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ceyanabbiolo · 16 days ago

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CONTRACT //C.S [11]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

warnings: Argument, crying, angst.

wc: 6262

Chapter 11: I See Where We Stand Now

Thomas Devereaux stood in my office like he owned the place—perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, and a face that never cracked unless he needed something. I didn’t offer him a seat. He took one anyway.

He cut to the chase. He always did.

“I assume everything with Aurora is…manageable?”

I kept my eyes on the report in front of me a second longer before closing it. “She’s not a crisis, Thomas. You don’t have to check in like she’s a quarterly risk.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just making sure things stay on track. We can’t afford distractions.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just making sure everything stays on track. We can’t afford distractions.”

“Distractions,” I echoed, leaning back in my chair. “Right.”

Thomas glanced around my office like he had a stake in it. “I assume you're busy.”

I closed the file in front of me with a quiet snap. “Trying to figure out how my uncle’s still stealing from me.”

Thomas’s face stayed composed, but I caught it—just a flicker of something in his eyes. “So Michael’s still out there.”

“He is,” I said, watching him. “And when I find him, he’s done. I’ll make sure of it.”

Thomas tilted his head slightly, tone measured. “You think it’s that simple?”

“I think it’ll be over once I get my hands on him,” I said, sharper than I meant to. “Unless someone’s helping him, and I just haven’t found them yet.”

“Or he’s smarter than you give him credit for,” Thomas offered with that same unreadable smile.

“Michael?” I gave a humorless laugh. “The man’s a coward who couldn’t run a corner store without screwing it up. He’s not doing this alone.”

Thomas shifted, but he didn’t respond.

I leaned forward. “Unless you know something I don’t?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “Just speculating.”

Silence pressed in for a moment.

Then he asked, casually, “If you do find him, what happens to the engagement?”

I looked up. “What about it?”

“Are you planning to break it off?”

The question hung, a little too precise. My jaw tightened.

“I haven’t decided.”

Thomas nodded slowly, but his eyes were hard. “I’d think carefully before doing that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

He took a step toward the door, then paused, turned halfway back to me. His voice was cool, even, but final.

“Because not everything in this arrangement is about what you get out of it.”

I held his stare. That wasn’t a concern for Aurora—that was something else. Something colder. I didn’t respond.

He left without another word.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just suspicious—I was pissed.

I pushed back from my desk, jaw clenched, and made my way over to the lounge. The soft clink of glass was the only sound as I poured myself a cup of whiskey. I didn’t usually drink during the day, but something about Thomas always made my blood pressure spike.

He was getting under my skin—and not in the way a business partner should. Every conversation with him lately was the same. Always circling back to the engagement. Always pressing like I’d lose something by letting Aurora go.

But this entire thing? This marriage arrangement? That had been his idea.

I took a slow sip and stared out the window, watching the city blur beneath the clouds.

Aurora.

The name alone made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t fucking like. I tried to hate her when we first met. Wanted to. It would’ve made things easier if she were cold or calculating—like him. But she wasn’t. She was soft-spoken, stubborn when it mattered, and so goddamn kind it disarmed me.

I didn’t do relationships. That wasn’t new. I didn’t like handing over pieces of myself, didn’t trust what people did with them. I liked control, distance, and clarity. And feelings—real ones—they blurred the lines I worked too hard to keep clean.

I wasn’t supposed to care about her. She wasn’t supposed to be more than a name on a contract. But now, things were shifting. Slowly. Quietly. I could feel it, like a wire pulling tighter every time she looked at me, like she saw something good beneath the surface.

Aurora was supposed to be business—clean, contained, untouchable. I’d spent my entire life keeping business far away from anything personal. However, lately…When I saw her curled up on the couch with a book, moving around the kitchen like she belonged there, or simply existing quietly in the same room as me—something in me shifted. I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t shake the urge to be close to her. To touch her. Like being near her settled something I didn’t know was restless.

That wasn’t part of the deal. I didn’t sign up for wanting someone. Especially not her. Getting attached—catching feelings—that’s how people lose control, and I don’t lose control. I can’t lose control.

But no matter how many times I remind myself that this is temporary, that she’s Thomas’s daughter, that this arrangement is just leverage—I still find myself looking for her in the apartment. Still find myself remembering the way she occupies space. The smell of roses is everywhere.

That's where the problem lies. She's starting to matter. The second she starts to matter, she becomes a threat.

That didn’t seem to keep me away, though.

When I got home that evening, I found myself heading toward Aurora’s room. I paused just outside her door, hearing her voice through the crack—light, relaxed. She was on the phone with Jen, laughing about how Jen had no clue what to get her for Christmas.

Christmas.

The realization hit me then—it was next week. The year had blurred by so fast, tangled in meetings, contracts, and... her.

I left her to her conversation and headed to my room, peeling off the day with a long, hot shower. The steam did little to clear my head.

Later, I made my way down to the kitchen, where Ana had already set the table. She insisted I sit, even though I told her I could manage. She waved me off, muttering something about me needing to “eat properly for once.” I didn’t argue.

Not long after, Aurora walked in.

She was barefoot, wearing a soft beige sweater and flannel pants, her hair loosely tied back. She took the seat across from me, her gaze gentle but steady.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice still carrying the echo of laughter from her call.

“Hey,” I replied, nodding as I picked up my fork.

For a while, we ate in silence. Forks clinking. The kind of quiet that doesn’t demand to be filled—but you feel it pressing anyway.

Then she spoke. “So… Christmas is going to be at our house this year.”

I looked up slowly. “What?”

“Christmas Day,” she clarified. “Eve will be at my parents’. But the next day… here.”

I set my fork down, jaw tightening. “Since when?”

“I talked to my mom earlier—”

“You talked to your mom,” I interrupted, heat rising. “And decided that Christmas would be hosted here without even asking me?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she kept her voice even. “I didn’t decide anything, Chris. She suggested it, and I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how things work with them.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “You of all people should understand that.”

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “This is supposed to be a business arrangement, Aurora. Not some holiday Hallmark movie.”

She flinched at that, just barely. “I know.”

“Then don’t invite the entire goddamn world into our house like we’re playing house.”

“I didn’t invite the world,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t want to argue with my parents. I thought you’d prefer that.”

I stared at her across the table. She wasn’t backing down. There was a quiet strength in her tone that I hadn’t heard before.

“And I thought…” she added, voice softening, “I thought maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have your mom and brothers here, too."

I was getting angrier, and deep down, I knew my anger wasn't at this Christmas party or Aurora.

“I don’t like surprises,” I muttered finally, pushing my plate back. “Especially not ones that involve pretending like we’re something we’re not.”

Aurora seemed to have got taken about by that comment, “what do you mean?”

I looked up at her, jaw tight. “I’m talking about how we’re not actually together, but somehow I’m supposed to sit around the tree with your parents like I’m already their son-in-law.”

She sat back a little, her face falling. “They just wanted to include us—”

“No, they wanted the illusion,” I cut in. “And you gave it to them without asking me.”

Her voice was soft now. “I didn’t think you’d care this much…”

“Well, I do.” I raked a hand through my hair. “Because this—” I gestured between us, “—was never supposed to feel real. And now you’ve got your mom planning dinners and your dad checking in on our ‘progress’ like this isn’t just an arrangement.”

Aurora’s expression darkened, hurt flickering in her eyes. “You think I’m doing this on purpose? That I want to pretend like we’re something we’re not?”

She stared at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you didn’t stop me either.”

I don’t know what came over me in that moment—maybe it was the conversation with Thomas earlier, or the unsettling realization that I was getting too comfortable with the girl sitting across from me.

The silence in the dining room stretched on, thick and heavy. Aurora barely touched her food now, and I could see the way her appetite had vanished. I regretted ruining her dinner, but I couldn’t shake the defensive wall rising in me, the one that protected my heart from her, even though every part of me wanted to let it down.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke up. “Chris,” she started, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

I looked up at her, my eyes meeting hers.

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself before finally asking, “What are we?”

“Because we live in the same house,” she continued, voice softer now, cracking ever so slightly, “we sleep under the same roof, I see you every single day, and still, I don’t know what we are. Not business partners. Not friends. Not strangers. Not lovers.”

Her gaze dropped, like she couldn’t hold mine anymore.

“You sometimes hug me,” she said quietly. “Kiss me. Compliment me like I mean something to you…and then you pull away just as fast—like you have to remind me you don’t do relationships.”

Her voice broke a little on that last word, and I felt it—like something twisting in my chest.

I was realizing the impression I had made on her, I should have known that she was going to start feeling something.

“I don’t know how to feel around you anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s just part of the arrangement.”

Her face twisted into something between disappointment and disbelief. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Aurora,” I muttered, the coldness creeping back into my voice. “I never promised you anything.”

“You don’t have to promise me anything,” she said, voice small, broken. “But you can stop making me feel like I’m nothing more than a convenience to you.”

That hit harder than I expected, and my breath caught in my throat. Every word she said felt like a slap, each one more painful than the last. But I couldn't stop now. I had to finish what I started, even though the words were starting to choke me.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” I said, though it sounded like a lie, even to me. “But I can’t give you what you want. I can’t pretend like I feel things I don’t.”

My last words hit her like a blow, and I instantly regretted saying them. I wanted to take it all back, to tell her I didn’t mean it. The truth was, I was lying to myself, pretending like I wasn’t starting to care about her. Pretending like these words weren’t eating me alive from the inside out. Because they were.

Looking at her now, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt, made me feel like I was choking on every breath. I wanted to pull her into my arms and apologize—tell her everything was going to be okay—but I couldn't. I was trapped in my own mess of emotions, and I hated myself for it.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, and her voice was small, barely audible.

“I see where we stand now,” she said, her words soft but with an edge that made it clear she was trying to hold it together. “Sorry for thinking this arrangement was becoming something more.”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond right away. The words were already out, and now, it was too late. She continued without waiting for me to say anything.

“I guess I just wanted to believe it could be something else.” Aurora gave a bitter laugh, but it didn’t sound like amusement.

She took a long, shaky breath, her shoulders slumping as she turned away from me. “But it’s fine. You were right. We’ve got this arrangement, and that’s all it is. No need to make it more than that.”

“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t act like I’m some victim here. If you don’t feel anything for me, then let’s go back to how it was at the beginning. You stay in your room, I stay in mine, and we pretend like we don’t even know each other.” Her words came out in a rush, like a final declaration, before she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

The anger in her voice hit me like a punch, but I didn’t move, didn’t react.

Aurora wiped her face quickly, then turned to walk away, her steps heavy as she made her way to the door.

"Just leave me alone, Chris," she whispered, her back to me. "Please."

I wanted to say something, but the words were caught in my throat. Instead, I just sat there, the room feeling emptier than ever, as she disappeared down the hallway.

My stomach twisted with something unfamiliar—guilt, maybe. I hated the feeling.

It was starting to hit me that she might actually pull away for good—that I wouldn’t get to touch her, be near her, not like before.

The weight of what I’d done was finally settling in.

If keeping my distance was the plan all along, I never should’ve let it get this far.

AURORA

I didn’t sleep much that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. That look he gave me—blank, unreadable, like he hadn’t spent the last two weeks slowly weaving himself into the quiet corners of my life. Like I’d imagined all of it.

I stayed curled up on the floor longer than I cared to admit. At some point, I dragged myself into bed, but it didn’t help. The sheets smelled like him. A faint trace of his cologne still lingered from the time he sat at the edge of the mattress, asking me if I was sleeping okay. I’d wanted to believe he cared then.

Now I just felt naïve.

For two weeks, Chris had let his guard down, bit by bit. He brought me coffee when I worked late in my studio. Sat at the edge of the bed and asked about my sketches, even when he clearly didn’t care about fashion. He kissed my forehead once when I nearly fell asleep on the couch. And for a moment, I let myself believe he was trying.

I thought I was past the point of hoping for more. But his presence had started to grow on me—quietly, dangerously. I liked when he was around. I noticed when he wasn’t.

I hated that.

I hated that I was the one left feeling small and stupid, while he got to retreat behind that cold, unreadable exterior like none of it ever touched him. Like I was just imagining everything we’d built—no matter how small it was.

So when I heard Ana in the hallway, moving through the quiet house with her usual rhythm, I didn’t go out to greet her. I couldn’t. I didn’t want anyone to look at me and see the cracks.

Then came the soft knock on my door.

My chest tightened.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Go away, Chris.”

A pause. Then a gentle voice replied, “Miss Aurora, it’s just me. Ana.”

I blinked, my shoulders sagging. Of course it wasn’t him.

I stood slowly and opened the door. Ana stood there with that same quiet, maternal concern in her eyes. The kind you didn’t have to earn—it was just there.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked.

I nodded, even though the lump in my throat said otherwise. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Ana glanced over my shoulder at the mess of sketches and the barely touched cup of tea on the desk.

“Tired doesn’t look like that,” she said softly.

I stepped aside and let her in. The warmth of her presence made something in me ache.

She walked in, sat on the edge of my bed, and patted the spot beside her.

I sat.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I didn’t need to say it—and she didn’t need to ask. She always knew when something was off.

Ana didn’t rush me. She just sat there, holding my hand, thumb brushing against my knuckles like a silent reassurance. The air in the room was heavy, and I hated how small I felt in that moment—like everything I had been holding in for weeks was finally starting to slip out.

“It’s okay to cry, love,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”

That was all it took. My throat tightened, and I leaned forward, burying my face into her shoulder as the tears came—slow at first, then full, aching sobs that I couldn’t contain.

She rubbed my back gently, letting me cry, not saying anything until my breath slowed.

“I’ve known Chris nearly his whole life,” she murmured. “And he’s always been this way—guarded, distant. He’s been through things that taught him how to shut everyone out. It’s not you, Aurora.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?” I asked, voice breaking again. “Why does it feel like I made it all up in my head?”

“You didn’t,” she said gently. “I see the way he looks at you. He’s scared. That’s all. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

I shook my head and whispered, “I just wanted someone to choose me. Not because of who my father is or what this arrangement means. Just me.”

Ana’s eyes filled with sympathy. “You deserve that, and so much more. And I promise you, one day, someone will. Maybe even him… if he figures it out in time.”

My voice cracked again. “He kissed me like he wanted me. He stayed up talking to me at night. He made me laugh. I thought—I thought maybe I was more than just a fiancée in name.”

More tears streamed down my cheeks, and I leaned into her again. “And now I just feel so small. So invisible. Like I made it all up in my head.”

Ana rested her chin on top of my head. “He does care, even if he doesn’t know how to show it. I’ve seen it. But I know that doesn’t make it hurt less right now.”

I sniffled, gripping the fabric of her blouse. “I don’t think it’s just about him. I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t have control over anything. Not this house. Not my future. Not even who I’m supposed to love.”

Her hand stilled on my back, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes. “I know, sweetheart. Your life has never truly been yours, has it?”

I shook my head slowly. “It feels like everyone else is deciding who I’m supposed to be, what I want, and every time I try to push back, I feel guilty. I feel like I’m letting my family down.”

“You’re not,” she said firmly. “You are allowed to want something different. You are allowed to feel angry. And you are absolutely allowed to cry. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

“I just wanted one part of my life to feel like mine,” I whispered, voice breaking again. “And for a second, I thought maybe he could be that. Maybe we could be that.”

Ana’s arms came around me again, tighter this time. “Then he needs to figure it out, and if he doesn’t, that’s his failure, not yours.”

I closed my eyes and let myself cry again, quieter now, but still raw. There was something comforting about being held like this, by someone who didn’t expect anything from me. Who just let me be. Eventually, the tears slowed, and my head started to ache.

“I think I just need to lie down,” I murmured.

Ana nodded and helped me to my feet, brushing the hair out of my face. “I’ll leave a glass of water on the nightstand. You try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“Anytime, love.”

As she turned off the light and quietly left the room, I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling, the ache in my chest still heavy.

Christopher

When Aurora said she wanted things to go back to how they were before—like we’d never talked—she meant it. It’s been almost a week since the fight, and she hasn’t said a single word to me. Not even in passing.

She left for school early every morning without a sound. Came home, went straight to her room, or disappeared into the studio with the door locked. Meals were taken in silence, alone in her room. And if I ever passed her in the hallway, she wouldn’t even look at me.

It was starting to gnaw at me. There was a whole woman living under my roof, and I barely knew what she was doing, how she was feeling, if she was even okay.

And it shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.

I caught myself listening for the soft creak of the floorboards when she moved. I waited for the sound of her studio door closing, for the hum of her playlist through the walls.

It was pathetic—how much space she suddenly took up just by not being there.

She was gone without ever leaving and I couldn’t fucking stand it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to keep things simple. Distant. Professional, which was what we were technically doing right now. She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin.

I came out of my office, running a hand through my hair, the weight of my thoughts still pressing on me. I was still fuming about the tension between me and Aurora. The silence had been suffocating, and the house felt more like a prison than ever before.

I saw her. Aurora, stepping out of her studio, her focus fixed ahead, determined not to look at me. Her posture was stiff, as if she was preparing to glide by me like a ghost, pretending I wasn’t there.

I almost let her. Almost.

Something in me snapped though. Maybe it was the way she was avoiding me, or maybe it was the fact that I was sick of pretending like I wasn’t affected.

I moved before I could think, reaching out to grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

Her head snapped towards me, her eyes wide, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. The tension in the air was thick enough.

I held her wrist firmly but didn’t pull her toward me, just enough to stop her from walking away. “You think we can just keep doing this?” My voice was low, almost controlled, but underneath, there was something raw. Something that I wanted to break through. “Ignoring each other like we're strangers?”

She looked at me, her expression hard to read, her eyes not quite meeting mine but still holding my gaze. “Yes,” she said finally, her tone flat. “That was the plan.”

I studied her for a moment, taking in the way she was clearly holding herself back, as if trying to make herself as distant as possible. I couldn’t help but notice it—it was like she was trying to shut me out, to pretend I wasn’t there.

“What about tomorrow?” I asked, my mind still tangled in the mess of everything that had just happened.She furrowed her brows, looking slightly confused.

“What about tomorrow?” she asked confused.

"Are we still doing Christmas Eve at your parents’ house?” i asked still holding her wrist.

She sighed softly, as if she had expected this question. “Well, yeah," she replied, her voice clipped, almost mechanical.

I stepped a little closer to her, not letting the distance between us grow. “And what about before that?” I asked, my voice softening just enough for her to hear the quiet frustration in my tone. “Were you planning on talking to me before tomorrow night, or should I just assume we’re still not doing that?”

She met my eyes then, her chin tilting up in defiance. “You’re a grown man, Chris. I assumed you’d be ready by 7:30 without me having to tell you.”

I stared at her for a long moment, the sharpness of her words stinging more than they should’ve. There was an edge to her voice that I couldn’t ignore, and it made me feel more confused than I already was. Very different from when we first met.

Without another word, she yanked her wrist harshly from my grip and hurried toward her end of the house, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. I didn’t chase after her, but I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in my chest. I wanted to hold her, to tell her that I was sorry for everything. But I stayed rooted to the spot, frozen in the mess I had created.

I stared at the empty space where she had just been, my mind racing. Slowly, I came to the bitter realization: I was fond of her. I hated admitting it, especially to myself, but it was there, undeniable. Every time she was near, every time she spoke, I felt something shift inside me—a pull I couldn’t explain.

Even though the truth settled into me, I convinced myself that it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t love. No, I couldn’t love her. I didn’t even know how to love anyone. My entire life had been about control, about keeping people at arm’s length so I wouldn’t have to feel the weight of something real. I didn’t want to open myself up to that kind of vulnerability, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be the kind of person who got attached.

So, I pushed the feelings down, buried them where they couldn’t get in the way of everything I had built for myself. It was easier that way. But the more I tried to bury it, the harder it became to ignore the way she affected me. The way her presence lingered, even when she wasn’t around.

I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

At exactly 7:30 PM, I stood by the car, leaning against the door, checking the time every few seconds.

At 7:41 PM, she finally appeared.

Her burgundy dress clung to her frame perfectly, elegant but simple. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement with each step. Her hair, usually up in a slick or messy bun, was down tonight, falling past her shoulders in soft waves. She didn’t glance at me. Didn’t say a word.

I opened the back door without saying anything, and she slid in like I wasn’t even there. Not a thank you. Not even a look. She could play cold all she wanted. I didn’t care. At least, that’s what I told myself.

The drive was quiet. Tense. I kept my eyes on the road, hands on the wheel, pretending I didn’t feel the weight of her silence pressing against me like a brick.

When we pulled up to her parents' estate, the place was already glowing—twinkling lights strung across the balconies, wreaths on the doors, and cars filling the driveway. Classic Devereaux perfection.

I stepped out and rounded the car without a word. She didn’t wait for me. By the time I opened her door, she was already reaching for the handle herself.

We walked toward the entrance in silence. From the outside, anyone watching would think we were the perfect couple.

As we stepped into the house, the warmth of the Devereaux estate immediately hit me—golden lights, the scent of cinnamon and something rich baking in the kitchen. A soft piano played somewhere in the background. Staff moved around quietly, guests already scattered through the foyer with champagne flutes in hand. The usual.

Thomas was the first to greet us. Of course.

“There you are,” he said with a wide smile, already walking toward us. “Fashionably late, as always, Aurora.”

Aurora gave him a quick hug, mumbling a polite, “Hi, Dad.”

When he smiled and complimented his daughter, I could still see it—the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, the subtle hint of disapproval behind every word. It made my blood boil.

Then his eyes shifted to me. “Chris.”

I gave a nod. “Thomas.”

He clapped me on the shoulder like we were old friends. “Glad you made it. Come in, come in. Everyone’s dying to see the two of you together.”

Aurora didn’t flinch, but I caught the subtle way her shoulders tensed.

Her mother appeared next, air-kissing Aurora’s cheek before pulling her in for a longer embrace. “You look stunning, darling,” she beamed, before glancing at me. “Chris, welcome, sweetheart. Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Merry Christmas,” I returned stiffly.

We were ushered in, champagne glasses quickly placed in my hand. Aurora didn’t look at me. Not once. She stood by her mother, answering questions and smiling when necessary, but there was a wall up. A clean, cold barrier that even I couldn’t break.

The thing was, I had no one to blame for that but myself.

She wasn’t mine to be jealous over. But damn, seeing her smile politely at all these people, looking like she belonged everywhere but near me, made me hate how much I missed the version of her that used to quietly knock on my door just to say goodnight.

Aurora had been swept into a conversation with a group of girls I recognized from the engagement party—her cousins, I assumed. She offered them a smile, one of those carefully practiced ones she wore at events like this. The kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

My gaze lingered on her a little too long.

It was only broken when a few older men came up to me, launching into questions about business, investments, and what it was like to be a CEO in my twenties. I nodded along, gave the usual answers, but my mind wasn’t there. It kept drifting back to her.

We were in the living room now—the same one where I saw her for the second time. The day she came back from class, shocked to learn she’d be moving in with me. She hadn’t taken it well, and later that night, I found her crying in her room. I hadn’t meant to see her like that, but I never forgot the way she tried to hide her pain behind quietness.

Later, when we were all seated in the dining room, surrounded by silver cutlery and glistening wine glasses, I found myself distracted again.

She was sitting two seats down from her father, and in front of me.

The dining table and room were filled with every seat occupied today, unlike when it was just me, Aurora, and her parents.

I kept looking at her—at the way she politely smiled, the way she carried herself like she belonged here. But all I could think about was the first night I met her. The night she walked into that hotel lounge in a brown satin dress, quiet and composed, her eyes wide but unreadable.

The girl from that night... she hadn’t left my head since.

Now, she was sitting close enough to touch—but farther from me than ever.

Thomas handed me a glass of brandy as I sank into one of the leather armchairs beside him. The men around us chuckled about a joke I hadn’t caught, and the air smelled of expensive cigars and old money.

“So,” Thomas began, swirling the amber liquid in his glass without looking at me, “how’s everything holding up at the house?” His tone was casual, but I caught the edge beneath it. “Fine,” I said simply, keeping my voice even.

He finally looked over at me, the corner of his mouth tugging into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Aurora hasn’t caused you too much trouble, I hope?”

I clenched my jaw for half a second before answering. “No. She’s been fine.”

“But I’m glad it’s working out,” he continued, voice smooth, condescending in a practiced way. “I knew it was the right decision to put the two of you under one roof. Structure is good for her and for you, too, I think.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think I need structure?”

Thomas gave a short laugh, leaning back in his chair with that ever-knowing smirk. “We all do, Chris. Especially at your age. So much success, so young—it can be hard to stay grounded. I’ve seen men crumble under half the pressure you’re carrying.”

There it was again. The subtle reminder that no matter how much I built, how much I proved, he still saw me as a kid playing dress-up in a grown man’s world. Someone not quite worthy of standing beside his daughter.

“I’m not crumbling, Thomas—” I started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

“Mr. Sturniolo,” a voice interrupted. I turned to see a man in a crisp black shirt, camera hanging from his neck. “Mrs. Devereaux requested a photo of you and your fiancée. She wants one... now.”

Thomas let out a hearty chuckle, clearly enjoying the interruption. “Well then, don’t keep her waiting.” He turned to me, lifting his glass once more. “Go on, son. Go take a picture with my daughter.”

Every part of me wanted to decline. To say no, not now, not after everything. But too many people were watching. Guests mingled just outside the sitting room. The weight of expectation hung in the air like perfume.

So I gave a short nod, forcing myself to rise to my feet.

As I stepped out into the grand hallway, I saw Aurora stood near the staircase, her hands clasped in front of her, shifting her weight nervously between her heels. She wasn’t smiling—her expression was tight, guarded, like she wasn’t sure whether she should breathe or brace for impact.

She looked stunning. The burgundy of her dress caught the glow from the chandelier above, casting warm light over her shoulders.

Aurora’s gaze lifted when she saw me approaching.

Our eyes met—and for a split second, it was like we were alone in the hallway again. No guests, no photographers, no pressure. Just her…and me. But whatever flickered between us disappeared just as fast. She quickly looked away, smoothing down the front of her dress, a nervous habit I’d seen before.

“Alright, you two,” the photographer said brightly. “Let’s get one nice shot for the family. Stand a little closer… yes, perfect.”

I stepped beside her. She didn’t speak, and I could feel the wall she’d built between us.

“Mr. Sturniolo, hand on her waist?” the photographer prompted, oblivious to the quiet tension.

My jaw clenched, but I placed my hand gently on her waist. She flinched—barely—but enough for me to notice. She didn’t pull away, though. She just stood there, like this wasn’t the first time she had to pretend.

“Aurora, hand on his chest. Chin up a bit.”

She obeyed. Her fingers grazed my chest like I was fragile glass. I didn’t breathe.

“Now, just one more—maybe something a bit more candid. Chris, why don’t you give her a quick kiss on the cheek? Something soft—natural.”

Aurora stiffened beside me.

I should’ve said no. Should’ve shrugged it off and walked away. But instead, I leaned in.

She didn’t move.

My lips brushed her cheek, just for a second. That smell of Roses fills my nose

When I pulled back, I didn’t look her in the eye.

The flash went off.

“Beautiful,” the photographer said with a satisfied grin. “You two photograph like a dream.”

But it didn’t feel like a dream, and I needed to find my uncle and get out of this.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: Ok, guys, here comes the problems. To be fair, the major plot is in a few chapters, because bro...obviously Chris isn't actually staying away from her common now. Thomas thought...he's gonna cause problems. Like and reblog! mwahh] – ceyana

tags: @loser41ifee @bluestriips @cherryystemm @mattsfrenchtoast

(I want to add a lot of people to this tag list, so comment! Don't be shy. kisses <3)

#ceyanabbiolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #fanfic

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fandomtherapy44 · 6 months ago

Text

Trick or Treat Dean x reader Oneshot! Pt2

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: SMUT, language

Summary: Y/n and Dean finally get to have a treat.

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

WC: 2,401

AN/ So this is like a second part to my Congrats you're a Dad fic with Dean, but you don't have to read that to fully understand this one. This was supposed to be posted on Halloween, but life got in the way, so let's just pretend that it is okay! Also, if you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I have a Spike x reader with smut if you're interested!

I blink my eyes open to sunlight peeking through our curtains and shining on our feet. The air is cold and crisp due it being October, and I want just to ignore the world and cuddle myself deeper in the heap of blankets we have on our bed. But sadly, the world demands our attention, well, more like our daughter needs it. I knew Bella would be awake soon her being now seven and having all the energy in the world, man I never thought I would be jealous of my kid. And my boyfriend the father of our daughter Dean Winchester is just softly snoring away.

And I couldn't blame him he has been working a lot for us, both of us were to just afford a bigger place. I softly kiss his nose get out of my bed and grab my robe. I walk to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. I start the coffee and get the pancake mix out I’ve been making new spooky designs for Bella every day, its a pain in the ass to do it but worth it to see her face light up every morning plus it’s a lot easier to get her up for school. I start to make the food pour my coffee turn on a hype playlist on my phone to try to wake myself up.

“Hey, baby,” Dean said in his early gruff morning voice coming into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around me from the back.

“Good morning sleep well?” I responded loving the feeling his arms brought an extra warming to my body.

“Yeah, I did, what is that a witch?” He asked referring to the monstrous creation I have in the pan, no pun needed.

“No, I was going for candy corn.” I slumped my shoulders pout and I could feel his body chuckle at that.

“Aww sweetheart you know Bella loves anything you make for her.” He comforted me.

“But it’s supposed to be-” Before I could get in one of my little overthinking rants Dean started kissing my neck.

“Dean, what are you doing? You know Bella has to be up in fifteen minutes.” I sighed trying not to get swept up in his presence. Which is impossible.

“I am trying to remind you that no matter what you are an amazing mother to our little girl and that you deserve a little treat.” He breathes in my scent and reaches forward to turn off the stove. He starts to kiss my neck and finds my pulse and sucks down on it like he was a vampire.

“Mhh Dean.” I moaned.

“All for you.” Then his hand slips through my robe and to my shorts.

“I love these on you so easy to…” His fingers find their way to my panties and lightly tease my slit. The fingers getting slick on them almost embarrassingly.

“To go in.” I start to move with him and grind up on him a little like a dance. I can feel him getting hard. He moves his shaft against me.

“You…are…playing…with…fire…buddy.” I stated with bated breath.

“Always have.” He then slips in.

“Ah fuck Dean!” Fingers start to pump in gently.

“That’s it just let go.” I'm already close, it’s been a while since we could have a fun time.

“Mommy?” Shit! Fuck!

Dean quickly removes his fingers and goes to wash his hands while I try to compose myself.

“Good morning Princess, did you sleep well?” I asked as I placed her pancakes on the table kissed her head and tried to forget the last ten minutes.

“Uh-huh! Good morning Mr.Dean!” She exclaimed excitedly eating her pancakes with glee.

“Good morning Pumkin!” He adored her back with her nickname. We still have not told her that he was her Dad we really want her to get comfortable and she is.

“Mommy we still have to get my costume.” Our little seven-year-old demanded.

I laugh, and so does Dean, and we sit down, too. “Well, how about this: How does Mr.Dean take you to get one, huh?” Her little eyes light up like Christmas lights.

“Really! Yay! Thank you, Mr.Dean.” She runs to hug him and then to get ready.

He turns to me with a little panic running through him. “I’m going take her? Not that I don’t want to it’s just it will be like a real bonding thing do you think she’s ready or me?” My heart leaps with joy at his shyness and happiness.

“You are ready, plus if you’re going to stay around there is going to be a lot of bonding experiences.” Before I know it he pulls me to his lap.

“Hey I am here to stay and I’m going to rock the socks off of this bonding experience.” He gave me his signature smile and I leaned in to kiss him. We start to drift into what we were doing before and I pull away.

“Mhh baby you're giving me blue balls here.” He gripped my hips.

“Sorry, but we both have work and you still have to drop off Bells at school, maybe later okay?” I get up to get ready. “I lo-” I stop myself. “I hope you have a good day.” I smile and ignore the almost confession I committed.

It’s Halloween and I’m rushing to get ready in my costume.

“Babe you almost ready Bella is pulling on my-” he stops dead in his tracks seeing me.

“Wow just wow.” Scanning me up and down in my Poison Ivy costume he was Batman and Bella was Robin.

“You just trying to torture me aren’t you?” He asked in a low sexy voice getting his hands on me.

“Maybe?” I innocently asked knowing what I was doing.

“Oh, are you really trying to play coy right now?” He gripped harder on my hips.

“Why don’t you find out Mr. Wayne?” I whispered and nipped his earlobe.

“I am going to have you all tied up with your own-” He gets interrupted by our adorable daughter.

“Batman! There are criminals out stealing candy we must stop them!” She pronounced it like a real superhero.

“We are coming, Robin!” He called out. He turns back to me.“We just got blocked again by our own kid what is this world coming to?” He practically whined.

“Sorry, Mr.Wayne.” I kiss his cheek grab my cape and leave with blue balls… again.

We walk hand and hand while watching Bella run down the sidewalk shouting “Criminals beware!” Yes, it is the cutest thing ever. Between the orange twinkle lights and fake monsters on the lawns, little kids running around having fun, and the man I am starting to love it felt like a dream. A dream I never thought I would get.

“Hey, Ivy what's passing through that pretty head of yours?” My Batman asked. I hug his arm tightly.

“Just I think this is the best Halloween Bella and I have ever had.” I kissed his shoulder.

He squeezes my hand in agreement. “Me too, but there was this one year where I got to fight this animatronic that is a horror movie icon!-” He sees my face of confusion and just stops. “Yeah, me too.”

We get home after an hour of Bella yelling about criminals and yes people did look at us a little weirdly. We walk up and Sam and Eileen are waiting on our porch. “Hey guys, sorry but we weren't expecting you.” I hug them both.

“Actually I was,” Dean responded to my surprise.

“You were?”

“I was thinking while Bella has a super fun sleepover with her Uncle and Aunt we can have our own “super fun sleepover”.” I got what he was putting down and I loved the idea. I bend down to Bella.

“Sweetie would you want to-”

“Yes, Mommy! Love you goodnight!” She hugs me quickly and runs to her uncle. I signed thank you to Eileen and she signed back you're welcome and have fun.

“Dean you planned this?” I put my arms around his neck.

“Well what I said earlier is true you do deserve a treat.”

“Well, Mr.Wayne show me to your bedroom.” He picks me up bridal style and takes me to our bedroom.

SMUT 18+ Below cut....

He brings me in and places me on the bed. The room is dark, and a candle is burning, giving off the scent of chocolate and sweet berries in the air.

“Oh, you don’t know how long I've been waiting baby.” He starts to kiss down my neck. Paying special attention to my sweet spot.

“Why don’t you show me?” I raised my eyebrow being bratty. I knew what I was doing and I was good at it. That’s how we met in the first place I may have “accidentally” bent down in front of him at the diner.

“Oh, I will.” He gropes all down on me like he’s never touched a woman before. His fingers linger and drag down my most sensitive areas. Knowing what he was doing.

“Babe? Babe!” I giggled. “We have time now slow down I want to enjoy my Batman.” I spread my hands down his chest. Felling his toned muscles through his costume hell he probably could be Batman. They tensed under my fingers.

“I know it’s just that I miss my Ivy in bed waiting for me.” He nibbles on my neck. Sucking hickies in the deep nape of my neck.

“Me too but we have all night and tomorrow morning so I’m thinking maybe five rounds?” I pronounce confidently. Letting him really get into it. He was now licking those sore spots.

His eyes light up. “You really think we can do five?”

I pull him down by his cape. “You're right let’s do ten,” I smirk. Like I said it has been a while.

“Oh, I like what you're thinking!”

I slowly pull off my costume to reveal my green matching sexy lingerie. I run my hands over my body to tease him.

“Oh my, I think I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“That you are Mr.Winchester.” He climbs on top of me and we start to make out. His tongue slips to meet mine and we start a beautiful rhythm. Like we had a hundred times before.

“Mhh Dean.” His hand goes to my pussy. Fingers go straight in. Really, sloshing in.

“So wet already huh?” The fingers pump in but then move more quickly. My body reacted and involuntarily jumped up. His hand steadied me on my hip. It was so sexy that my body shook from excitement.

“Yes yes!” He makes rings around my walls. He makes patterns in me. Rubbing up and down before I know it I’m cuming.

“Shit, I guess it has been a while.” I chuckle. “You're turn Bats.”

I push him to the bed and get on top of him.

“You want slow or fast?”

“Slow.”

I pull his pants down and bend to pull his underwear down with my teeth and his shaft springs forward. I start with tiny kitten licks and go up and down mainly focusing on the head. My tongue circled the top like a lollipop. The flavor being sweet and salty.

“Mhh that’s it Baby you're doing great.” He sighs in deep pleasure.

At that compliant my pussy gets wet again I guess I have a praise kink.

I then suck deeply. And bop my head up and down making sure to get all of it. I then add my hand to it. And I pump the parts I can.

“Ah fuck!” I can tell he’s getting close. I don’t pull off and he comes in my mouth.

“I will never get tired of that.” He smiles happily.

“Thank you, now should we get to the main event of the evening?” I raise my eyebrows up and down.

“Yes, we should.” He goes to pull off the rest of the costume but I stop him. “Wait I've always wanted to do it with Batman.”

“Oh you dirty girl, okay your wish is my command.” He pulls me to him and slides up his shaft to meet my slit.

“Okay, are you ready?” I nod yes.

He slips in very easily.

“Oh that is…”

“Amazing” I finish.

He starts to move at a careful but intentional pace his strokes in me making music with my body. His shaft was hard as a rock making it juts up like it was a ship hitting the shore but in the best way possible. He held me up in a way I would feel every thrust.

“Ohh Dean…” I groaned out. He is fucking sex on legs littery and physically.

“Y/n… fuck…so…good!” He could feel my walls clench around his dick hard he kept pounding and sweat started to pour from both of us making the slick a lot more slideable.

I grab the sheets in a tight grip to remind myself I wasn’t in heaven even though I felt was pretty close. One of his hands goes up to my nipple to rub it in small circles. His thumb moves over the texture of it and my whole body is in full on stimulation. I moved up my hand to his bicep and his skin was hot. We were both meeting each other in the middle of the thrusts. We were both getting close.

“Dean..” I was breathless.

“Yeah I gotcha Baby okay ready.” I nod yes.

He slows down his thrusts to make sure we can fully chase and enjoy the high. His hand that was on my chest goes to my clit. He makes tiny pets at it.

“Three…Two…One!” Both our bodies exploded together.

He pulls out and flops down next to me in exhaustion.

“Baby we needed that.” he pulled me in under his arm.

“Definitely, so ready for the next round.” I reached up and brought his face to meet mine.

“Ohh give me like thirty minutes to recuperate I’m not twenty anymore.” I smile at that and give him a sweet kiss truly appreciating that he is here and getting older. Because with his old job, he could of very easily of ended at twenty.

“Dean thank you for my treat best one I’ve ever gotten.” I cuddle in deeper and think “I am so in love with Dean Winchester.”

Thank you for reading! And remember to vote! Also, if you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I have a Spike x reader with smut if you're interested!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester supernatural #dean x reader #smut #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester dad #team free will #dean x you #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen

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rorylovesmatt · 10 months ago

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over worked - chris sturniolo

summary: y/n’s first year of college was coming to an end which meant she had to take multiple exams, but one night she broke down feeling too overworked

warnings: i don’t think there’s any? (please correct me if i’m wrong)

word count: 853

a/n: I CANT STOP WRITING HELP (dont look at how stretched out the middle pic is 😭😭) *NOT PROOFREAD*

Y/N sat at her desk in her small dorm room, surrounded by a chaotic array of papers and textbooks. Her laptop screen glowed with a half finished essay and a to do list with more tasks than she could handle stared back at her from the wall. The pressure was relentless. She had been studying for hours, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyelids.

She glanced at the clock, it was past midnight. Her chest tightened as she thought about the exams she still had to prepare for. Panic began to set in, her breathes coming in short, uneven gasps. Despite her best efforts to keep going, she could feel her self control (frank ocean mentioned!) slipping. The tears came slowly at first, and then in a torrent, her body shaking with silent sobs.

In the midst of her breakdown, her phone buzzed on the desk. It was Chris texting to check in on her. They had been dating since the beginning of the semester, and he had always been her rock. She tried to compose herself, wiping away tears as she picked up the phone.

"Hey how’s studying going?" his message read.

Y/N took a deep breath and typed back, "Not great. I'm really struggling right now”

Within minutes, her phone rang. Chris's concerned voice filled the room. "Hey Y/N, talk to me what's going on?"

Hearing his voice brought fresh tears to her eyes. "It's just... everything" she said, her voice trembling. "I'm so overwhelmed Chris. There’s so much to study for and I feel like I'm drowning. I don’t know if I can do this"

Chris's heart ached for her. "Stay right there" he said gently. "I’m coming over”

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N opened it to find Chris standing there, his expression filled with concern. He stepped inside and pulled her into a comforting hug, holding her close as she cried into his shoulder.

"It's okay" he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. "You're going to be okay"

They stood like that for a while, Y/N finding comfort in his embrace. When her sobs finally died down, Chris guided her to sit on the bed. He looked around at the cluttered desk and the stress etched on her face.

"You're doing too much all at once" he said softly. "You need to take a break Y/N. You can't keep going like this"

Y/N nodded sniffling. "I know, but there's so much to do, and I feel like I can't afford to stop"

Chris cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away her tears. "You can and you need to. Your health is more important than any exam. Let's take a break okay? We can go for a walk or get some fresh air. Just something to clear your mind"

She hesitated, but the exhaustion in her bones made her agree. "Okay" she whispered.

Chris helped her put on a jacket, and they left the dorm, stepping into the cool night air. The campus was quiet, and the stars twinkled overhead. They walked in silence for a while, the calmness of the night slowly easing her anxiety.

They found a bench under a tree and sat down. Chris took her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin. "You know, you’re one of the strongest people I know" he said quietly. "You’ve worked so hard this year and I’m so proud of you. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here with you, every step of the way"

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling the tension in her body slowly release. "Thank you Chris. I don’t know what I’d do without you"

They stayed there for a while, talking about everything and nothing, the simplicity of the moment providing a much needed escape from her worries. Chris shared funny stories from his own exams, making her laugh and reminding her that she wasn’t the only one facing these challenges.

When they finally made their way back to her dorm, Y/N felt lighter, her mind clearer. Chris helped her organize her desk, quickly coming up with a reasonable study schedule that included breaks and rest. He kissed her forehead and tucked her into bed promising to check on her the next day.

#rory writes ౨ৎ #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fic #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo

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rhonuscorner · 10 days ago

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I am such a simp for your alien Eclipse, you have no idea XD

Going off that spin off scenario, I think I like that idea just as much as the awesome story you’ve got going right now lol, what would Eclipse do if after he realizes that our interest is genuine, and we find him one day just completely out of it, looking like he’s gonna have a mental breakdown any second, that we simply reach over and give him a hug. Would he be like super shocked and try to get away, or would he gradually concede and let us comfort him?

I'm seriously loving all the simping lmao, it makes me so happyyyyyyyy~

Yeah the more I think about it the more I'm starting to like it too, it has potential XD

He would be very very surprised, it will definitely catch him off guard. Eclipse has a pretty firm lid on his emotions and can normally keep it all bottled up until he's alone with his brothers because he knows he can always rely on them to give him a boost, support, whatever it is he needs in that moment.

But yeah, sometimes it just happens before he can stop it. He doesn't want to show weakness like that in front of us because weakness can be exploited and he needs to be strong. He can't afford to look weak in front of others, not when he has so many relying on him.

Even after he learns we're genuine in our interest in him, even our affections, he still wouldn't want us to see him like that. Because what if we're disappointed? What if we don't want to be around him anymore, stop believing that he can help us if he can't even control himself?

So yes, his initial reaction would be shocked surprise and try to pull away so he can compose himself asap, but if we were to hold on, let him know that it's okay and we wouldn't think any less of him, it's okay to be vulnerable for once... he'll eventually give in, accept the comfort we're offering and sink back into our arms because lemme tell ya... he needs that.

He really needs that.

He's been needing it for a long time.

#Fnaf Sun #Fnaf Moon #Fnaf Eclipse #Fnaf DCA #DCA AU #Alien AU #Dark Matter #DM Sun #DM Moon #DM Eclipse #DM asks #Rhonu blogs Fnaf #Rhonu replies #Anonymous

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seungminsbaldspot · 1 year ago

Text

Impenetrable - Chapter Two

Pairing: Hybrid/Poly BTS x Reader

Series Link: impenetrable masterlist

Word Count: 2,020 ish

Warnings: Mentions of gangs, hitman behavior, mentions of killing

Taglist: Open

Notes: If you want to join the taglist, comment and I will get it sorted for you!

prev / next

Recap:

As the pack eats dinner, You can feel the heaviness from the stress of the day take a toll on you, causing your eyes to flutter. No matter the amount of training the lab or Eanses puts you through, when the body needs something it will either get it or break down.

And unfortunately for you, your eyes close.

And when they open, You see your target eye-to-eye with you.

The sudden change in surroundings startles you as your eyes open to find yourself face-to-face with Min Yoongi. The realization hits you like a jolt of electricity, and a surge of panic courses through your veins. How did he find you? Did he sense your presence despite your efforts to remain hidden?

Your furry ears move a thousand miles a minute, searching for any audio clues. Your eyes search your surroundings, Only Min Yoongi is in the room. There is only one exit. Two if you count the window, but looking out the window, You are on the second floor. How did you even end up here? How did you not wake up while in transit?

Your eyes land back on Min Yoongi. His gaze on you intensifies. You can’t read his expression, His face is very blank. But as he is your target, the files that you’ve read about him, this was not surprising to you. As you focus back on Min Yoongi, his blank expression is disconcerting. Your training reminds you to stay composed, but the uncertainty of the circumstances tests your resolve.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air in the room hangs heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, Min Yoongi breaks the silence, his voice low and measured, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" You think for a moment, whatever you say could lead to your demise. Whether by Min Yoongi’s hand or Eanses.

“I will not lie to you,” You start off, “I was sent here on a mission. But I am sure you were already aware of that. “He scoffs, “No shit.” You shrug, the shrug causing you to realize that you were tied down to the chair that you were sitting in. Min Yoongi smirks, “You’re tied.” Now you scoff, “No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What the hell are you doing here? I haven’t done anything for the past five years. What the fuck do you want from me?” You sigh, looking down. Yes, you were trained to kill, But watching this pack for the past seven months has gotten you unfortunately attached to them.

“Sent to eliminate you.” You mutter out. As soon as you said that, Someone bursts through the door, “And you still want to be alone with her?” Alpha says, well more like yells.

The sudden intrusion startles both you and Min Yoongi. Alpha's commanding presence fills the room, and you can feel the tension escalate. Min Yoongi's expression shifts from annoyance to curiosity, and you're acutely aware of the precariousness of the situation.

Alpha's eyes narrow as he assesses the scene, taking in the tied-down figure before him. "Explain," he demands, his tone leaving no room for evasion. You take a deep breath, considering your next words carefully.

"I was sent here to eliminate Min Yoongi," you repeat, meeting Alpha's gaze. The admission hangs in the air, and you brace yourself for their reactions. Min Yoongi smirks again, seemingly unfazed by the revelation.

Alpha's eyes, however, narrow further, and the intensity of his gaze suggests that your presence poses a significant threat to the pack. "You're tied because we can't afford to take chances," Alpha states, his voice firm. "Why should I believe anything you say?" Min Yoongi scoffs, “Why would she lie about that? Isn’t it obvious she’s telling the truth?”

Alpha's gaze shifts between you and Min Yoongi, considering the dynamics of the situation. The skepticism in his eyes persists, but Min Yoongi's endorsement of your truthfulness carries some weight. The atmosphere in the room remains charged with uncertainty.

"Truth or not, we can't ignore the fact that she's here to eliminate me," Min Yoongi says, his tone calm but with an underlying edge. "The question is, what do we do now?"

Alpha remains silent for a moment, contemplating the options. Finally, he issues a command, "Untie her, but keep a close eye on her. We need more answers before making any decisions." Min Yoongi bends down to untie your wrists, once letting them free you try to rub the marks away.

As you rub your wrists, Alpha warns, "Make a move, and you won't like the consequences. Now, start talking. Who sent you, and why are they after Yoongi?" You shrug, “Either way I am about to end up dead.” The two men’s gaze intensifies for a moment, “Look, we don’t care about what could or could not happen to you. We just want to know who fucking sent you.” Min Yoongi grumbles. You suppose that is fair, You are nothing to them. Looks like they have a lot in common with the humans from the lab.

You sigh, pulling down the collar of your shirt, to reveal the branding that Eanses gave you many years ago. The giant E that stretches across the skin of your neck cause your target to sharply inhale. The room falls silent as Min Yoongi and Alpha take in the sight of the branded "E" on your neck. Their expressions shift from suspicion to a mix of surprise and realization.

Min Yoongi's gaze narrows, and he demands, "Eanses? What's your connection to them?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, realizing that your mission has taken an unexpected turn. The dynamics of the situation have shifted, and you find yourself at a crossroads where the truth becomes your only ally. You tell the truth you die, you lie you die. There is no winning for you. Death is the only end deal here.

“I was created for Eanses.” You admit, your voice steady. “ They worked closely with a hybrid lab that tested on us. There was a group of us, I was the only one that lived, or well ‘passed the tests’.” You sigh, trying not to let the memories of the lab and the people make you crumble in front of your target and his pack, “Once Eanses got word of me passing, they took me. Trained to kill. Conditioned to follow commands without question. My official mission was to eliminate Min Yoongi and anyone in my way.”

Alpha and Min Yoongi exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them. The room remains silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation palpable. Alpha breaks the silence, his voice stern, "Why are you telling us this now? What changed?" You meet Alpha's gaze, recognizing the need to explain your unexpected deviation from the mission. Your eyes widen, You have officially failed your mission.

“I… I’m not sure. Perhaps watching you all live so… freely? It’s quite a selfish thought of mine I suppose, But I knew there was no way I could fuck your lives up. Ending Min Yoongi’s life would most definitely fuck up the packmate’s lives. I was trained to not give a shit and yet I’m giving all of my shits for this random ass pack.” You angrily ramble, However you aren’t angry with the two men in front of you, no, you are angry with yourself.

The admission of your internal struggle echoes in the room, and your frustration with yourself is easily seen. The unexpected depth of your connection to the pack has thrown a wrench into the well-laid plans of Eanses. Alpha and Min Yoongi exchange another glance, this time with a hint of understanding.

Alpha's stern expression softens slightly as he observes your internal conflict. "You chose a different path," he states, his tone less accusatory and more contemplative. "We need time to consider the implications of your presence and the threat Eanses poses to us."

You nod, understanding the situation that the pack is in. However, You are unsure what this means for you though.

Min Yoongi, who has been mostly silent throughout, finally speaks, "If you're telling the truth, then your mission has obviously failed. And returning to Eanses would mean death. But trust is earned, not given. We'll be watching you closely, and with any sign of betrayal, I will kill you." You nod understanding.

Your frustration simmers as the weight of your actions sinks in. The pack's decision remains uncertain, and the reality of your failed mission looms heavily over you. “I’ll talk to the others. Explaining everything. I’ll see their reactions and then we will move on from there. You stay here with her. “

Alpha's command leaves you alone with Min Yoongi in the room, the air thick with tension. As you process the implications of your failed mission and the uncertain fate that awaits you, Min Yoongi studies you with a contemplative gaze.

The silence stretches, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Min Yoongi finally speaks, his voice calm, "You've put yourself in quite a predicament. Trust is a rare thing here, it's not something easily earned."

You nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. The weight of your choices and the consequences they carry weigh heavily on your shoulders.

Min Yoongi leans back, crossing his arms, "You're not the only one with a troubled past. We all have our demons. What's your story, aside from being a tool for Eanses?"

As you contemplate how much to reveal, Min Yoongi's question forces you to confront your own history. The vulnerability in his eyes suggests a shared understanding of the complexities that shape a person.

“I don’t know what else to tell you really. I’ve already said all I needed to say.” You shrug. Min Yoongi studies you for a moment, his gaze searching for any signs of deception or hidden motives. The room remains quiet as he contemplates your words.

"You've said what you needed to say, but that doesn't mean your past is irrelevant," he replies, his voice measured. "If you want a chance with the pack, honesty is crucial. Tell me more about the lab, Eanses, and what they did to you."

You hesitate, considering how much to reveal. The vulnerability in Min Yoongi's eyes hints at a shared understanding of pain and struggle. Opening up might be a way to bridge the gap of distrust that currently separates you from the pack.

"Fine," you sigh, “The lab stole me. It was your typical hybrid lab, testing on hybrids Genetic manipulation, conditioning, and training, all that, I’m sure you’re aware. Eanses was already working with this particular lab, trying to create the perfect hitman. And if they were caught and killed oh well because they’re a hybrid. You know? There was a group of like fifteen people who were put through the testing and training for Eanses. They all died, but me. I was successful. Eanses took me as their perfect hitman. I’ve been doing missions since then. This is the only one I’ve failed.”

Min Yoongi listens attentively, and for a moment, there's a glimpse of empathy in his eyes. The bond between you and the pack may still be uncertain, but your willingness to reveal more about your painful past could be a step towards building understanding and trust.

Min Yoongi absorbs your words, and the weight of your history hangs in the air. The vulnerability you've shared opens a window into the dark chapters of your past, and the shared understanding of pain and struggle begins to bridge the gap between you and your target.

"I've had my fair share of struggles," Min Yoongi admits, his tone softer. "We all carry our demons, but it doesn't define who we are. The fact that you're here, willing to talk about it, suggests there's more to you than just being a tool for Eanses."

The acknowledgment of your shared struggles creates a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Min Yoongi's gaze reflects a mixture of empathy and contemplation, as if trying to decipher the complexities of you.

"What now?" he asks, breaking the momentary silence. "Even if the pack decides to let you stay, Eanses won't take kindly to your failure."

You look down, “Death is really my only option here. Sounds gruesome but I am nothing to them, just some spendable life.”

The conversation is interrupted by the door swinging open. It’s Alpha. “The pack wants to meet you.”

taglist: @sophiaj650 @danielle143 @sweet-nothings467

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adozowa · 6 months ago

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CHAPTER 1 EP 1

New beginnings.

:: WOOH! NEW START ON EXCEED SERIES, now anyone wants to guess what's with this spirit and what it does?

GN READER ✦

|| Dio manipulation, Sibling-like bond with Erina ||

It was another sunny day, the bright orb of light illuminating the verdant surroundings. You knelt beside a small patch of earth near a grand mansion, its majestic architecture casting a long shadow over the garden. Even being near such an impressive structure felt like a privilege, yet your focus remained on the tiny seedling before you, tenderly watering it. This little plant was your pride, a week-old testament to your care and dedication.

However, your serene moment was interrupted by distant voices—harsh and grating. Panic set in as you scrambled to find a hiding place, darting behind a nearby bush. You glanced anxiously at the tools and supplies you’d left near your seedling, silently hoping they would remain untouched.

Through the gaps in the leaves, you saw them—a group of ruffians cornering a young woman. Their taunts and jeers carried across the garden, making your blood boil. Yet fear rooted you in place. Confrontation was a luxury you couldn’t afford; one wrong move and you’d be in over your head.

“Awh, c’mon, girly, no need to be shy~” one of them sneered, stepping closer to her.

Your fists clenched as you watched, helplessly cursing your hesitation. Just as you were about to muster the courage to act, a figure appeared—a blue-haired boy. He stepped in without hesitation, standing between the woman and her tormentors.

For a brief moment, you felt relief. But it was short-lived. Outnumbered, the boy was quickly overwhelmed, taking blow after blow before retreating in defeat. The woman called after him, concern etched on her face, before chasing him down.

As the garden quieted once more, you exhaled a shaky breath and emerged from your hiding spot, rushing back to your tools. But before you could get far, the woman suddenly reappeared, her hurried steps colliding with your own.

“Ah—!”

The two of you tumbled onto the grass in an awkward heap. Wincing from the impact, you tried to steady yourself, fatigue threatening to overtake you.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly helping you to your feet.

You waved off her concern, brushing yourself off. “It’s fine, really. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

As you gathered your tools, she introduced herself. “I’m Erina. Erina Pendleton.”

Her kind smile was disarming, and before long, the two of you struck up a conversation. You explained your supposed "fragility"—a harmless lie to excuse your earlier inaction. Despite this, Erina seemed genuinely intrigued by you. The two of you spent a while chatting before she eventually excused herself, likely still thinking about the blue-haired boy.

That day marked the start of a friendship, one that would grow stronger with time.

TIME SKIP

“HEEEEEEYYYY!”

Erina’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned to see her running toward you, arm in arm with someone. As they got closer, you recognized the figure beside her—it was the blue-haired boy from before!

“Erina, you never told me you were seeing this dude!” you exclaimed, mock indignation coloring your tone.

The boy stepped forward, offering a polite bow. “Jonathan Joestar,” he introduced himself.

He exuded elegance and grace, the very image of a gentleman. His mannerisms, so refined and polished, stood in stark contrast to your more casual demeanor. You begrudgingly admitted to yourself that he seemed like a perfect match for Erina.

Before long, however, the two of you found common ground. Your humor clashed wonderfully with his calm and composed nature, creating a dynamic that quickly made Erina regret introducing you.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” You doubled over with laughter after Jonathan accidentally blurted out something inappropriate, his face turning crimson in embarrassment.

“Jonathan, you’re going to make them faint!” Erina groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Your bond with Jonathan grew over time, but one day, you met someone else—a blonde man who carried an air of both charm and menace.

---

You were tending to your plant when you noticed Jonathan standing defensively in front of it. Opposite him stood a strikingly handsome blonde man, his expression unreadable but his stance threatening.

“Dio! I will not allow you to harm this plant at any cost!” Jonathan declared, his voice firm.

“JoJo, do not tell me you are that eager to shield a mere plant—”

“JONATHAAAAAN!” you called out, jogging over and cutting Dio off mid-sentence. Without acknowledging the blonde, you started rambling to Jonathan about the plant’s progress, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

Dio cleared his throat, drawing your attention at last. You froze, suddenly aware of his piercing gaze.

“My apologies,” he said smoothly, a sly smile on his lips. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Dio Brando, Jonathan’s brother.”

You hesitated before shaking his outstretched hand, only to realize too late that your grip was unexpectedly firm.

“Oh my, eager are we?” he teased, his smirk widening.

Flustered, you quickly let go. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you stammered, your face heating up.

Dio chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. But when your attention shifted elsewhere, his expression darkened ever so slightly as he glanced at Jonathan.

Jonathan, on the other hand, frowned at the interaction. He didn’t trust Dio, and the thought of you becoming entangled with his brother unnerved him. You were a dear friend—practically family—and he couldn’t bear the idea of you getting hurt.

As you continued your awkward attempts at small talk with Dio, Jonathan silently vowed to keep a close eye on his brother. There was no way he’d let Dio manipulate or harm you.

The question lingered in his mind: how far would Dio go, and would you be ready for it?

#jjba x gn reader #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba x you #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #jonathan joestar x reader #jonathan joestar #dio brando #erina pendleton #fyp #exceed jjba series

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tiddiewitch · 2 months ago

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Second Chances - Ch. 6

Description: Agathrio AU / Wagatha - Agatha's event is finally here and all is going to plan until the mysterious woman shows up.

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 4K

Notes: This is probably my favorite chapter so far. Yes Agatha and Rio finally meet.

CHAPTER 6 - The Fundraising Dinner

The next morning she awoke to a mound of purring fur once again kneading on her stomach. Shooing Scratchy away she rolled over to check the time. As she did so her daily alarm went off and she groaned knowing she couldn’t ignore it and fall back asleep. Groggily, she shuffled around to get ready for the long day ahead. By the time she made her way out the door she finally felt like she had her head on straight, she couldn’t afford to repeat yesterday’s disasters.

She hurried into the building, running into Sharon in the lobby as they both made their way to the little theatre where the event was to be held.

“Please tell me the florist is already here”

“Oh yes dear, they arrived about 30 minutes ago and are getting everything unloaded.”

“Good I’ll need to work with them on getting two more centerpieces, we’ve had to make accommodations for some additional donors. Can you go find the caterer, we need to review things sooner rather than later.”

“Of course dear, Herb said he planned to stop by with the musicians before lunch, do we have something prepared for them or do you need me to bring lunch in?”

“Ugh, I didn’t even think about that. Yes we’ll need to bring something in.” Sharon stopped her just as they were about to head in.

“Dear, forgive my asking, but are you feeling alright? You haven’t been yourself these last few weeks. You usually don’t miss a beat.”

“I’m fine, I just have a lot going on.”

“I know you probably don't want to talk about yesterday, and your mother…”

“Absolutely not!” Agatha snapped harder than she intended. “Not today, we have enough going on.”

“Alright dear, but if you need anything…”

“I don’t, are we good?”

“Yes, I’ll go get the caterer.” Sharon scurried off.

As she entered the room she could feel the chaos of set up screeching to a halt as all eyes made their way to Agatha. She loved feeling the power of her presence keeping everyone on their toes. She made her way to the front of the room near the small stage and set her things down as the work began to resume around her. She looked around realizing the additional tables and chairs had not been set.

“Somebody get me Carl” she shouted as she made herself comfortable at a table nearby. A few people flurried about until Carl came rushing up to her.

“Agatha! Good morning, how’s everything looking?”

“I’m missing those two additional tables I asked for yesterday.” Nervously, Carl glanced around.

“Um… sorry, must have missed that. Where did you want them?”

“Well if you bothered to look at the updated seating chart I sent.:.” She stopped short as she was able to log into her computer and see the email she intended to send still sitting as a draft on her screen.

“Nevermind, I’ll show you myself.” They walked around discussing the adjustments as groups rushed off to get everything reset. She settled back at the table just as Sharon returned with the caterer, an iced coffee in her hand.

“Here you are dear, and don’t worry I made sure they brought some samples for you. You need to eat something.” Despite her hardened demeanor she couldn’t help but have a soft spot for that woman.

“Thank you Mrs. Hart”

“Anytime dear”

The meeting with the caterer went off without a hitch thanks to Sharon. Though hectic, all was going well. The florist was accommodating and able to adjust to the new seating arrangements and things were coming together just as Herb made his way in with the musicians.

“Ah Agatha! Glad to see you’re here! I’d like to introduce you to William, our guest composer. This young man has some serious talent! Just wait until you hear the work we’re premiering this evening, positively magical!”

“You can call me Billy. Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Likewise. Well the stage is set, you’re free to rehearse, don’t let me stop you.” She didn’t intend to stick around for the rehearsal. She couldn’t stand the tediousness of hammering in the same passages over and over and didn’t want to hear it so, with everything in motion, she headed back to her office.

As soon as she closed the door she could feel the anxiety she had been carrying begin to melt away. Everything was coming together, as it usually did, but this time it was really exhausting her. As she took a moment to gather herself she got a text from Jen.

I know you’re probably busy getting set for tonight but wanted to see if you had time for lunch?

She had the time, she wasn’t going near the room until the rehearsal was over at 2. Though, she just wasn’t sure if she had the energy to leave and come back more than once and she’d still have to go home and change later.

There’s no way I’m leaving before 4 today so unless you’re coming to me it’s a no.

I’ll bring you lunch, besides Alice wants to get the lay of the land before tonight.

Alice? She’s the one bartending?

Duh! You thought she was going to fork over her trained staff on a Saturday when she could do this by herself in her sleep?

Agatha was shocked! She barely knew this woman and did her best to make a bad first impression. Jen really had her wrapped around her finger.

I’m in my office so head up when you get here.

Wait, what do you want to eat?

I don’t care, surprise me. Something light, it’s going to be a long day.

Agatha busied herself with the other work she had been avoiding while preparing for this event. Before she knew it she heard a knock at her door.

“I come bearing food and an Alice!” Jen announced as she and Alice entered and sat at the couch. “How ya holding up? It’s been a while, are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine, what did you bring me?”

“Turkey Club. You’re welcome.” Jen huffed. She grabbed the bag from Jen and started to devour the sandwich. “Damn Agatha, did you forget to eat again?”

“No, but I could eat my way through an entire buffet right now” she said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“What time should I be here tonight and what do you want me to wear?” Alice asked

“Guests will start arriving at 6 so if you want to come back at 5 that should be plenty of time. And just all black. It shouldn’t be too difficult but, you have to watch out for Dorris, that woman has a hollow leg and she’ll drink the bar dry and end up on top of a table. Everyone else needs to get drunk enough to put us in their will.”

“You got it. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I wish I could be there to see you in action, but alas, babies wait for no one and I have a feeling it’s going to be a busy night. Have you heard from Ralph lately? I thought he was supposed to be back last week?”

“His cruise ended in the Maldives and he decided to take some time off. I guess he found a sugar daddy who has whisked him away to Greece or something. That asshole was supposed to be my plus one for this thing so I’m not very happy with him right now.” Agatha grumbled as she sat back in her chair.

“Good for him!”

“Whose Ralph?”

“Lady Bohner” Jen and Agatha said in unison.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you all knew each other. He’s been in and out of my lineup for years!”

“Yeah he’s a peach.” Agatha said sarcastically. “Well, you want to see where you’ll be trapped for the night?”

“Sure!”

“I have to head into work, but I’ll see you later!” Jen leaned in and kissed Alice. Agatha rolled her eyes at the affection. “I’ll see you, whenever?” Jen started to walk towards the door.

“What no kiss for me?”

“I would rather give birth.” Jen scoffed and headed out.

“Alright, follow me.” She motioned to Alice and they headed back down to the little theatre.

“What’s this event for?” Alice asked as they headed down to the theatre.

“We have a yearly dinner for our top donors and feature one of our guest artists. This year they found some wunderkind twink composer. He’s premiering a new work and they’ll be the first to hear it. They love the exclusivity of it so it’s usually one of our biggest nights for donations.”

As they approached the room they could hear the quartet running through the music. The tones sounded eerily familiar and hauntingly beautiful. Agatha took a moment to let the sound wash over her before quietly entering, gesturing for Alice to follow silently. They walked over to the bar in the back and Alice began to take inventory and get her bearings while Agatha stood transfixed by the music filling the hall. She eventually made her way to sit at one of the tables to finish listening. As they played the final notes she could feel tears welling in her eyes. This was not like her, but something about the simple melody rocked her to her core. Before a tear could fall she shook her head and took a breath, stilling the cacophony of emotions threatening to burst forth, and turned her attention back to Alice.

“Any questions? Anything you need for tonight?”

“No, I think I’m all set. Do you know what time this usually wraps up?”

“I’m going to try and get people out of here by 11 but you shouldn’t need to stay past then regardless. We have a crew coming in tomorrow to clean and break down and catering will take care of any dishes.”

“Oh this is going to be a breeze!”

“Obviously you can keep any tips they give you, I can pay you $700 for the night if that works?”

“Seriously? Yeah that totally works. Thank you”

“Well you are helping me out of a bind last minute and we have the budget. I’m very good at my job”

“I’m not at all surprised at that.”

“Well, if there’s nothing else you need I have to head out and pick my dress up at the dry cleaner. I’ll see you at 5?”

“See you then!”

By the time she got home Agatha had just enough time to grab a snack, feed Scratchy and get ready for the night. She had decided on a bright red dress that she’d had for years that at one time had belonged to Wanda. The top was a tight corset fit with straps over the shoulders and the skirt gathered in cascading waves down the right side. They had always been able to exchange clothes though Agatha was a bit taller than Wanda. As she went to zip up the dress it took a little more effort to get into than she remembered, having to suck in and lift her tits to get it closed. She touched up her makeup adding a bright red lipstick to match the dress and finishing with the perfume oil she got from Jen. She squeezed her feet into a tolerable pair of high heels and grabbed a second pair of flats to change into later, there’s no way she’d make it the whole night in heels. She took one final look in the mirror. The dress was a little tight, but it made her tits look great and she could use that to her advantage with the lecherous donors. Satisfied with the look, she drove back to Music Hall.

She arrived just in time to catch Alice walking up to the building. Dressed in all black, as requested, with her hair tied back, she really knew how to clean up.

“Oh hey Agatha! Oh my gosh you look stunning! How does this look for tonight? I brought a suit jacket just in case.”

“Oh thank you Alice! You look great, I wouldn’t worry about the jacket, it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth.”

They walked in together and headed to the little theatre. Agatha held her breath as she opened the doors hoping everything had come together. She was not disappointed, the air was filled with the scent of the flowers that engulfed the room. Candles flickered on each of the tables and the stage giving the room a warm and inviting glow. The musicians were warming up and all was set. She could now relax and begin to enjoy her evening. This, after all, was her favorite part; prying an ungodly amount of money from these wealthy, decrepit, assholes. After all, they had more money than they knew what to do with, so why not put it to good use.

She headed out to the lobby where she met with Herb. “Agatha, you've done it once again! Everything looks fantastic! If all goes well I think we might break a record.”

“Oh, I intend to!” She said with a villainous grin.

“That’s what I like to hear! They are going to be blown away with the music tonight. That kid has some real talent! Did you get a chance to hear any of it?”

“A bit. I’m interested to hear the whole work.”

“Well you’re in for a real treat! As are you my good man! Good to see you Alan!” Herb called out as he wandered to greet the first of the patrons.

Agatha plastered the most charming smile on her face and joined him in welcoming everyone in. Lawyers, executives, and doctors filed in dressed to the nines showing off their exorbitant wealth, all of which Agatha was eager to siphon from them. At last the board members began to arrive, the first of which was Dr. Jones followed by a gaggle of new doctors. As she took in the faces of those surrounding him her heart began to race. There was one new face that was all too familiar, it was her. Dressed in a fitted forest green and black suit with a golden tie. Her hair pulled back in a twist with a few strands falling down framing her face. The woman was more enchanting than ever. Determined not to let her professional demeanor slip she took a breath and made her way over to the doctor.

“Dr. Jones, how lovely to see you! Herb had mentioned you’d be joined by some new colleagues.” She did her best not to make too much eye contact with her but she could feel the weight of the woman’s gaze transfixed on her, that ever familiar smirk glowing on her face.

“Agatha! It’s been too long! Let me introduce you to some of our new surgeons!” He rattled off the names of the men around him before finally introducing her. “And this is Dr. Vidal, she specializes in neonatology.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you Ms. Harkness.” She said with a wink as she reached out, taking Agatha’s hand in hers before placing a soft kiss on her fingers. “You can call me Rio.” Agatha could feel her face begin to flush and tried to respond.

“It’s mine, the p…pleasure” clearing her throat she tried again. “The pleasure is all mine. Well I’m going to head in. See you all in there.” She turned quickly and rushed back to the little theatre and over to Alice at the bar.

“Wine, now please!”

“Sure” Alice chuckled. “Any particular wine? Or?”

“I don’t care, just get me something to drink, quickly.”

“You got it.” Alice poured her a glass and she quickly drank most of it. “You good?”

“I’m fine” she choked out. “It’s going to be a long night.”

At that moment she saw the group of doctors entering into the hall, Dr. Vidal quickly spotted her as they found their seats. She couldn’t seem to escape the woman’s attention and worst of all she appeared to enjoy how this unexpected turn of events flustered Agatha. Agatha finished her drink and escaped to her table at the front just as dinner was being served. She picked at her plate and attempted to make small talk with Herb and the composer while she used most of her energy to avoid looking in the direction of Dr. Vidal. At last Herb stood up to make his announcement before the concert started.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening, you all are in for something truly remarkable.” As Herb spoke Agatha snuck back to the bar. “Young William Kaplan here has composed something very special and you all have the distinct honor of being the first to experience what I am sure will be one of many notable works. But first let’s hear from our young savant!” The room rang out in applause as William took the stage. Agatha turned to Alice and asked for another glass of wine.

“Thank you Herb, it is really my pleasure to share the premiere of my latest work with all of you” As Agatha sipped her wine she could feel someone approach the bar beside her.

“Bourbon, neat” she heard the sultry voice of Dr. Vidal. Of course it was her, as if she had been waiting for an excuse to corner Agatha again. Drink in hand she stood next to Agatha, not saying a word, taking in William’s speech.

“This work, in particular, is influenced by the folk songs of my mother’s homeland of Sokovia. Though you may recognize some of the themes used I’ve managed to expound upon them in a way that I hope resonates with each one of you. So without further ado, Lullabies of my homeland.”

Agatha and Rio stood there, neither one truly acknowledging the other's presence, as the music began, the haunting melodies from before washing over them. It was then that Agatha realized why they had stirred something in her. Sokovia, Wanda was from Sokovia and had sung many of these folk tunes to her. Immediately she was brought back to when she was pregnant with their child. Each night Wanda would hum these very songs to the little life growing inside her. Now those same tunes were echoing in the chamber around her. She could feel a lump beginning to form in her throat as she fought to hold back the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She took another sip of her wine before making her way to the bathroom.

Once inside she stopped at the sink running her hands under the cool water and using a towel to cool the back of her neck. It had been one thing to be thrown off by Dr. Vidal’s unexpected presence, but now this music. She could feel herself losing the battle to the tears threatening to fall as they began to stream down her face. She allowed herself a moment for them to pass before she pulled herself together. This was one of her biggest nights and she couldn’t afford to blow it. She adjusted her dress, giving herself a little more room to breathe and fixed her makeup before sneaking back to her seat in the theatre.

Somehow she made it through the rest of the concert without another emotional moment. As the music drew to a close the room erupted in applause. Herb once again made his way to the stage to make a closing statement.

“Let’s hear it again for Mr. Kaplan and our wonderful musicians!” Applause once again filled the room. “It is due to the overwhelming generosity of the people here tonight that we are able to support and honor new and growing talent such as Mr. Kaplan. Which brings me to everyone’s favorite part. With your commitment tonight of continuing generosity we are able to offer William a residency and will continue to premier his works along with several other young and highly talented musicians. So as you enjoy the rest of your evening make sure to connect with myself, Ms. Harkness, or any of our other staff you see around to make your donations, which I’ll remind you are tax deductible!” Herb finished with laughter from the crowd.

Now was Agatha’s time to shine. She schmoozed, and sweet talked thousands out of the pockets of the wealthy people around her. She knew which buttons to push to make them fold to her desire. She was in her element, so much so that she nearly forgot about Dr. Vidal. That was until the woman once again managed to corner her.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Ms. Harkness herself, once again.”

“Dr. Vidal, I hope you enjoyed the music this evening.” She could feel her heart begin to flutter and a heat rise in her chest at the woman’s presence.

“Oh I’ve been enjoying much more than the music this evening. This is quite an event you conjured up. Do you do this often?”

“We have several events throughout the year but this is by far the most extensive.” She was doing her best to not make direct eye contact. She didn’t want to fall apart at the woman’s gaze.

“Well, you really know how to make an impression. Is it just me or does it seem serendipitous the way we keep running into each other? It’s almost as if the universe is trying to tell us something.” At that she caught Agatha’s direct attention. Rio's eyes glistened as she spoke as if a fire was burning behind them.

“Oh, and what might that be?” Agatha responded almost sheepishly. Rio leaned in closer.

“I’m not afraid to admit that from the moment I first ran into you in the bookstore I was enamored by you. Then you appeared again, and again. But each time you managed to slip away before I had a chance to even get your name, let alone your phone number.” She wagged a finger at her. Agatha’s heart was again racing at the boldness of this woman. “And now here you are, Agatha Harkness, radiant as ever. Perhaps it’s fate?” She said with raised eyebrows as she took a sip of her drink. Agatha stood there stunned and speechless, a blush blooming across her cheeks, her mouth agape as she searched for a way to respond. In the end all she could utter was a meek, “Perhaps.”

“Well I don’t want to keep you from what looks to be an overwhelmingly successful night. Though, I’m not letting you get away this time without at least giving you my number.” She handed Agatha her card. Matte black with glossy gold lettering. “For whenever you’re ready to see where fate takes us. Until then, te veo.” And with that she brushed past Agatha to rejoin her colleagues.

The night eventually drew to a close and the final guests made their exit. Agatha slipped into the flats she brought with her and took a moment to rest as workers began to clear dishware from the tables around her. She looked toward the bar and saw Alice helping to clear and clean glasses.

“You know you can head home. They’ve got this covered.”

“Oh I don’t mind helping out. Makes things go faster. Seems like it was a good night, everything went smoothly.”

“Oh yes, I’m guessing we nearly doubled what we made last year. Herb will be thrilled.” She and Alice shared a chuckle at that. “Alice” she paused. “Thank you… for tonight. It wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without you.” The words felt foreign to her but she meant them.

“Oh of course, anything for a friend.” Agatha was touched by the sincerity in her voice.

“Oh here, before I forget, your check for tonight. If you’re good I am going to head out. I’m afraid if I don’t leave now I might fall asleep on my way home.”

“Oh be careful, if you want I can give you a ride.”

“No, I'll be fine, I don’t have far to go. I’ll see you around. Oh and tell Jen I owe you two dinner soon.” With that she headed home.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #kathryn hahn #rio vidal #agathario au #alice wu gulliver #billy kaplan #aubrey plaza

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whiteraven87 · 20 days ago

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Driven by Love: Rebirth from the Ashes - 15. The Fight Continues

-----------------------

The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist

Part 3: Driven by Love. Rebirth from the Ashes

Prologue

Nightmares

For Her, I'd Do Anything

Shared Nights

I Thought It Was the End

Scars

Say it again

Pleasant Views

Oh My God

Together

A Shared Trip

The Boss's Girl

I'm Back

She's mine [18+]

The Fight Continues

I Bloomed

Something's Going On

No Brakes

City of Sin [18+]

Title Defense [18+]

FIA Gala

Home and Christmas

Just Us [18+]

A Dream I Don't Want to Wake Up From

Return to Scotland

The Woman Who Blossoms

Return to the Paddock

Media Circus

Total Domination

Marathon

The Limits of Restraint [18+]

The Unexpected Guest

Fear of Loss

The Truth I Didn't Want to Say

I Won't Let You Go

A Promise I Couldn't Keep

The Truth I Couldn't Tell Her

The Last Evening

The Darkest Day of my life

Epilogue

---------------------------

Warnings: slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, sex scenes,

---------------------------

15. The Fight Continues

Brazilian Grand Prix, November

POV Miriell

Since that day, I felt as if a massive weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Years of struggle, uncertainty, and fear that I carried within me were slowly beginning to fade. With each passing day, I realized that I was truly loved and accepted—unconditionally. Toto never stopped proving it to me. He was always there, even though he knew I could take care of myself. My strength didn't scare him—on the contrary, he admired and respected it. And yet, he still wanted to protect me.

The season was coming to an end—four races remained, and the championship battle was intense. Max wasn't backing down; I could feel his breath on my neck. But I had no intention of giving up the title without a fight.

During race weekends, both Toto and I were entirely focused on our work. Every moment was spent in briefings, data analysis, and strategy preparation. We were professionals—we couldn't afford distractions.

But in the rare moments we had to ourselves, in the evenings or short breaks between sessions, our closeness found its way through small gestures. In lingering glances, in a soft brush of fingertips, in a subtle smile that spoke more than a thousand words.

But on the track, only one thing mattered—the fight.

Brazilian Grand Prix

The race in Brazil was chaotic. I started from pole position, but Max overtook me in the first corner, aggressively blocking my racing line. I knew this was going to be a long and difficult race.

For the next laps, I pushed hard, driving on the edge of risk, trying to find a gap in his defense. Red Bull had excellent pace today, and I was fighting not only against him but also against tire degradation. The team informed me over the radio that I needed to manage the rear tires, but I couldn't afford to back off.

Toward the end of the race, the strategy didn't play in my favor. I pitted two laps later than Max, giving him just enough of an advantage to control the pace until the finish. I tried to chase him down, but I was missing just a few tenths per lap.

"P2, Miriell. Good job, you're still leading the championship" I heard James' voice over the radio.

I pressed my lips together. I wasn't angry—I couldn't be. I had given it everything, but today, it just wasn't enough.

"Copy that. Thanks, guys. We keep fighting."

I crossed the finish line in second place, listening to the triumphant cheers in the Red Bull garage. Max performed celebratory donuts on the straight, while I simply returned to the pit lane.

Post-Race Briefing

The atmosphere in the debriefing room was tense but professional. We analyzed the data, discussed strategy, and considered what we could have done better. Toto was calm, composed, but I could tell he was dissecting every detail not just as a team principal, but as someone who knew me better than anyone else.

As the others started to leave, Niki approached me. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a thoughtful look.

"Great driving. The fact that Max had the better strategy doesn't change the fact that you were damn fast today."

I sighed, leaning against the table.

"I was fast, but not fast enough."

"It's just one race, Miriell. You still have the lead. And besides..." he smirked slightly "you know there's nothing sweeter than winning on the final stretch."

I looked up and returned his smile.

"You're right."

Toto walked up to us, looking at me with that characteristic mix of concern and professionalism.

"I know you're disappointed, but that was a good race. You fought until the very end."

I nodded.

"This isn't over."

"No, it's just the beginning" he replied with a hint of a smile.

I knew he believed in me. And I knew I had to believe in it too.

Three races remained in the season. Everything was still possible.

----------------------------------------

NEXT -> 16. I Bloomed

----------------------------------------

"I put my armor on, show you how strong I am."

You can read the story here as well:

AO3 Unstoppable Series

Wattpad: Part1 I Part 2 I Part 3 | Part 4

🇵🇱 Dla Polskich czytelników [for Polish readers] [PL]:

Seria Niepowstrzymana AO3

Wattpad PL: Part1 I Part 2 I Part 3 | Part 4

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forget-me-maybe · 30 days ago

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What single track would you use to introduce your bg3 OC?

thank you for the tag @scandistar <3 this game was hard (how do i choose one song omg???) but also so much fun!!

🗣 Rules:

Pick 1 song for each OC!

Include a link to the song/artist/composer

You can add more than one OC (but no more than 3)

brief canon/lore (I'm a curious sort)

Tag people!

tags for: @redroomroaving @lizziemajestic @judasiskariot if you want to <3

(Note: Any fandom is welcome to join!! And please, don't forget to link to your fanfics so we can find them! It's time to shine, babes!)

my beloved tav from a change of heart who i have no screenshots of so you're getting a couple of picrews

picrew 1 and picrew 2

Tav/OC name: tavaxeni tumbledown Level: 12 (10 pre-canon) Race: tiefling Born: baldurian (tumbledown) Background: criminal/soldier Class: rogue thief/fighter multi class Alignment: chaotic neutral Love interest: no aradin Sworn enemy: happiness, it seems.

backstory short: growing up on the rugged outskirts of baldur's gate on her grandmother's small farm, she spent her childhood ditching school (she's really bad at reading and counting (go to school kids!!!)), roaming the streets, fighting with the brampton boys (probably didn't get killed because she was faster and better at hiding than them), nicking things off whoever looked like they could afford losing some gold, got thrown in jail a couple of times, got better at lock picking her way out of jail. joined a semi-legal mercenary band to "straighten herself up", sort of just ended up working a lot of security for the rich tossers that she loathes the most. cares for her people and the less fortunate and would probably be a folk hero is she didn't cut corners and made impulsive and stupid decisions.

i have a playlist for the fic, some are relationship songs and some are just for her. it was sooooo hard to choose one but this one's both vibe and a bit of lyrics.

don't look back into the sun - the libertines

Don't look back into the sun You've cast your pearls, but you're on the run And all the lies you said, who did you save?

...

They will never forgive you, but they won't let you go (let me go) She will never forgive you, but she won't let you go, oh no

(other honourable mentions: the fallen AND bite hard by franz ferdinand, take aim by kasabian, do me a favour by arctic monkeys, better in the dark by jordana & tv girl, do the right thing by d.i.d)

~*~*~*~*~*~

tav number 2! (or number one, truly, my golden child) from you keep showing up

(same picrew makers as above (and her hair should be a colder brown in the right one smh))

Tav/OC name: ester tavanthuriel Level: 12, 15 pre-canon Race: moon elf Born: evereska Background: noble Class: storm sorcerer Alignment: chaotic good (or chaotic whimsy as someone described her in a comment which i really liked) Love interest: raphael Sworn enemy: [redacted]

short backstory: as the second child of an evereskan noble family, she was born with both a silver spoon and the lucky feat. really, i mean it, spoiled rotten for a century!!! but as it is with second children, they have the purpose of being used in political marriages. now, tav's a free spirit, and getting tied down in marriage was just about the last thing she'd like to do with her life. thus, she postponed it through arguing she needed to pursue academia for a while and went to silvery moon. spent a couple of years there before fucked off and traveling the sword coast, spending a decade here and there (ran a potion shop in neverwinter, a restaurant in waterdeep, went to baldur's gate to open up a flower shop before getting snatched by the nautiloid), ignoring the letters and sendings from her family but still picking up the gold they sent her way (spoiled rotten, as i say. though that's kind of her parents way of showing love since they don't really know how to talk to each other without putting their own expectations on tav and making her lash out). and here we are!

i do not have a playlist for this fic or for tav so i had to think long and hard about this one... (technically it should be you keep showing up by drowners but it has nothing to do with them except i thought the title was fitting lol).

sprawl ii - arcade fire

now this one's a feeling, i can imagine her listening to this as a young elf in her room, wanting to see the world and what's beyond.

#tav: ester #“brief lore” eh #fun and games #Spotify #tav: xeni

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stellar-haikyuu · 5 months ago

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stellar's haikyuu ocs! ☆ timeskip jobs

I'm still wondering how to go about their individual introductions, but I figured it would be fun to share my Haikyuu original characters' future professions! This post will also feature their names and their meanings hehe. ♡ Feel free to leave any thoughts or questions hehe I'll be more than happy to overshare! (Unfortunately, I still find drawing quite difficult, so I use this picrew by veluv_art to help make my visions come to life.)

Works as a pediatric speech-language-hearing pathologist

Plans to specialize in augmentative and alternative communication (AAC)

Collaborates with Ennoshita whenever he is given pediatric cases

Works as a volleyball coach for Niiyama Girls High School

Plans to coach the Japanese women's national team and youth/under 19 representatives team

Works as a preschool teacher

Employed in the same facility as Inuoka

Supervises or leads workshops at her sister's dance studio every other weekend

Works as a video game developer

Plans on spearheading the creation of more sports games

Also works as a freelance graphic designer

Plays volleyball with the former Date Tech members

Works as a family medicine resident/doctor

Employed at the same hospital as Shirabu

Does free consultations for families who cannot afford health services

Works as an author of both children's and adult books

Writes under two pseudonyms and is employed at the publishing company Akaashi works at

Privately posts fanfiction online

Works as a food and lifestyle vlogger

Promotes Kita's rice farm and Onigiri Miya

Also works as a soundtrack composer for small film projects and games

Works as a professional volleyball player

In the same team as Kanoka (Hikari Pharmaceutical Red Rabbits)

Also a member of the Japanese women's national team

Works as an artist

Sells merchandise such as stickers, crochet items, keychains, you name it

Co-owns an art makerspace with Himekawa

Works as a psychologist in the private and school setting

Plans to specialize in child psychology and play therapy

Often asks for Hirugami's insights for cases needing animal/pet therapy

Works as a disability/accessibility advocate and consultant for the Paralympics

Hosts accessibility workshops for workplaces and universities

Hyakuzawa always promotes her advocacy projects on his social media and volleyball interviews

stellar's masterlist

#haikyuu #stellarverse #haikyuu oc #haikyuu ocs #haikyuu original characters #karasuno #aoba johsai #nekoma #date tech #shiratorizawa #fukurodani #inarizaki #niiyama girls #tsubakihara #kamomedai #kakugawa

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bridgetotheskyyy · 2 years ago

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chapter two.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Gaara gives you a tour of Suna and Temari takes you shopping with ulterior motives . . .

Chapter warnings: hints of parental abuse, mentions of death and violence, threats

Word count: 12.9k

A/N: I truly hope this chapter exceeded your expectations. But, if not, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Next chapter (which I will try and drop mid-September, think September 15th. I'll let y'all know if there are any delays; I'm in the process of moving from the shithole I live in to somewhere hopefully nice, so fingers crossed!) we get our anime beach episode! Embrace yourselves!

Read on ao3 here

Your empty stare fixed on the equally empty stage. Shinobi dispersed into the crowd to initiate calm.

To no avail.

“It’s an attack!”

“Oh, our poor Lord Kazekage …”

“What’s happening?”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the stage, now serving as your judge, jury, and executioner. If Gaara didn’t return, who else would be blamed? Who could blame them for blaming you? You had been the last to touch him.

In your periphery, Chuuyou inched toward you. An apex predator ready to defend his cub. He would shed blood here tonight if it came to that.

You swallowed a scream.

Had your father not trusted you after all and taken matters into his own hands? Did he have your innocuous gift swapped with something more deadly? The minutes ticked on. Oasis ninja clotted around you.

Your heart drummed in your ears as Baki reappeared. Silence fell, attention rapt as he took the microphone.

“Everything is all right!” he announced. “Lord Kazekage is not normally fond of alcohol and accidentally had the strongest liquor available tonight! He is completely fine.”

An universal sigh of relief; murmurs sounded, coated in a new tone as Baki’s words sank in.

“Our Kazekage is so responsible!”

“Not like his brother … you see how he was chugging those glasses earlier?”

“Oh, of course, yes …”

Your ninja relaxed as well, affording you space to breathe.

Tension wiped the strength in your legs; you collapsed into your seat. You were in the clear.

And … and Gaara was all right.

… Why did you care about that?

Baki abandoned the stage and joined the soothed crowd. You raced to compose yourself as he came toward you, the static of your nerves revving up in anticipation of what he would say.

“Are you all right —?”

“Yes,” You said with too much haste. You ironed out the fabric of your kimono to occupy your hands. “Is … is Gaara all right? Really?”

“He is.”

“… May I see him?”

You hung your head. You feared Baki’s face, the possibility of finding suspicion there, but when you lifted your gaze, his uncharacteristic smile had returned.

“Of course,” he said.

“So irresponsible!”

They had moved Gaara to the Suna Hospital for emergency analysis. Baki led you to his room. Gaara was bedridden, a wet towel on his head. Medical ninja fretted over him, plumping pillows and measuring his temperature, but they dispersed when they saw you coming. Temari was haranguing Kankuro in the corner.

“Gaara.” You came to the foot of his bed. “Are you all right?”

He opened a charcoal-ringed eye. “Yes. I apologize; I wasn’t thinking.”

“Lord Kazekage just needs some water and he’ll be right as rain,” came the soothing voice of a masked nurse.

Baki squeezed the space between his eyes; Temari was still berating Kankuro.

“I knew we should’ve been more careful!” she yelled. “You didn’t even try to help —!”

She beat him over the head with her fan.

“Ow! Temari —! Ah!”

“That’s enough, Temari.” Gaara raised from bed. He removed his towel and looped it over his wrist. “I would like to return to the party.”

Temari paused. “But … but Gaara …”

“There’s still one more thing that needs to be done,” he said, “and I must ensure it happens.”

“Yeah, Temari,” Kankuro said, rubbing his head. “Stop embarrassing him in front of his future wife —“

He recoiled as Temari growled at him.

She relaxed. “Well, If you’re feeling well enough …”

“I am.” Gaara was on his feet, approaching the door. He stopped to nod at the nurses. “Thank you for your care.”

The nurses had hearts in their eyes. “Ye — yes, of course, Lord Kazekage!”

The four of you returned to the halls of the party. The tension had left the party as it had your body. Warm applause greeted Gaara upon his reappearance. Cordial conversations flowed like unblocked rivers . The sky darkened enough to invite the blinking of stars.

Gaara glanced over his shoulder to Baki. “It’s time.”

Baki nodded and hurried away.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Gaara turned to you. “I was meant to present a gift to you as well.”

What? You blinked. “Oh …”

“I didn’t know what you would want,” Gaara went on. “And … I’ve been told I can give out rather strange gifts. I didn’t want to give you anything useless. I’ve prepared something nice instead.”

He led you to a tower, and the two of you climbed stairs to the top. At the top, a winged roof hooded over the reigning stars.

Gaara grasped the railing. “Come …”

You obeyed and stood beside him, waiting.

Pop. A whistle. A white tip shot into the air. You tipped your neck skyward — an explosion of lights and color.

Fireworks …!

More scurried into the air to become sparkles of green, orange, red, and purple. The light of fireworks descended to illuminate the space between the two of you.

“Gaara …” You stared in awe as fireworks mingled with the stars before tumbling into the desert.

You were speechless. Had anyone ever done something so nice for you? No one. Not even Father. Especially not Father.

You grazed the necklace — that evil necklace — still swung around your neck, along with your mission culminating in its use. You lowered your gaze as crimson light cast on your skin.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned to Gaara. His small smile tipped the edges of his mouth. Your silence tempered it.

“Is this …all right?” he asked tentatively. “Do you like them?”

Green replaced crimson, but you were immersed in the turquoise of Gaara’s eyes.

Your mission became white noise as you smiled to assure him. “I … I love it … Thank you.”

Gaara nodded. “I’m glad. I … hoped you would.”

When he seemed content enough, you resumed marveling at the show, where fireworks of pure white blazed into the sky to rival the dazzle of stars.

Dear Father,

I’m all settled in now. They’ve made things very comfortable for me. Your daughter is well. I want you to know that. They threw a party to honor my arrival — isn’t that nice? It’s been two days since — it went well. I don’t think anyone suspects anything. I haven’t seen much of the Kazekage, though; he’s been so busy since the party.

I have a question to ask.

You never shared the full details of Hideo’s death with me. I suppose you thought I was simply too young when it happened and didn’t wish to traumatize me, but I need to know. Are you sure the Kazekage was responsible for it? I’m only asking because he is not what I expected. He is very kind to me and to his siblings. They seem to love him immensely.

If you’re not sure, is it really necessary to go through with this plan? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to let things carry on as they are? Wouldn’t it be better for both of our villages if we let this marriage come to pass?

Despite the warm welcomes, I miss home, and I miss you.

Much love, (Y/n)

Baki had taken it upon himself to become your official caretaker, escorting you wherever and whenever you wanted to go. He led you to the Kazekage’s office. You looked forward to seeing Gaara, though you knew you shouldn’t.

Baki opened the door for you. You grinned; the cactus you had given Gaara now sat on his desk. One among many plants decorating the room. They livened up the place while circular windows ventilated the small space, granting all a shorthanded view of the village underneath. Towering buildings stood nearby. The windstorm had subsided, only a slight breeze trembling the lines of utility poles.

Temari stood beside the Kazekage’s desk, looking unimpressed. At the sight of you, she managed a smile.

“Good morning, (Y/n). Hope you slept well.”

“I slept great, actually!” You said. “Gaara’s put his gift on his table, I see.”

The desk chair swiveled to reveal Kankuro flinging his hands out.

“Surprise!”

You blinked, confused.

Silence.

“What’s happened?” You asked.

“Nothing good, I promise,” Temari deadpanned.

Kankuro’s enthusiasm deflated with a sigh. “There’s been a new arrangement.”

“Kankuro’s decided to step in and substitute as Kazekage for a few days,” Baki said, “so you and Lord Kazekage can get to know each other.”

“That’s a great idea!” You said.

Free time with Gaara? One thought collided with another: would this give you time to accomplish your mission? Anxiety coupled with dread became acutely aware of your necklace sitting against your chest.

You wanted word from your father first before you proceeded. And still … It was much too soon to try to make a move.

“Um, where is Gaara?” His name sat sacred on your tongue, blasphemous to utter aloud.

“He’s in a meeting right now,” Baki said as the door opened and a servant entered, “as he won’t be taking part in them for a while.”

“What —“

“Here are the papers for today — uh, Lord Kazekage.” The servant dropped a stack of paperwork on the desk, now belonging to Kankuro.

He smirked. “Heh, thanks, but I’ll need my morning coffee as well. How am I supposed to work without my coffee?”

The servant gulped. “Yes, right away!” He scurried out the door.

Kankuro leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Temari huffed. “It’s only temporary.”

You chuckled. You had grown to like the Sand siblings tremendously. Being sequestered in the sand palace with them was not as miserable as you had imagined; the stories, the bickering, the atmosphere of a home lived in. It was like having a sibling of your own again …

You returned to your inquiry. “What is the council concerned with?”

“Oh.” Baki cleared his throat. “It’s concerning … the festivities a few days ago. Gaara’s incident.”

“Oh.” Bad news. What had caused Gaara to drink so much in the first place, you wondered? Was it you? Had you distracted him? Would the council blame you for what happened, though Gaara hadn’t?

Kankuro winked. “Afterward, he’ll be giving you a tour of the village.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“There’s just one thing.” Temari faced Baki. “Why weren’t you chosen to serve as a substitute for Gaara?”

“Gaara recommended Kankuro personally,” Baki explained. “He trusts Kankuro — he’s also very good with people, should the need for such a skill arise.”

“What?” Temari placed her hands on her hips. “And I’m not?”

“You are marrying a Leaf shinobi in a matter of months,” Baki replied. “We believed that would cause some … issues.”

Temari’s cheeks reddened. She wilted into herself. “Oh, right, well …

“In the meantime,” Baki turned to you, “I will be chaperoning you and Gaara during your tour.”

“I see,” you said.

Kankuro scoffed. “Like my little brother needs a chaperon.” He raised his head proudly. “My gentlemanly little bro.”

“You’re completely right, though …” Temari giggled into her hand. “You probably need one more than he does.”

“Maybe so … Hey!”

More time passed, during which Kankuro made more demands, sending servants out as quickly as they came in.

You giggled into your sleeve as an anger mark sprouted on Temari’s forehead, growing ever larger by the second.

“What’s next, Kankuro?” Temari gritted her teeth. “Free ice cream?”

“You read my mind!” Kankuro shot a finger into the air. “For everyone! And the Suna library’ll have an Icha section! We’ll keep Jiraiya-sensei’s memory alive by —“

Temari hit him over the head, and Kankuro fell over the desk.

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?”

Your perked, interest piqued. “Hm? Did you say the Icha Icha series?”

Their heads turned to you in mortified silence.

“How …” Baki looked like he had seen a ghost. “How do you know about those books, Lady (Y/n)?”

“Oh, I love them! All the ladies read them in court! And you know the author? How amazing —!“

“You’re allowed to read them?” Temari said.

You tilted your head, confused. “Of course. My father recommended it … why are you all looking at me like that?”

They all stared at you, wide-eyed and in horror.

“Did I … say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

A fresh voice. Gaara entered, wearing a faint smile.

“And yes,” he said. “We did.”

“Gaara,” You grinned. “Long time no see.”

You were genuinely happy to see him and, maybe, it was all right to be — for the time being. Until your father returned your letter, you would let yourself be.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

Hope laced your fingers together. “Are you saying you’ve read the books, too?”

Temari gawked with horror. Baki sighed over Kankuro’s snicker.

“Yes.” Gaara tilted his head, considering. “But I didn’t understand them. Perhaps you can —“

Baki cleared his throat unusually loudly. “Perhaps we should get a move on. You both have a big day ahead of you.”

“Right,” Gaara said. “I meant to tell you about what I had planned today. If that appeals to you.”

“Of course it does!” You strode to him. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“Have fun, you two!” Kankuro waved you off beside a facepalming Temari as Gaara led you, like a gentleman, out the door.

Sunagakure made you eat your words.

The village sat in its giant crater, nestled away from wandering eyes, a maze of stucco and rough sand. The buildings shouldered the responsibility of weathering the sandstorms. The orderly streets and marketplaces left you feeling guilty about the footprints you left underfoot. Domed buildings stood squat and quaint. Come nightfall, the gift box windows would cast yellow gazes on you in the dark.

“It’s beautiful …” You said.

“You’re a long way from home, so this must be strange for you,” Gaara said.

In truth, you had always been under your father’s thumb. This mission had taken you out from under it and now you could breathe. No one stood analyzing your every move, ready to correct or chastise or worse.

“It’s …” You trailed as the three of you turned a corner. “Different, to say the least.”

“I apologize for being away,” Gaara said. “I hope you’ve been able to settle in without any problems.”

His courtesy flattered you. “Thank you, but I was fine, really!” You debated sharing your next point. “I even sent a letter to my father telling him I arrived safely.”

“Hello, Lord Kazekage!”

You, Gaara, and Baki stopped to entertain the woman approaching, waving and smiling.

“Oh, hello, Yen,” Gaara said. “It’s been a while. Is the baby all right?”

Your head snapped to him. Yen. He knows her name? Your mouth hung agape; your father would never know the name of a villager, let alone the servants conditioned to scrub his palace.

“Yes, she just started teething!” the woman — Yen — giggled. She noticed you. “Oh, and who is this?”

Another girl crept toward you. “That’s Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n)!” she squealed.

Villagers crowded the three of you; déjà vu of the party nights before started you chuckling to yourself.

“Oh!” Yen said. “Your fiancée! A pleasure to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s all mine, surely …” You mumbled.

“Lord Kazekage,” another girl whined. “You said you’d come to my rehearsal!”

“No way! He said he’s coming to our picnic!”

“I’ve got him Sunday —“

“No, I do!”

“Please, please, everyone.” Gaara raised placating hands, albeit with a smile. “I will honor all of my agreements, I swear it!”

“You’re so pretty,” one girl cooed to you.

“What’s the Oasis village like?” asked a man.

Baki hung over your shoulder. “I’m going to have to get the two of you out of here,” he whispered. “I’ll find a quieter street for the two of you to walk.”

You nodded, though you had no idea how he would manage this, what with the villagers ready to carry your fiancée away like some sort of handsome singer. “Understood.”

“What are you doing —?”

Temari squealed, shooting up from the side of your bed.

“Oh.” She relaxed as Kankuro entered. “You scared the shit out of me. Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock.” Kankuro crossed his arms. “Twice.”

“Well, don’t!” she said before ignoring him to flip pillows and pop her head through the bed curtains.

Kankuro’s eyebrow twitched. “Temari. What are you doing?”

“Looking for clues.”

“Wha—?” Kankuro gawked. “Clues?”

“Yes, Kankuro. Clues. Hints, evidence — anything that could indicate a plot.” Temari rummaged through drawers. “I just know something’s up.”

“You think (Y/n)’d have something where we could easily find it?” Kankuro asked rhetorically. “You think she has some assassination diary laying around that says ‘April 5th. The plan to kill Gaara’s going well. The onigiri was great last night, too’?”

Temari paused. “A diary … I didn’t think of that.” She closed the drawer in favor of the bed. “Kankuro, help me flip this mattress over —“

“Temari,” Kankuro stepped forward, resigned to the fact he had been talking to himself to take Temari’s hand. “Stop. This is insane.”

She drew her hand away. “You know that man has it in for Gaara!”

“No, Temari, I don’t know that,” Kankuro said, blocking her access to your bed. “Stop shoving — ngh! — You’ve gotta let the past be the past —“

“Kankuro, move —“

“As sub Kazekage, I order you to stop!” Kankuro said.

Temari paused, surprised.

“That’s right.” Kankuro grinned, victorious. “You know you have to do as I say.”

Temari sighed. “Fine.” She thrust a finger in his face. “But this. Isn’t. Over.”

She stalked from the room. Kankuro watched her go.

“Yeah, I know it’s not,” Kankuro said.

Not fooling anyone, Temari; I know what this is really about …

Baki did the impossible and secured a vacant street where the two of you could traverse unmolested. But the villagers still took it upon themselves to wave at Gaara from their windows before retreating behind curtains. Baki fell behind to give you some alone time and, though you couldn’t see him, you knew Chuuyou was nearby, foreseeing everything.

“They love you,” You said as he waved back. “They absolutely love you.”

Color blossomed on Gaara’s face. “It’s quite a change … from when I was a child.”

“Did they all know you, then?”

Gaara lowered his hand. “Yes … albeit for a very different reason. I was a very lonely child. The Fourth Kazekage kept me … away from others.”

“I understand.” You chuckled. “I think being the child of a village head always leaves so much to be desired. My father wouldn’t let me have any friends growing up; he always feared plots against our family.”

Gaara lowered his gaze. He said nothing as the two of you came to a bridge. And for a second, you began to think you had misjudged his meaning when he continued —

“I was a very different person then, like I told you before,” Gaara said. “I had my uncle, Yashamaru, but I was feared by everyone else.”

You weren’t stupid. Gaara of the Sand Waterfall. The Beast of Suna. He must be alluding his savage reputation. Oasis shinobi spoke of the terrors of facing him if they were blessed enough to return to tell the tale. When the Fourth Kazekage sent Gaara out on missions to ravage his opponents, opposing villages, yours along with many others.

But still, wouldn’t he have been a little boy then? How could he have been so feared, even then? You were tempted to ask for more, but, fearful of overstepping your bounds, kept your mouth closed.

“There is a reason they treat me this way; I’ve worked hard to redeem myself in their eyes,” Gaara said.

You came to rest beside the railing of the bridge, head tilted in interest. “What changed?”

A long beat before Gaara spoke again.

“I met someone who showed me a different way of living. That … I could be precious to others.” Gaara squeezed the rail as if to ground himself, though you pretended not to notice. “After that, I wanted nothing more than to make the people of this village love me.”

His words set in as you studied his face. This was a man who took it upon himself to know the name of his villagers, who was gentle, kind …

Respect bloomed in your chest. You … you admired him.

But how could you when …

“Lord Kazekage!”

A little boy ran up the bridge, stopping at the hill of it. He leaned on his knees to catch his breath.

Gaara stood upright, commanding. Kazekage. “What is it?”

The boy perked. Something crumpled in his little fist. Something yellow …

He offered it to Gaara. A flower.

“It’s for you!” he said. “My friends told me you were around the village, so I picked it myself!”

Gaara took the flower and inspected it thoughtfully, as did you; a few of the petals lay bent and crinkled from the boy’s well-intentioned hassling, but the creases increased the flower’s beauty. Gaara looked down and smiled.

“Flowers are rare in this village,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.”

The boy’s laugh was music as you approached Gaara.

“Whatever you did to make them love you, I think it worked,” You whispered over his shoulder with a wink.

Color had returned to Gaara’s cheeks. He faced the boy. “Is it all right if I place it in her hair? I think it would look nice on a woman.”

“Sure thing!” the boy said.

You froze, stunned as Gaara fixed it in your hair.

“You look beautiful, Lady (Y/n)!” the boy said. He scratched his head sheepishly. “I wanted to find one for you, too, but I couldn’t, hehe …”

“I’m sure she appreciates it,” Gaara said.

You touched your hand to the flower, gingerly feeling its soft petals against your hair.

Another voice, feminine, called a name.

“That’s my mom,” the boy said. “Bye, Lord Kazekage!”

The boy waved at the two of you as you said your goodbyes. Gaara turned to you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The grumble of your stomach gave away your ladylike position. “Hehe. Starving.”

“I know just the place.”

Kankuro tossed a page in his book as Temari opened the door with her back, carrying a new stack of papers.

He looked up — and groaned, sinking into the chair. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! More papers? Ugh, my first day and I’m already exhausted …”

Temari steadied the stack on the desk. “You should read more, anyway … Wait.” She went bug-eyed. “Are you actually reading?”

“Yeah,” Kankuro sighed, returning to his book.

“It’s a miracle!” Temari cried. She nudged closer to sneak a peek at the pages. “What’s the book?”

“I sent for some books about the Oasis village,” Kankuro said. “I figured it’d be a good idea; maybe it’d help us bridge the gap between our villages if we knew more about each other. But …” Kankuro closed the book. “They’re so secretive. They’ve clearly gone to great lengths to hide the secrets of their oasis. Not that I blame them. But there’s nothing on it, really. Just historiographies of the village and some legends. Do you know any?”

“Uh, no?” Temari crossed her legs and leaned against Kankuro’s arm. “Just that they think the oasis was graced by some water spirit a hundred years ago.”

“That’s not all.” Kankuro flipped to the pages at the back of the book to inspect its index. “Apparently, that water spirit blessed the village with an oasis after he defeated some beast who’d gone rogue.”

“Charming,” Temari deadpanned. “I was never much for fairy tales, though. What are you getting at?”

“The oasis is said to have special powers,” Kankuro said.

“I thought you couldn’t find anything concrete?”

“If you read between the lines, that’s really what they’re getting at.” Kankuro leaned back after having found nothing substantial in the index. “What if (Y/n) knows about it? Who knows what we might gain access to?”

Temari snorted. “Now you sound like you’re on the council.”

Kankuro stiffened. “Not what I meant. I don’t want to play their game; I’m not looking to use her or anything. Just … who knows? Maybe it has healing abilities or something? Maybe it can bring back the dead? The possibilities are endless. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious?”

“Sure.” Temari looked out one of the windows. “But, Kankuro, even if it’s real and —“ She cut him with a pointed stare. “— there isn’t some plot we’re unaware of. We’re not just enemies to (Y/n)’s village — we’d considered blasphemous to them. I don’t know how friendly they’d be to us poking around.”

“I don’t know …” Kankuro closed the book but eyed it still, interest lingering. “I’m going to see if I can find anything else, though.”

“Understood,” Temari said. “But let’s tackle the paperwork first. Promise?”

Kankuro’s eyes roved over the stack. He sighed. He abandoned his book for the first sheet in the stack. “Promise.”

The restaurant was placed in a canyon on the outskirts of Sunagakure. The place held intimacy, as it was sparsely occupied with a few lone couples. You could hear their excited murmurings from afar as the two of you ordered food. The icing on the cake was poor Baki, trying to pass off as a simple bystander while so obviously a guard meant to protect Gaara. The man looked so out of place, shuffling his feet on the sidelines, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe you should tell him to go back to the office,” You whispered to Gaara.

“He … insisted,” Gaara said.

Baki awkwardly crossed his arms and looked down the path of the canyon, playing as cool as he could.

“Kankuro told me about this place,” Gaara said, ostensibly to get your attention away from his uncomfortable former sensei. “He took a date here once.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Gaara flattened a napkin. “Only, I don’t think it ended well … he said something about the girl pouring hot soup all over him.”

“Popular with the ladies, I see.” You giggled into your hand.

“This is a nostalgic place for our family, Gaara said. “My father took my mother here to propose. My uncle, Yashamaru, recommended it.”

You smiled. “You mention him often.”

“He taught me a great deal about love.”

You leaned toward him. “He must be so nice.”

Gaara grew quiet.

“… he was.”

Your shoulders fell. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Gaara picked up his glass to immediately put it down — perhaps wary of its contents. “He taught me love is … the heart’s desire to serve someone closest to you.”

A FAMILY of orators, then.

“The heart’s desire …” You ruminated. “That’s beautiful.”

“So when Kankuro showed me this place …” Gaara looked up at the canyon’s ledge; the lights strewn from one side to the other, while umbrella roofs shielded them from the heat. A blade of light whet the side of Gaara’s face. “And told me about how Yashamaru had my father bring my mother here, I couldn’t help but think of his words again.”

“I look forward to learning more about your village and your family,” You said, transfixed. “The other things I know have been enforced by the rivalry between our villages.” Something occurred to you. “I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble.”

Gaara frowned, clearly in need of clarification.

“With the council, I mean,” You elaborated. “I know you had to meet with them today.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Gaara said.

A smile tugged your lips. Was he bragging?

“They feared the incident could make the Sand look foolish,” Gaara continued, and when you tensed with memory, he added, “but I was quick to remind them the party seemed much livelier after what happened. It would have been rude if I had chosen not to engage in the festivities.”

You fiddled with your glass. The idea of playing even a minor role in the reproachment Gaara received needled you with guilt.

“I agreed there wouldn’t be a repeat incident,” Gaara said. “They were also concerned about what could happen if your father heard. Lady Ikanago said he could take it as an insult.”

The mention of Father cast an extra shadow over the two of you, doubling with the umbrellas above your heads. “What did you say?”

“I told them this is only a problem because the Sand has built up a reputation for terrorizing smaller territories around it,” Gaara replied. He cast his gaze down. “I do not deny my part in that terrorization. It is why I keep Joseki on the council.”

Joseki. Memories of the man flooded your mind.

“He doesn’t like you at all.” You said it as though it were not obvious, intrigued by what Gaara’s reply would be.

“No, he doesn’t.” Gaara’s gaze remained on the table. “I do not want to forget about my previous sins, nor the pain I’ve caused. Joseki’s disapproval serves as a frequent reminder of both.”

You tilted your head, stupefied. He kept a man on his council who despised him; was he so dedicated to making amends?

Gaara lifted his gaze at last. “Kankuro has questioned my methods, but this is what I’m comfortable doing.”

“Did they — did they say anything else?”

“There was talk of securing important bloodlines — yours,” Gaara said. “To ensure the Sand is strengthened.” Gaara paused; he suddenly seemed so tired, like an article of clothing excessively worn. “I have to admit: With each passing year, I become more disgusted with the council and their asinine power plays … For years, we have accused Konoha of terrorizing smaller villages, involving them in bigger wars, meanwhile we do the same in secret.”

“Such is politics,” You quipped.

Gaara was not swayed by your show of cynicism. “Despite what you told me before, about you coming here willingly …” He grimaced. “I’m sorry you have been involved in all of this.”

You were silent, too stunned to reply. When all had been said and done, no one had asked you about how you felt to be shipped off to another village. You did what was expected of you. Why did he, of all people, care so much for your well-being?

He is your fiancée, is he not?

Gaara tried for a reassuring smile. “Enough about this. Tell me about your village, your family.”

Chills ran over your skin despite the heat of the day. You? What could you say? What could you safely share that wouldn’t incriminate you? You considered speaking about Hideo, but would you be able to keep your cool? And nevermind your mission — you were a sheltered daughter of a village head. You had no stories, nothing worth sharing.

You gripped the side of your glass, hyper-aware of Gaara’s expectant stare. “I’m afraid I can only tell you stories about other people I’ve known. Your love for your uncle has reminded me a bit of my love for my maid, Hahaoya.”

“Your maid?” Gaara parroted.

“I don’t mean it like that,” You implored. “She was like a mother to me. She was all I had after my mother had died. After we buried my mother, I had nightmare after nightmare. Her death destroyed my father. He said he had no sympathy for me … He said I should get used to having nightmares, to living without her. He would have to. So would I.” You pinched the tablecloth. “But Hahaoya was always there; she would sneak into my bedroom once everyone else had fallen asleep to sing me songs and tell me stories. She was my everything.”

Gaara stared. “… Was?”

Misery creased your face; you did nothing to conceal it. “Was. One day, she was serving me soup, and I got so sick off of it. It was a few weeks after my mother had died and I wasn’t eating regularly, so I’m sure I was only having trouble digesting it. But my father threw a fit, ranting and raving about how Hahaoya had sided with ‘the’ enemy and had tried to kill me. He had her banished from our village and when I confronted him about it, he said she’s lucky he didn’t have her killed.”

Your trained eyes on the table, now too afraid to look up at Gaara. You had said too much; you were sure, but you hadn’t been able to help it. Reliving the memory, you remembered how upset you were with your father when it happened. Hahaoya, your only source of peace in those times … Your brother had been there, too, but as a fully fledged ninja with missions stacked atop each other, not as much as he may have wanted.

Then he died, and you were left truly alone with your crazy father …

Gaara’s hand squeezing yours bore you away from your thoughts. You looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Gaara’s face brightened. “Perhaps, when we’re married, we can find her for you.”

You froze. “Rea — Really?”

“Yes.” Gaara cupped your hand with two hands now. “I can dispatch a team to go looking for her.”

Your lips parted in awe. “Gaara …”

Gaara studied you, and for a second it looked like he would inquire further into your past —

“Here you are!”

A waiter came bearing plates.

You withdrew from Gaara’s touch as the waiter presented dishes.

“Tell me if you need anything else, all right?”

“Okay …” You replied weakly.

The waiter left you two to eat.

“Once you’re full, there’s something else I’d like to share with you,” Gaara said.

You gave him an are you kidding expression. “No more fireworks, Gaara.”

“No.” Gaara leaned from the shade and sunlight brightened his eyes. “Something I’ve been hoping to share with you since you came. Something very precious to me.”

“Kankuro — oh, for gods’ sake — wake UP!”

Kankuro shot from the desk, a sheet stuck to his face.

“Jeez!” Temari cried. “Gaara never fell asleep at his work!”

“Doubt it.” Kankuro plucked the paper from his cheek, now smeared in purple paint. “’Tis the kind of work that could even put an insomniac to sleep. I — wait, whose drool is this … Oh, it’s mine —“

“I’ve had just enough of your lack of concern. You have no sense of urgency for anything!” Temari said. “Show some initiative for once, would you?”

“Fine!” Kankuro snapped. “From now on, it’s your job to get close to (Y/n) and see if she can tell us anything about the oasis. Happy? How’s that for initiative?”

Temari blinked. “That’s … that’s a brilliant idea!”

“Happy to hear it.” Kankuro plopped into his seat.

“In fact …” Temari continued, thumbing her chin. “I know just the thing! A girl’s day out! She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll have it all planned out. I’ll have us go …”

Kankuro zoned out, happy to know Temari was now distracted enough leaving the office, allowing him to go back to sleep.

Gaara’s greenhouse burst with green, plants sprouting from every corner and orifice. A mahogany desk and chair sat in one aisle where you assumed he did his work cultivating. Butterflies fluttered past while ladybugs crawled across the face of leaves. You giggled as butterflies neared, curious about the flower placed in your hair.

“It’s beautiful, Gaara!” You cried out.

“Thank you,” he said from behind you. “We have another greenhouse where we grow plants to counteract poisons and other undesirable things,”

You admired a succulent on his table to deter your nerves. “Really?”

“Yes,” Gaara said. “I prefer only to grow harmless things here.”

You heard him take a step and chose to change the subject. “Where’s the cactus I gave you? Oh, I remember, in the office!”

Gaara came to your side. “I enjoyed it so much I wanted it somewhere I would be sure to admire it every day.”

Baki swatted a butterfly away. “Cacti have been Lord Kazekage’s main hobbyhorse for a while now.”

You inspected the cactus he had propitiated. Verdant green cacti complimented the desk, lined up perfectly. “You’re so good with them. I can’t grow anything!”

“I’m only a beginner,” Gaara said. “I’ve read books on different plants from around the world. I’m not even aware of all the cacti yet …”

You chuckled. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“One day, I’d like to know about every cactus,” Gaara said earnestly.

An image of a wizened Gaara, surrounded by a museum of cacti, flared in your mind. You giggled.

“I don’t know much about them,” You said, grazing the petal of a succulent, “but maybe there are specimens which grow back home I can have sent to you!”

Gaara’s eyes brightened. “You would do that?”

“Why not!” You smiled at him. “Why cactus, though? Is it because they’re easy to find in the desert?”

Gaara’s eyes followed the fingers you had ghosting the succulent petals. “I thought it a nice change. To grow and allow things to prosper, as opposed to destroy, was humbling for me. It is very soothing. Though not much grows in the desert … I came to love planting and watering things.”

“Apologies to the earth,” You remarked.

Gaara considered you. “Apologies to the … earth. I like that.”

Baki caught your eye; he was considering you as if you had materialized anew.

“It’s a beautiful hobby you have,” You said. And adding, due to your respect for him, “Lord Kazekage.”

He blushed, shied into a collection of leaves.

He’s so cute — he really is handsome.

A half an hour passed as Gaara showed you more of his plants — prickly pear (turned out this was the class of cacti you had gifted him), golden barrels, barbary figs, the darling peyotes reminding you of dumplings. He set you in his working chair and let you review the spreadsheets he kept to remember which plants needed watering and when (cacti were not desperate for water, so the schedules were spaced out through a period of days and weeks) as well as the books he read for research.

“(Y/n) …?” Gaara’s voice was tentative behind you as you inspected an index.

You lowered the book. You knew what he would ask. “Yes?”

“You mentioned a brother,” he said cautiously. “A brother who died.”

You smiled in defeat. Did you think you could avoid the topic forever? How stupid.

“If you don’t want to talk —“

“No.” You turned to Gaara. “It’s okay. I can talk about it …”

Concern creased Gaara’s face, looking ready to accommodate your comfort. In your periphery, Baki’s face echoed the sentiment.

You toyed with the corner of a page. “He was older than me, and a great shinobi …” Hideo’s smile came to life in your mind’s eye, behind your eyes as you closed them. “My father’s favorite, obviously. But that was all right; Hideo always said I was his favorite.”

You fought to maintain your composure; Gaara would come to your side if you curled over in pain.

“There was a mission — it was meant to be incredibly dangerous. I don’t know the details. I was never told …” Your hand abandoned the page to fold in your lap with the other. “Even my father wasn’t sure if he should go, but eventually let him. Hideo insisted. He wasn’t afraid — he wasn’t afraid of anything …”

You shoved a tear away from your cheek. The skin reddened and ached there.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” You said. “He never came home. There was — there was nothing to bring back —“ Your voice clipped and broke.

“Enough,” Gaara muttered, a hand slipping to your shoulder. “It’s all right. You don’t have to go on.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was wet. You sniffed. “I’m okay, really.”

Gaara’s gentle touches helped you to put your emotions back where they belonged.

“Your brother sounds like he was a great man,” Gaara said. “We are lesser for having lost him.”

Your feelings gnawed and clawed for the surface. Did I forget to tell you my father thinks you killed him? And the only reason I’m here is to —?

You banished the thoughts with a jerk of your head.

“He was,” You said. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence, clogged with pain, followed.

“It’s getting late,” Baki remarked after a few seconds, studying the sky.

You followed his gaze. He wasn’t wrong; the heavens burned a deep orange, the blue of the sky retreating to darken into a near-black. You were no fool; Baki was saving the two of you from the suffocating silence. You caught his glance toward you before he quickly looked away.

Correction: Saving you especially.

“He’s right.” Gaara’s hand lingered at your shoulder before withdrawing. “We should be heading back for dinner. The others will be expecting us.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You managed a laugh. “I’m sor —“

“Don’t ever apologize for having feelings,” Gaara interrupted, eyes soft on you.

You smiled as Baki opened the door to the greenhouse. Whether it was from the new source of air, or Gaara’s warmth, or both, the place was easier to breathe in.

At the threshold, Gaara looked over his shoulder at you. “(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You said you were a fan of the Icha Icha series,” Gaara replied, oblivious to Baki stiffening in front of him. “Would you mind explaining the books to me?”

Baki blanched with horror.

You fought a giggle. “I’d be delighted!”

“Well,” Kankuro’s voice piqued with interest, “it seems you two had a fun and eventful evening!”

“Yes …!” Gaara said. “First we …”

You let him summarize the day. You were content to be off your feet; the walking had murdered your feet, and they screamed in salvation as you sat at dinner. Later, you hoped to run a bath so you could soak before bed.

You wondered how long it would take for your father to reply. Hopefully soon, because … you were losing your resolve. You were never alone with Gaara, nor did you share his bed. How were you meant to do this? You knew Father would either tell you something to push you over the edge and solidify your resolve or the whole thing would be called off. Secretly, you hoped for the latter. You had never been allowed to date before, and if this is what it was like for everyone, you understood why people raved about it so much.

You hoped nothing would be waiting for you tonight; you were tired.

“That’s all wonderful,” Temari said hastily. “Wonderful, wonderful. (Y/n), how would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow?”

The boys lowered their forks to stare, Kankuro looking more in the know than Gaara.

“I’d be delighted, future sister-in-law!”

Temari giggled, waving you off. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Gaara said, turning to Kankuro. “And what about you? How was your first day as Kazekage?”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Kankuro leaned back and rubbed a balled fist in his eyes. “Thought the day was never gonna end.”

“It is grueling work,” Gaara said. “But it’s necessary work in order for the village to run smoothly.”

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to do it,” Kankuro peeked at you. “You — you better give him lots and lots of kids.”

“Kankuro!” Temari cried.

You went red. You had never even thought of having children with Gaara. You looked his way briefly before lowering your gaze to your meal.

“Speaking of which.” Gaara cleared his throat. “(Y/n) has been helping me understand Icha a lot more —“

Temari spit out her water.

“I still have questions about —“

“Mm, Gaara!” You interrupted with a hand on his. “Maybe not at the dinner table, okay?”

“Oh,” Gaara said innocently. “All right.”

Four days later. No letter came for you.

It was the morning after last and every moment you spent holed up in your room was murder; you lay in wake for a hawk to come and throw a curve in your world.

Temari hadn’t taken you out yet, too tired after the dinner the night before last; the four of you had stayed up playing shogi, and she had been so excited about winning nearly every match she forgot about a curfew and fell asleep at the last moment, drooling over the carpet while the rest of you enjoyed yourselves.

So, mostly, you stayed away from your room and spent time with Gaara and his siblings.

You liked them. You really, really liked them.

You frequently lost yourself in the beautiful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes, and when that wasn’t happening, Temari and Kankuro were pampering you or making you laugh, as much your siblings as Gaara’s, and when that wasn’t happening, Baki was treating you like a daughter, knocking on your door to ask you if you needed water or an extra blanket or helping you navigate your way through the palace or to the office. It all left you wondering if Father wasn’t … him. If this is what it was like to have a normal, sane man protecting you.

Friendship was alien to you. But this was even worse: this was a family. Despite their relation to the Kazekage and the responsibilities befalling them, they were a normal, loving family.

Still, you waited with chattering teeth and moist palms for the hawk you were beginning to hope would never come.

“What do you actually plan on doing with (Y/n)?” Kankuro asked, leaning against the door frame of her old bedroom.

“Shopping, of course,” Temari answered absentmindedly, making her bed.

“You don’t even like clothes,” Kankuro noted. “Come to think of it, I’ve never even seen you shop.”

“No, I don’t, but I suspect (Y/n) does,” Temari said. “She’s always wearing the loveliest yukatas around the place. Have you noticed? And anyway, it doesn’t matter; this gives me the perfect time to get her to let her guard down and let something slip.”

Kankuro sighed. “We’re still on that, huh …? Just forget about the oasis, okay? Don’t mention it to her. I’ve had no luck at the library.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Temari said. “I’m sure I can get her to spill something about Lord Boutoku’s plans —“

“What’s this?” Baki said at the door.

Kankuro jumped from the door frame. “Oh, h — hey, Baki, We were just —“

“What are you two up to?” Baki frowned. “This better not have anything to do with (Y/n). Just what’re you planning?”

“Nothing!” they said in unison.

Baki paused to pinch the space between his eyes. “Fine, I relent. Kankuro, you’re needed in the office.”

“What’s happening?” Kankuro asked gravely.

“It seems there was an egregious error in one of the documents you signed a day ago,” Baki explained droningly. “You promised those contractors two-thousand yen, not two-hundred-thousand yen. Now, they think they’ve struck gold and have taken to the streets —“

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Temari threw her cover to the side. “This is exactly why you should’ve chosen me as sub-Kazekage or appointed yourself! I can’t believe this! Now, I’ve got to go talk to them and explain all this and —“ She pointed to Kankuro as she walked to the door, “ — fix your mistake! I can’t believe —!”

Temari sprinted out the door, lecturing absolutely no one, leaving Kankuro and Baki alone.

“This is why I’ll never get married,” Kankuro said. “Shikamaru’s really a man to be envied.”

And he abandoned the room as well.

“I think I need to up my migraine medication …” Baki spoke under his breath before following them.

Temari was late. You slipped into your sandals —

Squawk.

You froze.

You faced the window: a hawk, a curled letter attached to its leg.

You raced to the window. You untied the letter with trembling fingers. The hawk, unperturbed by your panic, flew away.

You sank against your windowsill. The letter unfurled. You began reading.

You SELFISH girl!

What have I done to vex the gods so that I was cursed with you? That beast masquerading as your betrothed is an absolute MENACE who has killed hundreds of people from our village and beyond. Perhaps I was wrong to trust you — how could you ever understand the complexities of this situation. If you have a shred of dignity left, you will commit yourself to silence and do what you’re told for once! The demise of the Kazekage will lead to the prosperity of our village and others for decades, possibly even centuries, to come! Are you in such desperate need of a reminder? I have entrusted our ninja to protect you and wait until you complete your mission, which you WILL do. After which they will go to work wiping out the Suna council and his disgusting siblings AFTER you are done with the job of killing him, which you WIL do . What is wrong with you? You would ally with the people who killed your brother in cold blood, simply because they smiled at you and gave you a place to sleep? What kind of street rat are you? Are you not my daughter? Well, since you need so much convincing to resist the temptation of allying with the people who have MURDERED members of your family, let alone your precious elder brother — who was the second to hold you after your disgraceful birth — let me enlighten you on how your brother died —

“(Y/n)?” Temari’s voice came down the hallway.

Quickly, you hid the letter under your pillow. You slapped a false smile on, given no time to process the ire of the letter as Temari appeared.

“Hey,” she said, all smiles. “Are you ready? Let’s get a move on!”

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking from your father’s lashing. “Let’s.”

The shopping centers were bustling. Temari had clearly taken you to one of the more expensive areas of the village; it was not like when Gaara had taken you out; no one stopped to say hello or noticed Lady Temari or you out and about, so transfixed the shoppers were with their vibrant kimonos and embroidered cloths, their jewels and sparkling jades.

The excitement dizzied you. “You didn’t have to take me somewhere so decadent, Temari …” You muttered, looking around at the ornate sand buildings. Their signs would blare to life with neon colors come nightfall.

“Nonsense!” Temari nuzzled closer to you. “Only the best for my future sister-in-law!”

You nodded furiously out of fear of seeming ungrateful. The letter numbed her flattering sentiment. You walked with legs made of cotton, immaterial and ready to buckle any moment. You fought to get a hold of yourself. You had been sure Father would come through the letter to strangle you; his fury had messied his handwriting. If he was that mad in the letter, what was it like to behold him in real life …?

Will do. What would happen if you didn’t do as he said?

What would happen to you?

… Would he … kill you? Could he?

No … no, he couldn’t —

“Something seems to be on your mind,” Temari said, studying you.

Fear shrank you. You faced her. His disgusting siblings. “Just a little — uh — overwhelmed, is all.”

Temari chuckled. “I understand. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty to show off?”

A woman walked past with a layer of fabric slung over her arm.

Temari watched her walk away. “It’s funny … My father, the Fourth Kazekage, was so resentful of the Oasis village he had any and all items branded with scorpions banned.”

You swung your head, taken aback by the vitriol of the past. “What?”

Temari resumed walking. You tailed behind her. “He told me he came to despise the symbol of the scorpion so much he couldn’t bear the idea of people in his village donning it. It couldn’t be on bags or purses, or shirts or even rings. I didn’t totally believe him at the time and went looking — It’s in the records. Can you believe it?”

You suspected you were not being called to answer. Your mouth bobbed.

“I …”

“It was such a dark time.”

You aligned your steps with hers. Temari was taller than you and, judging from the look of her arms and legs, stronger. Her blouse exposed her back and you could detect the lean muscles molded there. You hid behind her, hoping, in your panicked state, she would protect you from …

She glanced over her shoulder at you. “I’m sure your father is still angry about the way the Sand has treated him, despite this arrangement.”

A bitter laugh quivered from your mouth. “He’s always angry.”

“I bet.” Temari spotted a store and beelined toward it. “Let’s go in there! It’s one of my favorites.”

You obediently followed.

Temari stopped abruptly, facing you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you … What even made Lord Boutoku set this up between you and my brother? After all, there were other villages in the Wind country he could have chosen.”

You paused. You met her eye. She’s grilling me.

Father’s voice thundered in your head: I trained you for this, do NOT ruin the plan, selfish girl …

A group of teenage girls brushed past to enter the store. Temari was not deterred.

You straightened and forced your voice airy and polite. “The truth is, the Oasis is willing to share their secrets if it means they and the Sand can be allies.”

Temari was silent. Clearly, you had thrown her.

“But,” You continued, “while we’re on the subject, why did the Sand agree at all? I’m not a ninja after all, so I’m not privy to any hidden techniques or anything the Sand may want. The Sand could have had us offer anything else. It didn’t have to be my hand.”

Silence. Temari stared —

The door flung open.

“Can it be?” A woman stood at the door with huge white hair and pink cheeks. “Lady Temari! What a blessing to have you come to my store!”

Temari blinked. “I —“

“Come in, come in!”

She ushered the two of you inside. Several girls lingered behind the counter with the same rosy cheeks as her.

“Ohhh!” The shopkeeper leaned uncomfortably close to your face. “And who is this?”

“That’s Lady (Y/n), mama!” One of the girls behind the counter said, holding her face. “The Kazekage’s fiancée!”

Galaxies erupted in the shopkeeper’s eyes. “OHH! What a blessing! What a blessing!”

“We — “ Temari struggled. “We were just looking —“

“Well then, I must show you my most prized section,” the shopkeeper said. “Only the finest apparel for the Kazekage’s family.”

She forced the two of you into a section separate from the front of the store. The shopkeeper thrust you into a private mall with floors and stairs to higher ones. Racks upon racks of clothes filled your eyes, along with the most divinely embroidered fabrics for crafting kimonos. Two other women there with you, apparently high class enough to be bestowed the same honor, but were too engrossed in their potential purchases to notice your appearances.

“Really, ma’am!” Temari pressed. “We’re — really not looking to —“

“Oh, don’t be modest, my lady!” said the shopkeeper. “Spend as much time as you want looking! Oh! And don’t be afraid to call me!”

She waved and shut the door, leaving the two of you in the museum of outfits.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind buying a few outfits since we’re out,” You told Temari. “If you don’t mind?”

Temari blinked, defeated. “Not … Not at all …”

You investigated the nearest racks while she got her bearings.

After a few minutes, she started again. “So, I was right to take you shopping?”

“Oh, yes.” You surveyed the racks. “Clothes … they’re really the only way I’ve ever been able to express myself as the daughter of a village head.”

“I can imagine it’s been very stifling for you.”

“Mhm …” You feigned interest in a glittering dress. Temari’s attention spidered up your back and you braced yourself for another set of incoming questions.

“You know,” she began. “Gaara’s kept his promise to your village; the first set of resources has been sent out already.”

You turned to her with a grateful smile. “Really? That’s fantastic news!”

“It is …” Temari leaned against a rack. “But I wonder … if your village is willing to spill its precious secrets, they must expect something truly invaluable in return.”

You knelt down to admire some shoes.

“The basics — water, weapons — that’s all fine, but … Your oasis is sacred, isn’t it?”

“The friendship of a previous enemy is plenty valuable.” You looked at her over your shoulder. “Don’t you think so? You were there for Gaara’s speech. He has such a way with words …”

“He does,” Temari said. “He’s done so much reading the past few years, absorbs words like a sponge. I’m proud of him. We all are.”

“I can imagine.”

“When he fainted on stage, I could’ve sworn you must’ve slipped something into his drink!”

Your heart drummed, but you willed your body still.

“Isn’t that funny?”

You rose with your most charming smile. “It’s hilarious! I can’t imagine what would make you think such a thing.”

Temari stared. Clearly, she was studying your face. The two women in the room exited, leaving you at Temari’s mercy. You collected some dresses, hoping your trembling arms would go unnoticed.

“Oh.” Temari bobbed her head. “I just remembered … Our fathers have only met once, I think.”

“Oh?” You passed her with a few dresses hung over your arm. You were sure of her eyes following you. You climbed the steps. Temari stalked behind you.

“Yes,” Temari said. “I must have been about ten when that meeting took place. If I remember correctly, there wasn’t much rapport after our father was confirmed dead.”

There’s no reason for the Oasis and Sand to become allies — unless one had ulterior motives …

You nodded, crossing into a new aisle. “Orochi … maru, was it? Horrible creature. I apologize on behalf of my father; he can be so classless sometimes. But …” You faced a new rack as Temari sharked toward you. “But … I imagine Konoha wasn’t shedding too many tears over the Fourth’s death, either. I think they should apologize for their silence as well. If they haven’t already. Don’t you?”

You shifted clothes on the rack — Temari’s hand blocked the hangers transferring.

“The Oasis would have much to gain from Gaara being removed. Or otherwise disposed of.”

You froze.

Shit.

You thanked whatever god you had to you were not facing her at that moment, for you were sure you would have blown it.

Think. Think. Have to throw her off.

You wracked your brain, thinking of what you knew about Temari so far.

You faced her after a beat. “Not at all.”

Temari stuttered. “What?”

“If Suna were to fall for whatever reason, it would throw the entire Wind country in disarray!” You said, as though the idea were ridiculous. “Suna is the seat of power on this side of the world. We would all suffer from it. The world of politics is so messy and pedantic as it is without bringing murder into the mix.”

It frightened you how true your words rang. The image of Father loomed in your mind, eager to deliver disapproval.

Authenticity proved your savior; Temari seemed to consider your words, leaving an opportunity open.

“Temari,” You began, feigning bashfulness. “I’ve been meaning to ask … what’s it like to be in love?”

“What?” Her face grew red, throwing hands in front of her face.

You toyed with the hem of one shirt. “I only wondered … I know I’ve only known Gaara for a few days, but I’ve grown to like him so much.”

None of it was a lie. You were growing to like Gaara a lot, a dangerous amount. You only knew romance from books, and a part of you did wonder if this fluttering in your chest was …

Temari recovered inchmeal to answer you. “It feels … good. To have someone understand you on that level.”

You smiled. “It must …!”

“I never thought I’d ever find someone I loved as much as my brothers,” Temari said, facing you again. “It would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.”

Oh no. You kept the guilt from your face.

“If anyone threatened them in any way,” she said, voice low, “I’d tear them apart.”

You would drown in the dark of her eyes. You stood, rooted beside her, silent.

She meant it. Temari crowded her brothers under her wings. If she discovered you, you would be torn apart and by her personally. There would be no excuse, no sob story you could bestow on her to make her reconsider. She would kill you.

But, if you failed, would Father?

Who were you more afraid of?

You swallowed —

The door burst open.

“How’s everything going?” the shopkeeper said. Her daughters’ heads peeked from behind. She spotted where you two stood on the second floor. “Hm? Finding everything okay?”

“Lady (Y/n), what’s the Kazekage like in private?”

“Is he charming? Oh, I bet!”

“Girls!” the shopkeeper barked.

Temari sighed before turning to you. “I’ll pay for everything. Let’s just go.”

Yes, please!

As though the past few moments hadn’t happened, Temari led you out of the section and to the cash register to pay.

It was strange for Gaara to watch someone else do his work. Kankuro sat on the other side of the Kazekage’s desk, his lips as he stamped another document and shuffled it into the done pile.

Anxiety gnawed at him; he of all people knew Temari could be … daunting.

“You don’t think Temari is scaring (Y/n) too much, do you?” Gaara asked.

“Yep,” Kankuro said, stamping another. “She’ll be calling this whole thing off and heading back to the Oasis tonight. Let’s not forget what she did to Tenten — and she wasn’t even trying to marry you or anything.”

Gaara imagined your back broken over the tip of Temari’s folding fan, lifeless and bleeding. He didn’t like the image at all and shook his head blank.

“Kankuro?”

“Hm?”

“What do men … do with women?” Gaara asked, hands in his lap. “I want to be a good host to (Y/n), but I’ve never done this before. I’m running out of ideas.”

Kankuro snorted. “What? Icha Icha didn’t give you any ideas?”

“It definitely plugged up some holes.” Gaara heard his brother snickering but, unable to understand why, returned to thinking. “But there’s much that seems so complicated. How do you date a girl …? And why would a mother pursue her son-in-law?”

Kankuro nearly fell over. “She … she really did explain those books to you, didn’t she?”

Gaara looked to his brother for help.

Kankuro sighed. “All right, well, you’re doing fine as it is, Gaara. Girls like being wined and dined, and they like surprises and gifts. You know, fun things.”

“Fun things …”

“Just take some time to brainstorm,” Kankuro said. “You can bounce some ideas off of me. I’m …” He looked up at his stack of paperwork. “I’m not going anywhere …”

Gaara thought to himself. He and you were both people of the desert. Surely there were more things you could share with one another?

What could he do … What —

It came to him.

“Kankuro, I think I have an idea!”

Pride shone in Kankuro’s eyes. “I’m all ears.”

For the rest of the evening, Temari was noticeably defanged. You had passed whatever test Temari had put you through. Now the two of you were finally having a normal day out.

You wanted to be proud of yourself, but you didn’t know how to be, or if you were allowed. For what? Your assassination plot having not been found out?

“I’ll order us lunch,” Temari said as she placed the menu on the table.

“Thank you.”

“I was thinking about what you said,” Temari said.

You grew nervous, fidgeted in your seat. “Hm?”

“About being in love,” Temari clarified. “I’ve spent time with my fiancée’s family — the Naras — and it was nice. Being around an ordinary family. As opposed to what our families are like, you know?”

You blinked. From your perspective, the Sand siblings were an ordinary family.

“I — Yes, I get you.”

Temari laughed to herself. “It’s rough being the only girl, isn’t it? All the bullshit we have to take from the men. The constant threat of political marriages.”

You perked. This you could understand. “And you’re the oldest, aren’t you?”

“Ugh!” Temari flew back in her chair. “Don’t remind me. You know, my father tried to marry me off once?”

“No.”

“Yes!” Temari leaned in, excited. She twirled a finger to jog her memory. “Some boy from the Land of Rivers — don’t even remember his name.”

“What happened to him?”

“He said something about my ass and I nearly broke his neck.”

The two of you exploded into giggles. You adjusted one of the shopping bags at your feet so as to not knock it over.

“Not for lack of trying. Suffice to say, that ended things and he went home,” Temari said.

You wiped a tear from your eye. “I can imagine!”

“So, Lord Boutoku really lets you read Icha Icha?” Temari said, disbelieving.

“He insists,” You pressed. “He thinks it’s the only thing ladies should read so they know how to please men.”

Temari shook her head. “No offense, but I’m liking the man less and less.”

“None taken. But I started liking them quite a lot on my own.”

Food came at last, a myriad of different dishes — miso soup, fish, steaming rice — and the two of you dove in.

You sipped your jasmine tea to wash your throat. “Mmm …”

“Good?”

“So good.” You inhaled the steam warming your nose.

“So,” Temari began. “You really like Gaara, don’t you?”

You set your tea down. “I do. He’s … nothing I expected.”

“Has he … told you anything?”

You caught her meaning. “He’s told me he’s had a difficult past.”

“Ah.” Temari preoccupied herself with the removal of onions from her salad. “So … no details, then?”

You paused. “No.”

You remembered your father’s letter and how you hadn’t had the chance to finish it. His words rang in your head still, and you hadn’t even endured the full torrent of his ire. Chills snaked over your skin despite the heat of the tea trickling down your throat. Temari sobered up as she minded her meal. You frowned.

“Temari?”

She looked up. “Oh, Nevermind me! We should keep things light!”

“Yes.” Relief replaced the chills. “Let’s.”

“I’ll tell you about the time Shikamaru’s father walked in on my changing and swallowed one of his cigarettes.”

“Oh, gods,” You leaned in. “Shoot.”

Dusk overran evening once the two of you returned to the Suna palace, barring shopping bags and giggling over anecdotes. Gaara and Kankuro loitered around the entrance.

They must have been waiting for us. So cute!

Gaara scanned the myriad of bags with a smile. “You must have had a good time, since it’s so late out,” he surmised.

“We did!” Temari chirped before facing Kankuro. “Hope you didn’t pass any more asinine orders in our absence, Kankuro.”

Kankuro hmphed and crossed defiant arms. “I’ll have you know I finished all the work early today.”

“Good, so you can help us carry bags inside —“

Temari swung bags in Kankuro’s face and he yelped.

The four of you hurried into the living room. Servants relieved you of your bags and moved to leave them in your respective rooms. The four of you piled into the dining room for dinner, for it was not long before varying plates of food — fish platters, potatoes, red wine (you gulped; Gaara fidgeted), figs — were brought to the table.

“The onigiri is immaculate,” You said, admiring the cute rice pyramids. “I have to send compliments to the chef.”

Kankuro shot Temari a look you couldn’t interpret. You returned to your meal.

Kankuro nudged Gaara’s arm with a mouthful of biscuit. “Gaara, don’t you have something to tell (Y/n)?”

“Yes, about that …” Gaara turned to you proudly.

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Temari said. “Spill it!”

“I’ve prepared some things so all of us can take a vacation to the beach.”

You shot up from your chair. “The beach?”

Gaara paused, clearly startled. “Y—Yes,” he said. “Is … is that all right?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “That’s … oh my — it’s fantastic! I’ve never been to a beach! A beach in the desert?”

“You’d be surprised,” Kankuro said. “Weirder things are out there.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, but, Gaara.” Temari faced her brother. “What about the office?”

“Baki will take over for Kankuro for the weekend we’re gone so we can enjoy ourselves,” Gaara explained. “He offered; he thinks it’s a good idea for us to bond, as we’ll all be family soon —“

You flew over the table and enveloped Gaara in a hug.

“Oh, thank you!” You squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you —!“

Temari and Kankuro giggled while Gaara pet you on the shoulder.

“I’ve only ever read about beaches in books!” You leaned away, one arm still wrapped around Gaara’s shoulder. “I wish you had told me — I don’t even have a bathing suit!”

“That can be arranged,” Temari quipped. “Another quick shopping trip will fix that, I think.”

“It’ll be like a pre-honeymoon!” Kankuro shrugged. “But, you know, with us.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gaara said. “I want us all to enjoy ourselves as (Y/n) and I get to know each other.”

“I agree!” You said.

You smiled at him — only to realize your hug had left you situated in his lap. You leaped away.

“S — Sorry, Gaara.” You bowed, your voice a squeak. “I —“

But Gaara took your hand and kissed it lightly, causing you to blush.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Kankuro cornered Temari as she prepared for bed, organizing papers on her desk.

“So,” he said.

Temari dimmed her lamp, leaving them in semidarkness. “So what?”

“So. C’mon,” Kankuro said. “Just admit you like (Y/n).”

“All right, fine,” Temari sighed. “Despite how horrible Lord Boutoku is. She’s … nice.”

“Finally. Told you she’s not up to anything.” Kankuro tilted his head.

“Why are you grilling me, anyway?” Temari asked.

“Because I know what this is really about,” Kankuro said, leaning against the door frame as he had done before.

Temari sat on the edge of her bed, crossed her legs and arms. “Well, go ahead. Enlighten me.”

“You don’t want to let go of Gaara,” Kankuro said matter-of-factly. “He’s your little baby brother and now he’s all grown up, but you’ve mothered him for so long you can’t accept that he doesn’t need you like he used to.”

Temari rose with a scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

“And,” Kankuro continued. “I had hoped that you would realize all on your own, but alas, I have to save the day — again. Sucks being the only sane one around here.”

“That’s just silly!”

“And,” Kankuro went on, “Now, I’m gonna have to call Shikamaru to come get you because —“

Temari held an arm akimbo. “How dare you insinuate I need a man to reign me in —”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Baki entered the room. “What is it now?”

Kankuro and Temari rounded on each other.

“Temari’s being silly —“

“Kankuro’s the silly one!” Temari bit back. “With all his crazy Kazekage orders and —“

“Okay. Enough.” Baki said. “The two of you have done nothing but bicker and fight over Lord Kazekage’s happiness from the moment Lady (Y/n) arrived.”

“That’s …” Temari deflated. “That’s not …”

“The two of you will stop scheming — both of you.” Baki narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care who started what. Kankuro, stop antagonizing your sister. And Temari, let your brothers breathe for once? You’re both too old for this. If you love your brother as much as you say you do, you will band together to help ensure this arrangement goes well, and he has fewer enemies to worry about in the future. Understand?”

Kankuro and Temari faced each other.

“I’m … sorry,” Temari relented.

“So am I,” Kankuro said.

Baki sighed. “Good, that’s a start. Now, get some rest. We have to begin planning your trip in the morning.”

Baki gave them a lingering stare before leaving the room.

Temari retook her seat on the bed. “Gaara … does seem very happy. With her. So far.” She lowered her head, as though considering other things coming to mind. “And I guess it is really something to be set up to marry someone you could actually grow to love.”

Kankuro nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t happen every day, does it?”

Temari shook her head. “No …” She lent Kankuro her hand. “Truce?”

Kankuro smiled, approached her, and shook her hand. “Truce.”

Your head had snuggled against the pillow when you realized —

The letter.

You rivaled the part of yourself desiring to drift off to sleep and forget the entire wretched correspondence. But you knew you couldn’t, not with the way your chest grew to ache with anxiety, come to reunite with you like an old friend. You hooked a hand under the pillow. Paper crinkled under your palm. You pulled it out and sat up.

With dread cemented in your chest, you continued to read:

That boy is a scourge upon the earth who killed his mother to come into this world. My precious Hideo got caught in his wretched jutsu. His Sand Burial, I’m told. The damage done to Hideo’s body was so egregious we could never collect his body —

You dropped the paper as though burned by it. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

It was a moment or two before you reclaimed it to continue. You read the passage several times to convince yourself the words were real. Teardrops splattered near the edge of the paper, expanding like watercolor suns. Nausea whirled your stomach, but your eyes ran over the words anyway:

You disgrace us. If you do not do this, I will personally have you put you to death once the coup begins. Do not test me again.

The letter abruptly ended, exacerbating the chill of it, the finality. You let it fall away to the side before you could add more tears to its face. Bile rose in your throat, threatening vomit, but your legs would not move; you were too weak to move them.

Hideo’s beautiful face came to your mind, his beautiful smile and eyes — only to drown in blood.

You clutched your head, sunk into your lap. Your two realities sat between you, forever at odds.

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Gaara and his siblings — they had been so nice to you. He had been so nice to you. He would never … could never be capable of such things.

Hideo kept flaring in your mind to die horrid deaths. Again and again, his mangled body reached out to you, begging for help —

“No!”

You knocked the letter over.

You refused to believe it — believe Father. Gaara would never, and even if he had — he would have told you … he would have remembered and called things off.

If he even remembered or knew Hideo’s name. If he hadn’t killed so many, your brother joined a nameless herd —

You shoved your father’s voice aside like a real thing, rejecting it.

A burst of energy had you leaving your bed, letter in hand. You started a fire in the fireplace.

Gaara had been nicer to you than anyone you had ever met. Save for Hideo, who would never stand for this, you knew. You were happier than you had ever been with him and his siblings.

Gaara was kind.

Your father had never been kind.

Corrupt, cruel, capricious. His crimes were stacked up by the dozens as you determined to recall them all. He had yelled at you, assaulted you, called you a disgrace, called you selfish. In what way were you selfish? What had he ever asked of you that you hadn’t given? I’m here because he asked!

No.

You tore the letter in two. Threes. Fours. If only you had a fire, you would thrust it in the flames and let them eat the corners away before disposing of the thing. Your father was insane, you knew. None of it could be true. Gaara was kind and gentle and — and the two of you were to be married soon. He was taking you to the beach.

I don’t believe you, Father.

You collected the letter’s pieces and went to the window, letting the pieces flee from your hands and scatter to the wind like snow. You wrestled with the necklace around your neck, its poisonous contents, and clutched a hand around its pendant.

I’ll keep it. And if Father comes, I’ll use what’s inside to protect Gaara. Or myself .

The rest of the thick of the night was spent sorting out your thoughts. You wouldn’t tell them about your father’s plot yet, and it was entirely due to your cowardice. You remembered Temari’s words and the look she’d given you. If you couldn’t convince them you were on their side, you were sure you would be jailed — or killed. Regardless of your reasons.

No, you would wait after the trip, then you would tell them. The coup could only begin once you gave the word to the other Oasis nin meant to protect you. Father couldn’t do anything until then. And, if your father chose to be impulsive and come, he wouldn’t find Gaara or his siblings here — all of you would be miles away … His plan would fail.

With your thoughts ironed out, you settled in for bed, but it would be long before sleep would claim you. Due to the horrific imagery your father had given you — and what your mind chose to torture you with.

Gaps, endless voids, sprouted in between the horror, and you let daydreams of Gaara and the beach fill those gaps.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you

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ju-vondy · 1 year ago

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Headcanon Gwyn scene

Guys, I just wrote this for the Chapter 11 in the Gwynriel fanfic I'm posting on Wattpad and I wanted to share with you all because yes, LOL.

This is the kind of building I hope Sarah does for Gwyn. Our girl has so much to grow! I hope you all enjoy. Please leave your thoughts!

WARNING: May contain anxiety triggers.

Count of words: 1.876

Some context before starting: Our beloved Valkyries accepted Rhysand's proposal to form a legion of female warriors (the Reborn Valkyries) and now Gwyn is about to embark on a mission with Azriel. The day is coming, a lot has been happening and, well... Let's see what happens?

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The torches cast faint light across the library, creating dancing shadows on the walls as Gwyn leaned over the ancient manuscripts. The room was silent, except for the soft rustle of parchment pages as Gwyn turned them, struggling to keep her eyes open.

Her eyes burned with exhaustion, but she refused to succumb to sleep. There was an important and lengthy translation to complete before the mission and she couldn't afford to leave anything unfinished. Several days had passed since the conversation where Azriel had suggested Gwyn stop serving as a priestess, and... She was trying to ignore that advice with all her might.

Only a week and a half remained before they departed. But as exhausting as the routine had been, she owed everything to those females, didn’t she? Even though Merrill was a bossy and authoritarian figure, Gwyn had grown so fond of her colleagues and... And singing! Singing during the services made her feel like she was floating, like she belonged to something.

Stopping her work as a priestess would surely erase a part of herself that Gwyn was not willing to let go of.

The Valkyrie yawned again. The fatigue finally caught up with her, enveloping her like a heavy blanket. Her eyes began to blink slowly, giving in to the irresistible desire to close. Then, without realizing it, Gwyn fell asleep, her head resting on the ancient scrolls.

It was Merrill's sharp voice that woke her abruptly.

Gwyn blinked, confused and dazed, as Merrill stared at her with an expression of disapproval and fury.

"What do you think you're doing, Gwyneth?" Merrill growled, her words as sharp as knives. "Sleeping in the library, as if there wasn't important work to be delivered before the journey? You have a responsibility here, and you chose to sleep instead of working?"

Gwyn tried to compose herself, shame burning in her cheeks as she quickly stood up.

"I'm sorry, Merrill, I... I didn't realize I had fallen asleep. I was just trying to finish the translation before Silphie officially takes over my duties..."

Merrill interrupted her with a brusque gesture of her hand.

"Apologies won't fix this, Gwyneth. You're here to serve as a priestess, not as an exhausted soldier who can't fulfill her responsibilities."

"The High Lord said I could..."

"I don't care what the High Lord said," Merrill crossed her arms. "He'll certainly change his mind after I have a word with him. You need to choose: do you want to be a warrior or a priestess? Because clearly you can't handle being both."

Merrill's words hit Gwyn like a blow, leaving her stunned and hurt. She couldn't find a response, her thoughts muddled and foggy with fatigue.

"Are you listening to me, Gwyneth?"

The Valkyrie growled, frustrated. How long would Merrill continue to treat her this way? A fire began to spread inside her body as she closed her notebook, the books and started to organize the manuscripta.

Enough.

She had enough.

"If you don't like my work, why didn't you dismiss my services as soon as I started training?" Gwyn exhaled, standing up. "You still haven't found anyone to replace me, have you? No one likes working for you." The Valkyrie crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes and finally letting the anger inside her overflow as she said something that had been stuck in her throat for a long time: "Because you're a demanding and authoritarian bitch."

Gwyn blinked, barely recognizing her voice as she said that ugly word. Merrill's expression twisted into a mask of rage, her eyes sparking with indignation as she stared at Gwyn.

"How dare you disrespect this sacred place with your temper?" Merrill shouted, her voice echoing through the library corridors. "Aren't you ashamed of insulting your superior like this? You aren't worthy of wearing the protective stone like all the others!"

Merrill's cutting words pierced Gwyn's heart with sharp pain. She quickly regretted thinking she could stand up to Merrill. Gwyn struggled to hold back the tears threatening to overflow from her eyes, her jaw clenched tightly as she fought against the wave of emotions consuming her body.

The few priestesses still circulating through the library watched the scene with shock and disbelief, some murmuring among themselves in tones of disapproval. Gwyn felt the weight of their gazes on her, the weight of judgment and condemnation. Her anger began to transform into a burning flame within her chest.

She lifted her chin, determined not to show weakness before Merrill and the other priestesses. She wasn't unworthy, no matter what they said. She was strong, determined, and capable. She was the rock against which the shadows break. And she would not let Merrill's cruel words bring her down.

With her jaw still tense, Gwyn swallowed hard, gathering all her courage to say: "I am no less worthy than any other priestess in this library," her voice trembled slightly, but she made sure to keep it firm and determined. "I strive every day to honor our duties and our faith."

Merrill snorted disdainfully.

"You can try to fool yourself while you play soldier, Gwyneth. But I know the truth:" Merrill pointed a finger in the redhead's face. "You are a disgrace to our order, and your presence here only brings dishonor to our sacred duties."

With one last disdainful look, Merrill turned and left the library, leaving Gwyn alone with her turbulent emotions. The anger boiled inside her, a burning flame that threatened to consume her entirely. What had started as a fire had become a dangerous explosion.

She was a Valkyrie, a fearless and courageous warrior. Nothing Merrill said was true. She was worthy, just like all the others. Wasn’t she? She was not a disgrace. Or was she?

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes..." Gwyn said as she adjusted her hood to leave the library, trying to silence the noise in her head and not let those thoughts defeat her. "Nothing can break me."

Nothing can break me, she repeated in her mind as she climbed the stairs to go to the House.

Gwyn felt an overwhelming mix of emotions inside her, a burning energy that drove her to act. She knew she needed a way to release all that accumulated tension, so she decided to go to the training ring, even though it was cold and dark outside.

It was the middle of the night, but she didn't care at all.

Entering the spacious and airy ring, Gwyn saw the punching bag hanging in the center. Without hesitation she threw off her priestess cloak, not even bothering to wrap her fingers, and advanced towards the object — her fists clenched and her eyes sparking with determination.

Starting to deliver several blows in the punching bag, Gwyn let the pain take over as she said through gritted teeth:

"Nothing." A right punch. "Can..." another, from the left. "Break." and then a solid kick. "Me." a hook followed by a determined growl.

Gradually, the frustration began to dissipate slowly, replaced by a sense of relief. Still, Gwyn continued to punch with will: each impact causing a release of all the weight and pain she carried in her heart.

As the minutes passed and the intensity of her blows increased, Gwyn barely noticed she was overdoing it. Her fingers began to throb with pain, but she ignored the sensation completely. She was so immersed in her own anguish that she barely noticed the blood dripping from her hands.

The punches were no longer just about Merrill: it was about her past, the loss of her sister, the day she was raped... Every damn thing that had ever happened to her.

It was only when her tears began to blur her vision and her lungs felt heavy as she tried to swallow her sobs that Gwyn finally realized how far she had gone. Her sobs echoed through the walls of the ring, but she didn't want to stop.

She couldn't stop.

"I am the rock..." she gasped, abruptly stopping her blows against the object. When Gwyn extended her fingers to see the extent of the injuries, her hand was trembling. She sniffled and whispered softly: "Against which the surf crashes..."

A groan of pain escaped Gwyn's lips as she let herself fall to her knees on the ground, her body trembling with the intense effort, her heart racing with her turbulent emotions.

She let out an angry scream. With her hand on her thighs, the Valkyrie focused on trying to control her breathing, without much success. All she could do was cry and cry, giving small nervous laughs in the process, mentally cursing the voices in her head who were saying she wasn't worth it.

Gwyn heard light, hurried footsteps approaching her, but she didn't bother to look in the direction behind her when she said:

"Go away."

"What happened?" the familiar voice sounded worried.

"Go. Away." Gwyn said, her voice still choked with tears. She used her wrists to dry her eyes and sobbed. "Please, Nesta. I want to be alone."

"See, Az?" Nesta continued, ignoring Gwyn's request. "She just wants to be alone. You called me for nothing."

Gwyn turned back when she heard Azriel's nickname. Nesta raised an eyebrow, curious.

"Azriel?" the redhead said, confusion in her voice. And then, as if emerging from the shadows, he appeared, silent as the night. His amber eyes were serious, and a look of concern marked his face, slightly illuminated by the moonlight and stars. "You were here the whole time?"

He nodded. Gwyn glared at him, but before she could open her mouth to protest, Nesta intervened:

"He thought it best to call me because he panics when he sees a female crying." Nesta took a step closer and Gwyn didn't tell her to go away this time.

"After Mor broke a champagne bottle over my head when I tried to comfort her during a tough time, I was traumatized." Azriel joked, just to lighten the mood.

Gwyn laughed, something sparking in her chest.

"You idiot," was all she could whisper.

Nesta crouched, taking her friend's hands. "By the Mother, Gwyn! Look at this, it's horrible."

Azriel approached them, alarmed. "Let me see."

Gwyn looked away when tje shadowsinger, with gentle and precise movements, checked the bruises and cuts.

"I hope she didn't broke a finger." Nesta murmured, trying not to show panic. The wingtips of Azriel's shadow quickly fluttered at this, but the male kept his expression calm.

"It seems to be ok. Just some cuts and bruises, we'll have to clean it and apply a few bandages."

Gwyn sighed, feeling embarrassed for losing control to the point of hurting herself that badly. She didn't want to appear weak, especially not in front of Azriel and Nesta.

"How did you do this?" Nesta asked, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. And why? — Nesta only thought that.

Gwyn sighed again, fighting back the tears threatening to return.

"I was... discounting my frustration on the punching bag." She admitted, feeling foolish for not being more careful. "I think I got a bit too carried away."

"Let's take care of this." Azriel said with a comforting gentleness in his voice.

Together, the three headed inside the House, where a "first aid" kit awaited them, as if the House had anticipated their needs. Azriel guided Gwyn to the table. Gwyn insisted she could do it herself, but Azriel's serious look as he said "Sit down" in a low, authoritative tone made her obey without protest. Nesta offered her silent support, placing a hand tenderly on her Gwyn's shoulder.

The quietness of the house enveloped them. Slowly, Nesta felt the silence mix with the concern in her chest. She found herself reflecting for a moment: what had caused Gwyn to explode like this? They had much to discuss.

Gwyn felt her friend's gaze and asked: "Something wrong, Nesta?"

Nesta sighed, pondering how to approach the delicate subject.

"It's just... " she began, hesitant. " Are you... alright?"

" I'm trying to be" Gwyn admitted, her voice a whisper. "But it's been hard lately. Too much happening at once. It's just..." she swallowed hard and glanced at Azriel, who had finished her right hand and now began to clean the wounds on her left hand." I'd rather not talk about it now.

"Alright." Nesta agreed, but didn't leave Gwyn's side.

Gwyn turned her attention to Azriel, who skillfully tended to her injuries. His precise and delicate movements revealed a dexterity she imagined he had acquired over time. She spent a long moment watching Azriel's nimble hands, appreciating the beauty of the gesture.

Nesta did the same. She raised an eyebrow at Azriel, noticing the meticulous care he employed while treating Gwyn's injury — a gentleness that contrasted with the strength of his hands. A rare glimpse of the sensitivity hidden behind the iron facade he constantly carried.

"You're good at this" Gwyn whispered when the shadowsinger was almost finished.

"Years of practice" Azriel replied with a bitter smile, his gaze wandering to his own hands marked by scars of the past. "Don't worry, your hands won't look as horrible as mine do."

Gwyn frowned, surprised by Azriel's self-deprecation.

"I wasn't... I wasn't looking at them like that" she murmured, embarrassed as Azriel placed the final bandage on her right hand and announced he was done. Gwyn held his wrist for a moment before speaking: "Hey. Your hands aren't ugly, Azriel."

Azriel flinched from Gwyn's touch as if it burned him and stood up.

"Good to know someone still has faith in my appearance" he said with a hint of sarcasm, giving an ironic smile before stepping away. "Good night to you both. Don't forget to change the bandages tomorrow, Gwyn."

Gwyn stood up, about to call him back, but Nesta interrupted her:

"It's no use, Gwyn." Nesta sighed, taking a step closer to her friend. "He never listens."

"But..." Gwyn stammered.

"Forget it." Nesta grunted, holding back the urge to grab Azriel by the collar and slap him for treating Gwyn like that after such a calm exchange they were having. Nesta had seen the look her friend gave his hands: admiration. No disgust, no repulsion. Pure admiration. "How about some hot chocolate before bed? I can stay in your room until you fall asleep. If you want to vent, you know..."

"But Cassian..." Gwyn hesitated.

"He will understand." Nesta assured. "Come on, I'm sure the House will prepare a delicious chocolate cake as well."

Gwyn nodded, letting Nesta guide her through the halls. The comforting aroma of hot chocolate enveloped them even before they entered Gwyn's room, making her feel grateful for her friend's presence.

" Thank you, Nesta" Gwyn murmured, feeling more at ease with the warm friendship by her side.

Nesta smiled, wrapping Gwyn in a comforting embrace.

"I will always be here for you, Gwyn."

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THAT'S ALL, MY FELLAS!

I'm crying, are you crying?

This is the kind of thing I'm hoping for Gwynriel: they hate themselves but when they look to each other they say "Hey buddy you're worth it, stop hating yourself!!"

Literally "Do as I say, not as I do, dumbass!!" thing hahaha

I'm sorry but I have to tag you guys @gwynrielweeksofficial @bookish-brainrot @arcturustarlight @bookishwithathought @mycadences who maybe would like reading it :)

Xoxo. Have a good weekend!

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #acosf #pro gwynriel #azriel #sarah j maas

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