandoned cereal box, grab another handful for herself and then offer it out to him. She held her closed fist above her mouth and gave him a weird half smile. He realized he scared her but she was trying to work through that and be friendly.

“Want some?” She asked.

~(MMC)~

She’d been sleeping on Angel’s couch for more than a week now. Her neck was killing her but it was better than the backseat of her car. She flipped over onto her front, burying her head into her pillow. Groaning as she rolled a few kinks out. Her biggest problem though was the fact that she’d been dreaming about the Mayan she met on her first day back. Coco. She couldn’t shake the way he checked her out. Nor the silent exterior. There was something about him. Something that called out to her.

“Prima?” Angel called out from his bedroom, pulling her from her thoughts.

He walked through to the living room and leaning over the couch to grin down at her. He reached out and ruffled her hair while she grumbled, slapping his hand away. He let out a laugh but pulled his hand back and crossed both his arms over the head of the couch. She rolled over onto her back and peered up at him, her eyes still tired.

“Why are you up this early?” She questioned.

He shrugged, “Club business.”

She scoffed and swatted at him with a roll of her eyes. She knew he was lying. He was on yard duty today. Nothing about that had to do with the club.

“EZ said he wants to see you.” He mentioned, “Y’know, before you skip town again.”

Angel widened his eyes at that comment, giving her that knowing look. She shook her head, an amused smile on her mouth.

“I’m not skipping anything.” She said, “Maybe you should tell him to call me himself. He has my number. When did you turn into the messenger for baby brother Ezekiel?”

Angel rolled his eyes at her, “He hasn’t seen you, or talked to you, since he got out. Give him a break. He probably feels like you’re pissed at him.”

She closed her eyes in subtle annoyance. These two were the worst. The biggest babies.

“I’m not mad at anyone. He should’ve told me though. Whether or not if he knew you did.” She opened her eyes and met Angel’s gaze, “I don’t wanna be here longer than necessary. I’m just here to clear out that house and sell it. Nothing more.”

Angel feigned hurt but she knew he understood. Santo held nothing for her. No family, no friends, no prospects. Well, aside from him and EZ that was. They’d always be her oldest and dearest friends. The original trio. Angel stood back up and slipped on his kutte, rounding to the front of the couch and purposely draped himself over her to give her a hug.

“Angel!” She laughed; her voice muffled by his shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter. Giving her one of those annoyingly, comforting, big brother like hugs. She enjoyed it. Something she hadn’t felt in too long. She hadn’t bothered to make deep friendships with anyone out her way. She had all she needed in Angel, and EZ too. Now that he was out. She sighed and wiggled around until she could return the embrace and he sat up, pulling her with him.

“We missed you.” He murmured.

She smiled into his shoulder, “I know. I’m only up in San Jose. Take a road trip up my way some time.”

He chuckled and let go of her, standing back up, “Listen, there’s a party tonight. You should come.”

She screwed her face up at that. Club parties weren’t really her thing. She’d been ditched by Angel one too many times at them. There wasn’t much for her to do there. Aside from EZ and Angel, she didn’t know any of the other MC members. He seemed to sense her hesitation, looking down at her with understanding eyes. He gave her his little half smile. The one that he used in lieu of puppy dog eyes. She sighed and started to shake her head.

He held up a hand to stop her, “C’mon. EZ’s prospecting. He has to be on his toes all night, so he’ll be around for extra company.”

She groaned, throwing herself back down and tugging her flimsy sheet up around her shoulders. She glared up at Angel before flipping over, fixing her pillow dramatically and snuggled back into her makeshift bed. She closed her eyes but smirked as she did.

“Fine.” She agreed, “I’ll come, but mark my words Reyes, if you ditch me again, you’ll regret it.”

She peeked up at him out of one eye, in time to catch the wide smile. “Gracias prima! You still remember where the yard is?” When she nodded, he grinned at her, “Good, see you around 9?”

He turned and was heading out the door, knowing that she’d be there. She planned to get her fill of the boys before heading back home. She missed them. It’d been too long since she’d actually see them. Video chats and texts weren’t the same. Having their presence around was a different feeling altogether. It occasionally made her think about moving back but that was a pipe dream.

She checked the time on her phone and groaned. There was no way she’d get back to sleep now. She rolled off the couch and immediately went to the bathroom to turn the shower on. As she got ready for the day, the small thought that she’d be able to see Coco again kept popping up. One more person she’d sort of know at the Mayans party.

~(MMC)~

He’d kept himself scarce during the last week. Staying away from Angel’s and keeping to being at the yard. He didn’t have a read on the girl staying there nor how she knew Angel. It was best for him to keep his distance. Besides, they hadn’t exchanged much besides names before he was hightailing out of Angel’s place. He was good at sweet talking, he wasn’t good at normal conversation. At least not with women. Especially ones where he was trying to trying to figure out if they were sleeping together or not. He felt guilty for thinking about her, not knowing whether her and Angel were a thing.

He eventually asked Angel about her. Got a general overview. Old friend from the block. Neighbours. They grew up together on the same street. She left after high school and settled down somewhere up north. It explained why Angel never mentioned her before. He wasn’t in the practice of announcing all the private conversations he had on a daily basis. He learned that she was here to sell her parents old place. The house across from where Felipe still lived.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he was relieved when he discovered that there was nothing going on between Angel and her. The way Angel spoke about her was if she was his sister, or another family member. He still hadn’t figured out her deal with EZ, but he hoped it was the same. Considering boy scout was still hung up on Mrs. Galindo, he figured there was nothing there either. He sipped his beer, not that he’d ever act on any of these initial inklings he was having. He didn’t even know where to start.

He reclined in the metal chair, a beer in hand and was laughing at something dumb Gilly had said to one of the hangarounds. He shook his head. The party was in full swing and he was glad for the chance to relax with his brothers. After the constant back and forth, he was grateful for this time. He felt a body come up to him and without much ado, he allowed the hangaround to settle herself in his lap. He didn’t pay her too much mind, but that wasn’t any different than any other day. He picked up a light conversation with Gilly, laughing with him when his eyes zeroed in on a new car pulling up.

His hackles raised, always prepared for the worst and he shooed the hangaround off him. He sat forward, keeping a whether eye on the newcomer, his free hand reaching into his kutte. He was dumbfounded when he watched her appear from behind the front door of the car. He lowered his hand back into his lap but continued leaning forward to watch her.

He watched as she scanned the compound, a small smile growing in her face. It lit her features, whether she noticed it or not. It was the smallest change, but it made the biggest difference. She slammed her car door shut and then leaned against the hood for a moment. She was looking for someone. It didn’t take long for her to find Angel and Coco watched as she pushed off the car and called out to him.

He heard the distinct word she used. Primo. It settled the sudden lick of jealousy he felt and clamped down on. He shouldn’t be relieved by the term. It shouldn’t mean anything to him. He had no claim. She barely even knew his name. He settled back in his chair when she reached Angel, gulping down the acid growing in his throat as Angel’s arm slid over her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. Coco looked away, staring at the fire pit in front of him and downing half his beer in one go.

~(MMC)~

She sat on the steps, a bottle hanging between her fingers and watched the party go on around her. She smiled. She hadn’t felt this at ease in a while. She didn’t have these types of social interactions where she lived now. She had a few acquaintances she’d meet up for drinks with, but it wasn’t the same kind of camaraderie she felt here. It wasn’t all bad though. She had a core group. She wasn’t lonely. She just hadn’t taken the time to get as involved in new friendships.

She’d spent the majority of her night at Angel’s side. He kept good on his promise not to ditch her. That was until one of the club women made it known she wanted his attention. Leaving him to his fun, she found herself sitting on the steps of the clubhouse. She’d been introduced to everyone, officially as the Reyes’ brother’s cousin. It wasn’t wholly wrong. Chosen family and all that.

It didn’t take long for her to feel eyes on her though. Throughout the night she caught small glimpses of the quiet Mayan. Coco. The one she ran into at Angel’s. She still shivered at how cold he was until he figured out she wasn’t a threat, but it bode well for his character. In a strange sort of way. She didn’t fault him for the incident. He was protecting himself and potentially his brothers. She didn’t like that he held a gun up to her, but she understood his initial response.

Each time she glanced over at him; he was alone. No hangarounds draped all over him. Only conversation between him and his brothers. Or at least she assumed. She caught his mouth moving occasionally and the responses from the Mayans around him made her think they were speaking. She was never close enough to hear though. She never let her eyes rest long on him. Not wanting to draw his attention away from whatever he was focused on. However, he made her curious. Curious about him. Who he was.

She was pulled from her thoughts as EZ’s boots scuffed the step next to her leg. He dropped down to sit next to her, tilting a cold beer in her direction. She chugged down the dregs of her current bottle before taking the new one from him. He chuckled at her, grabbing her discarded bottle and setting the empty behind them.

She looked over at him, “Sooooo, prospect?”

He grinned, breaking into comfortable laughter and knocked her shoulder with his. She never thought she’d see the day that the studious Ezekiel Reyes would be prospecting for a motorcycle club. It never seemed to be his deal. Much more Angel’s lane. Not in a bad way. They were extreme opposites of one another, but perfectly so. It was one of her favourite things about the Reyes brothers. Their differences but how they complimented each other’s personalities. Angel always getting in trouble and EZ always managing to use his book smarts to get them both out of it.

“Not going to lie, I think I’m coming around to the whole leather aesthetic.” She smirked, “Between you and your brother, I’m getting it from all sides.”

EZ shrugged, and inclined his head in one direction subtly, “You might even be getting it from that angle too.”

She followed his incline and her eyes flicked over multiple people until her gaze met another one. His dark eyes were trained on her. That intense, hyper focus. All for her. She tilted her head to the side, meeting his stare head on. This was the first time they’d caught each other looking. She thought back on the one prior meeting they had. He hadn’t said much to her that day. A lot of nods, shrugs and half spoken words. It intrigued her. In an odd way. Made her wonder what it would take to make him talkative. Right now, however, he didn’t have a small gesture. He just stared. A subdued heat in his gaze. She wondered for what. For her? No. That was a wild thought.

“Is he always that quiet?” She asked EZ, still watching Coco.

His gaze never wavered from her and she felt a shiver forming. She licked the front of her teeth before taking another sip of her beer. She recalled the way he looked when she first met him. Shirtless. Covered in tattoos. His hair sopping wet but the slight wave forming near the ends. She wouldn’t lie to herself. He was good-looking. No, it was more than that. She was attracted to him. She found him hotter than most of the men she’d dated in the past. She chuckled internally to herself at that realization. She watched his mouth move, as he spoke with someone. She didn’t bother to try and see who, because if he was going to keep up this staring contest, she was game.

His tongue darted out along his lower lip before he brought the cigarette up to his mouth. He continued to speak around it. She watched each one of the muscles in his face contract and release as he spoke. She could almost hear his words from here. It was mesmerizing. Everything about him subtle. Striking, and calculated. Dangerous. Every move he made had a detailed thought process. She could tell by the way he carried himself. She admired the outline of his jaw. The crooked nature of his nose adding to his appeal. She liked him. She didn’t know him, at all. But she still liked him. Especially that hyper focus thing he had going. It made her feel seen. Read. In a strange sort of way.

EZ nodded in response to her and she caught the movement from the corner of her eye, “Yeah. He’s a bit odd around new people. Women especially.”

She laughed, turning briefly to shake her head at EZ, “That’s not exactly something a girl wants to hear.”

“He interested in you, or at least thinks you’re hot. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t care enough to pay any mind to you. He’ll never start the conversation though.” EZ said, “Go over there, get him to talk. Don’t even bother playing dumb. I’ve seen you watching as much as he’s been with you.”

She pushed EZ lightly, letting out a huff of disbelief, “Are you wingmaning him? You know he held me at gunpoint the first time we met?”

EZ burst into laughter, “Yeah, that sounds like Coco.” He took a moment to cool off before breathing in and continuing, “Like I said. He has a hard time warming up to new people.”

She shook her head. A wide grin on her mouth and laughing. She turned her hands out and sighed, “Great, that really gives me something to start with.”

EZ smirked at her sarcasm but raised his shoulders as if to say ‘why not?’. She rolled her eyes at him but placed her hand on his shoulder and used it as a support to hoist herself back up. She took the cold beer he had yet to open from him and walked down the steps. She spun around and stuck her tongue out at EZ as he winked at her.

She walked over to the table where Coco was sitting and dropped down into the empty seat across from him. She popped off the cap and slid the bottle across the table to sit in front of him. She looked around at the others at the table, but they all seemed otherwise occupied, so she directed all her attention on him.

“I figured you could use a refill.” She smiled at him.

~(MMC)~

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, she gravitated into his personal space. She was sitting next him, her body leaned beside his. It wasn’t in a flirtatious way. She was barely even touching him. Not like how the hangarounds approached him. It was relaxed. They were both watching the argument across the compound unfold. It wouldn’t be a Mayans party without someone getting into the ring. She was adding tiny little quips. Outlandish and hilarious one-liners.

He couldn’t help it. He was smiling. A genuine one. Not just the smirk. He watched her profile as she spoke. His eyes tracking the way her hands moved with every sentence. She was expressive in the way she spoke. Everything had emotion, passion. It was intense and he enjoyed that. What he liked the most was the way she wasn’t trying to impress him. All she was interested in doing was spending time with him. Being there. Being present. He honestly couldn’t remember when the last time anyone tried to befriend him for him. Aside from his hermanos.

She gave him the space he felt comfortable with. She never pushed anything out of him. She was patient and when he couldn’t find the words, she kept the conversation flowing. His chest rumbled with quiet laughter at her latest remark and she turned her head, hearing the sound. She stared at him; her eyes wide at his reaction. When she took in his smile and laid back posture she grinned widely at him. She gave him a wink before going back to the scene before them, continuing with her commentary.

He took a chance. He figured they were on the same page. Nevertheless, his heart still beat wildly in his chest. This wasn’t one of Vicky’s girls, or the hangarounds. She could easily turn him down. It was a terrifying reality. One he knew he wouldn’t handle well. The rejection. Either way, he swallowed and tried anyways. Propping his elbows on the table behind him, he inched one arm across the top of it and lined it behind her back. He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and she still hadn’t noticed.

He took in a silent but deep breath. Taking his time. Smoothing his arm across her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. She startled as he did it, flicking her eyes to his hand resting on her arm and then back up to him. He let his mouth curl into a grin, and she bit down on her lower lip. She shook her head, amused at his coy expression. She shifted her shoulders, lining her back into his front, getting comfortable.

He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, “Knew you’d warm up to me eventually.”

She threw her head back into his shoulder, laughing loudly. Both of them knowing it was exactly the opposite. He saw the affection in her expression as she turned towards him. She found him funny. She was sincerely laughing. His arm tightened around her, her excited energy lifting him up. He pulled her in tighter, his lips grazing her temple as he laughed with her.

~(MMC)~

With the help of the Reyes brothers and their lovely friends, the MC, they had her old house gutted, the important bits packed into a moving trailer and sold. She left after that. Making her way back up to San Jose to pack away the keepsakes. She kept up her regular contact with the brothers, adding one more to the rotation.

Her and Coco talked nearly every day. Even if it was just a quick ‘how you doing?’ and nothing more. She had no idea when it happened. It sort of just came to be. On its own. Neither of them planned for it. Nor did either of them push for something to happen. From exchanging numbers after that one club party. Texting led to calling and calling led to video chats. Which led to all-nighters. She hung on his every message, or call. Expecting them daily now.

After a couple of months, it became clear to both of them, that they hadn’t told Angel or EZ that they were talking to each other. Neither of them could agree why they did it. Only that they kept quiet because the other one still hadn’t mentioned anything. It was maybe the very first argument they had. Maybe even the only one.

Coco hated confrontation and she respected that. Whenever they got heated, which was often, they agreed to say goodbye before they got mad at one another. They always promised to come back to it when they’d cooled off. It worked pretty well. Gave Coco the time to think through what he was trying to convey and it gave her the time to calm down. Reevaluate what she was actually angry about and focus on explaining her point of view.

It was hard to define what their relationship was. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t really anything. Only two people in constant contact. She felt something for him, however she wasn’t sure it was real or not. They only ever spoke over the phone, aside from the one night in Santo Padre. That was the last time she saw him in person. The last time she felt his touch. She tried to reign in her own feelings. Not wanting to scare him away. She enjoyed their friendship, even if that’s all it stayed at.

They’d been talking to each other for a little over a year when he surprised her. She pulled into her driveway after work and spotted the Harley immediately. At first, she thought it was Angel, or even EZ, but when she looked up at her front porch, there he was. Sitting on the top step. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he watched her park. Her heart raced at his sudden appearance and she tackled him, much to his surprise.

She couldn’t explain the reaction, or well she could but wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Not to him. They were friends. She wasn’t going to ruin that by dumping her feelings all over and making things messy. He laughed, her body pressing him down into her porch as she clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed back. He forgot what it felt like to have her in his arms. Suddenly she was popping up, both her hands anchored on his biceps.

“Is everything ok?” Her brow was furrowed in concern as she asked.

He smiled at the worry and nodded his head to reassure her, “Everything’s fine, linda.”

She let out a sigh of relief and dragged him up and into her house. She whirled through the kitchen, getting them something to drink and pushing him down to sit on her couch. She began regaling him with the mundane ins and outs of her day. He sat through the whole tirade. Leaning against the back of her couch, one arm spread along the top as he smiled over at her. His legs were extended out in front of him, and she looked at him sitting there. In her living room. Like he belonged there.

Her heart palpitated at that thought. That he belonged with her. She hid the shiver that ran down her spine and laughed at the way he waved his hand as if to tell her she could continue with her monologue. She rolled her eyes playfully and swatted at him. Pretending to be annoyed by his coy gesture. She picked up on her speech, telling him everything. Her entire being filled with giddiness. She was gushing. Excited and happy that he was here. She missed him. It was like she was trying to make up for all the details she left out on their phone calls. She continued to talk, waving her hands around as she did.

At some point, when she’d gone off on a mini rant about something that irritated her, he stood up. She was pacing back and forth in front of the couch and when she turned back to continue in the other direction, he stopped her. He was staring down at her, his eyes dark and raw. She gulped; her own feelings being reflected back at her through his gaze. He framed his outstretched hand against the right side of her cheek and face. She shuddered obviously as he bowed his head towards hers. Her teeth pulling her bottom lip between them. He stared at the indentation her teeth were making in her lip and darted his gaze up to hers, looking for her approval. She gave him an encouraging smile and he dove in.

It was tentative at first. Both of them scared of the result. This was a moment where they could ruin everything. Her nerve endings exploded as his mouth caught hers. She reciprocated slowly, at first. Before pushing hard, tilting her head and giving him opened mouth kisses. Their tongues meeting and teasing each other. Her hands slid up his torso, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt as their embrace heated. She threw all caution to the wind. She wanted him. He wanted her. She broke away from him, grabbed the hem of her shirt and ripped it over her head.

“Fuck.” He swore, as she stood in front of him in her bra.

She had no idea how long he was here for. She knew the drive was long. She’d done it herself. If he was only here for tonight, then she wasn’t going to waste any time. She wasn’t going to let her self-doubt get in her way. He was here. For her. Alone. He seemed to be on the same course of thought because he was suddenly dragging her forward into him. His lips capturing her again, in another intense kiss.

Her hands dipped under the kutte, dropping it away from his shoulders and he caught it. Folding it half, he tossed it behind him, letting it hang over the arm rest of her sofa. He followed her lead, tugging his shirt off and tossing it down. The rush between them, heightening both their highs. They made quick work of the remainder of their clothes. Lips and teeth meeting several body parts as they tossed another garment away.

He was running hot kisses down her neck when he started backing up, bringing her with him. He dropped onto the couch, pulling her down and adjusting her over his lap. They both groaned at the contact. She rolled her hips, causing more friction and more urgency to their situation. He dropped his head back against the headrest, staring up at the ceiling as she ground against him. One less layer and they’d be one.

He palmed her thigh with one hand, smoothing it up to the line of her underwear on her hip. He tugged them down without warning and she shivered. They both smiled at the reaction. She hopped off him, kicking her underwear away and yanking his boxers off. She grabbed the back of the couch next to his head and straddled his lap.

She kept herself propped up, so their laps hadn’t connected yet. He growled up at her as she thread her fingers through his hair, pulling his head farther back. She loomed over him, both their smiles reflecting in each other’s expressions. She smoothed a hand over one side of his hair and knew in that moment she was screwed. This was her turning point and she didn’t care. She’d always want him. She tipped her head down and kissed him soundly.

One of his hands dropped away from her hip, to between her thighs. He swiped one finger through her folds, and she shuddered with anticipation. He circled around himself, lining up against her core and with a firm gaze between them, he waited. Without taking her eyes off him, she leaned back and sank down onto him.

They both let out breaths of constricted arousal. His came out as a deep groan while hers was a hitched gasp. Her hands splayed out over his shoulders. She used him to keep her steady and lifted to drop down onto him hard. His hips snapped up into hers as a reaction and they both cried out at the deep angle. They set a strong pace between them. She worked up a sweat as she flicked her hips into each one of his thrusts. Both of them working hard to get the other off.

She panted, looking down at him. His eyes were glued to the area where their bodies were connected. His fingers digging into her hips. She threw her head back, rolling deeper. A sigh of pleasure escaping from her. She felt herself reaching the edge. He noticed it as well and immediately lifted her off him. She moaned at the loss of contact and he let out a quiet huff of a laugh.

With his hands firmly repositioned onto her back, he tipped her backwards and down into the couch cushions. He hovered above her, admiring the mussed look of her hair. The flush on her cheeks. He drank in every inch of her face, committing everything to memory. He didn’t want to forget any of this.

“I got you.” He said, before kissing her hard.

He slipped back into her. Hiking one of her legs up over his waist and pushing the other one up to bend into her chest. He tilted her hips sideways, fitting between her perfectly. She cried out at the change in angle. He smirked. Proud of himself. For being the one to have her feeling this way. For being the one to illicit this type of response. He resumed a steady pace. Both of their bodies moving together. Each of them chasing their own releases.

The muscles in her abdomen tightened at the coming feeling. She dropped her head back, closing her eyes. Her release reaching its breaking point. She was about to boil over when one of his hands caught her chin and pulled her down to look at him. She was breathing erratically, unable to control it.

“Mírame, princesa.” He murmured, “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

“Coco,” She whined.

He lost his rhythm at the sound of her voice. He stilled momentarily before he gathered himself back and slammed into her. Several more times, harder than he had been before. Her body arched up into his while he slipped one hand to her lower back to balance her. She grabbed for him. Keeping her eyes on his. Her orgasm moments away. He felt her body tensing and he hit it harder. Wanting her to let go.

He reached his peak before her, cursing at the feeling and himself. He dropped a hand down into the junction between her thighs and circled that sensitive spot. She bucked up into his touch, crying out and rocking harder along him. He twitched with a satisfied groan. The feeling of her body coming apart while he was still buried deep in her sending him. He let go of her gaze, dropping his head to lay on her chest, working her nub until she was chanting out his name and spilling over.

He turned his cheek to press an open mouth kiss to her collarbone before they collapsed down into a heap on her couch. She wrapped her arms around him, cuddling him closer to her. He fit himself comfortably between the back of her couch and her side. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and felt his smile. They stayed there, connected and sated. Each of them breathing deeply, evening out their breaths. She could hold him like this forever. She never expected this in a million years, but damn was she glad it happened.

~(MMC)~

He was sitting around the bar with the rest of the club. They were winding down from another long day of meetings and dealings. He was reclining back in his seat, drinking a beer and smirking along with the conversation. He was constantly fading in and out of the conversation. He wondered if they needed him back home after tonight, or if he could make another detour up north for a night.

At the thought of her, he pulled out his phone and opened up their ongoing messages. He noticed she hadn’t said anything for a while, and it worried him slightly. Even when they were both busy, they both made an effort to at least check in. He was the last one to send a message and for fear of coming on too strong, he shut off the screen. He didn’t want to text again. He always worried about ruining the dynamic they built. Especially after that weekend two months ago.

He smirked at the reminder. Remembering how many times he had her. They’d stayed up the entire night. Learning everything they could about each other’s bodies. When the sun finally came up over the horizon, they succumbed to their exhaustion and curled up in her bed. He kept her close to him the entire time they slept. He didn’t have a lot of time with her, but he was determined to make it worth it.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the same hangaround crawling back into his lap. He glared at her as she did it. He’d told her multiple times throughout the night that he wasn’t interested. He considered just leaving her alone. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with her. She could sit there all she wanted. She wasn’t getting anything out of him. He glanced around the table and noted that there were several empty laps. She had no business continuing to try and get into his.

He grabbed the woman by the back of her neck and put his lips to ear, “Find someone else to hang off of.”

His voice came out in a growl and in a show of defiance, she turned and straddled his lap. His hand fell down and brushed against her hip. He dropped his beer down on to the table and gripped both her hips, attempting to lift her off him when he heard a voice he wasn’t expecting.

~(MMC)~

She sped well over the speed limit. Her destination in sight. The map on her propped-up tablet, showing her the directions. She chuckled to herself at the lengths she’d gone to try and surprise him. When Angel accidentally let it slip that they were going to be in Vegas this weekend, it wasn’t hard to figure out where they were going to be. There were three possible casinos that were under Tribal law.

She’d already checked the first two. Inside and out, and no MC’s. Now she was speeding down the side roads to the other end of the strip. Third time’s the charm and all that. She pulled into the general parking lot and killed the engine. She did a quick glance around before grabbing her bag out of her backseat. She shifted the front seat all the way back and ripped her track pants off, switching them for a pair of ripped jeans. She adjusted her shirt and then did a quick touch up of her makeup. She grabbed her wallet and keys and stepped out of the car.

She stopped at the doors. This was definitely the right place. She could see the line of pristine chromed out Harley’s off to the left. If he could surprise her, it was only fair that she return the gesture. She pushed through the doors and scanned the main area. She spotted the bar and knew that that’s where he’d be. With a wide smile, she walked over to the area, stepping through the threshold and spotting the dozen Mayans kuttes. She moved towards the table but halted in her advance at what she saw.

Several emotions ran through her at the sight of him with his hands all over another woman. The one that stuck the most was how dumb she’d been. Had she really expected him to not take up with someone else. Whatever they had between them was clearly a long-distance thing. Long distance translated into not having a warm body next to him when he wanted it. She wasn’t there when he wanted something more than conversation. How had she managed to delude herself into believing he wasn’t exactly like the rest of them.

She never worried about Angel and his way with women. They’d never been anything more than friends. She never had to worry about him doing her wrong. There were no expectations between them. However, with Coco it was different. This was the first time she actually got caught up with a member. Giving her heart away to him. Whether he knew it or not.

“Coco?” Her voice rang out.

Surprising herself. She hadn’t meant to say anything. She was planning her escape. Ready to run and never speak to him again. All without him ever knowing about her shame. When he heard her say his name, he looked up. The shock at seeing her was clear in his expression. He tilted his head, unsure as to why she had an expression of hurt across her face when the woman in his lap shifted. She watched as the realization hit him. How bad it looked. He shoved the woman away from him and stood immediately.

Everyone at the table followed the sudden movement from him. Angel and EZ spotted her and were the ones to put together what was really happening. Her glare said everything. She spun around on her heel and fled the casino. Coco pushed away from the table and went after her. Angel and EZ not far behind him. The three of them exiting the glass doors together, to find her standing on the edge of the parking lot. Her hands wrapped around her torso. None of them moved. Each afraid to approach her for different reasons.

He watched her, standing there and holding herself together. He could see the shake in her shoulders, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. Reassure that he had her. But he knew she wouldn’t accept it. Not now. He stayed behind her, unsure of how to handle the situation.

How did he explain that what she saw was nothing? Literally nothing. He barely even noticed the other woman there. The hangarounds were like that. All the time. He never paid them any mind. He didn’t care about them for the most part. Not when he had her. However, this wasn’t their normal, come back to it when they’re cooled off argument. They never discussed the real ramifications of their relationship. He never gave her a proper heads up. He never ran through the potentials, the rules. He’d been too wrapped up in everything else.

She didn’t plan to stick around. She wasn’t going to be embarrassed by anyone else noticing her. If he couldn’t explain himself, then she wouldn’t stay to be humiliated even more. She’d been naïve. Believing that things were different for them. She began to walk away when Angel shoved him aside, an irritated glare in his direction before chasing after one of his oldest friends.

EZ came to stand beside him, as they watched Angel stop her and gather her into a hug. They could both see that she was crying. A lump grew in his throat. He was the problem. He was always going to be the problem. Shit. She was better off without him. He heard EZ’s inhale but was grateful the prospect kept silent on the scene unfolding.

“I fucked up boy scout.” He muttered, before turning around and retreating back into the casino.

~(MMC)~

She sat on Angel’s front porch. She didn’t know why she was here. Or well, yes, she did but she figured it was too late. She made her bed. She muted his number. Ignoring him. She didn’t have it in her to delete it completely, but she knew the messages were still there. Sitting at the bottom of her inbox. She acted rashly. She could’ve given him the chance to explain. Maybe it wasn’t what she assumed. She wasn’t sure how it could’ve been any different than what she witnessed with her own eyes, but she held out hope. It didn’t help that he never tried. He never reached out to her. She checked.

The sound of a Harley roaring down the street had her heart doing double time. It’d been so long since she heard one. She knew it wasn’t Coco, but she had a glimmer of hope that maybe it was. The driver didn’t notice her, or at least didn’t indicate that they did as they pulled into the driveway. She knew it was Angel as he pulled to a stop and unbuckled his helmet.

He killed the engine and hung his helmet off the sideview mirror. He sighed as he looked over at her. He leaned back and crossed his arms. She knew he was mad at her, but she also knew he’d never turn her away. He pushed up off the bike and trudged over to her. Standing above her for a long moment while she peered up at him. With a final sigh, he turned.

“You alright?” He asked, sitting down next to her and lighting a cigarette.

She shrugged, “Not really.”

He let out a bitter scoff, “You two are a disaster.”

She creased her eyebrows together at the comment. He’d been here all of a minute, and she hadn’t even mentioned Coco.

He shook his head, “He’s been miserable since you two broke up, or whatever it is that happened.” He kicked his shoe against the bottom step, “Thanks for telling me, by the way. Were you planning to let anyone know? Or were going to keep sneaking around?”

She felt the anger exuding from Angel, and he had a right to it. In the months following Vegas, he never asked her about them. She knew he wanted too but he was smart enough to know that she was hurting too much. She also knew why he was mad at her. She’d never kept secrets from him. Neither had he with her. They knew everything about each other. She sighed. She knew his feelings were hurt. She felt bad but she also wouldn’t change anything about the time she had with Coco.

“I didn’t know how to explain it.” She muttered, “He was never really my boyfriend.”

“That’s a lie.” Angel scoffed, “Whether you two labelled it or not, it’s pretty clear what you meant to each other. I got it out of him later. He told me – showed me – how often you two talked.” He said the last word with quotations.

She threw her hands up in defeat, “I’m sorry Angel but how did you expect me to tell you something like that? Oh, hey, by the way. I’ve been messaging your boy for some time now. We call and talk to each other daily but he’s not my boyfriend? Would that have worked?”

He shook his head at her, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”

They fell into a stressed silence. Both of them irritated at each other. She didn’t come to fight. Not with her best friend. The man she considered a brother. She inched across the step towards him and wrapped her hands around him.

“I’m sorry,” She said, “I don’t want to argue with you. I should’ve told you, but I was scared. Now that it’s over, there’s nothing to be scared about.”

Angel opened his arms and wrapped her up into him, “It’s not over. Not by a longshot. You haven’t been subjected to the hot mess that he’s been since you left Vegas that night. It’s been months and he’s still hung up on you.”

She chuckled, “I doubt that.”

“I mean it, prima.” Angel pulled back and looked down at her with a sincere expression, “He’s fucking miserable without you.”

She cowered away from Angel. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She caught him with a woman crawling all over him. How was he going to justify that? She had a vague understanding of the club and the way it worked when it came to the hangarounds, but that didn’t mean she was ok with the fact that he was getting on like that. She never would be and she figured that was a deal breaker. There was no changing that nature of the club.

“He fucked up. He knows it.” Angel murmured as he watched her thoughts cross her face, “At least hear him out. Then figure out where you two sit with this.” He looked down at the screen of his phone, noting the time. “He’s still on schedule at the yard. For another couple of hours.”

They looked at each other for a long moment when Angel smirked. He knew she wanted too but she felt torn. She came to see Angel, not Coco. She wanted her best friend. Someone who understood her and still loved her. He shook his head and pulled her into a one-armed hug. Letting her know that he got it. They had a slim chance at fixing this. He was okay with her ditching him this time.

“Go.” He urged her, “At least talk it out.”

~(MMC)~

He was sitting on top of the table, his feet shoulder width apart on the bench below him. He was slouched over, smoking and staring off into the distance. The sun was extra hot today and it was irritating him. Really bringing his mood to a horrible peak. Most of the boys had left him alone, sensing his growing temper.

He popped the smoke into his mouth, bowed his head and took off the snapback. He smoothed his hair down, tucking it back under the hat and out of his face. He ran his other hand down his face before grabbing the cigarette again and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

He tried his best not to think about her. He even went so far as to mute her number in his phone. On the off chance that she reached out to him. After a month of no contact, her name dropped from the top of messages to the bottom and stayed there. When he had a bad moment, he’d go back and reread some of their conversations. It helped, sometimes. Other times it made him even worse.

He’d been livid. The more he thought about it afterwards. Mad that she showed up out of the blue. However, that was short lived when he recognized the in-kind gesture. She was returning his surprise to him. It came from a good place. She only wanted to see him again. He wished she’d given him some kind of heads up though. It would’ve made things go a lot smoother.

He could still remember the way Angel rounded on him after she left Vegas. Him and EZ had retreated back to the casino, while Angel took her up to his room and let her sleep through the night. She left early the next morning. Meanwhile he drank himself into a stupor and wasn’t sure how he even made it back to his room in the first place. When Angel found him, he was beyond pissed. Eventually Coco explained it all to him. What was really going on. Apparently, she refused to even talk to Angel. Keeping mum until she finally fell asleep. Angel warned him to stay away from her. Lose her number even. He agreed with his brother. This was on him.

Now it was months later, and he was still wallowing. He wanted to apologize; he just didn’t know how. Even if she hadn’t already deleted his number, him sending any kind of message, or even calling, wouldn’t fix the hurt he caused.

At this point it didn’t matter that he had been trying to get the hangaround away from him. She’d still been able to weasel her way into the position in the first place and that was on him. He was used to it. It was how things worked around here. He hadn’t thought to explain that to her though. He hadn’t realized she didn’t fully grasp the club life. He could’ve made that easier on her. He could’ve tried to clarify it.

He shook his head and tossed his finished cigarette down into the dirt, snuffing it out. No matter now. He hopped off the table, the dirt kicking up around him. He turned back, making his way back farther into the yard to pick up where he’d left off.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been banging the metal bar but at some point, he became aware of someone calling his name. He glanced up to see Chucky trying to get his attention. He dropped the mallet in his hand and pulled off his gloves. He walked over, towards the office and raised an eyebrow at the man.

“There’s someone in there, said she was looking for you.” Chucky smiled.

Coco furrowed his brows. What she could be looking for him. He panicked, thinking it might be one of his baby mamas, but caught the movement in the window and recognized that silhouette. She was looking down at something and hadn’t noticed him yet. He gulped, his breath coming up short and glanced over a Chucky. Chucky gave him a happy shrug and held out a hand in the direction of the room.

Coco licked his lips and took slow steps towards the building. He paused at the entrance, taking a moment to watch her. He felt a strong emotion rise within him, but found it terrifying. He had no way to express it, not now. He knew for damn sure this wasn’t a moment to speak on it either. With an inhale, he moved forward.

“Hey.” He said, shutting the door behind him.

Her head snapped up as he spoke. Her eyes were wide, as if she was surprised, he came to see her. They stared at each other for a moment before he had to tear his eyes away. He couldn’t handle what he might find there. He avoided her direct eye contact, looking off to the side. She shifted on her feet, nervous at being here with him.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek before addressing him, “Angel said you’d be here.”

He nodded. That made sense. From the corner of his eye, he watched her wring her hands together. She was nervous. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be the reason she felt that way. He watched her, his eyes tracking every subtle shift she made. She wasn’t only nervous; she was agitated as well. That had his back raise. His temper already on the cusp of being igniting. Now with her here, throwing everything off axis.

“I – “ She stuttered and it caught his attention.

He snapped his head up fully to meet her eyes again. There were tears welling in the corners and she was fidgeting. He took a step towards her, inadvertently. She noticed the movement and unconsciously leaned in his direction. When she realized what she’d done she let out a scoff at her reaction. It pulled on her heart and she could form the proper words now.

Finding her resolve she tried again, on an exhale she spoke, “I don’t want this to be over.”

He stopped. His entire world freezing with her statement. He’d been expecting a fight. He was riled up. Prepared to start yelling. He was breathing heavily, staring at her. He couldn’t tell what her expression contained. There were too many emotions passing across her features. All he could tell was that she was being honest. Whether or not she was happy with her statement, he didn’t know. He licked his lips, creasing his eyebrows together. He didn’t want her to feel trapped. Trapped in the downward spiral he’d pulled so many other women into.

“Yeah?” He finally spoke.

It was a dumb question and he knew it. She wiped away at her tears and nodded. He was relieved she didn’t feel to call him out on his horrible response. He didn’t want it to be over either. He took another step towards her, waiting and judging her reaction. She didn’t flinch away from him. Giving him more confidence in himself with her. They weren’t shattered, only broken. They had the tools to mend things back. This time with the truth. He nodded, knowing exactly where he stood. It was her. He wanted her. He always had. Since the day she randomly showed up at Angel’s.

“I don’t want it to be over either.” He mumbled.

A sob bubbled up from the back of her throat as he let his stance known. He was quick to close the distance between them and pull her into his arms. He sighed as she leaned into him willingly. Her arms constricting around his middle. Strong and stable. She buried her face into his chest. Inhaling, memorizing his scent. Committing it to memory. The comfort she brought him, settling back in, like an old friend. A puzzle piece, fitting perfectly into his emotional make up. He felt her shift, turning her head to rest her cheek above his heart.

“I think I’m in love with you.” She whispered into the fabric of his uniform.

He tightened his arms in response, resting a hand on the back of her head and kissing her crown. He smiled. That emotion from earlier resurging and now he knew how to properly explain it. He could place it. For the real feeling that it was. It wasn’t the perfect declaration of affections, but it was start. It would help them get through the storms. Weather it out together.

He pressed his nose against her temple, murmuring into here ear, “I think I am too.”

#coco cruz x reader #coco cruz imagines #coco cruz imagine #johnny coco cruz #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc imagines #angel reyes #best friend!angel reyes #johnny coco cruz imagines #johnny coco cruz imagine

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just-some-fiction · 3 years

Text

Just You and Me Part 39

This could be a possibility now that the feds are in town. We shall see. What does Rio get up to when he’s laying low?

Rio was always on the go, always busy and making money. However, there was some heat coming from the feds recently, which forced him to be holed up at home. He was not going to put his employees or family, or the higher ups in danger. The upside to his current situation though, was that it somehow coincided with Lucia’s maternity leave.

Even though all of this was out of his hands, he still had to come up with a plan B. He had a family to feed and was the main boss. Within the first week, they figured out a system that ensured that one of their businesses was still generating a profit - herb would always be in high demand and it was as legit as they could be, without any extra interest from the FBI.

Another part of laying low that he enjoyed was the time he got with Lucia. Yes, sometimes they'd need space, but they gave that to one another. With that being said, it was nice being in the same area as his wife for the majority of the day. They’d do their own thing while lounging on the couch, Lucia would read a book in his office while he went over his books or they’d spend time as a family of four, seeing as Marcus was off from school as well. Currently, Rio was on a phone call with Mike and Mick, while bouncing a cooing Alex in his arms. He was leaning back in his office chair, his feet propped up on his desk, with Alex laying on his chest, fascinated with his tattoo. The infant stared at her father with wide eyes, her hands tugging in his beard and lower lip. Prying her hand out of his mouth, he kissed her palm, causing her to laugh.

A few minutes later Lucia walked into the office to get Alex for her feed. The infant showed her discomfort as Lucia plucked her off Rio’s chest and moved to the couch. Her fussing ceased when Lucia brought her to her chest. Rio finished up with his call and turned to his wife.

"Hey," joining her on the couch he threw an arm over her shoulders as she nursed.

"Everything ok?" he nodded watching his daughter feed.

"Yeah."

The only downfall was the difficulty of sneaking away. For a sexually active couple as the two of them - they have two beautiful children as evidence - celibacy was not an option, however, with said two children constantly around, their sex life took a hit. Not able to handle it any longer, Rio cornered his wife in the pantry one afternoon, hoisting her against one of the shelves.

“Gotta be quick,” he mumbled against her lips as he tugged her skirt up and pulled himself out of his sweats. Lucia said nothing, simply pulling him closer, deepening their kiss.

Rio was thrusting into her at a furious pace, they had to be quick before either one of their kids needed them. Lucia was gripping onto his shoulders with one hand and the pantry shelf with the other. Her husband's face was buried in her neck, breathing heavily into the skin.

"Si papi," she mewled, "just there," her nails dug into his shoulder, "I'm coming," her body shuddered, her hips convulsing.

Before he pulled out of her, he growled, "Tonight, I'm hitting it the way I want, aight," Lucia nodded, pulling him in for a kiss, moaning as he pulled out, "ima hit it so good."

Later that afternoon, she jumped him in his office as he was finishing a call. Shutting the door, she made her way to his desk and sat in it directly in front of him. Their little tryst in the pantry opened a gate and Lucia was not going to close until they had their fill.

"Those products can be delivered through mail order," he placed the phone on the desk next to her, hitting the speaker button. Spreading her legs and seeing her bare pussy in front of him, Rio licked his lips. The man on the other side continued speaking, but Lucia was so far gone as her husband ate her, she wouldn't be able to tell you who was on the other end of the phonecall.

Every now and then, Rio would pull away and answer the person, before diving back in. A few moments later the call ended and he sank his teeth into her inner thigh. Pulling away, he watched the skin turn red and smirked. In a flash he got up and positioned himself in front of her. Lucia moaned as he filled her and soon they were going at it on the desk.

A few days later, Lucia tried something Chuck told her about, which was trending on TikTok. Marcus and Alex were spending a few hours with their Abuela so the couple were all alone. Rio on a Zoom call with his crew about a new business venture when she entered the office wrapped in a towel. Her husband looked up and she saw his eye twitch slightly when he saw her. He kept his face neutral as she walked towards him, obviously she knew better than to sit directly next to him though. Standing out of the way, she pulled the towel off and threw it onto his lap. Suddenly, the sound of Mike choking on something came through the speaker, while Mick cursed in Spanish.

"You two are grown ass adults," Jake groaned, it seemed everyone besides Rio, knew about this trend because he simply looked over at his wife then at his boys on the screen.

"We'll finish this later," he signed off and looked at his wife, who was completely nude. Lucia, who didn’t expect the guys to react that way, didn't really know what to do next. Her husband got up, his brow furrowed and mouth slightly parted as he stalked towards her. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, his eyes focused on her body. He stood behind her and cupped her pussy.

"Why you gotta misbehave?" he growled against her ear, "Interrupting my business to do childish things," he slapped her ass, "suppose to be my good girl," he bent her over the desk, "good girls don't get wet cos they misbehave," he dragged his fingers through her wetness, before sinking two fingers inside of her, "tell me what I'm missing about this whole lil act that everyone seems to get mami," she felt him spread her ass cheeks, the cool air hitting her center.

"It's a TikTok challenge," she explained the trend to him while he fingered her from behind.

"So you did this to get dicked down huh?" he chuckled, pulling out his phone, snapping a pic of his fingers inside of her, "My little exhibitionist, somethings don't change do they?"

Lucia squealed in surprise as he lifted her up and onto the desk. The rest of the afternoon was spent wrapped up in one another. When they were done, somehow having fucked their way to the couch, Rio picked up the discarded towel and threw it over their waists. Lucia was laying on top of him, placing kisses over his chest, while he stroked her back.

“You still ok being holed up in the house?” she looked at him, knowing full well her husband was not someone who could stay locked up.

“I am,” he looked down at her, “the house helps,” he sat up slightly, resting his back against the armrest, “besides I get to spend time with my girl,” he smirked, “don’t get to do that too often anymore.”

They both knew that was true. Since everything that’s happened, from the moment those housewives came into their lives, their time together has been limited. So they were gonna make the most out of this time and enjoy themselves. Lucia snuggled into his chest, her arms wrapped around him. Rio wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her gently, placing a kiss against her head.

Outside of their sexual activities, Rio got to spend more time with Marcus and Alex, something he was grateful for. Most mornings the couple would be woken up by the seven year old wiggling in between them, just as Alex started to fuss in her crib. The family of four would spend the morning in bed, with Alex resting against her mother or father’s chest while Marcus played with her. They usually have breakfast and then Rio would disappear into his office to do some work, with Marcus following him with his own work, which consisted of colouring books and crayons, or something else to keep him entertained.

They seemed to have a routine going. However, as life usually does, there were curveballs involved as well. One day, his mother, sisters and Chuck turned up at their front door and Rio had a deja vu moment. Lucia shook her head when she saw the ladies and the look on her husband’s face.

“You not getting out of this one,” Gabby smirked, “he had enough practice with Marcus,” she jerked her head towards her brother, “he can handle two kids.”

“It’s not that,” she sighed, sending her husband a look.

“You can bang him when you get back,” Mia spoke up, earning her a slap upside the head, yet again, from her mother.

“Amelia Ramirez,” Yolanda snapped.

“What,” she looked at her mother, “mama they have two kids and had sleepovers since high school,” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Get out,” Rio groaned.

Lucia kissed her husband, “See you later baby.”

Just as the front door shut, Alex’s wail rang through the house. Rio made his way to the bedroom to check on his baby. Picking up the infant, he held her against his chest.

“I gotchu princessa,” he swayed her gently and soon enough, she settled causing him to smile, “definitely your mama’s child.”

Realising the house was a bit too quiet, he went searching for his seven year old, who recently started conducting unsupervised experiments in the kitchen. They were going to have to restrict some of the science channels Marcus watched on YouTube and TV pretty soon.

“Pop no,” Rio groaned, walking into the kitchen and finding his son with vinegar and an entire contained of bicarbonate decanted into a vase.

Marcus had the decency to look guilty before he started pleading his case, “Jane’s mom let her do it and she said it was really cool.”

Grazing over the fact that his son was not going to let go of his friendship with Jane Boland, Rio took stock of the items on the kitchen counter, “Pop we spoke bout this,” he sighed, “you need your mama or me with you when you try these things.”

“Can we try them now?” Marcus grinned, knowing he had more luck getting ay es from his dad that his mom.

“Aight pop,” Rio placed Alex in her baby recliner and made his way over to his son.

Two hours later Lucia walked into her house, relaxed and calm. Her day was stress free and she realised while she was thirty minutes into her neck, head and shoulder massage that she really needed the break. What she didn’t need though, was walking into her kitchen and finding green sludge splattered across the floor. Standing in front of her washer family who were all covered in the same green sludge, including her four month old, who was laughing in her baby chair.

Rio looked at his wife and smiled, “Hey baby,” he tried to be as smooth as he could, “how was your day?”

Deciding she was not going to deal with this and ruin her day, Lucia smiled at her husband, “It was lovely babe,” looking at her son, “did you and Marcus have fun almost destroying our home?”

Before Rio or Marcus could say anything Lucia continued, “This kitchen better and my children better be spotless when I’m done with my bath.”

A while later a very sheepish Rio into the master bathroom, “You ain’t allowed in here if your ass is still green,” Lucia spoke, her eyes closed and head resting against the tub, “and if your dick is green we defs not having sex baby.”

“There’s no green anywhere,” Rio chuckled.

“Where’s the kids?”

“Mia came to pick Marcus up for a sleepover,” he knelt next to the tub, “then I fed Alex and put her down for a nap.”

“Who said crime bosses aren’t great babysitters?” she teased.

“I ain’t no babysitter,” he splashed her, “I’m a dad.”

“Get into the fucking tub baby.”

#rio good girls #rio nbc #good girls nbc #nbc good girls #lucia solano #lucia x rio #mick good girls #mike graceland

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tamorasky · 4 years

Text

Mistress Anna Epilogue

Rating: M

Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for the women to be eventually cast aside, Anna was just naive enough to believe it would never happen to her.

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff

Words: 4,888

Canadian Frontier Au.

AO3

Masterlist

Note: Thank you Molly for talking me through the epilogue

Nebraska Territory, 1855

Anna’s hands slowly prune as she quickly washes the dishes, trying to complete the task before the water turns cold. With a sigh, she wipes the sweat off her brow with her forearm, promptly returning to scrubbing the cast iron pan. It is the last item in her washing basin, hoping the remains of the eggs wash out of the pan before the most pressing matter in the house roused.

She lifts the heavy pan out of the bowl, placing it on the table before wiping the metal with a cloth until it is nearly dry. Picking the pan off the table, Anna walks over to the shelving Kristoff had crafted for the kitchen, placing the heavy item on the bottom shelf.

As if on cue, a sound emits from their bedroom, indicating Anna had run out of time. Quickly she wipes her damp hands on her apron, untying the garment and discarding it on a hook as she meanders towards the room.

Stepping through the threshold of the room, Anna looks to the wooden bassinet settled next to their dresser.

"I'm coming, baby." She coos, standing in front of the crib to see her daughter thrashing wildly in her crib. Astrid's face is scrunched and turning pink as she cries. Anna’s bottom lip juts out as she reaches into the bassinet, gently picking up the 4-month-old.

Anna presses her cheek to her baby's head, rubbing the infant's back soothingly as she withdraws from the crib. She hums softly to Astrid as they exit the bedroom, making her way through their house to the rocking chair settled next to the fireplace.

Bracing Astrid's back with her hand, Anna seats herself on the rocking chair, trying to keep it steady as she leans back. Resting her elbow on the armrest, Anna maneuvers her youngest to her chest, Astrid's head in line with the rest of Anna's body.

When she had Eliza, Anna found herself often fumbling to unbutton her blouse to feed her eldest daughter, now with her second daughter, it is a matter of seconds. A tired smile crosses her features as the baby's chin and nose touch her breast.

Breastfeeding Eliza had been easy. Astrid always put up more of a fight. Anna had been certain for the first few hours of Astrid's life that she was going to have to be bottle-fed. But in the early hours of the morning, after hours of trying to get the infant to latch, Astrid had finally relented.

Anna brushes Astrid's whips of blonde hair as her honey eyes begin to flutter shut, similar to the night the second girl was born.

.........

She had come slightly early in the middle of the night.

Anna and Kristoff had decided to travel north from their house near Fort Benton to the Cypress Hills that late April. Initially, Anna had thought the cramping was due to sleeping on the ground while being nearly nine months pregnant.

The slow dampening of her nightgown and the blankets alerted Anna to the labour, realizing it was not bodily discomfort as she had thought. She had hurriedly sat up, placing a hand on the swell of her belly to feel the muscles contract as the pain returned. Her hair stood on edge as she shook Kristoff awake as the blankets that kept her warm pooled around her waist.

He woke slowly, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in their bedroll; panic overtaking him as he stood up, calling across the tipi to where Elsa and Honeymaren slept with Eliza between them.

Honeymaren quickly restarted the dying fire in the middle of the tipi as Elsa flew to her sister's side, taking her hands into her own to ensure she was alright. Kristoff had quickly pulled on his trousers, fastening them as he exited the tipi to inform his mother the baby was coming.

News of Anna's labour had spread through the encampment like a wildfire, women gathered on the family's site to offer their services to Bulda's daughter-in-law. It had taken Cliff, Sven, and Gabriel to make the cluster of women disperse for the night. Which left Bulda, Angelique, Marguerite and the midwife from the nearby Assiniboine nearby encampment to assist with the birth.

Anna had nearly expected Marguerite to enter the tipi with Peder on her back; since his birth, her friend had barely allowed her 6-month-old out of his mossbag. The labouring woman was surprised to see Marguerite had left her son with Sven.

The tipi quickly warmed as it filled with members of her family, and the fire slowly came back to life. Elsa had helped her sister stand, supporting her as Anna paced around the fire until the midwife decided it was time.

Sage burned in the tent, enveloping the tipi with the earthy smell. The sage brought comfort to Anna as the midwife instructed Kristoff to stand behind her, holding his wife up as she squatted low on the ground.

She pushed, unable to make any noise as she focused on the birth, similar to how it was with birthing Eliza. Leaning against her husband's body, Anna found comfort in Kristoff's arms.

Elsa knelt next to her sister, offering her younger sister additional support while Honeymaren assisted the midwife. Bulda sat in the corner of the tipi, Eliza, in her arms as the grandmother whispered words of comfort to the toddler.

Everything was different this time. The sage. The people who loved her surrounding and supporting as she went through this the second time in her life.

No doctor. No lying on the bed. This was everything like the births Anna attended with her mother as a child.

Letting out a silent cry, Anna gasped as the pain became a throbbing ache. Exhausted, Anna fell back against Kristoff, watching as the midwife brought her child forward.

The Assiniboine midwife glanced up to the young couple with a smile. "You have a girl."

Anna managed a tired smile as the midwife handed the parents their second daughter, un-swaddled and needing to be cleaned. The auburn-haired woman didn't care as her white nightgown stained with blood as she took her second borne into her arms.

She was so confident that she would never have the same feeling as Eliza, overwhelmed with emotion as her eyes become misty as she stares at the infant. Her face all squashed and purple, similar to Eliza after her birth. Anna had never been so wrong in her life.

Kristoff pressed a kiss to his wife's temple as he reached around her body to brush their daughter's cheek. "Anna… she's perfect."

....................

Anna holds Astrid over her shoulder once her daughter finishes feeding, gently patting her small back to force her to burp. She can't find herself to care when her second borne spits up over her blouse.

"Better?" Anna asks, pressing a kiss to Astrid's temple as she stands from the rocking chair with some struggle. Holding Astrid to her chest, Anna steps through the house towards the porch.

She stands on the veranda scanning their property as she looks for any indication of where her husband and eldest daughter could have gotten to. Anna doesn't bother to close the door to the house her and Kristoff had moved into nearly nine months ago.

Anna bounces Astrid as she overlooks the land, trying to locate Kristoff and Eliza. Cautiously she steps off the porch, holding her youngest close to her as they venture away from the house. Her thumb brushes against Astrid's linen yellow dress as she floats through the wheat field towards the river.

As they draw closer to the riverbank, Anna can hear Eliza shrieking and Kristoff's chuckling. The auburn-haired woman smiles at the sounds of her loved ones, her arms tightening around Astrid as she walks down the ravine.

They push through the bush, the sun casting spots against Anna's face and Astrid's blonde hair through the trees as her legs strain, trying not to slip on the earth. A giggle escapes Anna as they emerge from the bush onto the riverbank.

Kristoff stands chest-deep in the Missouri River, holding Eliza by her armpits with her back to him, allowing his daughter to kick her legs against the water. Anna steps further onto the riverbank, meandering closer to her husband and firstborn.

"Mama!" Eliza shrieks as she notices her mother and little sister on the bank, ceasing to kick her legs as she reaches out to them. Kristoff wraps his arm around Eliza as he moves through the water, keeping a tight hold onto the 3-year-old.

Anna's toes kiss the water's edge as she readjusts Astrid in her arms before settling herself next to the river, watching as her husband and daughter come closer to the shore.

He lets go of the toddler as they reach shallow water, where Kristoff knows she can stand. Eliza toddles through the water towards her mother and sister while giggling to herself. Anna settles Astrid on her thigh, cradling her back against her bicep.

Eliza climbs onto her mother's skirt as she reaches the shore, clumsily climbing to sit on her mother's unoccupied thigh. Anna shifts uncomfortably under her daughters' weight. Kristoff chuckles as he emerges from the water, seating himself next to his wife and daughters.

The rust-haired girl reaches forward to Astrid, taking her by the shoulders to drag her sister to her. Anna quickly intercepts, shifting her youngest onto her back and places Astrid onto Eliza's small lap.

"Baby!" Eliza greets, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on her sister's forehead. Anna smiles down at the exchange, glancing to her side as she feels a hand on her lower back. Kristoff's thumb brushes against the fabric of her shirt as he presses a kiss to her cheek.

Astrid's fussing brings the young couple's attention back to their children; Eliza pets her sister's hair in an attempt to soothe the baby. Kristoff reaches over his wife, re-positioning Astrid in Eliza's lap to make his youngest more comfortable.

His free hand comes to rest on his wife’s thigh, watching his girls closely. Anna rests her head on Kristoff's shoulder with a sigh staring down at the two most perfect girls her and Kristoff created.

The family sits by the river for a few more minutes, before Anna decides it is time to move back to the house as the sun descends from the sky. Kristoff leans over, gently lifting Astrid from Eliza's lap before rising from the ground.

Anna smiles up at the sight of her husband, cradling their young daughter, enjoying how small she looks in his arms. The auburn-haired woman stands from the ground, not bothering to wipe the dirt from her skirt as she leans over to pick-up Eliza from the ground.

Eliza clutches her mother's blouse as she is lifted from the dirt, disappointed that her time in the water has come to an end for the day. The toddler watches the river disappear from her view as Anna carries her up the riverbank towards the house.

As they approach, Anna notices an unfamiliar man standing on their property. Both Anna and Kristoff stop with the children, trying to assess if the man standing in front of the house brought a threat to either of them.

"Anna, take Astrid and stay here with the girls." Kristoff turns towards his wife. Anna sets Eliza down, taking her oldest daughter's hand before taking her youngest into her arms. The young mother watches helplessly as Kristoff slowly moves towards the stranger.

Her heart nearly stops as her husband stands with the man, staring as the man begins to reach for something in his bag. Anna prepares to run towards the river with both her children in tow, in case of any threat. But it never occurs.

Kristoff stands with the man, nodding as the man rummages around his leather bag, trying to receive something. Anna approaches with her brows knit together in confusion at the man's presence.

"Ah! Here it is." The stranger exclaims, pulling an envelope from his bag, happening to glance at Anna and the children. "Are you Mrs. Bjorgman?"

"I am," Anna confirms, confused as the man extends the letter to her. Reluctantly she detaches her hand from Eliza, taking the message with a polite smile.

"It's from Fort Carleton in Rupert's Land." The man further explains. Although it is unneeded, Anna can recognize Elsa's handwriting instantly. Anna tucks the letter into her skirt's waistband, holding her hand out to Eliza once more before leading her children into the small log cabin.

Eliza shrieks loudly, detaching herself from her mother's side towards the sitting area where her toys lay. Anna follows close behind her eldest daughter, settling herself and Astrid on the sofa. She lays her youngest on the cushion next to her, pulling the letter from her waistband.

A sigh escapes her lips as she feels hands rest on her shoulders, kneading her sore muscles as Kristoff leans over to press a kiss to the top of his wife's head.

"Elsa?" He simply asks, smirking as Anna groans as he begins to work out a knot in her shoulder.

"Y-yeah." Anna nods, closing her eyes as he works the muscles.

Kristoff stops his motions, withdrawing his hands from Anna's shoulders, and moves around the sofa. “Come here, Astrid.” He coos, picking up his youngest daughter as he settles in the spot she had been lying on.

Anna watches as Kristoff brushes Astrid's cheek with his thumb before he glances towards Eliza to smile at his oldest daughter. Anna quickly opens the letter, ignoring the sensation as the paper slices against the pad of her thumb.

She pulls the letter out of the envelope, placing it next to her as she unfolds the paper. As her eyes scan the letter, Anna's brows furrow, trying to understand what her sister had written. “Hans had been deposed as Chief Factor of Arendelle.”

“What?” Kristoff questions, his voice resounds through the room as Anna begins to re-read the letter.

Anna looks at him, coldness settling in her chest as she slowly turns to face him. "H-Hans has been replaced as Chief Factor." The room goes silent, save for Eliza playing with her toys and Astrid grunting. Kristoff stares at her, waiting for her to continue. "Apparently… h-he's gone completely mad."

"What do you mean?" Kristoff slides closer to his wife; his brows furrowing in confusion.

"A-according to the letter, he just went completely mad from an infection."

"An infection?" Kristoff questions.

"Apparently, according to rumours, he caught a venereal disease during his last voyage to London last spring." Anna trails off, her hand holding the letter falls to her lap as she stares forward to Eliza playing with her toys on the floor.

Kristoff moves closer to his wife, placing his free hand on her knee. “Does this mean…”

“We can go home.” She states, her voice breathless in joy as she throws her arms around his neck, tears escaping her eyes.

Eliza ceases to play at the sight of her mother crying, shakily standing from the ground to walk over to Anna. The toddler grasps her mother’s navy skirt, her brows knit in concern, tears pooling in her own eyes.

“Mama…” The rust-haired girl’s lower lip slightly trembles as she catches her parents’ attention.

Anna quickly wipes her tears, removing herself from Kristoff to pick up her oldest. Eliza settles her head against her mother’s chest, as Anna runs a soothing hand against her hair.

“It’s okay sa jaang,” She reassures the toddler, staring down at Eliza. “I’m happy. I’m just deliriously happy.” Anna hugs Eliza tight, burying her face into her daughter’s hair.

As she withdraws from her embrace, Anna is sure to smile at Eliza before pressing a kiss to her forehead. With Eliza still on her lap, the young woman glances back to Kristoff, her eyes pleading.

“Can we leave as soon as possible?”

.................. Rupert's Land, 1858

Anna stands next to Marguerite, placing the bannock she had made that morning next to her sister-in-law's plate of pemmican. The two-women grin trying to hold back their laughter as the community's older women stand around preparing food and gossiping with one another.

"All I know," Gerda begins, raising her hands as if defending herself. "Is that the youngest Laurent girl and her fiancé didn't even wait till winter to marry."

Bulda chuckles, shaking her head. "It wouldn't surprise me if Josette doesn't have another grandchild by the end of next summer."

"I know! Honestly, if you ask me, those two rushed into things too quickly for there not to have been an accident." Gerda lightly touches Bulda's arm, the two older women filtering out the sound of the younger women's laughter.

"Just because they married in June doesn't mean she's pregnant, Ma," Angelique states, shaking her head. Both Gerda and Bulda glance to the raven-haired woman, their raised brows mirroring one another.

"They did start only seeing one another in April." Marguerite shrugs, smirking as she adds to the older women's gossip.

Angelique smacks her sister on the arm. "Don't encourage them."

"What? It's probably true." Marguerite defends, her brows knitting together.

"It's not like courting lasts long in our community." Anna comments, removing the covering for the venison on the table. She hands the cover to Marguerite; groaning as she places her hands on her back, trying to relive some of the weight off of her back.

"You should know Anna. How is it that you and Kristoff were married in September, and then Astrid was born…" Bulda hums, feigning to think of her granddaughter's birthday. "Oh, I recall only 8 months later."

Gerda giggles, shaking her head before looking at her friend. "Oh, and let's see Bulda, you waited to marry in November, and Angelique was born…February. Inform me how that works."

"Ma!" Angelique exclaims, placing her hand over her chest in shock, despite knowing the circumstances of her birth and parent's marriage. The women's giggles surround the table, the banter coming to a halt as other women from the community approach the table with their contributions.

Anna takes a step away from the food table to allow other women to take her place. Scanning the churchyard, the young woman immediately spots Elsa and Honeymaren sitting with one another under the shade of the pines.

She meanders towards her sister and Cree woman, needing to relive the weight off her back as pain radiates down her spine. Elsa glances up as Anna comes closer, grinning up at her younger sister.

"There you are. I was afraid we lost you two." Elsa comments.

"We were helping Bulda with the food," Anna comments as she wraps her arms around her back, resting her hands on the mossbag attached to her. Turning her head to gaze at her third daughter secured to her back, "Is that right, Miss. Thea?"

"Would you like me to get her, Anna?" Honeymaren inquires, already rising from the ground before her sister-in-law could nod in response.

"Thank you, Maren. My back is starting to hurt." Anna responds as the Cree woman makes her way behind Anna. "You got her?"

Honeymaren hums affirmatively, her hands cradling the sides of the mossbag as Anna releases the strap across her chest. As she turns, the auburn-haired woman does act quickly enough to take Thea from her aunt. Instead, Honeymaren carries the baby back to where she sits next to Elsa.

"You can leave her with us." Elsa offers, reaching over to her lover's lap to untie Thea from her mossbag. Anna settles herself next to her sister, briefly glancing at the 4-week-old being passed from Honeymaren to Elsa.

"I'll take your offer; I should go find Kristoff at some point today."

"Last I saw him, he was participating in the races with Sven, Cliff and Gabriel." Honeymaren comments, placing the cradleboard next to her.

"Of course, he was," Anna rolls her eyes, recalling how they lost nearly £25 last year on the foot races. Gazing over the field, the young mother observes the children playing on the other side of the crowd of people dancing.

Eliza runs with her cousins, her rust coloured hair escaping from her two braids as she races around, holding Helene's hand. Anna furrows her brows, looking past the dancers to spot Astrid toddling after her older sister, her golden hair bouncing with every step the 3-year-old takes.

One more. Anna scans the group of children to find her third child, before spotting the auburn-haired child sitting on Louise's lap, watching as the older children play.

Erik had been born only 16 months after Astrid; they had hoped to wait for another child once their second daughter was born but were overjoyed at the news of a third child. Kristoff and Anna had both decided to wait for a while after Erik's birth for a fourth child. Thea came 18 months after the birth of their only boy.

"So," Elsa begins, bouncing her youngest niece in her arms. "How many months are we waiting this time for baby number five?"

Anna lightly nudges her sister with her shoulder, trying not to disturb Thea. "She's our last."

Honeymaren looks around Elsa, raising a brow at the auburn-haired woman. "Isn't that what you said after Erik was born?"

"I said that two hours after giving birth to him." Anna rolls her eyes. Recalling her sister asking her about more children after birthing Kristoff's 9-pound son that afternoon. The young woman glances up from the ground, her sky-blue eyes meeting honey brown ones.

He stands against the church, his hands shoved into his pockets as Sven stands next to him. In that instant, Anna feels as if she was a teenager again. Her heart pounding in her chest as her husband intently stares at her.

The young man withdraws from his friend's side, making his way through the crowd of people as his eyes remain transfixed on his wife. That stare, no matter how many times he looked at her that way, Anna always feels as if she is being hunted.

Kristoff stands in front of the auburn-haired woman, his embroidered white shirt tucked into his black trousers. Anna smiles at the sight of the sash, the one she made him years ago, tied securely around his waist.

"Hi." He smiles down at her.

"Hello." She responds, staring up at her husband as his form covers the sun glaring on her.

"Would you want to dance?" He asks, his hand outstretched down towards her. Anna grins up at him, taking his hand without any hesitation. With ease, Kristoff helps his wife off of the ground, pulling her into his arms.

The young couple leave Thea with her aunts without a word, trusting the two women wholeheartedly with their child as Anna brushes the grass off her ribbon skirt.

No one bats an eye at the sight of Kristoff, leading Anna towards the dancing. Not as they had three years ago when Bulda's adopted son led Iduna's youngest daughter to dance. No girls standing by the church, fuming at the sight of the unwed mother dancing with Kristoff.

It is just them.

Kristoff's hand firmly rests on her waist as Anna captures his hand with her own, pressing herself flush to him as the music starts up one more. Her eyes never leave his as they sway softly with the music, Anna's thumb brushing against his forefinger.

"So, how much money did you lose this year?" She inquires, raising a suspicious brow at her husband.

The blonde man chuckles in response, "I actually won us £5."

"How much did you lose?" Anna repeats the question, narrowing her eyes.

"I owe Sven £10."

"£10?" She pushes away from him, her brows knitting together in exasperation.

"That, or a kiss," His gaze drops from his wife, glancing down at his feet, "but I think he was kidding about that."

Anna giggles at her husband's joke, lightly smacking him on the bicep as she shakes her head. "You're incorrigible."

"I know." He leans over, crushing his lips against Anna's. Enjoying the feeling of the young woman balling the fabric of his shirt in her fist. She hums as Kristoff withdraws from her, staring tenderly down at the love of his life.

They slow as the music comes to a stop. Anna's hand rests on his chest as she smiles up at him. "I'm tired."

"Would you like me to get the children, and we'll head back to the house?" He inquires, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to lead her away from the dancing.

Anna nods in response, wrapping her arm around his back as they peruse through the churchyard. "I'll reclaim Thea if you'll get Eliza, Astrid and Erik."

"Of course." Kristoff presses his lips to the top of her head as he lets go of her, venturing to locate their older children. Anna meanders through the crowd of people back towards where Elsa and Honeymaren sit with Thea.

Her hands brush against the fabric of her ribbon skirt as she stands in front of the two women. Honeymaren and Elsa glance up at the young mother, the Cree woman lightly bouncing Thea in her arms.

"Kristoff and I are going to return home," Anna states, kneeling down on the patchwork quilt to gather Thea's cradleboard. She unties the deer hide rope, loosening the mossbag before gently taking her youngest into her arms.

She rests the baby onto the linen, swaddling her tiny body before securing her into the papoose, relieved that Honeymaren didn't detach the mossbag from the cradleboard. Anna stands from the ground, delicately picking up Thea on her board.

Elsa stands with her sister, holding Thea to Anna's back as the young woman secures the cradleboard to her. The auburn-haired woman turns to face her older sister, wrapping her arms around Elsa in a brief embrace.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Elsa states as she withdraws from her younger sister. Anna nods, knowing that her sister would be over by lunch, a regular occurrence since Thea's birth.

"I'll have lunch ready." Anna nods, waving to Honeymaren before meandering towards the road. Glancing over her shoulder as she hears Thea start to coo behind her. She reaches behind her, resting the back of her hand against the deerskin mossbag that holds her daughter.

Kristoff stands at the road, waiting for his wife and youngest daughter, holding Erik in his arms as he watches Eliza and Astrid dance with one another on the dirt road; their teal and purple ribbon skirts swishing with every movement.

"Mama!" Eliza shouts, waving at her mother as her free hand holds Astrid's. Anna waves back at her older daughters as she approaches them.

Anna sighs as she reaches her family, smiling as Erik begins to struggle in his father's arms, reaching forward to his mother.

"Hi, baby!" Anna greets, taking her son's small hand to press a kiss to his palm. The toddler babbles something incoherent to his parents before demanding to be let down.

"Alright, bud, just give me a second." Kristoff groans as he leans over, setting his son loose. As one child leaves his arms, Astrid races towards him, occupying the space that was once taken up by her brother.

The young man presses a kiss to his second borne's temple before standing up straight, taking the 3-year-old by the hand instead of picking her up. Anna glances down as she feels Astrid tugging at her skirt, demanding that she hold hands as well. The young woman acquiesces to the toddler's demand, walking down the road with her family.

Eliza has Erik by the hand, leading the toddler towards their home with a smile and chorus of giggles. Astrid does not remain separated from her siblings for long, racing after them on her chubby legs, nearly colliding with Erik.

Anna closes the distance between her and Kristoff, taking him by the arm as they watch their children run down the community's road.

Thea tucked in her mossbag, slowly drifting off to sleep. Erik attempting to keep up with his sisters, grinning as Eliza swings their arms in tandem. Astrid running ahead of them giggling before turning back to wait for her family to catch up.

Anna's eyes finally stop Eliza, her eldest. The five-year-old calling out for her younger sister, successfully urging Astrid to take her hand. Her rust-coloured hair now free from their plaits as it blows in the breeze. A small smile comes to Anna’s face as she thinks about everything the two of them have been through with one another.

At one point in their lives, they were all each other had. So alone in the world and disconnected from everything they knew. They were not alone anymore.

Nearly five years ago, Anna was certain that Hans had stripped her of her culture, language and identity, trying to impose his idea of civility and properness on her. What Europeans expected of her and her people. She had felt that she would never regain her place within Ahtohallan.

But there she stood with Kristoff, her husband, who loved her, standing by her side and four children carrying on those traditions and language that were threatened. She had been victorious.

#Mistress Anna #Canadian Frontier Au #kristanna #anna of arendelle #kristoff bjorgman

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9 is done, urgh

This one was quite the exercise in rewriting All The Phrasing. Stoopid fortunes. I ended up splitting it off again. Here it is! Hi, @lostmypotatoes! Next one very soon!

Sans and Frisk did not have a slumber party that night.

No, once they returned from the festival and she finished telling Sans exactly what she thought of his behavior, Frisk sent him to his room, then went to the office and stayed there. Not on the couch: she sat down at her desk to make a few notes while the fortunes were still fresh in her mind. By the time she was done, it was after dawn, her hand was one solid cramp, she'd lost all feeling in her rear, and she had filled up five sheets of paper.

Regarding the child – the one from her nightmares – there wasn't much to write, just key phrases that she suspected would be more intelligible when she'd tracked down the man who spoke in hands. Would Sans have mentioned it if he knew some way in which he didn't belong here? It could simply be his stay in the castle, but it felt bigger than that. She'd had nightmares about that horrible child throughout her entire life, and it had never wanted her to do anything before; had it known she'd meet him, and would its "business" be finished if she killed him?

For now, it was all morbid conjecture. She'd put it aside until she could talk to Sans without wanting to pull his arm off and slap him with it.

So. If she didn't open the box, her life would be adequate. There was a lot to be said for adequacy. Her children would have wealthy, loving parents, and never suffer from hunger, loneliness, beatings—the kind of pain that was all behind her now, the same way a loaded wagon is behind the horse pulling it. Staying busy with her lessons in the strict, orderly convent and then her duties as High Priestess had kept Frisk going, preventing her from having to look over her shoulder. Would marrying Luke keep it that way?

She had gone years without really thinking of her life before St. Brigid's, except for fleeting apprehensions about having to explain the scars to her future husband. Why in God's name would she want to dig that up in the course of remembering something even worse?

By definition, she didn't know the exact contents of the rosewood box. She just knew that when she was about thirteen, one of her teachers had finally explained to Frisk why she couldn't recall anything between her tenth birthday and her second month at the convent: "We could do nothing with you when you first arrived. No food, no rest, just tears and 'Take me back, please' for weeks on end," Sister Clair had told her, almost accusingly. "Your father came to see you for himself, and he was so distraught that he gave the Mother Superior his blessing to do whatever she thought needful."

Frisk had always accepted that the sisters knew best; her father's influence had probably been a factor, but it wouldn't have pushed them to take such a drastic step if it hadn't been absolutely necessary. She herself had done her fair share of comforting frightened or homesick new arrivals, and no matter how distressed they were, none of them had had their memories removed.

She also had come to terms with her father returning home from his visit without her. Her first solid recollection at the convent was of the Mother Superior taking her aside to tell her exactly who her father was, ensuring she understood why he hadn't been a more direct part of her life and why she would be staying here from now on. Accustomed to receiving girls born out of wedlock, the Mother had emphasized how lucky Frisk was that her father had come forward – discreetly – to acknowledge her and pay for her education, and that he would ensure she had everything she needed from then on. Even as a child, Frisk had appreciated how superior the convent was to her prior circumstances, and agreed that she was fine at St. Brigid's.

The only mystery to Frisk was why she had initially been so desperate to leave. She couldn't have been crying for her father; she'd always been told that he was dead, and never thought to question it. Frisk had seen over and over again that mistreated children never wanted to leave their parents, no matter how awful they were, but her mother had only visited her every few months throughout her early life, and once Frisk realized that Mama was never going to keep her promise to take her with her, Frisk had grown to hate seeing her. She hadn't been attached to anyone at the group home where she'd stayed as a very little girl, and when she was old enough to work in the castle kitchens, her only goal had been to avoid being noticed. What had she wanted so badly?

Since Sans had arrived, she had been more and more tempted to try something stupid and just crack the orb or chip off a few figuratively bite-sized pieces. But that wasn't how the magic worked, was it? The sisters had been very specific on how to take the memories back if she so chose, and her fortune had also made it clear that this was an all-or-nothing proposition. She would fully open the box and reclaim the contents, or throw them away for good, no peeking allowed.

At that point, Frisk almost stopped writing and tossed her notes into the fireplace. What was she doing? Why wouldn't she choose a long life with a respectable husband and four children? True, her efforts to free monsters from slavery wouldn't work, but that didn't mean she'd be totally useless. Besides helping humans – always a full-time job – there was still plenty she could do for monsters in captivity, and she'd lay the groundwork for others to finish what she'd started. After centuries of hatred and mistrust, it made sense that humanity wasn't ready yet to accept monsters as equals; she couldn't change the entire world on her own, so—

Except that she could. She could change the world for the better if she worked hard enough to achieve her goal, which she knew in her bones to be humans and monsters living in peace. But how could her lost memories possibly be the one thing that made the difference? And if they were, how was she supposed to deal with that much pain, knowing it would also affect at least one other person?

...But what about the joy, the love, the power, also to be shared? What about the child she'd bear in time for next year's All Souls festival?

That was another worry: the ferryman had said "your husband" for the first future, but "your child's father" in the second. That didn't seem accidental. Frisk knew herself, and she had no idea what would induce her to conceive a child with someone she wouldn't or couldn't marry, no matter how attractive he was or how lonely she might be. With her own morals and her mother's example to go on, she'd sooner die than let a married man near her, and she'd kill him if she found out after the fact!

Surely the fortune-teller would've mentioned the child resulting from violence or coercion? Its wry tone had implied that the father would be unable to talk her out of going to the festival, not that she'd escape from his clutches, which also eliminated the possibility of one night with someone she'd never see again or a man who would die before the baby was born.

So, in summary, she would have little triumphs, large regrets, old age, a decent husband, money, kids, in-laws, and grandkids. Very simple.

...Granted, it...didn't sound quite like the life she'd always craved, with joy and love, real parents, a huge family, and monsters freed in her lifetime, not to mention a man she loved enough to have his illegitimate child...and maybe Frisk could see Luke assuring her with a straight face that he'd "take an interest in her happiness," and maybe it was already making her cringe. Maybe she was already wealthy enough to marry anyone she wanted. Maybe she intended to keep working hard enough that, when she thought it over, she found she would much rather have one child than divide her attention between four who could very well end up being raised by servants. Maybe all these things were true.

...What was she trying to say again?

Right. Maybe all these things were true. There was still no avoiding the fact that she'd be exchanging a life of peace and stability for every bit of the heartbreak that had nearly killed her as a child, and somehow also share it with someone else. Was she stupid enough to open the box anyway out of curiosity, like the woman in the fable?

A treacherous little voice whispered in reply: Are you selfish enough to keep monsters enslaved because you're afraid of being hurt?

Frisk shoved the papers into a drawer and eased out of her chair, shaking her hand vigorously as the sun peeped in through the high window. It'd be time for breakfast soon. She wouldn't take Sans to pieces; she'd let him sleep in, then have him experiment with the alfalfa mixtures while she napped, though they'd need fresh seedlings before he could really get started. The supplies she had already ordered should be arriving this afternoon, which would enable them to try even more—

Sans was not sleeping. Sans was sitting in the middle of the workroom floor with no clothes on. He was holding a book up over his head and squinting at the words as though he'd never seen letters before, and gave a very elongated "Heyyyy" when he heard the door open.

Frisk stopped dead. "Hey," she responded. "What are you doing, Sans?"

"Wheeee," the skeleton said, and demonstrated by falling onto his back. The book stayed up, and his legs fell every which way, one bumping into a chair pulled away from the worktable and the other almost hitting the bedroom door. "'s hot in here," he explained, pointing at the ceiling.

Frisk looked at the ceiling, then at the windows. They were all wide open, and the workroom was freezing. She had the completely irrational urge to cover her eyes, and compromised by turning her back and heading to the windows. "We're going to pretend that it's not hot in here," she said carefully. What on earth was wrong with him?

In the time it took for her to shut one window and place her hand on the latch, Sans had appeared inches away. One enormous phalange wobbled its way up to push her hand aside. "No, 's hot," he explained.

The priestess was equal parts annoyed and concerned now, especially when he teetered against the wall. "Sans, if I did not know better, I would say you were drunk. Have you been mixing things without telling me?" She eased away from him, just in case.

The skeleton seemed to take umbrage: his eyes lit up. "Ya don' know better. I am absolutely drunk!" Just as quickly, his sockets were blank. He peered at the tiny-looking book in his hand and turned it to her, tapping a random word. "How d'ya say this? It's human. How do you human. Please."

Frisk eased back a little more, trying not to look at his pelvis, which was far too close to her eye level. "That's the word 'the,' Sans. If that's not the one you mean, I will have to ask you to be more specific." Should she make a break for the bedroom, or just put up a barrier while she had the chance?

Sans laughed. "Damn, yer cute! Lessee." He dropped the book and continued trying to flip pages in midair. A moment later, he realized his mistake, scowled, and lifted the book on a wisp of red. "Hold on. 's tryin' ta get away." Even the magic had trouble staying steady, she noted uneasily.

Someone knocked on the double doors, and Frisk heaved a sigh of relief. "You can find the word while I answer that, all right?" She lifted a foot to step around him.

Unbelievably quick, Sans sat down, extended a hand, and caught her around the middle in a loose, ironclad grip. Across the workroom, the bar on the doors glowed red and lifted; the doors swung open. "There," said the boss monster, tugging her closer and frowning at the book. "Who's what y'want?"

It was Dr. Serif, who stopped on the threshold, raised an eyebrow as high as it would go, and closed the doors behind him. "Good morning?" he inquired.

"Hands," the skeleton replied, still searching the pages for that errant word.

The priestess was still trying to comprehend what was happening. Was this some kind of bizarre prank, or a distraction from talking about last night? The longer he held on, the less likely either possibility seemed—he was too calm and too comfortable, as if this was something he was doing simply because he wanted to do it.

Here they were, then. With Sans seated and her standing, the giant skeleton could fold his arm and hold Frisk against him like a child cuddling a teddy bear, fingers spread across her upper legs and torso, her shoulders resting on his clavicle. This wasn't quite as scary as the last time he'd grabbed her, but...

Frisk tested his grip and was unsurprised to find that, though his phalanges were angled not to dig into her, they were about as movable as solid rock. "We're having a very interesting morning," she said to Dr. Serif, and mouthed Help!

"I can see that," said the doctor, who gestured for her not to move, then came forward a few steps. Sans' head swiveled, eyes fully lit, and the royal sorcerer turned his next step into a half bow. "I am glad to hear that you had a good time at the festival last night, my lady. Rumors are brewing about a woman with a highly interesting fortune who was called 'Your Eminence,' but no one is willing to swear that it was you."

That sounded like one problem too many. "Good" was all she could think to say.

"I can't find it," complained Sans. He tossed the book out the window. "Gimme another one, pl's."

"You can have it later," Frisk said acidly. That was her old science textbook from the convent, with her notes and doodles in the margins!

"Sans," said the doctor, "where are your clothes?"

The skeleton blinked at him, sockets still wide orange. "Off," he said, as though the sorcerer was being stupid.

"Of course. How silly of me." Dr. Serif bowed vigorously, letting the motion carry him forward. "Tell me, what did you have to drink at the festival?"

"This asshole was comin' onta her." The skeleton's now-free hand patted Frisk very lightly on the head. Despite her irritation, the priestess couldn't help smiling. "I hit 'im with cider," said Sans. "Damn good cider. 'sat why those people were goin' at it, Frisk?" he asked curiously.

The priestess was no longer smiling. "Sans intervened on my behalf when a man wouldn't leave me alone," she explained to the straight-faced doctor. "We tried some apple cider—why can I still smell it on you, Sans? And yes, we saw a couple who couldn't wait until they found somewhere private. I have no idea what they'd been drinking, but it wasn't what we were having."

"Hmmm." Dr. Serif watched Sans, who was examining the back of Frisk's head, then produced a scroll from his robe pocket. "The monster Snowdrake has been confiscated from his owners, effective immediately. I've brought the paperwork for you to take official custody, my lady. He will be here once the captain of the guards has finished questioning him."

Sans started. Frisk tugged at the skeleton's enormous metacarpals. "Let me go, Sans, please."

Very reluctantly, his hand uncurled to let her wriggle free. Trust the doctor to be a step ahead of everyone, she thought as she accepted the scroll, unaware that Sans was staring fixedly at him. The priestess smoothed out the papers on the worktable and began skimming through it.

Sans turned around so that he stretch out on the floor lengthwise. The doctor wrinkled his nose at the colossal skeleton, then peered over Frisk's shoulder as she came to several blank lines for an address. "Where is that, my lady?" he asked as she began writing.

"It's a house I own on the edge of the city. I've been renting it out, but the current tenants have already moved for the winter, so I'm putting it down as Snowdrake's official residence."

"Well done." Dr. Serif glanced at Sans, then suddenly flicked his fingers across Frisk's back. "Forgive me, Your Eminence," he said as she jumped, "there was a spider. We'll have to have your rooms cleaned soon."

The High Priestess scratched her back, gave him a terse nod, and went back to the scroll, moving away from him.

Sans was on his feet. He said to Frisk, "'Scuse us, kitten," then grabbed the doctor and vanished.

She wondered why he was so upset, and why he'd teleported Dr. Serif just a few feet away into the office. Well, at least he'd let go of her without a fight. Should she check on him to be sure he wouldn't hurt the doctor?

After a moment, she shook her head. She'd have to let them hash it out. What was the worst that could happen?

The moment they reached the office, Gaster dropped his disguise, summoned six extra hands, and gripped the boss monster's arms before Sans could dismember him. "Easy, now," the older skeleton cautioned him. "Don't disrupt Her Eminence any more than you already have."

"Oh yeah? 'll disrupt yer fuckin'—"

Smack. "Hold still," the doctor rasped, and Sans jerked convulsively as a hand gripped the back of his skull. A moment later, the hand disappeared and left Sans with his eyes shut tight. "Can you think now, insofar as you are capable of it?" snapped Gaster.

Sans blinked at the hands grasping his arms. They disappeared, too, and Sans looked down at himself. "What." He twisted around to look at his backside. "The hell are my clothes? What'd ya do?"

"I sped up the metabolism of the ethanol molecules that were causing you to lose track of your clothing and treat the High Priestess like a toddler with his favorite toy. In short, you were drunk, and you no longer are. Would you care to tell me how much alcohol it took to inebriate someone your size so many hours after the fact, and how you did so without the lady knowing?"

Sans had gone red. "All I had last night was turkey an' cider!" he protested. "She wouldn't let me try anythin' else! She had the exact same stuff, 'n she didn't get plastered!"

The older skeleton regarded him with narrowed eyes, which was extremely creepy. It made Sans think of Frisk's first question, the one about the child from her nightmares—had Frisk been talking about him? If so, then how did he not belong here? Did the kid's unfinished business with him involve murder? Why?

Why should they beware the man who spoke in hands?

Gaster started to speak, and Sans cut him off: "Were you tryin' ta piss me off back there? Are ya after Frisk, or d'you just wanna screw with me? Whaddya want?"

"To help," the doctor said calmly.

Sans sat down with a mighty thmp. "Ta help. Of course. Why didn't I realize that already?" He tapped his phalanges on the carpet. "Who are you helpin', besides yerself?"

"That is a very large question." Gaster also sat down, on the edge of the desk. "My most immediate goal since Frisk became High Priestess has been to aid her in restoring peace between monsters and humans. The longer I have worked with her, the more I find that, frankly, I like her, and I would like her to be happy if possible." No sooner had the words left him than a hand sprang up in front of Sans, who was already fully aglow. The hand held up a finger long enough for Gaster to add, "Which is to say, I admire her caring heart, her singing voice, her magical prowess...her determination. Would you agree?"

Sans' eyes felt ready to burn clean through his skull. Frisk would get even more upset with him if her office was destroyed, so he tried to say something civil, or at least something okay, or something that wouldn't get him smacked again. But he couldn't.

The hand waggled again, then vanished. "Everything I say and do is for one ultimate purpose, my boy: to gather data. I can help no one if I have insufficient information. Take you, for example." The older skeleton folded an extra set of hands in the air over his lap, like a lecturer settling in at the start of class. "Since the High Priestess made you her apprentice, I have considered your intractability to be an impediment to her plan. I ensured that she had a means of preventing your escape, and I have been monitoring your relationship to see if you were developing any kind of rapport. Now that you have, though, you have become a very different sort of problem."

The boss monster was still at a loss. Gaster was quiet, but it didn't feel as if he was trying to antagonize him again; this seemed more careful, almost sad, thought Sans. "In that respect, I have all the data I need," the doctor said. "I assure you that I have no personal designs on Her Eminence, and I will not imply anything further to that effect." He was looking through Sans now, almost talking to himself. "The more I resolve to be of use, the more difficult it becomes to discern where usefulness ends and interference begins. I am more inclined to let matters go where they will from here on, especially after the advice Her Eminence received last night. But..." The slashes on Gaster's face deepened. "It cannot hurt to exchange information. For example, did you notice that the 'ferryman' is a monster?"

"I..." Sans got his thoughts back in order, contemplated the fortune-teller and his cat-shaped table, and found himself nodding slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I kinda did. He didn't seem very human."

Gaster chuckled. "It's strange how these things work. Where I come from, he is the ferryman in the Underground."

"Where you come from?" A chill crept down Sans' spine. He tried to force a laugh. "We just have a coupla Royal Guards runnin' our ferry. Wha, is there more'n one Underground 'round here?"

"No. There is not." The smile faded. "Now, my turn. None of the people who heard Frisk's fortunes told were listening closely to her first question, or the answer. What exactly were they?"

Sans still had that prickly feeling, like someone had held a door open too long and he'd glimpsed something he couldn't unsee. He probably shouldn't tell the man who speaks in hands that they were supposed to beware of him, should he? "Yeah, she asked about something from her nightmares that wanted her to hurt somebody. He said it's a child who wants Frisk to kill someone who doesn't belong here, something about it having 'unfinished business,' and that Frisk was its connection."

The doctor waited patiently as Sans hesitated. "I'm pretty much positive she meant me," the boss monster continued. "I saw the kid once, and I could tell it hates my guts." The boss monster took a moment to indicate that he didn't have guts, ha ha, but Gaster was unamused. "So that means I don't belong here, and some freaky little ghost wants Frisk t'finish me off? I guess? Any chance ya know what any of that means?" He scratched his patella, wondering if it was his imagination or if his body was feeling a little more touch-sensitive than usual, like his human self.

Come to think of it, he could sort of smell the air in here, though it wasn't as strong as any of the ones he'd encountered at the festival. And now he could vaguely remember Frisk being right up against him a minute ago, and that her hair had smelled like...a smell. All he knew was that he had liked it, and letting her go had sucked.

...Crap. What were they talking about again?

"I see," murmured Gaster. He looked down at his extra hands. "Forgive me if this sounds dramatic, or if it's very personal, but have you ever felt especially out of place, or dreamed vividly of things that you are sure never happened to you?"

It was more than a chill this time. "Yeah, but I figured everybody feels like that sometimes. I've had the same nightmares my whole damn life, over and over. They stopped when I came here and started sleepin' inside her barrier. So..." He scowled, trying to cover his fear. "Somethin' is makin' us both see things? Is that it?" He suddenly sprang to his feet. "Is that why I used ta dream about ya? Are you behind all this shit?!"

Two skeletal hands flew at him and stopped just short of his eye sockets. Sans froze, feeling sick and cold inside as he stared through the holes in the palms. Those hands, coming at him—

Gaster gave a long, tired, defeated sigh. "Data. I am sorry, Sans. This will be very unpleasant, but I need to know if it is familiar to you. Hold still, please."

Before the boss monster could react, a third hand dropped onto the top of his skull and—

It was cold. Dark, darker, yet darker.

Papyrus wasn't moving. Sans struggled out of the restraints, threw himself onto the tiles and screamed at his brother, trying to shake the little skeleton awake, but pieces were already flaking off. Helpless tears streamed from Sans' sockets, soaking the dust into pink mud.

"Messy."

Sans whirled around, choking with grief and rage. He'd always promised himself he would kill the bastard before he let him hurt Pap! Why hadn't he—

Hands smashed into his spine, his ribs, and one square over his face, the palm large enough for both his sockets to see out through the hole. "I never could fix that design flaw," their creator said in distaste, poking at the red streaking Sans' cheekbones. "Strange...I always thought you'd break first. Ah, well." A philosophical sigh. "Now, the question of whether to finish with you and create a better set, or try a fresh copy of that one first. What do you think, Sans?"

There was a deep sound from behind Dr. Gaster, almost a snarl. It was Gaster's turn to whip around, his face contorted in surprise and every one of his hands flung up to defend himself. A flash of light, searing pain—

Footsteps. A dark figure bent over him. Sans whimpered as Gaster loomed back into his field of view. He should have known better than to hope he was dead!

But...Gaster seemed different, almost another person—paler, the cracks in his face more shallow and less splintered than the ones Sans had stared down his whole life. The hand that rested on Sans' forehead was...gentle? "I am so sorry, child," the scientist said quietly. "Forgive me."

Sans couldn't answer. He felt as if his bones were getting softer, his body lighter. When Gaster sighed, Sans watched tiny bits of himself blow away in the puff of breath. It was almost a relief to feel his SOUL flicker out like a candle and finally die.

Sans clawed his way back to consciousness, sitting up so hard that he nearly banged his head on the desk. He looked around, but there was no laboratory equipment, no tile floors or piles of murky dust, just the desk in her office.

Frisk's office. He was here. He wasn't dead, Pap wasn't dead, Gaster wasn't—

"Please do not move."

The boss monster froze in place. "Now, tell me," the doctor said, shutting the door. "Have you had that nightmare before?"

Sans nodded imperceptibly. "Yeah. Long...a long time ago." He couldn't stop shaking.

He flinched as Gaster patted his shoulder blade. "Please don't be frightened, Sans. It was only a dream. I have never hurt you or your brother, and I have no intention of ever doing so." A black coat drifted past Sans' peripheral vision as the royal sorcerer went behind the desk. "To answer your last question, no, I have not sent any of your nightmares, or hers. As I said, I am here to acquire information. I try to avoid collateral damage in the pursuit thereof, but it is not always possible. For that, I sincerely apologize. I've asked Frisk for her help in calming you down."

Sure enough, a sound was coming through the door behind him. It was faint, but as Sans listened, he recognized her humming a slow, sweet little song. Out of her entire repertoire, that one was probably his favorite; he hadn't heard it in so long that he'd been on the verge of swallowing his pride and asking her to do it again. Had Gaster requested that one specifically, or did she know?

Gaster watched the tension fade from the boss monster's massive frame, and the smallest movements of his skull as he bobbed his head along. The doctor examined the center of Sans' chest, his eyes going very wide. Sans was too mellow to ask what he was looking at...probably his SOUL. Eh, whatever.

Presently, the royal sorcerer said, "Snowdrake should be en route now. Her Eminence is still checking that the papers are in order, as well as the deposit she will have to put down until the Church finds another buyer for him." A dry chuckle. "If I know Frisk, Snowdrake will not be sold again. In the unlikely event that someone discovers she's lost track of him, she will be rebuked and lose her deposit, and that will be all."

Sans moved his shoulder back. "She's not gonna get fired or locked up?"

"They wouldn't dare. Not for her first offense, and not for neglecting a single low-ranked monster. Our High Priestess is protected by very powerful connections."

That word took Sans right back to the child from her nightmares. "Why'd you show me that horrible thing with me 'n Pap, and how? I didn't see the ghost kid anywhere. Is the little psycho mad about that dream 'cause it wanted ta kill me first? What the hell is it, anyway?"

"One thing at a time, please. Overall, you may be on the right track, but that's a matter I would rather discuss with Frisk. I—"

"Quit callin' 'er by name. I thought you weren't gonna pull that crap anymore."

Gaster merely smiled. "If you'll bear with me for a moment, the best answer I can give you is that the mind is a terrifyingly powerful thing." Sans bit back his impatience as the doctor settled himself again. "When someone has suffered greatly, especially early in life, it is natural to try to move past those experiences as quickly as possible. But if the mind is active, intelligent, and magically gifted, failure to properly acknowledge these experiences can backfire very badly. Inner demons may become reality, or outside forces with malevolent intent take notice, or both."

"Geez." Sans rubbed the corners of his eyes, wondering where the hanky was. "Yeah, that'd explain why I never got any sleep before I shacked up with someone who could block 'em for me."

A beat of cold silence. "I am not talking about you."

The giant skeleton paused mid-rub. "Ya mean—"

"Most people in a great deal of pain will express it as destructive behavior toward themselves or others. It takes remarkable determination to turn that negativity into the drive to protect other people, rather than lashing out." The doctor shook his head. "I am impressed that she has not seen anything worse than the specter of an evil child. The fact that it can be stopped with a barrier suggests it is primarily external in nature, and her recognizing its intent without acting upon it is also a good sign."

Sans winced. "So, is she seeing it 'cause she's mad at me? Am I in any actual danger?"

Gaster laced his fingers together. "Its power and its ability to work through her will depend both on her intrinsic strength and the energy she has left after dealing with other problems—say, a protege who interrupts an expensive fortune-teller with crude questions in front of dozens of people, and then says 'See you next year' as she tries to get him away."

At this point, Sans would have been surprised if word of that incident hadn't gotten around. "Ya think she's still mad at me?" he asked sheepishly.

"I am not her, so I cannot say for certain, but I can ask you whether you've apologized yet."

"I didn't get a chance! She reamed me out 'n made me go straight t'bed!"

"After which you were drunk this morning, which I still do not understand, and during which you took sizable liberties." A hand popped up to rap Sans on the skull. "At the risk of interfering further, I strongly advise you to ask yourself whether you want to be a friend or a problem."

Sans digested this in silence. The royal sorcerer glanced at the door. "We have a few more minutes. I'd like to ask you a few more questions—nothing terrible, just some odds and ends I've wanted to discuss for some time now. You may do the same."

The boss monster thought it over for a moment. "What's everyone sayin' about her second fortune, the one with the box?"

"Your turn is already over." Two more hands appeared over Gaster's head, one holding a pen and the other a small notepad. "Now, you were a normal skeleton for most of your life, correct? And Papyrus remains as he was?" The hand with the pen swooped down and tapped on Sans' upper leftmost fang, then the top of his skull. "Hm. Intact. How interesting."

Sans swatted at the hand, which evaded him as nimbly as a bug and swooped back up to scratch something on the notepad. "Yeah, Pap's still Pap, and I wasn't born a big ol' freak. Don't ask how that happened, 'cause I don't wanna talk about it."

"Fair enough. Tell me, Sans, do you or have you ever smoked?"

"Smoked? From where?"

The doctor laughed. "I'll take that as a no." Scritch, scritch went the pen. "Do you have a predilection for violence? If so, is it against other monsters, humans, or both?"

"Uh...yes? Humans?"

"I see." Scriscritch. "What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any condiments in particular?"

"My favorite food's whatever I can eat! Haven't you heard what's happenin' in the Underground? Where the hell are you from, exactly?"

Gaster tsked. "In that vein, have any monsters besides yourself become more violent than usual?"

"Not...really. Undyne's more psycho than ever, but I think that's just her."

"Is the situation such that anyone has contemplated resorting to cannibalism?"

"Hell no! Don't even joke about that!"

"I am not joking, Sans. Has the Underground seen a marked increase in sexual activity?"

Great, now he was baffled and embarrassed. "Weren't you listening? There's no damn food! Why would anybody want to have kids right now?"

"A valid point, but to your knowledge, have any of the monsters been engaging in indiscriminate, non-procreative sexual activities?"

"Wha—why the fuck would I know that?!"

That earned him another smack on the head, though not very hard. "Language." Scriscritch. "Now, please be honest. Have you ever contemplated keeping a human as a pet? If so, do you believe you would treat her well, or would you—"

"That does it!" Sans lurched to his feet, eyes and face blazing. "I dunno what kinda sick fantasies ya got goin', buddy, but I'm not gonna play along!"

The royal sorcerer held up his hands, and the extras holding the pen and notepad vanished. "Let's move on, then. Tell me whether this is correct: the second fortune explained the consequences of Her Eminence either opening or disposing of a box. One result is a very dull and safe future, while the other would be shorter and more painful, but ultimately much more fulfilling. Yes?"

Sans sat back down, poking at a scuff mark on the carpet. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Unsurprisingly, many people are fixated on the latter possibility, because it would result in the High Priestess – if it is her, of course, which no one will say for certain, though they're certainly saying it – having a child by this time next year." One side of Gaster's mouth lifted. "It is a very popular misconception that human gestation lasts nine months, but in reality, medical experts consider a full-term pregnancy to be roughly forty weeks, or ten months. I will not contribute any sordid conjectures to the narrative, but if this aspect of her fortune is accurate, the necessary timing of certain events is self-evident."

"If?" Sans sat forward eagerly. "Ya mean it might not happen? No boring husband sometime soonish, no havin' a kid right away?"

Gaster stared at him for a little too long. "Where do you see yourself in this, Sans? Where would you like to be?"

Sans blinked. "Wha?"

"You escorted her to the festival, and mutual convenience led you to present yourselves as a couple, but you are not her husband. You are her apprentice and personal guard for the next twenty or so days, after which she will return to the usual course of her duties, and you will return to the Underground to report to King Asgore that the humans are interested in reopening diplomatic relations."

"Actually," Sans said, trying not to sound smug, "once my time's up, she's probably gonna come back Underground with me. She's got this big plan ta have monsters work with humans instead of bein' slaves, and it's too much fer me t'decide on, so—"

"So you would risk her life by bringing her directly to Asgore?" The doctor stood slowly, and the room seemed to grow darker as he glared down at Sans. "You idiot! Do you have any idea what will happen if the High Priestess is delivered to your King as he is now?"

"You mean, if he doesn't like her idea? Then I'll...uh..."

"You'll what?" Gaster's voice dripped with such scorn that Sans couldn't muster a response. "King Asgore is not interested in making peace! He would only meet with her in order to take her SOUL!"

The boss monster's mouth opened and closed. "But...if I didn't—"

"Asgore's sole aim is to become powerful enough to take vengeance on humanity. The King knows very well that only women with strong inborn magic may become High Priestess, and the moment he saw Frisk's SOUL for himself, he would be willing to fight her, you, and perhaps even Toriel to acquire it. Do you understand?"

Sans had never felt so small and stupid. Why hadn't it occurred to him that Asgore would notice how powerful Frisk was without being told? All he had thought of was the excuse to take her with him, not even bothering to remember how he had immediately noticed her SOUL and tried to kill her for it. He was smarter than this!

There was no time to beat himself up. He had to think. Her first fortune had said her efforts wouldn't bear fruit, and Gaster had mentioned Asgore "as he is now"; for the second future to come to pass, with Frisk changing the world and achieving her goal, the King would have to be more like his old, sweet-natured self, who would never have killed someone without at least hearing her out. "Whaddya think is in the box?" Sans asked abruptly.

Gaster frowned. "That's an excellent question. I couldn't even venture a guess without seeing the box myself, but I doubt Her Eminence would be willing to show me. After what you said last night, I don't think she would be receptive to you asking, either."

Sans let himself fall onto his back, staring at the wallpapered ceiling. Who the hell put wallpaper on the ceiling? "Nope. She'd kick my ass from here to the Underground and back."

"Crude, but accurate." Gaster sighed, twiddling his thumbs in elaborate swirls. "How very frustrating. We have so much information, but the most crucial component may be forever beyond our gr—"

The door banged open. "Excuse me," Frisk said to Sans, who got up and watched her shove the couch aside.

Gaster quickly resumed his disguise; luckily, the priestess was so fixated on the couch that she hadn't noticed. "May we help you, my lady?" asked Dr. Serif.

"No." The young woman yanked at a floorboard, and both monsters watched in astonishment as she pulled it up to reveal a makeshift safe. She removed the barrier and rummaged through the safe, extracting a thickly folded paper. "Here we are." Frisk scowled as she tried to remove the packet: the safe was so small that the paper was stuck lengthwise against something. The priestess dug downward and shoved the offending object up and onto the floor. "Here is the deed to my house in Riverview, and here's the key. You and Snowdrake will be able to stop there on your way, and no one will...Sans? Hello?"

The men weren't listening to her. They were looking at what had tumbled out of the safe: a rosewood box.

Frisk slapped at it, sending it tumbling back into the safe, which she resealed and covered with the floorboard and couch in rapid succession. "Don't even think about it," she said to them, dangerously calm, and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The royal sorcerer scratched his cheek. "Memories."

"Hm?" Sans glanced at him. "What about 'em?"

"That type of wood is useful for preserving magical objects, but that shape and size are not common. Given the context of her second fortune and the emotional pain therein, it must contain at least one memory." Dr. Serif drummed his fingers on the desk. "How curious. Memory excision has historically been so abused that it was outlawed by King Stephin's great-grandfather. Nowadays, the procedure can only be authorized on a case-by-case basis by a Church official higher than an archdeacon, or the very highest ranks of the nobility or royalty."

Sans suddenly remembered a night not long after he'd arrived where Frisk had mentioned her father, and how loyal her mother had been to the duke she worked for. Just for grins, he'd looked up the hierarchy of nobility in one of Frisk's books, and a duke was the next best thing to being a royal. It all fit, except for the fact that what the hell was in the box? How did you keep memories sitting around like that? Why would you need to carve something like that out of someone's head, and how would getting it back make the difference between a future of "stupid perfect husband she didn't even like" and "monsters going free" plus "having sex sometime soon"?

One more thing came to mind, and before he could stop himself, Sans said, "Hey, Gaster. Doctor. Whatever you are right now. You say you're from another Underground or something?"

The doctor narrowed his eyes at him again. Even with a human face, it gave Sans the creeps. "Why do you ask?"

Sans almost said "Never mind," but the air still faintly smelled of Frisk – he'd have to ask her what it was, exactly – and he wouldn't get a chance to ask anyone else who might know, so, fuck it. "D'ya know if it's possible for a monster and a human to have a kid together? Biologically?"

The royal scientist raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said after a painfully long moment. "It is quite rare, but I am aware of several instances where a human woman married and had at least one child with a monster." He coughed. "With a skeleton."

But before Sans could even start feeling things about that, much less sort through them, the doctor half-smiled. "None of them, however, involved a boss monster." He stood, and walked to the door. "I'm sorry." He slipped out, leaving Sans to stare up at the wallpaper ceiling.

#songfell sick of not answering questions yet very soon i swear

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frozenprocedural · 3 years

Note

[100: "Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."] Pretty please?

Sorry, this took me so long to finish! But it’s a fantastic tie-in to TDOE! So here’s my submission for TDOE “Scarf”. This takes place in @the-spaztic-fantastic‘s “Tale of Two Cities” verse, particularly following her story “In Troubled Times”. Go read it, it’s amazing. I really do hope I do the verse justice. My first time trying to write a bit of Agduna.

Alarik, Jenny and Dag belong to @patricia-von-arundel.

Scarf

"Bes'mor? I can't sleep."

Iduna looked up from her book to see Jenny toddle in, dragging her well-loved stuffed frog behind her. Iduna set the book aside and opened her arms, helping Jenny clamber onto her lap, both of them settling back into the overstuffed recliner.

"Can't sleep, little one? That's no good." Iduna stroked a hand through her granddaughter's soft hair, already forming into distinctive curls like Alarik's. But her face- tipped upwards- was all Elsa's. Iduna could see the fear and worry Jenny was trying to hide.

Iduna knew exactly what was on Jenny's mind, because it had been on everyone's mind for the past two days.

……………….

"MAMA!"

The scream jolted Iduna awake. Next to her, Agnarr uttered a sleepy, questioning grunt. Her own foggy mind tried to figure out what was going on- why the scream felt wrong. Was Jenny…

No, that wasn't Jenny. That was Elsa.

Elsa, screaming in agony.

Iduna threw off the covers, rushing down the hall faster than she knew she was able to. She heard Agnarr struggling to extract himself, but her only concern was Elsa. Her daughter needed her.

When she got to Elsa's childhood bedroom, Iduna saw her daughter curled about her swollen middle, shaking and moaning in pain.

"Elsa? What's wrong?"

Elsa looked up, and from the faint light of the streetlights, Iduna could see her pupils were dilated, and tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Mama, it hurts. It hurts so much." Elsa's voice was soft, almost childlike. She hadn't called Iduna "Mama" in decades.

Swallowing back her own panic, Iduna switched on the light and came to Elsa's side. It was then that she saw the blood spreading across the sheets.

…………

"I don't like the tubes an' straws."

Iduna blinked, struggling to pull herself out of memories and back to reality.

"Tubes and straws? What do you mean?"

Jenny curled up, tucking her head against Iduna's chest. "Mama had them. In her arms. They were scary." Her voice was muffled, but Iduna could hear the tremble in her words.

"Oh, little one, that is rather scary, isn't it?" Iduna reached behind her and pulled down the well-worn shawl, knitted by her own mother. She wrapped it around Jenny, making sure to tuck the ends in, quickly wiping the tears that threatened to leak out.

If she was honest with herself, the wires and tubes frightened Iduna as well.

………………

"Mister and Missus Runardsund?"

Iduna startled, so lost in her thoughts she'd failed to hear the nurse approach. Next to her, Agnarr all but shot up, tension in every line of his body. The nurse- Leisel, Iduna remembered- gave him a wary look.

Not that Iduna blamed her. Agnarr had… lost his temper when Leisel prevented him from going past the waiting room when Elsa was brought in. Iduna admired the nurse- few could stand up to her husband like she had- completely unfazed despite him being well over a foot taller than her.

Iduna rose slowly, feeling the dread grow. Her traitorous mind conjured the awful dialogue- "I'm so sorry, but there was nothing we could do…"

Were they to lose both their daughter and grandchild?

It took a second for Iduna to realize that Leisel was speaking.

"...significant blood loss, however, we were able to stop it, and Elsa made it through the surgery. We have her in an ICU room right now, but we are hopeful that this will be temporary. Her baby was taken to the NICU. Unfortunatly at this time, I can only allow one guest in the room. By tomorrow, we'll be able to increase the visitor limit, but for now- I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Iduna murmured, feeling it was anything but, "It's hospital policy. Agnarr, do you…?"

He shook his head, reaching out to take her hand. "Go. I'll be down in a bit to switch with you. Go see our daughter."

Iduna nodded, then turned to follow Lesiel. Along the way, Lesiel gave her more information, speaking about vitals and statistics that Iduna only half-listened to. Eventially they stopped in front of a closed door. Leseil placed her hand on the door handle and looked up.

"I do want to warn you, Missus Runardsund, it may be difficult to see your daughter right now. We have her connected to several machines, so I want to make sure you know what you'll be seeing."

Iduna felt her throat constrict. "Let… let me see her, please."

Lesiel nodded and pushed open the door.

She wished Agnarr had come with her. Because no amount of pharmaceutical knowledge, no warning from Lesiel, could prevent Iduna from staggering and sucking in a sharp breath.

A veritable web of wires and tubes sprouted from Elsa's body, snaking to various machines that whirred, buzzed and beeped. Her skin was pale, even for Elsa, with a grayish tinge and bruises already growing where the needles sunk in.

Iduna made her way to the bedside, taking Elsa's hand in her own, trying to ignore how cold and clammy it was. Tried to see her daughter past the mechanics keeping her alive.

Tried to keep hope.

………….

"Can you read me a story?"

Iduna smiled, almost relieved. She often wished she had her granddaughter's ability to move on quickly. Even though Iduna had already read a story earlier in the evening, she certainly wouldn't deny her another one.

"Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."

Jenny made a small sound of triumph as Iduna stood, making her way over to the section of the bookshelf she and Agnarr ensured to be well-stocked with children's stories. Freeing a hand, Iduna ran a finger over the titles until she found one that made her smile. Pulling it out, Iduna returned to the rocker and situated Jenny back on her lap, making sure the shawl was wrapped comfortably about her. Iduna put on her reading glasses and showed Jenny the title.

"Guess How Much I Love You!" Jenny cheered. "I love this book!"

"Oh, I know. I gave your copy to your Mama when you were still in her belly. Now, let's begin…"

…………..

Iduna lowered Jenny into bed, brushing away a strand of flyaway hair and lightly tucking the blankets around her. Jenny took after Elsa with blankets- she didn't use many, and by morning, they were often in a heap on the floor, no matter what the temperature. Iduna didn't remove the shawl- Jenny needed it more than she did.

"She's asleep?"

Agnarr’s voice was pitched low and quiet- Jenny didn't so much as stir. Iduna nodded and made one last check to ensure Frog and Chicken were cuddled close before rising- her knees got worse each year, she swore. She joined Agnarr in the hall, leaving the door open just enough they could hear Jenny if need be.

"She video-chatted with Elsa today. She said the IV and monitor lines scared her."

Agnarr pulled her close, resting his head atop hers. "They scare me. But from what Alarik said today, she won't need them in too much longer."

Iduna curled her head into his chest, breathing deeply, taking comfort in his solid form. She could feel tears leaking from her eyes. Agnarr rubbed her back, murmuring softly in Norwegian, calming her.

The sound of the front door opening broke them apart, and they both came to the landing to see Alarik stagger in. He was haggard-looking, with stubble covering his face and neck, and deep shadows under his eyes. Iduna rushed down to meet him, and he gave her a weak smile.

"How is Jenny?"

"She's doing okay. She just went to sleep a few minutes ago." Iduna was helping Alarik remove his jacket and saw the concerned look on his face. No good trying to hide anything from him.

"The monitoring equipment on Elsa scared her when they video-chatted today. So we read a story together, and she was able to fall asleep."

Alarik looked blankly at her for a few seconds, then sank to the step, dropping his face into his hands. His shoulders shook, and Iduna could hear soft, broken sobs.

"Oh, Alarik." She sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around him the best she could. "There, there, let it out. Just let it all out." Alarik didn't lift his head, but he did lean into her, and Iduna couldn't help but to wonder how long he'd been keeping everything bottled up, to keep a strong appearance for everyone.

He was too much like his father-in-law for his own good sometimes.

Agnarr settled on the step behind them, wrapping an arm around Iduna, and, after a moment's hesitation, Alarik as well. For how long they sat like that, Iduna wasn't sure, but then a soft voice spoke over Alarik's quieting sobs.

"Papa? Are you okay?"

They all looked up simultaneously to see Jenny at the top of the stairs, wrapped in the shawl. She padded down the stairs and squeezed her way to Alarik's open side, removing the shawl and doing her best to put it over his shoulders. Iduna caught the other end and adjusted it. Alarik sniffed and pulled his daughter close.

"I'm sorry, Eldig. It's… it's been a long day for me."

"You're tired?"

Alarik wiped away the tears clinging to his cheeks and nodded. "I am, Eldig. Quite tired."

Jenny took his hand, tugging. "Let's go to bed, Papa."

Iduna stood up with Alarik, motioning with her head for Agnarr, who was watching the scene with an unreadable look, to move. "That's a very good idea, Jenny. In fact, do you think you can share your bed with Papa tonight?" When Alarik opened his mouth, she raised an eyebrow. "You need to be together tonight." She was glad at that moment that she and Agnarr had kept the full bed in Anna's old room, even though it often looked like Jenny was being eaten by it.

Jenny nodded enthusiastically, pulling Alarik's hand. "Come on Papa, we'll have a sleepover!" Alarik gamely allowed himself to be led up the stairs, turning to mouth 'Thank you' to Iduna.

Agnarr's hand found hers, and she squeezed it. "I think it's time for all of us to get some rest."

Iduna followed his lead up the stairs, back to their room. She peeked into Anna's old room as they passed, finding Jenny already curled into Alarik's side. He looked already half-asleep, but he gave her a small smile before tucking the shawl around Jenny.

Iduna smiled back. They would be alright. It would take time, but they would be alright.

#TDOE 2020 #TDOE #Elsarik #Agduna

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lesbianzhane · 4 years

Text

our last summer (crygi)

a/n; hello again! this is the first time i’ve ever written crygi, so hopefully it’s not awful! i was originally basing this off of our last summer from mama mia, but i got a little sidetracked. despite that, i hope you all enjoy! any and all feedback is welcomed!

Crystal was fifteen years old when she did her first exchange program. She had always dreamed of working overseas, seeing the world and learning so many new things. When the school approached her and offered the opportunity to fly to Paris for an entire school year, she couldn’t refuse. She practically jumped for joy at it. Her parents were a bit skeptical of the whole thing, they were nervous that Crystal wasn’t going to be safe in a completely new country. Crystal, and the school, assured them that the entire time Crystal was in Paris, she would be protected and accounted for.

She moved to Paris at the beginning of that summer. The school had told her it was to help her adjust, to ensure that when she settled into her new school life she had at least a small understanding of the city. The family that was hosting her had a daughter that would actually be going to her school, and the two of them hit it off almost instantly. Crystal was much more outgoing than Nicky was, and for a bit Crystal was nervous that she wouldn’t like her. Nicky warmed up after a couple of hours, telling Crystal all about the city and how things worked here. It made Crystal feel like a true part of their family, even after a short amount of time.

One day, the two of them were out in the city, ordering from a local coffee shop. That’s when Crystal spotted her. The tall, blonde haired girl who was struggling to relay her order to the barista in french. Nicky stepped in, translating for her. The girl had to be the prettiest person Crystal had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. Her legs seemed to go on for miles, and Crystal’s eyes wandered up the smooth expanse of skin exposed. The girl was wearing a tight miniskirt, and a simple button up shirt that fit her perfectly. Crystal wondered if it was legal for someone to be this breathtaking.

Nicky had to nudge her to get her to stop staring. The girl shot them both an appreciative smile, stepping out of line as the two of them ordered. Crystal got a simple hot chocolate, relaying her order to Nicky so she could translate it to the barista. Once their orders were placed, Nicky decided to approach the girl they had helped. The french accent was heavy on her lips as she spoke, though her English wasn’t broken or hard to understand.

“Hi, my name is Nicky. You’re welcome, by the way.” Nicky shoots the girl a cocky smile, and the look is reciprocated.

“Thanks. I’m Gigi.” She holds out a hand for Nicky, and Crystal watches on in awe as the two of them easily fall into a conversation. Gigi explains that she is also here on an exchange program, and that she just so happens to be going to the same school as the two of them. Nicky swears that the three of them will be the best of friends, even if Crystal hasn’t said a word this entire time. Just as the thought crosses her mind, Gigi turns to her and tilts her head, waiting for an answer.

“Huh? Oh! I wasn’t listening. What did you say?” Crystal tries to laugh it off, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of her neck.

“I asked what your name was. You haven’t spoken this entire time.” Gigi smiles with her teeth, and Crystal swears it goes straight to her heart. She stutters on her words for a moment, trying to formulate a proper sentence.

“Crystal! My name is Crystal!” She quickly introduces herself, though she talks a bit too loud. The attention to the cafe shifts towards her, and she flushes a bright red. Their coffees, and Crystal’s hot chocolate, are placed in front of them and the three of them decide to leave. Crystal is happy to observe the two of them talking as they walk through the busy streets of Paris. She admires Gigi, the way her nose curves and the light dusting of freckles on her nose. The way her lips turn up and the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. Crystal thinks she’s absolutely beautiful.

-------------

About a month into Crystal’s summer, her and Gigi have become much closer. The two of them text almost everyday, usually Crystal sending Gigi some silly meme that made her laugh until she cried. Today, the two of them sit in an open field in the park close by Nicky’s house. It’s rare for the three of them to be separated, but today Nicky has to do something with her mother and couldn’t join them on their outing. Crystal is laying down against the grass, watching the way the clouds roll slowly across the sky. Gigi sits next to her, twirling a flower that Crystal insisted that she kept between her fingertips.

Gigi had been struggling for the past few weeks with whatever she was feeling. It seemed that whenever she was around Crystal, her heart would race and all rational thoughts would fly out of her mind. Gigi had never felt this way before for anyone, not even the boys she had dated. Ever since she was little, she had known that she was different, but she never wanted to admit it. Back in LA, gay people weren’t exactly an anomaly. Her best friend, Jackie, was a lesbian. She remembered sitting on Jackie’s bed with her, watching the Persian cry as she came out to her. Gigi was incredibly happy for her, and those feelings that had been brewing up in her chest for any pretty girl that showed her the time of day only got worse.

If Jackie was unapologetically herself, then why couldn’t Gigi? Her eyes flicked over to Crystal once more, and she rested her chin in her hand as she watched the other teenager. Crystal was also someone that Gigi looked up to. Not literally, considering that Crystal was a few inches shorter than her, but in a figurative way. Crystal was always herself, she never seemed to abide by anyone's rules but her own. Crystal was everything that Gigi wished she could be.

Gigi lay down in the grass next to the other girl, staring up at the clouds. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and reaching over to lock both of their pinkies together. It was a simple gesture, but it made Gigi’s heart practically leap into her throat. Crystal didn’t seem to mind, instead the girl locked their fingers together and gave Gigi’s hand a squeeze. Gigi could have sworn she stopped breathing at that.

The pair lay in silence for a few moments, Gigi trying to regulate her breathing and Crystal sneaking peeks at the other from the corner of her eye. Gigi sat up abruptly, looking down at Crystal in the grass. Her heart pounded in her ears, and it was almost deafening. “Crystal, can I tell you something?”

Crystal sits up, concern present on her face. She fiddles with her fingers in her lap nervously, looking up at Gigi. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“I think…” Gigi wanted to confess everything. She wanted to tell Crystal how beautiful she thought she was, how her smile alone would make her day. She wanted to tell her how much she wished she could kiss her all day, and lay in bed and cuddle with her for hours. The words caught in her throat, and she had to force herself to look away from the other girl. “I think I’m gay.”

That hadn’t been exactly what she wanted to say, but it was enough. Crystal bounded forward, wrapping Gigi up in a warm hug. The presence of her friend was enough to put Gigi at ease, and she silently prayed that Crystal couldn’t feel the way that her heart pounded. She relaxed into the hug, closing her eyes and breathing in the sweet scent of Crystal's perfume. It was enough to make her feel at peace.

“I’m so proud of you, G.” Crystal whispered into her ear, and it sent chills down Gigi’s spine. After a few moments of simply holding each other, Crystal pulled away with a smile. The rest of their day was spent talking about girls they thought were attractive, and everytime Crystal laughed, Gigi had to force herself not to spit out that she thought Crystal was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

-------------

Nearing the end of summer, Nicky had insisted that the three of them had a slumber party. Crystal didn’t really think it counted as a slumber party, considering that the two girls lived together. Really, it was just a sleepover with Gigi. Nicky was very adamant about the fact that it was a slumber party, because there were three people. Crystal just laughed at her and let her believe what she wanted.

Gigi arrived in the late afternoon, and the three of them made their way to Nicky’s room. Crystal told her earlier that she wouldn’t be sleeping in there, and that Gigi could pick between sleeping in Nicky’s room or hers. She was pretty sure that Gigi would choose Crystal’s, but there was still a bit of doubt in her mind that the other girl would rather spend time with Nicky. She would consider Gigi her best friend here, and she hoped the sentiment was returned.

Nicky, being the leader that she was, suggested the three of them watch horror movies. Crystal was an absolute baby when it came to them. Anytime even the slightest noise happened, she would jump and cower behind Gigi’s arm. Gigi thought it was absolutely adorable, and she would have to thank Nicky one day for allowing herself to be in this position. Once the first movie was over, Crystal had practically begged the two of them to watch anything else.

This was how they found themselves in the middle of some old romance movie. Nicky was long asleep by this point, and Gigi herself was starting to feel tired. It was the middle of the night, and Crystal seemed to be completely immersed in the movie. Her eyes were filled with tears as the two leads kissed in the rain, and when a breathy ‘I love you’ slipped out of the male character’s lips, the tears started flowing. Gigi blinked quickly, registering the way that Crystal sobbed beside her at the movie.

She glanced down at Nicky’s sleeping form, before moving to tug on Crystal’s arm. “You alright? You’re crying a lot for some trashy romance movie.”

Crystal looked up at her, eyes glassy with tears. She sniffled, motioning for Gigi to follow after her. She led the pair down to her room, stepping inside and watching Gigi close the door behind herself. It certainly wasn’t the first time Gigi had stepped foot in Crystal’s room, but over the two months she had been in Paris, it changed. The walls went from being barren to being full of paintings that Crystal insisted she needed to own. The shelves filled with photographs of the three of them, most of which Crystal was smiling brightly as Nicky and Gigi laughed on either side of her. There was a photo in particular that always caught Gigi’s eye.

It was of her and Crystal, sitting right on the girls nightstand. Crystal had her arm slung over Gigi’s shoulder, pulling the girl into the frame. Gigi looked shocked, mouth hanging open slightly as Crystal simply laughed beside her. It always made Gigi’s heart race when she stepped into Crystal’s room. It was special to her, and the fact that Crystal left it on her nightstand would make her believe that there was a possibility that Crystal felt the same way Gigi did.

Crystal opened her mouth, tears still fresh in her eyes as she spoke. Her voice was hoarse and sleepy, and Gigi’s eyes were full of concern as she watched her. “I’ve been trying so hard to hide this, Geeg. I really have. But, school is about to start, and I don’t wanna go into it with all these thoughts in my head.” Crystal took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I like you so much. So much more than a best friend. Ever since we met, you just make me feel like I’m living one of the stupid romance movies.”

Crystal’s words tore straight into Gigi’s heart. Just like the night Gigi had come out to her best friend, she wrapped her up in a tight hug. She could feel the way Crystal tentatively held her back, and once she was sure the other girl had stopped crying, she pulled back. Crystal quickly spoke up, eyes darting away. “I’m sorry, I hope this doesn’t make things weird-”

Gigi didn’t let Crystal finish her sentence. She crashed her lips against the other girls, closing her eyes and pouring every longing emotion she could into the kiss. All the time she had fantasized about kissing Crystal didn’t live up to the real thing. Their lips fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, and Gigi could taste the cherry lip gloss that Crystal loved wearing. Gigi hoped that Crystal could feel just how much she loved the other girl.

After a few moments, Crystal pulled away to look up at Gigi. Her tears had dried, and were replaced with a small smile on her lips. Gigi could see how tired Crystal was, and she pulled the two of them towards the other girl's bed. They fell back on it, a small laugh escaping Crystal’s lips as they snuggled underneath the covers.

The two of them drifted off into a peaceful sleep, tangled up in eachother.

-------------

Crystal was twenty two now. Every so often, she would text Nicky and the two of them would catch up on Facetime. They had parted ways after Crystal’s exchange program, but had never truly lost touch. Nicky was busy with her fashion label that she worked so hard for, and Crystal was a freelance artist bouncing around jobs. She had finally managed to leave Missouri, opting to move to New York. She figured she could get more art opportunities in such a big city.

Along the way, she had met some of her greatest friends. Jan, a musical theatre major, had proved to be someone that Crystal absolutely loved. The other girl would gush about her girlfriend, and soon to be wife, whenever she could. Crystal loved hearing about their love, she had always been such a hopeless romantic at heart. Jan was sure that Crystal and Jackie would get along swimmingly, and when Jackie finally visited, her theory was proven correctly.

Jackie was smart, much smarter than Crystal was. She was wise beyond her years, and sometimes Crystal wondered if she really was just as young as they were. The two of them became quick friends, and it made Jan ecstatic. Crystal could swear she had heard the name before, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

Everytime Jan would gush about her fiance, or she would watch one of her favorite romance movies, her mind would wander back to her exchange program. She thought about Gigi, how she was doing and if she ever went on to become the seamstress she always dreamed of. Nicky never brought her name up, so she could assume the two of them hadn’t kept in contact after their year of friendship.

That summer had always stood out to Crystal. It was the first summer where she experienced true love, the first summer she had ever been truly happy being away from home. Gigi had made that the best summer of her life, and every now and again Crystal would wish she could do it all over. Gigi’s number was still saved in her phone, even after all those years. The little heart she had next to it never changed, and it was a reminder of the time the two of them spent together.

Crystal never brought up Gigi to her new friends. She didn’t want them to think she was weird for pining after a girl she had a romance with at fifteen years old. Still, that summer the spent together would forever remain in her memories.

She still had that damned photograph too, sitting behind a few new ones of her and Jan on her nightstand.

#rupauls drag race #rupauls drag race 12 #rpdr #rpdr 12 #rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #nicky doll #jackie cox #jan sport #crystal x gigi #crygi #goodemethyd #small mentions of jankie as well

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