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zablife · 1 year

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A Gift for My Wife

Tommy Shelby x wife reader

Summary: Tommy wants to surprise his wife with an extravagant surprise after the birth of their new baby, but things don’t go to plan.

Author’s Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time ’s Holiday BINGO Challenge. I used the prompts: a confession, hurt/comfort, a family tradition and forced proximity.

Warnings: language, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, lots of fluff

Looking out from behind the curtains of the nursery, you stared longingly at the stables. It had been months since you’d given up your daily rides with your husband and you missed the time with him desperately. The tiny bundle in your arms shifted beneath her blankets, cooing softly to break your reverie. You smiled down at her, heart swelling with pure love. You didn’t resent a moment of the time you’d given up for her, but you were aching to return to your first passion.

Like Tommy, you’d learned to ride as a child and it was something you’d bonded over when you first met. Even as Tommy’s empire grew, he always made time in his busy schedule to go riding with you because it was a way of staying connected. You would discuss your hopes and dreams for the future or simply make each other laugh as you stayed in constant competition over who was the better rider.

The tradition stood for three years until the day you learned you were pregnant. You’d wanted a family for so long, neither of you wanted to take any chances when it came to your child. So you’d given up riding in favor of time in the library. However, it quickly devolved into watching Tommy work as you read a book and the interaction wasn’t the same.

Tommy had seen your distant look as you sat across from him, but didn’t know how to rekindle the spark until he heard news of the Doncaster Blood Stock. It gave him a wonderful idea to give you a gift in exchange for the most precious gift you’d ever given him, his beautiful baby girl. He wasn’t known for grand, romantic gestures, but this occasion called for something unique so he made a call, smiling to himself as he thought of taking you on a special outing.

One week later, you kissed the baby goodbye and bundled yourself into a warm coat, waving goodbye to Frances. Tommy placed his hand on your knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “She’ll be alright for one day, love,” and you nodded in agreement.

“Won’t you tell me where we’re going?” you said with a nervous giggle. This was very unlike your husband.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he answered, flicking his cigarette out the window.

When you arrived at the horse auction, your heart thrilled with excitement. Tommy offered you his arm and you pulled yourself closer to your husband as people bustled all around you. “Tommy, I don’t understand. We can’t afford another horse right now,” you pointed out, always the voice of reason.

“Well, we can have a look, can’t we? No law against that,” he said, guiding you up the stairs in front of him.

“This is awfully expensive window shopping,” you said, but you secretly loved the idea of viewing all the thoroughbreds.

When you’d found a place in the gallery overlooking the ring, you leaned over the railing for a better look. Then you took time to survey the room. Men were marking papers and reviewing documents around you. “What are they doing?” you asked.

Tommy lit a cigarette, blowing smoke over his shoulder as he surreptitiously glanced at the man to his right. “Those are reports from the vet,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You mean you don’t get to run hands over them first?” you asked, remembering how Curly liked to inspect a new horse.

“No, that’s not the way the toffs do it,” Tommy said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “They like their paperwork.”

“What’s your method then?” you asked with a curious smile playing on your lips.

“I keep an eye open when they walk,” he said gesturing toward the ring with his cigarette. “That’s all I need to know,” he said with a small nod.

Just then a beautiful quarter Arab filly was lead out. Her coat shone in the light as she regally made her way beneath you and you instantly saw what Tommy meant. “Oh, Tommy, she’s lovely!” you exclaimed.

At a small table at the far end of the ring an auctioneer in a bowler hat and little round spectacles announced, “Morals of Marcus, Sedgemere stud by Tetrach out of Lady Josephine. We’ll start the bidding at 800 guineas.”

Tommy could tell by the way your eyes shone watching the horse, this was the one. As you turned to smile at him, you noticed him give a nod to a woman across from you. She was obviously wealthy, dressed in a black fur trimmed coat and fashionable gray hat. For a moment you wondered if she was there with her husband, but one look at her loose curls and smoky eyes made you realize she was far too glamourous. No, she was someone’s mistress or looking to become one. You shifted your weight uncomfortably, closing your coat around yourself, suddenly feeling unattractive by comparison.

The woman raised her hand to bid, then the man next to you raised his, inciting a bidding war. “Bloody May Carleton, what’s that spoiled little bitch doing here besides driving up the prices?” he hissed to his companion.

“With Ian gone, she’s taken on quite a few new clients. Heard she's here today spending some new man's money,” his friend informed him. You swallowed harshly, suspicions confirmed.

As the gavel fell, everyone clapped for May. She smiled sweetly at Tommy as the man beside you threw down his paper in disgust. You couldn’t blame him as you felt the same. Turning to Tommy you begged for him to take you home.

“Don’t you want to stay to see the other horses, darling?” Tommy asked with furrowed brow.

“No, I’m feeling very tired all of a sudden,” you said and Tommy took your elbow to help you down the stairs. As he did, you met May by the stairs.

“Mr. Shelby, lovely to see you. Have you and Mrs. Shelby enjoyed the auction?” she chirped.

“We have,” he replied simply, turning to leave.

“Just a moment,” she called out. “Would you mind accompanying me to the offices?”

“I’m sorry that won’t be possible. We’re on our way home, Ms. Carleton,” Tommy said with a tip of his hat. Your cheeks burned as you realized your husband knew this woman and your heart ached at the thought that perhaps he knew her a bit better than you’d care to admit.

You rode in silence most of the way home, looking out the window as it rained. Finally Tommy spoke up asking, “Y/n, what’s wrong? You’ve barely spoken since the auction. Are you worried about the baby, love?”

Facing your husband with tears in your eyes you said, “No, I’m not worried about her, Tommy. I’m worried about us. How do you know May Carleton so well?”

Tommy gave you a puzzled look. Why would you be so concerned about May and how did you know her first name? “I don’t know her all that well honestly,” Tommy said, unsure why it mattered to you.

Frustration and humiliation spiking, you huffed, “Pull over, Tom. I want out of this car right now!”

“Are you insane? It’s freezing, you’ll catch a cold,” Tommy said, unwilling to pull over.

“I can’t stand to be in the car with you another minute if you’re going to lie to me!” you screamed at him.

Tommy looked at you in shock before allowing the car to drift into a ditch. You clutched for the door handle, but he slid over the bench seat, grabbing you by the shoulders before you could get away.

You shook him off saying, “Let me go! You don’t even want me anymore!”

“Hey, hey…look at me,” he said, grabbing your chin. “Where’s this coming from, eh?”

You broke down crying as you reached into your purse for a handkerchief. “May,” you said in a weak voice. “Tell me the truth. Is she your mistress?” you asked looking up at him with red, watery eyes.

“Fuck, is that what you think?” Tommy asked, running his hands through his hair. He’d never considered what it might look like when he asked May to help him bid on the horse. “May is a horse trainer, love. She breeds racehorses with her father.”

“She’s not a whore then?” you asked with a sniffle.

Tommy surpressed a laugh as he shook his head. “No, she’s a joint owner of Carleton Stud. Look, I can prove it,” he said, quickly fishing a business card from his pocket.

You studied it carefully, seeing what Tommy said was true. Suddenly you felt very foolish, having accused your husband of having an affair.

Tommy pulled you into his chest, stroking your hair away from your face. “You’ve been so selfless giving up the thing you love most to look after our daughter. I wanted to do something for you in return and I thought a horse would be the perfect gift. I thought of asking May to choose because she would pick only the best, but I wanted to be sure you approved. I’m sorry, the secrecy of it all made you think…” he trailed off unable to say the words.

You smiled against his shirt front, his vulnerability catching you off guard. You knew in that moment he would never think of cheating with May or anyone and you were ashamed of allowing your jealousy to reign over you. “It’s such a wonderful gift,” you praised him, thanking him for his loyalty more than the horse in the moment, though he didn’t know it at the time.

Then you realized the horse you’d seen might actually be yours. Sitting up with a jerk you asked. “Tommy, does that mean the filly is ours?”

He grinned at you widely, stroking a thumb over your cheek as he nodded. “Yours, my darling. All yours.”

You threw your arms around his neck thanking him once again and peppered his face with kisses. “I can’t wait to go riding again,” you said eagerly.

“Neither can I. It will be sooner than you think. She’ll be delivered tomorrow,” he informed you. You bit your lip, squealing with excitement.

“Ready to go home now?” Tommy asked, starting the car. You nodded, thoughts of your child drifting back into your mind. Tommy mistook your pensive silence and decided to add one more detail for good measure.

“We don’t have to invite May,” Tommy said diplomatically as he pulled back onto the main road. “I love you, you know.”

You chuckled as you snuggled into his side. “Thank you, Tommy. I love you too.”

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@murderousginger

@madame-wilsonn

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x y/n #k's 2.5K holiday BINGO challenge #cillian murphy

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sabo-has-my-heart · 1 year

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A future with You

I...I don’t know what to say about this one. I got the idea, it’s very sad, and it’s my @onepiece-bingo entry for ‘Future’

Warnings: ANGST, death, vague mentions of sex and childbirth,

Word Count: 1370

When he pictured his future, this wasn’t how he’d imagined it. He’d imagined a wonderful life with you, filled with laughter, happiness, and watching movies all night. Putting his face in his hands, he thought of all the things he’d imagined. An apartment with you, not too small, not too big, something perfect for a couple and maybe a future child. Just a sweet newlywed couple, living a blissful life. Slow dancing with you in the kitchen while you tried to cook, romantic baths when he came home from a particularly long or stressful day, and cuddling together at night. Lots and lots of cuddling.

Pulling out his phone, he started scrolling through old pictures of the two of you. Sunny smiles on both your faces, silly gestures like making bunny ears on each other, you’d been so beautiful. His beautiful angel. Tears started running down his cheeks, blurring his vision as he closed the photo gallery. There were so many things he missed, so many things he’d planned. The perfect little proposal. Maybe he’d have taken you to a carnival and proposed to you at the top of the ferris wheel, or a nice restaurant with candles and some stupid heart shaped desert. Perhaps he’d take you where you’d first met, talk about all the wonderful times with you, any of them, so long as you said yes.

A sweet wedding with his friends and family, Marco or Sabo as his best man, you’d look beautiful in your wedding dress, like a goddess. He’d try not to cry as you said your ‘I do’s. The others would tease him later for crying, but it would all be good natured. They’d understand how happy he was. He’d scold Luffy for eating everything during the reception but you’d just laugh because somehow, somehow, you’d planned for this and there was enough food for everyone.

He’d take you on the most wonderful honeymoon, take you wherever you wanted, or around the entire world if you did so desire. Just the two of you in your own happy little world… and he’d make love to you. Every night for the entire honeymoon, he’d hold you close and make love to you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear as the two of you held each other, telling you again and again how much you meant to him and how much he loved you. And then you’d go home.

You’d go home to your cozy little apartment, you’d start your married life. You’d cook together, you’d giggle as you woke his sleepy ass up every morning, and giving each other kisses as you both left for work. He’d even thought about the bad times. Loud, angry shouting matches when you fought, giving him the cold shoulder until he wrapped his arms around you and apologized, caressing his cheek as you forgave each other. Maybe you’d both promise to be better or maybe it would be a silent agreement, no words, but never wanting to hurt each other again.

Every anniversary, every birthday, every special occasion, he’d decorate the house and get you the most amazing gifts because you deserved it, because you deserved the world. You’d laugh and tell him that all you needed was him and he’d wrap you up in a hug, telling you how sweet you were, how amazing you were. With each day, he’d become more and more dedicated to you, more and more in love with you.

And then it would happen. You’d wake up sick, you’d start pacing in worry, then you’d check and you’d look at him with a mix of worry and happiness as you told him the news. You’d tell him you were pregnant. And he’d pick you up and spin you around, so excited to be a dad. He’d be laughing and shouting with joy as tears ran down his cheeks. He’d immediately start thinking of baby names and picking out baby things. You’d put a hand on his arm every time he tried to buy something and tell him it was too soon to buy that particular thing. But the loving look in your eyes would tell him everything he needed to know, that you loved how much he cared, loved how attached he already was to this child.

Then you’d find out what gender it was, if you were going to have one child or more, and then he’d really start decorating. The two of you would perfectly decorate the baby’s room in all the perfect colors with all the perfect toys and furniture. He’d rub your growing stomach and talk to his child day and night. Any cravings, he’d get you, he’d rub your feet or your back, he’d help you get your shoes on because you were too big around to do it yourself. The loving looks you’d give him while he took care of everything for you, just knowing he’d make a great father.

And then on that day, that special day. He’d be there for you. He’d stay by your side and hold your hand and reassure you that he was right there with you. And he’d hear his baby’s cry and the doctor would tell them his baby’s gender even if you already knew and he’d fall in love with his child at first sight. Tears would run down his cheeks as he held his child or as he wrapped his arms around you while you held your child. He would hold his child while you slept, cooing at them and talking to them the entire time, even if they were asleep or didn’t understand, he’d just sit there and talk to them. He’d play with them constantly and rock them to sleep, he’d take care of them when you were tired and he’d teach them how to walk and talk.

When they were old enough to date he’d give them a man-to-man talk if they were a boy or help with ‘girl talk’ if they were girls. He’d scare away any potential boyfriends if they liked boys, or help them impress a girl if they liked girls. The two of you would grow old together, have grandkids, it would be a perfect life. Even if he fought with you often, even if you disagreed, or had your problems, it would be a perfect life.

His hand tightened around his phone. A perfect life that had fallen into imperfect crumbles. Shattering like glass, leaving him standing there in stunned, horrified silence, tears falling down his cheeks. He hadn’t even processed the fact that he was crying, even as his brothers pulled him into a comforting hug. His ears rang, blocking out any sound, any sound except the doctor’s words, words that repeated themselves again and again in his head. They did everything they could, they were sorry, you were gone.

And suddenly his warm, happy future was cold. His entire world was cold. Everything seemed to fall out from under him. He didn’t even remember how he’d gotten home that day, only that he sat there in his room, staring into space for days. Despite his best efforts, he’d been loudly sobbing at your funeral, but nobody said a word. They all understood how much he loved you.

Looking down at his phone again, the little charm on his phone caught his eye. You’d gotten matching phone charms. Charms that never left his phone, never left his side. He’d placed your phone charm in your hand at the funeral and he still kept his with him at all times. Gently fingering the little charm, his eyes widened in horror as the worn strap snapped under his touch. Had it really been so long since he’d gotten it that it had broken? Had it really become so worn that it could no longer hold on? And just like that, he broke down into sobs once more. It felt like another piece of you had been torn from his life, falling into the inky abyss of his memories. Another piece of you taken from him, only to become a memory of a happier time, of a time when he held you, of a time when he could dream about his future with you.

#one piece #one piece ace #op Ace #fire fist ace #hiken no ace #Portgas D. Ace #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #hiken no ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #angst

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nikki-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Beauty In the Blood - Part 6

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined…

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

Read part 5 here!

A/N: I’m really sorry for how long this update took. Life has been crazy and I’ve been crazier, but I did my best! Please let me know if you’re still enjoying the story. :) And thank you, truly, to anyone still interested in my writing! It means a lot more than y’all realize. :) (Also, WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT!)

Moving was never easy, especially in a city like New York. When you’d first moved into your quaint little brownstone, you’d hired a team of movers for this very reason, but even then, you hadn’t been able to escape the ordeal without a massive headache and a stubbed toe from a dropped box full of books.

So it shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see your partner in his current state – dressed the most casually you’d ever seen him, sweating through his simple white t-shirt, breathing heavily as he lugged box after box into his home with his hair pulled back in a man bun that he’d given you a death-glare for giggling at.

“I didn’t take you for such a hipster,” you’d joked, laughter only growing louder when Loki levelled you with a stare as cold as ice.

“If I catch you taking any photos of my current hair style,” he’d grumbled, “I’ll not only steal your phone but leave you to move all of this in by yourself.”

You’d felt your face heat up, knowing that a candid photo from that morning was already saved to your phone’s gallery and hoping he wouldn’t ever find it. With a smile, you’d leaned up to peck his cheek before grabbing one of the last boxes left.

“I would never take your picture in such a state of vulnerability.”

“Oh, come now, love. You know I can always tell when I’m being lied to.”

Despite the tedium of moving box after box into your new home, though, you were able to finish things up fairly quickly. You’d already stored your biggest items of furniture in a storage unit not too far away, so once the boxes were all inside and delegated to the rooms their contents would be going in, you found yourself sitting on the kitchen floor with Loki by early afternoon, enjoying the cool tile beneath you as you sipped tall glasses of ice water.

“Well,” he finally smiled, setting his empty glass on the counter behind him, “I suppose now I can officially welcome you home.”

You paused mid-sip, suddenly realizing that you were, in fact, home now. Looking around, you took in the space that you’d be sharing with the man who’d entered your life so unexpectedly, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement that you’d since become familiar with. When you’d told your friends and family that you’d be moving in with Loki, you hadn’t been surprised by the warnings you’d received.

You knew it was fast; you’d agreed to move in with Loki just two months ago, making it only half a year since having first met him. But none of them could understand – you had never felt this way with anyone before, and after looking for so long, you didn’t want to waste any time sharing your life with him. And, miraculously, he felt the same way. You’d never once had doubts that you were the only one between the two of you to feel so strongly, and while you knew there would be arguments and stressors that every relationship would encounter at some point, you had complete trust in Loki. The two of you would work it out, no matter what came up.

“I know that look,” you suddenly heard from beside you, and you jolted upon realizing you’d been staring into space for the last several moments. Loki had scooted closer to you on the floor, and you gave him a small smile as his eyes searched your features.

“You’re not having second thoughts, now, are you love?”

“No,” you were quick to reassure him. His eyebrows were furrowed, a line forming between them as he considered you, and you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips.

“I promise,” you sighed, setting your hand on his. “I’m right where I want to be. But it’s still so fast, you know? Six months ago I sincerely thought that I’d never find someone I wanted to be with. And now, here I am.”

“Here you are,” he echoed.

A pale hand reached out to grab yours, entwining your fingers as he leaned forward for a kiss deeper than the last. Shivers ran up your spine as you felt a cool tongue glide over your lower lip, and you opened up to him readily, drinking in his kiss eagerly as you pressed yourself against him.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself laid out on your back, skin naked and chilled against the floor as Loki’s tongue found another home between your legs. Fingers clenched in his hair, head thrown back in pleasure, you ground your hips upwards, the entire house filling with your moans and cries as you got closer and closer to your peak.

Until he pulled away, lips glistening with your juices, leaving you right on the precipice. A loud groan escaped your chest, frustration making you clench your teeth as your orgasm evaded you. Looking down, you saw Loki smirking as he watched your chest heave with gasping breaths; you knew he loved teasing you.

Ever since that first night together, it was like Loki had made it his personal mission to know your body inside out. It hadn’t taken him long, either, to be able to read you just like the books you wrote. He knew what it meant when your thighs clenched together, could hear how close you were in every breathy sigh you released. And he used that knowledge against you at every chance he got.

He would make you cum – he always made you cum – but he took his time getting there, especially when all you wanted was that sweet, blissful release you knew only he could give you. And most days, you would play right along, begging him the way you knew he liked, pleading with your words and eyes for his cock, his fingers, his tongue – anything that could give you what you wanted.

But for some reason, today was different. Maybe it was the exhaustion from moving, maybe it was from residual agitation from thinking about the doubts your loved ones had had about your relationship. But whatever the reason, the part of you that always submitted to him was replaced by the same part that had gripped his throat and rode his cock the very first time you had sex.

When you saw him smirking from between your legs, you moved quicker than your thoughts could, hands pressing at Loki’s shoulders until he fell backwards on the floor. Straddling him, your lips twisted upwards at the surprised expression on his face as you crawled up his body.

“No, Loki,” you purred, knees bracketing his chest as it began to rise and fall faster. “You’re gonna give me what I want today.”

His eyes narrowed immediately, studying you with a calculating stare that would have made you immediately stop and question what you were doing were it not for how his posture slowly began to relax. Laying back flat, he arched an eyebrow and set his hands on your thighs, wrapping his fingers around them to tug you closer by the back of your knees.

“Is that so, darling?” He licked his lips, eyes trailing up and down your naked form as you shifted your weight to come closer. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

With a grin, you grabbed his hair and tilted his head back, admiring his handsome features for a second before speaking.

“I’m going to ride that mouth so you can’t take it away from me again,” you purred, and god, did that elicit a reaction you weren’t expecting.

His pupils dilated as soon as you spoke those words, and with a growl he lunged upwards, greedily lapping once again at your pussy, focusing directly on your clit. You let out a surprised cry as your hips stuttered forwards, pressing down so he wouldn’t have to lean up as his tongue traced patterns against your bud that had your thoughts turning into white noise.

Gripping the lip of the counter behind him, you rocked your hips and closed your eyes, moaning his name over and over as you quickly reached that peak once again.

“Right there, right there- fuck, Loki, yes, yes, yes-!”

Your orgasm took you off guard, washing over you from head to toe as you screamed his name one last time, hips slowing gradually. His tongue, though, was still insistent as it moved against you, making the muscles in your legs jump as you tried to pull away.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so, love.”

You heard a growl from beneath you before the entire world was spinning, and you found yourself pushed down onto all fours as Loki positioned your knees apart, pressing down between your shoulder blades until you were resting your weight on your elbows.

“You wanted my mouth, and now you’re doing to get it.”

Holding your hips firmly in place, you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he leaned in again, making you jolt and try to press your thighs together as his tongue once more assaulted your sensitive clit. With a high-pitched wail, you grit your teeth and squirmed, the pleasure both intoxicating and too much all at once. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to pull away or press back against him, though you weren’t left with much of a choice with the way his hands were gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

It didn’t take long, though, before your overstimulated mewls became moans of pleasure once more, feeling another wave about to crest as he teased your cunt relentlessly. When two long fingers were abruptly pushed inside of your drenched pussy, you clamped around them tightly, rocking your hips back once, twice, before your body stiffened again. You felt your toes curl and your back arch as you came again, biting the back of your hand to muffle the scream that you let out.

“That’s it,” Loki cooed, finally relenting with his tongue but keeping his fingers inside of you. “My girl wanted to be greedy, didn’t she? But what was that old saying about getting exactly what you wish for?”

You didn’t have the presence of mind to answer him, and you heard a tsk before a hand came down hard against your ass. He spanked your other cheek for good measure, and a whimper escaped you as you glanced over your shoulder at him.

The look in Loki’s eyes was absolutely feral as he met your gaze, and a wicked grin spread across his face as he rose up onto his knees. As he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out, you realized for the first time that you were the only one between the two of you that was naked, and another hot wave of lust came over you at the thought.

“As much as I adore those brave little moments where you take what you want, love,” he murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss to your spine, “I need you to know, at the end of the day, that you’re mine.”

At that, he gripped his shaft and guided his cock into your cunt, both of you letting out a groan at the sensation. Even after cumming twice, your pussy gripped him tightly, almost like it was trying to pull him in. Never once had Loki felt so much pleasure while having sex; never once had he felt such a possessive need to claim and mark and own before, but he’d learned a while ago that there was no comparing you to any past partner or experience he’d ever had.

Setting out with a fast pace, he squeezed your hip in one hand and used the other to wrap around your throat, pulling until you were up on your knees, back pressed to his front as he desperately sank into your wet heat over and over again. You cried out when you felt teeth biting into your shoulder, but the pain mixed with the pleasure in an addictive way that you couldn’t get enough of. Loki was typically respectful of where he left marks on you, keeping them in places where they could be easily covered up, but now you felt his lips getting closer and closer to your neck, leaving a purple trail of hickeys across your collarbone that you were already proud of.

You knew he was getting close when he moved his hand from your throat to your clit, tracing tight, fast circles until your head spun, leaning back against his shoulder as your third orgasm rose up.

“Are you going to cum again, greedy little thing?” His voice was a breathless purr against your ear, and you whined, only able to nod in response. “Good girl; cum again for me. And scream my name to let the neighbors know who you belong to.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you wailed his name, repeating it over and over with every surge of pleasure you felt as your orgasm left you boneless and limp in his grip. It didn’t take long for him to follow, stilling inside of you as his cum filled your pussy. You were grateful for your birth control as your head lolled back against his shoulder, enjoying the claiming warmth of his seed as it spread inside of you, a smile coming to your lips when he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Both of his arms came up to hold you against him, pulling out slowly before leaning back against the cabinets behind his back. You laid with him, not caring that you were naked and leaking cum out onto the kitchen floor. There would be plenty of time to clean up later. For now, you looked up to find blue eyes already studying you, and your chest ached with how much you loved him in that moment.

His thoughts must have been straying in a similar direction, because when he kissed you, it was slow, and languid, and you could swear you felt him pouring all his love for you into it. You were both smiling when you parted, and you just sat there enjoying the quiet, intimate moment until Loki broke the silence.

“I suppose we can count the kitchen as christened, then.”

Your giggles turned into a surprised gasp when he suddenly stood up, carrying you with him bridal style as he turned towards the stairs.

“Next up, I think, is the shower.”

____________________

Humans are remarkably adaptable creatures, but it still surprised you how quickly you settled into living with Loki. On his work days, he would leave early to go to the gym first, always leaving you with a kiss and a promise to text you when he got to the hospital. You would spend your days either working on the edits to your newest novel or unpacking your boxes, though that task was completed after the first week of being there.

Lovecraft was a surprisingly sweet little companion. Loki had been afraid it would take her some time to get used to sharing him, but she seemed to enjoy your company. She still didn’t want to sit in your lap and cuddle like she did with Loki, but she would twine around your ankles as you typed at your computer, letting you pet her and lending a listening ear when you needed to talk out what you were working on.

The only thing that you missed about your old home was your office. Loki had offered to convert his spare bedroom into one for you, but you’d felt bad at the thought of Thor having to get a hotel when he came by to visit. You’d asked about maybe setting up an office in Loki’s basement, but he’d quickly waved off the idea, saying that it was too cluttered with storage to be feasible. You’d thought it odd at first, considering that all you would need to do was some rearranging to make space for a desk and office chair down there, but after spending just a few minutes in the room and finding the cold, dark space even creepier than the morgue your partner worked in, you’d agreed and set up your computer on the dining room table instead.

You didn’t want to seem spoiled, and lots of people could only ever dream of getting to be a full-time writer, so you swore up and down that you didn’t miss your office and that you were perfectly fine with your current setup, thank you very much. And you did get used to it after just a few days, continuing to make great progress with your novel at a personal record-breaking pace.

Only a month into your new life living with Loki, you found yourself meeting with your publisher to see the first rough-draft, bound copy of your book, finally tangible and printed out in paper-back. It wasn’t the final edition; there were still small grammatical errors and the cover art to sort out, but it would at least show a rough idea of what the final product would be. Several of the rough copies would be shipped out to various authors, literary magazines, and bookstore owners to get feedback on the story and to gather some complimentary quotes for the back of the final cover, but for once, you didn’t find yourself nervous about the feedback that would be coming your way from other professionals.

No, as you walked up to your new home, palms growing sweaty as they held your book to your chest, you were only nervous about your biggest fan’s thoughts as you quietly unlocked your front door. You hadn’t told him that you were getting the advanced copy today, and since it was one of his rare days off during the week, you’d wanted to surprise him with it, knowing he’d immediately want to drop everything he had planned for the evening to devour your words. He’d been trying to sneak glances over your shoulder as you wrote for months, intensely curious about the story of Olivia the killer coroner, growing as impatient as any of your other dedicated readers to see what your story held.

And now, as you crept silently through your house to find and surprise him, you could only hope his wait would be worth it. But, as you made your way from the first floor to the second, your nervous smile was quickly replaced by a frown. He was nowhere to be seen – the first floor was completely empty, save for Lovecraft as she snoozed in Loki’s favorite armchair. And the second floor was similarly vacant.

“Loki?” you called out, knocking on the guest bedroom door before opening it to find…nothing.

There was one last place to look – the basement. As much as you didn’t particularly enjoy the room, you knew there was nothing to actually be afraid of down there. And so you held your head high as you climbed down the stairs, quickly flicking on the overhead fluorescent lights as you stepped into the cold concrete space.

…and promptly found nothing. Not a single black hair to be seen. Letting out a huff, you put your hands on your hips and turned the light back off, once more ascending to the first floor and peaking out the window. His car was right out front in its usual spot; maybe he’d gone for a walk in the neighborhood? It was possible; there was a bougie specialty tea shop a few blocks down that he got his earl grey from. Or he might have decided to go for a jog; he’d mentioned wanting to get back into running a few days ago.

Shrugging it off, you sent him a quick text asking where he was before heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, setting your book down on the counter as you did. However, before you could even take a sip, you heard the unmistakable sound of a door being opened downstairs, followed by a familiar set of footsteps heading your way. Nearly spilling your water, you quickly grabbed the book and held it behind your back just in time to see Loki appear in the doorway, pale cheeks flushed from running up the stairs.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he smiled, stepping closer to peck your cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Blinking rapidly, you looked from him to the space behind him, not understanding where he’d appeared from.

“Where were you?”

“In the basement,” he answered. “Just moving some stuff around, sorting through old boxes. How did-“

“Wait,” you interrupted, letting out a huff of laughter. “Are you pranking me or something? I just checked the basement, and you weren’t in there. The lights were off and everything.”

Without missing a beat, he shrugged, reaching past you to take a sip from your water.

“You mean you don’t ever get the urge to arrange storage in the dark?”

You let out another awkward laugh at his joke, not buying it for a second. He could see your skepticism, evidently, because he smiled and leaned back against the fridge, boxing you in against the counter.

“It’s a surprise, love. Trust me. And try not to wander down there too much until your surprise is ready. Now, are you going to tell me what you’ve got behind your back, or do I need to guess?”

You’d momentarily forgotten the reason why you’d wanted to find him in the first place, and with a jolt you straightened up, scooting away from him when he tried to peak over your shoulder.

“I think if you’re keeping surprises from me, it’s only fair you need to guess,” you sassed, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Ohhh, I see,” he chuckled. “Alright. Is it-“

But before he could begin his question, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing your waist and spinning you around, fingers tickling up your sides until your grip on the book slipped. Letting out a shrieking gasp, you pulled away and turned back around, but not before feeling a strong grip grab the book and pull it from your hands in surprise.

“Hey!” you shouted. “That’s cheating!”

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, “but you never listed the rules, so how…”

He trailed off as he finally saw what he was holding in his hands. The temporary cover art would change with the final, published edition, but for now there was a simple picture of a dagger slicing a human heart clean through the center resting on top of a steel examination table like the ones he used at work. The title you’d finally settled on was The Killing Coroner, and it was sprawled across the top in bold black font, your name printed just below it in smaller letters. You didn’t like the initial look of it, but if the first draft of the final cover art that your publicist had sent you was anything to go by, it would look much more gothic and refined before hitting shelves.

Loki, though, seemed enthralled with it, tracing the letters of your name with a slender digit before reverently opening to the first few pages. When he saw the dedication, though, you watched his breath get caught in his throat, and for the first time you saw tears spring to his eyes as he read the words on that page out loud.

“’For Loki, with all my love. You inspired every word.’”

He bit his lip, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting yours. You couldn’t even begin to describe the depths of the emotions swirling inside of them, but you knew that above all else, there was love. Strong and scary and deep as the ocean, you saw how much he loved you in that moment and knew you’d made the right choice to dedicate your book to him. Really, you couldn’t picture it being anyone else. He’d believed in you and your writing since before you’d even met, and though you couldn’t tell who reached for who first, soon you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, clutching each other close and kissing one another breathless.

“I wish I could go back and show this to my past self,” he sighed, cupping your cheeks. “You have no idea how much this means to me, love.”

“If I didn’t have some kind of idea, I wouldn’t have dedicated it to you,” you assured him. “I know my writing has meant a lot to you, but you don’t realize how much you reading my stories has meant to me. We were helping and supporting each other even before we met; isn’t that strange to think about?”

A small, genuine smile crossed his face, and he let out a sigh as he held you to him.

“Strange, yes, but in the best possible way.”

You were content to simply stand there, holding each other and reveling in having found someone so perfect. But even when Loki pulled away and declared that he was taking you out for a celebratory dinner, even when, later, he laid you down on the bed and showed you exactly how much your gift had meant to him, you still couldn’t help but come back to the same nagging question that stuck out in your brain like a sore thumb.

What had he been doing in the basement?

_________________

A week had gone by, and yet here you were, stood in the middle of the basement with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. Despite what Loki had said about spoiling your surprise, you couldn’t help but wander back down to the lowest level of your new home, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body to ward off the chill.

You’d obsessed over it quietly for the past several days, wondering where he could have been and what he could have been doing. Though the space was much more cluttered than the rest of the house, there weren’t any obvious places he could have been hiding. You peaked behind the tallest stacks of cardboard boxes just to make sure, but no, you were positive there wasn’t any other place he could have been hiding.

Unless.

As crazy as you knew it was to suspect, a passing thought had come to you late last night that, maybe, there was a hatch you hadn’t seen – some sort of trap door or crawl space. There were plenty of basements that had one, especially in older buildings like the brownstone you now resided in, and as unlikely as it was, your curiosity wouldn’t rest until you could figure it out.

And so that was how you found yourself walking slowly through the basement that evening while Loki was at work – creeping along with your eyes glued to the floor to find some sort of irregularity that might hint at a secret room. You didn’t really know why it was so important to you; you truly didn’t want to ruin any surprise Loki might be trying to set up, but the child in you couldn’t help but feel intrigued at the prospect of finding a secret, extra space inside your new home. You were reminded of Harry Potter’s cupboard beneath the stairs, and you felt like it was some sort of adventure, trying to find the hidden compartment that may or may not be there.

Though, as you did a second sweep over the space, you were beginning to lean towards the latter option. The entire floor was one smooth slab of concrete, and you couldn’t find any blemishes or cracks in it whatsoever. With a sigh, you leaned back against one of the bookcases pressed against the back wall, turning your head to the side to absently read the spines. They were all pretty dusty, since they weren’t the sort of books one would revisit and read for pleasure. Most of them were medical journals or textbooks from Loki’s time in college.

But you perked up when you saw one spine that was less dusty than those around it. Actually, as you straightened up and examined it closer, you realized that it was an edition of Shakespeare, and it hardly had any dust at all on it. With a frown, you reached out and slid it off the shelf, turning the heavy volume over in your hands curiously. Opening the front cover, you smiled when you saw Loki’s handwriting along the top of the first page, though it was written in a much clumsier hand than that of the man you knew today.

“Property of Loki Odinson, age 12”

With a grin, you went to return it to its place when, suddenly, your eyes caught on something along the inner wall of the shelf. Something that looked like a keyhole…

“I take it you never read the story of Bluebeard’s wife as a cautionary tale.”

A shriek escaped your lips as you spun around, finding Loki standing directly behind you with an arched eyebrow and his hands in his pockets. Pressing a hand against your suddenly-pounding heart, you gave him a sheepish smile as you held the volume of Shakespeare against your stomach.

“Jeez, Loki, you scared me half to death,” you chuckled, though his lips didn’t so much as twitch as he watched you. Recalling what he’d just said, you licked your lips and shifted your feet, for some reason feeling inexplicably nervous. “And I don’t think I’m familiar with that one. Bluebeard, you said?”

“Bluebeard,” he nodded. Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he revealed a small, black key, holding it out to you until you took it with shaking fingers.

“Bluebeard was an old retired sailor who lived in a quiet town, and rumors swirled for years about him and how he might have come into his fortune,” Loki recalled, taking a step towards you. You, in turn, went to step back as well but found your back pressed against the shelf, trapped between him and its hard edges.

“Eventually, despite the rumors, a young lady from the town agreed to marry him,” he pressed on. “And she found herself thrust into the lap of luxury, wanting for nothing as her husband granted her every wish. Her first day as mistress of his estate, he gave her a ring with all the keys to his home on it, but he showed her one specifically, saying it went to the basement, but that she was to never open it.”

He nodded towards the key you now held, and the buzzing anxiety in your chest grew louder in your ears as he gripped your shoulders and turned you around to face the shelf.

“But, of course, curiosity got the best of his little wife sooner rather than later. It wasn’t enough that she had a beautiful new home, a loving new husband… No, she wanted to see. She wanted to look. And so she took that key,” he continued, guiding your hand that held the key and manipulating your fingers until it was held outstretched between them, “and she opened that basement door. And do you know what she found inside?”

You shook your head, suddenly unable to speak as he made your hand slide the key into the secret lock. His breath was warm against the back of your head as he slowly, slowly twisted your hand, and you gulped when you felt the lock click away.

“Loki-“

“Do you have any guesses as to what Bluebeard’s wife saw, love?”

Once more, you shook your head, and you held your breath as his other hand came up to grip the shelf and pull, revealing a hidden door on secret hinges that began slowly opening outwards…

“She saw what had happened to his other wives, who had also been too curious to leave well enough alone. Or, rather, what was left of them.”

Your anxiety bloomed into outright fear as the door was opened fully, revealing-

“BOO!”

You yelped, stumbling as Loki’s hands seized your sides, squeezing them so suddenly that you jumped forward, into…

Into the most perfect office you’d ever seen.

Your previous nerves died, and you let your lips turn upwards into a grin as Loki laughed behind you. Soon enough, you were laughing too, spinning around to take in the entire room. The walls and floor, like the rest of the basement, were concrete, but Loki had set up a few floor lamps that cast warm light on the space. A plush rug was laid out on the floor and tasteful artwork of old books and typewriters had been hung up at various points along the walls. One entire wall had a bunch of pegs in it, and you imagined that it used to be home to various power tools that had once hung on them. Now, though, there were small potted succulents attached to them, adding a fresh touch of green to the space that brightened everything around it.

And in the center of it all was the most beautiful, antique writing desk you’d ever seen. It was made from dark wood, and a cozy rolling chair was stationed dutifully in front of it. There was even a small plastic mat on top of the plush area rug that would allow you to roll the chair as you pleased without losing traction against the carpet. All of it was complete with two armchairs and an empty bookshelf in the far corner, and as you took the space in, you felt Loki come up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle.

“Do you like your surprise, love?” he murmured, and you were quick to turn around and fling your arms around his neck.

“I love it!” you exclaimed. “Loki, this is… You are… I can’t thank you enough!”

He laughed, taking in with pride in how happy you were.

“Enough to forgive me for giving you a bit of a scare just now?”

“Just barely, but don’t do that again,” you giggled. “You really had me convinced I was gonna open that door to a pile of corpses.”

He laughed particularly hard at that one, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Never, love. This is your space now, to write or read or do anything you see fit in.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest, and you leaned up to press a lingering kiss to his smiling lips. The scare he’d given you melted away into something else entirely as you thought of everything he’d done for you, and so when you pulled away, you grabbed the tie hanging from his neck and tugged on it, walking backwards towards one of the armchairs.

“I think,” you grinned, “I should show you just how grateful I am.”

There was no mistaking the lust that entered his gaze upon hearing your words, and he allowed you to turn him around and push him down into the chair. His eyes never left yours as you sunk down onto your knees, placing a hand on each to spread his legs wide enough for you to kneel between them.

And for his part? Loki closed his eyes and let you unzip his pants, surrendering control to you as he basked in the situation he found himself in.

He’d known as soon as you’d agreed to move in with him that he would need to take his “hobbies” elsewhere, and when you’d refused to take Thor’s guest room (despite his secret hopes that you would, solely to force the big blonde oaf into a hotel during his stays), he’d known the perfect space for your new office. After all, how delicious was it that your stories of gruesome murders would be created in the very room where he’d crafted his own? He thought back to the barista and abusive mother that had met their demise not so far from where you now knelt before him, pleasuring the very killer who’d taken inspiration from your words without you even knowing, and he let a wide grin spread over his features.

It had been hard to part with his “murder room”, as Thor had termed it, but right now? He couldn’t find it in him to regret his decision in the slightest.

#loki x reader #dark!loki x reader #serial killer!loki #beauty in the blood #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #dark!loki #loki odinson x reader

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femmeholograms · 1 year

Note

If we were dating…

I’d want to hang out all the time.

On days we’re both feeling social, I’d love to go on dates to local museums, art galleries, thrift stores, bookshops - places we could wander together and enjoy for hours. Or we’d go travel farther afield, enjoying exploring on our long weekends or vacations. I’d be nerding out about the history and politics of any place we went.

On days we’re both feeling less social, I’d be just as happy to hang out at home with you - we can watch our favorite TV shows/movies, work on our own individual projects (parallel play) or find some things to do together; puzzles, crafts, etc. We’d curl up on the couch, your head in my lap or on my chest, while I’d play with your hair. You’d have to be ok with constant contact - I’m very physically affectionate, and would be frequently stopping to hug or caress you, place a quick kiss on your cheek.

I’d show my love and affection by buying you gifts; taking notice of the books you flip through at the store, the jewelry and clothes you prefer, any decor or things you love to collect. You’d find yourself filling your home with bouquets of your favorite flowers and little trinkets that reminded me of you.

I’d talk your ear off (if you’re feeling up to it). I’d talk about the current astrological transits and how they might affect both of us. I’d talk about the latest episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver and get all worked up over whatever social/political issue he discussed (getting worked up over social/political issues is a pretty constant state for me, but watching LWT really gets me passionate). I’d talk about whatever Wikipedia article rabbit hole I’d just stumbled down. I’d talk about my new and old story ideas that I really don’t work on enough. I’d talk about my pagan witch practice, and my shifting understanding of my place in the universe.

I’d listen to everything you say with rapt attention. I want to know about your day. How work was. If you got enough sleep. If you met any interesting people during your flight. I’d want to know how you’re feeling. What you’re passionate about. What you think is funny. What your family and childhood were like. What you hope for in the future. How you want to be loved. What your shifting understanding of your place in the universe is.

If I was dating you, I’d have such a hard time keeping my hands off of you. You’d catch me checking you out frequently, after one date or fifty dates. I’d want to fuck, make love, have sex - whatever we’re both feeling in that moment. I’d want to make you feel so good. I’d want to worship you, as only a butch stone top can with a beautiful high femme like you.

Megan I wish I could fully capture for you how much I am blushing 🥰

#i can get back on #ask #ask game

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aineryeo · 1 year

Text

‟You Are My Best Friend.„

Synopsis: Tengen, Giyuu, and Kyojuro see you in wild tatters. You recover and unpack all the issues you've hidden for the past year/s.

Themes & Warnings: Coming-of-age, Slice of Life, Lighthearted Romance, Graphic Violence due to Setting, Heavy Canonical References (Theoretical calculated age to fit into the present time in the anime), Spoilers, Eventual Smut, Kind of Slow Burn, Domestic Violence (Verbal/Physical) because Shinjuro. (18+) Also, you meet Akaza, so make of that as you will. → AFAB! Reader.

Chapter Author Notes: I think this one has a lot more flashbacks and time-skipping ahaaa i did not mean for that :")) but it's safe to say we'll be having ~good times~ for a little while + i will be taking a break from this series for a little while after chapter 11 — but anyways, this is shorter than usual, but we'll meet the original cast soon as well anddd we're adults now starting here hehe

i have to write for DG next so see you later my MMF readers ^__^

Marry me first! (먼저 결혼해줘) — Series Masterlist (Age Guides, Playlist, Gallery/Picture References, Terminology List.)

Chapter 8.2 « Chapter 9 (Current) » Chapter 10

Two years and a few months back, Kyojuro could still remember the incredibly vivid memory. Though, really, anyone who thinks of such a haunting event everyday will have every detail nitpicked and memorized. Never to be left unforgotten. The concept of you was, as of right now, much more blazing than the voices of both his late mother and absent father.

Right. You left him, but he made you go.

Kyojuro directed unfair frustration towards you, and in the end, he had to pay for the repercussions. He knew you were fairly sensitive, and extremely avoidant when faced with difficulties. Thinking that he knew you, rather, being satisfied with the surface personality you showed him was his fault. He didn’t think to dig deeper, to understand you more.

Initially, Kyojuro thought of you as family by bond as you grew closer. But he can’t call you a sister, nor a brother, and most especially not a parent. It didn’t sit right with him.

A friend then?

A friend, you were. A terribly great one. Maybe you were just such a great friend, that Kyojuro feels the crushing waves of emotions washing over him all the more when you left him alone that night. He remembers laying on the bed, unable to call out to you due to his injuries and the medics checking for his current situation. How could he know that you’d never show yourself for years on end, what more when he finds out from Tengen that you’ve been asking all the Hashira but him for training a few months from now.

You’ve left him with no letters.

No greetings.

No visits.

No gifts.

Anything.

Kyojuro would eventually notice his little brother looking at him worried when he spaced off despite having a smile on his face. Most especially if he did so with a blank face. Most of his nights were spent with endless thinking. Of what? Many things.

How can I fix this?

How will I look for you?

Are you mad at me?

Will you shun me if you see me?

What are you thinking right now?

Are you sleeping well?

Why weren’t you staying with Haia-san?

Why did you only send two letters to me for both 28th of April for the past two years?

These were one of the few that were the constant flux inside his mind. Then, he met Umeki.

Kyojuro was about to go home when he sensed the weak presence of a demon in a small diner along the road near the south entrance of his village. When he came in after a brisk knock, a small litter of blood trailed all the way behind the counter. That was when he saw the demon straddling the girl who looked pale, weakened, and terribly afraid.

Their first meeting.

After Kyojuro quickly disposed of the flaccid demon, he helped her. A lot of the items inside the diner were damaged, Kyojuro offered simple assistance. Bringing her back to their home so she could have a place to stay and recover from her injuries that night. The events that followed after that consisted of Kyojuro eating Umeki’s cooking just as she had insisted.

“It’s the only way I can repay your immense kindness, Rengoku-san.” She smiles.

Kyojuro laughs heartily. “I’ll visit often then. But beware, I eat a lot!”

Umeki gives him a soft laugh, putting her hand on her mouth. “I’ll stock up a lot more for you then.”

It was all in his inherent kindness and genuine admiration for Umeki’s skill in cooking that kept Kyojuro to visit the quiet diner often. At least as often as he can with his heavy responsibilities. Sometimes, he even brought Senjuro with him. His little brother was pleased with her cooking, much to Umeki’s joy. Soon, Kyojuro found out that Umeki was left alone by her parents to run the diner alone, as they were old and retired already. She’s lucky though, to have trusted employees who also acted much like her friends.

Kyojuro thought that maybe he could ask for advice from her. But the day he thought of asking the help he sought out for, was the day that Umeki confessed to him.

In a bright and sunny afternoon inside the diner, Kyojuro rejected Umeki.

“You’re really nice, and I like you very much Rengoku Kyojuro-san.” Umeki’s face tinted pink, looking down timidly, intertwining her fingers together as her thumbs rubbed over each other.

“I’m sorry!” Kyojuro replies.“I have to reject you, I…” I… He pauses.

I’m not looking for a woman nor— No, that’s not right. “I’m…”

Then the words blurt out of his mouth. “I have a fiance.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kyojuro awoke from his little nap, still awaiting orders within the Ubuyashiki household where the Hashira normally gather. Rubbing his eyes, and letting his palm rest on his aching head. He tries to remember his peculiar dream. You were there, he was sure. But the messages in the dream started to become muddled in his wake. But he remembers one thing, vividly.

He told you… That he’ll look for you. Why? Why did he say that?

“An upper-rank! An upper-rank!” Kaname began yelling as soon as the bird got in earshot’s range. Kyojuro, Tengen, and Giyuu looked up to the crow, all with a briefly shocked expression.

Kyojuro had an abysmal feeling deep within his core. He felt as if someone just told him bad news before it even happened. “Where is it?” Tengen spoke, already up and about.

“Kamo District’s Port Nakagi.” Kaname replies, hovering over the gate.

“Did you see the number… Or is that all you know?” Kyojuro asks, slowly.

“Three. Rintaro said, Upper-rank Three.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was silent when the backup had arrived in Nakagi. But Tengen and Giyuu already opted to split directions to survey the area surrounding the body of water to check for any remnants of the demon. They were sure there was a fight, they already saw the pile of mens’ bodies hidden within the darkness of the cove. Tengen assumes that there were no survivors, as two Kinoe slayers already looked beyond repair lay on the sandy ground when they first came to the area. He wouldn’t say that they were incompetent at this point, just unlucky. Even Tengen doesn’t know how to measure an Upper Moon, because no one, not even him, has met an Upper Moon.

That’s why… Kyojuro can’t—shouldn’t—come with them.

[...]

“Let me go. Tengen.” Kyojuro stands in front of Uzui, frame attempting to combat his visibly larger frame.

“We don’t need unnecessary emotions in this time-sensitive mission. I can’t let you go with us if you’re going to act rashly, a Pillar can’t die needlessly. Your mistakes might put us in danger too.” Tengen crosses his arms, looking down. Kyojuro was looking up at him, visage darkened, his head wasn’t tilted up to meet Tengen’s.

It was the first time that Kyojuro had looked so enraged. Tengen was more intimidated with the accompanying silence of the man’s silent fury, and his eyes that pierced through the darkness, baring their fangs right into his vermillion orbs.

“What mistakes?”

[...]

But how could Tengen even hope to stop Kyojuro now? He certainly can’t when the man’s never been this frightening before. It was no joke that he was appointed Hashira like him, despite being younger. Kyojuro was a man who filled the role of a Pillar flawlessly, just as those in his family did before him. The Sound Pillar jumps through trees, roaming around, listening for any unusual noise.

But much like the Water Pillar, Giyuu, Tengen didn’t find anything.

“The woman that Rengoku-san is looking for…” Giyuu speaks amongst the dead of the night. Already back to the area where they began before splitting up. The coast that met the trail of blood beneath the cimmerian darkness, just barely hiding the mountain of victims, gave the two men a shared feeling of sorrow. Something that wasn’t new to their job.

“This is why I didn’t want him to go.” Tengen replies, with half-lidded eyes. Staring at the soft brushes of sea and rock. “There’s no way that woman would have survived.”

Giyuu hums. He remembers passing by a litter of broken trees and assumes that it was a trail that the demon left behind.

The three of them came much earlier than the kakushi meant to handle the mess left behind by the monster that resided here. “An Upper Moon. Do you think you could beat one?” Tengen asks, now looking at the ever-stoic Water Hashira.

“...”

Tengen guesses that Giyuu’s silence was understandable. They don’t know how strong those demons are, a concrete answer is something that neither of them can ever provide until they’re actually in the situation. But they have heard the stories. No Hashira has ever come back alive after fighting seriously against an Upper Moon demon. That fact alone was a weight heavily placed on their shoulders once they were appointed.

“By the way, where’s Kyoju—”

Pit-a-pat.

Was it supposed to rain tonight?

Droplets of water began pouring over the area, but the skies were clear of clouds. It was then that Tengen and Tomioka looked up, seeing you. Standing atop the peak of the thorny rock, bare-feet, already looking half-dead, a mix of blood and seawater on your whole form. In your hand, you were holding Kyojuro by the collar. The Flame Hashira was damp, and was gently holding your shaky forearm that held him tightly. You were almost like a wild animal that somehow found its way to them, where you bare your teeth, wary of their presence.

Just what exactly did you go through?

Tengen and Tomioka were beyond shocked to see you at all. Even more that you’re holding Kyojuro right now as if he weighed nothing. As if your injuries were nonexistent. It was you, they were sure… But they could not see your eyes. Are you currently unconscious?

The air around them feels tighter, harder to breathe.

What should they do? It feels wrong to attack you, they were sure you weren’t a demon despite your disheveled appearance. If you were, you’d have killed Kyojuro already and drank his blood to fix all your injuries. The man in question is the first to break the tension, eliciting a small chuckle from his throat.

Kyojuro offers you a genuine smile as your white sclera, devoid of your luminescent irises, looks at him. “You’re cold again.”

“...” Your chapped lips remain ajar, hiding your teeth, as you only look at him and he at you.

“Look, the sun is rising.” Kyojuro looks to his left, and you follow his gaze, right into the horizon where the skies meet the sea. The light from the evanescent beauty that was greeting you, spilled all over your figures. Basking your dull skin and his skin.

Oh.

His skin. Him. Him. Him, him, him…

You feel his hand slide up from your wrist to your hand. “Let’s get you warm.”

It was neither blood nor seawater that got into your eyes as you felt it water up. Starting to feel yourself get back into reality once more, your eyes that once only showed your sclera, rolled to reveal your irises.

“My (Name)...” Like a waterfall, your tears fell on your messy face whilst your hand let go of Kyojuro’s collar. Allowing him to regain his balance, and catch your fatigued figure. Kyojuro’s other hand supported your head, whilst the other that held your hand was now on your back. His face leans closer to yours, resting on his chest, in a gentle embrace, just as the rays of the sun reflected the tamed flame within Kyojuro’s heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two Months Later.

At The Butterfly Residence.

A few months after your encounter with the Third Upper Moon, you awoke to face the dark wooden roof of the Butterfly Mansion’s collective patient room. You blink slowly at first before squinting, trying to get used to the bright light that gets in your eyes from the window beside your bed. Turning your head, you see two other slayers, bandaged fully, nearly head to toe.

On the bedside table, there lay a mountain of unopened envelopes. Next to some fruits, your kumihimo, and your folded haori that looks to be newly washed. You clutch your head, remembering everything that happened.

“A-ah! Aaah!! A patient is awake!” A little girl points at you, making her drop the tray she held in her hands. Causing the medicine in the teacup to spill all over the floor.

“Naho, the tea!” Another small girl peeks out of the door frame in a panicked state. Naho, now realizing how she messed up, gets the tray and cup off the floor.

“Here, I ran to get a rag when I saw.” A third petite girl pops up.

“Kiyo!! Ahhh, thank you!” Naho pipes up, looking like she’s about to cry.

After the whole situation, two of them approach you with a smile on their faces while the other rushes to return the dishes. They look really young. Much younger than Senjuro, you were sure. They looked around six? Or perhaps seven… Senjuro should be about ten now.

“Hello! I’m Kiyo,” The girl with short hair said.

“I’m Sumi!” The girl with twin tails said.

“I’m Naho…” The girl with twin braids said, just now coming into the room.

“Hello, Kiyo, Sumi, Naho.” You greet back with a parched throat, coughing immediately after.

“Ah, here I got you water when I took back the other stuff!!” Naho fusses, handing you a cup filled with lukewarm water. You nod back to her gratefully and you take the cup to drink the water in one gulp, sighing in relief after. “How long was I out…?”

“The Flame Pillar carried you here about…” Kiyo counts on her fingers, “Four months ago!”

``Four months? That’s a lot of wasted time…`` You think. For you, it felt like one long, comfortable sleep. Plopping down on the mattress, you stretch your limbs as the little girls watch you. Right now, your hair was one huge mess. But apart from that, your whole body feels lighter than it's ever been.

``So, Kyojuro brought me here… I wonder how we’ll act when we see each other again. Do I tell him about my dream while sinking in the ocean? Or about how he stole Shiba? Maybe about what his father told you? Should you ask about Umeki? — Right, everything should be cleared up when I see him.`` You resolute on your own as the girls watched your expression changing from one to another emotion in the span of a minute.

Sumi pipes up, trying to fill the air. “You actually recovered really quick, onee-san!”

You tilt your head to the side in intrigue. “What do you mean by that?”

[...]

Kyojuro headed to the room where you were as soon as he heard you’ve awoken from Kochou and consequently, Rintaro who told Kaname. Information travels fast with these birds. When he slid the door open, he already saw you standing up, fixing your uniform collar. Your hakama pants were replaced with a skirt this time, and your legs were covered in black tights that hugged them well. It was almost like deja vu when he saw you in your old attire; with the most notable difference being that the once loose cloth was now hugging you more snugly.

As you fixed your collar, he hears you mumble about why Haia had left your old uniform for you instead of the hakama pants that you actually got used to. Kyojuro then shakes his head, ridding himself of the small blush that formed on his cheeks when he first caught a glimpse of you. Then, his initial emotions come rushing back to him all at once.

“You’re… Awake!” Kyojuro says with a downturned mouth, eyebrows scrunched together as if his most intense worry was lifted off his shoulders at last. Looking like he’s about to cry but not quite.

You finally look at him, standing still at the door frame, hands gripping the frame harshly. Grinning and giving him your most rambunctious laugh, you reply with raised open arms. “I’m awake!”

Kyojuro takes your invite for a tight embrace, quickly moving from the entrance, already close to you. It’s like that for a while, you and him, wrapped in each others’ arms. The chirping of sparrows, and the rays of the sun penetrated the room, providing you warmth. It was the middle of Spring right now, and so, everything seemed much more colorful. Like the flowers that bloomed in the season.

“It’s been such a long time.” Kyojuro finally speaks, breaking your temporary tranquil. “I have so much to tell you.”

You simply hum in reply, and hug him tighter, holding on to the back of his uniform. You deeply inhale his oaky scent as your eyes close in thought. He’s probably just gone back from a mission, light sweat on his skin, and yet you couldn’t get enough of his welcoming aroma. Did he always smell this good?

Unbeknownst to you, Kyojuro did the same, ever pining for your figure.

Putting your chin over his shoulder so as not to muffle your voice, “I also have… A lot to say.” You say. “I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll tell you everything.”

Slowly pulling away from each other, you look into each other's eyes. And while Kyojuro’s eyes were looking at you as if he was still in a trance and a small smile, you look at him with a somber expression. You wanted to tell him everything about why you disappeared, you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, you wanted to tell him that if he likes someone else, then it was okay. But why was he doing this? Looking at you with his sienna orbs, holding you closely still, you’re caught in the spell that he cast.

A slow force was pulling you two together, closer and closer… Until your foreheads touch, and your skin meets his just as your warm breaths exchange. Until both your noses meet each other in a haze, and then Kyojuro speaks. Saying something that immediately snaps you out of your peculiar daze.

“I like you.”

A moment of silence. You’re trying to see if what he’s saying was real, or if he was real. But the light dust of pink on his cheeks and his whole figure that was evidently getting warmer as your arms stayed around his torso proved that this was real. The serious and sudden situation gave you a sudden pump in your chest, one of immense panic.

“...Haha, what..?” You tread carefully.

But Kyojuro, ever resolute with his current decision, immediately says with a loud voice; rather, his normal voice: “I like you!” — Then he grins widely, as if what he just said wasn’t something out of the blue at all.

“Ah…” You reply. “AHHH!!!” You scream.

Flustered, you push yourself away from Kyojuro. Your action makes him look visibly down, and you hate that he looks like an abandoned puppy. A rejected puppy. Though I guess essentially he was…? You cover your face with the back of your hand, trying to think properly with how you were going to deal with the situation. Watching Kyojuro’s suddenly clingy disposition has caught you totally off guard.

“You’re— You’re not joking?”

“No! I like you!” He repeats, moving from his sad look to his immediately upstanding face.

You clear your throat, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. Or so you would like to say.

“Kyo…Ju…Ro!!!!” You yell, as you grab your own head and then point at him accusingly. Kyojuro flinches. “Just because you’re starting to be popular with girls, you’re already playing with me? Who do you think I am, huh?! Just because you got a better complexion now, or is it because you got taller? Or is it, is it because…” Your eyes start to wander down to his torso before quickly looking back up at him.

Enraged, you continue with your scolding. “You—!!!” Kyojuro pouts at you. Is this deliberate?! (It was not.)

Kyojuro, who was genuinely confused, starts thinking about what you said. “Popular with girls? I’m not.”

Kyojuro doesn’t remember ever doing anything that would conventionally make girls flock to him. He doesn’t care for any other women’s attention. Though now that he thinks about it… Senjuro brought up a topic with him before. He was about to speak up about it, until he saw your somber face, as if you’ve already made a decision by yourself.

You look up at him. “I used you.”

Kyojuro doesn’t speak, and your words just continue to tumble out. “My family is centered around the idea that I should get married. Most especially into a good family like yours. I don’t talk about them ‘cause we’re not on good terms…” Your throat feels clogged. “—And, and then there’s my sister, and my mother. They’re all crazy.” You laugh, looking down.

You continue, still staring down at both your sock-clad feet. “I mean, I look after them every other night when I was with you. Then it turned into every night when I lost you.”

You look up at Kyojuro’s face who was listening to every word. “I wanted to marry you so I can prove to my mother that I was worth something even if I don’t do things the usual way. So when I met you and was around you more, I genuinely enjoyed your company.”

Jokingly chastising Kyojuro, you say, “But you were so mean that night.” — Though jokes are half-meant. You can’t deny the dull stab in your heart at the memory.

Kyojuro, on the other hand, frowned and his eyebrows downturned, looking utterly sorrowful. “Don’t do that face.” You say.

“I’m sorry…” Kyojuro whispers.

“I said stop it…” You look down, feeling your eyes burn.

“It’s my fault. I never should have said that. I was dissatisfied with myself. I also wanted to accomplish the expectations my parents had left on me. Or otherwise shatter the expectation of what I’d become… So, in a way, I also used the joy you’d usually bring to avoid the suffocation. In turn, I gave you so many things to worry about, but as selfish as I could be, I’d never wish for you to leave.” He says as if he’d reflected on that thought countless times.

Kyojuro softly grabs a hold of your face, wiping the tears you were hiding from him with his thumbs. You finally let out a sniffle, trying to get yourself together. “You never made me unhappy.” And then he offers you a smile. “—And I’m not in love with anyone else. So please stay with me.”

Your hands move to hold his that were on your damp cheeks. “You’re such a playboy.” You joke.

“Umeki-san did admit that she liked me,” Kyojuro explains, the first line he chose already made you frown. An ugly feeling quickly forming within your chest. “But I rejected her.”

“...Is she nice?”

Kyojuro had to think of an answer for a while. “Yes?”

“I’m not nice.” You sulk.

“You’re the person I look for when I’m happy, sad, and everything in between.” He says.

The conversation after that seemed endless. Both sitting on your once made bed, you both recall having a collective dream, but neither of you remember the full details. You laugh, you gloom, and you smile as you exchange stories. He knew of your reasons, and you knew of his.

“Seriously, when you marry into the Rengoku family, the wife has to stare at the fire of a candle for hours when she’s pregnant?” You remark, both amazed and scared.

“That’s what my mother said to me before.” Kyojuro looks up as if he was trying to look for said memory.

A knock on the open door interrupted both your train of thoughts.

“Hello? Oh!” Aoi peeks out, bowing at the presence of your companion. “Rengoku-san!” Then she looks at you, slightly nodding. “(Name)-san.”

“Aoi-chan~” You greet back. Kyojuro hums enthusiastically back at the girl.

“It’s already late and I have to clean the room up. I thought you left already, (Name)-san.” Aoi talks to you. You notice how she’s a bit more formal now that Kyojuro was around. For the past couple of days, she was quite harsh towards you, like a tsundere. Though she was much harsher toward the boys, especially those in lower ranks.

What she said causes both you and Kyojuro to glance at each other then out the window, noticing how the skies were starting to become the familiar gradient of the sunset. “We didn’t notice, sorry!” Kyojuro replies before you.

“We’ll go home now.” Kyojuro continues, standing up from beside you, holding his hand out to you.

This makes Aoi look between you and Kyojuro, immediately forgetting her presence when you reach your hand out to his own. She watches as you two walk out the door, shoulder-by-shoulder, with grins big enough to show your teeth.

Aoi faces back to the bed where you once sat on to fix the few crumples left behind, she thinks back. “Rengoku-san feels less intense today…”

[...]

On your way back with Kyojuro, you’re not sure if he forgot to let go of your hand or if it was on purpose. Of course, he did say that he liked you, but neither of you really wanted to rush into a relationship. Because you also had to make sure that your feelings were real and there for him. And then there’s the issue of your family… For him? Shinjuro-san wasn’t much of a problem. Despite being a cruel father, you understood his avoidant coping the best. You haven’t heard anything from Senjuro about Shinjuro being as aggressive as he was at first, he did however, became a heavier recluse instead.

You decide to stop by to see Haia-san first. Kyojuro told you that she stayed at Shirakawa with her long-time boyfriend Mitsue Koki. It was safe to say that the moment you called her out from their door, her eyes immediately landed on your twined hands. Haia pointed this out easily, making you release Kyojuro’s hand in hasty embarrassment and denial. You thanked her for leaving you a new pair of uniforms while you were still knocked out after your old pair of pants got ruined. In the end, you both agreed to meet up soon to recall everything either of you missed. Kyojuro would pipe up every now and then as he stood tall next to you, but for most of the time, he smiled and listened to you talk to your previous teacher.

It wasn’t long that the conversation ended and you had to walk again. On the way, familiar faces met familiar faces. Some neighbors in particular recognized you, who was next to the ``ever famous young bachelor of Shirakawa`` Rengoku Kyojuro. As soon as you made it to the Rengoku household, a series of barks can be heard behind the large wooden gate. A familiar booming voice resonated in the air. Though a small difference was present in his usual tone. Shinjuro-san sounded rather… Sick.

You slam the wooden gate open.

Then, you were met by the sight of a fully-grown Shiba laying on Shinjuro-san’s lap. Even having the gall to roll around and spread her fur more on his kimono. What was more surprising was that Shinjuro, despite having a red nose, had his hand rubbing Shiba’s neck with a nasty scowl on his face.

“Ah.” You let out.

“Ah.” Kyojuro lets out.

“Ah.” Shinjuro lets out.

“Woof!”

“A-Ah!!! Help, Shinjuro-san is abusing my dog!!!” You yell and point at him accusingly as if it was on instinct. Your voice resonated across the whole town, birds flying away, disturbed by your volume.

Your unmistakable entrance makes Shinjuro look quickly between you and Kyojuro, looking utterly panicked. Cursing right out of his breath.

“I’m the victim! Me!” Shinjuro aggressively retaliates, pointing at himself and then sneezing right after.

“Oh.”

Just ``Oh?`` Shinjuro thinks with a scowl. Ungrateful brat.

You and your long lost dog Shiba finally meet through eye contact. For a while, Shiba only looked at you quizzically, as if racking her brain as to who you were. You walked towards Shiba who refused to leave Shinjuro’s lap, lowering yourself, crouching; you smile as you scratched behind Shiba’s ear.

“My Shiba Inu has grown so much.”

It clicked. You were her first savior! The one who saved her from the cold and dark place that day! Shiba whimpered, internally beating herself up for forgetting you for even a second. Your hand rubs her snout, until both your hands stretch her cheeks, making the dog’s eyes thinner, and smile wider.

“Have you successfully chased away other women approaching Kyojuro?”

“Bark!”

“You have! Oh, I’m so proud of you, I love, love, love you so much.” You coddle, picking Shiba up in your arms easily and embrace her fully. Sitting on the ground as she licked your face happily barking.

“Ane!” A small voice calls out as the sound of feet running through wood catches your attention.

“Sen-kun!” You open your arms.

“Ane!!! You’re back!!!” Senjuro yells shakily, hugging you tightly, tackling you to the ground as two heavy weights were now put on top of you. You laugh at the boy. Despite growing so much in the two years you’ve spent apart, his personality has barely changed at all. “Someone tipped me off that your brother was starting to like another woman. I can’t let that happen! I’m the only one who’s allowed to be Sen-kun’s one and only ane!”

Your accusations make Kyojuro crouch down in front of you. His image, in your perspective, was upside down. Kyojuro lightly grabs both your cheeks… Everyone watches intently at what he was about to do. And then… He stretches it.

“A-!” You react.

“No one else!” Kyojuro says with resolution.

“Hai, hai, sorry. It hurts, Kyo-kun.” You say with a semi-obstructed voice. And yet he doesn’t listen. Kyojuro kept your face stretched even when you looked impossibly ridiculous. “Kyojuro— Oi, Kyojuro, listen, oi.”

“Woof, woof, woof!”

“Ane, tell me more of what happened while you were gone!”

Shinjuro watched silently. Albeit his silence, his face was that with a form of tranquil. Your laugh and Shiba’s barks filled the air, you held a perfect conversation with the dog whilst dealing with both of his sons. Shinjuro, after a few minutes, chooses to look away and stand up as he pats his clothes for fur that may be stuck on him. When you notice this, your eyes follow his figure that walked back inside the house. Your hands move from holding both Senjuro and Shiba, to Kyojuro’s hands to lightly pat him away, to which he follows your movement fluidly.

After everything, you guess that Shinjuro was the one who really helped you come back here. So… Sitting up, you yell for him.

“Shinjuro-san!”

The man looks back at you, waiting for what you had to say.

Thank you. For accepting me.

“Let’s eat dinner together. All of us.” You grin.

Ridiculous. Shinjuro gave a bleak smirk to himself. I’ve barely done anything… After all, for a long time, I was and still am, quite a terrible father. But he just can’t deny that perhaps… You were his son’s own ``Ruka.`` — Shinjuro hates himself. That’s why he’d hate it even more if Kyojuro ends up to be truly like him.

“I’m drinking tonight.” Shinjuro replies with his back faced towards all four of you, walking away to lock himself in his room to think.

[...]

For the remaining time that passed, you caught up to Senjuro and Shiba, Kyojuro was naturally inclusive, of course. Your jokes hinting about Umeki died down after a few more jabs. Neither Kaname nor Rintaro came over that day. Soon, the day was nearing its end, the skies getting darker; a sight that signaled that you must be alert. But for now, it seems that no news of a mission was to come for either you and Kyojuro. It was late, and you had no spare clothes here, you were sure you had to go back to the empty house you once lived in with Haia. Still, you don’t want to leave.

All of you finished eating Tempura and simple white rice for dinner. You promised a feast soon, even though Kyojuro and Senjuro defied that and decided to throw a feast for you instead of the other way around. Right after you all ate and gave some leftover beef that they had to Shiba, Shinjuro walked in the dining area. Contrary to what he said, Shinjuro didn’t look or act drunk tonight. Senjuro didn’t flinch in his presence as much as he used to, and Kyojuro had a civil reaction in the presence of his father; simply greeting him accordingly before helping wash the dishes.

It was amazing how much has changed from before. You remember Kyojuro telling you of his realization when he told his father that he just became a Hashira. It was terrible—Which was exactly why Kyojuro chose to move on by himself. To enjoy what was happening in the moment. To work harder for the future that could either be close or far. Kyojuro worked hard to enjoy being by himself and being a good figure for everyone, and you were happy for him.

Now sitting out on the porch that faces the Rengoku household’s garden, you and Kyojuro remain in silence as both of you are stuck in your own thoughts; staring up at the night sky that was to be engulfed with the lustrous stars. The crescent moon lit up the otherwise dark area that you both currently resided in. Either of your skin was moon-kissed, glowing by the glaze of the beautiful moon in the sky tonight. And so, deciding to speak your thoughts, you look at Kyojuro and talk.

“I have to meet my parents again.” Kyojuro looks at you, now listening, pulled from his own mind easily. “Tomorrow I’ll go if Rintaro doesn’t meet me by morning for a mission.” You slouch, sighing. “I have to ask my father something. Whether it becomes significant in my search for my own greatness, I’ll find out from him.”

“Can I go with you?” Kyojuro asks all the sudden. “I want to meet your family too.”

“I don’t know why you’d want to go, I told you about them already.” You scratch your neck.

With wide and reassured eyes, Kyojuro showed an expression that meant he would not back down despite whatever you could possibly throw at him. What more, he replies: “It’s all the more reason I should go. I want to be there for you. I like you, (Name).”

This makes you chuckle defeatedly amused by Kyojuro. “You’re hopeless, Kyojuro.” You say, dropping the side of your head on his shoulder. He adjusted himself to sit closer to you so you wouldn’t have a stiff neck later.

“It’s true.” Kyojuro replies, looking down at you who had your eyes closed. You can feel the rumble of his chest as he talks.

“If you say it too much I might not believe it.” You jokingly chastise.

“...Really?” His meek response immediately made you feel guilty. You feel your cheeks heat up at his intense sincerity, you lightly cough in embarrassment, putting your hand over your mouth.

“...No, please keep saying it.”

Kyojuro’s hand that once hesitated to put itself around your waist landed softly on the fabric of your uniform. Inching to your hand placed in front of you, he holds them with his. The cold night air made the natural heat eminent from Kyojuro’s body comfortable to your naturally cold physicality.

“Will you go home tonight?” He whispers.

“I have to, but I don’t want to.” You reply in the same fashion.

“Stay here. There’s still the room you slept in, it’s been well-kept and neat.”

“Mm…” You hum. Simply enjoying the whole being that was Kyojuro. He’s the best hugger, you wish there is never a time where you’d ever be deprived of this again. “I don’t think I brought any extra clothes…” You yawn, tired from the day already.

“I’ll get them for you,” Kyojuro suggests but you let out an instinctive whine when he pulled away from your warm embrace, immediately feeling cold as you rubbed your eyes awake. “I can be quick if I run.”

“You should be more tired than me, didn’t you just come back from a mission?” You scrunch your brows as you stare at his face. He was smiling very proudly as he clenched his fist in front of you. “If this tires me out, then I’m not worthy to have become a Hashira!”

You felt shy to allow Kyojuro to go through your wardrobe alone. Seriously, sometimes he’s just so dense. Standing up, you stretch your back and give him your hand to help him stand as well. “We’ll go together—If I don’t get there first.” As Kyojuro took your hand and stood up, stretching his body as well, you were already jogging out of their gate immediately after putting on your sandals.

Kyojuro was amused, jogging after you slowly. What he initially thought was to be a simple jog towards the house where you once lived in with Haia, was actually an intense race. Because the moment he saw you step out of their gate, you looked back to him, and then the next second, all you left was a trail of dust amidst the sparks in your steps.

When had you gotten this fast?

Kyojuro had no time to think any more than that as he tried to catch up to you immediately, remembering the directions from way back clearly in his head. Though he noticed that you’d definitely become faster, he was able to catch up to you easily, much to your mock dismay. Kyojuro just knew that you were tempted to put your tongue out and pull your cheek down to mess with him; but you were both aware that at the speed you were both going in, you’d most likely catch a bug in your mouth.

Of course, that didn’t stop a smile and an internal laugh to form from the boy as he watched you think to yourself. It didn’t take long for both of you to arrive at Haia’s old house. Kyojuro wasn’t tired, and he noticed how you also barely broke a sweat. After he patiently waited outside for you to rummage through your wardrobe, you came out with a boro bag, sliding the door to Haia’s old house shut.

“Let’s go back!” You say with a satisfied face.

[...]

Since Kyojuro first saw you, he’s been plagued. When you were thirteen and was first accepted as a slayer like him, when you first touched his hand and immediately expressed your thoughts: ``Your hands are warm. — And the odd feeling, the hurt, the guilt, the longing, all of which crashed on him when you left. And now, he feels as if overflowing.

That’s why he’s plagued. It spilled over when he said he liked you. Kyojuro knew that he did, at this point, he was sure he did. He had years to think about it, though maybe what was hard is that the only people who truly knew his struggle apart from little Senjuro were all… Men. No concrete answers were ever given to him, and the only guide he followed was how he simply wants to be with you.

Is it wrong when late into the night, he couldn’t sleep?

Is it so wrong when he sits up from his futon, trying to talk himself out of his own thoughts?

And would it be the worst sin if he stood in front of the room you were sleeping in… Debating whether to knock and ask if you were already asleep, even if he knew you were still recuperating from months of being bedridden… Was it wrong?

You were his best friend, you are his best friend. The way you’d easily mold into each other even after a long separation, Kyojuro can say that your relationship with each other is like a force of nature.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Are… Are you asleep…?” Kyojuro asks quietly into the dark hallway in which he stood. Into the door in his face, into the figure who was laying on the futon inside.

There was no response. Right. It was his mistake. He should sleep.

“Maybe.” A similarly quiet voice replies from inside. And despite having a hard time hearing for most of his days, Kyojuro can hear you, whether it was in the silence of your room, or the noise of the crowd; he knows how to hear you.

Maybe what both of you felt was still yet to be properly defined, but it’s something you can feel in the stillness. The door slides open. Sock-clad feet skid along the smooth floor, the door closes. He takes a step, it’s not much, but it said enough. You can see it with the lights out.

He is in love.

Chapter 8.2 « Chapter 9 (Current) » Chapter 10

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》》anger is an energy ( ic vraelgard. ) 》》a book about better times than these ( headcanon. ) 》》this hour is dedicated to annoying lucifer ( queue. ) 》》if you met my family you’d understand ( gallery. ) 》》twofaced wolf in sheep’s clothing ( self. ) 》》he who brought sin to heaven ( lucifer. ) 》》did you expect the embodiment of wrath to be the preppy kid in the front row of the classroom? ( crack. ) 》》i'll win because i'm too mad to lose ( musings. ) 》》ask if you’d like ; you may not like my answer ( meme. ) 》》i'd rather go to a library than a party ( answered. ) 》》first of all you ignored my pictures of cats dressed up as princesses so fuck you and second of all… ( ooc. )

#》》anger is an energy ( ic vraelgard. )#》》a book about better times than these ( headcanon. )#》》this hour is dedicated to annoying lucifer ( queue. )#》》if you met my family you’d understand ( gallery. )#》》twofaced wolf in sheep’s clothing ( self. )#》》he who brought sin to heaven ( lucifer. )#》》did you expect the embodiment of wrath to be the preppy kid in the front row of the classroom? ( crack. )#》》i'll win because i'm too mad to lose ( musings. )#》》ask if you’d like ; you may not like my answer ( meme. )#》》i'd rather go to a library than a party ( answered. )#》》first of all you ignored my pictures of cats dressed up as princesses so fuck you and second of all… ( ooc. )

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit)

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two ‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

2K notes · View notes

kodzuvii · 3 years

Text

CLUB STUPID [EXTRA: there’s a pretty girl in our kitchen]

PAIRING - suna x fem!reader ft. suna rizu aka the little sister :)

GENRE - crack + fluff

warning - just grammar and spelling mistakes lol + y/n cuts her finger + y/n is implied to be really short + suna is a bit ooc but that’s because he’s a simp for you <3

wc - 7k

SYNOPSIS - Club Stupid, an anonymous podcast meant for the dumb and dumbest to send in unspoken and nonsensical thoughts about issues they face in their day to day lives and for Y/n to speak out and give her opinions and feelings. Normal feelings though, nothing romantic like how she thinks this lazy guy with questionable hair in the volleyball club is actually pretty cute.

a/n: bringing this baby back because we recently hit 5k notes :D this is also my peace offering for my sudden absence on this blog LMAO sit back and enjoy as we catch up with suna and yn as well as witness whipped!suna

[Somewhere at the start of December]

“I don’t understand”

“Don’t understand what?”

“You’re the one who failed your test, why am I the one buying groceries?”

“Because I paid during our last date”

“Rin, I’m helping you study. Does this even count as a date?”

You looked down at your hands that were holding bags full of ingredients you needed to make some sukiyaki. With the boys being on break from volleyball, Suna had texted you after school asking for help to review for a retake on a test he failed.

You had to take a double-take while reading the text because, Suna? Studying? Willingly? A rare combination.

The original plan was to go straight to his house since his family owned a really nice kotatsu table that also acted as a couch. With winter settling in and the weather starting to get much colder, you and Suna quickly realized that neither of you enjoyed going out during this time of the year. Sure, the snowflakes were pretty, but sitting comfortably under a warm kotatsu surrounded by snacks while you tried to get his mind around trigonometry sounded more appealing

Suna looked down at you, “You’re acting as if you’re not craving a hot pot right now,” You rolled your eyes, “I never said I wasn’t craving it, I just know that I’m gonna be doing most of the work because your ass can’t cook” you reasoned. Suna shrugged, “not my fault you decided to upgrade your cooking skills during the past 5 months we’ve been together” You rolled your eyes and buried your face deeper into Suna’s scarf that was wrapped around your neck in an attempt to cover up the blush rising up on your cheeks.

A smug smile came upon Suna’s lips as he watched you get embarrassed. You two were still going strong and had hit 5 months just a week ago. Even though you both had your minor little arguments here and there, you were both still content and happy with each other.

With 5 months flying by, Suna didn’t think that it was possible for him to fall for you even more. By now, you had both settled into a comfortable state in your relationship. Regular dates about once or twice during the week with a couple of sleepovers and late-night facetime calls thrown in between. Since it was colder, he had at least two hoodies on him at all times. One for you and one for him (but he wouldn’t mind if you took both.) He enjoyed seeing the sight of you curled up in his hoodie when you stayed over at his place or when found himself keeping you company as you edited your podcast for the week.

Once the second semester of the school year started, you started to branch out a little bit more on your own and found yourself being busier as you started joining clubs of your own interest.

Sure Suna was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be seeing you sitting by the bleachers anymore during practice, but he understood that you had your own passions and needed your own group of friends outside of the boys on volleyball team.

He liked seeing the smile on your face when you talked to him about something your friend had said or about how fun of a day you had after hanging out with them. He had to reassure you many times that he didn’t mind you hanging out with other people at all, you both knew and did your best to balance your time with friends and each other anyways.

Plus, he thought it was quite cute that you’d always give him a quick kiss on the cheek when you’d walk by the water fountain before running off with your club members.

[“Suna hurry up!” he heard Atsumu call for him by the entrance of the gym.

Suna spared him one glance before straightening himself up and lifting his palm off the button of the water fountain. He gave the setter a nod as he wiped the corner of his lip with the back of his hand.

Just then, he could hear a familiar voice calling for his name behind him. Not too long after that, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a chaste kiss pressed on his cheek. The corner of his lip twitched up and he looked down to meet your e/c eyes. “Hey bub, don’t you have club activities?” he asked. You nodded, still not letting go of his waist, “just wanted to come and say hello, so...hello” you grinned. Suna smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple, “well hello to you too” he muttered before wrapping his arms around you and embracing you with all his warmth.

“Y/n you piece of shit there you are!”

You jumped back at the sound of your friend’s voice from around the corner. You pulled out of Suna’s embrace and gave him an apologetic smile while rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry Rin gotta run, see you after school!” you didn’t even give him a chance to respond as you placed one last kiss on his jaw before running off to your friends.

Even though he could hear the faint yelling of Atsumu’s voice calling for him at the back of his head, his eyes were focused on the way your face turned red as your friends teased you.

God, who let you be so damn cute]

Suna took out one of his hands from the pocket of his coat and wrapped it over your shoulder and pulled you a bit closer to his side. You leaned into his side and let your hair rest lightly onto his chest.

“You’re so annoying, I’m not making any hot pot for you”

“I will lock you outside of my house”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Stepping inside the Suna household, you were instantly met with warmth. Suna flickered the lights on as you slipped off your shoes. Suna slipped off his own jacket and motioned for you to give yours to him as well so he could hang it up inside the coat closet. You smiled and put the groceries you were holding in one hand and let him help you shrug off your coat.

“Here give me your bag, I’ll place it by the couch,” he said with his hand out. You nodded and handed him your backpack as you slipped on some house slippers and made your way towards the kitchen and settled the bags down onto the island.

As you took the ingredients out of the bag, Suna walked into the living room and turned the TV on to a random show. You were way too invested in deciding which vegetables you wanted to include in the hot pot that you didn’t hear Suna walk towards you with his phone in his hands and the camera app open.

“Babe smile”

“Huh”

Just as you looked up, with mushrooms and green onions in your hand, you hear the sound of the camera shutter go off and Suna snicker. “Cute” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, “I thought you only took blackmail of the twins” Suna put his phone down and raised his eyebrows at you, “would you rather have your face or Atsumu’s all over my gallery?” he asked. You thought about it for a minute before nodding, “yeah no never mind you have a point” he chuckled and walked over to you and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I need to grab my charger really quick, you know where everything is right?” you nodded, you’ve been over at the Suna residence before and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cooked there.

“Do you need anything upstairs?” he asked. Your ears perked up at the sound of his offer, “Can I borrow a hoodie?” you asked. Suna eyed you up and down, “you’re already wearing one of my hoodies” he stated and narrowed his eyes on the navy blue hoodie over your figure. “No, no, I mean can I wear the really soft one? The black one with the embroidering and cool design on the back” you smiled and gave him a look that you both knew he couldn’t say no for.

Suna knew what hoodie you were talking about, it was a hoodie that you often wore of his that he hasn’t brought to school in a bit since it was in the laundry. “Think of it as your payment for me since I’m cooking you a meal” you grinned. Suna sighed, “fine, hands up,” he said as put his phone into his pocket and made his way over to you.

You giggled and did what you were told and lifted your arms up and watched as he held onto the ends of the hoodie and lifted it over your head. Once you felt the sleeves of the hoodie be pulled off your arms, you put them down and straightened your hair and your shirt and smiled up at him, “thank you~” he rolled his eyes “you’re lucky you’re cute” he muttered and looked away which made you laugh. You made your way back to the kitchen and heard his steps going up the stairs.

You sighed as you eyed down the ingredients, you forgot to ask him if his parents may have wanted some. You didn’t wanna cook too much and not have the means to finish it all but you also didn’t wanna make too little and leave you both hungry. “Better more than less” you thought.

You turned around and grabbed the cutting board from one of the cabinets and a knife from one of the drawers. Placing the cutting board and the knife on the marble island, you grabbed the bagged vegetables and placed them on a clean plate and discarded the plastic in the trash bin beside the fridge. You ran the vegetables under some water from the sink to clean them before placing them back on the plate and setting them to the side so you could grab another pot and start boiling the water on the stove.

You were silently thankful that Granny and Shin had helped you learn how to make a proper hot pot. As you opened the packet of udon noodles, you were too much in your zone to notice what was happening around you.

Your cooking was sometimes a hit or miss and with the day you’ve had, you were hungry, and the last thing you wanted was for the meal you took some time to make to taste terrible and leave you hungrier than when you started. The sound of the TV playing in the background drowned and you focused your attention on the cabbage you were cutting.

You were way too concentrated on making sure that each cabbage slice was the same in length as the rest that you failed to hear the sounds of the front door opening and closing and a female figure walking into the home.

“Nii-san~oh what the fuck since when did you cook-”

The sudden voice coming into the kitchen and cutting through your concentration made you jump and unfortunately for you, your finger slipped off the cabbage and met the blade of the knife you were using.

“Oh shit” you hissed in pain and lifted your finger off the cutting board. However, instead of immediately tending to the cut, you looked up at the figure to whom the voice belonged to.

You looked up and made eye contact with a little girl who was definitely not that much shorter than you. Judging from her middle school uniform, she was definitely between the ages of 11-13. She had brown hair tied into two pigtails, rosy cheeks that were the result of the weather outside, and slim grayish-yellow eyes that were awfully familiar.

Your brain must’ve short-circuited as two and two didn’t click in your head and a good couple of seconds passed as you both stared at each other in complete silence, mirroring the shocked and confused expression both of you had on your faces.

Just as you were about to open your mouth and say a word, you watched her face become completely red and she dashed up the stairs leaving you stunned and completely lost while your finger continued to bleed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Suna hummed to himself as he rummaged through his closet and tried to find the hoodie of his that you were asking for. He had changed out of his uniform into some more comfortable clothes and had his back towards the door.

“Shit, where did I put it?” he muttered to himself and closed the doors to his closet. Just as he turned around, the door to his room opened making his eyebrows furrow in annoyance at the amount of force that was used to open his door.

“Babe did you need something-”

“Nii-san! There’s a pretty girl in our kitchen!”

Oh, that was definitely not the voice of his girlfriend.

Suna sighed and went back to his task of finding the hoodie that you wanted, completely ignoring the sudden appearance of his little sister. However, a small smile tugged on his lips as he heard his sister call you pretty.

His sister came into his room and looked at her brother in annoyance as she noticed how nonchalant he looked, “hello?? There’s a pretty girl downstairs that is definitely not ‘kaasan so who-” “Idiot. That’s my girlfriend”

His sister blinked at him once,

Then once again,

And one last time just for good measure.

“HUH??” she yelled with a face of disbelief. Suna looked at her weirdly and watched as she flopped down onto his bed with a bewildered expression as she tried to wrap her mind around the new information she was just given.

“You? Girlfriend? For real?” she asked in shock. The concept of her brother actually getting a girlfriend not clicking in her head. “Are you sure she’s not some group project partner or something?” Suna scrunched his face, “Why do you look so shocked, I told you about her before-” “Nii-san I thought you were lying!” she exclaimed. Suna gave her a blank look and sighed, a part of him not even surprised that his sister thought he was joking.

He rolled his eyes and walked over to slap the back of her head, “Stupid. Why would I lie about that” She gave him an exaggerated shrug, “uh because she’s too pretty for you! She’s even cooking for you! I’m calling it right now that she’s too good for you” she stated and crossed her arms.

“Rizu, you’re so stupid I swear to god-” he asked. Rizu shook her head “Don’t blame this on me!” Suna gave her an unamused look, “even ‘kaasan and ‘tosan know” Rizu rolled her eyes, “I thought they were in on the joke too!” she exclaimed.

Suna shook his head but took a sigh of relief as he finally found the hoodie he was looking for hanging on the back of his chair, “You’re such a twerp. Did you at least say hi to her?” he asked as he looked down at her once he got the hoodie. Rizu’s face flushed in embarrassment and she scratched the back of her head, “Kinda I guess” Suna narrowed her eyes as he caught on to how nervous she got. He suddenly got suspicious, “what did you do?”

“Nothing bad! I think? just don’t get mad ‘kay?” Suna already began to worry about what she was gonna say.

“I came in and called for you, but I didn’t know she was cooking so she must’ve been startled and then next thing you know I come in, and we make eye contact and -oh yeah good job Nii-san, you might be stupid but you’ve got a good eye. She’s wow, took my whole breath away you know?- anyways I had to take a sec to admire her, but I think I startled her and I think she cut herself because her finger was bleeding and then I panicked and yeah now I’m here,” she said all in one breath and met eyes with his blank once as she gave him a bright smile.

“Rizu”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna throw out all your posters”

“Wait what?! No Nii-san come back!!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Rizu say sorry”

Your eyes shifted from your boyfriend who was wrapping a paw patrol bandaid on your finger to the same little girl who stood beside him and was sheepishly looking down at the floor and avoiding all eye contact with you.

Suna sat you down on a chair in the dining room and a part of you was zoning out as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Looking at the girl who has a striking resemblance to Suna, it didn’t take a genius to know that this was his sister. They had the same striking eyes, cocoa brown hair, and she was even a bit taller for her age.

There was no denying it, this was definitely his sister.

But for the life of you, you can’t remember if your quiet bean pole of a boyfriend ever told you of her. Surely you would’ve remembered if he had told you. Did he forget? Or maybe you just failed to notice her presence. Then again you had been over multiple times but you don’t ever remember seeing her.

“Sorry” she muttered quietly and began to play with the material of her school uniform top.

Suna rolled his eyes and nudged her with his elbow, “at least look at her when you’re gonna say it” Just as you were about to interject and say that it was okay and it really wasn’t a big deal, Rizu looked up at you, her eyes glassy and her lip slightly jutting out as she puffed her cheeks, “I’m so sorry! You’re very pretty! My head malfunctioned! Please don’t break up with Nii-san! He’s lonely!” she cried. Your eyes widened, taken back by her “apology” and Suna only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“I-it’s fine really, it’s just a small cut anyways, no biggie Rizu-chan” you assured.

At the way you said her name, Rizu’s whole mood flipped. Her eyes instantly sparkled and she looked up at you with a face of adoration. She wiped away her tears away with the sleeve of her top and harshly pushed her brother to the side making him let go of your hands as he stumbled over. Your eyes widened at the amount of strength inside the little girl in front of you as she managed to push away your 6ft tall boyfriend to the side like it was nothing.

“Really? Are you sure it’s okay? Y/n right? I’m gonna call you Y/n-chan! I think we’d make great friends” she beamed, her eyes still twinkling as she looked at you with an excited daze. “How come we’ve never met before? I thought Nii-san was lying about you. Do you like drama? how about musicals? You can come to my show next week! And are you sure you’re dating Nii-san? You can run now I can distract him for you-” your mind couldn’t even process the words she was saying with how fast she was talking. You felt your palms starting to get clammy and a part of you began internally panicking at how overwhelmed you were feeling.

In Rizu’s perspective, she had always wanted an older sister but was instead cursed with (in her words) a musty older brother. Now that she knew of his girlfriend, she wasn’t gonna let the opportunity slip away. They were gonna become the best of friends. She knew it.

You laughed nervously and nodded along during her incoherent ramble before turning to Suna with a slight look of panic as you didn’t know what to do or how to handle her sudden change of emotions and the never ending fountain of words leaving her mouth.

Suna sensed your need for his help, he knew that little kids were never really your strong point. Along with Kita, you also lived with his little siblings who were your little cousins. They were the ages of 4 and 9 and you often complained to him about how they gave you a headache with how loud and rambunctious they were.

He had to hold back a laugh at how panic you began to look when his sister began to talk your ear off. She kept switching topics and was now rambling on about how pretty you were and asking what moisturizer you used because your skin looked so soft and why you decided to date her brother who she considered looked like a malnourished raccoon.

Shaking his head and holding back a smile, he walked over and flicked his sister’s forehead making her stop midway into her sentence and whine. “The hell was that for!” she cried as she rubbed the sore spot on her head.

Suna rolled his eyes at her dramatics and stuffed one of his hands into his pockets while the other found its way to rest on the small of your back, drawing shapes on the cotton fabric of the black hoodie that he slipped onto your figure when he got back downstairs. “Stop being so rude brat. Relax and introduce yourself first before you start thinking about getting buddy-buddy already” he scolded in his usual bored tone.

You were baffled. Seeing your boyfriend act like a responsible big brother was something you were definitely not prepared to see today.

Hell, you didn’t even know he had a sister until literally a couple of minutes ago.

Suna felt you staring at him and looked down at you with one of his brows slightly raised up as if he was asking if you were okay. Before you could reassure him that you were fine, Rizu cleared her throat and took a step back from you.

She put a hand on her hip while she proudly pointed her thumb to her chest as she looked at you with a confident and prideful smile. “Suna Rizue, Rizu for short, Class 2-B Representative and Vice president of the Nobara Middle School drama club” she exclaims proudly. She flipped away one of her pigtails back behind her shoulder before crossing her arms, the same prideful smile never leaving her lips while her eyes had a flash of mischievousness in them. “I’m also known around this household as the prettiest Suna sibling. ‘Kaasan said so herself” she spoke triumphantly.

You stifled a laugh as Suna clicked his tongue and muttered “dramatic brat” under his breath.

As you felt yourself slowly relax, you stood from your seat, realizing not too long after that you were barely taller than his little sister but chose to ignore that minor detail, you extended your hand out to his sister and watched the way her face lit up. “L/n Y/n, Class 2-5 and member of the Inarizaki art club. While your brother is cute, I have to agree that you are the prettier Suna sibling” you joked and turned to Suna momentarily with a teasing glint with your eyes. Suna only narrowed his eyes at you and furrowed his brows which made both you and Rizu laugh.

You turned back to Rizu and smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Rizu-chan, Rin doesn’t really bring you up much-” or ever “so I’m sorry it took so long for us to meet.”

Rizu shook her head, “It’s okay! Nii-san talks about you sometimes but I thought he was just lying. He’s kind of lame and he zones out a lot so I thought you were just some weird figment of his imagination that he made to cope with his loneliness” your jaw dropped, were kids always this blunt?

Rizu shrugged and pulled her phone out of her backpack, “But whatever, I guess the universe felt bad for him and decided not to make him some lonely loser. Anyways, can we exchange numbers Y/n-chan? I wanna send you Nii-sans baby photos” she smiled and looked up at you hopefully. At the sound of Suna’s baby photos being offered up on the table, you quickly nodded and typed in your contact info into her phone.

Suna’s jaw dropped ever so slightly before scoffing and looking away as he crossed his arms. “Can’t believe my own girlfriend is ganging up on me with my sister” he thought in disbelief.

“Rizu-chan you’re brother and I are gonna make some hot pot, want some?” you asked as you handed her phone back into her hands. Rizu nodded enthusiastically, “that sounds great! Can I help? Please!” she asked in a hopeful tone as she brought her hands together. You laughed and nodded and watched her beam and skip away to the kitchen.

Before following her, you turned around to look up at Suna with a frown on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. Suna looked back at you, unsure of why you were giving him that look. “What?” he asked, which only made you look at him in disbelief at his cluelessness. You scoffed and rolled your eyes before making your way towards him and slapping his arm, “You idiot! You never told me you had a little sister” you hissed.

Suna blinked at you, “I didn’t?” he asked, genuinely confused, while raising one of his eyebrows. You looked at him incredulously and shook your head, “no!” you exclaimed. “God I can’t believe you didn’t tell me” you muttered and looked away, cheeks warming up in embarrassment.

Suna eyed your actions and sighed knowing that he must’ve upset you. If he’s being honest, he didn’t mean to keep you in the dark about his sister. He just always had his mind on you whenever the two of you would hang out so he truthfully forgot about his sister whenever you two were together. He sighed, he leaned back to sit on the edge of the dining room table before grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to his chest.

When you didn’t budge against him, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and he leaned his head on your shoulders before muttering a quiet, “sorry” into the fabric of his hoodie. A couple seconds passed before you gave in and wrapped your arms around his waist, embracing his warmth.

Truthfully you weren’t upset or mad at him, just a bit embarrassed that you never knew about his sister until literally a couple of moments ago. You remember how nervous you were when you first met his parents and felt all those nerves coming back because you wanted to impress his little sister.

You pulled away first and scratched the back of your neck, “It’s fine Rin I’m not mad. If anything I’m just a bit embarrassed that I never noticed. I mean I’ve met your parents and been over multiple times. Plus I’ve slept over like twice already!” you exclaimed.

Suna moved his arms off your shoulder and used one to support his weight on the table while the other moved your hair away from your face and tucked some strands behind your ear. “It’s not your fault, The brat is always away doing her drama club stuff or whatever so she doesn’t get back until I’ve already walked you home for the night. For the sleepover, I think it’s just a coincidence that she would be away while you were over” he said and you nodded.

Suna stared at you for a moment, he caught onto how uneasy you looked and immediately figured out why. “Babe, don’t worry about impressing Rizu too much. Trust me, she already likes you a lot” he said while using his thumb to rub the side of your neck gently.

You nodded slowly before looking up at him with a confused expression, “how did you forget to tell me huh?” you asked. Suna thought back for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly, “I only think of you when we’re together, the brat is old enough to take care of herself” he admitted bluntly.

Your cheeks warmed up and you chuckled making Suna’s chest erupt in butterflies at the sight of your smile. “Calling your sister a brat is kind of rude you know?” you teased. He looked at you with an unamused expression, “you call your little cousins' demon spawns as if that’s any better” he pointed out. You opened your mouth but quickly closed it as you realized he was right.

Suna pushed himself off of the table and walked towards you and you already saw the mischievous look in his eyes. He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing over yours, “am I forgiven?” he asked in a hushed tone. Your face quickly turned into a bright shade of red once you realized how close he got. While the offer was tempting and his lips were right there, you remembered that his sister was only just a couple feet away from the two of you and you didn’t want to risk her seeing anything.

You didn’t answer and only looked away, flustered, which made Suna chuckle. He pecked the corner of your lips before straightening himself up, “I’ll take that as a yes” he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

Suna then grabbed your shoulders and turned you around as he pushed you into the kitchen where his little was sitting on top of the counter wearing a blue apron while a pink folded apron was in her hands.

She looked up at the two of you entering the kitchen, she smiled at you and noticed how flustered you. She shot her brother a look of disgust. “Ew don’t tell me you were making out in the dining room. So gross Nii-san” she commented as her brother walked towards her to grab the extra apron in her hands.

Suna looked at her with his normal bored and lazy expression, “shut it brat” he said before turning his back and making his way towards you. Rizu rolled her eyes and turned her attention back onto her phone. It wasn’t until she started to hear the two of you banter when she put down her phone in her lap and watched the way you and her brother interacted.

She listened to you ask about what vegetables he would want in the hot pot and watched as he moved behind your back and pushed your hair over your shoulder so he could tie the strings of the pink apron behind your neck.

The sight was strange and oddly sweet. Rizu always thought that her brother would be a terrible boyfriend. He was quiet, borderline lazy, and had no romantic bone in him. He seemed like the type of partner who would do nothing but the bare minimum when they’re in a relationship. He was often annoyed at the sight of other couples and he never had much interest in being in a relationship himself which was partly the reason why Rizu didn’t think to believe him when he told their parents that he had a girlfriend out of the blue one day.

[“Rintarou stop playing around” Their mother chuckled.

“No for real, I have a girlfriend and she wants to go stargazing so I’ll be home late” he said monotonically before slipping on his shoes and heading out the door.

Rizu watched as her parents exchanged a lost expression with a mix of disbelief towards each other. Part of them were surprised, part of them were happy, but part of them didn’t know if he was playing around or not.

“Did you know about this?” Their mother asked their Dad who was grabbing a glass from the cupboard. Their Dad only shook his head, “No. You think that’s why he’s been so busy lately?” he asked only to receive a clueless shrug from his wife.

Rizu rolled her eyes and jumped up from the couch to face her parents. “Come on this is Nii-san we’re talking about. He’s probably just lying. He can’t even talk to girls, let alone get a full on girlfriend”]

“That statement didn’t age well” Rizu thought.

Her eyes followed the way he had the smallest smile on his face as he adjusted your apron, asking afterwards if it was comfortable or if you needed him to adjust it better. Once you told him it was okay, he moved onto gathering your hair into his hands and tying it back with the small black silk band he had around his wrist. Suna placed his hands back onto your shoulders to turn you around to face him. He brought his hand over your face and moved the fly-aways to the side while tucking the loose pieces behind your ear.

After he was done, you stood on your tippy-toes and pressed a kiss onto his cheek and whispered a quiet “thank you Rin Rin.” She narrowed her eyes and had to hold back her urge to laugh at how the tips of his ears lit up into a bright shade of red. It was then that she concluded one thing:

“he’s so fucking whipped” she muttered under her breath.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Wait are you serious? He really gave you a can of lemonade for your birthday?” you asked looking up from the meat you were slicing in bewilderment as Rizu nodded. “Mhm! It wasn’t even the brand I liked, it was the generic ones that had too much sugar” she explained as she moved past you to set the bowl of mushrooms she had cut up with the other vegetables.

You turned to look at Suna who was sitting on a stool by the kitchen island with his attention fully on his phone. “Is this true?” you questioned. Suna didn’t even look up from his phone as he simply replied, “she likes lemonade.”

You stifled a laugh at his answer and Rizu only scowled. She nudged your arm and whispered “I dunno how you put up with him” into your ear making you giggle.

Cooking with the Suna siblings was definitely interesting, to say the least. You weren’t surprised to see that Rizu was a complete polar opposite from her brother. Judging from her first words to you, you knew that she was a lot more outspoken than her brother. While Suna was quiet, Rizu spoke as if she had a microphone taped onto her mouth. She was talkative and energetic while Suna always seemed like he was close to shutting off at any given moment.

Their dynamic was different, to say the least. Rizu lived up to the annoying little sister type while her brother looked as if he could care less about whatever she did. However, all siblings had at least one thing in common and between them, and you figured out what that thing was quickly.

They both shared a high level of pettiness.

If one said something the other didn’t like, they’d find something expose worthy to embarrass the other person. It was a constant back and forth of how could embarrass the other person the worst.

When Rizu told you that Suna didn’t learn how to tie his shoelaces until he was 8, Suna told you that she failed her math test. When Suna told you that she once slipped on stage mid-performance, Rizu told you that Suna came to their mother when he needed dating advice.

[ Nii-san shut up! The stage was slippery and my costume was a long dress!” Rizu cried out dramatically. Suna rolled his eyes, “the costumes of your classmates were long but you didn’t see them tripping all over the stage” he teased. Rizu’s jaw dropped, a fire inside lit up as she felt herself getting angry with her older brother. ‘Two can play at this game’ she thought.

Rizu scoffed and turned to face her body towards you as she leaned onto the counter. “You know Yn-chan, Nii-san always asks ‘kaasan about what he should do to impress you! You know that sunflower field date? He and ‘Kaasan planned that whole thing together ‘cause Nii-san is a clueless idiot and didn’t know what to do” You turned your head to the side and looked at Rizu with a curious expression before briefly looking at your boyfriend who had tensed up.

“Really now? Rin had me convinced that he did all the planning himself” you teased as you narrowed your eyes at him. Suna huffed, “she just let me use her card to pay for the stupid tickets, I did everything else.” he muttered.

You chuckled, noticing the way his cheeks puffed out and how the tips of his ears started to turn red. You smiled as you nodded at what Rizu saying, momentarily glancing at him every so often.

How cute.

Suna then looked up from his phone, a devious smirk on his lips as he knew the perfect moment to us in order to one-up her previous statement.

“Babe did you know that Rizu sleeps with an Eren body pillow-”

“shut up!!” ]

It was a never-ending petty battle between the two siblings.

Nonetheless, you could tell that they still cared about each other. Albeit in their own special way.

Rizu rolled her eyes and turned to you and leaned closer, whispering loud enough so that her brother could hear, “Y/n-chan are you sure you’re actually his girlfriend? Like willingly? If he’s paying you then I can guarantee that he’s not paying you enough. Blink twice if you need help-hey!” she whined as she felt a mushroom hit her arm. You both turned to Suna who had a smug smile on his face, “stop talking shit about me brat.” Rizu narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, “or what Nii-san?” she challenged. “I’ll tell ‘kaasan that you walked home with that boy yesterday,” he shot back.

Rizu’s smirked dropped, “hey! You promised you wouldn’t tell her!” she whined. Suna shrugged his shoulders, “I lied” he replied simply. Rizu scoffed, “I can’t believe you’re dating such a meanie!” she exclaimed and began to angrily stir the broth in the pot.

You watched her actions momentarily before walking around the kitchen island and towards Suna and whacking his arm with a towel you were using to dry your hands. “Stop being so mean to your sister!” you scolded. He looked at you with an unamused expression as he rubbed his arm, “she was mean to me first,” he defended himself bluntly. You rolled your eyes and turned your back to go and start frying the beef.

A comfortable silence came into the kitchen as you and his sister continued cooking. Of course, this silence didn’t last long as the two siblings would go back to their back and forth bantering but nonetheless, there was a comfortable and homey aura in the atmosphere.

The hot pot was coming together and you occasionally would have Suna try the meat and make sure that it tasted okay. Suna may not be the one cooking, but he had offered his assistance early on by cutting some of the tofu and cooking the udon noodles. You and Rizu would trail off and have your own conversation, missing the way Suna would glance up at the two of you, his hands propping up his phone as he took photos of the two of you laughing and joking around together.

The rest of the night went by smoothly. Once the hot pot was ready, you asked Suna to prepare the table while you and Rizu set the food down. Since it was nearing 6pm by the time you and Rizu had finished cooking, you all considered this an early dinner. You sat beside Suna while Rizu sat across from you as you all enjoyed a warm bowl of hot pot during a cold winter night.

Suna watched as you and Rizu talked about a certain anime you both had been watching and took everything within him to not smile at the moment. Seeing you interact with his sister warmed his heart and a part of him was relieved that you two got along well.

He knew that Rizu was a bit overbearing and you weren’t a big fan of younger children so he was worried that you two would clash.

But alas, seeing that two of you laugh together put him at ease.

After dinner, Rizu knew better than to try and third wheel you and her brother. She could see from the way his shoulder kept brushing past yours and how his hands kept getting closer and closer to yours during dinner that he was itching to get any sort of alone time with you.

She could be a little shit and steal you from him during another day.

Before scurrying off to her room, Rizu gave you a high five before exclaiming once again that you’re really pretty and way too good for her stupid brother while also saying that she would text you his baby photos later. You laughed and nodded along and she flashed Suna a cheeky smile before running up the stairs.

Once his sister was finally gone, Suna grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the kotatsu sofa in his living room and practically dragged you down. “Well aren’t you clingy” you teased as he pulled up the blankets over your legs. Suna rolled his eyes, muttering a quiet “shut up” as he laid down and made himself comfortable under the blankets.

You mirrored his actions, shuffling under the blankets and finding a comfy spot to lay on. Suna’s hands found their way around your waist and he moved you closer to him, letting your head rest against his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how clingy he was being as you watched him shift so you were laying on top of him while he hugged you as if you were a teddy bear.

Suna leaned his head back comfortably on the couch cushion as closed his eyes and a content smile came over his face. “You’re so warm,” he muttered quietly. You smiled “I think that’s just the kotatsu heating Rin,” you said quietly muttered into his chest. “No it’s definitely you, I always feel warm when I’m with you” he whispered.

You smiled, not failing the way his words made butterflies erupt in your stomach “how cheesy” you teased while momentarily lifting your head so you could poke his cheek. “Whatever” he sighed, his arms around your waist slowly holding you just a bit tighter. “I thought we were supposed to be studying Rin” you said quietly. “Tomorrow, too comfortable right now” he answered back. You giggled, “you just want me to come back huh.” Suna didn’t even bother to deny, only simply nodding and humming a faint “mhm” before relaxing his body.

A wave of comfortable silence came once again as you two embraced each other's warmth. Your ear was pressed against his chest and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into sleep. Slowly but surely you found yourself getting drowsy from your comfortable position and you no longer had any energy left in you to stop your eyes from closing.

Suna wasn’t surprised to hear the faint sounds of your gentle snoring not too long after. For a moment he sat up, careful not to wake you, and he took a moment to just admire you. How soft, gentle, and unbothered you looked in his arms. He removed one of his hands from your waist and gently rubbed your arm, he stiffened for a moment as watched as you shuffled slightly before relaxing against him once again. His body loosened up and a small smile spread on his lips, ‘How could someone be so damn pretty’ he thought.

He admired you for a moment longer. His head replaying the memories you two made in the past 5 months while silently looking forward to what you two had in store together in the future.

He petted your head gently as he wondered starting about what he should do for your 6 months. You’ve been talking about ice skating after seeing it in a movie so he considered that as an option. The idea of seeing you excitedly skating under the twinkling lights of the ice rink made Suna excited. He knew he couldn’t skate, but he didn’t really care. Just sharing the moment with you was enough for him.

Slowly, his own exhaustion from the day soon caught up to him and soon enough he was getting tired as well. He shuffled back down and rested his head on the cushions. He lifted his hands off your waist to adjust the blanket over you two, make sure you were all snuggled up and warm.

Just before he surrendered himself to sleep, he pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and another one on your forehead. Whispering a faint “love you” before closing his eyes, failing to notice the small smile that grew on your lips.

However, he didn’t fail to feel the heart that your finger softly drew on his chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Bonus Scene

“Nii-san can I borrow a pencil?”

Suna looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes at his sister who was standing by his doorway. Suna looked at her blankly, for a moment he grew suspicious of why she suddenly wanted a pencil but he was honestly far too tired to even try and figure out what she really wanted. “It’s on my desk,” he said plainly as he nodded his head over to his desk on the other side of his room.

Rizu nodded and made her way over to his desk that was placed in front of his window. Rizu came in front of his desk and scanned the surface for what she needed. He had an open notebook with unfinished work displayed in the middle while his pen holders lined up the top of his desk.

Rizu saw a pencil sitting inside his pen holder and reached out her hands to take a hold of it. Just as she was about to turn around and leave his room so she could finish up her work, she noticed something taped on the side of his wall that was being covered up by the curtain blowing in front of it.

While she knew it was wrong to snoop around other people's things, she was empty of blackmail against him and that reason alone was enough for her to justify her actions. She turned around to look back at her brother and saw that he was fairly distracted and took that moment as an opportunity to push the curtain aside.

However, instead of finding incriminating blackmail, all she saw was a picture of you and him taped from what looked like to be the inside of the photobooths at the movie theatres. The first picture was of you two smiling (well more you than him), the second was you kissing cheek, the 3rd one he had pulled you to sit on top of his lap and he was now the one kissing your cheek, and the last photo was the two of you smiling genuinely to each other, paying no attention to the camera as you both got too caught up in the moment.

“I hate how they're so cute,” she admitted in her head.

Rizu’s eyes then drifted from the wall that had a bunch of other taped printed photos of you and him to his window sill where a bunch of little trinkets were displayed along with a singular photo frame.

Her eyes looked over the little trinkets. He had some action figures and random knick-knacks. Nothing interesting in her opinion. “Typical boy stuff, nothing I can use against him,” she thought. Looking past the small transformers' action figure, she kept looking at his window sill until she stopped and stared at a paper box full of little things inside. She squinted her eyes, her eyes having a hard time seeing what it was with how dark it was in his room. She leaned closer and upon further inspection, it finally dawned on her what was inside the box.

It was a bunch of little origami strawberries.

A bunch of little origami strawberries piled on top of each other, some had wrinkled leaves while others had bent corners. Rizu then looked back at his desk and saw a small stack of red and green papers neatly set on the corner of his desk.

“weird,” she thought.

Her eyes shifted from the paper box to the small white square frame where there was a photo of you inside sitting at the edge of the window sill.

Surrounding you were rows and rows of sunflowers that were facing towards the sun. You were clad in a pretty dress with small floral patterns along with a small sun hat on your head that was tipped back so the sun was hitting your face. Your hair was blown back behind your shoulder, your left hand was holding a bunch of sunflowers while your right hand was resting on top of your hat, holding it down so it wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. Your eyes were closed and you had the warmest smile on your lips as you were basking into the afternoon sunshine. The sunlight was kissing your skin so perfectly that she swore you were glowing. You looked so peaceful, relaxed, and content. It was clear that you weren’t trying to pose for the camera, this photo captured you and all your natural beauty.

You looked ethereal.

She looked back at her brother and back at the basket of origami strawberries and the photo frame and concluded one other thing.

“what a fucking simp”

a/n: yes it’s may but this story takes place in december oops

UGH WORDS CANT DESCRIBE HOW SUNA AND Y/N MAKE ME SO HAPPY. DEADASS THIS EXTRA WARMED MY HEART AND SO I HOPE IT WARMED YOUR HEART TOO.

I promised a while back that I was going to make an extra that featured suna’s little sister. Personally, I feel like Suna’s sister with be the complete opposite of him. Hence why I wrote her to be very dramatic and enthusiastic. He’s probably able to put up with the miya twins bullshit because his sister already made him go through so much LMAO

I’m uncertain if this is going to be my last extra for club stupid. I have one last long fic idea in mind but truthfully I’m not sure when I’ll get to writing it </3

Regardless, thank you guys so much for the love and appreciation for this series. It really means a lot to me and I’m glad to see people continue to enjoy it :)

a/n 2: ayo where do i find myself a suna? genuinely asking and in need of help.

taglist! [CLOSED] @aircorumble@elianetsantana @versatilewindow @introvertatitsfinest @aristatrois @mizukisonoda @amberisnotcrazy @kritiiiii @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @a-moon-fairy @akaasht @lotusweebs @marvelous-maxi @laughingismorefun @hhmnvm @sweetyrina @honeydrip @miracleboy420 @rachelexe @charsdummb @mjoork @loser-keiji @dinablossom @ntimacy @kac-chowsballs@unhappyraspberry @sbaepsae @doebopeepeebbod @missalienqueen@ssuna @violenthead @unstableye @tycrackculture @a-applepi i @lollyzen @aisawa-reo @ashybitch89 @sunflowerirl @sapphicstarss @melodiamore @valrubiii @urbasicaveragegirl @mint-mai @4kaashl @sugawsites @anngelllla @applekenm @bumblebeesofspace @dreamstormings @milkingkageyama @tsumu-core @luvelyxp @aquariarose

[it’s been a long time since I updated this series so i apologize if I am unable to tag you 🥲]

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu smau #suna #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna imagines #suna rintarou imagines #suna fluff #club stupid

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spencersweetie · 3 years

Text

Coincidence (Spencer x GN!Reader Onseshot)

Category: Fluff

Summary: Spencer and Reader accidentally have a museum date when they run into each other.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none <3

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“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name. You turned around and faced a familiar man whom you’d met through your friend Penelope. Spencer stood smiling at you with his hands in his pockets. He energetically waved at you.

You grinned back at him. “Hey Spencer! What a crazy coincidence, us both being here at the same time.” You had spontaneously decided to visit the National Gallery of Art since you had a free day to yourself over the weekend.

“Totally!” He responded. “I’m supposed to have the whole weekend off so I thought I’d revisit the gallery. How are you?”

“I’m alright! You’re revisiting? How many times have you been here? This is my first time seeing the gallery.” You had been to other art museums in Maryland but never the National Gallery of Art since you had recently moved to D.C. a year ago.

Spencer chuckled lightly. “This would be my ninth time coming here. I saw the gallery for the first time when I was nine years old and couldn’t keep myself away from this place.

“Wow!” You exclaimed. “I don’t blame you, I’ve only seen the sculpture garden and the first few pieces in this wing so far and everything is gorgeous; I’m in love already.”

“You know what, I’ve got the building memorized!” Spencer eagerly informed you. “If you want, I could be your personal guide and show you the best parts of each exhibit and take you on the most efficient path through the museum! I mean, you don’t have to say yes, it’s up to you.”

“Spencer, that’d be awesome, I’ll totally tag along if you’re cool with that!” You beamed at him, trying to hide your excitement. You usually went on trips like these alone so it was nice to have someone who could enjoy the same thing as you by your side.

“Great, let’s go!” Spencer turned and gestured towards the next exhibit.

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As you and Spencer explored the museum together, you noticed how abnormally comfortable you felt around him. You two had never hung out without Penelope so this was a first for you both. Even without your mutual friend, you found that Spencer was both easy to listen to and easy to talk to. He of course knew a lot about the art in the gallery and thoroughly explained each piece to you but you appreciated that he never talked to you like you were dumb or lesser than him. He regularly asked if you were okay with his infodumps as well, which you completely didn’t mind. You could tell that he undoubtedly had a passion for the arts, and you liked that he was so enthusiastic to share that with you.

While you did certainly find Spencer’s interesting facts to be intriguing, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you looked at him from the side. He didn’t notice your looking as he faced the painting while he talked to you, completely occupied by the piece that was on the wall in front of him. You liked the way he spoke about the art that he showed you. Spencer was very animated, clearly demonstrating his excitement about whatever he was explaining in the movement of his hands. His face was quite expressive too. His eyebrows rose and fell as he talked and his eyes squinted and widened as he conversed with you. You hadn’t noticed how pretty Spencer’s eyes were until now, how his irises were brown but with little gold specks on the inside. You liked that when he wrinkled his nose in the middle of a sentence, his scrunch reached the top of his nose bridge between his eyes. His nose was a nice nose, you thought. It enhanced his side profile and turned slightly upwards when he smiled too. And his lips. Today you noticed that his lips were quite… pink. And full. And plump. You had to catch yourself when your eyes traveled down from Spencer’s eyes to his mouth when he spoke, then hope that he didn’t notice your distraction. You just liked that way he smiled, that’s all, you told yourself. He often kept his smile as he talked and continued to smile when you spoke to him too. You liked the way his lips puckered when his smile grew bigger as he finished his sentences. It seemed like an uncontrollable habit of his-

“Y/N?” Spencer interrupted your thoughts. He looked at you with his brows slightly raised.

“Hm, yeah?” Your mind snapped back to the present moment. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

“Are you okay? Am I boring you? We could stop here if you want!”

“No, Spencer- it’s fine!” You jumped to explain. “You’re good, I promise! I’m not bored, I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. Um, the only da Vinci painting in the U.S. right? Is this one here?”

“Exactly!” Spencer lit up and straightened his posture. “Da Vinci painted less than 20 oil paintings throughout his career; this one was bought for $5 million and arrived in D.C. in 1969!”

“Damn!” You exclaimed. “So that makes this portrait like, the Mona Lisa of the National Gallery, huh?”

“Absolutely!” Spencer agreed with you. “The gallery has other Da Vinci pieces displayed but none that are as rare and valuable as an oil painting of his. This one, Ginerva de’ Benci, is a portrait of a daughter of a banker, most likely commissioned when she was about 16 and just engaged. You know, the juniper bush is what’s in the background. Juniper represents chastity which was one of the most significant traits of a woman in the Renaissance era. It’s kind of a subtle little pun, including the juniper plant, because in Italian the plant is called ginepro.”

“Oh! Ginepro, Ginerva! That’s so cute, I love it!” You told him. “I like how there’s like no fancy jewelry or finery on her in this portrait too. It’s different from the Renaissance portraits of the other ladies that we saw.”

“Yeah, it’s a little bit of a surprise when it comes to a portrait like this that she isn’t completely dressed up! It doesn’t reveal her family’s wealth like portraits commonly do. I love that you noticed that.” Spencer’s lips turned at the corners in appreciation of your attention to detail. “Let’s move onto the next one!”

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You and Spencer moved on through the exhibit, then through the rest of the museum. You two enjoyed each other’s company for the day and were able to see all the art in three hours. As you exited, you found yourself laughing as you and Spencer recalled the events of the day. “I still can’t believe they kept trying to pay you for a private tour even after you insisted you weren’t a museum tour guide!” You laughed into your hand which was clapped over your mouth, trying not to draw attention to you and Spencer.

“Shut up!” Spencer jokingly rolled his eyes at you. “I hate that they were gathered around me too, attracting a crowd while trying to hand me money. I don’t even wear a uniform like the other employees!” Spencer cracked up along with you, shaking as he pictured himself standing next to you, explaining to a group of strangers that he was just visiting with a friend, not working for the gallery.

You shrieked with laughter, uncontrollably gasping for air as you tried to calm yourself. “Then when they said they would call the gallery and get you fired for denying customers!” Tears were coming out of your eyes from being unable to stop laughing. “And you just went ‘Okay!’ and walked off without me!” You missed a step and tripped, grabbing Spencer’s arm as you fell into him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You were half still dying from laughing and half freaking out from your mistake. “I didn’t mean to grab you, I know you’ve got a germ thing! I think I just got a little carried away and wasn’t careful enough to watch my step!” You frantically apologized to Spencer. “Are you okay?”

Spencer grinned at you and dusted you off on your shoulders. “Relax, Y/N. I know you’re not germy; I’m not gonna freak out if you touch me. And I’m fine, you’re the one who fell!” He reassured you. “Are you okay? Do you need a second? You’re pink in the face, I don’t know if from laughing or from tripping on the step.”

“I’m fine, I’m good! Thank you Spencer.” You replied, still hot around your face. “Let’s just get out of here before I start to laugh and embarrass myself again.” You chuckled. “Are you free for the rest of the day? We could get something to eat if you’re hungry!”

Spencer smiled at you. “Yeah, I’m free! Do you like Indian? There’s this new place that’s about 10 minutes from here-”

A loud ringing cut his sentence off. Spencer sighed and apologetically looked at you before whipping his cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah?” He spoke into the phone.

He listened for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m in D.C. but I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thanks, Penelope.” Spencer hung up and shoved his phone back into his coat.

“Got a case?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I know we were supposed to-”

“Spence!” You stopped him. “You don’t have to apologize, we didn’t even plan on hanging out today!”

Spencer’s eyes softened; he expected you to express disappointment before anything else and was surprised that you were understanding instead. He smiled and nodded. “Okay, but we could still check out the new Indian place another time, yeah?”

You felt butterflies in your stomach emerging. “Of course. Thank you for today, Spencer. I had an amazing time.”

“Me too, Y/N. I’ll text you when we get back!”

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment your thoughts or send anon feedback, anything is appreciated <33

133 notes · View notes

pikemoreno · 3 years

Text

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter VI: Violets

a/n: and we’re back! so excited to finish this story in 2021! we’re about halfway through now! really appreciate you all for sticking with me through hiatus! happy new year!

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst :), nothing is solved, like one bad word, this burn is so slow :)

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“There’s nothing going on here, there never will be anything going on here, alright?” your words rang in his skull like awful, thunderous aftershocks.

In truth, he really had been just trying to leave. He and Adrian had received a message that they had a new case for the morning. It’d come in after hours.

Hennigan Gallery robbery. John Hennigan killed.

The group responsible was one they’d been chasing for a while, but their heists had never ended in a murder. Marcus had never been on *any* case that ended in murder. As such, Marcus quickly excused himself from sitting with Adrian to head home a bit early and get through some prep work. He waltzed towards the front door only to find that the foyer was where Wendy had dragged you off to. He didn’t mean to listen in, really. It was very obviously a private conversation that he wanted no part of, but in waiting for a break in conversation to try to sneak by he had heard the last of it.

It was enough to know that you were talking about him. Enough to know that he should’ve interrupted and thereby saved himself the ache of hearing how you actually felt about your relationship to him.

Nothing?

You certainly weren’t “nothing” to him. You were, well, not quite everything. Not yet, he hadn’t let himself go that far, but you were certainly something.

He felt your eyes drilling into him as he slipped past. What exactly did you want him to say? He thought as he gritted his teeth, letting the door fall closed behind him a little too loudly.

In that moment he felt the most uneasy mixture of heartbreak and anger. He wasn’t a generally angry person, but the flippancy of your “nothing” cut deep. It was like you were giving Wendy an obvious answer. It flowed so naturally from your lips.

He’d once again gone too far, assumed he meant more, assumed this would turn out any different from any other relationship he’d found himself in. How did he go so wrong a third time? He’d really tried to take it so slowly, but still show that he did have some kind of intention with you. It had seemed at the time that you’d picked up on the good-natured flirting. Had it been too much? Not enough? Was he really that hard to love? He couldn’t afford to try to decipher it all. What hurt the most is that he had to hear it like this. It wasn’t because he took a chance and it wasn’t because you wanted to be honest with him. No, it was something he was never supposed to hear in the first place. Fate’s cruel trick. Though he guessed it was better to know than to continue being blissfully unaware.

But was it really better?

The Tuesday morning alarm was a rude awakening for Marcus, mostly because it wasn’t much of an awakening. Sleep had evaded him, just as he had expected it to after the events of the evening. He got up quickly-- better to keep busy than sit around, lost in miserable thinking. He didn’t work that way anymore. If he spent every day of heartbreak wallowing instead of pushing forward, well, it’d be a pretty significant chunk of his life at this point.

After all, this shouldn’t be all that depressing right? It’s not like you two really were anything. Or that you’d even known each other for all that long. It’d been a matter of weeks. What were you to him anyway? You’d helped each other with a problem, that problem seemed to now be solved. The deal was done. You didn’t owe him anything. You could, and should, part ways in peace, go back to being work acquaintances that nodded at each other in the hallway and made small talk at the water cooler.

That’s what people with “nothing going on” do, right?

Nothing.

But then what was all of that?

Just… nothing.

He left his place without eating breakfast.

Time to get to work-- and pray he didn’t see you.

The air in the office felt different the moment you stepped inside, but you decided that might’ve just been your impression. It felt like everyone you passed was staring at you. It was like they knew you’d inadvertently broken the heart of everyone’s best work friend last night.

You guessed you deserved the cold treatment in that case-- even if it was only an imagined one.

The words had been out of your mouth before you could even recognize what you were saying. You were frustrated and felt cornered by Wendy’s questions that hit at too deep of a truth. You didn’t even mean them, but you knew it would take more than an excuse like that to explain the situation to Marcus. If you told him you didn’t mean it, then you’d have to tell him what you did mean, and that was a conversation you found yourself reluctant to have.

Over the past twelve hours or so you’d taken the time to process what you actually meant, to understand it for yourself. In truth? You did like Marcus. It’d been a matter of weeks, but he had completely wormed his way into your guarded affection. He was caring and intentional and kind, with the goofiest sense of humor and the biggest love for breakfast food you’d ever seen. You truly couldn’t believe how anyone could’ve let him go.

But of course, now you were doing the same. You didn’t like the way that realization sat in your chest. You let him go before you ever really had him, refusing to even bring him in in the first place out of fear. This had to be remedied, and quickly. The office felt different now without him in your corner.

You looked regretfully at your schedule filled to the brim with interrogations. Interrogations that were originally supposed to be with Marcus by your side. Now he was reassigned to the Hennigan Gallery case and Wendy had taken his place with you. Probably for the best anyway, but damn, it would be good to see his face right about now. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t made his usual trip by your desk this morning to say hello.

A tap on your desk ripped you from your thinking and a split second of hope burned in your chest as you looked up.

No, not Marcus. Of course not. It was Wendy, eyes filled with compassion. Her voice was soft and sympathetic as she asked if you were ready to go downstairs and question the first person. You nodded simply, quietly gathering your things and standing to walk beside her. The silence didn’t break until the elevator doors closed behind you both.

“I’m so sorry about what happened yesterday and my part in it. Don’t get me wrong, that was a conversation you needed to have, but I should’ve waited to have that conversation with you,” Wendy pleaded. You sighed.

“It’s alright, Wendy. It’s not really your fault. It’s mine. If I would’ve told you the truth, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did.” Your confession was met with a confused silence, so you clarified after a beat. “These past few weeks I’ve really started to,” you mentally scrolled through the possible words you could use and found they all choked you before you could even begin to utter them.

Like.

Need.

Want.

Fall for.

“F-feel what you think i’m feeling… For Marcus. And the thought of that-- being asked about it-- just really freaked me out.”

In your peripheral you could see Wendy shake her head and you heard her breathe out the smallest laugh.

“What?” you groaned, both of you continuing to stare straight ahead as the elevator doors parted open.

“You are the most emotionally constipated person I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

You stepped out together, taking an immediate right to greet the first of the Elizabet Ney Museum employees you had to question.

You couldn’t stop your foot from bouncing as you now sat back at your desk, wracking your brain over the notes you’d taken over the past few hours of interrogations. The Elizabet Ney heist was proving itself more and more as a tough nut to crack. There was too little information, too small of a suspect pool, and absolutely no evident motivation. Today you’d questioned every volunteer and employee that’d stuck even a toe in the museum in the past year and all of them seemed just as lost as you were.

Jane Meran, a 70 year-old retiree volunteer and avid art fan couldn’t imagine any reason why anyone would want the stolen goods. They couldn’t have been worth much, she laughed. Her alibi for the day of the crime was as honest and clear as the look in her incredulous eyes as she heard about the theft for what was apparently the first time.

The three sixteen year old volunteers who had been there that day-- Jeremy, Etta, and Leslie-- all snorted at the mere thought of any of them being the culprit.

“Who cares about all of that junk?” they’d remarked. Their alibis were solid: they’d left their required community service hours for school and went and got high at a friend’s house. Etta had smacked Jeremy for that admission.

“This is the FBI dumbass. You’re gonna get us in trouble.” Her whisper was loud enough for you to still hear. You sighed.

Tony Berrara, an assistant manager of sorts and one of two people who’d brought in the artifacts-- the other of which was Mrs. Moa-- sang the very same tune. He had heard the endless nagging of the surviving family members who brought the heirloom and the bust all day while unloading it. They had told him over and over to be extremely careful lest he break either one, but he didn’t think they seemed all that special, not compared to some of the other items that had been procured for the museum. His alibi for later that evening was equally as airtight.

And that was it for the initial suspects. As you had already figured out, there was absolutely no motivation here, and that fact was now exacerbated by the alibis, all confirmable by outside sources. Back to the drawing board. You bit the end of your pen as you thought, looking out the windows at the panoramic view of the surrounding city.

This case was going to require a little more intensive research. You wondered regretfully if Marcus had done any research before getting moved to the new case. He probably had; he always seemed to be prepared for anything-- obnoxiously so. Your glance fell back to your desk, dropping your pen as you rested your forehead in your hands.

You could always just ask him.

Or you could do it yourself.

Or you could ask him.

That’d be a good way to talk to him, you reasoned. While you were at it you could clear the air.

With a gulping breath, you stood up and headed to the elevator.

Marcus had had a very very weird morning.

It started off by him being so lost in his head that he had forgotten that he was supposed to go to the Special Crimes offices for the week. He was met with caution tape strung across the entrance to his usual floor and quickly hit the button to take him back down to the 5th floor. Of course it was too late by the time he punched the number and the elevator descended all the way back down to the lobby.

There was a woman waiting at the bottom and the moment of confusion as she waited for him to get off was more embarrassment than he felt that he could handle at 8am.

“It’s ok. I’m going back up,” Marcus said sheepishly as the brunette finally stepped in. She noddly simply, but smiled at him as she replied.

“We’ve all been there.”

The way she kindly tried to ease his embarrassment made him feel about fifty pounds lighter. He grinned back. She had a harsh face, but her smile was infectious.

The elevator dinged as it approached the 5th floor and he and the woman bumped shoulders as they attempted to get off at the same time.

Marcus mentally smacked himself for not paying better attention. He was always the “after you” guy on elevators.

“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, please,” he recovered, stepping back into place. Her look was quizzical, as if she wanted to ask him something, but she seemed to let it go as she stepped through the doors and turned the opposite direction from where Marcus was headed.

He was beyond grateful for that.

He made it into the glass conference room right on time for the team’s meeting with the distraught Mrs. Hennigan. That was the most normal part of the morning, that is, until a particularly brash blond man by the name of Patrick Jane waltzed into the room like he owned the place and somehow managed to take over the case. Marcus had allowed it for the simple fact that he felt way out of his depth in dealing with a murder case, but he couldn’t say he was particularly excited about working with the irritating man whose reputation proceeded him.

Next thing Marcus knew, he was briefing an entire room of Art Squad and Special Crimes Agents on this theft-murder case that’d become so much more than he had initially signed up for.

Then he saw her.

The woman from the elevator, walking into the meeting. He locked eyes with her for just a moment before checking himself and getting back to business.

She listened intently throughout the whole thing, looking him directly in the eye as he spoke, making the occasional comment. And soon he was finding he could only look at her.

Oh no.

Not again.

It was too soon.

But didn’t everyone deserve a rebound?

And it’s not like you’d even been together, right?

There was no harm in taking interest in a woman that was more and more obviously interested in him by the second…

Right?

He attached to her side the moment the meeting ended. She was bright-eyed and curious, asking him all sorts of questions about art and specifically about the confiscated art storage in the basement.

“Do you wanna go see it?” he beamed, revealing the dimple on his cheek.

In that moment, he’d felt more important than he had in days-- weeks, even. Last night’s events had colored the past few weeks in such a way that he looked at them with a totally new perspective.

He hadn’t really mattered to you. He was a means to an end. A way to get your boss off your back. At best, he was an acquaintance.

But here? In this moment? He was important. Someone cared about him-- or at least what he had to say. That was a start.

The oddest moment of the day, though, came as he walked the woman-- Teresa, he’d discovered her name was-- out of the conference room to take her down to see the Art Squad’s “Aladdin” area in the basement. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of a distinct multi-colored cardigan disappear around the corner. In his peripheral, it looked just like the one he’d seen you wear almost every day for the past week. But that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t expecting to see you anytime soon, at least not because you were purposefully on his floor.

He’d probably imagined it.

Just ghosts of the past.

The elevator dinged, signaling it was time to go down.

#marcus pike x reader #agent pike x reader #iyewbil #bri writes

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seokjinsdisciple · 3 years

Text

It’s a Deal - eight

supernatural! johnny x reader x jaehyun, mate!au

Word Count: 2.3k

not a great update but oh well

tags: @thatonekpopsweater, @queen-of-himbos , @yourchasingsunsetslove, @a-brooding-bird, @sokkigarden, @tardis-world, @etherealbyeol, @mylovelyjisungie

i made a plalist! listen if you want!! spotify | apple music

send me a dm or an ask to be on the taglist

warnings: language, supernatural stuff, arguing, death, lowkey panic, crying, i think thats it

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You were wrapped in the comfiest fuzzy blanket you owned, legs draped over Johnny’s lap and head resting on Jaehyun’s chest.

“Why do you get the whole couch?” Jaehyun whined, the rumbling of his chest wiggling your head.

“Because it’s my house, and I bought it,” you said back, never taking your eyes from the tv.

“We’d have a lot more space if we were at the palace,” he snarked back, letting out a huff of air as Johnny smacked him on the back of the head, “What? You know it's true!”

“You can go back to the palace whenever you want,” you added, grinning at his pinch to your side.

“You’re trying to get rid of me!” He pouted, returning the slap to the back of the head he’d gotten to Johnny after he let out a chuckle.

The three of you fell back into silence, Jaehyun’s fingers carding through your hair as you watched the show playing on the tv. You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, the warmth from your blanket and the two boys surrounding you making it almost impossible to keep your eyes open. You managed to tear your eyes open as Jaehyun stiffened beneath you, looking questioningly between him and Johnny, who had stood up.

“What’s going on?” you grumbled, sitting up as Jaehyun practically pushed you from his lap. You watched the two brother’s closely, heart rate increasing as you noticed the sullen look on Johnny’s face. Jaehyun looked even paler than normal, his eyes locked onto Johnny’s in a panic that you had never seen before.

“Doyoung just killed our father,” Johnny spoke lowly, eyes never leaving Jaehyun’s.

You glanced uneasily at Jaehyun, “So he’s...he’s the king now?”

“We need to go back, Jae,” Johnny spoke, “It’s not safe for you here.”

Jaehyun just nodded slowly, the panic on his face only increasing as they pulled on their coats.

“You’re coming with us,” Johnny added, tossing your coat to where you sat stunned on the couch.

“But my finals are tomorrow!” you protested weakly, not saying another word as Johnny shot you a look. You shrugged your coat on, not saying anything as Jaehyun grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers.

The palace was much different from the last time you had been here. The flowers in the front withered and lifeless. The colors in all of the halls were muted, as if the King dying had killed the palace too.

“It is kinda like that,” Johnny glanced at you, “It’ll stay this way until Jae’s coronation.”

“Why?” you asked, wincing slightly as Jaehyun squeezed your hand tightly, his eyes glazed over and focused straight in front of him.

“The king’s power is directly tied to the palace and the land, so when a king passes away the land kinda dies with it. At least until another king is crowned and it has power to feed from again.”

You nodded, falling silent as the doors to the ballroom swung open. You were met with some of the familiar faces that had watched you so closely from the small thrones around the king the night you had been announced as Jaehyun’s future wife. There were some faces you hadn’t seen before, but from the sullen looks on their faces you figured they were either family or very close advisors.

You let go of Jaehyun’s hand, falling behind him as all eyes on the room flickered to the three of you.

“Where the hell were you?” a dark haired boy said, jaw clenching as he glanced from Jaehyun to Johnny, scoffing as his gaze fell onto your form, “Of course.”

“Mark,” Johnny tensed, “Enough.”

“You literally have one job Johnny!” The boy, Mark, raised his voice, “Protect the family, and instead you’re off with your-”

“Quiet,” Jaehyun’s voice sounded from beside you, his authoritative tone enough to have everyone in the room’s attention, “I understand you’re upset. We all are. But rather than fighting with, and blaming each other, we need to band together and fucking kill that bastard.”

“Whatever you say, your majesty,” Mark spoke, sarcasm dripping from his words as he bowed lowly towards Jaehyun. Not giving Jaehyun a chance to say anything as he walked past him, knocking his shoulder into Jaehyun’s as he walked out of the door.

“Give him some time, dear,” a middle aged woman spoke up, soft smile doing nothing to hide her reddened eyes, “You know how close he was with your father.”

Jaehyun just gave a curt nod, walking over to where the rest of the group stood.

“Let’s get to work then,” he spoke, sweeping his hand in front of him, a table of roots appearing immediately in front of the family, “Johnny, fill me in on the position of our men, and the last known location of Doyoung’s men.”

Johnny stepped up to the table, flicking his wrist as a map unfolded on the table. Before he began talking he glanced towards you.

“Jeno, Jaemin,” He called, “Why don’t you give YN here a tour of the palace?”

The two familiar boys just shot each other a glance before walking over to you and practically dragging you from the room. They closed the door quickly shooting weary smiles to each other before the barely taller one slung his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m Jaemin,” he grinned, “and that’s Jeno.”

“Hi,” you spoke, returning their smiles.

“We swear the palace is usually way more fun than right now,” Jeno added, grabbing one of your hands and urging you to start walking.

“I mean seriously,” Jaemin rolled his eyes, “One assassination and you’d think the world was ending!”

You glanced at him, thoroughly confused at how he could speak so casually about the death of his father.

“Mm,” Jaemin laughed, “Jae was right, it’s way too easy to get into your brain.”

“Not our father,” Jeno grinned, “Our mother’s the Queen, but that man was as far from a father to us as he could’ve been.”

“I resent the fact that you’re ‘getting into my brain’ or however you put it,” you mumbled, holding back from asking if the King was just a shitty father or if the Queen had an affair.

“Just a shit father really,” Jeno added, giving you a sheepish smile as you shot a glare at him.

“If you really don’t like others listening to your thoughts you could ask Mark to help,” Jaemin spoke up.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” you said, almost bumping into the door where the boys had halted.

“Mark was our dad’s favorite, so he’s taking this pretty hard,” Jeno said.

“He’ll get over it though,” Jaemin added, dramatically swinging the door in front of you open.

You felt your jaw drop, the enormous room that you were peeking into was filled floor to ceiling with books. You couldn’t help but step into the library, looking at every part of the room.

“Johnny said you’d like the library,” Jeno smiled proudly, standing beside you and glancing around the room too.

“This is incredible,” you breathed, walking over to the nearest bookshelf and running your hand over the spines.

“Ok, yes it has books. Whoop dee doo,” Jaemin groaned from behind you, “There’s a million cooler rooms in this palace. Can we please move on now?”

“You can explore this room more tomorrow,” Jeno added, laughing as Jaemin desperately tugged on Jeno’s wrist.

“So tell us more about how you and Johnny met,” Jaemin prodded, his arm returning to your shoulders as you walked together down the halls. You were quickly learning that Jaemin was more mischievous of the two brothers, Jeno being much quieter and calmer than him.

“Uh, well we had a class together our first year,” you said, “and we had the same major so we were kinda always together.”

“I didn’t realize he seriously went to human school,” Jeno said, a thoughtful look passing his face as you just nodded.

“Have you fucked him yet?” Jaemin asked, wiggling his eyebrows as you choked on air.

You stuttered as memories from freshman year flashed in your mind. Johnny’s back muscles rippling against your skin, his abs glistening with sweat.

“Oh my god he has bedded you!” Jeno practically yelled, slightly disgusted look completely opposite of Jaemin’s knowing smirk.

“Was he good?”

“Jaems I am not answering that!” You said, shrugging his arm from your shoulder and lightly smacking him.

“It’s ok, doll,” Jaemin said, rubbing the spot you had smacked with his free hand, “We both know what you are thinking.”

You just groaned, hitting Jaemin first and then deciding to hit Jeno too. That’s for reading my mind you assholes.

“It’s not our fault,” Jeno pouted, “You’re practically screaming them at us.”

“Just get on with the tour,” you sighed, trying your best to keep your mind empty as they returned to their mission. They led you to the kitchen, through four dining rooms, around the art gallery and into the game room. Constantly making fun of your looks of awe. They hurried you through the jewel room, pointed out the gym and swimming pools. They even led you to the liquor room, Jaemin pressing a finger to his lips as he grabbed a bottle of wine.

Jaemin pointed out far too many bedrooms for you to remember, laughing as you tried to figure out who the hell half of the people he was even naming were. He pointed out both Jaehyun’s and Johnny’s room, giving you a knowing look as you tried to commit both of the locations to memory.

It was with a smile that you found yourself stumbling down a familiar hallway, Jeno pointing out his room, and then your own room.

“And at the very end of the hallway is my room,” Jaemin winked, “So if you ever need someone to keep your bed warm, you know where to find me.”

“I really hope you’re kidding, brother,” Johnny’s voice rang out from behind the three of you.

“You know I always am,” Jaemin smiled easily, giving you a short wave before walking the rest of the way down the hallway and into his bedroom.

Jeno looked awkwardly between where you and Johnny stood before muttering out a quick goodnight and walking to his room.

“I hope they didn’t bother you too much,” Johnny said, walking closer to you and taking you by the hand, “The twins can be a lot to handle.”

“They were mostly nice,” you smiled at him, laughing as you heard Jaemin swear at you from down the hallway. Johnny smiled back at you, but you could tell he was exhausted.

“Am I that easy to read?” he asked, pulling you into your room.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, letting him pull you onto one of the couches in your room, “You wanna talk about it?”

Johnny just slid his hands across his face, in some attempt to relieve some of the tension in his body.

“I just feel like this is my fault,” he started, playing with your fingers as he talked, “I should’ve been here to prevent the attack.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, “If anything, I feel like it’s mine. I’m just some helpless human girl that has no business being involved in any of this. You were just trying to make sure I was ok.”

“Yeah but that was for completely selfish reasons,” he groaned, “and to be honest I’m feeling kinda guilty because I think I’d still make the same decision.”

“Can I ask why?” you spoke quietly, meeting his eyes, “Why are you so set on protecting me?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” he said simply, looking away from you. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments after that, the air heavy around you as you thought.

“When can I go back?”

Johnny looked over to you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that you weren’t going back anytime soon.

“It’s just safer for you to be here,” Johnny said, looking down at the hand that was intertwined with yours, “and now that Jaehyun has...transitions to make it’s important you’re around as many people who can protect you as you can.”

The two of you jumped slightly as a loud knock rang out on your door.

“It’s Jaehyun,” Johnny said, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watched as his form disappeared with a snap, the space where he had been sitting next to you, now empty. You got up as another knock sounded at the door.

As soon as you threw the door up Jaehyun was hugging you, his shoulders shaking as he whimpered. You immediately hugged him back, pulling him into your room and out of the hallway.

He was almost choking on his sobs, and you patiently held him until he calmed down.

“M sorry,” he hiccuped, “It’s just, you’re the only one I can show my weaknesses too.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, rubbing his back as he still clung to you.

“I don’t even want to be King,” he whispered, “I never have. I used to think that it would be a long time before it would happen, and I- I just thought I had more time. I’m not going to be any good at it.”

“Jaehyun you’ll be a fine king.”

“I’m not ready,” he whispered, “Everyone thinks I’m this perfect prince, ready for anything but they have no idea.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, his breathing regulating. He sniffled as he pulled away from you. His shy smile, teary eyes and flushed cheeks enough to have your heart racing.

“Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” he asked, “I just don’t think I can bear sleeping alone tonight.”

“Of course,” you smiled back, wiping the tears from his eyes before you both began getting ready for bed.

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leejeongz · 3 years

Text

first kiss with CIX

requested: yes, by anon

🔅thanks for requesting! i hope you like it 🥺 i’m so sorry it took so long, i wanted to take my time with it hehe🔅

a/n- from now on, i am not going to add gifs to reactions. i am aware that some gifs creators aren’t happy when people use them and so i don’t want to fuel their anger anymore as i can completely understand their point.

💙bx:

even though he was your boyfriend, you’d still never been to byounggon’s apartment. you’d always pictured what it would look like. probably lots of clothes, lots of colour, maybe some abstract art on the wall. he was always eager for you to come over but you didn’t want to intrude or overstay your welcome. plus you hadn’t been dating for that long and it just didn’t feel right yet.

“i’m going into town to pick up some stuff for lunch” you replied to byounggon’s whiney message asking what you were doing today.

“can’t you come over instead? i miss you” he replied in an instant. he must be bored, you thought, wrapping your favourite scarf around your neck and heading out.

you were closer to the shops than to your house when you felt a few droplets of rain splash onto your head, followed by many more. “a bit of rain never hurt anyone” you thought, continuing to walk. some time passed, your walking pace had gotten slower, your nose has gotten redder, and byounggon had gotten more anxious thinking you could be out there, catching a cold. a single clash of thunder and you were straight on the phone to your boyfriend. “okay i’ll come over now” you blurted out, half joking half not. he asked many times again and again just to confirm that you were indeed, coming over and until every sense of a joke had disappeared.

you arrived at his apartment looking like a drowned rat.

“cute” he patted your dripping wet hair as you entered. “there’s some clothes on the sofa” he shouted to you while shutting the door “you can change in the bathroom if you like. there’s a towel on the radiator too.”

you cautiously picked up the clothes and walked gingerly to his bathroom. while in there, you realised you didn’t even take in your surroundings, did it look like you’d imagined? you’d never imagined the toilet before so you couldn’t really say at this point but-. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of speakers crackling.

you went to see what the awful noise was, luckily you’d gotten dressed by this point but that didn’t even cross your mind.

“even cuter” he said, turning from his “music corner” to face you looking all cozy and warm in his oversized hoodie and sweats. you walked closer to him to see what song he was playing, it sounded familiar and less crackly than before.as you got closer his arms stretched out. the sleeves of his black hoodie covered his hands, which he soon pulled out to rest on your waist.

“can i kiss you?” he asked politely in a soft voice. you shyly nodded at him in response.

you leaned in and your lips met. his lips were a little chapped and yours weren’t in the best state either because of the weather, but it was definitely something you never wanted to forget. he didn’t rush it, but it wasn’t too slow either, it was filled with love and care. usually you’d curse the rain for ruining your plans, but today was an exception.

💛seunghun:

you weren’t even dating yet, but jfc everyone knew you would be soon. somehow you’d become friends with the popular guy, the one who sat with the IT girls for lunch, the one who could always be seen at festivals and concerts at the weekend, the one who everyone wanted to be with. it all started when you exchanged disgusted looks across the classroom when some delinquent said they ate banana on pizza, and from then, many snaps were sent, many seating plans were changed because he was “getting distracted” and he’d even started sitting with you and your friends some days for lunch, which the popular clique weren’t too impressed about.

you’d never been to his house before but that was about to change. you arrived at his front door and were greeted by two rather large dogs barking and a panicked seunghun. he hurried you upstairs since he gathered they could be pretty scary when you meet them for the first time. you sat on the edge of his bed after being told to make yourself comfortable.

here” he handed you his gaming controller “pick something to watch” you were quite relieved that he wasn’t going to make you play some weird game that you knew you’d lose at. instead you put on white chicks, which you had both seen numerous times before.

it wasn’t long before you both had gotten bored of the film and your phone battery was just a tiny red slither. footsie had been played countless times but you were enjoying each other’s company so you didn’t wanna announce that you were bored. before you knew it, seunghun had snatched your phone from your hands “i’ll charge it for you” he said, plugging it in.

there was nothing left to do other than mess with your nails. seunghun rolled onto his side and looked at you for a second before asking you “have you kissed many guys?” it was abrupt and you probably thought his intentions weren’t in the right place, but he couldn’t help what just came out of his mouth.

“a few” you responded. you picked at your nailed some more, staring at them like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “have you kissed many people?” you retaliated.

“some” he responded, rolling back onto his back. “do you maybe-“ this time he stopped to think before continuing “want one? from me i mean.”

you smiled to yourself before turning to face him. “sure”.

it didn’t last very long, his right hand was on your cheek while your left hand naturally found its way to the back of his neck. your cheeks were definitely bright red, but his temperature indicated that he was probably the same.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that for” he smiled, pulling away. “so is this our first date?” he asked outright

“do you want it to be?” you avoided the question, making him answer it. you definitely wanted it to be, but whatever you said you knew he’d tease you.

“no i thought i’d just kiss you as a friend” he rolled his eyes, going in for another.

🤍yonghee:

three dates in and you were pretty sure that you liked him, and that he liked you back. he’d taken you to his favourite cafe without even realising it was your favourite too, he’d taken you to a art gallery which was a pretty big deal, you thought, and you’d just finished your date at the park. you packed away all the empty boxes into your picnic basket to throw away when you got home and he helped, brushing hands occasionally which made your heart go crazy every time.

“this was really nice, i’m glad the weather didn’t change” he chucked, bringing his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. he looked at you for a reaction but you just smiled, not even looking in his direction. “you do feel the same way, right?” he asked, bewildered by your silence.

you finally glanced up at him “yes i do” it was quite formal looking back but at least you told him.

“then why the shyness?” he asked, almost saddened by your sudden change in character.

“because i didn’t wanna come off as too… much” you said. “i didn’t want you to see me go beetroot red either like now but here we are” you laughed, getting back to your normal self to get rid of the awkwardness.

“you’re so cute” he cooed whilechuckling, moving his arms to balance himself while he leaned over to give you a gentle kiss.

you didn’t fight it. it’s what you wanted since day one. but you were nervous and it was unexpected, you didn’t want him to think you weren’t enjoying it but you barely moved.

“was that too much?” he pulled back slowly, slightly embarrassed.

“no” you replied softly with an unmovable smile on your face. you looked back over to him, he had one eye shut and the other was squinting. you moved your head to block the sun and smiled widely at him. “can we do that again?” you asked innocently.

“please” he laughed a little, leaning in once again. this time you lead the kiss, proving to him that you felt the same way as him. his hand slowly made its way to your waist. you jumped slightly which made him smile into the kiss. your stomach flipped every time you realised what was going on and you were getting more flustered by the second, but of course yonghee found it adorable and it made him smile even more.

🖤jinyoung:

it was very rare that you and jinyoung got free time together, alone. you’re not even sure if you’d had any since getting together. you always had work to do or exams to prepare for or family matters to deal with. he was always dancing or studying or with his family too. you made do with the little time you had together but it always left you both wanting to share more intimate moments. you could only do so much on facetime.

“why aren’t you at school?” he asked in response to you showing up on screen in your bed. “are you sick? do you want me to come over? oh god are you skipping school?! i mean that’s cool but we all know… you lack… ya know… brain cells. you need to be there babe,” he joked while waiting for an answer.

“first of all, my lack of brain cells has nothing on my lack of taste when it comes to men. second of all, my school is closed because the heating is broken and it’s like -200°C. do you want us all to freeze to death?” you retaliated sarcastically.

“ideally” he replied, setting his phone down on the desk while he put a hoodie over his tshirt.

“well i was going to say you could come over since i’m home alone all day but i don’t think I want you to anymore” you fake sulked even though he couldn’t see you.

“no i’m getting ready now you don’t have a choice” he announced, picking his phone back up and heading outside of his shared accommodation.

he arrived at your door in no time.

“did you run?” you asked, watching him stagger his way up your driveway panting like a dog.

“no” he obviously lied. “well yes” he confessed “but only so i could do this”. he put his ice cold hands on your cheeks and started to lean in.

“the neighbours” you pushed him away slightly, pointing to all the houses on your street.

“fuck your neighbours, have they had to wait 600 years to kiss their girl/boyfriend?” with that, your lips finally collided. you soon forgot about the idea that people were watching and became fully immersed in the kiss. you’d wanted to make the move for so long, if you knew he was okay with an audience you would have done it in front of your friends.

it was the longest kiss either of you had ever had, undeniably the best too. it was innocent, yet hungry. passionate and sincere but hasty. everything you expected it to be and more.

💜hyunsuk:

not a single day passed where you didn’t think about kissing hyunsuk, but every time you tried, you always chickened out. it was the same whenever he tried to either. the mood was never right, you wanted to remember the kiss yet he’d always spring it on you at the most random times, that’s why you always pulled back or pushed him away.

today you were cleaning out some of your old make up, most of it had passed its use by date, some just wasn’t your style anymore and the rest you were gonna keep. hyunsuk being hyunsuk just wanted to be around you, so he came over and watched while messing in every little item on your desk.

“what about this?” you asked, holding up a sealed lip tint, knowing he wasn’t really paying attention to you.

“yeah that’s nice” he replied dismissively. you shook your head and threw the lip tint into the space you’d made on the floor for stuff to give to your friends.

“hey, why throw it there? i said it was nice,” he questioned. you were a little taken back, was he actually listening?

“when have you ever seen me wear that shade?” you retorted. you stared at his face intently before coming up with a fun plan. “i think it will look nice on you though, actually, can i put some on for you?” by this point, you’d embodied the pleading face emoji, he wasn’t gonna say no to that.

“only if i can put some on you after” you nodded, he’d forget about that anyway, you thought. he picked up the lip tint and passed it to you. you stood in front of him and puckered to show him what to do. he followed and you applied it gently. you hated to admit it but it did look really good on him, even though you’d only said it as a mindless joke.

“all done” you said, turning him on your chair to face the mirror.

“hmm pretty!” he spun back around to face you who was still crouched at his height so you could admire it even more. to your surprise, he grabbed your face and pulled it towards his. he planted one sticky peck on your lips before looking to see the mess he’d created. “not enough” he whispered to himself before returning his lips back to yours for longer this time. it was more intense. he seemed to throw himself into this one a bit more, and so did you. your lips moved together instinctively and your hands found their way over his shoulders while his steadied you are your hips.

“that was our first kiss, you know?” you asked once he’d pulled away and giggled a bit.

“wait really?” his eyes went wide and his hands were quickly removed from your sides. “i’m sorry, i got caught up in the moment, i hope it was okay” he rambled.

“it was perfect” you smiled “now here” you handed him a make up wipe “we can do it again after you’ve got that sticky mess from around your lips, okay?”

#cix #cix reactions #cix imagines #bx #byounggon #seunghun #yonghee #jinyoung #bae jinyoung #hyunsuk #yoon hyunsuk

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willow-salix · 3 years

Text

It’s here, Virgil’s FabFiveFeb

A nice little bit of Virg fluff for @gumnut-logic

"I think he'd like someone that has an interest in creative pursuits," Gordon mused, poking one of the boxes to tick it.

"And someone that likes to go for walks, you know what he's like for wanting to wander and take in the scenery, maybe even snap some pictures to paint later," Scott added, touching another box to tick it.

"More of a home body than an adventurer, he gets enough of that with work," Gordon added it to the list. "And they definitely have to believe that family is important, he can't have someone that won't understand his commitments."

"OK, next, all about him," Scott scrolled down to the next section. "His interests…"

"Classical music, obviously."

"Enjoys visiting art galleries and concerts."

"And eating out."

"Don't we all?"

Gordon nodded at that, there was nothing they liked more than picking up some tasty food.

"Ideal date? What's that movie he likes? The one with the lake house?"

"Oh, I know the one you mean, with the…the…" Scott's brain failed to make the connection, romantic comedies were not his thing, that was what Virgil watched with Selene, not him.

"Doesn't matter," Gordon assured him, brushing it aside. "He liked the date so I'm putting it down. A relaxed stroll along a lake side at sunset," he murmured to himself as he quickly typed it out.

"That's the one," Scott nodded. "He-"

"Allie! Have you seen Scott?" The sound of Virgil's voice floating up from the kitchen made them both jump guilty.

"I think he's in the lounge," Alan shouted back.

"Shit!"

"He's coming!"

"Quick, submit it, submit it!" Gordon smacked at the submit button, growling in frustration when a flashing red 'incomplete field' warning mocked them.

The sound of steel capped boots thumping up stairs spurred them on.

"Just tick anything!" Scott yelped, fingers flying as he randomly poked boxes in between Gordon whacking the submit button like it had personally offended him.

"Yes!" Gordon sighed as the 'congratulations' sign appeared in green. "Done!"

Scott just had time to hit the x and pull up a report before Virgil strolled his way in.

"What are you two doing?" he asked suspiciously, stopping dead in the doorway when he was greeted by the sight of the two brothers least likely to be discussing a report seeming to be doing just that.

"Nothing!" Gordon yelped just as Scott yelled "Reports" which was definitely upping the suspicion levels. He didn't believe them.

"I don't believe you," Virgil told them firmly, attempting to give them the kind of 'don't lie to me' eyebrow raise that Selene or John managed to pull off but knew he had failed. Damn the fact that he was the nice one and they both knew that any and all threats he might issue would go unfulfilled.

"You doubt me?" Scott gasped in mock outrage. "Me? Your big brother? The one that always has your back?"

"And me, your wingman? The one that always fixes your hairdryer fuse?"

"One time Gordon! That was one time! And it wasn't my hairdryer!"

"I don't know, you bought it, you keep it in your bathroom and you warned us all that we couldn't borrow it on pain of death, so that evidence all points to it being your hairdryer…"

"I won't stay here to be insulted," Virgil sniffed indignantly, "I'm gonna go find Kayo and see if she'll help me with the inlet manifold, at least she can take instructions and won't lie to me."

They watched him stomp away in a huff, breathing a sigh of relief when the sound of his boots faded into nothing.

"Damn, that was close," Scott gulped, clicking back onto the dating website to check it had worked. His eyes widened when he looked at the screen.

"What? What's wrong?"

"He's got three inboxes already."

"Seriously? Already, it's been what, five minutes?"

"Yep."

"We’re gonna be spoilt for choice."

"I guess that just means we have more chance of picking him a good one, he needs to get out more."

"He'll thank us for it in the end."

***

"I don't understand, why do I have to dress up?" Virgil groaned. "I'm tired, I've had a long day, why do we need to go to the mainland just to pick up pizza?"

Gordon glanced at Scott for help. None was forthcoming. He nudged him for emphasis.

"Fine," Scott sighed, admitting defeat. Honesty was always the best policy anyway. "We arranged a blind date for you."

"You did what?" Virgil exploded. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"We thought you needed to get out more," Gordon shrugged. "We were trying to help."

"I don't need your help, I didn't ask for it."

"Not like you were going to meet anyone on your own, was it?" Gordon continued to needle.

"John did! So did Scott. I am perfectly capable of getting my own dates."

"John is an enigma that none of us understand and Cat's my ex, I was recycling, that doesn't count."

"Do not let her hear you say that," Gordon laughed.

"My point still stands," Scott insisted waving away the worry about his girlfriend, "we don't have a normal job or the chance to socialise much, and unless fate decides to be nice and throw someone at you like it did for John or you have an ex hidden away somewhere, you can't use us as an example."

"You don't want to let her down, do you?" Gordon tossed in, knowing that his softie brother would feel guilty as hell if he upset anyone. "How would you feel if you got dumped before you'd even met the person?"

Virgil wanted to argue the point some more, but honesty and his vow never to lie to himself stopped him. They did have a point, a small one, but still pointy and therefore he was unable to ignore their logic. He decided to give in, although he refused to do so gracefully or with any forgiveness of their plotting. Plus, they were right, he wouldn't want to be responsible for anyone feeling like they weren't good enough in any way, shape or form.

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice…" he started only to be interrupted by the victorious cheers of his brothers. "Do you have a picture of her?"

"Nope," Scott grinned. "We signed you up with that new site where pictures aren't allowed, you pick based on shared interests and compatibility, not looks."

"That's…actually a nice idea," Virgil acknowledged reluctantly. He wasn't one to judge people on looks, he cared more about personality and morals.

"See, we knew you'd approve," Gordon grinned, slapping him on the back.

"I didn't say I approved of this-"

"Come on, hurry up, you don't want to be late for your date!"

***

Virgil waited nervously on the picnic bench, clutching the single sunflower Scott had thrust at him like it was a weapon, ready to fend off anything if his blind date turned out to be some kind of psycho.

They couldn't be too careful, they were far too used to people trying to find out details about them or to trick them in some way. No one was ever as they seemed.

Scott had assured him that they hadn't used his real name and that no one would associate it with him but he couldn't help the little nagging doubts that gnawed away at the back of his mind.

Plus he still hadn't forgiven them for pulling this stunt on him. Did they really think he was that bad at dating that he needed such help? He wasn't bad at dating, he got plenty of offers for a hook up, they all did. Well, not John but he was hardly ever out on rescues and Selene was common knowledge now but, to the rest of the world, him and his "single" brothers were all fair game.

Butt gropes and comments about their hard muscles were a common occurrence, so much so that he often felt like a piece of meat being squished and tested before purchase. Another reason why he rarely managed to meet anyone that he could actually see himself wanting to date.

Maybe their idea, while badly executed and heavy in trickery and taken liberties, hadn't come from a bad place. He'd worried the whole way to the meeting spot that they might have picked the worst candidate they could, but he firmly forced the thought out of his head. His brothers might like to indulge in mutual pranking and to push the limits sometimes but they would never do anything to hurt or embarrass someone, especially not a stranger. The thought had calmed him down enough that he hadn't had to make use of Two's on board bathroom facilities for an emergency freshen up because he'd stress sweated through the nice shirt and jacket they had forced him into.

He'd managed to relax a little but, now that he was sitting here alone, waiting and looking out for someone he had no clue about, he was starting to worry again.

Seeing an abandoned pen on the picnic table he snatched a few napkins from the dispenser and let his eyes roam the scenery.

It really was a gorgeous place, something often referred to as a little slice of heaven in the city. The urban park, man made in the center of the mass of concrete and steel, sported a carefully constructed lake that was home to a teeming ecosystem of endangered species that exhaustive conservation efforts had made possible.

The sun was just beginning to lower towards the horizon, painting the sky and the surface of the lake with the most beautiful colours. Virgil's fingers itched to paint them but he settled for snapping a couple of pictures on his phone.

Trees of all types surrounded the lake, creating an attractive backdrop to the whole scene and before he even realised he was doing it he was deep in concentration as he sketched the lake area on the napkin.

The process was calming, helping to soothe his nerves and slow his thumping heart, allowing him to stop and breathe for a second, helping him to resist the urge to cut and run.

"Are you Virgil Grant? You have a sunflower."

The voice behind him made him jump and drop his pen.

"Yes, yes I am," he admitted as he turned around to face his date.

***

"So, how did it go?" Scott asked when they arrived to pick Virgil up, less than half an hour after he'd text for a ride. "Did you have a good time?"

"I had a great time," Virgil smiled.

"You were gone a long time," Gordon grinned, nudging his older brother playfully with his elbow. "Did you go back to her place or something?"

"Yeah, we did."

"You did? You dog you!" Gordon leered with an exaggerated wink. Virgil just smiled, taking the teasing with his usual good grace.

"You gonna see her again?" Scott asked, pleased that their plan seemed to have gone so well.

Virgil nodded. "I told her I'd drop in as soon as I'm free."

"Come on, give us all the juicy details, tell us all about, Emma, wasn't it?" Gordon pushed, desperate for gossip.

"Nothing much to tell," Virgil shrugged. "She's sweet, we had a nice time hanging out, she gave me her number."

"That's it? That's all you can tell us?" Gordon groaned, disappointment evident in his voice.

"No, that's all I'm going to tell you," Virgil corrected. "You've interfered in my private life enough already, thank you."

"Oh, come on, Virg," Scott pleaded. But the big guy wouldn't budge, staying smugly silent the entire journey home.

Gordon and Scott had given up by the time they eased the little jet back into the hangar, going off to do their own thing, hopefully to remove his dating profile, leaving Virgil alone.

Selene and John were cuddled up together on one of the couches, watching something on the holoscreen when he made his way into the lounge.

He hadn't meant to disturb them, especially when they were actually getting some time alone for once, and was about to make his excuses but Selene had other ideas. She patted the couch beside her, shifting over to make room for him.

He accepted the offer, sitting down and getting comfortable. He didn't know what they were watching, possibly some kind of documentary.

"Cookie?" he offered, pulling a baggie of what looked to be pretty decent cookies out of his jacket pocket.

Selene glanced up from the screen, looking first at the bag of cookies and then at Virgil, her eyes widening in surprise.

"You're all dressed up."

This got John's attention as he reached for a cookie. "Have you been somewhere?"

Selene selected a cookie and took a big bite. "Oh, damn, these are so good, where did you get them?"

"My date made them for me," Virgil grinned, consuming almost half a cookie in one bite.

"Wait, wait, back up, date?" Selene actually paused the documentary, something about William Shakespeare by the looks of it.

"You had a date? That wasn't on the calendar?" John frowned. "Were they cleared by security?"

"The romance is strong in this family," Selene drawled, rolling her eyes.

"Scott and Gordon decided that signing me up to dating sites is their new hobby," Virgil sighed.

"They arrange the date? What were they like? Did you have a good time? Witchy needs details," Selene gently shoved John's face away from her as he chewed loudly in her ear and leant closer to Virgil.

"We actually had a nice time. Emma, my date, is a local, lived there all her life. She's been a bit lonely so her friend set her up on the site. We wandered around a lake for a bit and then we went back to her place."

"Awww, so romantic," Selene sighed dreamily before mock glaring at her husband. "Why don't you take me on dates any more?"

"Because we only got back off our honeymoon a few weeks ago and we live on an island?"

"No excuse."

"Dinner on the mainland next week?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she stole a quick kiss as he rolled his eyes in defeat. "Got any pictures?"

"Of the restaurant? Are you needing to inspect my reservation making skills now?"

"I was talking to Virgil."

"Oh, then carry on."

"Virg, pictures?"

"I did take one, yes," he pulled out his phone, scrolled through for a couple of seconds then turned the phone to show them the screen. "I took a selfie of us at the lake."

Selene and John blinked, unsure if they were seeing the right picture.

"Erm… not to be a judgey judgerson or anything but…" Selene trailed off.

"But she has to be older than Grandma," John finished for her, blunt and to the point as always.

They both looked at the picture again, showing a goofily grinning Virgil next to a sweet older lady, her blue rinsed hair set in a helmet of curls, her half moon glasses perched on her nose.

"Again, not with the judging, you do you, but does she have to watch her heart? She needs to be careful if she's going out picking up handsome young men."

"Stop, please stop," Virgil groaned. "She didn't know how old I was. Gordon and Scott set it up and apparently they somehow, and I choose to believe it was unintentional, managed to upload my profile to the over 60s side."

"And you didn't correct her?" John had to ask. He knew his brother was the nice one of the family but that was a little ridiculous.

"Of course I did, but we were there and she hadn't been out in a few weeks. Her grandson moved away for work and her husband died a few years ago so I bought her dinner and we had a nice walk around the park. She wasn't actually looking for a romantic date, she just wanted a companion, someone to chat to, go for a walk with and maybe see an exhibition or two. Her friend at the widows club set it up for her."

"So you were both set up by others?"

"Yep. She's a really nice lady."

"And that walk around the park turned into cookies at her place?" John's fingers snuck into the bag again to take another.

"And banana bread. She mentioned that she was going to hire a handyman to fix her sink because her daughter was too busy and she didn't have any help now."

"Ahhh," Selene could see exactly where this was going.

"And so I offered to unblock her sink for her."

"Of course you did," John sighed, hiding his smile against Selene's shoulder.

"And while I was there I put up some new shelves for her and took her trash cans out to the kerb and retuned her TV. She made me cookies to say thank you."

"She sounds lovely," Selene cooed, already in love with the thought of her. She could take or leave it when it came to little kids, usually leave if she was being honest, but she was a complete suckee when it came to the elderly.

"She is, smart too. I complimented some of the paintings she had on her walls and she told me she'd painted them, her and her husband met at art school and used to go on vacation to different countries to visit galleries and take classes. I showed her a few pictures of some of my pieces and it turned out she'd seen one of mine in a gallery in New York, you know that one of the Sphinx I did from that picture I took after that rescue?"

"Do I take it that our darling brothers don't know any of this?"

"Nope," Virgil grinned. "I'm letting them stay curious, they asked me all sorts of questions on the way back but I stayed quiet. I'll tell them eventually, once all the cookies are gone." He picked another out of the rapidly depleting stash.

"I have never heard a more Virgil story in my entire life," Selene laughed, shaking her head. "So when are you seeing her again?"

"Gonna try and visit next week to mow her lawn," Virgil admitted, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Hey, no," Selene grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "No looking embarrassed. You're amazing, it's a totally you thing to go on a date, not get what you were expecting and still come away with an old lady best friend and having had a great time. That's one of the many reasons I love you, because you're just so you."

"She's right," John added, patting his brother's shoulder. "One thing I've learnt the last few years is that you shouldn't make excuses for who you are or try to change. Don't belittle the fact that you have probably made her happier than she has been in months just by giving her some time and treating her with respect. Don't undervalue that."

"Yeah," Virgil acknowledged. "I know I did the right thing, it doesn't hurt to help someone and I had fun too."

"And that's all that matters," Selene said, patting his hand one last time before she let it go.

"Yep," he smiled, settling back against the cushions, munching on his cookie, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's, muffling his words. "That and the fact that her granddaughter is a nurse and she's going to introduce us next month."

#Virgil Tracy #fabfivefeb #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction

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ssa-dg · 3 years

Text

Undercover Part 1

part 1, part 2

Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.

TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader

word count: 3,384

Author’s note: so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me

You would do anything to save the world. Maybe it was a hero complex, maybe it was some form of glory seeking, or maybe it was the only way you knew how to fill the dark abyss you felt when you did nothing of importance. Being a part of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, helped with that. Being on the team gave you everything you needed, a family and a way to save others. Maybe saying you love your job isn’t the correct way to explain your emotions but you knew no better way. Although you wish a job like this wasn’t necessary and didn’t even exist, it did.

Your team meant the world to you and you would contribute almost in any way to help find an unknown subject. So when Penelope Garcia was able to connect the killings in New York City to some private “rich people” clubs, her and the team created a plan to infiltrate.

The victimology was specific. It was all rich young women ranging from the ages 19-30 who just moved into the city to find themselves.

The profile was an easy one to figure out. He was obviously a troubled young white male who was probably an heir of some sort. He was richer than what most people think is rich. He usually meets the victim at a high society social event. Then he’d take them to a more exclusive social event. After that he would drug them with MDMA, rape and kill them.

It was hard for the BAU to get much out of the enclosed and tight group of New York’s most elite families. So going undercover at an event where the unsub could potentially hunt for prey was what made most sense. Your jobs was to observe the women and men there and try to see if any of you could fish out the unsub.

They had done it in the past but usually they did their best work by watching and observing. So here the team was, their second night in a row all dolled up in fancy cocktail dresses at some art gallery. Tara Lewis and Luke Alves stood around a table pretending to talk to each other as they observed potential victims. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Matt Simmons stood at another end of the room checking for the potential unsub, while your unit chief, Emily Prentiss, and you were pretending to be alone at the event eavesdropping on rich families. You listened to those around you while also scanning the room looking for potential young white men talking to lone young women. “Ten o’clock to the creepy face painting,” you heard Alvez say in your small earpiece. You calmly turned pretending to look at the other art pieces and saw a white male in his mid-thirties walking up to a female. He placed his hand on her low back as he leaned in to talk to her. Emily being the closest nearby out of you two, moved closer acting like she was going for some hors d’oeuvres. “That’s not him. He’s too drunk. I can smell all the alcohol he has consumed. He would need to be smoother than that,” Emily whispered as she took a sip of her glass. That’s how most of the night went. We followed and stared at people who might be the unsub and then filed them out. You felt yourself losing hope. You hated this part of the job. The one that made you feel like the profile was wrong and you all would have to start over, which there was never time to start over. Someone could die. That’s when you felt a hand touch the small of your back, your body tensed up immediately. “Relax,” he whispered in your ear. But you didn’t need to force it, because when you turned to look at the person who touched you, you were met with the face of beauty and your body instantly relaxed. You knew this was a dangerous reaction, as would probably many of Ted Bundy’s victims.

The man before you had slicked back short dark hair, bright blue eyes, strong symmetry in his facial features, and strong cheek and jaw bones. He smiled wickedly at you, causing you to intake a sharp breath. It was so sinister but also so beautiful. It wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, no that was reserved for your teammate, best friend, and love of your life (even if he didn’t know it) Spencer Reid. Now, Spencer’s smile was one you could get lost in. You refocused yourself to the beautiful man in front of you. “They say the artist intended for this particular piece to show trauma while he was drinking. His other pieces are other emotions on different drugs,” his deep voice rattled through your ears. You wanted to unwrap yourself from this man’s embrace. How dare he touch you like that without your permission. “Play along,” Luke spoke as he saw a scowl beginning to form on your lips, “he could be the unsub.” You smoothed the scowl into a smile. “It doesn’t look like it depicts trauma,” you responded dumbly. The man before you cocked his head to the side giving you a lopsided smile. “I guess it all depends on how someone experiences trauma,” the smile now wicked, and scarier. A shiver went up your spine. “Are you cold?” He asked, noticing it, while looking you up and down like he could devour you. “No,” your voice came out scratchy as your throat went dry. You cleared it politely. “Just thinking-” “About your own trauma?” He asked. You could hear the fake tone of concern. That snapped you out of your fear. The pictures of all the murdered women that brought the BAU to this case flashed before your eyes. “Maybe,” the smile you plastered on your face was a one you knew he wanted, a sad smile. You were going to play this role like it’s no one's business because you were here to catch a bad guy and if flirting with a creep got you there then so be it. He leaned in closer to your ear, “my name is Alistair Constantine,” you immediately recognized the name. It was on the list of potential unsubs for the profile. His family’s money was old, going back to the revolutionary war. The family seemed to always be updating with the times and never losing that money. You leaned into his other ear and introduced yourself.

Spencer’s hands were clutched at his side as he watched you interact with the Constantine boy. He felt in his gut at this moment, Alastair was the unsub. The way he was looking at you, it was like you were a quest to conquer. Spencer knew he couldn’t just come up, break you two apart and blow the whole investigation but boy did he want to.

Alastair paraded you around the room. Every now and then he would talk to fellow members of the society. It took everything in you to pretend that you didn’t want to beat his ass right then and there. You were always an imaginative kid growing up so you blocked out the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes and instead pretended this was your life a young New York woman getting special treatment from a handsome man. It was easier to fit the rom-com role then what was actually happening. Alistair stopped in front of a painting that was particularly psychedelic looking with bright pastel colors. “This is my favorite piece by the artist. This was when he was on Ecstasy. Look at the happiness and distorted-ness to the art. It’s amazing,” he gushed. It would have been odd that he picked this particular painting to attach too, but it was a strong tie to the method of his killings. “Humankind cannot bear very much of reality,” you spoke out, breaking Spencer from his thoughts about if they had enough information to convict Alistair for the murders. Alistair looked at you funny, not understanding why you would say that. “T. S. Eliot” you told Alistair while Spencer whispered it at the same time. a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when you heard Spencer’s voice. “It’s what I think of when I look at this art. T. S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets,” you blushed at your admission. It felt like for a second, with having just heard Spencer’s voice, that you were talking to him instead of Alistair. Spencer was now looking straight at you two. His eyes held bewilderment, he has known you for years and you never once mentioned this, and he knew you knew this was something he cared about.

“Indeed,” Alistair yawned.

The next 30 minutes was you telling him how you’d grown up in Boston, Massachusetts, that you had no close relatives anymore, and how when your parents died their life savings all went to you (all of it true), the lie came when it was to talk about why you moved to New York City, what you wanted to do with your life etc. And he ate it up every second. You played the roll of being the lonely damsel in a big city trying to find the answer to life. You were his ideal victim and you knew that he didn’t even question how perfect you were.

The night ended with an invite to the society’s ball tomorrow night, and Prentiss fed your ear a fake address for Alistair to send a car to tomorrow. You ordered an Uber to the address where Emily said they’ll pick you up to not seem suspicious in case Alistair sent someone to follow you. Once at the address the FBI’s SUV pulled up and you got in. It was Spencer who picked you up, which was unusual, as he never liked driving. You climbed onto the passenger seat and saw his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a profiler to know Spencer was mad. “Spencer, are you alright?” You approached with a soft whisper. There was a pause of silence, Spencer calculating if he should be honest. He eventually gave into the truth as he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. “No,” he growled, the anger in his voice causing you to jump in surprise. “No, I am not okay. That man is a murderer and he was holding you in his arm! You two were practically dancing around the room in there. We have put you in danger and now, now you are his next target, his next victim!” he hit the wheel in anger. You had never seen Spencer this angry before. Most times when Spencer got angry, he got smart and he used his logic to fight but now he sounded emotional. “Spencer,” you raised your voice, “I am not a victim, I’m an agent. I will do what it takes to protect others. Just like you.” In anger Spencer swerved the car to the side and put it in park. “Dammit, You don’t get it,” he yelled and turned towards you. “If he is our unsub, which we both know he is, I’ve run the calculations and the risk is too high for you,” his hands flying everywhere in gestures, “There are too many dependent variables. There isn’t enough for us to control. The probability of you getting hurt or,” he stopped to collect himself, and in a quieter voice said, “or worse, it’s too high. I’ve run the math.” Now that sounded more like the Spencer you knew. A soft smile crept onto your lips, then you quickly neutralized your face, in hopes he wouldn’t see the way his concern for you made you feel. And You couldn’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t let yourself feel happiness when Spencer showed you affection, because it eventually just leads to heart break. Subconsciously, you turned more towards him in your seat, “In your math is there probability that we get this guy and he never gets the opportunity to hurt another woman again?” You asked. Spencer gave you a pained look like he knew where you were going. You countered that look with one that told him to answer the question. He let out a heavy sigh, “yes. There is that possibility.” You smiled at him knowing you won the argument, “That settles it then.”

With everyone back in the small conference room at the police station, the conversation began about what to do tomorrow. No one was pleased that one of their own is now the target but there was truth that the situation was now more in the BAU’s control than before. Everyone also believed in you. They knew the risk and that scared them but also you are a Special Advisory Agent for a reason. Relief did not fill you but neither did dread, when you thought of the plan. You were doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if you were going to put yourself in danger.

Spencer kept pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Something that happened when he started to get headaches and you could guess this headache was caused by stress. As the rest of the team started packing up, you stared at your best friend hurting over the stress you were causing. You took a seat next to Spencer. He was still wearing his suit from the party. “We are going to be okay tomorrow,” you comforted him. He looked up at you, “I’m not worried about all of us, I’m worried about you,” he confessed. Once again, you knew these words shouldn’t have an effect on you like they did, but it did and this time there was something that felt hidden behind those words, something more. “I trust you not to let anything happen to me,” You countered and placed your hand on his forearm to comfort him. You looked in his eyes and tried to let him know that there is more than just trust there.

The day of the ball, you got ready in the police station bathroom. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined to be getting ready for your first ball in New York City. You’d rather be wearing this gown for other reasons than going undercover to catch a murderer rapist. The Givenchy dress Garcia picked out was gorgeous (as you instructed her to get a designer to fit in the crowd and you would float the bill). It was a long evening dress in blue and green with a gradient-effect. The top had long puffed sleeves, deep V-neckline, and waist accentuated with smooth lamé and long flared skirt. You put your hair up in a loose low bun. The makeup you did was a smooth eye with long flair eyeliner. You put a heavy amount of glow highlighter on your cheek bones and collar bones to accentuate the deep v cut the dress.

You felt ridiculous walking out of the bathroom into the police station wearing your dress. But the way Spencer looked at you was something powerful and intoxicating, making you forget your embarrassment. You strode up to him. A small smile played on your lips looking up at him. You saw him also smiling at you “You’re almost as tall as me,” he blurted out. You let out a small laugh, “‘I guess that’s what heels will do,” you smiled looking down at your feet. Spencer felt ridiculous that’s what he said. He should have told you how amazing you looked or how your beauty felt like the sun- always pulling him in and having his thoughts orbit around you. But he wasn’t good with voicing his feelings (especially in a room with his colleagues).

“We are going to have Officer Melinda Jackson drive you over to the apartment, And stake out the car. She’ll be on the radio the whole time till you are in range with us. We will be at the Capitale when you get there.” Emily disclosed as she strapped on a microphone and earpiece.

You stepped out of the car with your head held high even though your anxiety was on another level. “i’m here,” you whispered. “We are here too,” Tara responded. Everyone disclosed where each one was to you. The venue was massive and beautiful. The ceiling was tall with ornate decorations. The lighting was a bright orangish glow. As you examined the room, checking each point of your team, you also saw Alistair. He was at the bar with what looked like to be a group of his friends. Spencer not too far behind them. You walked towards Alistair but kept your eyes on Spencer. He took your breath away dressed in a tux and his hair slicked back like he used to when he was younger. It felt like your heart was lit on fire just by looking at him all dressed up. He was staring at you intensely. It wasn’t that the world stopped the moment your eyes met his, but it was more like everything else just didn’t matter. You knew you’d have to look away soon to not give away anything but you took him in for just one more second. “You look amazing,” you heard a voice next to you say. You turned to see the ever good looking Alistair. He wore a navy 3 piece suite with a large Gucci tag on the sleeve, and a large Gucci flower pinned on his chest. You gave him a soft smile and returned his compliment. “I want to introduce you to my family. Their approval means everything,” he offered you his arm. You took it tentatively, Spencer watched him lead you away, and he pondered on Alistair’s odd statement about family approval.

Alistair’s family was everything you’d expect. They were proper and pompous. However they liked you, a lot. You fell right into the role you had to play. You stood there laughing and engaged in the conversation with his mom and cousin.

“Shall we dance?” Alistair asked, giving you his hand, as your conversation with his sister came to an end. You nodded and let him take you to the dance floor.

He spun you out and brought you back in close to start the dancing. You gave him a bright smile at his eccentric action. You closed your eyes and let your mind pretend it was Spencer holding you. You followed his lead as he twirled you both around the dance floor. “Stop dancing, we can’t see you,” Spencer frantically said into your ear piece. You snapped your eyes open. Taking in that you were on a secluded corner of the dance floor by an exit door. “You are special. My family, They like you” Alistair said with a sense of manic to it. “you aren’t like the others,” he admitted. His voice sounded different. It was sinister with a tinge of adoration. He pulled you close, so close that his fingers dug into your hand and back. You felt like your brain was freezing up in fear. How many times had you been in fear inducing situations and why did your brain pick now to not work. “you’re hurting me,” you groaned trying to pull yourself away. “Where are you” JJ yelled but then you felt mist hit you, and your mind begin to make things fuzzy, “the left corner, the spray…in the flower,” you breathed out, hoping the team could hear you. You heard a rattle of commands to your co-workers from Emily. Then it went black.

Spencer rushed through the crowd to find you but by the time he got to the corner you told him you were at, you were gone. “She’s not here,” Spencer panicked into the ear piece. “I just saw a black Tesla leave, license plate delta, alpha, hotel nine, one, two ” Luke informed them. “Call and ask them to run it”, Rossi said urgently. “on it,” Luke replied. “JJ and Reid, go talk to the mom and sister, Tara and Matt split up and talk to his friends and the other family members. They have to know where they are,” Emily demanded

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #david rossi #matt simmons #Penelope Garcia #criminal minds fic #luke alvez #jennifer jareau #tara lewis #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa-dg #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine

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winterrose527 · 3 years

Note

have you done an Ella - museum curator, Robb - investor on a tour work??

Ummmm no I had not! And wow was this one cathartic to write. It came out way longer than expected because this is a subject near and dear to my heart...

Thank you for this prompt!!

***

She was so sick of this shit.

Over a year of it. Ever since the governor’s order in April 2020. Back then she’d almost believed it was just a blip, a couple of weeks. A vacation, almost.

But then the ban on gatherings. The shutdowns. Finally the masks.

Every museum in the country had shut its doors along with libraries, movie theaters, and every other place desperate parents could take their children on a rainy Saturday.

Theirs had been luckier than most. An endowment a few years prior, which had been earmarked but not mandated for an expansion had been used to keep the lights on and the staff fed - literally. Their programming had gone virtual and understandably attendance had dropped but not entirely – thanks to a few local artists that had generously donated their time for a last minute plug.

Ever since restrictions had lifted, the crowds had returned somewhat. A rainy spring and summer had helped, but they were nowhere near their ‘pre-pandemic’ levels (and with the Delta variant on the rise she wasn’t super comfortable with the term ‘post-pandemic’ to describe their current state of affairs).

She wouldn’t say that today though.

No, today everything would be rosy – not just the botanical gardens that abutted the museum and had been started in 1853 – no, 1854.

Not that she imagined the potential donor would be fact checking her but nevertheless there was no room for error. She needed to represent the museum well. Her colleagues were counting on her – not to mention the collection itself depended on her.

The board had decided at its most recent meeting if they didn’t get an influx of donations within this quarter they were going to sell off a few pieces from the collection.

There was nothing sadder to a museum than deaccessioning. The staff all loved and protected the collection, and they truly felt the impact they and it had on the community. Myrcella loved to walk through the galleries on Thursday afternoons to see the regulars who’d come to visit the paintings like old friends of theirs, stopping by to say hello to a Baroque oil here or an Impressionist watercolor there.

So if schmoozing yet another prospective donor was what it took to mean that Mr. Poole’s favorite still-life stayed put for his bi-weekly Wednesday morning visit, then she would schmooze. She would schmooze Sansa Stark like her life depended on it.

She knew Sansa Stark sort of. It was the sort of thing where pre-pandemic they had run into each other at half a dozen events every year and always had a lovely chat and discussed getting together and then never did. The North was a small world and they ran in similar circles. But they weren’t friends.

Still, she was her best bet. From the wealthiest and most philanthropic family in the North, of course she was.

And she had to deliver.

The board had all made it clear that they expected results, and it had been suggested that really Myrcella Baratheon shouldn’t have such a hard time finding donors. But all her usual suspects had come to her with their own sob stories full of please tell me you won’t shut your doors but without any promise of relief, and the people she knew down south – the sort that profited from the world being in such dire straits had no interest in a little regional museum. No matter how much she marketed it as a hidden jewel.

To them, there was little worth in a jewel hidden, and they had no interest in having their act of charity buried under the northern snows.

So Sansa Stark was it.

She smoothed her dress, chosen carefully for the occasion. Sansa was always impeccably dressed and favored ladylike, tailored dresses for daytime, just as Myrcella did. Today, which had turned out to be a gorgeous one, she’d chosen a pale blue scallop trim knit dress, her grandmother’s wristwatch her only accessory. Feminine but appropriate. More comfortable than the clingier dresses she only ever so occasionally wore when taking around a male potential benefactor.

“Good luck,” Gilly, their glum registrar said as she raised her wrist to her nose to make sure she could still smell the scented oil she’d spread there that morning.

“Thanks baby,” Myrcella sighed, “Lunch from that naughty salad place when I’m done? My treat?”

Gilly smiled at that, “My treat if you get her.”

“Oh, now the stakes are really high,” she teased and blew Gilly a kiss and walked through the halls.

She felt eyes on her as she went. It was a small, tight-knit team, and it made it all the harder every time she received a sheepish regret. If she couldn’t succeed, one of them might lose their job if the board couldn’t decide what to sell. Even if they could, depending on how long this lasted.

Game face, Baratheon.

She took a deep breath and then smiled for fifteen seconds. She let it drop, knowing that it would still be in her eyes when she walked outside and it felt a little more genuine when her heels clacked along the gorgeous marble floor.

Walking over to the security desk, the smile reappeared on her face.

“Morning Roddy,” she grinned.

“Good morning to you Miss Myrcella,” Rodrick greeted her, “You see the game last night?”

“You’ve known me for four years,” she noted, “When in all of that time have I ever seen the game?”

He chuckled, “There was that one time in 2018.”

“Oh no, I totally lied about that,” she assured him, shrugging, “I wanted you to think I was cool.” She then looked around the empty lobby, “No Miss Stark?”

He grimaced, “Not yet. Traffic is back though, folks still aren’t used to it.”

She nodded, picking at a non-existent thread on her dress and looked around. Her eyes narrowed in on something and she crossed the lobby and picked up a tiny scrap of paper, crumbling it in her hand and then walking back over and tossing it in the trash behind Roddy’s desk.

“I’ve been sitting here for two hours, didn’t see it,” he noted.

She smiled, “Well you’ve been doing less important things like making sure no one robs the place.”

He opened his mouth to say something to her but then his gaze was directed behind her, “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t open until 11 o’clock on Tuesdays.”

“I sort of have an appointment,” the man said.

She knew that voice. She’d heard it before. In a coat closet at Alys Karstark’s birthday party. At the next table over at a charity even in 2019. Deep, stubbornly Northern, as unyielding as Valyrian steel.

She felt her palms sweat and forced herself not to rub them on her dress, rubbing them together instead and then turning around with a bright smile.

“You’re not Sansa Stark,” she greeted him.

He grinned sheepishly, though she wasn’t sure this man had ever had occasion to be sheepish in his entire life, “Afraid not. Myrcella, right? We met at that thing – that um… save the…whatsits.”

She giggled, and she heard the sound echoing garishly on the marble, “I believe that evening we were saving the seals. Or the… tulips, maybe.”

His smile spread slowly across his face, a dimple marking its end like an exclamation point, “Well we did our part even if we can’t remember what it was, I’m Robb Stark.”

She liked that he introduced himself. He’d done so every time they’d met, as though he in no way expected her to remember him. Sansa had done it the first five or so. Must have been how they were raised.

On the other hand, she’d been raised to act as though someone was foolish for not knowing who she was, introducing herself had been something she’d had to learn when she moved north, like parallel parking and salting her stoop.

Her hand extended and his met it, taking hers in his larger one and shaking it firmly as he looked her in the eyes briefly and then her lips slightly longer before purposefully going back to her eyes, “Myrcella Baratheon, and I remember you, Mr. Stark.”

“Well if that were true you’d remember I prefer Robb,” he noted, releasing her hand.

She shrugged, leaning forward conspiratorially, “Old habits. Can I get you something to drink before we begin our tour?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he shook his head.

She nodded, “Well it’s beautiful out now, why don’t we start in the botanical gardens. There’s been a bumper crop this year, we recently had the Cerwyn wedding here, did you attend?”

He fell into step next to her and said, “No, I didn’t. I was meant to but they reduced it to just family.”

She nodded, “Right, seems to be happening quite a bit. Will you do the same for your wedding?”

He stopped walking briefly and before she could stop too he had started again, “No… uh, rather than reduce the guest list we decided not to have it at all. We called the engagement off in January.”

“I’m so sorry!” she internally stabbed herself in the throat, “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, “The nice thing about there not being any events over the past year is that the press didn’t really get wind of it.” Then stopped abruptly, “Not that… it’s not like that makes up for the past year or anything.”

She laughed, “Don’t worry, I know what you meant. I am sorry though, about your engagement.”

“As am I,” he agreed, “But it’s for the best. We parted as friends. Had we gotten married, I’m not sure we could have done so, so I’m grateful for that, and for her.”

A gentleman.

So many men played the part. Opening doors, buying flowers. So few of them realized that manners mattered very little when they were offered without grace.

“That’s lovely,” she noted, pleased for once not to have to lie.

It was a gorgeous day, a perfect seventy-nine degrees and clear blue skies. As though they’d understood the importance of the occasion, the Phlox stood proudly in battle formation and the scent of honeysuckle surrounded them.

“Sansa wanted me to apologize for missing your meeting,” Robb noted.

“I hope nothing’s the matter?” she asked.

A grin overtook his face, “No nothing at all. She’s in labor.”

She smiled, grabbing his forearm briefly. They both looked down at her hand on it and she pulled it back as gingerly as she could.

“That’s wonderful,” she told him, “Her second, right?”

He nodded, “A girl. And I’ve convinced her out of the name Corona.”

She chuckled, “Oh come now, you could call her Corrie for short.”

“And her parents idiots for long,” he noted. Then told her, “They weren’t really going to call her Corona.”

She smiled, “And here I was about to tip off the press…”

He smirked, “Narrow miss, then.” He looked around, “So. Flowers.”

“Not just flowers,” she pointed out, “We have a community garden to the left and down that lane local beekeepers keep their hives.”

“My mistake,” he allowed with a close-lipped smile.

That smile annoyed her. It was the same one she’d heard in the voice of every southern donor she’d called when they’d offered her good luck with her little country museum.

It was the smile someone gave her when she’d already lost.

“Perhaps we should go inside,” she noted, “I can show you our contemporary wing which we’ve recently devoted to elevating female and underrepresented artists. Or perhaps that’s a bit too avant-garde for you. Would you like to see our hall of armor and weaponry? I believe we have a few pieces that your ancestors left on one battlefield or another.”

“I’m sorry,” he noted, rubbing his jaw, “I told Sansa we should just cancel this meeting but she insisted.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark –“

“Robb,” he corrected her.

“No, I’m addressing Mr. Stark right now,” she argued, all of the frustration and helplessness of the past few months bubbling up inside of her, “May I ask what exactly it is about this that you find amusing? Is it the painting that we’re going to have to sell so that it can end up in someone’s climate controlled storage unit and never looked at again? Or is it the leaky roof? Perhaps the pay cut we asked all senior employees to take? Or how about the summer interns who had gone through a rigorous hiring process only to be told we couldn’t take them on at all? I certainly hope it’s not the seniors who used to come here for their Saturday afternoon watercolor classes which we had to cancel because we didn’t have anything to pay the instructor even though it would have been the perfect activity for them because it is outdoors and safe. Or maybe it’s the after-school programs you find so laughable…”

“I’m not laughing,” he pointed out. “But you’ll forgive me if I take your righteousness with a grain of salt.”

“I’m not sure that I will, actually,” she argued.

“No?” he asked, “Well let’s talk about those seniors? Don’t you think that funding is better spent ensuring they have free and safe access to the vaccination that can actually save their lives? Or what about those kids? Sure, the after-school program is great, but how about providing computers to allow them to do remote learning? Now I’m sorry if you have to lose one of a thousand paintings in this place, but if money can be better spent giving people what they really need then I’m sorry – sell the damn thing.”

That was hard to argue with.

But not impossible.

“So you’ve drained your coffers?” she asked.

There was only room for one of them on the moral high ground and she’d always enjoyed the view.

His cheeks had turned blotchy in anger but they paled now, “Excuse me?”

“Are you in the red?” she asked, “Declaring bankruptcy? Let’s not go that far - Taking out loans? Leveraging assets?”

His jaw clenched, revealing a muscle in his left cheek that might have been attractive if she wasn’t about to rip his head off.

“No,” he noted, “But my family’s company and my family have given an exceptional amount this year already.”

“Well,” she pointed out, “It has been an exceptional year already.”

“Are you always this haughty with potential donors?” he asked, stepping ever so slightly closer to her.

A flash in her mind of his hand ghosting across the back of her neck as he secured her coat over her shoulders. That smell.

“Never,” she admitted, stepping ever so slightly towards him, “But you’re not a potential donor, are you? And tell me, is it really because you don’t think it’s worthwhile or because it doesn’t sound worthwhile?”

His face contorted in anger, “You think we’re giving so that people will write songs about us? We want this country back on its feet. We want to return to normal and if we can’t do that, we want to make sure to give people as comfortable an existence until it reverts on its own. Tell me, Miss Baratheon, can you actually find fault in that?”

She shook her head, “No, I can’t.” He looked surprised and she shrugged, “It’s a flawless argument. Just an incomplete one. Giving an exceptional amount right now isn’t enough. You have to give until it hurts, because you can. It is wonderful, exceptional, heroic, to be doing all that you have done so far. But what comes next? What comes after? What happens when the dust settles? When things open? When we get things under control? What happens when people are ready to return to what was before and none of it is left because it wasn’t deemed essential. Because it’s just flowers and amateur beekeepers and pretty watercolors? I understand that we are not on the top of the list and we shouldn’t be. But we should be on the list. We need to do more than survive, Robb. There are things apart from us that we need to endure. Things we need to protect.”

His mouth twitched at that.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t have time to see the armor,” he told her.

She felt the defeat trickle through her veins slowly.

She held out her hand, “Thank you for letting me rant at you.”

He shook it once again, narrowing his eyes at her, “Something tells me you’ve still got some left in the tank. I’d quite like to hear it. Have dinner with me tonight and convince me.”

It was happening to all of her girlfriends. After a year in isolation, their ability to detect a creep from a mile away had withered. She hadn’t thought that hers had too. He’d seemed like one of the good ones.

She pulled her hand away, “That’s not the way I do business, Mr. Stark.”

His eyes widened in horror, “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t get to make these decisions.”

“You’re the CEO,” she pointed out.

“Yes I am but Sansa insisted on inserting a clause into her contract that she gets final say over any philanthropic decisions,” he sighed, “I literally am not even allowed to choose the location of a book drive.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, a tiny bit of hope bubbling inside of her, “So when you said you should have cancelled the meeting…”

“It’s because Sansa’s already decided that we will be giving a donation, she wanted to discuss the structure of it with you – you know whether you’d prefer a lump sum, or whether you want it in increments, if you wanted it to be public to inspire other donors or whether you wanted it to be private so that they couldn’t use it as an excuse not to give…” he waved his hand, “She’s better at the specifics and I’m sure she’ll be calling you in between contractions to fine tune them.”

She laughed, “Please tell her not to. A pledge is more than enough to take to my board, we can map out the nitty gritty whenever she or whomever will be replacing her in the interim has time.”

He nodded, “You’ll have them within the week.”

She was about to thank him but the words caught in her mouth, “So wait a second… did you just wind me up for the sake of it?”

He grinned, a chuckle present in his voice though it hadn’t yet broken, “I’d like to point out that it took very little to wind you up.”

She laughed, because he was right and admitted, “It’s been a tough year.”

He nodded, “For everyone. So, now that you know I have absolutely no control and can hold absolutely nothing over you… have dinner with me.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I enjoy arguing with you,” he told her, then grinned sheepishly, “And because I lied. Sansa told me that I could cancel the meeting and I insisted on coming because I wanted to see you. The bad thing about this year is that there were no events where I could have a chance of bumping into you…”

“Oh that’s the bad thing about this year?” she asked.

“Well,” he grinned, then did a scarily good impression of her, “Maybe it shouldn’t be at the top of the list, but it should be on the list.”

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella #fluff #prompt

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