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lonelyboxpet · 3 years

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little wolf

chapter nine: the pet shop

cw: mentioned past whump, loads of fluff, Pet being so cute your heart might bust, past conditioning, muzzling, fear of abandonment

also Pet finally gets a name in this one!!

tagging: @whumpthisway @carolinethedragon @thehurtsandthecomfurts @oracle-of-maybe @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @shiningstarofwinterfun @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @profesional-idiocy @flower-whump

Javier still hasn't given the wolf a name.

But Pet didn't seem to mind - it always looked like it was gonna melt when he called it "little one" or praised it, or just softly petted it. It still flinched every time he extended a hand, but it usually pressed its head into it afterwards. Well, he wasn't sure if it meant that little one was adjusting to him, or that it had just been taught to do so, but it felt nice anyways.

He found out that it was a female, well, probably a female. When he learned that, he started calling her "she". Pet seemed confused about it at first, but adjusted after some time. And after being called a "good girl" for the first time, she almost started weeping with joy. Javier was slowly teaching her to use her voice more, which always made her all anxious and terrified, but she tried her best to please him.

But it apparently wasn't good enough, she thought with her heart sinking when she saw what Master had in his hand.

,,I promise I'll take it off as soon as I can," said Master and held out the muzzle, ,,but we're going out today and sadly, you gotta wear this. If you want to, you can stay at home, but I would be glad if you came with me."

Pet softly whined. Of course it- she, she corrected herself, Master said it was a she - wanted to go with Master, it doesn't matter if she had to wear a muzzle, she´ll go with Master anywhere he wants.

Master's hands carefully slipped the muzzle on and secured it in place, making sure it's not too tight. She could still open its mouth slightly, to breathe, to whine, to … to talk, only if Master wants that, of course. He also put on her collar and a leash, checked if he hadn't forgotten anything, and they headed out.

Some people we're staring at Pet, obviously, but it wasn't that bad, especially if she lowered and pressed her wings into her sides, clinging to Master's leg like a shadow. They walked a few blocks, until Master stopped at a bus stop. His warm fingers brushed against Pet's fur and she pressed her head into his palm.

,,You're being so good," he praised her. ,,Now we're gonna take the bus. Just keep behaving as you do, alright? I trust you, little one, you can do this."

Pet nodded earnestly, but her stomach clenched. She never rode a bus before. What if she fuckes up? What if Master gets mad at it because she won't do as well as he wants? What if he just leaves it somewhere in this city and gets rid of it and it would have to live on the streets until someone has enough mercy to end its suffering and hit it with a car-

,,Look, the bus is here."

Pet flinched, snapping out of her thoughts. The bus stopped in front of them, a few people got out, and then Master pulled the leash to make her move. She got up quickly and shakily followed Master's steps.

He bought the tickets and hummed a quick "thank you" towards the driver, and then he started to walk through the confined corridor to find a seat. Pet accidentally brushed against someone and flinched away quickly, waiting for a hit that never came. Master climbed onto a seat and patted his leg, then pointed down to his feet. Pet hurried to obey, curling up under the seats, trying to make herself as small as possible.

The ride probably wasn't that long, but for Pet it seemed like ages. Finally, Master softly nudged it. ,,Hey little one, we're here."

The bus stopped and Javier got up, Pet at his heels. They got off and Pet looked around anxiously, her nose trembling as she sniffed all the new smells.

,,You were so good," smiled Master and he took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck, ,,was it too scary?"

Pet knew she shouldn't lie, but Master probably wanted to hear that the ride was alright, even though her heart was still racing from anxiety. She gulped and decided to risk it. She nodded shakily.

Master laughed and scratched her neck, smiling. ,,Well, you still did a great job, little one," he praised her and Pet purred softly. ,,Now, let's go."

Pet followed him, wondering what he wants to do and where are they going. Master stepped into some shop, holding the door for Pet to come in too, and she quickly slipped in. It smelled like leather, hay and dog food in here. There were cages and dog beds of all sizes, leashes hanging on the wall, bags of feed for all sorts of animals, regals with toys… Pet chirped in surprise and Master softly chuckled.

,,That's right, buddy."

He allowed her to shyly scurry over to the toy aisle. Pet carefully sniffed over the regals, looking in awe at all those chewing toys, squeaky ones, plushies and many more. Master couldn't help but chuckle a bit. She looked like a four-year-old in a toy shop.

,,You can pick whatever you want," he told her softly. ,,And how many you want. Well, I mean, don't make me buy this whole aisle for you, but, you know."

Pet looked at him with genuine tears in her eyes, wide and surprised and so full of gratitude. She quietly whined and softly nudged his leg with her muzzle, purring. He chuckled.

Pet wandered along the aisle and looked at all these toys, still in awe that she can really pick anything. She seemed interested in the squeaky ones, until she found out that they're really loud. She jumped up in the air, startled at the noise, and hurried to hide behind Master's legs, watching the squeaky rubber chicken with bristled fur and raised feathers, and Javier could laugh his ass off and thank gods he got it on a video.

It seemed that she really liked the plushies. One, a blue rabbit with soft plushy fur and a button nose, apparently really caught her eye, and Javier was prepared to buy it although it was a bit pricey, but then she noticed a box next to the aisle and went to look at it curiously. Javier raised his eyebrows and followed her.

The box had a sign on it that said "used toys - $1 each". It contained one broken squeaky duck, a ripped chewing toy, two old chewed up tennis balls and one smudgy, battered-looking plushie. It was supposed to be a sheep, Javier guessed, light blue and white, with a pink bow around its neck. One eye was missing and a piece of stuffing was showing through a tear in its stomach. Pet softly sniffed it, nudging it with its muzzle. Javier raised his eyebrows.

,,You sure?" he asked. ,,It's not in the best state, I would say. Don't you want a new, good one instead?"

Pet looked at him, nervously wrapping her tail around her legs, and then she forced herself to say the thought that popped in her head.

,,W- Well… N- Neither was- was I, am I r- right, M- Master? And- And you still… still kept m-me… right?"

Javier slowly breathed in through his nose and leaned back, smiling slowly.

,,That's true, little one," he nodded and ruffled her fur. ,,You're absolutely, absolutely right." Pet watched him anxiously.

,,So, this one?"

Pet beamed when he reached into the box and pulled the sheep out. She wagged her tail and tried to lick his hand in excitement. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she wanted to scream, but her throat was too tight. But Master figured out what she was trying to say and chuckled.

,,You're welcome, little one."

Pet softly took the toy and happily chirped, her tail wagging like crazy. Javier couldn't help but grin.

,,Now, to the collars," he ordered and brushed her back. ,,You gotta get a new one."

Pet trotted at his heels, her eyes fixed at the toy Javier tossed in the bag.

Javier stopped by the aisle, looking at all the different kinds of collars. The black, leather ones caught his eye. They looked nice and simple, sturdy, but not too heavy. He picked out one, with a silver tag attached to it, and looked at Pet. ,,What do you think, little one?” he asked.

Pet tilted her head and gave him a nod, wagging her tail. He grinned and ruffled her fur.

,,Good girl. Let´s get the tag and then we can go and pick some treats for you as well.”

He walked over to the machine to get the name imprinted on the tag and then he stopped awkwardly, remembering he still haven´t given Pet a name. He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck. He turned around at Pet, chuckling slightly.

,,Yeah, um… Any name suggestions?”

Pet softly nudged his hand. That probably meant that he was supposed to pick it out himself. Fuck, he sighed in his head again and took out his phone, ready to scroll through a damn name generator or something like that, when he noticed he had a message from Tee. He opened it.

Hey, have u named the wolf yet? I have a few suggestions, if you wont mind.

Dude, you´re an angel. I´m currently in the pet shop trying to figure out what to put on the nametag.

yeah, that sounds like u, idiot. anyways, here are a few cool names.

Javier sighed in relief when he saw the huge paragraph of names that Tee sent him. They were mostly something space-related, but also a few ones in Latin and some inspired by Greek, Norse, Roman and Egyptian mythology. He crouched next to Pet, scratching her neck with one hand, and scrolled through the suggestions.

He seriously considered naming her Fenrir, but it didn´t fit right, considering that Pet was the least intimidating winged wolf you´d ever meet. Most of the names were names of the stars, and he really liked those. He softly muttered the best ones under his breath to try them out.

,,Rhea… That sounds good… Polaris? Nah… Stella? Do you look like some basic ass white girl? Pfft… Oh, Sirius could do… Or maybe Altair? Altair…” He looked at Pet and scratched under her chin, watching her slightly close her eyes and tilt her head. ,,Altair… I like that one. What do you think, little one? Could you be Altair?”

Pet softly chirped, purring slightly, holding her new plushie with one paw protectively. Her ears flicked. She looked nervous, yes, but happiness was more visible. Altair. Yeah. That suited her.

,,Well, I hope people won´t think I named you after that dude from Assasin´s Creed,” Javier joked and got up, stretching his legs. ,,Let´s get the name tag printed.”

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lalahbug · 4 years

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Snapped!Canada x Reader

Fandom: Hetalia Word Count: 1,805 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: general Some sexual themes, I kept it pretty PG-13 though. Author’s Note: (continued under story) Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 11/05/2012. Revamped/edited in 2020. ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. Story under cut

"Why don't you just shut up, you bloody frog!" England screamed at France.

"Why don't you make me?" He replied childishly, sticking out his tongue.

Somehow at every world meeting, they got into a fight. ___ had been coming with England for a while because he asked her to after she had found out he was a nation. She wasn’t really big on world issues and usually tried to avoid then, because she was secretly a nation too.

She didn’t want anyone to know though so she had been avoiding these meetings for years, but once Arthur told her he represented England she was forced to come. Arthur wanted her there to support him, but she never really did. Once she noticed how much Arthur yelled at the meeting, she would sit far away from him and next to Matthew, he represents Canada. He’s a quiet guy and very sweet, although no one really ever saw him.

___ and Matt would talk in and out of the meetings, for a few years. Eventually, ___ got to know Matt very well and started developing feelings for the cute Canadian. She would defend him whenever she could, especially when people tried to sit on him. Even though a lot of people didn’t see him, ___ always did.

"Hey, Russia!" ___ shouted at the tall man, he gave her a childish evil glare, that usually scared everyone. But she wouldn’t be scared of him especially if it meant protecting Matthew.

"Please, call me Ivan."

"Ivan, don't sit on Matthew."

"Who?"

"The seat you’re about to sit in, Matt is already in it!" He stared at her blankly, making her sigh. ___ stood up and pulled Ivan to her seat. "Here just have my seat." She really just didn't want the Russian to hurt Matt.

"Oh, why thank you, ____."

"No problem, I was doing it for Matt-”

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, cutting her sentence off, the arms pulled her into some hard. It was Ivan's chest and his arms were locked around her waist. "Why don't we share your seat?"

"Ivan you're drunk, your breath reeks of vodka."

"I am not drunk; I just simply have been drinking."

"Whatever, let me go!"

"You're not scared of me that is why I like you."

"Let me g-" She was cut off by two strong lips pressing against hers. ___ squeaked and immediately tried to push him off of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matthew get up and run off. ___ hit Ivan on the chest and struggled against him even more as she heard Alfred call after his brother. Finally, Ivan let her go. ___ quickly ran after Matt but couldn't find him. Soon after that Germany called attention to the meeting and got issues resolved. Everyone was soon dismissed and England gave her a ride home.

A couple of weeks had passed since ___ had talked to the Canadian; he wouldn't reply to any of her messages nor showed up to the meetings. So once again, she called him and waited nervously as the phone seemed to ring forever.

"What?" A groggy and rude voice demanded.

"Alfred, give Matt his phone! I really need to talk to him." Any happiness she had when the phone stopped ringing was replaced with annoyance for the American answering Matt’s phone.

"What makes you think he wants to talk to you?"

"Alfred F. Jones! Give Matthew his phone! What happened to you? I thought you wanted me to talk to Matt and tell him what I should have before,” she almost whispered the last part because her embarrassment kicked in remembering Alfred telling her to confess to Matthew.

"Just come over if it's so important to you then." Then he hung up and ___’s embarrassment was quickly replaced with annoyance once again. She quickly grabbed a long thick jacket that went to her knees and her snow boots. Collecting her purse and keys, she stormed out the door and trudged into the knee-deep snow.

The cold air just made her calm down, making her think more clearly. But before she worked out the flaws to this plan she was already to Matt's house. She knocked on the door and quickly stuffed your hands back into her pockets. Then Matt opened the door, his clothes were baggy and disheveled and his hair was uncombed.

Matt just stared at ___ with her hood and hair flaked with snow. Her beautiful face had been pinched red from the cold wind. Her (h/l)(h/c) hair was a mess from the wind and clear signs of her pulling her hood back up many times. Matthew then felt a very cold embrace from ___.

"I was so worried about you!" ___ hugged him tightly, then looked up at him with watery tears, she had missed him so much.

"Would you stop that? It's really annoying. No one ever asked you to worry about me." His voice was level and mean.

"W-what are you talking about?" She looked at him with dismay. "Was it you on the phone?" He just nodded. "What is wrong with you, Matthew?"

"Nothing is wrong, what's wrong with you?" ___ grumbled before pushing away from Matt and going inside. "Well, just come on in why don't you." Matthew spat at her slamming the door.

"I will, it's freezing out there!" She took off her jacket and kicked off her boots. ___ looked around at the place and it was a mess. Normally, Matt had a clean organized place, now, looked like a tornado had ripped through his home.

"What the hell do you want, ___."

"What do you mean what do I want?! I haven't seen you in weeks. You were ignoring my messages and you never showed up to the meetings!" She let her voice raise a bit.

"What does it matter to you? Go kiss your boyfriend because I sure as hell won't be kissing an ugly girl like you." ___ just stood there staring at the Canadian. He was not the Matt she had grown to love and she was becoming worried and scared. She did what her body would let her do, without freezing up, she smacked him as hard as she could. He just laughed, it wasn't like funny laugh; it was a crazy laugh. She grabbed him by his shirt.

"What have you done with my Matthew?!"

"I was never yours!" He growled at her.

"I defended him! I talked to him!"

"That doesn't make me yours!"

"I love him and I want him to be mine so where the hell is he? Tell me because you surely aren't the same man I love and that used to shyly compliment me. My Matt would have never called me ugly." She started to break down. "I thought you loved me too!" She yelled at him before starting to sob. She gripped the front of his shirt while crying before pounding on his chest. "You are my Matt, and no matter what you do I am going to love you! So call me ugly all you want. It will never change the fact that I lo-"

Suddenly the world was blurry and her head was hurting. Her wrists were pinned against the wall and there was a pair of soft and firm lips against hers. Matt had pinned her against the wall and was picking her up off the ground now. Wrapping her legs around his waist and forcefully shoving his tongue into her mouth. There was nothing planned or polite about this. It was a spur of the moment and very passionate. His tongue wrestled with hers and quickly won and started uncovering any secrets in her mouth. Matthew's hands were roaming her body and started to pull up her shirt. Before he could get off any of her clothing, he broke the kiss. Air was stinging her lungs as it entered once again and it wasn't easy getting it back into her system though. As they both panted sharing the small area of air.

"I love you," Matthew said once his breath returned and he laid his forehead on hers. His hands started to fumble with the buttons on her shirt.

"I love you too. We don't have to do this now, Matt."

"No, we do need to. I have been waiting long enough and you're not going to make me wait any longer." With that he ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. She gasped and saw the look in his eye as his hands started rubbing on her sides. He wasn't going to take no for an answer knowing that she loved him.

"May I request a bed then?"

The sexual gleam in his eyes flickered and a slow sexy smile graced his handsome features. "As long as I don't have to stop anything I am doing on the way."

___ woke up in the dark by herself, she got up and found one of Canada's hockey shirts and pulled it on. She walked through the house looking for her Canadian lover. Finding him on the couch in his boxers watching TV. She smirked at him before walking over and sitting on his stomach, clearly pulling him out his reverie, making him jump a bit.

"Of course not." With the last words the Canadian's mouth attached to the (s/c) skin on her neck and started to bite and suck meanly. ___ moaned and arched her back slightly. He hugged her body close to his so he could start walking to his room.

"Hello, my dear." She smiled sweetly at him.

"Hey. Sleep well?" He turned his gaze to her, giving her a soft smirk.

"Yeah, why weren't you there when I woke up?"

"I needed to think." He then seemed to notice, all she was wearing was one of his hockey shirts. "Are you trying to start a round two?"

She giggled. "Depends. Can I have the sweet side of you this time? Because I have a few bruises that are going to take a bit to heal."

"No. You’ll know when he's back by the cleanliness of the house." ___ looked around, still a disaster zone.

"I guess he's gone?"

"Well, now I’m a bit aroused and still angry at Russia, so yeah, he's gone."

"Well, I am okay with whatever side you have Matt. I love you. Dark or not, although the dark side is a bit of a bonus sometimes,” she winked at him.

"Oh shut up already and let's get busy."

"Don't tell me wha-" He cut her off with a rough kiss and pulled off the shirt.

“You're mine. I will do what I want with you, problem?"

She kissed him back gently. "As long as you love me and care for me. Then never."

Author’s Note: Continued On dA, I put this as a 2P!Canada, but someone told me it’s more Snapped!Canada, which now with editing this again, I agree on. So here it’ll be Snapped!Canada, on dA I’ll leave it as 2P!

#fanfic #fanficition #snapped!canada #hetalia #hetalia fanfic #canada x reader #canada/reader #Matthew Williams #lalahbug #lalah writes #reader insert #xreader #self insert

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tommyparkerr · 5 years

Text

Promises Part Two | Peter Parker x Reader

Sorry guys! I meant to update a bit earlier, but this past week has been crazy! Either way, I hope you enjoy Part Two! And once again, a big thank you to Soph for her help!:)

Note: I tried to space the paragraphs out some more for all you mobile users that got the new update (including me) so it’d make it easier to read. Let me know if it’s better or worse? I went back and did it to Part One as well.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst, crying :)

-Masterlist-

P A R T T W O :

Things between you and Peter had never been more tense. You hated it.

You never did talk the next morning, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that...

Peter was temporarily staying at Avengers Tower while you claimed stake to the apartment. Even though the walls weren’t exactly soundproof here and the New York City traffic consistently found its way in through the windows, it was too quiet—too dead. Usually Peter would be cooking or doing the laundry or washing the dishes, soft music playing in the background as he finished up and asked you to dance. The curtains would be drawn back, allowing the sun to light your apartment rather than the electricity. It would be comfortably warm, the natural breeze doing your air conditioner’s job. And Peter would be humming along, both of your faces adorning laughter and bright smiles that resulted from Peter playfully dipping you.

Instead your apartment was dark, dreary, and miserably cold. Though, the temperature could very well be because you were so used to Peter’s warmth that going without it now added an extra chill to the place. It didn’t feel right being there—living there—without him. But it also didn’t feel right to ask him to come home with so many things left unsaid. You were afraid asking him home would only make the both of you more miserable, and you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

Which was why you’d asked to meet him in a neutral location. A café—one you’d never been to in your life and that was bound to have no memories attached to it that would make this harder than it had to be.

You’d tried your best to look presentable, but making sure to eat and drink had been about the only things you had enough energy for lately. It was funny how heartbreak exhausted you, made you numb enough to forget the basics. But you had remembered to take a shower and brush your teeth this morning, and that was a victory in itself.

The brown liquid in front of you gently swirled, the scent wafting up and into your nostrils making your stomach turn. You didn’t know why you ordered coffee. You hated coffee.

But perhaps you’d forgotten that as well.

“Hey.”

Your eyes snapped up, seeing your husband for the first time in days. He didn’t look much better off than you. His normal sparkling brown eyes were now dull, the bags underneath making them look even more pitiful. His hands were shaking—just slightly, but you were trained to notice the small things, such as the lack of color to his skin and the chap of his lips. He looked like he’d lost weight as well; he’d probably forgotten to eat, or, at the very least, eat what his body required of him.

“Hey,” you said with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Peter eyed your drink.

“Is that...coffee?”

You fought the urge to blush. “I, uh, thought I’d try it again. Just in case my taste buds changed, you know.” His questioning look prompted you to go on. “They didn’t. I hate coffee.”

Peter smiled a small smile. It looked sad—like he knew you were lying but wasn’t going to point it out. “I know,” he settled on saying, making your heart ache. Of course he knew. He knew everything about you. “I’ll go get you some tea,” he eventually murmured, breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to-“

But he was already gone, traversing to the back of the line where only a few people waited in front of him. You sighed, fighting back tears. Is that how it was going to be now? Was this what your relationship had come to? After all these years?

The rational part of you reminded you that you had yet to talk anything out, that that was what this meeting was for, that you still had ice to break before you could start treading the freezing waters below. But there was a larger part of you that drowned that rationality out with the fears that plagued you every night and day.

“Here,” Peter said, sliding a hot cup of tea and blueberry scone in front of you. Your eyes pricked with tears at the scone; of course he got you your favorite. He was too good not to.

Peter took your coffee from you and drank slow sips from it. It was obvious he was waiting on you, but he didn’t push you to say anything. When you spoke it’d be on your own accord.

You began to nibble at the scone, not feeling very hungry but knowing you needed to eat regardless. You offered a piece to Peter who looked hesitant, then recognized it was a peace offering of sorts and took it.

The silence droned on, and you knew he expected you to be the one to start up conversation, but you couldn’t bring your mouth to open. You weren’t ready to dig out the demons yet, to bring them to light. You didn’t want him to know how much his actions had affected you, even though it was plainly visible in your appearance. There were times late at night when you wondered if you were overreacting, but then you’d remember just how badly he’d hurt you and knew you were doing what was right for you. This hurt, yes, but there were only so many things you could sweep under the rug. And, besides, this wasn’t permanent—this was only temporary.

At least, you hoped.

Your hands shook. You tried to cover it up by taking a sip of tea but your plan backfired when the liquid sloshed over the side, spilling onto your fingers. You hissed at the burn catching Peter’s attention, and he immediately grabbed a napkin to give to you. His eyes were wide with concern, making yours water up.

“Y/N-“

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the crack in your voice said otherwise. You looked down and dabbed at the scalding tea on your skin, biting your lip at the sting it left behind. Tears started to fall.

“Let me look at it,” Peter pleaded, staring at the abnormal redness on your fingers. Without waiting for a response he pulled your hand across the table and turned it over, carefully tracing the splotches of red. “Does it hurt?”

At your silence he looked up, finally seeing your tears. Concern quickly turned into panic.

“Yes,” you choked out, and from the look on Peter’s face you knew that he was aware you weren’t talking about your fingers. “It hurts so bad and I don’t know how to fix it,” you quietly cried. “I don’t- I can’t-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter said calmly, expertly sliding out of his side of the booth and into yours. His arms wrapped around you, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder. You slid your hands under his jacket and around his waist, letting your tears soak his shirt. He swallowed, probably just as prepared to cry as you but not allowing his tears to fall; one of you had to keep it together for the sake of the other, and you were extremely grateful Peter was volunteering to take that role on this morning. “We’ll fix it, Y/N. I promise we’ll fix this.”

“How?” you croaked, your voice muffled by his clothes.

“Together,” he said confidently. “We’ll do this together, just like we always do.”

You sniffled, hugging him tighter. He responded, pulling you close enough to feel the warmth you’d been longing for. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I promise.”

---

Coffee had become a part of your daily routine now. Only part of a cup, but it was still there nonetheless. It seemed to be the only thing that woke you up enough to make it through the day. Energy drinks you supposed could work too but they had always had negative effects on you, and you knew that now would be a worse time than ever to try them again. And while you still hated coffee, you didn’t hate the extra boost of caffeine it gave you.

Nightmares had been plaguing your dreams, waking you at least once a night if not more. You so badly wanted to call into work sick, but you’d just taken a week off for vacation and knew you couldn’t miss again so soon—not unless you didn’t want to keep your job. So coffee had been the only solution, the caffeine intake in tea not being enough to keep you from sleepwalking through the day.

You wondered what Peter would say about your new obsession if he knew. He probably wouldn’t say anything much—maybe a playful comment or two. He’d most likely just smirk at you from his own cup of coffee, his eyes alight with mischief. But he’d brew an extra cup each morning anyways, making sure it was ready by the time you walked into the kitchen, hair still frizzy from sleep and T-shirt hanging lazily off your shoulder. He’d tell you good morning and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, handing you your cup only after you responded with an unhappy but grateful ‘good morning’ as well.

You stopped yourself there, shaking your head to rid the image. Because the truth was that if Peter was here, actually here, then you wouldn’t be drinking coffee at all. If he was here he’d be there to hold you through the nightmares that somehow made themselves less frequent when he was around. If he was here he’d ensure you were both in bed by nine o’clock on nights neither of you were working, knowing you required extra sleep. Sometimes if you were both wide awake you’d talk about nothing and everything until eventually your voices faded and all that was left was your gentle breathing. If he was here.

But he wasn’t. He was on the other side of the city in a room tens of floors higher than yours, surrounded by handfuls of people yet feeling just as alone as you were.

No, Peter wasn’t here. But his memory was everywhere, leaving you to wonder if this was what it’d be like if his absence turned permanent instead of temporary—that instead of being just a few miles away, he’d be in a place that even the mightiest of superheroes couldn’t reach.

You prayed you’d never find out.

---

“Peter!” you cried out as you snapped awake, your hand immediately flying to the other side of the bed in search of the curly haired arachnid. You caught yourself a moment later, snatching back your hand as if the empty sheets had burned you.

Nine days.

Nine days you’d woken from a nightmare and subconsciously looked for your husband. Nine days you’d searched for Peter in the middle of the night only to remember moments later that he wasn’t there. Nine days it’d shattered your heart. Nine days it hurt just as badly as the one before. Nine days it’d been since you’d gotten a full night’s rest.

Not bothering to try to hold back the tears, you got up out of bed and threw on one of Peter’s hoodies to keep you company. However, even that didn’t seem to help anymore; his scent was growing fainter by the day and it was so diluted now that it no longer comforted you when you slipped it on. But you still put it on each night in the hopes that something would change, much like how your hand reached to the other side of the bed after every nightmare and found nothing, yet continued to do it anyway.

You numbly traipsed into the kitchen, starting up the kettle and robotically preparing the cup of tea you’d had to make yourself each night since...well, since Peter had been gone.

Nine days.

You leaned over the counter and placed your head in your hands, letting a rack of sobs escape you. You didn’t know how much longer you could take this, but you were afraid that once you sat down and attempted to work things out Peter would leave you forever, and you’d much prefer be in the place you were now in your relationship rather than not in one at all.

“Y/N?” a soft, tired voice croaked, sounding as if it hadn’t been used in days. Either that, or used too much.

Your cries came to a stop but you didn’t move an inch. Neither of you spoke for awhile, not even when the kettle started whistling. Eventually you straightened up and turned the burner off, listening as the high-pitched squeal slowly became less and less obnoxious until it had disappeared completely.

“Would you like a cup?” you quietly asked, your voice raw from the many tears you’ve shed.

“What is it?” Peter hesitantly questioned.

“Tea—chamomile.”

“Yes, please.”

So you grabbed two cups instead of one, calmly choosing to ignore the elephant in the room as you poured a generous amount of steaming water in each. From there you put the tea bags in, watching them as they steeped.

“Y/N-“

“Not now, Pete,” you interrupted tiredly, knowing where his mouth was going to take him next. “Please not now.”

He kept quiet.

When the tea was finally done you picked up the cups and carefully handed one to Peter before going to the dining room table and plopping yourself down on a chair. He followed, sitting in the spot next to you. You quietly busied yourselves with your tea until there was none left, cueing the inevitable conversation.

You cleared your throat. “How did you get in?”

“I still have a key,” Peter answered, sounding slightly hurt but not surprised. “I guess I assumed I could still use it.”

“You can,” you quickly responded, realizing that that had sounded like a much better question in your head. Way to break the ice, Y/N. “I mean, just because you aren’t currently living here doesn’t mean it’s not still your home.”

You looked up for the first time, seeing Peter silently nod as he stared down at his empty tea cup, lost. Your heart fissured at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes—he’d been crying, too.

Before you could think about it your hand was on top of Peter’s, your thumb slowly running across his knuckles in what could only be described as an attempt at comfort. It was so difficult to see him like this—so vulnerable and beaten down—and right at that very moment you decided you no longer cared about ‘breaking the ice’.

“Why did you come here, Peter?” you whispered past the lump in your throat.

His lip wobbled. “I-I can’t close my eyes without dreaming bad things. It’s making me go insane. You’re the only one that helps, but you’re not there. You’re never there, and I know why you can’t be, but I can’t take being alone anymore and I just—I just—” He paused, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Finally looking up at you, his eyes equally pleading and hopeful and afraid, he confessed, “I just need you.”

After that his shoulders began to shake and his eyes squeezed shut, obviously not wanting to see the rejection in your face. But, if only he looked, he’d see that there was nothing but pain and longing and understanding there.

You flew up out of your chair and stood in front of Peter, bringing his head to rest on your stomach as your hands rubbed his back and ran through his tangled curls. He wrapped his arms around you tight, bringing you closer to him as he cried.

“I miss you,” he sobbed, his voice muffled by your clothing yet completely clear to you.

You held back your own tears now. Peter had already taken his turn being the strong one; it was time for you to return the favor. “We’ll fix this,” you said much more confidently than you felt. “Just like you said, Pete.”

He spent another few minutes holding you close as he soaked your shirt—well, technically it was his shirt—with his tears. He said something again, this time so muffled that you couldn’t hear him at all.

“You’re gonna have to speak up a bit, baby,” you said soothingly, realizing your term of endearment too late.

But Peter didn’t bring it up. He simply moved his head just enough to free his mouth and repeated in a quiet, careful tone, “You promise?”

Your heart thumped extra hard then skipped a couple beats as you answered without hesitation. “I promise.”

He started to calm down after that, his sniffles being the only sound in the sad, sad apartment. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, brushing back his hair as you did so.

“Do you get them too?” Peter whispered in the silence.

“Get what?” you asked, though you had a good idea of what he was referring to.

“Nightmares?”

You swallowed, pushing down the temptation to lie. Nightmares were for children, not adults like you. Yet here you were ten years later, having the worst nightmares you’d had in your entire life: nightmares about Peter dying, nightmares about Peter leaving, nightmares about Peter telling you this was all your fault, nightmares about Peter finding someone better to take your place, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

“Every night,” you breathed.

Peter’s breath caught as he pulled away from your embrace and looked you in the eye. “They’re never as bad when I’m with you,” he said plainly—obviously.

“And mine are never as bad when you’re with me,” you admitted. You both seemed to come to the same conclusion in that moment. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” you spoke up quietly, and you could practically see the relief flashing through Peter’s eyes.

He nodded, taking your hand and walking with you back to the bedroom. Neither of you spoke as you crawled into bed and snuggled close to one another, soaking up the warmth you’d been so desperately craving. Peter wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, holding you as tight as he possibly could without breaking you. You dipped your head into the crook of his neck and placed a hand over his heart, allowing your mind to finally take a break at the feel of its steady beating.

“I still love you more than anything,” you murmured, feeling as if it needed to be said.

“And I swear I still love you more,” Peter responded with a kiss to your head, making you smile for the first time in a long time.

You allowed some hope to come back now. The hope that maybe not all was lost—that this relationship could still be salvaged. And the hope that, more than anything, you’d be able to forge something better out of it.

You promise?

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut and his breaths were evening out, his heart rate slowing with them. Your eyes closed too, your heart beating to match Peter’s.

I promise.

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meggz0rz · 5 years

Text

The It Couple - Valentine’s Day Special!

(art by @file13thetrashcan)

IT’S BACK, BITCHES

This one is a gift for my beloved friend @ideasthatbuildcities, to thank her for being so wonderful and for supporting my work from the very beginning. So here it is - a special chapter from my very first Inuyasha story, “The It Couple!” If you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can find it..

HERE!

So without further ado...

THE IT COUPLE VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL!

Or, alternatively: SUPLEXES AND THE POWER OF ‘NOPE’

“Kanna, do we have to?” Kohaku grumbled, thumping his chin onto the table surface and fixing her with his best childish pout. “I never agreed to this.”

His girlfriend took a loud, bubbly sip through her straw and set her now-empty soda down, fixing him with that deathly serious stare over the lenses of her black-rimmed reading spectacles. “Do you hate Inuyasha? Do you hate Kagome?” She leaned forward, her whisper barely audible over the hum of noise in the university food court. “Do you hate your sister?”

What the hell kind of question - “Of course I don’t!”

Her dark eyes narrowed before returning to her enormous textbook. “Alright, then.”

“I just - I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day, Kanna,” Kohaku protested, sliding his hand forward over the table to cover hers, “And it’s our third year together. Shouldn’t we, you know, spend a little time, just the two of us? I was gonna make us a nice dinner, and maybe rent one of your favorite movies and just curl up on the couch…”

“We are perfectly capable of enjoying each other’s company every other day of the year,” Kanna said, not looking up from the text she was perusing but intertwining her fingers with his nonetheless, “Valentine’s Day is a scam invented to sell greeting cards. It’s utterly meaningless. I don’t need a holiday to encourage my affection for you, dearest.” A light squeeze of his hand, though her expression never changed.

Kohaku sighed. Once again, her logic was starting to win out. It always did. It was the thing about her that he admired most, and the thing that most often would drive him to near insanity.

“So we’re stuck babysitting my nieces and those two crazy Takahashi kids, while everyone else gets to go out and have fun?”

Kanna was still reading. Research for a doctoral thesis was always intense, Kohaku knew, but Kanna’s commitment to her academic career was incredible, even by those standards. He waited patiently for her to finish her paragraph, and the silence between them was interrupted only by the irritating squeak of a highlighter dragged across the page, until she finally sat back and looked up at him again, removing her reading glasses.

“You’re welcome to join the others at whatever loud, expensive nightclub they end up at,” she said quietly, and though the statement would have seemed harsh and blunt to any other listening ears, he knew she was just speaking plainly. As she always did. Kanna language. “I made a promise to Kagome. And if everyone broke promises society would crumble and fall. Besides, they have a better home-theatre setup than we do.”

“You literally only said yes for the surround sound and the reclining plush seats.” Kohaku broke into a small smile as the realization dawned on him.

Kanna didn’t return the smile, but if she had it would have honestly terrified him and made him wonder what sort of alternate universe he’d woken up in. “You also seem to be underestimating the benefit of watching small children who go to sleep early in the evening. I still have an entire wing of the house for my own particular use, if you’ll recall.” She looked off in the distance, as if lost in thought. “Kagome bought me custom furniture when I moved in. All black.”

Kohaku felt the heat flush up the back of his neck, and as he reached up to tug at his collar, he realized his hands were trembling.

Kanna noticed the tremor too. “Is that a brain damage tremor or an I-love-Kanna tremor?”

Kohaku snorted with laughter. Only you would say it that way. And I adore you for it. In a world where everyone else shied away from the subject, she would always just ask him about it point-blank.

“Probably both,” he laughed. The tremor slowed and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“AXEL!”

Kagome paused, frowned, and sat back from her laptop, craning her head over her shoulder. The house had been quiet for a few blessed moments, with Inuyasha in his office answering emails from god-knows-who and the kids playing with their toys very nicely and sweetly. So of course, she’d decided to get some much-needed editing work done before they went out for Valentine’s Day tonight. And of course, quiet in the Takahashi household usually meant something insane was about to happen.

With a heavy sigh and a chuckle to herself, she stood up and followed her husband’s voice down the hallway, around the corner, through the massive living room, and into the kids’ game room.

Mimi was hiding behind the doorway, her twin pigtails hanging sideways as she peeked inside. Kagome smiled to herself and crouched low to whisper in the four-year-old’s ear.

“What happened?”

Mimi turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, her little nose red and sniffly, and just pointed hesitantly, her little cherub face pinched with nervousness. “Daddy’s mad.”

Kagome ruffled her hair reassuringly and stood to walk past her into the room.

Her precious, beloved son stood there in the center of the room, looking sheepish and a bit glum. And her precious, beloved husband was standing facing the opposite wall, bracing himself upright with a clenched fist, with his eyes screwed shut as he seemed to be trying to calm down.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome said, stepping forward. “What happened?”

At the sight of her, Axel immediately ran forward and threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her shirt. “We were just playing! I promise, Mom! I didn’t mean to!”

Kagome suppressed a grin, glancing up at Inuyasha meaningfully.

Finally, Inuyasha took a deep breath and spoke. “You didn’t mean to throw your little sister through the air into the wall?” He pointed at the new Mimi-shaped dent just below the window.

Jesus CHRIST. Kagome’s mouth fell open in stunned silence and she glanced back at Mimi, who was still peeking through the doorway. Sure enough, there it was. A huge bruise starting to form on the little girl’s left arm.

Axel, what the hell! She thought it, but she didn’t say it. “Mimi, sweetheart, are you okay?”

Mimi just nodded, her lower lip quivering a little. She wasn’t crying, not really. She’s a tough little firecracker, gotta give her that. Of course, having to try and keep up with the actual tornado that was her older brother had no doubt given her a spine of steel that belied her mere four years of age.

“Axel,” Kagome looked down at her son, who was still plastered around her waist and clearly doing his best to be cute and small and precious, “Why did you throw your sister?” Even saying it out loud sounded ludicrous.

“A question I’d also like the answer to,” growled Inuyasha, folding his arms across his chest and fixing Axel with his patented stern-father face.

“W-We were playing,” Axel said, his voice muffled into Kagome’s stomach. Kagome gently untangled his arms from around her and stepped backward.

“Playing what?” Inuyasha held out his arms, and Mimi rushed forward and scrambled into them. He held out her arm to examine it, turning it over gently. “Does it hurt?” he asked her, his voice low and soft.

Mimi nodded, glancing at Axel with a guilty expression, like she was scared of ratting her beloved big brother out. Inuyasha placed a featherlight kiss over the bruise, then turned back to their older child. “Playing what, Axel?”

“...Pro wrestling.” Axel mumbled the words.

She’d been married to him now for eight years, so Kagome knew by the minute changes in Inuyasha’s expression when he was about to lose that famous temper of his, so she just gave him her best let-me-handle-this smile and spoke up quickly.

“Did Mimi want to play pro wrestling?”

Axel looked as if that question had never occurred to him. Kagome fought back a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

“You can’t just throw your sister, kid,” Inuyasha said with narrowed golden eyes.

“I didn’t throw her,” Axel said, “I suplexed her.”

There it was. A quirk of Inuyasha’s eyebrow. A snarl curling at the corner of his lips. Down, boy, Kagome thought, crouching down to stare Axel in the eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this, as old as you are,” she said sternly, “but you are not allowed to play pro wrestling in the house. Or anywhere, unless you’re with your Aunt Ayame and she’s taken you to her dad’s gym again. Understand me?”

Axel gave a petulant glance toward the floor. A glance that looked so familiar that it nearly made Kagome crack up and forget that she was trying to do the mom thing right now. “Yes, Mom,” he mumbled.

“Now apologize to Mimi.”

Axel looked over at his sister, who was still hanging on Inuyasha’s hip. He looked truly downtrodden and regretful, and it made Kagome want to just envelop him in her arms and cuddle him, but no, she couldn’t, because that would undermine her whole speech just now -

“I’m sorry, Mimi.”

Inuyasha’s angry expression finally relaxed into general peevedness.

“If you want,” Axel continued, “You can hit me back.”

Dammit, Axel.

“No one is hitting anybody,” Kagome said, gripping Axel’s shoulder tightly enough so he knew she meant it. “Axel, you’re not hitting Mimi, and Mimi, you don’t hit Axel. Are we clear?”

Mimi nodded. Axel just bit his lip.

“Axel!” Inuyasha said sharply.

“I got it, Dad. I’m sorry.” Axel glanced up at Kagome then, those blue eyes of his shining. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll never do it again.”

By the look on Inuyasha’s face, he was buying it just as much as Kagome was. She sent her husband a wink as she said, “Better not.”

“Well,” Inuyasha grumbled as he pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it onto their bed before reaching for the dress shirt he had laid next to it, “Guess that rules out taking the kids to the park this weekend. All we need is for some fucking paps to see that huge honking bruise on Mimi’s arm and then there’ll be headlines for weeks about possible abuse in our household.”

Kagome didn’t respond for several seconds.

“Baby?” He turned and glanced over his shoulder.

She was standing there at her vanity in her bra and jeans, bracing herself upright with both arms and shaking with silent laughter.

He couldn’t help it; he broke into a confused grin. “What the hell are you laughing about?”

She just laughed harder and doubled over over the table. “He - he suplexed her! He physically picked her up and just - “ She mimicked the move, throwing her arms backward over her head, cackling to herself. “I know, I know, it’s not funny and I shouldn’t be laughing and we’re so lucky she didn’t break her arm, but that mental image of Axel just - “ She covered her mouth with one hand and her bare stomach with the other.

“You are terrible,” he chuckled, turning back to the dress shirt and moving to throw it over his shoulders.

“Not my fault he’s exactly like his dad,” she said, “An idiot.”

“Hmph,” he huffed, reaching for the buttons.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Suddenly, Kagome’s hand was on his chest, and she stood there with a huge grin on her face and ran it up and down over his abs. Her touch was light, caressing. “Let me appreciate.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake - “

“Shh,” she said with mock severity, “I just need a moment. Let me have this.”

“You perv,” he said, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers with a mischievous smirk, “Don’t worry. You can have all you want later tonight.”

Kagome’s smile was bright and dazzling as always, with the dimple on her cheek that he loved so much on full display. “Promise?”

He kissed her, and her arms snaked upward around his neck, pulling him closer with a small, delighted squeak.

“Hey, hey, cut that shit out,” he scolded, knowing he likely had a huge stupid smile on his face and not particularly caring, “You - we- have to get dressed. Miroku and Sango and the twins are due here in a few minutes. I mean, unless you wanna go out like that.”

Kagome glanced down at her bra and jeans ensemble. “Hmm, maybe not,” she said with a smirk, “Alright, alright, I’m getting dressed. But you owe me!”

Everything, he thought, watching her as she darted into the closet.

It was so hard to concentrate on the road. Miroku knew he deserved several medals.

The twins were chattering in baby talk in the backseat (twin talk, Sango called it), they were on their fiftieth reprise of goddamn “Wheels on the Bus” playing on the car stereo, and his gorgeous wife was next to him in the front seat in a very short mini-dress with her immaculate legs on full display. And of course, with his wife being the absolute badass she was, she was in the middle of a phone call with a studio executive, not even batting an eye at the cacophony of noise around her.

Finally, mercifully, they arrived at the Takahashi palace and buzzed through the gate. Another seven or so minutes of unloading the kids, the diaper bags, the snack packs (the one thing he hadn’t been prepared for when he became a father - all the stuff they required wherever they went), all of it.

“Need a hand?” Kagome poked her head out of the front door.

“Of course not,” Miroku said, grinning through the bag strap caught between his teeth, his speech muffled, “We’re experts. King and Queen of Parenting.”

“Hey, Kagome!” Sango had both twin girls by the hand and was gently walking them up toward the door. “Is Kanna here yet?”

“She’s on her way. She and Kohaku left right as you guys did, so it should be any minute.” Kagome bent to pick up Kimmy, the younger of the twins, who as of lately was obsessed with her Aunt Kagome and had already been reaching out for her.

“Thank god,” Miroku said through his gritted teeth, stumbling under the weight of all the bags. Suddenly the ever-wonderful Nazuna also appeared through the open doorway, and she immediately took a few of them off his hands. “And thank you, Nazuna.”

Nazuna grinned and disappeared back into the house.

“Any paps at the gate?” Kagome said, peering off in the direction of the entrance to the property, which was hidden behind the hill. Her smile was a little tighter.

“No,” Sango said, “Why? Expecting some?”

Kagome visibly sighed. “We always get a few whenever Kikyou’s back in the press. She announced her new movie this morning, but then again, you probably knew that. It’s sort of you guys’ jobs to know everything.” She turned and led them into the house, and Nazuna, ever ready and devoted, shut the door behind all of them.

“She should be sending you two royalty checks,” Miroku grumbled, “You’ve single-handedly kept her an object of interest in the public eye for the last eight years.” He let the bags dropped and cracked his shoulder. Man, I’m getting old. Just kill me now.

Sango discreetly elbowed him in the side. “Kagome, if you’d rather not go out tonight, that’s okay, we can just - “

“Hell no!” Kagome said, “Oh, I mean, heck no.” She wrinkled her nose and nuzzled at Kimmy’s face. “I made a promise to myself long ago. I’m going to live my life and be happy. Best revenge is living well, right?”

Miroku reached out and ruffled Kagome’s hair. “You’re so mature, Kagome. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She rolled her eyes.

There was the sound of lumbering footsteps, like a stampede.

Kagome shook her head and laughed. “Well, here comes the cavalry.”

And then they appeared around the corner. Mini Inuyasha and Mini Kagome, he called them.

“Kimmy and Ally are here!” shouted Axel, barrelling toward the crowd of them, and for a heart-stopping instant Miroku had a vision of the kid just failing to stop and knocking them all down like bowling pins, but the boy skidded to a stop in his white cotton socks. His silver-white hair was sticking out all over the place. Mini Inuyasha to the core.

Mimi, the little angel, was clearly doing her best to keep up with her big brother but was defeated by her shorter legs. She grinned up at the adults with pure delight. “Uncle Moku!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, feeling his stone heart just melt as he bent to pick her up for a hug. “How are you?”

“Axel spooplexed me!” She held out her arm excitedly, showing off an ugly bruise running down her arm.

“...He what, now?”

“Long story,” Inuyasha said, appearing from the bedroom hallway in a smart tailored suit. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“Uh-huh.” Sango had on her skeptical face.

“Hi, Aunt Sango,” said Axel briefly before turning his attention to Ally, who was still clutching her mother’s hand. “Hi, Ally!”

“Yep, sure,” Miroku grumbled, “Hi, how are you, Axel, my name is Chopped Liver.”

Kagome and Sango giggled, and Miroku turned to glare at them. “Thanks for all the support, ladies, really. Axel, I like your shirt. What does it say?”

Axel gave him a look like he was the biggest idiot in the world and held out the shirtfront to display the writing. “It says ‘AC/DC.’”

Well, excuse the hell out of me, mini Inuyasha.

The phone rang, and Nazuna appeared seemingly from out of nowhere to answer it. “Kanna’s here,” she announced, hanging up.

“So their snacks are in the purple - no, the blue bag,” Sango scrolled through her list, brow furrowed in concentration, “and they’re just starting potty training so we’ve got pull-ups, but I’d put them in real diapers before you put them down for the night. The portable playpen has a roll-out mattress, so you can use that, but no pillows, just a thin blanket.”

Leave it to Sango to make a bulleted list for a few hours’ worth of childcare. Inuyasha sent Kagome a smirk across the room, and she smiled back.

Kanna, meanwhile, was listening intently. Or maybe that was just her face. After eight years of knowing the kid, it was still hard to tell.

Inuyasha glanced just behind her at Kohaku, whose nieces were currently latched onto both of his hands and dragging him around the living room while babbling excitedly. He looked tired already. Welcome to my life, kid.

“You’re spending the night, right?” Kagome asked Kanna when Sango finally seemed satisfied that she’d covered everything. “I don’t know how late we’ll be, or if we’ll have to wait for our table - “

“Kagome,” Miroku was at the bar mixing himself a scotch and seltzer, “You’re married to the most famous movie star in the world. If we have to wait for a table, I’m getting new friends to leech off of.”

“Well, anyway,” Kagome sent Miroku a brief look and continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Your room is all ready to go. Clean sheets, bath towels if you want to shower, et cetera.”

“And no scary movies with the kids awake,” Inuyasha added. That had been a point of contention last time Kanna had babysat.

Kanna turned and fixed him with that unsettling stare. “I’m sorry you think ‘The Crow’ is scary. I thought it was a beautiful love story.”

“It is literally about coming back from the dead to murder people.”

She gave a minute shrug. “You’re the parents.”

“We did it!” Miroku sank into the backseat as if he had lost all feeling in his limbs. “We’re actually going. Nothing went wrong.”

“Don’t jinx it, you idiot!” There was the sound of a gentle smack from the backseat.

“Oooh, do that again.”

“Houshi?”

“Yes, Mrs. Houshi?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Kagome glanced over at Inuyasha. He was shaking his head and chuckling under his breath as he put the car in gear and started down the driveway.

As they approached, they saw them.

The flashes. Just a few, maybe three or four, but they were going off like crazy.

“Ugh,” Kagome said, running a hand over her face, “I knew it.”

“It’ll be alright, baby,” Inuyasha said, reaching over to brush his hand over her knee, “One of the perks of living the life we do - exclusive hidden entrances.”

She knew the car windows were heavily tinted, that there would be no clear images in any of the ill-gotten photos, but she still found herself instinctively slouching lower as they passed through the gate.

“Who’s performing tonight, anyway?” Kagome asked, looping her fingers around her frosted glass of beer, looking around the crowded club.

It was decorated much like an old-timey nightclub from Hollywood’s golden age, with an enormous dance floor and a stage with a huge brass band.

“Not any metal bands, that’s for sure,” Miroku smirked as he tossed back the last of his whiskey-on-the-rocks. “Sorry, Kagome. How will you ever survive?”

Kagome tossed her napkin at his face from across the table. “Sango, can I kill him and make you a widow?”

Sango was perusing the food menu and didn’t miss a beat. “I just took out extra life insurance on him,” she said, “Give me one more month so it doesn’t look suspicious.”

“Ha!” Miroku scoffed, leaning in to kiss Sango’s cheek, “You’d never do that. You’d miss me too much. Plus you’d have to raise the twins by yourself.”

“A good life insurance payout would finance an awesome nanny.”

Inuyasha snaked an arm around Kagome’s waist and leaned back against the booth. She leaned into him, laying her head gently against his shoulder.

She was so beautiful. And he loved her so goddamn much. And the night was just beginning.

Could anything ever ruin an evening like this? He voiced the thought in his head.

And then there was a small commotion, raising the general volume of the already noisy room. The four of them craned their heads to follow the noise.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sango spat, her brown eyes narrowed with unfiltered rage.

What was that thing Sango said earlier about not jinxing it? Way to go, you absolute moron.

It was the first time they’d seen Kikyou in the flesh in nearly eight years, not counting passing glimpses on red carpets and the constant onslaught of her image all over the television all the time. Miroku and Sango, ever loyal to their most famous and money-making client, had always firmly emphasized to every single event organizer and bigshot that under no circumstances should Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi ever be seated near or forced to interact with Kikyou Higurashi. And it had always worked.

But, of course, fate had a way of fucking with the best-laid plans, right?

“Of all the nightclubs in LA,” Sango hissed, “She picked this one? I call bullshit. This is no coincidence.” She turned to Kagome and Inuyasha, clearly in full protective mode. “Did you tell anyone where we were going tonight?”

“Of course not!” Kagome said.

“We’re not stupid,” Inuyasha muttered, pulling Kagome a little closer.

Miroku, long finished with his own drink, reached over and took a generous sip of Sango’s, a troubled frown on his face.

Kikyou, looking angelic as she always had, waited for her date to pull out her chair before taking a seat, the skirt of her ruby red evening gown billowing around her. She was smiling at all the attention, all the whispers. The Queen, holding court. Some things never fucking change, do they?

“Does she see us?” Kagome said softly. Her black-polished fingers were awkwardly fiddling with her necklace, and she was staring down at the white-clothed table.

“I don’t know,” Inuyasha replied truthfully, then leaned closer to whisper, “Do you wanna go?”

The fidgeting stopped, and her nervous stare hardened into a steely glower. “No,” she said softly, “I don’t know what her goal is, what she’s planning, but she is not ruining my Valentine’s Day.” She sat up a little straighter and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Fuck it.”

Before anyone else could say something, the music flared up, and the entire club broke into applause.

Miroku raised his hand to signal for another round of drinks.

And here I was, about to ask Kagome to dance, Inuyasha thought glumly.

The music was sultry and jazzy. Definitely not Kagome’s usual vibe (not enough leather and studs and screaming high notes), but nice enough for a change. It all felt very fancy, which she realized was an ironic thought for half of one of the wealthiest couples in Hollywood to have. But then again, we’ve always been low-key, I guess. She snuck a glance down at her husband’s brand new Rolex watch. ...Well, relatively so.

She pointedly refused to look over at Kikyou, so she had no idea if Kikyou was looking back.

But then of course, her estranged older sister made it clear that she wanted to dance, and so there was no keeping her out of Kagome’s peripheral.

How did she find out where we were going? Sango’s right; this is no coincidence. Kikyou just announced a new movie this morning, and if there’s one thing she knows, it’s how to get press attention.

Inuyasha seemed to be thinking the same thing as she was, because he watched Kikyou laughingly get spun around by the poor idiot she’d convinced to date her with a very suspicious glare.

“I can’t stand this bullshit,” Sango spat, now well into her third strong drink of the evening.

“You and me both, babe.” Miroku had his mouth full of some overpriced appetizer and was chewing thoughtfully.

Sango set her glass down and placed both palms on the tabletop, as if she could take no more. “Houshi, c’mon,” she muttered, “We’re dancing.”

Miroku swallowed, looking like she’d just told him she was, in fact, an alien from Mars. “Sango, babe, you don’t dance. You’ve insisted that to me about twenty-three thousand, one hundred fifty times since we got married.”

“I dance now,” she hissed, glaring over at the back of Kikyou’s head, “Right now. How else am I gonna trip this bitch and make her wipe out on the dance floor?”

“I love you so much,” Miroku said, throwing down his napkin and following her out of the booth.

Kagome gave a muted smile at Inuyasha, who in return leaned over and kissed her. “You’re still having fun, right?” he murmured, so close she could feel his breath ghosting over her lips, “I know it’s not our normal sort of date night, but I figured once in a blue moon we could be hoity-toity celebrity people, you know?”

“It is fun,” she insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face lovingly. “I promise I’m having a great time.”

He didn’t look certain, and she knew he was worried. It was adorable. He was such a teddy bear underneath it all.

“I was gonna ask you to dance, of course,” he said, flicking his head back toward the dance floor behind them, “but I’m sure you don’t want to open that whole can of worms, right?”

“That can of worms was never fully closed in the first place,” Kagome said, once again letting herself settle against his shoulder, “I don’t know if it ever will be. Things are rarely ever that simple in the real world. Life isn’t a blockbuster movie.”

Inuyasha seemed to have no real reply to that, because he just kissed the top of her head and raised his glass to take another sip.

And for some reason, when Kagome saw the glum expression on his face that he was trying so desperately to hide for her sake, she felt her resolve turn to steel once again.

She nudged him, and he nearly choked on an ice cube.

“Oops, sorry!” She couldn’t help the laugh as she reached up with a napkin to wipe the whiskey off his chin.

“What gives?” he grumbled, “Trying to kill me, I see.”

“No, I don’t have any extra life insurance on you. Well, actually, the one policy we do have is more than enough. I could live for the rest of my days quite comfortably. Hey, let’s go dance!”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, let’s fucking do it.”

Inuyasha quirked an eyebrow at her. He wasn’t buying what she was selling, clearly. “You know she’s going to see us and try to make a thing of it,” he said slowly, “Why give her the opportunity?”

“I have a plan. One that doesn’t involve tripping her, as tempting as Sango’s idea was.”

“Babe, I know you’re on a mission from Satan right now,” Miroku said softly into her ear, “but could you at least stop with that terrifying expression on your face? And also maybe look at me instead, so we can enjoy our romantic dance and you won’t keep stomping all over my feet with those spike heels.”

Sango blinked away from where she was glaring daggers at Kikyou over Miroku’s shoulder and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m just marking the territory here.”

“That makes it sound like you’re a dog going to the - “

“Houshi?”

“Yes, Mrs. Houshi?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, but you’re getting twirled in three, two, one…”

“Wait, what?” Sango stumbled as he sent her spinning under his arm. “Houshi, cut it out, I’m trying to be intimidating here!” She caught herself roughly using his arms to brace herself and resumed her death glare over his shoulder. “Oh, good, she saw me. I want her to know we know she knows we’re here.”

“Run that last sentence by me again?” Miroku sighed, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his wife’s temple.

“I said I want her to know we know she knows - oh, never mind.” Sango’s mind was clearly elsewhere, but she still leaned forward for another kiss even as she kept her eyes on Kikyou across the dance floor. It’s my animal magnetism, Miroku thought with a smirk. She can’t resist me even now. I am a god among men.

Before Miroku had the chance to whisper something filthy into her ear, her grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened painfully. “Hoooooly shit,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his, “Kagome and Inuyasha are coming to dance.”

“This should be good.”

“How is this possibly good?”

“Maybe Kagome will punch her like she punched you that one time.”

From his vantage point he could see her ears turn a little pink. “You promised you’d never mention that again, asshole.”

“You know I love you, right?” he laughed.

“I know, dammit. You still suck, though.”

Kagome and Inuyasha had taken a place next to them, in full view of Kikyou. Sango glanced across the floor again, and she could swear she saw Kikyou’s eyes light up even as she pretended to be entirely focused on the poor bastard she’d conned into thinking she was a nice person.

“You guys know she sees you, right?” Sango whispered at them.

“Who cares,” said Kagome dreamily, gazing up at her much-taller husband as he pulled her closer.

“Let her see,” Inuyasha said, clearly on the same page.

Sure enough, Kikyou was starting to be more obvious as she kept her eyes on the couple, even craning her neck around to avoid breaking the gaze a few times.

“What’s she doing?” Miroku asked, still facing away from the entire scene.

“She’s sweating,” Sango said, “She can’t stand it.”

“Ten-four. Okay, twirling again, three, two - “

“Houshi, not again - “

“One!”

“Dammit, you are the worst when I’m trying to concentrate!”

The song ended, and all the dancers on the floor paused to applaud the band, who took a brief bow and waved their thanks before breaking into a faster, swing-style number.

It seemed Kikyou was relishing the growing whispers and points from the rest of the clubgoers, and the opportunity was too hard to pass up, so she steered her poor date closer. Close enough to where they were dancing right beside Kagome and Inuyasha.

The targets in question, however, were pointedly ignoring her. They were spinning around quickly, Kagome’s movements a little clumsy and inexperienced, Inuyasha being the stalwart teacher and helping her through it. They were laughing and happy and clearly lost in each other’s eyes. It was a true Hallmark moment. The stuff of greeting cards and terribly-plotted Christmas movies.

“They are so fucking cute, by the way,” she whispered into Miroku’s ear.

“You say that all the time.”

“It’s true, though. Oh, god, here she goes.” Sango couldn’t help it, she stopped still and quit her imitation of dancing altogether.

There was a thumping sound as Miroku stumbled. “Really, Sango?”

“Shhhh!” She held tightly onto him.

“Kagome?”

Kagome fought back the snort of laughter. Here we go. She sent Inuyasha a wink, and he smirked.

They both kept dancing, and Inuyasha twirled her around to face Kikyou for just a moment before spinning her back inward toward him.

Kikyou stood there, exuding an aura of meek kindness and humility, clasping her hands in front of her with an overjoyed smile on her face.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, blinking innocently, “I’ve missed you.”

Kagome didn’t answer, just kept looking up into her husband’s face with a fond smile.

“I get asked about you two all the time.” Kikyou kept plugging away. “I always tell people that I’m so happy for you both. And for your two kids. I’d love to meet them someday.”

There was an angry flash in Inuyasha’s eyes at the mention of Axel and Mimi, and Kagome quelled it by leaning up to kiss him. Then she craned her neck to glance at Kikyou.

“Nope!” she said brightly.

Kikyou’s smiling facade slipped only briefly before she recovered. “Are we really going to keep this going forever, Kagome? Mom wouldn’t be happy that you’re being so unforgiving. No matter what, we’re still family.”

Kagome grinned even wider. “Nope!”

Inuyasha pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as he pulled her closer again.

Kikyou’s smile faded for real this time. “I just want a relationship with you two, whatever it might be. And with your beautiful children.”

Of course you do. You want to play the doting aunt, the martyr of a failed relationship who was magnanimous enough to bury the hatchet. In full view of the paparazzi cameras, of course.

“Nope!”

“So it’s like that.” Kikyou apparently was going to try for the pity route now. She closed her eyes sadly, heaving a gentle sigh. “Well, I can at least give you my number, and you can call me if you ever change your mind.”

Inuyasha pulled Kagome over the crook of his arm and dipped her low, leaning over her body to come face-to-face with Kikyou. The first time they’d been face-to-face since...well, Kagome couldn’t remember, but it was definitely before she and Inuyasha had gotten married eight years ago.

He gave Kikyou his best, most charming smile, the smile that Kagome had witnessed firsthand sending a crowd of fangirls into shrieks and fainting spells. Kikyou’s sadness faded immediately, as her public moods seemed to do all too often, and she smiled warmly back.

Can’t appeal to me so you’re gonna try my husband instead. Classy.

Inuyasha kept the smile going for another few seconds, and then opened his mouth to speak. Kikyou seemed to visibly hold her breath, sure that her charms were working.

“Nope.” And the smile widened into a perhaps-overly-satisfied grin.

The hopeful, beaming look on Kikyou’s lovely face once again was wiped away. All the friendly facade was gone, and her face pinched in anger.

“Fine. Enjoy your life with my husband, Kagome.”

Inuyasha gave an exaggerated expression of confusion as he looked down at Kagome. “Um,” he called after Kikyou’s quickly retreating back, “I’m her husband.” He touched the tip of his finger to Kagome’s nose, and she burst into laughter. He followed suit, still looking bewildered.

“No, but really,” he said through his laughter, looking down at her from his far greater height, “I did marry you, right? I’m not just dreaming, or high, or drunk, or - “

“You married me,” Kagome said with a loving smile.

“Thank god. She just called me her fucking husband and I thought maybe all of the last eight years had been some sort of weird perfect dream.”

“She wanted the movie star,” Kagome said, leaning up to kiss him, “I wanted the man.”

“Sango, babe, you gotta stand up, I can’t hold you up much longer!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - “

Oh god, Miroku thought, struggling to pull his wife to her feet as she doubled over in loud, obnoxious laughter, they broke her. She broke.

“I’m gonna be so sore in the morning,” Kagome whispered as she gently kicked off her high heels, “How you manage to walk around in these every day will always mystify me, Sango.”

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” Sango whispered back, though Kagome didn’t miss the happy sigh she gave when her bare feet were planted firmly on the tile floor.

“What time is it, Inuyasha?” Kagome leaned back into her husband’s chest, now once again a full head shorter than him.

He checked his Rolex. “Three am.”

“Everyone’s probably asleep, then. I’m sure Kanna and Kohaku are too. I guess it all went alright here?”

Inuyasha smirked as he glanced around the dimly-lit living room. “I don’t see anything on fire,” he said, “Small victories.”

“I’m beat,” Miroku mumbled, “Where are you putting us up for the night?”

“East wing, anywhere,” Kagome replied. “Find a bedroom. They’re all ready to go.”

“Why you people need this many rooms in a house with five people in it, I’ll never know.”

“So we can host freeloaders like you,” Inuyasha retorted, his hand reaching around Kagome’s shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Ah, that’s fair.” Miroku slipped an arm around Sango’s waist and bent to lift her in his arms, bridal-style. She clearly wasn’t ready for it and let out a squeak of surprise, fighting him off. “Ow, Sango, ow, ow, please stop, my back isn’t what it used to be and you’re making this harder - “

“Put me down, Houshi! What the hell are you thinking?” Sango was obviously still trying very hard to whisper.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Gotta be all romantic and shit. Gotta seduce you. Are you seduced yet?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake - “

“Just let me do this, please. If I put you down now it’ll be like I gave up.”

“...Fine.”

Kagome bit her lip, fighting back even more laughter as Sango gave an embarrassed little half-wave over Miroku’s shoulder, and they disappeared down the hallway.

“He knows how big our house is, right?” Kagome leaned back and whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“He’ll remember in a few seconds.” Inuyasha flashed that trademark smirk of his once again. “Well, now I feel like I should carry you to our bedroom. Because it’s farther. And I want to win.”

Kagome snorted. “Let’s do it.”

He bent to lift her, but she shrugged out of his grasp and ducked around behind him, jumping onto his back and linking her arms around his shoulders.

“I know I always say this,” he said with a laugh as they started down the hall toward the master bedroom, “but I’m so glad you’re a shrimp of a human being.”

They passed through the threshold and closed the door, and then he paused, facing their bed with her still linked around his back. Kagome was just about to try and lower herself into a standing position when suddenly, Inuyasha bent forward at the waist, using his hands to flip her over his head and onto the bedspread. “SUPLEX!”

Kagome shrieked with laughter as she landed in an unceremonious heap on the soft bed covers. “Now I know where Axel gets it! It wasn’t Ayame corrupting him at all, it was his dad the whole time!”

Inuyasha smirked at her devilishly as he slid onto the bed after her, crouching over her, his lips just brushing hers. “At least I didn’t throw you into a wall.”

“If you did I would destroy you.”

“Oh, I’m scared.”

“I’m serious,” she said, leaning up to give him a kiss even as she was still shaking with laughter, “I’m talking scorched earth. Not even a body to bury.”

He took her face in both hands and pulled her in to deepen the kiss, and she tangled her fingers in his long silvery hair.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kiddo,” he murmured when they parted to catch their breath.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jerkface.”

“Dad,” Axel said at breakfast the next morning, “Did the Purry-tans really kill a lot of witches?”

The crowded breakfast table all paused mid-bite, except for Kanna, naturally, and Inuyasha nearly choked into his morning coffee.

“The who, honey?” Kagome asked, gently brushing an affectionate hand over her son’s hair.

“The Purry-tans. Like in the movie.”

Inuyasha gave a pointed gaze down to the other end of the table, where Kanna was on her third bowl of Froot Loops cereal and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Miroku and Sango and Kagome all exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“What movie?” Inuyasha asked, still giving Kanna the stare-down of the century.

“‘The Crucible,’” Kanna replied matter-of-factly, “You said nothing scary, so I went with educational instead.”

“Aren’t people shown being executed in that movie?”

“Yes,” Kanna said, as next to her, Kohaku looked about ready to slide under the table in mortification, “Just as they were in the historical record.”

“So it really did happen?” Axel asked insistently. “It seems like an awful way to die.”

“It was indeed,” Kanna answered him. “A great injustice, in my opinion.”

Inuyasha planted both elbows on the table and smushed his hands over his face, mumbling something that sounded like “God dammit, Kanna.”

“What did you say, Dad?”

“N-Nothing. Finish your breakfast, kid.”

THAT’S IT! Hope you like it Lia! <3 Also tagging @dyaz-stories because she also was a very faithful and amazing follower of this story. I don’t know who else to tag because honestly I don’t actually know if any of the rest of y’all have read it lol OH ALSO @cstorm86 I SAW THAT YOU READ IT TOO

#fanfiction #inukag #valentines day #the it couple #this was honestly so fun #like coming home to my comedic roots #if you're wondering why they don't want to talk to kikyou #it's a long story #trust me she's the worst

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