#i have a plain red shirt and this pattern red n white skirt that i cut up to make it shorter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragynkeep · 2 years ago

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Would you be interested in explaining the designs you've made for team RWBY?

The thing is with my own designs is that i am a self-admitted perfectionist. I'm really hard on my own designs, and even now I keep changing things around because it doesn't look as how I pictured it. So, the designs I'm showing might not be the exact same in the future save those I really love.

I thought it'd at least be fun and that to include the original attempt I made back in 2020, just to see how I changed and reasons behind it too. These designs are for AZRE primarily, which has different story plots to canon, so the later designs reflect that rather than being purely redesigns of any canon outfit.

Ruby’s first design really didn’t change all that much from both the original and her canon Beacon outfit. It didn’t need to since the original outfit was that good, but I just added a few details to help push the design more.

I added the red midsection and lace to her corset similar to her Mistral outfit so that that section stood out against her black dress, and just introduce some of her colour there. Similar reason with the red laces, especially since my 2020 drawings don’t have laces because I was very lazy and didn’t like drawing them.

Her Mistral outfit is honestly still my least favourite of my designs.

It’s changed a lot since I took inspiration from her V2 alt outfit. The black pinafore keeps the black on her chest, and so the red of her corset pops out and makes Ruby look better protected for the trip to Haven, which was the main inspiration for the outfit. Longer skirt, thick tights, and more armoured boots for long walks, while adding some details to show that time had passed in her tattered cape and longer hair.

Her shirt is a darker grey rather than the white, and I honestly prefer it that way. I do like the idea of Ruby wearing Weiss’ colour on her in Mistral, showing she misses her friend, but the darker silverish grey not only makes the bright read contrast more, but matches the cool colours pop with her tanned skin.

Plus, I added some design elements for Penny. The wrist cuffs aren’t the maroon colour they were originally anymore since the black works better with the grey, and she’s wearing the neckpiece that Penny wore too. Lil’ pieces just to have her close friend in remembrance, and works as something for her cape pins to attach to that isn’t her shirt.

I also really like her boots. They’re probably my favourite boots out of all the ones Ruby wears, which is funny since they’re on the outfit I like the least. The crosses stick out from the black, with the added leather parts just making them look more protective for Ruby while out of Beacon.

That being said, I think next time I’d widen the gap of her skirt to show more of the red petticoat underneath, and add some of the rose patterns I’ve seen on other designs too. Just so there’s something interesting there, since this outfit is honestly a bit plain imo. Also, I’d get rid of the red gloves, I just don’t like how they look with her outfit honestly, but I wanted to keep red on her arms with the removal of the red sleeves she had previously.

Ruby’s Atlas outfit hadn’t changed that much because I love it that much.

It’s obviously a big jump from her canon Atlas outfit. I kept the big skirt with additional fur to help make her look warmer, but I kept the look of her corset and dress underneath. The dress was changed to red and really helps with the colour, being contrasted with the black and white details to stop her from blending into the big red cape behind her.

I love the white trim on her hood, but I did remove the white fur at the bottom since it looks a bit too heavy for Ruby. Similarly, the boots have their shoelaces back to help introduce more red on her bottom half, since with the red dress she was looking a bit top heavy in terms of colour.

You can’t see with her hood on, but while she’s lost the wrist cuffs from her Mistral outfit, I still have her wearing the neckpiece from before, which I keep as a staple in the rest of her outfits.

Really, I just kept to her silhouette while adapting it for Atlas, keeping Ruby warm while trying to make sure her red was prominent, but not too much given the cape. I think the introduction of white is nice with the fur, but in the line up it’s a bit jarring that she doesn’t continue wearing it afterwards.

Really, this is still one of my favourite designs of all the characters, that’s how much I love it.

Similarly to the Atlas outfit, her Vacuo outfit hadn’t changed much besides a few colour changes and added detailing to the shoes. I guess I really just didn’t like drawing shoes years ago.

Since there isn’t a canonical Vacuo outfit just yet, I’m gonna go more into comparing the two here.

Really, I wanted to tone back the black for this outfit, as Ruby would be in a desert climate while wearing this, so I used the skirt/shorts combo that she had in Atlas and used it for here instead. I wanted a more lighter outfit look with the red taking over more, while still keeping some of the darker colours to temper it.

I pulled her corset up over the bust just so it looked more protected and support her bust more, but the shirt is something I’m still torn on even now. The cool silver grey like before pops with the tanned skin, works well with the warm red, and it carries the silver with her eye colour and metal parts throughout the outfit.

But I also really like how the pure white pops against the skin, and looks nice for a Vacuan climate. I think I’m leaning more towards the grey, but I also get if people lean towards the white more. Tis tricky.

Same as with her other outfits, the boots had been detailed more, keeping the red soles and laces to introduce the colour to her bottom half, and it’s the one time I don’t mind extra belts, since the belts on her boots are a real thing and better secures them to her legs. Plus, the black of her boots and her thin red tinted tights help to contrast her legs from the bright red skirt.

Also the bandages over her face still keeps a little white on her even with the different shirt.

Same here with her adult outfit, it’s a design I made without specifically redesigning a canon outfit.

I really was inspired from Anna’s outfit in Van Helsing, which was used for Summer, so Ruby’s adult outfit takes a lot of inspiration from her mother’s. I kept the shorter skirt for a more mature look compared to her puffy skirt, and helps her red travel more through her outfit while being framed by the black corset, shorts, and long sleeved shirt.

Now she has the red sleeves reminiscent of her Beacon outfit, keeping the red on her arms, along with the red soles and laces on her shoes. With the red skirt and black boots, her darker maroon tights helps contrast her legs while protecting them on any mission. I’d maybe do something to help the rose on her thigh stand out more, since the black decal is hard to see on the already dark tights.

The white spot on her chest was something I thought would help add a bit of interest on her chest, similar to how the white spot on Blake’s chest does. I’m not entirely sure on the colouring since it’s the only white, I might change the silver grey of her boots to white so it looks more coherent, but I’m not entirely sure yet.

Not much I actively dislike about the design besides a few bits that need to be fixed.

Similar to Ruby, there’s nothing too major about Weiss’ outfit.

Her blue is very prominent in her outfit here, to the point where it overpowers the white, but at this point in the story that’s what I was going towards. Weiss is very much still in her father’s mindset, and his colour overpowering hers is a visual note I wanted to put in with Weiss’ Beacon outfit.

But still, I moved the red from just inside her collar to inside her entire jacket. It’s a nice contrast against all the blue, and helps separate her blue jacket from the white/blue gradient dress. It’s also like her defiance is underneath, not completely gone despite Jacque’s best attempts.

The blue dress now helps the white sash stand out more as well, as well as her white shoe decals.

Also, she does not have her scar here. Since these designs are for AZRE, Weiss didn’t get her scar yet, so her design here reflects that.

I hate Weiss’ old Mistral outfit. She looks like a clown.

The long dress that Weiss wears in canon V4 is still the same for when she’s in Atlas, but I changed her outfit to this when she escapes. I wanted the white and black to show more, and for the blue to retreat more as Weiss starts to defrost almost. I kept the blue gradients on the hem of her skirt and sleeves, so that the white decals on her sleeves stand out more.

Her jacket style is taken from her Snowpea outfit, but I rounded out her jagged edges to give her a more softer look. The black fur linings of her jacket and dress help to contrast her pale skin from her white clothes, making it easier to keep track of her limbs while she’s moving. Same reason for the black tights, as they contrast with the light blue boots.

Her red is more open now, in her collar and the gems on her shoes. I didn’t want to overdo it with such a bright colour on a palette like Weiss’, so the main focus is always on her neck and face, while any additional details are kept small as to not be too distracting. I also shaped the red gem on her jacket as an apple, a nice nod to her allusion.

It’s almost professional in style, more away from Weiss’ obvious rich lifestyle given her place in the story at this point, but I wanted to keep some of the previous style in small amounts. So, she still has some jewellery in her earrings and choker, which is the only sharp looking piece on her now.

I haven’t changed the girls’ Atlas outfits that much just because I love them.

Similar here, Weiss’ outfit isn’t that different to her old one save colour changes and the change of her dress and shoes, but it’s an obvious jump from her canonical Atlas outfit. I wanted to move away from Disney Princess, and this is really where I took inspiration from her Snowpea outfit, namely the jacket.

I had the jacket shortened with it’s capes taking the signature bell shape that Weiss has. The silver decals help add some interest and detail to the white background, and I added the metal dangling things on the end as a nice parallel to Winter’s design too. The all white jacket is contrasted more with the black sweater and dress underneath, stopping Weiss from looking like an all white blob.

Plus, her white boots and tights separate her legs from her darker midsection. I wanted to keep the blue to all her designs, but in Atlas it’s really minimal, allowing Weiss’ own colour to show prominently while being accented by black; Blake’s colour. Her tights have a gradient to help stand out against her white boots, with the white soles now being swapped for black instead.

I’m not sure about the red decals on them though. The actual colour is fine since it’s small and not that distracting, but i was trying to have the red apples like in her previous outfit. I’m not sure how successful I was with it, but I’m very much on the fence with it.

Obviously, the biggest change in this outfit for Weiss is the hair. I’m firmly on the short hair Weiss hill, it’s where I will put my grave, and I think her returning to Atlas with a new look, completely separating herself from the Weiss in the past, is a very good storytelling choice for her. Especially since she’s always been connected to how she wears her hair.

The little crown is less stylish than her original one, but I kept it since it adds a little something to the top of Weiss’ head.

I didn’t really like this redesign that much when i finished it, but looking at it now, I’m warming up to it more.

It’s still not my favourite, and I’m not entirely sure why, but I wanted to go for a lighter outfit for Weiss in Vacuo. Her white ass is still gonna burn, but just slap some sunscreen on her, she’ll be fine.

I kept the jacket style from her Atlas outfit for the bottom, thought removed the decals for some reason? I would honestly put them back, I don’t understand why I took them off. Still, the white jacket contrasts with her black dress underneath, with the style changed to her more common style dress rather than the sweater/skirt combo from before.

I added the see through fabric at the bottom for a little detail, like the fabric from her Beacon outfit, but I’m not too sure about it. Honestly, it looks kind dumb, so I’ll probably change it to more of a white petticoat underneath, like the petticoat on her Mistral dress in canon.

Her pale legs at least contrast with her dark dress, and the red in her boots keeps the boots from blending in too much. I kept the black soles with white boots as a nice inversion of her earlier boots, and to have the black travel through the outfit more with the white.

The red collar is still the main use of her red, keeping the attention on her face, with the additional open collar underneath. I shortened her sleeves for Vacuo, keeping the bell shape, but they look kinda plain. Some black there would be better.

Pretty much the same here, just like Ruby’s.

I went more towards a business woman vibe for an adult Weiss, just because of her role in AZRE in the later years, while still keeping some of her old fashion. The white and black are pretty even in use on Weiss now, but I kept the white mostly on top to keep it as her most prominent colour. The white with her longer hair also helps with bringing the colour more throughout her design also.

The greyish sash was changed to blue so I had something to separate the jacket from the shirt more, and to keep that little bit of blue on Weiss. She had moved on from her father, but she still has that little piece with her, having used it as a bow to add to herself.

I also shortened the hair from her original look. She grew it out over the years, but it’s obviously not as long as it originally was, now being kept in a more motherly style of a low ponytail, similar to Willow’s. Really, I wanted Weiss to have some parts of her parents in her design, but something she had made for herself rather than something forced upon her like before.

Her bright red collar is bigger, and with the mostly monochromatic colour scheme now, it’s the first thing to jump out when you look at her, helping to keep the eye on Weiss’ face where the scar is.

Blake, why were you so pale originally?

Obviously, the two biggest things I changed for Blake was her skin tone and her eye colour. The darker skin tone is a warm colour that helps with Blake’s mostly cool colour scheme, as well as making her light eye colour pop out more. With her heterochromia, I liked that design point from her concept art and gave it back for her, since she now still has the yellow for Yang, but also blue to match Weiss; two important people for Blake’s development.

Other than that, I really haven’t changed all that much for Blake. Her headscarf is something specifically for AZRE, as she adopted that custom from the tribe she was living in, which helps to cover her face and keep Blake’s identity a secret. The jacket was changed to cover up more of the white on her chest, still keeping that white spot for some contrast while introducing small purple linings for detail.

Her neckscarf was swapped for a more closed bolero jacket, connecting Blake with her mother, and the zippers on her shorts were taken off for more streamlined shorts since I didn’t really like the original zippers.

As for the purple, it’s been shifted towards indigo rather than the pinkish purple she uses later on. The gradient was lightened to allow the black boots to stand out from the black tights, but I kept the purple to a minimum so that the black could stand out as Blake’s primary colour.

The scars are also a specific AZRE choice. I just liked scarred characters.

I know a friend of mine still really likes my original Blake redesign, but I’ve honestly moved away from it. I just don’t like it that much anymore.

I still kept to the tank top and pants that Blake has in her canon Mistral outfit, except I obviously removed the giant white jacket. She’s in Menagerie, she doesn’t need it. The black tank top now completely covers her chest, with the purple belt being replaced by the black jacket she always wears that holds the magnet. I kept the white chest with her black jacket around it, keeping the shirt interesting while framing her chest more.

Similarly, I kept the white belt and gold metal, but her pants have the same purple gradient as her leggings, so that the boots stand out more. I also added the claw marks like on Ghira’s shoes, just for some white on the bottom and because I think it looks cute for Blake to mimic her father’s shoes.

The giant silver emblems on her boots also help, which is something I added because I wanted to incorporate her emblem in a more interesting way than slapping it on her leg. I’m not completely sure about it, but I think I like it.

Like before, her asymmetrical gloves are still there, now having fingerless gloves for better protection. At this point, I would’ve had Blake cut her hair rather than in Atlas, but that’s just me. The shorter, curlier hair helps to set her apart from Yang’s hair, and from Weiss later on who has thinner, straight hair.

Since I wanted to add gold into her design like in canon, I mostly kept it to her belt, eyes and the one earring, just so it doesn’t clash too much with the silver than Blake still wears also.

Past me, stop it with the belt flaps.

I wasn’t putting Blake in the catsuit. Really, I kept to the fancy jacket and suit style that Blake mostly wears, just changed up a little to help with the Atlas climate. Most of her trademark features are still there; the white on her chest, the assymetrical arm wrappings, her long tailed jacket.

Her long white sleeves also give more of an illusion to sleeveless Blake, allowing the black of the ribbons and gloves to stand out, while also covering her up properly for the cold. The jacket tails had been shortened considerable, no longer covering Blake’s legs completely, with the black framing the white shirt and keeping the black on the top.

It stopping just above the black pants mostly helped the white shirt to separate them, keeping the black jacket from blending in with the top of the pants. similarly, that’s why I added the white trimming along with some detail. I removed a lot of the purple from Blake’s original look, and the stupid looking belt flaps for the more natural looking jacket flaps at the back.

Her boots had been shortened too, with some white fur trimming just to help separate the boots from the pants. Really, I kept the colouring mostly monochromatic, with the yellow, silver and purple being kept to a minimum. I used the purple mostly for the collar of her jacket and such, still keeping it for a bit of colour on her.

Really, this is where Blake’s darker skin tone really helps. The pale skin from before just blended in with all the white she was wearing, whereas now it pops out more. This shows how important the skin tone is to a design.

That first design was one I did for Mona’s commission years ago.

I still like some bits of it, like the idea of the white headscarf, but I ultimately ditched more of this besides the shorts and shoes for Blake’s updated look. Given that it’s in Vacuo, I wanted to make sure she wasn’t wearing too much black, but use it in a way that her colour still got across without it being overpowered by the white.

I think I did alright, but I’m not entirely sure tbh.

I went back to her Menagerie outfit for inspiration on this one, with the tank top and white chest coming from that. Her white shorts are longer with the tanned stomach separating the two. I kept the black tights but with a white gradient on them this time rather than purple. The main reason for this really is, similar to Weiss, I wanted these two characters to adopt each other’s colours as the story progressed.

Weiss is shedding Jacques’ blue, Blake is shedding the WF’s purple.

I would really add some more detail to Blake’s shorts here. Add the pockets and lines to make it seem more like shorts, since it looks really plain there honestly. Not only that, but the giant white spot on her chest is starting to overpower the black on her shirt, so I would tone it back just a little.

These two outfits were for two completely different AUs. The old one was just a generic Adult!RWBY design line, while the new one is specifically AZRE!Blake.

I still like the old one for Blake in Menagerie, though I’m not sure about the white sash thing on her waist. I believe I was trying to mimic the coat tails, but it just looks dumb. Everything else is pretty cute, especially the style of the shirt with the black lace patterns and extra arm drapes.

Her new one is really just her canon Mistral outfit but colour inverted and changed. Since she’s in Atlas, I changed the tank top underneath for a full shirt, closed the jacket up, and just gave her gloves.

The black jacket is contrasted with the white shirt, gloves and pants, separating important sections of Blake’s body from each other, while having her colour on top and prominent. I shortened her thigh highs to keep the white in equal parts, with the gold details being changed to white as well. For Blake, I wanted to keep the gold to just the metal parts, while her purple is on the necklace, jacket collar and inside of her coat tails.

I wanted a more proper look for Blake, but still good for Huntress duties, since Blake very much still fights even as she’s older.

I will never know peace knowing that past me used brown for Yang and thought it looked good.

I never really talked about Yang’s canonical Beacon outfit, and I’ve talked about her Hunter outfit enough. It’s my favourite outfit, and really the only thing I changed was upping the saturation to a more cream yellow for her jacket, and changing the black shirt to red for a bit of Ruby’s colour. Really, Yang is the one to wear all of her team’s colours and make it look good.

Plus, the Yang necklace is a neat nod to her Chinese heritage in connection to her name.

As for her canon Beacon outfit, which is what I originally did for the outfit, I like it. It’s definitely Yang’s best outfit out of her canon line up, besides her Hunter one obviously, but ever since the beginning, she was really struggling with proper colouring.

The overall look is great. She reminds me of a sexy biker, which is obviously the look they were going for with Yang. The leather makes her look more protected, similar with her boots, while the different styles of her socks and bandana give her a bit of asymmetry that really works for her. The only thing I don’t like is the style of her sleeves.

They look really childish and puffy. Yang having a more streamlined jacket style later on was great move away from these.

The brown they use is warm at least, and the yellow shirt with her gauntlets at least help to keep her colour on her outside of her giant hair. With the gold detailing, this outfit at least tries to show that Yang’s colour is yellow rather than brown and orange. But the different colours she uses is too much; yellow, two shades of brown, orange, white, black and purple, she’s been suffering from poor colour schemes since the beginning.

I don’t get why they didn’t change the orange to red, allow her to wear Ruby’s colour since she’s meant to be so protective of her sister.

Still, it’s a good outfit, but I do wish she kept her Hunter one instead and her later outfits kept to that design.

I hate those stupid boots.

The biggest thing I wanted to keep with Yang’s design is that she doesn’t have her right arm. It’s a drastic shift in design from before, but I like it. Originally, I kept the jacket sleeve tied up, like how she does it while in Patch, which is something i still like. But in her newer one, I kept the jacket sleeves short and instead have Yang wear a yellow compression bandage instead.

I obviously went for the Hunter colour scheme instead of the canon one. The black jacket helps with the bright gold decals, and the bright red collar stick outs, working similar to how Weiss’ red collar does in bringing attention to Yang’s face. The yellow cuffs adds some colour and interest to the jacket, while her emblem being on the right brings attention to the arm that Yang lost.

Her red undershirt had been changed to a longer cream dress, keeping the yellow throughout Yang’s midsection while helping the black belts not blend into her black pants. Similarly, that’s why I put the yellow bows on her boots for. With the gold buckles and soles, it helps put some yellow on the bottom half of Yang’s design and help the black boots stick out from her pants.

I upped the saturation of the purple on her sash from the more muted colour in her old design, and her canon design. Her purple is always so desaturated and it makes me sad. The purple outside and red instead match the gradient of her eyes too, which I really like.

With her hair, I kept it up in the ponytail she wore in Patch for the rest of her outfits. I like the style of it, it looks more mature for Yang, and helps concentrate her bright yellow hair to her upper body.

She reminds me of a bee.

Really, the biggest criticism I have is that the dress and jacket combo is really similar to her Mistral one, but that is also because I like the look of it that much that I kept it for this one too. I changed the style of the jacket to have a white fur lining on the inside, introducing more of Weiss’ colour to contrast with the black leather, and so it looked more suitable for Atlas weather.

The emblem was moved to the left to balance it more, since the black glove extending all the way up her arm meant that her left side was very lopsided without the emblem there, especially compared with the yellow compression bandage on her right side. It’d obviously be less apparent when she’s wearing her yellow gauntlet, but I wanted the design to be balanced even without her weapon.

Pretty much like the last one, I had the yellow dress down to mid thigh to help the black belts stand out, but her boots had added white fur now to separate them from the pants. The yellow is more apparent on her shoes than before, along with the yellow bows remaining, so her colour is visible throughout the design.

I also swapped the red collar for a scarf. I think it’s cute, a nice way for Yang to stay warm, and a cute nod to Ruby’s cape.

I didn’t change a whole lot when updating this look honestly.

I liked the design of her jacket, but just changed the style of it slightly. Closing it up to not only concentrate the red shirt on her chest, but just making Yang look better protected around the chest area as well. Her jacket has completely shifted from black with gold to pale yellow with black, as I wanted to make it slightly better for Vacuo and not have Yang running around in black leather. It’s still gonna be hot since it’s, you know, leather, but it’ll be fine.

It’s pale enough that she doesn’t look like a bright yellow mess, and her lower half taking more of the black helps to balance Yang’s colour out. It also helps that her darker skin tone makes the yellow pop, rather than blending in with her canon pale skin.

The black cuff and details stand out against the yellow, and helps to separate her limbs from the jacket, especially the brighter yellow compression bandage she wears. I added the little ursa skull for a bit of detail, and to connect Yang to the bear motif of her allusion.

Her shorts and leggings help to neutralise her entire look, while the small gold details pop out, carrying Yang’s colour down her legs and bottom half. The exposed skin still has her sexy look, showing off Yang’s confidence that she reclaimed after Beacon.

The one thing I do miss is the style of the boots from her original redesign. I liked the little designs on them, but I also really like her new boots too, especially with the cute bows.

I still really like Yang’s adult look.

The yellow jacket from her Vacuo look is still there. Originally, I coloured it in black with gold details, similar to her old jacket colours, but because she already wears so much black on her bottom half, with little gold except on the shoes and belt, her yellow was really being lost. So, I kept it as yellow with black details. Since her hair is shorter and still kept up, the yellow jacket isn’t at risk of being lost in her hair.

Her shorts are more jean textured now, with the white trimmings helping to separate them from her black leggings, similar with the yellow front of her boots and bow keeping her shoes from blending in also. The silver cuff on her arm is an AZRE specific point, so it obviously wouldn’t be there for this Yang in any other AU.

While I like the look of it, I’m not completely sold on the look. For some reason, the yellow jacket isn’t working like it did for Vacuo, and it might be the lack of sleeves. I think adding the sleeves back might improve it for me. Similarly, her emblem on her shirt is black on a deeper red, so it’s a little hard to see compared to a yellow shirt.

#rwby #rwby redesign #outfit critiques #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #answered #luke.txt

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getoswhore · 3 years ago

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‘ DAILY NOTES! — testuro kuroo.

☰ ft : yandere! testuro x f! reader

+ synopsis : a certain someone has been jotting down your every move but today, he wants to erase what you've done today. | est. 0.6k wc

cw/tw : time skip! kuroo + kenma, dark content, yandere themes, stalking, jealousy, erotomania, unrequited love, implied murder.

placid graphite lead drilled inside of basic yellow painted wood is in the tight grip of five lithe grace fingers that press the dulling pencil tip sharply against an overfilling page of exactitude notes. it slowly dulls more and more until the once sharp grey cone turns flat as each line and soon-to-be pages to book-filled notes of you get jotted down with precision.

monday.

april 2, 2012.

6:15 am- thankfully, my loves bus #08 arrives on time, opening its unnecessarily bright and ugly yellow doors, and again, thankfully, i see her pretty black bag through the busses small glass windows. but oddly, she's the eighth person to step out.. she's usually the third or fourth person.

those deep brown eyes with lively earthy hues scan your strutting frame with a soft intent from afar..

— what's the occasion for sitting further in the back, y/n? did you make some new friends? or are you not feeling good again, babe? i know you enjoy straying from others in the back when you're not feeling well.. hopefully, it's that one, i don't want you near more people that don't deserve to be in your presence.

before they grew wide, noticing you were walking beside someone.

6:16 am- kenma steps out next, who begins walking closely beside what's mine before opening the cafeteria door for her..? she smiles up at him in a way to thank him. a smile you once gave me for doing the same, but why are you giving it brighter to him, baby?

his teeth grind tightly against each other as he wrote those lines of undesirable words. words he had not thought he would ever put together..

6:17 am- my precious girl and that little boy are both standing in line together now. both, still holding a pursed smile.

— baby? are you cheating on me? why are you smiling with another guy? why are you exposing your beauty to him? i thought you promised me you'll only show me your magnificence.

and it's ruining his momentous notes..

side note- baby, why didn't tell me you bought a new skirt?? i could have came with you to the mall.. (it's a beautiful cherry red, which compliments your skin wonderfully. it has a cute rose pattern towards the bottom as well which matches the soft brown plain and tight shirt your wearing). i love your sweet, innocent style.. but the skirt is the same slutty length, as usual, it barely covers your ass, and exposes too much of your thighs and you know i hate that.. right? and that tight shirt of yours is tucked in, framing your beautiful body more than usual.

he watches carefully, watching every movement and emotion you portray near kenma as if you were a greek sculpture being admired by the sculptor..

6:18 am- she's holding

the lead crumbles. the lead pressing far too hard into the marked paper, causing the once becoming note to quell..

“no.. why is she..”

soft words tumble from his drying lips like pebbles onto sand. his knuckles turning ghastly white the harder he squeezed the golden wood at this horrific scene ahead of him.. in the distance, any batting eye towards you and kenma would guess you two were in love, seeing the bright cherry smiles you held as you linked hands tightly together..

“why are you letting him touch you, baby?”

the burning anger in him that seeks to harm is decently put into the flimsy pencil, the wood snapping in his rigid hold..

“didn't i say stop talking to him? right?”

the familiar acid taste of spite foams in his mouth, seeing you squeeze kenma’s hand softly while giggling all sweetly..

“why, why, why, baby?”

this grim sight begins to break away a part of his soul, the moral part of him..

“that's my hand to hold.”

the sunny morning shortly became scorching with hostility. the pent up animosity in kuroo testuro was pushed into passivity against his own will..

#💌.hq masterlist #💌.testuro kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo #kuroo x reader #yandere #kuroo x you #kuroo drabble #kuroo x y/n #haikyu x reader #yandere kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu!!#kuroo haikyuu #yandere kuroo #kuroo oneshot #haikyuu yandere #haikyuu!! kuroo #x reader #kuroo testsuro x reader

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winterswrandomness · 3 years ago

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hmm. ll etho and bdubs and uhh. uhh fuck my brain is empty. skirts. men in skirts are good.

GASP AH AH OKAY OKAY SO

hmmmmmmmmmm

Okay okay maybe Etho has like a really long and elegant skirt. But like, to about the mid shins. OOH WHAT ABOUT AN A LINE he deserves an A-line skirt I think. One with a petticoat. Just a light one, a light petticoat and medium length skirt is good for coldish er weather, and being in a snow fort probably is a bit chilly since the snow itself would give off a cold air. so like a simple black fabric, a nice sleek one, and maybe it's lined with linen. OOH OOH a jacket too!! a jacket lined with linen or wool! linen is great for helping regulate body temperature, and I also just like the sound. OOH MAYBE maybe the jacket is filled with down. down is very warm and comfy, great for blankets!! it's nice for jackets too, my mama has one that's filled with down and she says it's surprisingly warm despite how thin it is, so it could be a thin layer. Maybe it goes to about the waist, around the skirt waist. I think he would tuck a shirt, loosely but still tucked. or!! sweater time!! like a nice fluffy sweater, nice n comfy, and it gathers around the hip. maybe he would have good socks, thick socks OR he double layers socks. he would double layer socks. ankle socks and then over top just plain white ones. maybe he has leggings under the skirt for more insulation. white leggings, perhaps, to add some visual interest and contrast. okay okay I think for shoes he would have boots actually. no no, sneakers

Etho:

- black A-line skirt, that cuts off two ish inches below the knees. light petticoat underneath.

- relatively light sweater underneath, it's kinda thin. gathers around the hip, roughly where the skirt waist band is. Maybe red, or maybe a washed out green. yeah, washed out green! kinda mint, but more muddy

- chunky jacket lined with wool. Fluffy hood, maybe, with light fluff so it ties in with the leggings. The jacket itself would be sort of olive, definitely darker than the sweater but still green

- white leggings, keep the mask but make it a darker colour. maybe the same colour as the skirt. I think he would have sneakers or something similar, because even if he lives in a snow fort a good amount of time is spent outside of it, which means grassy or muddy forest, plains areas, and the like. running shoes also make it easier to, y'know, run!

OKAY BDUBS TIME

so maybe he would have a fluffy skirt. like medium ish? kinda short kinda not. I imagine it would be pleated, unlike Etho's where it's all smooth and elegant. so Bdubs' would be pleated and be and sort of more casual! I feel like it would be patterned, maybe like a nice plaid, or perhaps polkadotted. OR OR there's flower embroidery. just little flowers, around the waist, but I think it would be nice and add a pretty touch that kinda helps tie in with the moss! apeaking of the moss, I think we'll go with moss hoodie because, even though I adore the fanon cloak, I feel like the hoodie would work better in this instance. maybe the skirt is red! it could match the bandana he has on red, and I think it'd be pretty. so maybe there isn't embroidery, hmmm. Maybe a crimson red, almost leaning a bit toward the peachiness of orange which would help anchor it to a more muddy brown while staying reddish. I feel like he'd have boots of some kind, or maybe leg warmers. okay okay so maybe casual shoes with leg warmers. I'm honestly kinda tempted to say his skirt is pink, honestly. pink and green are such a pretty combo though, ya know? okay okay let's see

Bdubs:

- a fluffy reddish-pink circle skirt (maybe half circle or three quarters circle skirt) that ends just above the knee. definitely not bubblegum or something, but it is saturated and if you look at it you'd go "that's pink" but it has a good hint of red, y'know? he can go spin!

- moss hoodie, we keep. it's nice and fluffy!

- kinda slim kinda chunky jeans, a sort of dark grey or black

- leg warmers!! this helps offset the silhouette so that he's not so top heavy. I imagine they'd be a similar pink to the skirt, but less saturated and more red. he seems like he's have black and white shoes. I'm tempted to say he has a beaded bracelet on his wrist! his shoe laces are a sort of teal, and there are little shoe charms that spell out "best", the B and E on one side with the S and T on the other shoe :D

#ask games!#inbox!#outfittime! out fit time!#huelo cobblue :>

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apexqueenie · 4 years ago

Text

The Blood King (Bakugou x Reader, Medieval AU) Ch 3

Synopsis: In fairytales, princesses like you got to marry handsome princes like your best friend Shoto, but you’re not living a fairytale. You find the harsh realities a punch to the face as you and Sho run away outside palace grounds and into the real world. But the harsh brings out the beautiful, and in your case, it took the form of the scarlet covered barbarian king, whose territory you disturbed.

A/N: AAAAAAAHHHHH, I'm so sorry this took so long! It may have a few mistakes cuz I added on to this after I finished homework sooooooooooo I'm usually half asleep by then. This one is sorta long, so yah, enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence

[Ch1]->[Ch2]->[Ch3]->[Ch4]->[Ch5]->[Ch6]

“SHO!!!” You scream, snapping your torso up from the bed you lay on.

Wait...A bed..?

Your brain just tripped over itself as the memories came flooding back to you. The forest, the attackers, the beast, and then...that man.

You clutched your forehead in pain. Where the hell were you?

You place a hand on the furry and weighted blanket that covers you. It was nice. Quite a bit warmer than the blankets you had at home-

You shook your head. If this is how distracted you get now, you must’ve hit it at some point. You look around the room you were in. It was nice and dimly lit due to closed curtains, but plain. All that filled the space were you, the bed, and a small wooden dresser to your left with a tall cup of water on top.

Water. Sweet, sweet water. You chugged it down, throat parched from the previous events. The cool refreshing liquid woke up some of your senses. Slowly, your grogginess was replaced with the soreness of your muscles. You started to regret sitting up so suddenly. The side you were kicked on started to throb more and more.

You look down at the side in pain, seeing that your blazer and dress were replaced with a simple white wrap skirt secured with a knot around your chest. You felt almost naked, cold too. Never have your arms, chest, and legs been as exposed as they are now. Even your long nightdress had sleeves.

But that wasn’t important. You were in this strange place, Sho is nowhere to be found, and your things are gone. You needed to know more. Now, you may have been overreacting a bit, but what’s the harm in coming prepared? You break the glass you drank from earlier, grabbing the biggest piece and tearing some of the fabric you were wearing to wrap around the shard for a handle. You didn’t know what to expect, but at least you had something to defend yourself with.

You held it in the front as you slowly pushed the creaky door open. You thought you were ready for anything, but you weren’t expecting to be atop a balcony overseeing a complex combination of treehouses, bridges, and grounded buildings all surrounded by stone walls, complete with archers in loose armor patrolling the top. It wasn’t like any of the armor your guards wore though. It consisted of metal, like the knights in your father’s army, but they also wore feathers, leather straps, and colorful face paint. If you had to guess, you were nowhere near your own kingdom. They kept watch of the forest while the rest of the citizens of this odd town bustle happily below. Adults traded and conversed with one another while the children played with balls or kites below. All of them wear similar outfits to yours, comfortable and with a closer connection to nature. Some women wore clay beads around their heads like crowns paired with bright, multi-layered dresses made of choppy fabric. Most men wore loose shirts, some went bare chested, all wore slightly baggy pants, usually with multiple belts. A stark contrast to the puffy floor length dresses and tight pants of your people.

So where exactly were you?

“Do you like the view?” a voice said behind you.

It made you jump, and instinctively, you turn to hold out the makeshift knife you temporarily forgot about. The man you pointed the sharp edge at yelped and held both hands up as he rounded the corner.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have sneaked up on ya.” he smiles sheepishly.

He was a red-headed man with spiky hair, a short vest, bandana, and baggy pants. Similar to the people below. From what you could see, no weapons. Still, you keep the blade pointed at his exposed torso. You’ve never killed anyone before, and the thought scares you, the overwhelming fear of being here in strange clothes scared you even more.

You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from the newcomer. “Who are you?”.

“Eijiro Kirishima, right hand man of King Bakugou. I’m glad to see you awake and well.” he says, not moving from his spot. “We’ve met before, your highness.”

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded. You’ve never seen this man in your life. You would’ve known if you did, his face is...very memorable.

He pointed to the decently sized scar on his face. It traveled from his right corner of his lip and up to the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t bright red, but it still looked like it had only recently healed. A cut like that would’ve taken at least a week for it to stop being inflamed; you wondered how he’d gotten it or why he was pointing to it.

You shook your head, not understanding.

Kirishima chuckles nervously, “Well uh, it might be hard to explain, but uh first things first, I came here to check on you. How’s that rib feeling?”

“My rib? It...hurts a lot” you admit, lowering the glass shard. ‘Hurt’ was an understatement though, it felt like it was on fire. Your side throbbing painfully with each breath you took. Adrenaline could only mask it for so long.

He nods and slowly approaches you again, hands out where you could see them. “Let’s get you back in bed” he says, gently scooping the glass out of your hand and placing it in his back pocket.

Hesitantly, you complied, weary of the shard being in his possession. At least, he seemed like he didn’t want to kill you. You leaned back into bed, muscles screaming from the short encounter. It’s only now you truly realize the extent of your injuries. You hissed as Kirishima readjusted your pillow as best he could, shaking the bed a bit.

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll let Deku take a look at you. He’s our medicine man, or doctor if you like.” And with that, he walks out, closing the door behind him.

But you couldn’t stay still. Even though your ribs hurt, you couldn’t sit back and wait. If you’re being nursed here, Shoto must be nearby. And besides, they don’t want to hurt you, right? After all, as you hauled yourself up and headed to the door once more, you found it still unlocked. You weren’t their prisoner.

You took a peek around the corner that you saw Kirishima come around last time. It led to a free hanging wooden bridge to another tree. The other side of your cabin led to some steps that took a wide curve around a wooden pillar of some sort, but taking a look upwards only showed you that it wasn’t a pillar at all: It was an absolute unit of a tree. Incredibly thick, and at least 500 feet tall, the tree had stairs carved from all over its sides and bridges split off to smaller trees holding up houses. An even more intricate pattern of pathways sat above your head than what you saw the first time when you looked on the balcony.

You clutched the railings, making your way up the stairs and onto the first platform branching off into other paths. Your “room” was just a simple block, fitted halfway into the trunk of the big tree. Woven branches and leaves make a simple flat roof; not much different from any other building here. Guess you’re just gonna have to find someone who knows this place. Preferably not Kirishima. You had a feeling he’d just bring you back to your room.

You hauled yourself up more stairs, opting to take the paths closer to the tree. Traversing mazes was never your strong suit, and this place could get you lost in a few seconds.

The further you went along the stairs, the harder it was for you to breathe. Your injury was draining your energy fast, making your body feel like a thousand pounds. Maybe going back to bed wasn’t a bad idea at all.

Just as you were about to give up and sit down, you came across a wider bridge, one that was definitely a lot more extravagantly built than the last. Thicker, and with decorative railings. It was built between the tree itself and a large mountaintop so tall, you couldn’t see the top. The bridge extended in a T shape, the horizontal bit from the tree built to the length of one wall of the kingdom to another with stairs down to where the guards patrolled. At the smaller section of the T sat a huge double doorway, carved from the wood of the tree you’ve been climbing around for the past 10 minutes. It depicted battles, warriors wielding swords and fighting alongside winged beasts of enormous size...Dragons. Then it clicked. Kinda. You swung at that large beast before, at its snout right when it was right behind you. And Kirishima had a scar along his mouth and nose...

Kirishima = Dragon?

You shook your head, unable to fully convince yourself. It must be your pain fogging your mind a bit. You guess it was the same reason you were walking through those double doors. Big doors were the norm for you, being a princess after all. In your state of confusion, it’s better to go with more familiarity. You pulled it open with a bit of difficulty and slipped in as the doors slowly closed behind you without a sound. Just as you suspected, it was a grand hall for royalty that was almost as big as your father’s. The room was curved, thanks to the tree’s natural design. Flowered vines decorated the plain walls. An empty throne of wood and bones sat in front of what you thought must be the opening to the other side of the tree. You could see the sunshine bathe the throne in its gentle light.

You straightened your composure subconsciously, as you’ve been taught to in throne rooms like these, and walked to the throne. Bones and wood, delicately intertwined with one another to form a beautiful crest along the top of the backrest and pair of armrests. You dragged your fingers along the sanded wood gingerly, admiring the craftsmanship. Swords were stabbed in between, like trophies. Some chipped, others completely broken in half. All went through obvious signs of battle. Losing battles, that is. This was a throne for a King that should be feared. Unlike your father and birth giver’s thrones, which symbolized elegance and formality, this one was fierce, powerful, and dangerous. For some reason, your mind was reminded of the man with the Vermillion eyes. How he strode proudly with bold movements, the same way you’ve seen your father or King Enji act when confronted. Was he the one who owned this throne?

A few feet behind it were steps leading up to a large balcony, open to give an extraordinary view of the kingdom you saw before. You walked up the steps slowly, entranced by the calm sight of the sky and trees. A warm breeze lifted the stray hairs from your face, and you felt calm, your injuries temporarily forgotten. You thought you saw everything from the height you were at when you first woke up, well, you were a couple hundred feet higher now and so much more had been revealed. You could see the exact boundary of walls that protected the civilians, previously hidden by other trees. A huge, open gate on the other side of the kingdom guarded by tiny soldiers both on ground and up on the wall. The complex bridges you saw earlier seemed to build around this area so as to not obstruct the view. You dared not to go straight to the railings though, it felt out of place for you to be watching over someone else’s civilians. So just at the top of the stairs you stayed.

Along the sides of the extended walls where the stairs were built, hung swords of all shapes and sizes, snugly staggered amongst each other like decorations. Each one told a story, from the blade type down to the hilt decorations. You wonder who wielded each magnificent weapon. The man you fought had a sword worn down from no doubt years of battle, more so than any of these blades on the wall.

“I wonder where he is.” you spoke out loud.

“Where who is?” a gruff voice responded.

You froze in place.

Speak of the devil. There he was. He appeared around the left side of the throne, nonchalantly leaning an elbow above his head on it. He wore the same attire as before, cutlass hanging at his side- only this time, tribal beads and threaded teeth hung around his neck. The sunlight coming from the open spaces behind you revealed his hair to be golden, as well as uncovered the many battle scars that previously blended with his skin underneath the pale moonlight. He made your shrink a bit in his presence.

He cocked his head to one side, lifting an eyebrow at your staring. “Well?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you forced yourself to say something. “Sorry, You, you’re..and then...Uh…” you managed to spit out, ears burning. You couldn’t look at him straight. He only narrowed his eyebrows in response. ‘Great job (y/n), he thinks you’re a moron now.’ you scold yourself.

“Maybe that shitty Deku got it wrong, and you’re the one with the concussion.” he scoffed.

“I have no such thing!” you blurted out. You tried to look him in the eyes again, but the dominance they radiated made you feel like a pup caught disobeying her master. But why? You’re royalty, a future Queen! You shouldn’t let the likes of him intimidate you like this!

So you stood up straight again, taking a deep breath and raising your chin to address the man in front of you properly. Your insides felt like they were being stabbed with a flaming rod, but you refused to succumb to it now. “I lost myself a bit there. I’ve come here for answers.” you say, clasping both hands together. “Where is the leader of this Kingdom?”

Unfazed by your new composure, he stared right back. “You’re lookin at him.”

“And your name?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It matters because I’d like to know to whom I’m speaking with.” you grit your teeth.

“Oh, and what gives you the right, little thief?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not a thief,” you growl, “I’m princess (y/n) of the Northern Kingdom, first and rightful heir to the throne. As a fellow royal, I deserve the right to know who you are.”

At your words, his body went rigid. “You deserve it, huh?” He moved from his spot at the throne, up the stairs towards you and towering over your figure. You shuffled backwards in alarm. “You, a Northern pansy with your tea parties, lazing around in your kingdom, not giving a damn about the ecosystem around you. You call that royalty?” He spat, raising his voice. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, physical heat, fueled by his anger. “Destroying more of my home to make room for your stupid roads. Killing my people’s food for sport and leaving the skinless carcass to rot so you could have your stupid exotic rugs- I’ve seen how much you people take for granted. If it weren’t for the size of your army, I would’ve conquered you assholes by now. Why did I even listen to that damn Kirishima, I should’ve left you and your boyfriend in the forest. At least you’d be useful for once-”

“Wait, I think you’re overreacting here, and he’s not-” you tried to reason, stumbling over your feet. You completely lost your composure now, your heart practically beating out of its chest.

“Or your brother, I don’t give a damn who he is, my people are running out of food because of yours- but I don’t think you ever knew, huh? Probably worried over some bullshit like what you’re gonna wear, or if some other pretty boy prince out there thought you were cute.” He continued. You back found the edge of the railing and you latched your hands onto it. Taking a quick glance backwards, you found the height a little terrifying now.

“Well, I’m over here hunting day and night to find meals and what do I get? Two more mouths to feed. Useless, pathetic weights on my back. If you wanna talk about being my fellow royal-”

“Bakugou, stop!” you hear Kirishima’s voice echo.

Kirishima. Oh thank god Kirishima is here.

The newly identified “Bakugou” snaps his head to the side at the voice. You look around Bakugou’s figure to see the redhead entering through the doorway, a stranger with green hair trailing behind him.

“You need to eat, Kachaan.” the stranger says. “We’re not starving, Denki found a whole new area with more game- but you can’t hunt it if you’re the one hungry.”

“Stop telling me what to do, I’ll eat when the provisions are restocked.” he turned to the side to face the pair and glared.

Kirishima in the meantime had already ran across the hall, climbing the stairs up to you two. “It’s been three days, brother, you’re getting aggressive.”

Bakugou took another glance at your shocked figure, and for a moment, you could see a pang of guilt hit him. But it was fleeting. His face returned to and scowl and he scoffed, fully turning around and heading down the steps past his comrade. “Aggression is what’s kept this kingdom prosperous.”

“Well, yelling at her highness isn’t very prosperous.” he shot back, tracking the blonde with his eyes.

The stranger made his way next to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Kirishima acknowledged him and rushed off towards the doors with his leader.

“Well they’re always talking about equality for some goddamn reason, why can’t I yell at them like men?” Bakugou threw his hands up in the air.

“That’s not what they’re talking about…” the other man responded.

Their voices grew distant as they left the hall, leaving you and the kind stranger. With Bakugou gone, you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and fell to your knees, groaning.

So, that was Bakugou. You didn’t wanna think about what could’ve happened if Kirishima hadn’t stopped him.

“Woah, hey, uh, we should get you back to your room.” he says, cradling your shoulders. “I’m Izuku Midoriya by the way, but you can call me Deku.”

“(Y/n)” you strained. “Nice to... nice to meet you Deku, but I can’t go back yet. I have to make sure Sho is ok…”

Deku brought you back up to your feet, sliding an arm around your waist and a head under your arm. “Sho? Is that your friend?”

“yeah,” you nodded as the two of you began heading to the door yourselves, “my childhood friend. We were...we got lost...”

“Lost? We could send a messenger out to your kingdom and let them know you’re here-” He says.

“No!” You yelled. Deku looked taken aback and gave you a concerned look. A little embarrassed, you cleared your throat. “No. It’s ok, I uh, I’d prefer we don’t make a huge deal about this.”

Deku chuckled, “Oh, of course my lady, but, are you sure you’re ok to go visit him?”

“Please, I was the one who caught him in all of this mess.”

He smiled as he pushed one of the doors open with his foot, and headed down the steps almost as far as where your own room was, only before the last flight of stairs he took a bridge across to another tree where a small cluster of buildings sat. He gently slid out from besides you to open the front door. Sho laid flat on the bed in front, quietly sleeping. He looked much better now. The lump on his face had almost disappeared, wrapped heavily in clean bandages. He was shirtless as well, only more bandages covering his chest and parts of his arm. He had bruises everywhere, but otherwise, he looked taken care of. In addition to the bedside dresser, there was a small wooden table to his right with tools, bandages, and washcloths. He must’ve needed stitches. You teared up at the sight, feeling guilty again for all the trouble you caused.

Deku gently placed a hand on your shoulder again, leading you to a couch on the side of the room. “He’s got a concussion as well as deep cuts here and there, but he’ll make a full recovery in about three weeks. I’m going to have him stay in bed for a week and a half and then go from there.”

“It’s all my fault,” you whispered, voice cracking. At this point, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“What? No, it’s those people in the forest. Wild people. They like to mess with anyone caught out at night. Except for kach- erm, The King. They’re terrified of him.”

You sniffed, “Bakugou, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “we grew up together, so I’m used to calling him Kacchan. It was just a name and uh, oh, and, I’m sorry for the way he acted, he’s been out scouting food for a while, not eating at all. He thinks the forest is slowly going dry. He’s a good person, I promise, he just has a mean face. He must’ve scared you.”

“It’s ok,” you shook your head. “He was...he was right. About my people.” You wiped the tears from your eyes, staring at the wall in front of you. “My father, he likes money and power. He likes seeing happy and rich citizens. I used to think it was because he cared about them when really, it’s so he could show off to other kingdoms. I could hear them sometimes, talking about expanding towards the forest, cutting down more trees for a new library or something. He liked the pelts too, making me little stuffed rabbits when I was younger. I always thought it was ok though, I never knew people lived here. Now I feel awful.”

Deku gave you a kind smile. “Hey, but it wasn’t you, right? That was your dad. Don’t beat yourself up over his decisions.”

“Yeah” you sighed, “I guess.”

Deku’s smile grew bigger, and he pushed himself off the couch. You watched him walk over to the dresser and opened up one of the drawers to pull out a small blanket.

“Here” he said, unfolding the blanket and handing it to you. “I’m gonna go grab the medicinal tea I brought to your room, it’ll help with the pain. Uh, I’m not quite sure, but I think you may have slightly fractured a rib, so the best thing we could do is let it heal itself for a week. Who knows, it might just be bruised.”

“Thanks.” you say, laying yourself down on the couch in the meantime. After Deku came back with that tea, you passed out fast.

You had a dream. Your father was right in front of you, raising his sword above his head. He was scared of something, but you couldn’t tell what. The background was fuzzy, but you could see it was destroyed. You were raising your arms, protecting someone. Everything was in slow motion, fading slowly to white.

You spasmed awake, inhaling sharply. The image faded fast out of your mind. Shoto was snoring lightly on the bed, arm lazily resting atop his stomach. Good. Sighing, you set aside the blanket and walked out the door for some fresh air. The tea helped you a lot, even now. You didn’t even feel any pain. The moon shone brightly again as the breeze cooled your skin, giving you deja vu of the whole fiasco from before. Except this time, this was peaceful. You weren’t lost. No one was chasing you. And most importantly, you and Shoto were safe. Everything was good for now.

A large shadow fluttered in the corner of your eye, causing you to jump a bit. A red dragon with magnificent wings landed in the clearing by the kingdom gates, which were now closed shut. Its rider, the buttholeish King, yelled at the guards. They notched their arrows, shooting into the forest with expertise. A roar of some sort of animal retreated, rustling trees in its wake. Bakugou slid down from its neck to untie the fresh animal carcasses secured on the dragon’s back. Other soldiers came from the buildings to help carry them. Then, as Bakugou hopped to the ground, the dragon began to shrink back into itself. Wings folded into his backside, neck shortening, and body losing its color to turn into...Kirishima. It blew your mind. So you really did hit him hard back there. You had to apologize.

You rushed down the steps to find them, not really thinking about the fact that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. Nor did you really think about your stamina. Five sets of stairs and you were already panting.

As you leaned against the tree, trying to be careful with your breaths. It still didn’t hurt, but damn did you get tired quick. Just as you were turning to tackle another flight, a head of blonde hair appeared from below, scowling.

“Again? What is it with you and not sitting still?” he grumbled. You could hear the fatigue in the way his voice cracked.

You sat up from the tree, surprised that he climbed so fast. “I, er, wanted to apologize to Kirishima for the wound is all.” you rubbed your arm nervously as he stopped in front of you.

He eyes you with skepticism, probably wondering if you were telling the truth or not. “He’s gonna be taking care of the fresh meat for a while, and probably sleep till late afternoon knowing the lazy idiot.” he grumbles.

“Oh.” you say, still kind of embarrassed.

“And besides, he’s fine. He heals like it’s nothing.”

“Because he’s a dragon…?”

“Heh, something like that.”

“Oh.”

You two sit in silence for a moment after that. The awkwardness was almost unbearable.

“This reminds me, Shitty Hair wanted me to do something. Can you walk up the stairs?” he finally asks.

You shrug, “I’ll get up there eventually.” you respond.

“Well, I don’t have time to wait for ‘eventually’” he says, and lifts you up off the ground with both arms. He hugs you close to his bare chest and climbs the stairs with no problem, not even a slight change in breathing.

You help a bit, holding on to his neck for support. “Where-“

“I have to give you your shit back.” He grunts. “You lived so I don’t get to keep your sword.”

“What an awful mouth you have for a king.” You frown.

He smirks in response, “you haven’t seen the half of it, princess.”

Princess. The way he says “princess” sends shivers down your spine. You don’t know why, but you found yourself staring at his features again. Hair shining almost white again, gently waving in the wind. Piercing eyes, sharp jawline, defined collarbones…

“Oi, quit starin.” He interrupts your thoughts.

“Huh? Why...uh, why would I stare at you?” you say, your voice an octave higher.

He chuckles lightly while you try to look everywhere but him. He passes Shoto’s room and instead keeps heading upwards. Past the throne room too, taking a staircase to a room above it. He pushes it open to a gorgeous bedroom. The amount of oil lamps lining the walls could barely light up the entirety of the room. Giant bed with plush pillows along one wall, a balcony on the other side of the room, a door leading to what you think is a bathroom, and lots and lots of “trophies” hanging up on the wall. Helmets, swords, capes, horns, claws- must be from what he killed. One horn spread the length across the wall from his bed, being almost 10 feet long. You’d be terrified to know what creature that belonged to...or, had belonged to. Still, they were oddly beautiful. Clearly, they were a struggle to take down, judging by the damaged sword Bakugou wielded and the slight deformities in the trophies themselves. A crack down the middle of a knight’s helmet. Multiple tears in a blue and white feathered cape. It was almost surreal to you, that a man that could win all these vicious battles can gently place you on the soft cushions of one of the few couches that occupied his room.

Walking to his bed, he picked up an object propped up against the bed frame. He trunks to you, holding it flat against both hands. Your sword!

He unsheathed it, examining the blade in the dim lamplights with approval. “This is made of Awherian metal, better not lose it.” he says, sheathing it and handing it back to you. You take it gingerly, propping it by your feet.

“Awherian?” You repeated.

“Awherians used to be a tribe up in the North before going extinct a long time ago. Legends say they used to battle giants, cuz they ate their dragons...or some bullshit my old hag likes to talk about.” he crosses his arms.

He took notice of you lowering your head, and sighed, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat, “I shouldn’t have said all that. Earlier, I mean. Kirishima was right about being hungry, I don’t usually yell at women. Unless they’re trying to kill me, you know.”

“It’s ok,” you lean back into the couch, “you weren’t wrong. I said this to Deku earlier already: I thought my father was doing the right thing because he, well, he’s my father. If I had known there was a whole civilization here...I just...I hope I can help.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, calculating. Were you genuinely being honest? Maybe, he thought. He has his doubts still.

Bakugou was always weary about newcomers, and didn’t take too kindly to them. The only reason these two were brought in was because Kirishima urged him to. The king refused at first, reasoning that this could’ve been a set-up, that the cult that pranced the outskirts of their territory had a plan to send in spies this way. Of course, Kirishima says that there’s no way they would possibly injure their own like this, leaving them one step away from death, but Bakugou has seen their ways. They would eat each other if they wanted to. Eventually, he gave in on the reasoning that they weren’t the smartest of people. You seemed different. He ordered his closest men, including that shitty Deku to keep an eye on you both.

“Maybe you could. Who fuckin knows” He says, “but not when you can’t even climb fucking stairs without wheezing like a granny.” He says, earning a slightly offended whine from you. He smiles lightly, then points to his bed with a thumb. “Go.”

You look at him, perplexed. “In your bed?”

“No shit, it’s the middle of the night.” He narrows his eyes.

“I’m, b-but we’re not married-“ you stuttered.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “relax princess, you have it to yourself. I just don’t feel like taking you back down to your room, or to that half n half bastard.”

With a grunt, he picks you up off the couch and onto the bed. The plush blankets swallowing you almost immediately.

“Do you like insulting people?” you ask as he throws the blanket over you.

“I dunno, do you like breathing, or is it just something you do?”

“You’re impossible.” You rolled your eyes. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“The couch.” He replies, undoing the buckles on his cape. “Sleep, we’ll have you properly taken care of tomorrow, starting with a bath.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Hey!” you pouted. A bath sounds wonderful though.

“You were supposed to be in bed all day today, but whatever.” he sighs. He folded his cape neatly and placed it on his bedside dresser, then flopped onto a couch on the far side of the room, facing away from you. Eventually, his muscles relaxed and you could hear soft puffs of breaths as he slept.

It was calming in a way. Every night, even as a small child afraid of the dark spaces in your room, you slept alone. You had to overcome that fear alone, your mother definitely didn’t want you bothering her, and your father was far too tired from dealing with the kingdom all day. But knowing someone else was in the room felt, in an odd way, nice. You drifted off again, but this time, without dreams.

Tag List: @pasteldaze @decayz @akihoeeeeeeeee @blinkingsuns @stan-josie @skylan666 @hypothesaurus

Let me know if you’d like to be in the tag list!❤️

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader series #bakugou x y/n #mha x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #i am so tired but i enjoy writing all this for you lovely people #love you all

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dollfaced-erin · 4 years ago

Text

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: this chapter may be a little gory for some people. It contains lots of blood and angst and tears, broken bones, and the like. If you are uncomfortable with it, you can read until bold words after the cut. That’s when the gore starts. Then it ends at the highlighted, bold word, you got me?

Present Sebastian means the adult Sebastian, orite? In this time frame, everyone will be aged down, so here’s a headcanon of their ages. All the ages of bachelors and bachelorettes have been taken into account by their appearance, current height, personality and maturity.

(Y/n) and Abby: 6 years old (currently 23) Sebastian: 8 years old (currently 25) Sam: 7 years old (currently 24) Penny: 7 years old (currently 24) Maru: 3 years old (currently 21) Emily: 9 years old (currently 26) Haley: 7 years old (currently 24)

Lewis, Evelyn and George: mid Forties Robin, Demetrius, Caroline, Jodi, Pierre, Gus: late twenties to early thirties Pam, Marnie: late thirties

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Where am I?’ Sebastian wondered to himself. It was bright all around him, but it was quite cold. He looked around him, trying to figure out where he was.

‘The bus stop?’ he concluded as his eyes landed on the meter that stood at the side of the road. The foliage around him was somewhat similar to what it was now, but the trees were bare of their leaves and if they did bear any, they were orange and yellow.

But he knew this wasn’t in present time.

The bus that stood idle on the tar road was gone, most probably still up and running in this time frame. But if it was, then, this must be pretty far back. But when exactly was th--

“Sebby! Wait up!” his train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a little girl. Instinctively, Sebastian turned his head around, accustomed to the nickname he had been called by people closest to him.

But it wasn’t regarded to him, well....not the him now.

A young black haired boy in a dark colored, sleeveless hoodie was in his sight, despite the cold autumn wind, was running towards him. He flinched, as if preparing for the impact from collision.

But it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes and chuckled to himself. The boy had run through him, telling him that this wasn’t reality, despite how real it looked.

He turned to see a little boy, before his right hand unconsciously grabbed his chest. Right above where his heart was. It hurt. But why? Was it this child? The child that was without a doubt, him?

The same thing happened when (Y/n) first moved here. The same feeling before his vision temporarily swapped with an old, worn-out memory, too muddled for him to even identify who was who in it. And suddenly he had a small horrible feeling in his chest.

He decided it was nothing though, and just shrugged it off.

The boy turned around, his bright black eyes glimmering with joy and innocence of a child as a large smile had taped itself permanently onto his face.

“Abby! _____!” Wait, what was that? He heard Abigail’s nickname, but the next was just plain white noise. And all noise disappeared when her name was spoken. As if a chunk of sound was extracted from a record and was left empty before playing the next part, leaving it incomplete.

But before he could think any further, two more figures came running over, hand in hand. Two little girls. A girl with wavy chestnut hair in a frilly blue dress and another with long (h/c), hair reaching her waist who wore a white turtle neck and (f/c) cotton skirt with flower patterns.

“What are we going to play today?” the (h/c)-haired girl asked, hand still lingering in the girl who is apparently Abigail’s past self. Young Sebastian thought, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Let’s play tag!” he suggested, but Abby refused.

“No! It’s no fun with three people!” Abby retorted, sticking her tongue out. The other girl remained silent, as if she were thinking up a better solution.

“Well, Sebby, if you still want to play tag, lets invite the others, then! At least, if it’s four people or more, it would be more fun!” she offered, her sweet voice sounding outstandingly familiar.

Sebastian had no idea why this girl was radiating a strong sense of nostalgia. And he was heavily confused why he had proposed the game of tag. For as long as he remembered, he hated the game tag. All this was surely just a dream.

“Okay then,” Abigail agreed. “Let’s bring Emily and Haley and Penny and Sam, then!” she said happily, looking at the other two who nodded their heads.

“Abby, since you suggested Penny and Sam, you go get them!” Sebby said. But Abby refused, stomping her small foot on the ground. “No! Then _____ has to come with me!” she protested, grabbing hold of the confused girl’s hand.

“No!” Sebby said, grabbing the other (s/c) hand. “She stays with me!” he shouted back, tugging her arm. “_____! You’re staying with me, right?!” he asked, but Abby shouted back. “No! She’s coming with me, right? _____?!”

“I’ll go with Abby! Then, I’ll come back Sebby! How about that?” she asked, “I’m still gonna come back to you anyway!” the little girl spoke boldly, making past and present Sebastian’s face redden. Who was this little girl?! Why is she so determined? Why does this feel so familiar? It was starting to mess with him. As if the white noise whenever the little girl’s name was spoken wasn’t already bothering enough.

“Fine! You two better come back, got it?!” Sebby gave in, letting go of the small wrist with a red face. Sebastian chuckled. His imaginary younger self had a crush on this unknown girl? This dream really was something.

Or so he thought.

Abby grabbed little _____’s hand, as the two departed. As they were out of sight, Sebastian heard his younger self say, “I wanted to tell her something. And this was her last day here! Why does she stick to Abby so much?!” he grumbled, kicking a nearby stump. Sebastian chuckled. Was this dream to fulfil his unfulfilling childhood?

Cliche. A young boy wanting to confess to his childhood crush that was going to move. But was she really a citizen here in Pelican Town? Abigail told him, well, Sam, at the Saloon, that there was a little girl that visited during a certain season. Was this it?

Moments later, the two came back with another four in tow. Young Sammy, Haley, Emily and Penny. And the game of tag began.

“Remember! Avoid the road!” was the only rule little Abby stated before all of them scampered around, avoiding the first person tagged. Little Sammy.

The game went on, each child successfully tagging another. Sammy, Abby, then _____, Sebby, _____again, Penny, Emily, Abby, Haley, Sammy, Haley and the list kept going on.

Until Sebby was tagged again by Abby, he ran to tag someone else. Of course, it was common sense to avoid everyone, right? And little Sebby was chasing the closest person to him, their blonde blue eyed boy, little Sammy.

Sammy was cornered and the only way he wanted to evade the dark haired boy’s attack was to cross the road, even though it was considered out of bounds. He ran and crossed the road, ignoring all the cries and shouts from his friends and stood triumphantly on the other side.

Sebby wasn’t about to give up though. He was going to chase Sammy and tag him next. So the black haired boy ran right after him. But from all the noise and excitement, he never realized an incoming vehicle from the tunnel. And Sebastian had heard it even when Sam was crossing.

Sebastian felt himself calling out his own name, repeating the same words, ‘No’, as if his younger self could hear it. Tears began running down his face for no apparent reason. His chest hurt so much, despite not knowing why. This was bad. The horrible he shrugged off earlier was growing in him rapidly.

~Something bad was going to happen.

Despite all the shouts, little Sebby ran to cross the road, before a large blue lorry entered his sight. He stopped in his tracks, too afraid to move. His black eyes watching as the large vehicle was going to hit him.

Everything happened so fast.

“SEBASTIAN!”

Sebastian felt a hard push in the back and he stumbled to the ground.

Screeching tires. Panicked yells. Scrambling on the grass. A loud colliding sound between metal and something hard. A dull, sickening thump on the ground. Horrified screams and wails.

He remembers everything. Everything came back to him in that small instance. Despite looking at the ground, he can see everything that happened. He lifted his head, wishing that what he’s about to witness wasn’t what he hoped to be.

“No...no it can’t be! NO!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet as more tears ran down.

The children around him were screaming, crying, wailing, in fright, horror, sadness, pain.

For the one that laid still on the tar road.

A pool of blood circled the head of the young child, it’s long (h/c) strands mercilessly disheveled and painted in the warm liquid beneath, staining the white shirt she wore. Her clothing was slightly torn and dirty from rolling on the ground, but that didn’t conceal the horrifying angle her right arm was.

Her left side was vulnerable to the lorry, but when she rolled, she used her right arm to stop herself. And that horribly failed. Her shoulder was completely shattered, but bits of bone were poking out of the tender flesh and white cloth. Her face wasn’t visible. But he knew there was a horrible gash across her forehead.

The children were calling her name out repeatedly, running over to their fallen friend. Calling her name to get her to respond. Kneeling by her side as the lorry driver came running out. The cries of the children bringing attention to the townspeople. All of them came running to see the commotion.

“No....” Sebastian whispered once more, tears endlessly dripping from his eyes. “No! No! No!” he stood there, too shocked to even move. What was all this?! What was happening?! What was--

“(Y/N)!!”

He shot up, sitting up, tears running down his face from the dream. He was in the safety of his dark basement. He looked at the time. 2 AM. But he knew it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A trauma that left him trembling for years. That locked itself up in his mind. Too shocked to remember.

The dreams before this were just snippets and altered versions of the real event. The more twisted, but safer version that never disrupted or triggered his memory in any form.

He remembered everything that happened.

When he ran to chase Sam, he froze in the middle of the road. Young (Y/n) moved fast enough to push him out of the road. But in exchange, she got herself hit. And that horrible event brought despair upon the children, to the point where they grew up completely opposite of what they were during children. Closed off to their memories due to trauma, unnerving and odd feelings towards childish things like the game tag.

He remembered all the adults that rounded them. First it was Jodi and Caroline who were chatting in the town square and heard the collision. Then, it was Robin who was taking a break from her blueprints. Being the adventurous and boisterous female she was, she immediately bolted down the mountain, through the Farm.

She called out the old man that resided there, asking about her child and his grandchild before the two ran off to the bus stop. Evelyn with George outside together on the bridge near the empty lot Joja was on now. Even George was worried, so he asked Evelyn to push him over.

Demetrius had to stay with Maru since he saw his wife bolt in front of the house in a hurry and panic. Lewis was out tending his garden when he heard the shrill screams.

All the adults began to run over and Lewis immediately dialed the ambulance when he arrived. All of them were shocked, shook by the gruesome scene before them. But only (Y/n)’s grandfather didn’t freeze in place. Instead, he ran straight to his beloved granddaughter.

The old man broke down crying, holding the limp left hand of his precious but unconscious little girl, too afraid to move her. Robin next to him, grabbing her son, checking over for injuries before pulling him to her chest, weeping silently from worry and sadness. Pained, from the broken shouts of her son who still scream the little girl’s name before evidently breaking down.

Jodi stood pale before bolting over when she heard her son’s cries pulling him into her arms. Caroline and Pierre cradled little Abby in their arms, shutting her eyes as she continued to weep on their embrace, her throat too hoarse and dry to call out her friends name anymore. Emily and Haley’s parents turned their children’s head away from the bloodbath scene, the image of the limp girl burned permanently into their memory core. Pam ran to Penny, who refused to turn away from her friend, screaming out her name none stop between her wails.

All of it returned to him. The most impacted one, was undoubtedly him. The one he loved being run over from trying to save him. She was taken away by the ambulance and he was brought along with the rest for a check up.

It was blurry when they had the check up, but they stayed the night. (Y/n) was wheeled into the ER and brought into the room when they were all fast asleep. Her head and arm were all wrapped out, her left ankle was bandaged.

When they woke up, (Y/n)’s parents had come and had a huge fight with her grandfather, his mother, Abby’s, Sam’s, all while cradling their unresponsive child in their arms.

Remembering all that in an instant took a heavy toll on Sebastian. His tears never stopped falling, and brought his knees to his face. He muffled his sobs that were filled with guilt and pain, but relief that the girl was still alive, and came back like she promised.

He had to make things right.

But with the way he is now, he’s a little uncertain how to approach her. And the crush thing was long gone. Perhaps already replaced with Abigail over the emptiness.

Maybe he should just stay quite and let time work its wonders.

#stardew-valley-x-reader #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #sebastian (stardew valley)#sebastian x reader #sebastianxreader #reader insert #female farmer #stardew sebastian

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dreamties · 4 years ago

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Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O

A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.

Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)

Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/

I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.

I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu would be the most like into your outfits

Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.

but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit.

it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.

and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements.

like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.

I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.

Now- would you able to get them into it as well?

Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!

so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!

he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!

and on the other hand...

Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol

if you do- somehow- get him to try...

then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course.

“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.

A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.

He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.

for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.

whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).

(my art)

The Lost Boys

the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form??

it’s just too sweet.

they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly

Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.

the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though

all in good fun!

David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories.

Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair.

he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep.

he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.

Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on.

makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time

hair accessories? all of them

would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.

a light, light blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.

you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)

Helen Lyle

she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.

of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.

she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it.

the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.

she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.

she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.

you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.

imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).

if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!

all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.

Daniel Robitaille - Candyman

his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up.

and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.

because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.

Also!!

even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.

so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.

As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.

he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).

but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.

he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.

and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.

things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons.

one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..

two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.

three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.

and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.

you’ve settled on two things.

making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).

and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.

Brahms Heelshire

imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)

and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll?

but like,, in a nice way.

I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!

especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.

and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.

Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.

he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.

because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.

i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.

you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.

You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection.

he does take your stuff sometimes.

it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.

he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.

if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him- so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.

in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own.

Amanda Young

she’s never seen anything like this! :0

everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.

she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.

So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories.

gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!

or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!

and she’s just so happy,, wtf

you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well.

you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.

you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.

if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.

just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch41: Drops Of Jupiter Part 2- There’s Still A Life To Live.

Intro: Pepper finally makes an honest man of Tony, and as the sun sets on, quite possibly, the most horrific year of their lives, the New Year brings a familiar face back into Steve and Katie’s life.

But Tony has some news that puts a smile on his sister’s face. If only her husband was as happy…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Brief mentions of Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: @angrybirdcr I LOVE YOU

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 41 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

October 2018

Despite Katie’s protestations to the contrary, Steve refused to believe that Tony and Pepper actually wanted him at their wedding. She had tried in vain to convince him to go but at times like this he was so stubborn and, ironically, the only man on the planet that could rival him for pig-headedness was Tony himself. So now she was doubly pissed at him. He knew that, and if he hadn’t already he would have certainly guessed it by the way she was currently throwing things into her bag after hardly speaking a word to him since the previous night.

FRIDAY informed her that Happy was here to collect her and Katie closed her small carry case. Steve sighed and went to pick it up for her, fully intending on carrying it to the car, but she beat him to it, swatting his hand away.

“I got it, its fine.” she said a little curtly as she did up her jacket. “Baby, c’mon, don’t leave on a bad note.” He pleaded, following her into the living area. “You know I get that you might think Tony doesn’t want you there, but I do.” Katie’s voice was quiet as she levelled him with a look. “And I was kinda hoping that would be enough to make you swallow your pride for once in your God-damned life” His face fell and the expression on it almost made her relent and apologise.

Almost.

But the Stark stubbornness in her won out and she simply left it at that, slamming the door behind her.

Steve felt like shit. Absolute shit as he stared at the place his wife had been stood a few moments before, the noise of the door banging shut still echoed round his head. With a sigh he swiped at his face with his hands before he headed into the bedroom, changed and wandered down to the gym to work off some frustration.

****

Katie glanced at her reflection. The bridesmaid dress she was wearing was an Alexander McQueen, as was Pepper’s dress, her favourite designer who hadn’t been dusted. It was a deep, burnt gold, almost brown to look at with a hint of a shimmer, perfect Autumn colours. The dress was plain, with a sweetheart neckline, the bodice drawing in her waist and the skirt was floor length, with a slight flare to it. Her hair was twisted up and she wore a white gold headband which was studded with diamonds and pearls, her mom’s necklace that Tony had given to her on her wedding day sat flush to her collar bone. But all that aside, what she really loved was her make-up. It was all autumnal colours, eyes lidded under a burnt orange which had a slight golden shimmer to it setting off her green and amber eyes to perfection, and the contouring was amazing.

Smoothing down her skirt once more, she looked down and stepped into her gold Jimmy Choo heels and stilled as a familiar voice spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

Her head shot up and Steve’s eyes locked onto hers in the mirror before she spun round to face him stood in the doorway.

“I thought you weren’t coming?” She frowned.

“I wasn’t.” He said shyly, stepping into the room “But, after you left yesterday I thought about what you said and you’re right. So I spoke to Pepper and well, here I am.” Katie looked him up and down. He was dressed in his blue suit and underneath it he wore a light green shirt complimented by a tie more or less the same colour as her dress, along with his shiny dark brown oxfords. Exactly the outfit she’d picked for him and left at the front of the closet just in case. With his hair immaculately styled, short stubble impeccably trimmed and a nervous smile on his face, he looked absolutely gorgeous.

“I’m so glad you came.” She smiled, all anger forgotten as she stepped forward and he met her halfway.

“I hate it when we fight.” He muttered, gently kissing her, his strong hands on her back, pulling her to him. “I’m sorry, Doll.”

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” A familiar voice drawled and the pair of them turned to see Natasha leaning in the doorway, two flutes of champagne in her hand. She looked stunning in a knee length figure hugging bottle green dress.

“You look great Nat.” Steve offered, surprised to see a faint tinge of red flushing up the blonde’s neck and cheeks as she uttered a soft thanks before she looked at Katie.

“Came to let you know that Tony’s here.”

Steve took a deep breath.

“Right, erm…” Katie tugged on Steve’s hand and took a glass of champagne off Nat. “Come on.” “Where are we going?” Steve frowned. “To see my brother, the pair of you need to get this out of the way before the ceremony.” “Baby, I-” “Don’t argue with me Steven.” she retorted, leading him down the stairs and out into the Autumn sunshine, across the lawn which was sporting a banquet tent and down the small path which had been lined with a gold carpet. Tony was stood at the end, under the arch which led into the tent where the reception would be held, directing people. As the Weather was nice, the actual ceremony was going to take place at the end of the wooden jetty. People were already settling on chairs on the banks of the lake.

Steve felt, and looked, like a deer in headlights when he caught sight of Tony. Katie squeezed his hand and whispered for him to relax as Tony, who had seen them approaching, started striding over to meet them.

“Well, don’t you look handsome?” Katie said to him, taking in his dark grey formal tail suit, ivory patterned waistcoat and ivory ruffled tie.

“Errm, shouldn’t you be with Pepper?” Tony asked, dropping a kiss to his sister’s cheek. “You look beautiful by the way.” “Thanks. Your gorgeous bride is just having her hair finished off and then I’m going to get her in her dress, but I wanted to come and see you first, we both did.”

“It’s a err, beautiful house.” Steve cleared his throat as he spoke and looked around. He’d never been before, and he felt ridiculously uncomfortable right at that moment for being a complete jerk. He should have done this months ago. "Well, it’s a bit like you Cap.” Tony replied, his eyes locking onto his brother-in-law’s. “Ancient, but nothing a little modernisation couldn’t fix.”

Steve let out a chuckle and took a deep breath. “Tony, listen, I want to apologize. For everything.” He swallowed a little before he continued.“What went down in Siberia was, well it was harsh, and I was out of order. I should have told you about your parents. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Katie held her breath, she knew how much that would have taken for Steve to apologise, so heartfelt as well and she knew he wasn’t doing it just for her. As she stood watching, she saw Tony bristle and she stiffened slightly.

“You should be.” Tony sniffed, but just as Katie was about to chastise him she saw his face soften, “But all that’s in the past now. You know, I get that Barnes wasn’t in control of his actions but I still can’t-” he stopped himself and took another deep breath ”Look, it doesn’t matter now, so let’s just say I understand why you did what you did even if I don’t agree with it. And I’m sorry too, Cap.”

Steve took a deep breath and gave a small smile. “I missed you Tony.”

“Yeah, well, that goes without saying because I’m so incredibly missable” Tony shrugged before he smiled “I missed you too, buddy.”

The two men shook hands before Tony gave a small huff and pulled Steve into a slightly awkward embrace, the two men clapping one another on the back.

Steve felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. As much as he had tried to deny it, Tony was like a brother to him and he had missed him. Plus, he knew how much it had hurt Katie them both being at odds. And he just wanted his wife to be happy and to move forward, past what had happened. As he looked over Tony’s shoulder he saw Katie watching them both, her eyes shining and she mouthed a thank you to him before she cleared her throat.

“Right, now that’s done can I leave him with you whilst I go do Bridesmaid stuff?” She spoke with a smile on her face that her two best boys were finally over their spat.

“Yeah, go ahead, in fact, I have just the job for you,Spangles.” Tony nodded, and the two men strode off, Tony’s hand in between Steve’s shoulder blades as they walked. Steve looked back at his wife as she strode across the lawns to the house before he turned his attention to Tony as they headed towards the lake.

*****

The wedding was beautiful. And whilst he really should have been thinking this about the bride, Steve seriously thought his wife was the most stunning woman there. As she walked down the aisle first, arm linked through Rhodey’s she caught Steve’s eye from where he was sat in between Banner and Natasha and he smiled at her, a genuine smile which she returned. When it was time for Pepper’s entrance, Steve glanced at Tony and couldn’t recall a time where he’d seen the man so happy, so emotional.

The small ceremony was conducted, and it was time for Steve to perform the task Tony had given to him-signing the witness register along with Happy. It was a small gesture, but one which meant a great deal to the Captain.

Then, the rest of the afternoon passed in a bustle of photos, drink, food and speeches. Tony’s was slightly self-indulgent, as always, before he gushed about his new wife. Rhodey told plenty of stories about them growing up, and then it was Katie’s turn.

“As all of you here know, Tony brought me up from the age of seven.” Katie cleared her throat, glancing round at the various faces in the room. “Our parents died and suddenly there he is, twenty-one years old with a business to run and a pain in the ass kid sister to look after.” She scratched at her head. “My childhood was happy, I wanted for nothing, and that was all down to you.” She locked eyes with her brother. “Tony, I don’t tell you this enough, but I really am grateful for everything you did and everything you gave to me, least of all the absolute, unconditional love I have always felt from you. I know we have had our differences but you always told me that you could never be prouder of me if you tried, and I want you to know, that the feeling is mutual. I love you, not just as my brother, but as the best substitute father I could have wished for. And it makes me so happy to see you here today, after everything, with the woman that finally made an honest man out of you.” A few more chuckles, but Tony’s eyes were now wet with tears as he glanced up at her.

“Pepper has been a big part of my life for almost twenty years now, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d be happier with as a sister-in-law. But, you do know what you’ve let yourself in for right?”

Pepper laughed and nodded.

“Good, because he’s your problem now, good luck!”

Katie sat down as the room erupted into laughs and Steve pressed a soft kiss to her lips, gently wiping at her tears before they could ruin her make up.

As the night closed in, the Marquee was strung up with lights and wooden benches giving the place a warm, welcoming ambient feel. Far too soon for Katie’s liking it was time for the first dance. Tony clearly hadn’t told anyone she was performing as many puzzled faces peered up at her as she took the microphone in her hand and cleared her throat with a nod to the keyboard player who struck up the opening notes to Eta James “At Last.”

Tony’s face split into a grin as he offered Pepper his hand and the new Mr and Mrs Stark took to the dance floor, applause and camera flashes filled the tent as Katie sang, watching her brother and his new wife dance closely. In turn, Steve watched his wife, her voice s powerful and sultry, her eyes shining softly as she was watching Tony and Pepper revolve on the dancefloor. And then, as customary, people began to join them and Steve turned to Nat.

“May I have this dance ma’am?”

Natasha studied him for a moment before she smiled and slipped her hand into his, where he took her into a polite hold and steered them around the dancefloor, catching Katie’s eye causing her to smile.

When the song finished everyone turned to her and she flushed a little, giving a shy smile before she cleared her throat. “I’ve got one more.”

Tony frowned as he looked at Pepper who met him with an equally puzzled look, but when the band started to play, Tony’s face slid into a huge smile as Katie winked at him, before she once more began to sing.

“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey…”

As she continued through the verse, Tony looked up at her, his eyes shining as he tossed his arm over Pepper’s shoulders, everyone in the tent gently swaying along to the song, and when the upbeat part kicked in, everyone hit the dance floor again.

Katie was now completely lost in the song that her and her brother had sung together so many times. She allowed the memories to wash over her as she sang, suddenly back in his convertible mustang cruising over the Golden Gate Bridge, then again dancing round in shorts and a bikini by the pool, then she was back in the kitchen, both of them holding wooden spoons to their mouths as make-believe mics. She sang out note after note and as she launched into the final chorus. Tony, who knew the song was coming to a big crescendo had stopped dancing to start winding the crowd up as she belted out the last bit of the song, eyes closed as she dipped slightly, hand extended by her side.

And now you’re lonely looking for yourself out there

The marquee erupted into a cheer and Katie smiled to herself, handing the mic back to the singer of the band who thanked her, drawing another cheer from the crowd. Steve walked forward and offered his hand to his wife to help her walk down the small steps from the stage.

“You amaze me every single day you know that?” His lips brushed her ear as the band struck up into a soul song and he led her towards the bar for a drink. She beamed at him, cheeks flushing from the singing and the adrenaline that had been pulsing through her veins at the fact she’d been stood on a stage, singing in front of a group of people for the first time since she could remember. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and she moved her head to catch his lips softly.

“Kiddo?”

At that she spun to face Tony, who didn’t say another word, simply pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight, kissing the side of her head. She held him back, happily resting her head against his shoulder until he eventually released her, and then turned to head off over the dance floor to greet someone else.

“I saw you dancing with Nat.” Katie slid her hands up Steve’s chest as he ordered a beer and a gin and tonic, his jacket and tie now discarded on one of the chairs behind him.

“Jealous?” He arched an eyebrow, his hand settling on her hips.

“Not in the slightest.” Her hands connecting round his neck. “I thought it was one of the sweetest things you could have done. She’s been so down lately.” “She seems okay tonight.” Steve turned, watching the woman in question as she stood talking to Bruce. “Maybe she just needed reminding that there’s still life to be lived.” “That’s very philosophical of you, Captain.”

“I have my moments.” He grinned, looking back down at Katie, his hand on her hip pulling her closer. “Are you still staying here tonight or coming home?” “Undecided.” She teased, her hands resting on his chest, muscles broad and tense under her fingers.

“Well if you come back with me I’ll do that thing you like.” His short beard scratched her cheek as he spoke softly into her ear.

“That’s blackmail.”

Smirking, he kissed her softly. “I know.”

She did go home with him, and Steve was about as gentle and tender that night as she could ever remember him being. His lips were soft as he made sure to cherish every single part of her body. His hips rolled against hers, keeping them locked together, hands entwined together as he gently pinned them at either side of her head, eyes locked onto hers as he took her apart, piece by piece.

They lay there afterwards, Katie’s head resting in its favourite place on his chest, his hand gently running up and down her spine as she slept. Resting his head against hers, he closed his eyes on what had been a pretty amazing day in all honestly. He and Tony were back on an even keel, and being surrounded by people at the wedding, he couldn’t help but marvel at the love, friendship and happiness that had been present at the event.

He hadn’t ever thought he’d see it again on that scale after the snap, and it gave him faith that, just like he had said earlier, there was still a good life to be lived.

*******

January 2019.

Steve pulled his jacket collar up against the snow and trudged across the car park towards the store entrance. A soft, white blanket covered the cars that lay abandoned after the snap, something he knew that the Government was going to have to sort at some point. Heading into the shop, he noted that it was reasonably busy compared to how it had been the last time he’d popped in a few weeks ago. He supposed that was a good sign. Grabbing a basket he headed straight for what they needed- milk, eggs, bread, bacon, fabric softener and tampons. Okay, so the last weren’t what they needed, obviously, more what Katie needed. She’d laughed when she had given him the list, remarking that this was the first time she’d ever sent him shopping for shit like this before offering to go instead, but he was a modern man now, they’d been together for almost six years, married for over three, he could deal with buying his wife tampons, right?

Now he was making a mental note, as some woman was slyly eyeing him as he grabbed a box, to remind his wife it’s a fucking good job he loves her as much as he does.

He whizzed around picking up the rest of the stuff and was heading to the till when he heard a loud shout. Spinning round on autopilot he saw one of the security guards chasing someone, a kid dressed in a pair of dirty jeans, a jacket that was far too thin for the weather, and a baseball cap, down the aisle. Steve let out a sigh. Shoplifting and petty crime had rocketed as people struggled to make ends meet following The Decimation. As the kid neared him he gently held out an arm to stop them passing and the child, a girl, gave a loud yell and looked up at him angrily.

Instantly his heart leapt into his throat. Granted, it was a few years since he had seen her at the last Stark Christmas Party, but he’d recognise those large, deep brown eyes anywhere.

“Gerrroffff me!”

“Emmy?” He frowned, and she paused her struggling to look up at him and he removed his hat. “It’s me. Steve.” “I know you are.” She blinked, and then began to struggle again.

“Stop it.” He instructed, voice full of authority and he turned to the security guard. “What’s the problem here?”

“Caught her down the aisle back there, shoving packs of chocolate and chips into her backpack.”

“Has she actually committed a crime yet?” Steve asked. “I mean, nothing has left the store. If I pay for it…” “No but she was gonna!” “But she hasn’t actually?” The security guard let out a groan. “Look pal, you’ve no idea what it’s like trying to keep this place straight.” “Oh believe me Sir, I do.” Steve mumbled, before he glanced down at Emmy. She was small, her dark, ebony hair was dirty and knotted, and her olive-skinned cheeks were pinched like she needed a good meal. He looked up at the man. “I’ll pay for the items and then ensure she’s dealt with.” “Dealt with?” The Security guard frowned before he looked at Steve properly and then his eyes widened “Holy shit, you’re Captain-” Steve cut him off, holding his hand up. “I assume that’s an acceptable proposition?”

“Of course Captain Rogers.” He nodded. Steve shook the man’s hand and then turned to Emmy.

“Give me the bag.”

She looked up at him before she sighed, handing it over. Steve tipped it out onto the conveyor belt at the till. A few bars of Hershey, some kettle chips, toothpaste, soap.

“Have you been on your own since, well, since it happened?” He asked and Emmy shrugged.

“Foster parents both dusted. Not that I care like, they were horrible. Better on my own.” Steve stiffened slight as he handed over some cash to the assistant. He studied Emmy as she packed her things into her bag. He couldn’t leave her like this.

“No one’s better on their own.” He shook his head. “Listen, I’ll give you two choices. You either come back to the compound with me for something decent to eat, or I can take you to one of the shelters.” “And if I refuse to do either?”

“Okay, three options.” Steve raised an eyebrow at her sass. “I turn you back over to Mall Cop over there and you can be handed into the police.”

Emmy snorted at his film reference before she looked down and plucked at something on her coat. “Is Katie…” “Yeah, she’s there.”

“Suppose coming to see her wouldn’t be so bad.” The small girl shrugged. Steve smiled, picked up the bag of groceries and gently went to place a hand between her shoulder blades, to steer her towards the car, but he stopped dead when she flinched violently to his touch.

“Hey, its okay.” he said gently. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She looked at him, with an expression that made her look far older than her years and rolled her eyes whilst giving a snort. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

*****

Lucky alerted Katie to Steve’s return home as he shot off the couch next to her and headed to the door before it even opened. Katie glanced over the back of the sofa and did a double take as Steve headed in with a familiar face in tow.

“Emmy?” She gasped, getting up off the sofa. The girl smiled a little and allowed Katie to pull her into a hug “What are you doing here?” “He kidnapped me.” Emmy glowered at Steve who rolled his eyes as she stood up from where he had crouched down to greet Lucky.

“That’s crap Emmy and you know it.” He said sternly as he turned to Katie. “She was stealing.”

“Don’t look at me like that, it was that or starve.” Emmy shrugged.

“Starve? What? Wait, have you been-” Katie let out a groan as she realised the implications of what the kid was saying. “Oh, honey you should have found someone, got help!” “Better on my own.” Emmy repeated her earlier sentiment, kicking the floor with her dirty trainers. “And you can’t keep me here ya’ know?”

Katie looked down at the girl. She would be ten now, but she looked a lot smaller than she should be for her age. Katie glanced up at Steve who nodded to the kitchen.

“Listen, I was gonna cook dinner so at least stay for some food?” She asked. Emmy shrugged.

“Suppose so, what we having?”

“Pot roast.”

“Got any mash?” The girl’s eyes lit up and for a brief second Katie saw the cheeky little kid she had last seen a few years back.

“I can do mash.”

“Okay I’ll stay.” Emmy agreed before she looked at them both, a little sheepishly “Could I have some hot chocolate, like they used to do at the parties, please?”

“Sure I can manage that.” Katie smiled.

After settling her on the sofa, Lucky jumping up beside her, Katie retreated into the kitchen and gently shut the door before she set about making Emmy the hot chocolate she had requested.

“What happened?” Katie looked at Steve who sighed, crossing his arm.

“The Security guard at the store was chasing her after he caught her stealing.” Steve shook his head “She’s been on her own since the snap, said her foster family all disappeared.” “Shit.” Katie sighed stirring the cocoa powder and a square of chocolate into the hot milk.

“Yeah but,” Steve gently moved to hand Katie the marshmallows out of the cupboard, “she said something odd, about her being better on her own and she practically jumped out of her skin when I touched her. When I told her I wasn’t gonna hurt her, she said ‘that’s what they all say’”

Katie’s hand slipped at little as she contemplated Steve’s words, and she reached for a cloth to wipe up the liquid she had spilt. “You don’t think…” “I don’t know.” Steve sighed “But I couldn’t just leave her.” “No, course not.” Katie shook her head, reaching up to touch his face. “Just one of the many things I love about you, Rogers.”

He gave a soft smile. “I thought maybe we could give her a good meal, get her cleaned up and she could stay here tonight whilst we can figure out what to do.” Steve shrugged. His wife smiled at him, and grabbing the mug, she stood on her toes and gave him a kiss.

“You know,” she said, opening the door to the kitchen, “you might not be Captain America anymore but you’re still a hero.”

The three ate dinner and then Katie convinced Emmy to have a shower and, after digging her out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, settled her down in the spare room, promising her that neither of them were mad at her. Once she was convinced the eleven year old was asleep she dumped Emmy’s disgusting clothes in the washing machine, before she headed into the living room and snuggled down next to Steve who had poured her a glass of wine.

“She okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Out like a light.” Katie sighed “I’m so glad you found her.”

Steve sighed a little. “She looked so lost. I can’t believe she’s been on her own for so long.” “Yeah well not anymore.” Katie scratched at her nose. “This is exactly why we need to sort those homes out. I mean there are hundreds of kids out there like that.” Steve nodded and took a long pull from his beer.

“Just seems so shitty.” Katie carried on “That she’s had two foster homes now and, ok, the last one doesn’t sound like it was so great, but we’re gonna shove her back in a home and…” She trailed off, tears in her eyes. “She deserves so much better, they all do.”

“Well,” Steve turned his head to look at her. “I’m sure you’ll make sure she has a good place for when she has to leave.” Katie stayed silent for a moment, before she took a deep breath and decide to just go for it and voice what was on her mind. “What if she doesn’t?”

“Doesn’t what?”

“Leave”

“What, you mean, she stays here?”

“Would that be so bad?” Katie asked, “I just, I dunno, Steve, I can’t…” She trailed off, simply looking at him, a hopeful expression on her face that made Steve want to kiss the life out of her. He knew she loved the little girl, she’d always had a soft spot for her. And would fostering a kid for the time being be such a bad idea? It would mean changes, a lot of changes and they would be inheriting an eleven year old, with an attitude to boot. But, they had the room and Natasha was always on hand as well…

Maybe this was just another little way they could give something back.

“Why don’t we ask her tomorrow?” Steve suggested. “If she wants to stay then maybe we can look at it, at least until something else turns up.” “You mean that?” Katie looked up at him and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

With a teary smile she shifted so she knelt up and reached to gently cup his jawline with her fingers.

“Thank you.” she kissed him softly.

***** Of course Emmy wanted to stay. And, after a fortnight of her being at the compound, Katie and Steve made the enquiry into fostering her on a more official basis, which was easier than it would have been pre-snap, officials keen to rehouse children with people that were willing to take them in.

The first month was full of teething problems. Emmy had refused to go back to the house she had been living in, screaming blue murder when Steve had suggested they collect her things. So Katie had taken her out shopping for clothes and bits and pieces that she needed. Then she had refused to try anything on in the changing rooms. Ever patient, and recognising the signs of trauma and panic, Katie had calmed her down and told her they would simply take the clothes home to try on there, and that it wasn’t a big deal.

It transpired, after a tearful confession later in her room, Emmy was simply frightened that they would see the marks on her back left by the belt her foster father had hit her with and she had broken down, Katie simply laying with her until she fell asleep.

The girl also had nightmares, and would often wake up screaming, but wouldn’t let Steve anywhere near her to comfort her. He didn’t take it personally, not after he knew what she had gone through with her foster father, but it did upset him somewhat to think that she could be afraid of him. As time went by she became a lot more comfortable around him, but still wasn’t really happy with any physical contact from anyone bar Katie. Steve simply respected her boundaries, Katie assuring that she would come round eventually.

Emmy found a friend in Natasha, the young girl spending a fair bit of time with the woman, often Steve would find them in the gym, Natasha teaching her some boxing move or other. Steve wasn’t completely sure it was a very good idea, but he left them to it as Emmy would come back to the apartment gushing about what she had learnt, keen to show them both her ‘moves’ as she called them. It was those moments that they both enjoyed, the signs of a cheeky young, innocent girl flashed through and it made Steve’s heart swell to see her coming out of her shell more and more.

Maybe more surprising, however, was how much she took to Tony. Katie said it was because they were the same mental age, which Pepper had vehemently agreed with. But Steve thought it was because Tony simply treat her like he would anyone else with his usual sarcasm and bluntness and she was fascinated by anything the inventor would show her when they visited the lake house. Turns out she had a real knack for technology, and the two of them set about on a project, building a small remote control robot which Lucky wasn’t quite so sure about as the dog would run away, bark, come back, and run away again whilst Emmy cackled away from her vantage point on the stairs where she controlled it.

Alongside this, Katie was still working on setting up homes for other kids through SIDE, and when she came home saying that there was a place for Emmy at the most recent one, the Rogers were both forced to face the reality that, whilst they had meant the fostering to be a temporary arrangement, neither of them wanted Emmy to be placed back into care.

So at the end of April, they made the fostering arrangement permanent.

Which was why Steve now found himself in a hardware store with a ridiculously hyper young girl, picking out a colour to paint her bedroom in.

“I don’t want pink.” Emmy frowned, looking at the colour chart on the wall.

“Well, what do you want?” Steve asked patiently.

“Purple. I think. Maybe a lilac.” “Okay there are some over there.” he nodded and she crossed the aisle to study the colour.

“I think I like this one.”

Steve nodded. “Good choice,” before he found the tin with the correct shade in and dropped four onto the trolley. “Alright, that’s that done.” He turned to look at her “You wanted a new lamp too?”

“I don’t need one…”

“No, I know, but you wanted one.”

Emmy’s face lit up and she nodded so they headed over to the light display. Her eyes went wide as she made her way straight over to a tall lamp, the shade of which was decorated with tiny, silver stars.

“I love it.” She said gently. Steve nodded, picked a boxed one up off the shelf and dropped it onto the flat bed trolley.

“That was easy.” He smiled.

“Please can I get some fairy lights for round my bed?” Emmy asked timidly “We told you kid, whatever you want, well, within reason.”

With another face-splitting smile, Emmy selected some fairy lights. And a rug. And a few new cushions. And a throw. And a new bed for Lucky who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her room when she was in there. Several hours and a couple of hundred bucks later they were on their way home after Steve had been cajoled into taking a detour through the drive-through for a burger.

“Hey!” Katie greeted as they walked through the door, Emmy carrying the cushions, Steve lugging everything else “Wow, you buy the whole store?”

“Is it too much?” Emmy asked, nervously “We can…” “No, I’m teasing, honey!” Katie chuckled, dropping a kiss onto her head. There was a moment and then Emmy burst into tears.

“Okay,” Katie sighed, taking her hand “Come on.”

Steve watched, feeling slightly useless, as he couldn’t help comfort the girl. He followed as Katie led her to the couch and he sat on the arm chair as Katie patiently sat Emmy down and waited until she had stopped sobbing. Lucky jumped up beside her and pushed his face into hers, licking away her tears as she wound her hands into the dog’s sandy coloured fur.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Katie assured her “Do you wanna talk about it?” “I’ve never had nice things.” The little girl wringed her hands together and looked up at Katie from underneath wet eyelashes. “And when I did, then my foster brothers would break them and then he would hit me because I didn’t look after them.” She never used her foster father’s name. It was always he or him. Steve clenched his fists and felt the nerve tick in his jaw as he fought back the urge to go on a rant about the asshole.

“You know we would never hurt you Emmy.”He leaned forward, fighting the urge to reach out and tuck the hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. “And no one else is gonna hurt you whilst you’re here.”

She wiped her eyes and gave a small sniffle. “I know.”

“So, how about we dry those tears and you help me make dinner?” Katie looked at her “Whilst Steve-O puts your things in your room.”

Steve let out a playful groan as Emmy giggled. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that.” Katie stuck out her tongue as he rolled his eyes and stood up, slapping his thighs with his hands. “The pair of you are a monumental pain in my ass.” “Language!” Emmy shot back as she smirked at him and he gave a snort, picking up the items they’d bought and taking them into her room.

Whilst they were in the kitchen, Steve set about fixing up her lamp, the fairy lights, tossed the new throw and cushions they had bought on her bed and set the remote for the flat-screen TV they had had installed on the wall on her nightstand. He called the girls to come and look and Emmy’s face was a picture, her eyes lighting up as she saw her room. She glanced around and looked at Steve, then to Katie, then back again.

“We can start painting over the weekend-” Steve began but was cut off when the girl threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her forehead to the top part of his stomach. Steve paused for a moment before his hand gently fell to the back of Emmy’s head as he stooped and gave her a hug back, looking up at Katie who was smiling from her vantage point in the doorway.

“She’ll come round in time…”

His wife’s voice echoed around his head as he dropped a soft kiss to the top of Emmy’s head and smiled.

That was just another time in a long list of instances his wife had been right.

***** Chapter 42 Part 1

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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omiluvbug · 4 years ago

Text

Office Hours (Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader oneshot)

This oneshot can be viewed on AO3 and Wattpad too!

You woke up at around 6:30 am as the sun's rays peeked through the shallow gaps in the curtains by your window. This created soft rays of light traveling through the room, basking the plain white walls in soft hues of orange and yellow. You patted the bed as you looked for your alarm clock which blared an overly obnoxious sound.

Groaning, you got up, your hair a tangled mess as well as your patterned pajamas. You threw your blanket to the side as you stretched out her limbs. You contemplated on whether to stay in bed or go to work. You didn't really want to go to work today. Just the thought of you sitting down at your boring table for 8 hours doesn't seem that much exciting. You'd rather stay at home and curl up in your chair by the window, looking out to a nice view of the city.

However, you couldn't really risk getting scolded so early in the morning in front of a lot of people. Just the thought of it deeply embarrassed you. Sighing, you got up and lazily fixed your queen-sized bed, throwing pillows on top of another and draping the blanket over the comforter.

You quickly did her morning routine—washing your face and brushing your teeth, then changing into your usual office attire and applying some makeup. Afterwards, you quickly fixed your hair before going to the kitchen to prepare a small breakfast. You scrolled through her phone as you ate, laughing slightly at ridiculous posts of some strangers on the internet.

You liked these kinds of moments; moments where you would usually be just by yourself in the morning, enjoying your breakfast as you looked through her phone, or listening to songs as you made food or cleaned the house. It was mundane for sure, just a normal day-to-day living, but it provided you a sense of comfort, even just for a little bit.

"Oh crap!" You quickly jumped to your feet as you noticed the time. You didn't realize that you were on your phone for far too long. If you don't get out of the house now, you'll miss your train. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder as you wore whatever colored pump you could find. You then dashed through the door, making your way towards the train station which was a 10 minute walk away from home.

"Woah there, careful," Said a man with long hair tied into a bun and bangs perfectly framing his face. His hands were on your arm, preventing you from tripping on the boxes on the floor. He wore deep navy pants with the jacket loosely hanging from his arm. Two buttons of his white dress shirt were opened, making you look elsewhere.

"We don't want anyone tripping over these boxes now, don't we?" He implied, looking at you as if he was waiting for some sort of response. "You alright there, Y/N?"

"My apologies, Mr. Getou!" You said, your eyes wide open and your lips slightly agape. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I—"

Getou chuckled, waving a dismissive hand in front of you. "It's alright, dear." He bent down to pick the stray boxes up before placing them on top of a random table. He then looked at his watch, his eyebrows rising. "You better get to where you're going if you don't want to be scolded. CEO's a handful when he's mad."

Flashing you another smile, Getou began walking away and disappeared into a nearby hallway. Suguru Getou is the operations manager of the company, responsible for hiring new staff members and training them, as well as monitoring personnel documentation, to name a few. He works alongside Satoru Gojo who deals with financial statistics of the company.

"Yuji! Hurry up!" You turned and saw three unfamiliar faces walking in the hallway. Two of them were boys, while one of them was a girl with orange colored hair and a frown on her face. She wore a pastel pink suit with a white dress shirt underneath. They looked young, and perhaps maybe a little bit out of place.

"It's your damn fault we're running late!" She hissed, glaring at the boy with pink hair and lightly hitting him with her bag. The boy stuck his tongue out like a little kid, causing the lady to scoff.

"Me? Blame Megumi! He's the one who stopped at a nearby park just to pet the dogs and won't leave until he called each one of them 'good girls' and 'good boys!'"

"Leave me out of this," the other boy said grumpily, shaking his head as he walked away and left the two.

"Interns! Right here!" Ijichi called, calling the attention of the three. The three rushed towards the man, the girl's coffee almost spilling along the way.

Ah, so that's why they were unfamiliar to you, they're interns. You smiled a bit as you looked at the three playfully bickering while following Ijichi. It reminded you of your friends way back in high school. Suddenly, you wondered how they were doing. You're not much in contact with them these days as everyone is busy with their own lives. Besides, they weren't making much of an effort on trying to contact you anyway.

"Get going, lady. These hallways are not the place to hang around, no?" said Satoru Gojo, who was followed by Shoko Ieri, the team's assistant manager. Shoko was quick to slap the man's bicep, scolding him for being so rude so early in the morning.

"Alright, geez. My bad." Gojo's hands were in his pockets as he walked, his head casually tipping to the side as he looked at the woman before her before paying attention to you. He was wearing his usual black sunglasses. Why he wore it inside the building was something you didn’t know the reason for. "Good Morning, Y/N."

"Good Morning," You greeted back, causing the man to grin and the lady to smile.

"I see you're running late today." There was a teasing tone evident in his voice. He was going to say something more when Shoko tugged him closer, shaking her head and widening her eyes at him.

"Right, well," Gojo stuttered, gently removing Shoko's hand from his bicep. "See ya around, Y/N!" They began walking away, muttering something amongst themselves. You even caught a glimpse of Gojo looking back at you and chuckling which left you confused. What was that about?

Perhaps everyone was running late today. It was quite understandable as it was Monday. You spotted a few people rushing inside the building as you clocked in. You placed your card back to the holder before making your way to the 5th floor, where you usually do her work. You were in the Public Relations Department, mostly coordinating public events for the company, helping in gaining favorable media coverage, and maintaining the company's relationship with investors among others.

As you arrived at her floor, you quickly made your way towards your table and placed your bag on the chair before throwing away the crumbled paper you failed to discard the day before. You greeted your coworkers as you didn't want to seem rude.

The floor was brightly lit because of the huge windows that enabled natural light to pass through the transparent material. The floor was tiled and there were gorgeous wood accents plastered on the wall. Wood wall dividers were also used to separate the work space from the couch—where the employees would usually sit down during breaks to chat or wind down. And instead of cubicles, there were tables, allowing the employees to easily talk to each other when needed.

"Good morning! Here's some morning newspapers, Y/N." The head of the PR Department, Iori Utahime, greeted you with a smile. "Morning assembly meeting starts in a few minutes. We're just waiting for the CEO."

"He's running late too, Ms. Utahime?" You wondered why, but then you remembered that the CEO had a very important business meeting to attend over the weekend in Osaka.

"Seems like everyone is. It's a monday after all." She clapped her hands behind her back, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "I almost missed my train earlier! I had to run out of the house with bread in my mouth while fixing my hair."

You looked at the lady before you. She doesn't look disheveled, infact, she looked presentable as always. Her hair was combed nicely and was in a half-up half-down updo—she even had a little bow tied on her hair which you thought was quite adorable. Her white dress shirt and red pencil skirt was tailored to her body perfectly, leaving no unflattering gaps in the material.

"Good thing I made it in time though," she added as she mindlessly twirled a strand of hair on her hands. "I regret binge watching that drama last night."

You scrunched her face, knowing the feeling of staying up all night and regretting it the following morning. Utahime laughed, finding your reaction cute, before she patted your shoulders before bidding you a short goodbye. She went to the other's tables, greeting them a good morning and asking them about their plans for the day.

As you waited for the meeting to begin, you turned your desktop on and browsed through the emails. You frowned upon seeing some spam mails and quickly discarded them to the bin. You made a mental note to tell the head director that a certain investor wanted to make some changes with some of the deals. After that, you then skimmed through your newspaper, catching up on news that she might have missed over the weekend.

Soon, it was 9 am and the morning assembly meeting started. You stood up straight as their CEO, Kento Nanami, entered the floor alongside his trusty secretary, Yu Haibara, as well as a few other people. All eyes followed him as he walked towards the front of the room. You almost missed it, but the three interns were with them too, following Ijichi like they're lost puppies.

The CEO's face was stern, yet he returned the smiles the other employees gave him. Your breath hitched when you two made eye contact, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nanami briefly smiled at you before turning his attention back to the other employees. However, the lingering feeling stayed with you. Oh my god.

It almost felt silly feeling butterflies over a brief eye contact. You were already an adult yet you still act like a lovestruck high school student whenever you meet eyes with your crush. However, you accepted the way you felt around Nanami. He was intelligent, polite, poised, extremely good-looking, and a gentleman.

You couldn't help but to sigh. What was there to not swoon over for? He's literally the real deal.

You noticed that he was more casual with the way he dressed today. Rather than his usual cream-colored suit paired with a blue dress shirt underneath and his partnered tie, he wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his expensive watch on one hand and toned arms. He paired it with a pair of off-white tapered pants. His hair was slicked back, with a few loose strands of hair he had to brush up every now and then. His shoes were perfectly polished too, clanking ever so softly as he took a step.

Perhaps Kento Nanami was one of the reasons why you still chose to attend your job so early in the morning.

"Good morning." His voice was authoritative yet still soft and gentle. You even noticed the soft giggles some female employees let out upon hearing his voice. You chuckled as you shook your head. You couldn't really blame them for being giddy over him. Almost everyone is.

A chorus of hello's and good morning's were heard. Nanamin went through some announcements and important matters to discuss, mainly about increasing customer satisfaction rate and the like. He also talked about the short business trip he went to over the weekend and disclosed some information about future plans for a major project. At the same time, the department heads reported what plans they'll be doing for the rest of the day. Haibara happily took notes on his iPad, trying his hardest not to miss any important information.

"Very well," Nanami spoke, the attention once again turning to him. He acknowledged the effort each department had and thanked them for their hard work. This definitely boosted the morale of the employee seeing the smile and grins on their faces.

Nanami leaned a bit on the table, his arms crossed over his chests. He made eye contact with you one more time before turning his attention to the man beside him. "Ijichi, if you will. Thank you."

Ijichi nodded and walked forward, a kind smile evident on his face. A few coworkers giggled a bit, finding the man's actions kind of adorable.

"Good morning," he greeted. "As you may all know, fall internships have already begun. Here we have three students from The University of Tokyo who will be seeking our guidance for the rest of the year."

He then gestured to the interns to start introducing themselves. The first one to do so was the lady wearing a pastel pink suit. She had a genuine smile on her face rather than the frown she had earlier in the morning. You thought that she was pretty—very fashionable too.

"Good morning! I'm Kugisaki Nobara and I'm 21 years old. Please take good care of me! I humbly seek your guidance!"

"Um." The next up was the boy with pink hair. He was quite charming to say the least; very bubbly and smiley much like the lady. "I'm Yuji Itadori. 20 years old, and I look forward to working with you all! Please go easy on me!"

Finally, the boy with dark hair spoke. He was quite shy and kind of stoic at first glance. "I'm Megumi Fushiguro. I'm 20 years old and I'm looking forward to working with you all too. Please guide us well… and I would like to apologize in advance for all the troubles these two might cause."

The two intern's mouth went agape and a few other employees let out a chuckle. The employees then politely clapped for the three. Even Nanami did too and you couldn't help to notice the small smile forming on his lips—as if he was already growing fond of the interns. This made you smile too. You had always liked having interns around. Just last fall, other students interned in this company as well and you could still vividly remember how rowdy and lively the lot were. Two of them were from UTokyo, while the others were from KyotoU.

After the morning assembly meeting, the employees went back to their desks. You took a quick detour to the pantry to brew yourself some coffee before going back to her table. As you sat down, you folded the newspapers and kept them in your drawer as you were already finished reading them. Then, you went back to work.

The office was fairly quiet during working hours. Everyone was busy typing away on their keyboards to even spare the other employees a glance. It reminded you of libraries from school.

You reached out for your drink and frowned when you noticed that it was already empty. It was finished already? You didn’t even notice that the time was passing by so quickly. You contemplated on whether you should get up and brew some more, but you were already getting comfortable in your chair and didn't want to move an inch.

As if on cue, Gojo tapped your desk, making you turn to his direction. He had a cup of warm drink in his hands and grinned at her. You raised her eyebrow at him, confused with his sudden appearance. Usually he'll be on the third floor, supervising his department, or on the sixth floor, hanging out with other directors.

"A delivery for you, my lady." He put the warm drink down on her table and before you could even ask him why he gave it to you, he was already walking towards the elevator.

Frowning, you looked at the cup. Written on it was your favorite drink and a name that made your cheeks flush red. You covered half of your face, glaring at Gojo who was grinning as he waited for the elevator door to close. Grabbing your post-it from your desk, you covered the name written on your cup. Clicking your tongue, you went back to work and tried to bury the embarrassing feeling brewing inside you.

When lunch time came, you decided to go to a nearby restaurant with a few other employees. You and your coworkers settled on a table near the door by the big windows. As you sat down, your attention was diverted towards the door, where the CEO and his secretary stood. They seemed to be looking for someone as their eyes trailed around the restaurant.

"Nanamin!" Gojo called, not even addressing the man properly. The white-haired man waved his arms around, catching a few people's attention. Getou, Shoko, and Utahime, who were with him, just shook their heads as they ate their food, as if pretending that they didn’t know him.

Nanami was about to approach them until he locked eyes with you once again. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you noticed him approaching your table, Haibara following behind him. Your coworkers didn't seem to notice the CEO until he cleared his throat.

"Ah! Mr. Nanami!" The man before you stuttered. Nanami just offered him a kind smile before gesturing him to sit down.

"Is it alright if I ate with you today?" He asked and the others nodded. Well, they didn't really have that much of a choice—who would turn down someone like Nanami?

It was as if the universe was in your favor. Nanami pulled the seat beside you and sat on it, your knees subtly brushing against each other as he fixed his posture. However, he didn't seem to mind as he conversed with your coworkers. Haibara, who sat at the head of the table, sneakily glanced between you and Nanami, biting his lips as he tried to hide his smile.

The others then decided to begin ordering their own meals. However, you still don't know what to get. Maybe Nanami sitting beside you was a little bit distracting, and maybe he kind of knew it based on the small smiles he lets slip past his mouth every now and then.

"Ms. L/N?"

"Y-yes?" You turned to Nanami, heat rising to your cheeks.

You stared into his brown eyes. It reminded you of autumn for some reason. It was kind of fitting for someone like him, you concluded; a bit cold, but still makes you feel comfort and warmth. Maybe one of the reasons why Nanami reminded you of autumn so much is because naturally, the autumn season has a kind of romantic aspect to it. Perhaps it was the scenarios you think of with him before heading to bed, or maybe because you were actually falling deeply for him, but you couldn't help but to think that maybe, Nanami has a romantic side to him too.

You didn't realize that you were staring at him for far too long until you heard his soft chuckle. Looking away, you tried to compose yourself. However, the butterflies in your stomach seem to flutter more and more as they hear the wonderful song that is Nanami's voice.

"Are you good to order? I can line up to the counter for you," he offered.

It was embarrassing honestly, making a total fool of yourself in front of such a respectable man like him. "Um… no, it's fine, Mr. Nanami."

"Is [favorite food] and [favorite drink] alright?" He asked, standing up and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket.

You could only nod as he made his way towards the counter, catching up to Haibara and a few other employees. You were the only one left on the table, which gave you a responsibility to secure it. Not that you mind.

"So!" You nearly jumped when you heard Gojo Satoru beside you. How he managed to sneak up on you from the other side of the restaurant was something you don't know. He shamelessly sat himself on the chair beside you, which was previously occupied by Nanami. "You and Nanami, huh?"

"What?" You stuttered, completely baffled by his statement. The man just leaned back on his chair, causally tipping back a bit. "Pardon me but what are you talking about, Mr. Gojo?"

"Gojo is fine." The man scrunched his nose. "You're making me sound like an old man. I hate it."

You purse your lips, considering his statement. It seems like he didn't really mind dropping the honorifics that much. He leaned back further on his chair, propping his sunglasses on top of his head.

"You know," he began, looking over at Nanami's direction. "Nanami usually never dines with employees. I know you saw me call him over earlier, but he didn't hesitate one bit on walking towards your direction when you made eye contact." He then clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow at you. "Which makes me conclude that what I wrote on your cup earlier was true. Am I right?"

You honestly didn't know what to say. He had a teasing grin on his face, much wider than the one he had earlier in the morning. He crossed his arms against his chest, silently urging you to spill it out already.

"I believe that seat was taken." Nanami came back with a tray with both your orders in his hands. The others were still by the counter, waiting for their turn.

Gojo whistled before standing up. "My apologies," he uttered, patting Nanami at the shoulder. "Pardon me for intruding on your little date."

You were expecting Nanami to deny his claim, but the blond didn't say anything. Instead, he calmly placed your order in front of you before sitting down. It was evident that he was ignoring Gojo, which caused the white-haired man to chuckle and shake his head. Gojo then gave you a wink before heading back to his table.

"Was he bothering you?" Nanami asked and you shook your head.

"No… not really." Nanami gave you a look, as if he wasn't buying it. "I'm fine really, Mr. Nanami. Thanks for your concern."

You gave him a smile and Nanami subtly returned one back. He was about to say something else when the other employees arrived, preventing him from doing so. Nanami cleared his throat and began eating, occasionally looking at you from time-to-time.

"Finally! I’m going home!" You yawned, stretching a bit on your chair. A few employees have already gone home as they finished their job a bit early. Breezily, you gathered all your valuables and placed them in your bag. Then, you decluttered your table before grabbing your coat and putting it on.

It was a 10 minute walk from the company to the nearest train station. The train was definitely cramped since it was getting kind of late. Students were seated on the chair, other employees were busy on their phones or reading a newspaper, and others were dozing off.

You sighed, wanting to get home as early as you could so you could jump into a nice warm bath and maybe even make yourself a nice dinner and watch a good show. It was a bit chilly at night too, so you'll sure be snuggling up to your bed, with multiple blankets laid on top of you.

Even though all of these things sound amazing, there is something else that you're looking forward to. You covered your mouth as you tried to hide a smile—you didn't want to get weird looks from other people, thinking you're out of your mind or something.

You unlocked the door of your apartment and made your way inside. You left your bag and shoes by the door as you took your coat off and hung it on the coat rack. You wore your indoor slippers before walking to the bathroom to take your makeup off.

As you did so, you grabbed your phone and played some music. You then turned the bath faucet on and waited for it to be the right temperature before stripping off and lowered yourself in the tub. You then made sure to tie your hair up, preventing it from getting wet.

The warm water soothed your sore muscles. You instantly felt at ease. This is exactly what you needed—a nice relaxing night after a long hard day at work. Humming to yourself, you sank further into the tub, letting the water reach up to your shoulders. You giggled as you played with the bubbles, making random shapes and drawing silly little soap faces on your legs.

Deep in your own moment, you didn't hear the opening of the main door nor the shoes being placed inside the shoe cabinet right beside yours. You didn't hear the leather bag being placed on top of the kitchen table nor the knock on the bathroom door. However, you did hear the door knob turning and the footsteps of the man walking towards you.

"Good evening, darling." Your husband, Kento Nanami, greeted you. He seated on the edge of the tub, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes. He looked tired, but still handsome. He tucked a hair behind your ear and you instantly leaned into his touch. He chuckled, holding your cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin.

"Welcome home, Kento." You smiled, making his heart swoon. Despite being with him for the most of the day, you missed him.

Nanami placed a kiss on the crown of your head, making you sigh happily and giggle. "Would it be alright if I joined you?"

You nodded. Nanami had always been a man of consent. He always asks before approaching you. He had also always put you first before himself. He had always pampered you, cared for you, and made sure that you'll feel the love that you deserve. He was a very sweet guy, really—charming, dreamy . Perhaps you were one lucky girl to have someone like him in your life.

"I noticed you wore our wedding ring to work today," he said as he took his shirt off. He then began unbuckling his belt, making you look away. You had already seen his body multiple times, but it still makes your cheeks heat up. Nanami chuckled as he saw your reaction. You were adorable.

He placed a hand on your back as he guided you to move forward, making some room for him. He leaned back as you settled in between his legs, letting you rest your back on his chest. He draped his hands around you, softly caging you in his arms as he leaned his cheek on the top of your head.

"Well I liked the look of it on my fingers," you answered. "I noticed you wore it too… the other day."

Nanami hummed, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. It's not like you weren't proud of being married. Rather than that, it was merely just because Nanami wanted to see how long it would take for his employees to notice that he was, in fact, already someone else’s spouse. He had been subtly hinting it to others too—small bouquet of flowers on your table during special occasions (birthdays and anniversaries), simple random gifts at any time of the day, occasionally matching outfits with each other, and random lovesick post-it notes placed on your desktop monitor.

You couldn't deny it but you were definitely hopeful to see the priceless reactions of the employees once they did find out. This little game than Nanami created made the office hours more exciting—for the two of you anyway.

"I think Gojo already knows," you said, intertwining your hands together. "He gave me coffee earlier with the writing: 'nanamin's wife'"

"Perhaps it accidentally slipped from my mouth when we were on a business trip over the weekend." Nanami turned you around so you were facing him, letting you rest on his chest. He let his hand rest on your lower back. "Getou knows too. I bet Gojo told him. Were they bothering you too much? I saw Gojo pestering you earlier during lunch and you looked kind of uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable, just surprised," you answered. "I just didn't know how to act. We never talked about how to react when they found out."

Nanami chuckled. He held your chin and placed a soft tender kiss on your lips. The action made you shiver, making him smile through the kiss. Even just for a short while, you felt breathless.

"Just let things happen," Nanami murmured as he rested his head on the crook of your neck. He placed kisses on your neck and shoulder too, making you giggle due to the tickling sensation.

"You're being awfully clingy today, Kento." You brushed some of his hair away from his face, looking at his perfectly chiseled features. "You kept glancing at me at work and smiling at me, then you ate lunch with me, and now you're being so affectionate… not that I mind it though."

"I missed you, darling. That’s all." He placed another kiss on the corner of your lips. "I was in Osaka over the weekend, naturally, I would want to be around my sweet girl."

You laughed and nodded, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks once again. Nanami wasn't usually a touchy and a physically affectionate person, especially outside the house. He wasn’t a fan of public displays of affection, but he does make up for it whenever you two are alone.

Something you also noticed about him even from the first time you started dating, was that he was very subtle in the way he loved. He wasn't extravagant nor boastful with gifts. He was sure to keep it simple. Special occasions were an exception though.

You didn't mind it that much. You weren't a fan of lavish types of love and gift giving anyway—it's kind of overwhelming. The love that Nanami gives you was enough—not too less, not too much, it was the perfect balance in between.

Both of you stayed in the tub for a while, just enjoying the moment as you two held each other. It was peaceful, with occasional innocent words of affection exchanged between the two of you. You were glad that office hours were over, enabling you to enjoy your time alone with your husband.

After a few moments, Nanami ushered you to stand as he rinsed the bubbles on your body with the shower head. You giggled as the water accidentally sprayed on his face, causing him to squint and lightly shake his head—like a dog. You grabbed a towel from the rack and gently patted his face. Nanami even sneaked a small kiss on your wrist, causing you to squeal and bashfully smack him on his chest.

"All these years we spent together and you're still shy whenever I shower you with affection." Nanami tugged you closer to him as he draped a robe over your body. You both wore matching classic white ones, small initials of your name imprinted in his.

"I don't know why I just can't get used to the feeling!" You said, huffing.

"That's good. I like seeing your reactions." Nanami smiled, brushing your hair with his hands. There were some tangles in it, but he didn't mind. He liked brushing them away with his fingers nonetheless.

Nanami just stared at you, his heart thumping happily in his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He wondered what his life would be like if you weren't around. Shaking his head, he didn't want to think of it. You were there, in front of him, in his arms. It was enough.You were enough. Nanami couldn't bear living his life without having you around anyway. Perhaps you might have just bewitched his heart with your charms. But he was so in love with you that he didn't mind.

"You're as pretty as a flower, my sweet." He tugged you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around your frame and resting his head on top of yours. He looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your kind smile, your flushed cheeks—To Nanami, you were perfect.

"Kento?" He hummed, still looking at your face through the reflection. "Would you watch [favorite movie] with me?"

He chuckled, patting your head. How could he say no to you? "Of course, darling. Office hours are already over, right?"

#fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #mentioned jujutsu kaisen characters #romance #fanfiction #self insert #y/n #anime #office

27 notes · View notes

fleckcmscott · 5 years ago

Text

Adjusting

Summary: Arthur moved in with Y/N nearly two weeks ago. It takes more getting used to than he’d thought.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Smut

Words: 3,675

A/N: Another request by the wonderful @sweet-nothings04. Thank you to the amazing @ithinkimawriter for beta-reading and her support!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Arthur was pensive as he sat at her small, round dining table. (Their table. Theirs. When was he going to remember to use the right word?) Pen in hand, he sought relief. The multitude of changes since moving to 4A in Burnley, since moving in with Y/N about a week and a half ago, had kept his brain distracted enough to stop his negative thoughts, at least for a couple of days. But they were back in full force. It was discouraging - he'd believed the temporary break might have been permanent. It had been foolish to hope, though he couldn't have stopped himself from wishing it.

Y/N had taken Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off to help him settle in. They'd been side-by-side for five days, the most time they'd spent together at once. It had felt close to what he'd imagined a honeymoon would be like, and every hour had strengthened that association. He'd cherished it deeply, but he kept it to himself. He shouldn't have been picturing himself the happy groom and her his blushing bride after only three and a half months of dating.

When she'd returned to work Monday, it had been unexpectedly difficult for him. And his unease had grown over the next days. It wasn't that he was alone - he was used to being on his own. But he found that without her there, he felt out of sorts. Almost like a guest in a fancy hotel, regardless of how often he'd been there before and her insistence that he wasn't.

His old place had been run down, and everything in it, from appliances to the mismatched curtains, was outdated. But it had been his home and he'd been comfortable there. With all the evenings Y/N had spent in 8J after Penny left to go to long-term care, his memories of it had started to be positive. When she'd had work to do, he'd rummaged around while she'd sat at his breakfast bar, reading court documents he'd snuck a peek at but hadn't understood. Their first Christmas together, the first holiday that had meant a damn to him, had been celebrated in his living room. They'd watched shows on the old color TV, with its dials and wooden casing. And he'd made love to her on the couch, that piece of furniture he'd spent lonely nights on most of his life.

Maintaining separate residences had meant that Arthur's space and what he could do in it were clear. He'd had his own household to run and had managed to keep busy between the occasional job. Now he felt lost. Y/N had told him to take his own actions, to not worry about upsetting her, that as long as he didn't do something drastic to the apartment, there'd be no issue. Yet, even with her reassurances, he felt as though he needed permission. He didn't want to ruin her nice office wear by laundering it with his own, faded clothing. And he was unsure if she'd like him rearranging the kitchen cabinets a bit (because coffee and sugar should be on the same shelf).

It wasn't her fault. She'd done and continued to do everything she could to help him feel at home. New towels had been hung up for him in the bathroom. They'd gone shopping together and picked up the dish soap he used, his favorite seltzer, and sheets to match his green blanket. He'd hooked up his VCR, too, and they'd watched one of his old movies, just like before.

But his mind was stopping him from enjoying himself, as usual. He'd tried picturing a big red stop sign, speaking the words aloud to sap away the intrusive thoughts' power, both techniques he'd recently learned from his doctor. They weren't working tonight, however. So he started writing. "I signed up for another open-mike night, but that's in to weeks - to whole weeks!" He pulled at a piece of chestnut hair as he continued. "I half Y/N all the time. Its good but she's going to get tired of me. I'm tired of myself. I want to feel fresh for her when she gets home. Which is in two hours, so I better hurry the hell up!"

~~~~~

The sun had already set and a deep chill was in the air. It wasn't a surprise; February was Gotham's coldest month. Arthur stood in the partially open doorway, watching the light snow fall onto the fire escape, the flakes illuminated by the streetlights and lamps of the living room. Journaling had helped, and nicotine tempered him mildly. Still, his brain was racing, so much so he nearly felt numb. Part of him wondered if moving in with Y/N had been a mistake. Yes, he was thirty-five and most men seemed to move out when they were eighteen. But he wasn't like most people. And though he knew he'd taken the right step, his doubts tightened his sinews and muscles.

He didn't hear the closing of the front door. Or the clink of her keys on the kitchen counter. His first indication that she'd come home was her loose grip on his sides. "How was your day?" she asked.

Hard. "Okay." Letting out a smoky breath, he took a step forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the stairs. "Yours?"

"Long." She didn't move forward, allowing the space he'd created between them. "There are nine hearings on the trailing docket tomorrow. I'm going to be in court until five." Her bones popped as she stretched behind him. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

She pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. "Here," she said, then brushed her fingers through his hair. "You've got snow on you."

A small chuckle left him and he bent his head to help her. "Oh."

"Where did your pajamas and thermals go?" she asked as she patted his chest. "You're always so buttoned up." Before he could bring himself to stop her, she'd opened his brown cardigan. Her kneading of his bony shoulders, the care she was showing him, made him wince and look at the floor. How could he explain his troubles, his concern, without hurting her?

But then she relieved him of that burden by starting the conversation herself. "Change isn't easy," she said. "You miss your old place." When he grasped her hand, he folded their fingers together and swallowed. Her arm went around him. "It doesn't mean you love me any less."

Both annoyed at and thankful for her perception, he frowned. She'd gotten too good at reading him, better than he was at interpreting her. He was working on it, though. "It's silly." He waved, trying to dismiss his discomfort. Then he tucked his chin. "I don't want you to think I don't wanna be here."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll never think that, Arthur."

His forehead rested against her temple. "I'm trying."

"I know. Did you write any jokes today?"

His arms encircled her and pulled her to him as he nodded. "What's the difference between Arkham's patients and doctors?"

The hold she had on him tightened, even as her voice was light. This had become a pattern: sweet puns on good days, darker wisecracks on rough days. "Their types of files?"

The punchlines she gave were always too cerebral. Nestling in her hair, he closed his eyes. "The patients get better and leave."

Laughing, she pulled away from him. The grin he gave her was small, the stroking of her jaw short. But he hoped they were enough to tell her he was going to be all right. Especially with her by his side. Her cheeks turned pink in response. "I think I have a way to make you feel better," she said.

Eagerly, he let her lead him to the bathroom. It was with relief he watched her grab the soap from the sink, take out two new washcloths, and start the shower. They hadn't made love for eleven days; he missed it - it was a comfort to him. Her monthly had started right before the move, and, while he'd needed her, he'd been too tense to get in the mood since it had ended.

She helped him out of his sweater and hung it on one of the hooks he'd installed on the door. The white shirt he wore was undone hastily, both of them fumbling with the buttons. When she reached for the fly of his pants, he cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. He felt her smile as she nudged his nose with hers. Then she backed away and stripped out of her champagne blouse, revealing the plain, beige bra she wore underneath. She slipped out of her skirt, too, leaving it on the floor, and sat on the closed lid of the toilet to take off her pantyhose. "I've been wanting to do this for awhile."

Though his mind was still busy, the speed of his thoughts was decreasing. And she was cheering him up. He propped himself on the sink and took off his white socks. "It's a little slippery in there," he said wryly.

"I'll have you know I'm a pretty good ice-skater. For a Southern girl, at least." That was an image he'd have to remember. Maybe they could try it out at Gotham Park before the end of winter. She removed her underthings and put on the radio, which was set to Arthur's favorite AM station, the one that played music from the thirties and forties. "Besides, I'll have you to break my fall." Then she stepped in the tub.

They hadn't showered together before. It reminded him of the night they'd lain in the bath, when he'd realized her love for him wasn't a trick. Would he feel the same closeness without laying in her arms? Sliding his pants and briefs down his legs, he got in beside her and shut the reeded glass door. The space was a couple inches narrower than his old one, but because there wasn't a curtain that would annoyingly cling to him, it felt bigger. It was a bit longer, too. And the shower head was at a good height, though he was still getting used to the higher water pressure.

The steam rising above them, the pelt of droplets against his back, the foot of space between them - he took it all in, peering at her, hands clasped in front of him. She was already rinsing suds out of her hair. Was he supposed to start washing in front of her? Pressing his lips together, he picked up his shampoo. But she stopped him and took the plastic bottle. "Let me."

"I can do it," he said, trying to grab it. Apparently ignoring him, she turned him around so his chest faced the wall, then got his hair all wet. It felt childish at first, but he realized that was silly. She'd never treated him that way, not once since they'd met. So he went along with what she was doing and tried to relax. The sensation of her massaging him made that easy.

She slowed as Lawrence Welk started playing, the song muffled by the humidity of the room. "This music is older than I am." There was a slight tugging on his scalp as she got caught in his loose curls. "You really like antiques."

"That's why I'm with you." He chuckled at himself when she swatted his bottom, proud of his quick comeback. But then his eye started to burn and he squinted. "Shit. Hold on," he said, lifting his face towards the shower head.

The rub of the washcloth across his shoulders, then lower and lower still, prompted him to look down. She'd stepped closer, one of her feet between his. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, her fingertips ghosting over his heated skin. He found he could only nod. "Good." The cloth fell to the bottom of the tub, next to their feet, the impact splashing his ankle.

Her arms snaked around him, and he shut his eyes at the press of her breasts to his back . Her palm went to his chest, then glided down, teasing each rib until she reached his taut abdomen. He responded to her caresses, growing erect as she got closer to his dark curls. A huff left his parted lips as her fingers enclosed around his length, gently sliding up and down. The slick of the soap let her slip over him easily, and it felt incredible, even moreso because he'd yearned for it. It only took a few seconds for him to harden to the point where it was painful.

He bit his lip, her delicate grazes causing him to tremble. But then she started to withdraw, and he thought she'd mistaken his reaction. He grasped her hand and opened his eyes. "Don't. Please."

"Tell me what you want," she said against his shoulder.

What he wanted? He longed for Y/N to take his last name (even though it was far too soon to suggest that), to make it feel like it was his again after the lies he’d uncovered. He needed to accept that he belonged in her home, in their home, and stop doubting. And now, with their legs entwined under the flowing water, he wanted her to keep touching him.

Challenging himself, he watched as he slowly guided her over his cock. The eroticism of the sight halted his breathing. "Y/N..," he groaned, bracing his forearm on the dark blue tile wall. Her fingertips reached out and traced the edge of his swollen, red head, and he rutted forward. When her nails dug the skin of his thigh, he thrust into her touch again. Her breath was hot on his neck as her hips followed his. It was becoming too much too fast - he wanted to be inside her instead of spending all over their hands and the floor.

Spinning to face her, he clasped her sides and drew her flush to him, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. Her eyelids were heavy, her pupils dilated with desire. Drops ran down the plains of her face from her hair, over her brow and cheekbones. Unable to wait any longer, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth to her. The contact burned and he twisted them to press her against the wall, slipping his tongue between her lips. She took his erection, then, and brought it to her labia.

At first Arthur was surprised, believing her to be going too quickly for the intimacy he craved. But instead of taking him inside her, she slid his tip over her burning, wet folds, and he bucked towards her. Her giggle was wicked, but turned to a soft moan as she went faster and shivered. She was teasing them both, and every swipe of him along her core tickled the nerve endings up and down his shaft.

He hungered to taste her, and batted her hand away before kissing down the side of her neck, fondling her breast as he thumbed the peak of it. Her soft cry bounced off the glass door, and his fingers went between her legs, sinking into her soft center. His open-mouth and tongue followed as he knelt before her. The musky scent of her filled his senses as he nuzzled the feminine curve of her abdomen. Just as he was getting into the right position, the spray of the shower hit the side of his face and ear unpleasantly and he flinched.

Y/N giggled and stroked his hair away from his forehead with sympathy, then inched down the wall towards the end of the tub, holding his arm as he followed on his knees. It felt slapstick - he had to laugh at his own awkwardness. But that faded as soon as he gazed up at her. One foot was situated on her side of the tub, opening her wide to him. Rivulets were trailing down her shoulders, the slopes of her chest, catching on her nipples. And she was smiling down at him, affection as clear as the water they were standing and kneeling in. "This was supposed to be about you."

"It still is," he rasped as he spread her lips with his thumbs, then licked a line from her entrance to her clit. Her response was immediate, rolling into his mouth and calling his name. He kept his eyes on her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts with each exhalation, and the way her head tipped to touch the tiles. One of her hands went to the ceramic soap dish on the wall, holding it in a white-knuckle grip, while the other went to his shoulder.

It was funny, he reflected, even as he laved at her. He'd fantasized about this act within the first week of meeting her. From what he'd seen and heard, women were supposed to like it. He hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he did, though. The strength of her responses always made him feel good about himself - and turned him on beyond belief. And knowing no one else was allowed to do this to her, that she was his alone, satisfied him.

There was more of her slick with every sweep of the tip of his tongue, and he savored its taste as he closed his lips around her clitoral hood. Her grip tightened as she put more of her weight on him. She must have been having a hard time continuing to stand. His palms went to her quivering thighs and he pushed, anchoring her as her slight movements stuttered. With a series of soft cries and pants, she started throbbing against him, and he brought her tighter to his mouth, his licks tenderly persistent as he groaned into her.

Once her spasms halted, he stood and pressed his forehead to hers. With a smile on her face, she wrapped an arm around him. Then she reached between them and helped him ease up inside her. It went more smoothly than he had assumed. And he hadn't guessed it would be quite so comfortable, standing instead of laying down (which they'd always done so far). But the scorching stretch of her surrounding him felt wonderful, even at this angle.

"I missed this." Her breath brushed his jawline as the muscles around his cock tightened. “I wish you could stay inside me forever.”

A short, muffled laugh escaped him, then became an amused hum. "That's a long time." His frame shuddered as he grasped her rear, holding her as he withdrew a few centimeters. "I don't wanna go fast," he said, ending on a grunt, nuzzling her cheek.

She held the nape of his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. "Fuck me like you kiss me," she whispered. A small, pleased hiccup caught in his throat before he locked his lips with hers. Where had she learned to speak so shamelessly? It drove him crazy. He bent his head, opening his mouth to deepen their connection. But the unhurried, shallow plunging of his hips, her walls repeatedly accepting him, enveloping him, soon prevented him from concentrating on anything other than the need to finish.

She was moving, just enough to meet him, still letting him control the rhythm. Blindly, he grasped at the wall, pushing his face to her neck as he screwed his eyes shut. The newness of this, the nearly two weeks without her, and the eager clutch of her body were fighting him deliciously. It was ending too fast, and the ability to slow down was slipping away.

Somehow he was still holding himself up. He thrust harder, deeper, striving for the few seconds of serenity he only experienced after losing himself in her. One final push and the pressure in him broke, and he gasped and spilled inside her. The music in the background faded, drowned out by the hushed moans and whimpers passing between their lips as he pressed her into the tiles. Stilling, he kept himself buried in her until the gentle waves of his climax ended and his muscles went slack.

Y/N was rubbing his back, kissing his shoulder, neck, then face. His pulse skipped at those tender touches, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yes." He carefully left the grip of her entrance.

Cupping his face, she leaned her nose to his cheek. “Good.” Then she grabbed the washcloth from the tub, wiped herself off, and hopped out of the shower. Arthur shook his head, smirking as he cleaned himself. When he slid the door open, she was there in her sweatshirt and pants, and she gave him his towel. “I know you prefer these,” she said, putting his thermal shirt and pajamas on the sink. “I don't want to tell you what to wear. But you can lounge in our home. Plus,” she continued, grinning, “your arms look great in that shirt.”

He deduced she must have grabbed them while he was finishing up. A bashful smile broke across his cheeks and he ducked his head. "Thanks. You always know what to say." Shrugging, he shook his head. "You always do that. Make things better." Then he took her hand and pulled her closer, leaning into her. "I really am glad I'm here." Gazing at their entwined fingers, he gave a small squeeze. "I don't ever want to leave," he said quietly.

"Don't worry," she said, tone upbeat. "You're stuck with me for good." Y/N planted a kiss on him and walked out of the bathroom. "I'll start dinner. Join me when you're ready."

Even if it was something simple, Arthur enjoyed cooking with her. Hurriedly, he wrung out and dried his hair, then ran the plush cloth over his arms, torso, and legs. Not caring his clothes were getting wet, he pulled them on and ran out after her.

~~~~~

Lawrence Welk - The Moon is a Silver Dollar

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck smut #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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kutemouse · 5 years ago

Text

And Then He Was Gray (Part One)

Disclaimer: I edited the pic I used above, but do not own the OG one. For the purposes of this one-shot, (G)I-DLE and BTS are closer in age than they are irl. I imagine the girls to be around 2 or so years older than they are currently. FYI none of them are minors, and they are all legal drinking age… I checked 😉

This imagine/one-shot was inspired by none other than… Jin’s famous gray, star-patterned crop top. I remember DYING when I first saw that footage of Hoseok taking pictures of Jin lifting his arms and showing off his amazingly toned torso… So, in honor of that magical, wonderful shirt, enjoy 💜

Note: In case it wasn’t clear, I gave Soyeon a nickname that her friends call her. They’ll call her “So-So” occasionally. It’s not based in real life at all, I just thought it was kinda kute.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (Not just a recommendation, kuties!)

Warnings: ALL of BTS make an appearance, (G)I-DLE make an appearance (yes, I like them), PDA, consumption of lots of alcohol, JiHope being the world’s cutest couple and making me pop all the UwU’s, Tae and JK being rowdy drunks, lonely angst 😔 Not much smut in this part. SWEARS, God, I nearly always forget swears 🙄

Word Count: 1,157

Summary: Your best friend Jeon Soyeon invites you to a kick-back with all of her friends and their significant others, intent on hooking you up with someone. Everyone seems taken, though, until he arrives, wearing a star-studded, gray top that makes your mouth water.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

And Then He Was Gray (Jin One-Shot, Smut, Fluff) Part One

“Stop fiddling, you look great!” my best friend said, slapping my hands away from my skirt.

“I can’t help it, I feel like the bottom of my ass is showing,” I groaned, continuing to tug at the plaid, gray fabric.

Soyeon rolled her eyes. “So what if it is?”

I scoffed. “Then I’d like my jeans back please!”

“Y/n. You do not go to a party dressed like it’s just another Friday, okay? This is a special occasion, the first time we’ve been out in ages! Please, for the love of all things holy, try to have fun,” she begged.

Rolling my eyes, I gave her a tiny nod, reluctantly agreeing to “have fun,” as she put it. My idea of fun was curling up with my favorite show, rolled up in a blanket like the lazy burrito I was. However, my best friend had been invited to this kick-back, and since all of her university friends were going to be there, and, more importantly, since the girl she was currently into was going to be there, I was forced to come along as her wing-woman. When my bestie explained why she wanted me to come, I couldn’t help feeling slighted. That was seriously her reasoning why the fuck I had to go? Couldn’t Soyeon find some other gal pal to dress up like a doll and drag places?

“Guess not,” I thought as we stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. We could already hear music booming from the inside, accompanied by loud laughter and shouts.

A boy whipped open the door, laughing at something behind him. I was taken aback by his large stature and wide, white smile. “Ladies,” he greeted when he saw us, his smile turning into a smirk. “Come on in.”

“Nice to see you too, Jungkook,” Soyeon said, pressing a hand on the boy’s chest and pushing him aside.

The house was rather large and beautifully decorated on the inside. “Wow,” I said, looking around. “Whose place is this?”

“Mine,” the boy, Jungkook, said. “Well, my parents. But they’re out of town, so for the weekend, it’s mine.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook motioned to the kitchen. “Grab food, drinks, whatever. Most of us are outside around the fire pit.”

“Cool, thanks,” Soyeon said, grabbing me by the wrist and making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Is that the guy?” I hissed as she tugged me along.

“Nope,” she replied as we passed a couple wrapped around each other, making out in plain sight.

“Ugh,” Soyeon said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s my friend from university, Yuqi, and Jungkook’s best friend, Taehyung. I so regret introducing those two.”

Two guys were in the kitchen, one dark-haired, the other blonde. Both were handsome as hell, but while the dark-haired one had more pointed, angular features, the blonde’s were rounded, soft, and delicate. “This is Hoseok, I call him Hobi,” she said, pointing. “And that’s Jimin. They’re only the cutest couple I know.” Soyeon leaned on the counter and squished her cheeks between her hands.

Hobi rolled his eyes, tugging Jimin closer by the waist. “Soyeon, please.”

“It’s true,” she retorted.

“Don’t let Taehyung hear you say that,” Jimin said, chuckling. “He thinks he and Yuqi are the World’s Cutest Couple.”

“Because we are,” a deep voice said. I turned to see a tall, handsome guy with dark hair leading a girl with large doe eyes and waist-length, wavy brown hair into the kitchen.

Soyeon scoffed. “More like World’s Most Inconsiderate Couple.”

“Soyeon, please. Don’t be jealous.” Taehyung’s mischievous grin did nothing to stop my bestie from throwing an empty cup at him.

Blatantly ignoring them, Hobi nodded in my direction. “So-So, who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is my best friend, Y/n. I’ve known her since we were kids.”

“That’s cool, nice to meet you,” Hobi said, extending his hand. I shook it, shyly nodding.

Jimin poured everyone drinks before we headed outside, the boys jostling each other as they joked around and making us girls giggle. We sat in some lawn chairs circled around a fire pit, where a few people were already roasting marshmallows and drinking. “Soyeon!” a girl with long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail exclaimed, throwing her arms around my bestie. “I missed you!”

“Missed you too, Shuhua. It’s only been what, a day?”

“Feels longer,” Shuhua mock-pouted before taking a seat on Jungkook’s lap. Leaning over his girlfriend, Jungkook gestured to a guy with silvery-purple hair who was holding the hand of a girl with blonde-streaked, dark hair and gorgeous, piercing eyes. “This is Namjoon, and his girlfriend, Minnie.”

Namjoon shook our hands with a smile. “Nice to meet you. Feel free to grab some roasting sticks and ‘mallows if you want.”

Another boy with dark hair and pale skin held his hand out as well. “I’m Yoongi. This is my girlfriend, Soojin.”

Soojin had to be one of the prettiest girls I’d ever seen. Her blonde hair cascaded down to her waist, and her red-lipsticked smile was sultry yet shy. “Yoongi sure is a lucky guy,” I thought while shaking their hands as well.

After introductions were finished, I sat down in a chair, pulling my bestie down with me. “Soyeon, all of these guys seem to be taken. You said you were bringing me here to meet someone,” I whispered.

“Patience,” she hissed back before her entire face lit up. “Oh my God, Miyeon! You look amazing!”

Soyeon got up and placed her hands on a girl’s shoulders. The girl must have just arrived. Her purse was still on her shoulder and a cup full of liquid was in her hand. “Thanks,” she said, giving Soyeon an up-down, her pretty brown eyes sliding slowly over my best friend’s body. “You look good too, Soyeon.”

Ah, so this was the famous Miyeon. Soyeon hadn’t shut up about her since the day they met, and tonight was supposed to be the night my best friend made her move.

“Ten bucks they hook up,” I heard Jungkook whisper, and I turned to shoot him a grin as the others snickered. Luckily, Soyeon and Miyeon were too caught up in each other to notice.

After a while of drinking and laughing, I was pleasantly buzzed and my best friend was slowly sliding one hand up Miyeon’s thigh while the other was intertwined between her fingers. Score one for Soyeon. From what she told me, Miyeon was girlfriend material.

The other couples were also getting cozy, and I suddenly felt a chill as I realized the closest thing I had to snuggle with was bare-ass air. This was fun, and I liked meeting new people, but I knew this kick-back was going to end up with everyone pairing off. Maybe I should just go home. Snuggle my blanket. Watch a movie. You know, my definition of fun.

“Beer pong anyone?” Taehyung asked suddenly, holding up a couple of ping pong balls.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Part Two is here! 😏

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whirlybirbs · 6 years ago

Note

When I requested “miss Turner blushing” I did not mean for it to end like that! Omg I’m sad now 😔 Hope, unfuck this mess!!! (But do really really love what you wrote and now I’m excited for what’s to come

a/n: here’s part two! to the blushing drabble -- you and arthur have a spat, he says something nasty and hosea steps in. you’re both sent on errands, conflict still hanging in the air. an apology and a gift right things between you and the outlaw. i love these two.

“Mr. Morgan --”

“Not now, Miss Turner.”

You could pull your hair out.

He’s unbearable to be around.

Plainly so.

I mean, even Hosea -- a man with so much patience he could be revered as a Saint -- can’t stand being around the outlaw for more than five minutes at a time. And that’s saying something. Hosea nearly raised the unruly boy. This new stretch of attitude has him biting off heads at the slightest convenience.

Christ, he’d snapped at Javier for brushing Sugarcube.

Not that you’d know -- after all, Arthur has ignored you outright for the last three days straight. Hasn’t said a word, save for a biting little comment at dinner the other night about you bein’ in his way.

It puts you in a bad spot for a day or so -- guilt is heavy in your gut at the realization that your words about him not bein’ your type were far from the truth. The girls are nice enough to see it too, and... even Grimshaw tries her best to get you and Arthur in the same place to at least talk about it.

Dutch is the one that jokes Arthur’s mood brings in three days of late-night, summer storms. The heavy heat is dampened with the cool air the thunderheads roll in on, leaving the camp scrambling for cover at the first crack of lightning.

Last night, the winds had been so bad, they’d sent Pearson’s tent into the lake.

Just... up and lifted and threw the whole thing.

So, here you are, deciding that if Arthur Morgan wants to ignore your very existence, you’re going to make it mighty hard for him to do just that. You are, plain and simple, sick of moping about.

You follow him as he storms about, following the source of the commotion by the lakeside. It’s Pearson, swearing up a storm about his tent. Dutch is trying to calm the navy-man down, but it’s Arthur who ditches his boots and traipses right into the lake. Always the fixer.

You, hellbent on not letting him off the hook, hop out of your own boots and follow.

And, half an hour later, here you are.

"Jus’... pull, will you?”

“M’ tryin’.”

“Well,” Arthur snaps, “Try harder, Miss Turner, I’m gettin’ soggy.”

You’re waist deep in the lake when he starts in, arm dove deep beneath the water as you try to unwrap the tacking from a piece of rotting wood on the bottom of the beach -- the red clay has you sinking in and you teeter, one hand gathering your skirt and the other trying to dislodge the knot.

At his comment, you serve him a look.

“I don’t see you over here,” you snap, “Up to your shoulder in muck, Mr. Morgan.”

He’s about to open his mouth, about to dig in, about to the the dynamite struck on an open flame, when Dutch cuts him off.

“I believe it may be a lost cause, you two,” the leader yells, parsing a hand through dark hair, “I think it best a run into town is made. No doubt the Rhodes’ General Store has some tent supplies.”

You stagger out of the water, skirt weighed down and mud up to your knees. You’re soaked, hair hanging in your face -- the front of your blouse clings to you and if you weren’t so irritated with Arthur Morgan, maybe you’d be happy to be cooled off for once.

“Both of you,” Dutch says slowly, “Get changed and take the wagon --”

“Oh, no, no, Dutch. I don’t think tha’s a good idea --”

You narrow your eyes as Arthur turns, leaning in to give your back a hearty pat -- it lacks any affection, though. You stagger forward a bit, biting your tongue. His words fly out with malice and that same gut-wrenching guilt you’d sworn you were going to try and beat surges back up in your belly.

Blue eyes dart between you both. Faux-amusement is written there.

“Y’see, I’m not Miss Turner’s type.”

It’s like a tea kettle has hit it’s boiling point. You give a strangled shriek, annoyance spurring your fists to ball up.

“You are insufferable!”

"You’ve already made your feelings for me painfully clear --”

He starts up the hill through the camp and you, so hellbent in anger, follow him with wide strides. He’s already working at the buttons on his soaked through shirt, ignoring the beating of the hot sun on his back. If anything, your glare is just as hot. You catch up to him by the stew pot, snagging his arm.

“Will you just listen t’ me?!”

He shrugs you off, muddy finger pointing in your face.

“I’ve heard plenty.”

You don’t let up, though, following him all the way to his tent and stopping short with your hands on your waist.

“I’ve been tryna talk t’ you for the last three days an’ --”

“ -- An’ I don’t wanna hear it.”

He shirks his clay-caked, navy dress shirt onto his cot, snapping his suspenders down to hang low around his thighs. He turns his back to you as he does so and for one moment, you get a glance at his back -- it’s littered with jagged and long and bullet-shaped scars. The sight shuts you up for a breath and you swallow down the want to reach out and touch him.

Not now.

Arthur takes note of your silence and laughs bitterly. “Y’ say m’ not yer type but you’re awfully keen on ogglin’.”

“That -- it’s not -- I...” you gape, eyes turning up to the ceiling of his tent, “You misunderstand me, Mr. Morgan.”

“Did I now?”

“Yes,” you grit, “Quite.”

He’s working on another shirt, this one is white -- and leans, tucking in the hem to his pants. He doesn’t bother to change his jeans. In this heat, they’ll dry soon enough. Arthur lands on his cot, calloused fingers working the buttons into the eyelets. He’s keen on ignoring you; mostly because the hope that he really had gotten this all wrong with you is blinding. He has spent the last three days trying to shut it all out and --

“I’m awfully sorry I ain’t some rich, old railroad magnate, Miss Turner,” Arthur’s voice rises into somethings awfully sharp and angry, then, driving the knife into an already open wound, “So you best find yourself a man who can replace good ol’ Waylon Robbins, certainly that’s your type --”

That. That hurts.

You aren’t sure what to say -- you really are speechless, left fumbling over the hard punch to the chest his words mimic. To use that against you is... unfair. And rude and mean and awful and terribly unlike the Arthur Morgan you’d gotten to know and you must have looked like you were one beat from crying because suddenly:

“You best get changed, Miss Turner.”

It’s Hosea.

Your eyes hit the ground. At the gentle touch of the mentor’s hand, you nod -- quickly pulling away from Arthur’s orbit and heading back towards your own tent.

It’s only until you’re out of earshot that Hosea speaks again, this time with the sternness of a father.

“You are going to take her into town, get the tent supplies,” he says, “And you are going to apologize.”

“I ain’t doin’ no such thing.”

“Yes, you are, Arthur Morgan,” Hosea hisses, jabbing a finger into the outlaw’s chest as he stands, “What has gotten into you? I know you’re dumb, but god -- can’t you see she’s trying to explain herself?”

“What is there t’ explain, Hosea?” Arthur stands, face twisted into a sadder sort of anger, “She made her feelings clear --”

“Did she?” his father-figure jests, “Are we callin’ eavesdropping clear now-a-days? You’re actin’ as if she turned down your hand in marriage, my boy --”

“Yeah, well,” Arthur grumbles, raising a hand as he leans to pull his boots on, “I’ve been there -- I ain’t goin’ down that road again.”

Hosea sighs. His hand is gentle on the blonde’s shoulder. “The girls pulled me aside, you know, asked if I could do anything -- they were ribbing her over chores, y’know, about you two. Karen thinks she... well, thinks Miss Turner was tryin’ t’ be modest.”

“Modest.”

A bitter laugh.

“You know how it is,” Hosea shrugs, “....High-class ladies and their modesty.”

Arthur, from across camp, catches you emerging from your tent. You’re sweeping your hair up, penning it tight and high away from your neck in a neat bun. You’ve changed into a lighter cotton dress, light blue with delicate floral patterning. It’s Sadie, the recently addition to the gun-slinging gang, that offers you her hat.

You look beautiful.

Arthur hates himself. He’s a fool.

Hosea can see it.

“Just... talk to her, will y’, Arthur?”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.”

And so, you and Arthur Morgan saddle up, ready to make your way to Rhodes for supplies. You’re quiet on approach and he’s just as bad -- not daring open his mouth thanks to the sudden realization that he really did hurt your feelings. Your eyes are watery.

Guilt bites him in the heart.

You decide it’s best to ignore it. If this is what he’s after... making you hate him, then so be it. Maybe it’s better that way.

He offers to help you up into the wagon.

Much like the day you met him, you swat his hand away.

The first few minutes of the ride are unbearable and Arthur is suddenly very aware of how, with the cold shoulder reversed, miserable this is. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and... well, he deserved it.

Finally, after he’d spurred the horses into a trot and onto the main road, he speaks.

“... I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure you heard him.

You spare him a side-ward glance and grip your satchel a bit tighter.

Arthur sighs. “I am -- I... That was rude of me t’ say back there.”

“It was.”

“And --”

“And cruel,” you snap, voice wavering, “And unfair.”

“I said I was sorry --”

“And I don’t want an apology Hosea is forcing out of you, Mr. Morgan,” you say, “If you’re so keen on hating me, then so be it.”

“I ain’t keen on hatin’ you.”

Arthur sighs, then, disparagingly so. You cross your arms, turning and crossing your legs as the wagon rocks. You make due with the view of the bayous around the trail. You’re sure if you look at him, you’re resolve will just... snap in half.

Another few moments of silence pass between you both and Arthur thinks this is what hell is like. It’s torture. Suddenly, three days worth of shutting it all out is falling apart. After all, how could he push past the feelings he’d realized with you beside him? Pretty and poised in a sundress -- looking awfully angry but awfully beautiful.

God, he’s got it bad.

Finally, he speaks again.

His bitter, rugged facade falls -- if just for a moment.

“It hurt my feelings.”

It’s so quiet, it’s nearly a whisper.

You blink, then, eyeing the slumped posture of the outlaw beside you.

“...What?”

“It hurt my feelings,” he says again, louder this time, “T’ hear y’ say that -- the bit about me not bein’ yer type.”

You wring your hands. “Well, you aren’t.”

Arthur blinks. Hurt flies across his face.

“-- You’re different from any other man I’ve ever met, is what I meant,” you continue, nervousness not letting you look at him, “It’s not a bad thing -- not a... condemning notion. I just... where I’m from, there aren’t any cowboys or outlaws or highwaymen. It’s... It’s all weak-chinned men who talk the talk but -- I don’t know. I ain’t never had a type like you. Not that my previous type was anything special.”

More silence.

Arthur heart is hammering so loud in his chest it’s like the strike of a sledgehammer on a railroad track. He feels -- like all at once -- his breath has been stolen from him. His eyes are stuck on you, attention diverted from the road.

“So...” you twiddle your thumbs, sparing him a doe-eyed look.

“... I was an ass.”

“A dumb-ass,” you correct, “A baboon’s ass, even.”

Finally, he laughs. Finally, and you feel like smiling again.

You move, then, leaning and muscling around in your satchel.

You pull out a leather-bound journal. Pulled across the binding is a deep, rich, black leather -- the pages are crisp and fresh, a stark comparison to the one in Arthur’s bag. He hit the end of the pages the night before last, scribbling angry notes about how love is one hell of an illness.

Blue eyes cast across your face, trying to read the emotion there.

“I was gunna give you this, I been carryin’ it around,” you say, “I picked it up in Saint Denis, but... Well, you were busy givin’ me the cold shoulder. It had to wait.”

Arthur blinks, shifting the reigns into one hand. He takes the journal, eyeing the thick pages. Gratefulness shines in the tender way he holds it.

“... You didn’t --”

“I did,” you chirp, “I mean, I didn’t buy it --”

Arthur laughs then, booming and full and happy and it’s like a sun-storm. Your face splits into a grin, finally, after three days of no sun. You bask in it, happy to sail onto better seas. The outlaw’s thumb grazes the cover. You stole. For him.

It means a lot.

“Thank you.”

“Take it as an apology,” you say, patting his knee, “For hurtin’ your delicate feelings, Mr. Morgan.”

He shoulders you, pulling a laugh out of your chest.

“C’mon,” he drawls, “Don’t want the others t’ think y’ broke my heart an’ left me for dead.”

Onward and upward, straight into the sweetness of feelings.

#simpler said aloud #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan headcanons #Anonymous

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ageeksnerdyworld · 5 years ago

Text

A Birthday Bash

Characters: Avia Carstairs, Kelly Ronan O’Connor, Scribe Jenkins, Isabelle Lombardi, Emery Becker, Jett Leach, Mazarin Leach, Holland Ayer, Kalenn Birch, Walker, Scout Carstairs, Paisley Carstairs, and October Ispen

Word Count: 5,405

Trigger Warning: N/A

Notes: This idea has been bouncing around my brain for a real long time so I finally wrote it. But this took like ten years to write. This is as good as its gonna get. As always The Cyber World and the viruses therein belong to @voiceoflarka

Summary: The gang gathers at the Carstairs manor for Avia’s birthday. An unexpected guest arrives. Much to Scout’s dismay party shenanigans ensue. Click the read more if you’d like.

~~~

That morning Avia woke to find a hand written note on her night stand.

Happy birthday to my wonderful niece. May your wishes for today come true. I love you with all my heart. --Aunt Paisley

The ivory white paper was on the thicker side, with a golden border, and a small intricate flower embossed into the middle of it. At the bottom of the flower were the initials P.E.C. The message was written in neatly penned, and amazingly precise, black calligraphy. A smile formed as she read it. But her happiness was short lived as she realized that her father hadn't said anything. Part of her didn't expect him to even remember what today was. But a small piece secretly hoped he would.

She pulled the covers off and got out of bed.

Returning the lovely note to the nightstand she grabbed her phone.

She checked her messages as she crossed to the bathroom.

Most were from her teammates. All sending birthday wishes her way. There were also a few extra messages from Kelly. Each one of his texts were signed with a red heart emoji.

In the bathroom Avia washed her face from the lull of sleep.

When she was finished with that she went back into her bedroom and changed. She wore a long-sleeved, white, shirt with a boat neck. She also wore a red plaid patterned skirt with a hemline that ended just above her knees. The hemline was asymmetrical with the right side a bit shorter than the left. Two angled zippers sat on either side of the skirt. Underneath the skirt she wore a pair of thin, black, pantyhose.

Sitting down at the ivory white vanity she brushed her hair.

Before doing her make-up she sent “thank you” texts to everyone. She also sent a purple heart, and a red, emoji to Kelly. As she opened the drawer of her vanity there was a knock at her door.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened and the small form of October Ispen stepped in.

They were her father’s driver, bodyguard, and the family’s butler. For as long as she could remember they had been a constant presence in her life. As Avia did her makeup she saw the reflection of the virus in her mirror. They wore a black suit, with a white dress shirt, an obsidian tie, and impeccably shined shoes. Their skin was white and covered with dark rosewood veins. A stone-cold, serious, expression marked their face. An expression which was even more threatening due to the utter lack of hair on his head and face. Even their eye ridges were entirely void of any hair.

Everything about October Ispen was unsettling. The veins that crawled along their bare skull. Their uncanny talent of being able to stand perfectly still. The black leather gloves they constantly wore. Their unnerving, relentless, brown eyes.

She knew why they were there without them having to say anything.

She sighed and said; “Already?”

October gave her a silent nod.

She shook her head and quickly took the dress she wanted to wear later out of her closet. Avia carefully laid it on her bed. Quickly finding the matching heels she set them at the foot of her bed. Just before leaving her room she slipped on a pair of sleek black boots.

Together the pair walked through the hallway and down the winding staircase.

When they arrived at the landing Avia gave October a pleading stare. They didn’t react. She sighed; not expecting anything else from them. They were her father’s employee after all. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he used his powers to keep October in line. He had done so many times before to other less important people in his employ. He often said that he owed the success of his business to it. People often said that his powers were the only reason he landed her mom. Whether the rumors were true or not she had no idea.

As she rounded the corner and crossed the hallway all these things ran though her mind. She steeled herself before entering the dining room.

He sat at the head of the long, rectangular, dining table. His light gray hair was a bit messy as if he had been stressfully running his hands through it. As always the crawling scar under his right eye glowed lightly. He wore a dark gray jacket over a white dress shirt and a pair of cream colored dress pants. A dark brown belt sat on the waist of his pants. On his ring finger sat a thick, plain silver, wedding band. A series of files covered the area in front of him. In his right hand was a tablet and he held a stylus in his left. He twirled the stylus between his fingers as he read whatever was on the screen. When she entered the room October immediately walked to her father’s side.

Scout Carstairs always liked to keep his possessions close.

He looked up just as Avia walked through the open doors.

“Good morning,” she said.

Returning the sentiment he smiled slightly. The emotion was barely reflected in his eyes. He motioned for her to walk over to him. She did.

He held her hands in his. It was always strange when her father chose to show emotion. Every time he did it felt wrong, as if it was only half there, and fake. But she didn’t flinch away. She didn’t want to deal with any of the aftermath today.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Do you really want to have the party here?” he asked. “Dad has a lot of work to do, sweetheart, and it might not be a good idea.”

Avia rolled her eyes and let go of his hands. Of course he wanted something from her. He was barely ever nice just for the sake of being nice. Even the trips they had taken in the past were more often work related than not.

“This is about my team coming isn’t it?”

“No, I just--” she cut him off.

“It is! You think they’ll tear the place apart or something. They’re my friends, father. You still want to me be to be the little girl who liked staying inside all day? But that ship has sailed, father. I’m finally being myself and I have friends.”

“Avia, stop,” he said harshly.

“Not until you admit the truth--”

“I SAID STOP!” he yelled.

The lighting of the room shifted as he spoke. The lights dimmed significantly. When she looked at her dad now he seemed to grow twice his size. He loomed over her like a giant. If it was possible October looked even smaller than usual. Scout’s face darkened with anger. His voice now boomed and echoed.

“I can’t have that tattooed punk ruining tonight. He’s uncultured, disrespectful, and vulgar. Even the smallest, cheapest, thing is worth more than his life.”

“Tonight isn’t about you, father. Emery’s coming. They’re all coming.”

Avia was unshaken by her father’s powers. He tended to have his abilities up in some capacity almost all the time so she was accustomed to them. She stood firm and kept her face as calm as possible. She nodded in agreement. Scout was very surprised. Sitting back down he switched it off and the room returned to normal.

“Very well,” he said; returning his attention to his work. “You may go. Paisley would like to go shopping with you. Her present this year, apparently. I do believe she’s waiting out front for you.”

Avia said nothing as she turned on her heels and walked out.

Just like her father said Paisley was waiting for Avia on the front steps of the manor. She wore a slim fitting dress and a pair of black stilettos. The dress was mostly white but there were a few intersecting black lines across it. Some ran vertically and others ran horizontally. A few of the sections were dyed different colors; red, blue, yellow. A pair of black sunglasses sat on her face. She looked stunning as always.

“Didn’t go too bad, I see,” she said as Avia approached.

“Father’s letting my friends attend so I think not.”

Paisley nodded approvingly. She handed her niece a small, thin, rectangular envelope. The paper was clearly expensive and just like the note it was thick. It was black in color and the writing was silver. Avia’s eyes went wide.

“Father said we were going shopping,” she said confused.

“Oh, we are. But, one cannot really shop without stable finances,” she said with a smile.

Avia opened the envelope and the card inside was plain black with a small message. It read; Get yourself something nice, in that same silver font. Inside the card was a thin blue credit card. A small receipt showed how much money was on it. It was a lot more than Avia expected.

“Oh my,” she whispered in shock.

“If your tall, ginger, friend is coming then you’ll need something new. And fabulous. Also, it would greatly anger Scout and that is always a plus.”

Avia smiled and they descended the front steps together.

~~~

While the birthday girl was getting ready so were her friends. The Leach siblings were the first ones dressed and ready. So they met in the hallway outside the rooms and hung out. Mazarin, who was the odd one out in the group, stuck by her older brother. From what she had seen of Avia and her family differed so much from her own Mazarin didn't know what to expect.

"Je," she whispered to him as they waited for the others.

"Is Avia's family nice? Are they like how mom and dad used to be?"

"I don't really know," he said staring off at the opposite wall. "That's more of a question for Kell. He's the only one of us who's met Av's dad. Why? Something wrong?"

Mazarin wrapped her arms around her torso and hugged herself. She dug her toes into the carpet. Jett could tell something was bothering her. He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder; pulling her into a side hug. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Maz," he said. "I'm sure everyone's gonna be fine. We're going to a birthday party after all."

She turned away from the wall and hugged her brother tightly. Her face was buried into the front of his jacket. With her this close he didn't have to hear her to know she was crying. He could feel it. As she silently cried Jett began to slowly, soothingly, stroke her hair.

"I miss them so much," she said; her voice muffled a bit from the fabric of his jacket.

"Me too."

They stood like that for a few more seconds before she let go and wiped her eyes. Jett straightened the front of his his jacket. Then he noticed that her headband had fallen so he fixed it for her. He tucked his finger under her chin and gave her a soft smile.

"Don't you worry, little lady, we've got each other. And that's all that matters."

“Everything alright, Leach?” Walker asked.

Neither of them saw Walker enter the hallway, but, they weren’t bothered.

“Yeah. We’re good,” he said. Noticing the rabbit virus’s attire he chuckled; “You look almost the exact same you do every day, Texas Ranger.”

They wore a white, long-sleeved, button up which covered their upper body. A maroon, double-breasted, vest partially covered the dress shirt. Dark black pants covered their legs and the dark dress shoes poked out from underneath the fabric. A black waistcoat tightly hugged their frame. Their usual goggles were replaced by a black and brown vertical striped top hat. The hat hid their long, black, ears. The outfit was complete with a black tie that sat under the shirt collar.

“He’s right you know,” a voice called from the end of the hallway.

The voice belonged to Isabelle who had just exited her room.

She wore a pastel blue dress and silver colored heels. Her hair was pinned up on one side with silver, sparkling, barrettes. The rest hung down and was neatly curled. The hemline of her dress was shorter in the front, stopping above her knees, and longer in the back. A thin, white, ribbon ran along her waist; separating the sections of the dress. The bottom half was comprised of many layers. The very top layer was sheer and continued to just below her shoulders. Patches of small flowers were embroidered on that layer. She twirled around to show the others the back which was laced up like a corset. A small, white, clutch sat in her right hand.

Walker rolled their eyes at her but said nothing.

“You look nice,” Jett said as Isabelle joined the others with a smile.

Mazarin, who was sitting on the floor, looked up just as Jett spoke. Her eyes went wide and she gasped quietly. Isabelle walked over to where she stood and leaned her back against the wall. She jumped up from the floor and preceded to excitedly talk to Isabelle. She asked the skitty virus a multitude of questions. Jett knew that Mazarin admired Isabelle so he let them talk. He plugged his headphones in his ears and closed his eyes.

Walker spent the time analyzing the various dents, scratches, and stubborn stains that were scattered around the carpet. The four of them were all in their own worlds that none noticed Scribe enter the hallway.

“Ready,” she said; quietly approaching the group.

Scribe wore a dress that stopped just above the knees. The dress was white with gold and blue half oval accents. The design was clearly supposed to look like scales. A thin, light gray, cardigan comfortably sat on her shoulders. She wore an armillary sphere ring that hung from her neck on a thin gold chain. The sphere was open and the five bands circulated over one another. The outermost bands were engraved with simple recesses to form swirls and curves with the metal. Behind those a thicker band was engraved with her name in Atlantean runes. The two middle bands were then like the two outer ones. But, these impressions had a message engraved into the metal. It was written half in binary and half in Atlantean runes. A message just for her from the one who gave her the ring. She wore it on the chain to keep her mom’s memory close by.

Her outfit was complete with a pair of light gray flats.

"Scribe, you look so cute!" Isabelle exclaimed with a beaming smile.

She shrugged and pushed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. Looking away, slightly embarrassed, she muttered her thanks. Returning the compliment she moved over to stand next to the skitty virus.

Holland, Kalenn, and Emery all entered the hallway at the same time.

Holland’s inky black hair was combed back; styled as it usually was in a short pompadour. They wore a dark teal suit. The lapels, and the pockets, were a dark navy. A white dress shirt poked out from underneath the end of the sleeves. Emerging from the collar of the shirt was a bright coral tie. Monochromatic coral paisley designs were embroidered onto the fabric. A matching coral pocket square was neatly folded into a winged puff. Their shoes were white and pointed at the toes. The soles were black and a slight heel. A sliver, rectangular, clasp sat on the outside.

Kalenn wore a short sleeved, black, dress. Much like Isabelle’s dress his was multi-layered. The hemline stopped in the middle of his thighs. Under the dress he wore a pair of gray faux leather pants. But unlike any of the outfits the others wore his was tattered and ripped. He also wore a pair of black boots that stopped at his knees. His outfit was completed with a sheer gray shawl and a silver antler shaped necklace.

Both the dress and the shawl had slits in the back for his wings.

While the couple stopped to talk to the group Emery rushed to sulk behind everyone. It was clear to Walker, who was the only one who saw, that he wanted to hide.

"I'm actually surprised at how well you clean up, Becker," Walker said with a smirk.

As a matter of fact this was the only time most of the team had seen Emery Becker with his natural hair color. His deep black hair wasn't spiked up in his typical mohawk either. It was combed down and slicked back with gel. And he had taken out some of his piercings; the nose ring, the double studs in his eyebrow and the claw shaped ring in his bottom lip. All of his ear piercings remained.

He wore a black leather jacket over a black button up. A bright, plain, white bow-tie sat just under the collar. He wore dark black dress pants and a white belt. The pants were obviously too small for him. The hem of the legs stopped just above the top of his boots. A small section of his mismatched socks poked through.

Despite the clear signs that his attire was hastily thrown together it seemed that Emery had put in an effort.

“Don’t listen to them, Beck,” Jett said. “You look like shit.”

Emery chuckled; “Least I’m not as ugly as you right now. You look like road kill, dude.”

They laughed and playfully threw insults and obscenities at one another until Isabelle made them stop.

Kelly was the last person to enter the hallway. He wore a simple black suit and tie. He was clearly nervous. While he walked over he kept readjusting his sleeve buttons and straightening his tie. Muttering to himself he wasn’t looking where he was walking at all. He was so distracted by his own nerves that he bumped into Walker.

“Watch where you’re going, O’Connor,” they snapped.

“Oh, fuck, sorry,” he said.

"That's everyone," Jett said; trying to take the heat off Kelly. "Let's head down and see what's what."

The group entered the elevator, taking up two of them at the same time, and descended to the lobby. Stepping out of the elevator doors they looked around. Avia had told them that her family’s butler was going to pick up the group. But they were nowhere to be seen. So, the gang decided to wait around until October showed up.

It was a long, boring, wait.

After what seemed like forever a short, bald, virus approached the group. The virus wore a black suit and had a serious expression. The group thought that this might be the person who was supposed to pick them up. Kelly was about to ask them who they were. But he was cut off when the virus lifted their hands and began signing something.

“I.. um, we don’t, uh, rea--” Kelly stammered nervous and unsure of what to say.

But Emery shoved past him, saving him from further embarrassing himself, and said; “Don’t worry, dude. I got this.”

A minute or so passed with Emery and the other virus signing back and forth. Even though he was speaking while he signed the entire exchange was very awkward for the rest of the group. When the short conversation was over Emery motioned for the group to follow.

As they made their way through the parking lot Kelly walked up to Emery and tapped him on the shoulder.

“How’d’ye know how ta do that?”

“Sign?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kelly shrugged and nodded at the same time.

“Kinda had to learn it,” Emery replied with a somber smile. Then he chuckled lightly as if reminiscing about something. “Honestly, Irish, lemme tell ya it was pretty hard to talk to her without it.”

“Who, if ye don’t mind me askin’?”

“My mom.”

Emery jogged to catch up with the others and left Kelly standing in the parking lot with his mouth hanging open in shock.

~~~

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the Carstairs manor. October was instructed to drive fast so they did. The group filed out of the limo and up the front stairs. Most of the group rushed inside, ready to get their party on, except for Jett and Emery. The boys took their time; awestruck by the expanse and the aura of the filthy rich of the place.

Emery felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see October behind them.

Hurry it up, alright, they signed.

Yeah, sorry, he quickly signed back. Then he grabbed Jett by the arm and rushed inside.

The open foyer was spacious and inviting. Streamers hung from the ceiling and along the banister. The streamers were dark eggplant purple and navy blue. A large, rectangular sign, hung across the large chandelier. In the same purple and blue as the streamers the sign read HAPPY BIRTHDAY AVIA. Unsure of where to go the boys hung around and tried to listen to where the party was.

They heard Kelly’s very loud, and extremely awkward, nervous laugh.

The rushed over in that direction.

Stepping into the room they took in the scene. Neither were surprised to find that it was a large ballroom. Just like in the foyer there were purple and blue streamers hanging from the ceiling. On the left hand side of the room there was a long, stylish, buffet table. A wide array of food and desserts lined it. Next to the buffet table there was a smaller one. Bottles of champagne and a bowl of punch sat on it. On the right side of the room there were a series of round tables. Each table had four black chairs and was covered with a white tablecloth.

A small, black, bird shaped, centerpiece sat in the middle of each table.

The rest of the room stayed as the dance floor.

“Over here,” Mazarin called; waving the boys over to their table.

The table that the group had sat was actually two tables pushed together. Someone had fixed the tablecloths so that they covered both tables equally. On either side of the middle of the tables there was a centerpiece. When they approached only Mazarin and Isabelle were there.

“Where’s everyone else?” Emery asked.

Mazarin shrugged as she pulled Jett over to sit next to her. She started filling him in on what he missed.

“Scribe’s getting something to eat.” Isabelle said.

“Holland and Kalenn are slow-dancing; it’s adorable. I think Avia and Kelly are talking to her dad. Not really sure where Walker is though.”

Jett suddenly realized how hungry he was. Asking the others if they wanted anything he got up and walked over to the food. He got himself a plate and then had to awkwardly try and hold it white pouring himself some punch. Then he noticed how stupid he looked. So he set the plate down and poured the punch. Just as he started walking back to the table Kelly walked up to him.

“How’d it go?” Jett asked.

“Feckin’ awkwardly, an’ probably horrible, to be honest.”

“Sorry, bud.”

Kelly shook his head; “Ye don’t get it, Jett. He’s more intimidatin’ than he looks an’ he’s got that scar on his face. Ye can’t ignore that shit. No matter how much ye try.”

“Hey, Jett, can I ask ya somethin’?” Kelly asked; clearly changing the subject.

“Sure, what’s up?”

Kelly explained the earlier events as quickly and clearly as he could. His hands moved about wildly and his talked too fast. But he repeated himself enough so Jett eventually got the gist.

“It’s not my place to say. That’s something you really gotta ask him, Kell.”

Jett walked back to the group’s table.

While Jett left him alone Avia walked up behind Kelly. She tapped him on the arm. He turned around with a smile. Avia grabbed his face and gave him a long, deep, kiss. His bright, blue, eyes went wide for a split second. Then he relented and melted into the kiss. When she let go she lead him by the hand to the dance floor.

~~~

The couple danced close.

Avia felt a tap on her shoulder. She ignored the obvious vie for her attention. Whoever this was they could wait. In this moment it was just her and Kelly. His arms were around her waist. She had placed her arms over his shoulders. They were looking into each other's eyes; swaying back and forth.

Whoever stood behind Avia loudly cleared their throat. They spoke with a conceited and very posh accent. The voice alone exuded a pompous and conceited air.

"Pardon my intrusion but I haven't given the birthday girl my respects."

Avia knew exactly who it was without needing to see his face.

Elias Dekkart.

He was the son of one of her father's business associates. Dallas Dekkart and Scout Carstairs had known each other since the earliest days of his business. She was one of the few people Scout trusted with his life. They often met for lunch or dinner to advise each other on business matters. From time to time the adults would spend entire days with one another surveying other business prospects.

Which meant that Avia and Elias had spent a lot of time together as young sprites. Over the years he developed an intense crush on her. While she never expressed even the slightest return of his affections he persisted. She hadn’t seen him in a very long time and she wanted to keep it that way. Hearing his voice put a damper on her mood but she had been taught better than to ignore guests no matter how unwanted they were.

So she put on a smile and turned around.

He wore a black pinstripe suit with a plain black tie. A silver tie clip kept the fabric in place. In his breast pocket sat a bright white pocket square; folded neatly. Wine red veins covered his daisy white skin. His chocolate brown eyes matched his perfectly coiffed hair. Everything about his attire and his look had a pretentious opulence to it. Even his stance was overtly grandiose.

"Oh, Elias, it's been so long I almost didn't recognize you," she said in an obviously bothered tone of voice.

"Whereas I could never forget your beautiful face. Many happy returns of the day, my dear."

He took her hand and kissed it gingerly. As he slowly, and very uncomfortably, let go Kelly stepped up next to Avia. She made a big show of kissing him. He understood what she was getting at so he too made a very obvious display as he hugged her. The message was clear and she hoped Elias would get it this time around.

She would never be his.

"Who might this be, my dear?"

The question was meant for Avia but she deferred to her boyfriend. It only made sense that he introduced himself after all. Kelly stared Elias down and stood on the balls of his feet; making himself appear even taller. Elias didn't seem to be intimidated but then again Kelly knew next to nothing about the young man.

"Name's Kelly Ronan O'Connor and I'm her boyfriend."

Elias stuck out his hand and introduced himself. Kelly didn't take the offered hand. Instead he muttered something about "being absolutely parched" and walked away. It was clear to both Avia and Elias that he was mocking the unwanted guest. Barely five feet away Kelly looks over his shoulder and cocked his head to the side. Avia saw the slight gesture and excused herself.

She turned around and called to Elias, mimicking his accent; “Don’t embarrass yourself by crying to mummy.”

Elias Dekkart was left alone.

~~~

The group spent the rest of the night having the best time. Scribe and Avia started devising a plan to get Elias out of her hair for good. In void of paper they had been typing notes in their phones and drawing maps on napkins. Jett, Mazarin, and Isabelle danced together. Holland and Kalenn were sitting at the group’s table making up stories about the other party-goers.

At some point in the night Emery took control of the DJ booth. He rummaged through the pre-set music before getting rid of all of it. With an over the top motion and gravitas he reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out one of the very few copies of Midnight Decoy’s first CD.

Without even giving it a second thought he put it on. Seeing the anger on Scout Carstairs’ face made him smile.

Almost out of nowhere Walker appeared at his side.

“Pissing off her old man?”

“You know it,” he said with a nod and a smirk.

“I have an idea. Be right back.”

Walker rushed off without another word.

Meanwhile Scout was sitting near the entrance. He was sitting with Paisley and Dallas Dekkart. The latter had five glasses of champagne and was starting on her sixth. The Carstairs siblings were daintily drinking their champagne in moderation. October, the ever dutiful butler, stood within earshot of Scout. Elias rushed over to his mother and tapped her on the shoulder. Dallas tried her best to hang on to her son’s words but she was very drunk.

He desperately threw some water in her face and said; “She told me off, mother. Her and her ginger boy toy. I was just trying to be nice.”

“What? Scout, is this true?” Dallas exclaimed.

“October, be a lamb and tell Avia to play nice,” Scout said.

“Don’t listen to him,” Paisley said. “She doesn’t like this sniveling brat and she’s quite within her rights to. He’s been after her since they were sprites.”

Unsure of what to do October walked over to the birthday girl anyway.

October stood there until Avia noticed them. Scribe actually took notice of the virus first. She tapped Avia on the shoulder and pointed toward October. Avia looked at them and they gestured to where Dallas and Elias were sitting. They began signing to her but then remembered that she didn’t know ASL. But it seemed that she figured it out quickly enough with the context. Avia eventually gathered the guts to tell October to roughly escort the Dekkarts out of her house. They did without the slightest hesitation. Much to their surprise Emery joined them. As they telepathically threw Elias and Dallas out the front door Emery stepped up next to them.

Just as Elias rose to his feet Emery let out a glass-shattering scream. Both of the Dekkarts fell on their backs.

Slamming the doors in the Dekkarts’ faces the two of them went back to the party. Instead of joining the others they hung around the buffet table and talked in ASL.

You sign fluently.

Thanks. Had a pretty good teacher.

You have stories don’t you?

Tell you mine if you tell me yours, Emery signed with a smirk.

Meanwhile Walker went around messing with the decorations. They made sure to do so without being seen. After a while Kalenn and Holland joined in. The trio went around popping balloons and tangling streamers. Emery went back to playing music from the unmanned DJ booth. Kelly began spraying, and drinking, the champagne over Avia like she just won NASCAR. Walker ran to the coat room and came back with bags full of silly string. They threw cans out to everyone and the group ran around spraying each other with silly string. Some overturned tables and teamed up as if they were playing paintball.

Scout watched all of this in silent horror.

“Leave them be, brother,” Paisley said; laying a hand on his shoulder. “They’re just kids. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”

She was right and they did. Tired, and out of ideas, Isabelle was the first to start dozing off. Over time they all began to succumb to the lull of sleep. Jett tried to rally the group so they could get back to the hotel. But Avia shot him in the face with silly string; effectively shutting him up. Emery and Mazarin laughed and after a bit so did Jett.

After a bit more of silly string fighting the group collapsed into a massive dog pile on the ballroom floor.

“Sleepover!” Mazarin yelled as she crawled into the pile.

#my writing #oc writing #larka's virus community #lvc #avia carstairs #scout carstairs #paisley carstairs #jett leach #mazarin leach #emery becker #kelly ronan o'connor #isabelle lombardi #scribe jenkins #holland ayer #kalenn birch #walker #october ispen

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