#i thought of getting lunch too.... i have money to spend for once but also i dont really like eating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teapartyprincess4two · 10 months ago

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Shopaholic- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Shopaholic!reader x boyfriend!Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, high maintenance reader, some suggestive content, sexual comments but no smut, small argument, slight cursing, shopping addiction, consumerism, hoarder tendencies, Chris can drive in this (bc I feel bad for him)

summary: No matter how hard you try, you just can’t stop swiping your card.

—

Your shopping addiction began innocently, just you and your friends occasionally going out in search of a new outfit for a party or special event. Slowly it became a hobby and you were spending multiple weekends at the mall trying to find something new. After a while it became your job and you were posting fashion videos on Instagram for other girls to follow and selling clothes on Depop for people who wanted to dress like you. Then it became an addiction, all you wanted to do was swipe your card and you couldn’t stop.

You’re currently on one of your many shopping sprees with your boyfriend Chris who you’ve dragged along against his will. He loves spending time with you, but he really, really hates shopping. In his opinion you do it too often and spend too much money, but he’s not the type to yuck anyone’s yum. Shopping is also socially draining for him, every time he joins you he finds himself dreading every second of it.

He stumbles behind you as you enter the 10th store of the day, his hands struggling to hold all the bags you dumped on him. “Y/n, let’s go home!” He groans, adjusting the bags further up his arm. You ignore him, going straight towards the back of the store where the clearance is. Just cause you love to shop and spend money doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate a good deal.

Chris groans and trudges behind you, accidentally knocking over some of the displays as the bags swing back and forth. He remembers a time when you weren’t such a shopaholic, a time when spending time with you meant going to the movies or out to lunch. Now, ever since gaining this new hobby, all you two seem to do is shop.

“Look at this, Chris! It’s so cute!” You exclaim, holding a red top against your chest so he can imagine you in it. He can’t help but roll his eyes, “you have that exact top already.” You huff, looking at the top again. “Oh you’re right,” you put the shirt back on the rack and continue looking for the next item you’ll add to your closet.

Chris watches as you struggle to find something new, probably because you have everything already. “You have all of this stuff already, babe. You don’t need anything else,” he says, attempting to lead you out of the store, but you’re strong willed and extremely determined to find at least one thing.

“I haven’t checked over here though,” you respond, walking in a completely opposite direction from the exit. He groans in annoyance as you disappear to the back of the story again. He gives up, there’s obviously no getting through to you. So, he sits on a bench outside the store as he waits for you to finish.

Chris occupies himself on his phone, completely surrounded by shopping bags full of clothes that you were sure to only wear once or twice and then resell on your Depop. After 30 minutes you walk out of the store with another 5 bags in hand, a huge smile on your face as you walk over to Chris. He wants to facepalm at the sight of you because he still doesn’t understand your obsession with spending so much money.

“Okay I’m ready to go home now,” you say with a smile, standing in front of Chris as he grabs all your previous bags. Once he gets up, he gives you a quick peck on the lips and immediately leads you out of the mall and to the car. If he takes a second longer you might second guess it and enter another store. He absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of another hour shopping.

Once you’re finally at the car you both load your bags into the trunk, it’s so overfilled that you struggle to close it. You get frustrated and get in the car, allowing Chris to deal with the problem. He’s a little annoyed, but he’s mostly glad to be going home. He works his magic, moving some bags into the middle seat so he can properly close the trunk before hopping into the drivers seat.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” He asks, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the busy streets. “Yeah, I can eat,” you reply, messing with the radio as you connect your phone to the car’s bluetooth. You were grateful that your boyfriend was so willing to spend time shopping with you despite it being his least favorite thing to do. So, you play his playlist for him in hopes that he won’t be too annoyed with you. One of his favorite songs blares loudly through the speakers immediately causing him to bop his head as he merges through traffic.

Chris turns the radio up, belting the lyrics to every song by heart. He is singing at the top of his lungs, looking towards you as he dedicates the lyrics of the love songs that play. You laugh, singing along with him when you know the words. Finally, he pulls up to his favorite restaurant, kissing you sweetly once the car is in park.

“We ate here last week,” you comment, grabbing all your things and shoving them into your purse. He sends you a warning look, a look that says ‘don’t start with me.’ A look that says, ‘I just spent hours carrying around your bags, let me have this ONE thing.’

You get the hint and put your arms up in defense, “You’re right sorry, babe.”

—

After eating, the two of you head back to your apartment. You work together to carry in the multitude of bags you accumulated throughout your shopping trip. Considering how late it is, most people would just dump everything near the front door and leave it for another day. Not you though, you’re too excited to try everything on.

Once you’re in your room, you immediately take everything out of the bags excitedly. Chris watches you attentively from your bed. You look like a kid on Christmas morning. He looks around your room, fully taking in the amount of things you’ve collected ever since acquiring this new hobby. He wouldn’t categorize you as a hoarder, but he can definitely tell that you have a shopping problem.

You sprawl all the clothes out onto the floor, crumpling bags and receipts in the process. Chris decides this is the perfect time for an intervention, “Y/n, you have too much stuff.” You look up from the piles of clothes in front of you, sending him an ugly look, “Chris, there is no such thing as too much stuff.” He rolls his eyes at your sassy attitude, getting up from the bed and walking over to your closet.

Chris opens the closet door dramatically, the slam of the door ringing through your room. Your closet is filled to the brim with clothes, shoes, purses, and you even have boxes labeled with seasonal clothes. “There is such a thing,” he retorts, not even looking into your closet because he knows his point has been made. You knew you had a problem, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from spending money when you found something cute.

“Babe you haven’t even worn half of this stuff,” Chris comments again with a laugh as he begins flipping through your closet. To be fair, you were extremely organized to the point that it felt like he was in a department store, but that still didn’t justify the amount of things you had. “That’s not true! Plus I’m selling some of it… eventually,” you mutter the last part, mostly because you don’t want to get rid of anything yet. “When was the last time you wore this?” He asks as he takes a random shirt off the rack, holding it out for you to see.

You get up from the floor, yanking the shirt from him dramatically. “I wore this on our first date,” you lie, trying to act offended. He rolls his eyes again at your attempt to pull at his heart strings, he knows you’re lying. “Y/n that shirt literally still has the tag on it,” he tugs at the tag, wagging it in your face. You could fool anyone, but not Chris. He knew you well enough to realize that you had a problem.

“Whatever, but I’m still going to wear it soon. I just haven’t found the right time. Plus I kept the tag on in case I want to sell it on Depop,” your words come out a mile a minute as you try to justify this addiction that’s gotten out of hand. He knows there’s no winning with you, especially not when shopping is involved, so he just sighs dramatically and goes back to his spot on your bed.

After a while Chris becomes occupied by his phone, not interested in the previous topic anymore. Since he’s not pestering you anymore, you try on all the clothes you purchased today. Occasionally you’ll ask him for his opinion on something, but he just gives you half-ass replies. Even if he thinks you look great in everything you try on he doesn’t say it because he can’t encourage this behavior or you’ll never stop.

“I’m tired,” he yawns, kicking his shoes off and turning his phone off, placing it on your bedside table. He has to balance it on top of all the other trinkets on your table. Chris was hoping you two would do other things tonight, but you were too distracted by all tour new stuff to care about him. “Sleep baby, I’ll be done in a bit,” you reply as you organize all the clothes into your closet.

Chris groans in annoyance, grabbing some of his spare clothes from one of your drawers. Even his drawer was filled with your stuff. Granted this wasn’t his house, but it was the singular drawer he had for himself here. He quickly changes, throwing his dirty clothes in a random corner of your room before going to the restroom to brush his teeth.

When he returns he finds you dressed and ready for bed. “You finally done being a princess?” He asks playfully, wrapping his arms around your waist slowly so he can pull you into him. You roll your eyes as you drape your arms around his neck, “a princess’s job is never done.” Chris chuckles at this, leaning in for a kiss.

—

“The movie starts in an hour,” Chris says as he walks into your room, taking a seat on your bed. You’re currently doing your makeup, adding all the finishing touches. “I’m almost done, I just have to do my hair,” you reply, popping your lips as you apply a thick layer of lip gloss. You’ve been getting ready for hours, how is your hair still not done? “It looks good like that, babe. C’mon we’re gonna be late,” he replies in a whiny tone as he attempts to convince you that the movie was more important than your hair. In his opinion it actually looked good, but he knows you won’t be easily swayed.

You give him a blank stare through the mirror, “Chris I CANNOT go like this.” You pick a few strands of hair up, shaking them in the air. He laughs at this, deciding to just let you have your way. “Fine, but be quick please.” He gets up for your bed, walking over you and kissing your cheek quickly before heading back to the living room.

After another 30 minutes you’re finally done, tugging your shoes on quickly and grabbing your purse as you rush out of your room. Chris was waiting for you patiently in the living room, the amount of patience that man has for you is astonishing. He takes a quick look at you and before you can ask if you look okay he says, “you look sexy, let’s go.” Of course he means it, but he can’t gush over your appearance for too long or you’ll miss the movie. You roll your eyes, following behind him as he rushes to the car.

You arrive at the movie theater 5 minutes before the movie starts, grabbing a bucket of popcorn and a large drink to share as quick as possible before rushing to find your seats. Despite the lack of time management on your part, Chris is still excited to be doing something that doesn’t involve walking around the mall for hours on end.

“You good?” Chris whispers to you during the middle of the movie, popping a couple of pieces of popcorn in his mouth. You hum in response, leaning in for a quick kiss. He tastes like salt and butter. When you break from the kiss he smiles at you before turning back to the movie.

In reality you were really bored. Chris chose the movie and has been excited to watch it for a long time. You wanted to protest and suggest a different movie, but he’s always putting up with your nonsense so you decided to let him have this one thing. You watch as the characters on screen engage in dialogue and you have no idea what the context behind it is. You look back at Chris, hoping to catch his attention, but he’s too immersed in the plot to notice.

You huff in annoyance, turning back to the screen and attempting to enjoy the remainder of the movie. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to find the movie interesting. Before you know it your hands begin to wander onto Chris’s thigh, lingering there for a while before slowly inching up towards his crotch. He sends you a warning look, squeezing your hand and placing it further back up his thigh. You repeat your actions, but are met with the same response from Chris.

Another huff of annoyance leaves your mouth. You’ll just have to watch the rest of the movie and pretend you know what’s going on.

—

The movie ends and Chris looks like he’s just watched the best thing on Earth. “That was such a crazy ending,” he comments, standing from his seat with the popcorn bucket still in hand. You grab the drink and do the same, holding his hand as he leads you out of the theater. “Who was that big guy? The guy at the end,” you ask, tossing the soda away.

Chris halts in his steps, turning towards you in shock. “The main character?! Y/n were you even watching?!” He exclaims in disbelief, the whole movie was about that specific character. “Oh right,” you reply, pretending to remember the entire plot of the movie. Chris gives you a dumbfounded look, tossing the popcorn bucket away. You smile at him, he definitely knows you weren’t paying attention throughout the entire movie.

He holds your hand as he leads you towards the car, both of you getting in and deciding on your next destination. The night is still young and you’re really hoping that Chris will take you to a new store you heard about. "Baby, there's this new store I heard about on TikTok. Do you think you can take me?" you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes and everything.

It doesn't work, "Y/n, no."

"Pleaseeeee. I promise I'm just going to look around, I won't buy anything, I promise," you plead as he pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving home. He doesn't budge so you decide to pull out the big guns, “I’ll suck your dick.” This seems to do it because he changes direction before replying with a quick, “fine.”

You’re now in the store, your eyes lighting up at the racks of clothes in front of you. Now that you’re in here you regret promising not to buy anything, it’s not like he expected you to keep that promise anyway. “I’m gonna go this way,” you say excitedly, dragging Chris along with you as you head towards the back of the store.

As you look through the racks of clothing, Chris is talking nonstop about the movie. Occasionally you’ll reply, but you don’t remember enough details about the movie to say anything worthwhile. You’re obviously not paying attention and after a while he becomes annoyed, “Y/n, are you even listening?”

You hum in response, adjusting the stack of clothes that was resting against your arm. “I am, baby. Keep talking,” you reply haphazardly, adding yet another shirt to your growing pile. Chris glares at you, but decides to continue sharing his thoughts on the movie.

You’re still not paying attention. He’s asked you at least 5 questions and has received nothing in response, not even a hum. “I’m going to wait in the car,” he says annoyed. You look up at him briefly with a small smile, “okay, babe. I’m almost done.” Chris rolls his eyes as he walks out of the store and to the car.

After an hour you’re finally done, walking out of the store with 3 bags full of clothes. Did you need any of it? No. Did you want all of it? Yes. You tap on the car window and signal for Chris to open the trunk. He complies with a straight face. You dump all your bags into the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat.

“Thank you for waiting,” you say, going in for a quick kiss. “Mmhmm,” he replies as he dodges you causing your kiss to land on his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently.

He doesn’t hold back, he doesn’t have to with you. “You know what’s funny? How I always do what you want to do and the one time we do what I want to do, the ONE time, you can’t even be bothered to pretend to care.” You two don’t make a habit of arguing, but your recent behavior has gotten out of hand. He feels like you’ve been so selfish lately and he has to get everything he’s feeling off his chest.

You’re about to reply, but he’s not done, “For once it would be nice if my girlfriend treated me like her boyfriend, not like a fucking butler. You only want me around to carry your damn bags and swipe my damn card.” That last part wasn’t true, you never asked him to buy you things, but the thought of him as your butler was slightly amusing.

You decide to stay silent, wanting to see how he really feels. “Like, can you at least try to pretend to care about what I have to say? You weren’t even listening to me in there! I get it if you’re bored, Y/n. I really do,” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “But don’t you think I get bored following you around the stupid mall all the time? That’s all we fucking do!”

You open your mouth to speak, but he still isn’t done, “It’s not like you need any more stuff anyways. You literally have a problem, Y/n!”

The car goes silent for a while as you wait just in case another rant was coming. It would be easy to get offended at Chris’s little outburst, but you understood where he was coming from. He was such a great boyfriend who always worked towards keeping you happy and you were ignoring him in the store.

“Are you done?” you ask with a small chuckle.

“Are you done?” he mocks. “Am I done? Yes im fucking done.”

The whole situation seemed ridiculous, especially considering that you two never argue. If this is the biggest problem in your relationship, it’s an easy fix. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t care,” you start, pausing in case he feels the sudden urge to interrupt. He looks at you expectantly, he knows he deserves an apology and if he deems it good enough then maybe he’ll apologize for being so harsh with you.

“Next time you don’t have to come shopping with me if you don’t want to and if it makes you feel better, I’ll stop,” you say, feeling a slight pain in your heart at the thought of never shopping again. “It would actually,” he mumbles with his arms crossed over his chest. He would never actually make you stop shopping, you were spending your own money and he had no right to tell you what to do with it. You chuckle at his sassiness before continuing, “and you’re right, I don’t need any more stuff.”

“Yeah, I am right.”

“Alright you’re pushing it, buddy,” you chuckle. He looks at you as he tries to hold in his laughter. “I was a little dramatic, sorry,” he admits, offering you an apologetic smile. “A little? You called yourself my butler.” He laughs again at this, but he goes back to his serious tone from before as he says, “Y/n, you actually have a problem though.”

“I know,” you reply in defeat. “Here just take it,” you hand him your wallet, looking away dramatically.

“I’ll hold onto this for safe keeping,” he jokes, putting it in his pocket. You were sure to go through his things later and find it anyways. He knows this won’t last and that’s okay, your shopping addiction isn’t actually harming anyone.

“As you should, my butler. Now take me home,” you command with a clap of your hands. He laughs, putting the car in drive. “You’re going to call me that from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

This was sitting in the drafts for a while.

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x y/n #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #chris x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfiction #Christopher sturniolo fanfiction

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ladykailitha · 9 months ago

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The Harrington Pattern Part 5

Hello! In this one we have things not getting off to the fun start Steve wanted, but Eddie and Steve show Robin the meditative joys of watching the weavers. And Mike and El get a lesson in when to give to friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Once they had all paid Steve gathered up the kids.

“You are to stay in pairs,” he admonished. “I don’t care if you swap every so often but stay in at least pairs. You can stay in great big group for all I care. But no one wanders off alone. If you want to do something and no one else does come find an adult, chances are that one of us six was already going to do it, okay?”

All the kids nodded.

“Everyone is to meet here at 1pm and 6pm for lunch and dinner,” Steve continued. “The adults are exempt but I tried to pick times where there wasn’t anything big going on. Food money was given to me by your parents so you’ll never starve. Drinking fountains are everywhere. Stay hydrated, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Will nodded. “I’ll make sure they do.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, Will.” He held up his hand as they were getting into pairs. “One more thing. Your parents gave you money for loot. If you spend it all today and see something you want on Saturday, I will not buy it for you. Now I can’t stop anyone else from doing the same, but you need to watch your money.”

Eddie looked at the other Corroded Coffin boys who all nodded. “I think I can speak for us adults when I say. I ain’t paying for your shit either.”

All the kids turned to Robin like a lion sensing its prey.

“Don’t look at me,” she huffed holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m poor. I’m hoping that someone pretty will buy me pretty things so I don’t have to go without.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Looks like you’ve been stemmed–stymied–” he frowned. “Looks like you’ve been thwarted all around.”

The kids grumbled but nodded.

Steve smiled. “Now go have fun! I promise, you’ll love it.”

Max and El grabbed each other’s hands and skipped ahead of the boys. Robin smiled.

“That’s the downside to growing up,” she sighed wistfully. “Is adults no longer think holding hands with your best friend is cute, only gay.”

Eddie nodded. “I just don’t care most of the time,” he said with a shrug.

Steve turned to the members of the band. “Are you guys going to be staying together for the most part or will you be splitting up? I just want to make sure I know where people are going to be.”

Gareth and Jeff shared an amused glance.

“What?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Eddie said you were such a mom friend,” Gareth explained, “but I didn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, man,” Jeff chuckled. “It’s cute.”

Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot.

Brian waved his hands. “It’s not bad. It’s just a surprise.”

Jeff cocked his head to side. “Maybe not that big of one after seeing how he handled Mike...”

Brian laughed. “Fair enough.”

Eddie walked over and lifted Steve’s chin up gently. “It’s sweet, Stevie. We aren’t mocking you for it, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Suddenly Robin coughed into her fist that sounded a little like ‘gay’.

Eddie and Steve almost leaped back from each other while their friends laughed.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Eddie muttered as he stalked past his friends.

Steve just stood there as the rest of them followed Eddie in. All but Robin.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she mumbled. “I thought you two were cute, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That’s the last thing I thought it would do.”

Steve just shrugged and then led the way into the Fair grounds. Robin’s eyes lit up as the sights, and sounds, and smells came at her all at once.

There were people in jeans and t-shirts but also people in various states of costume, ranging from beginner to professional. The period ranges were vast, too. From the early 14th century to the very, very beginning of the 20th.

Robin was in awe.

“Steeeeveeee,” she said, smacking his arm repeatedly. “This is amazing!”

Steve turned to her and smiled. “I told you.”

She hugged him around the neck. “You did and you were right. Those kids brains must have exploded on entry.”

He chuckled. “Well, thankfully I don’t see any brain goo anywhere, so I think they’re safe.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Where do you want to go first?” Steve asked, taking a pamphlet from Fair worker that had all the events and times on it.

She peeked over his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully.

“There isn’t a lot going on today.”

Steve shrugged. “All the big events like the joust are going to be on Saturday when they have the biggest crowds. But there are still some fun things we can do.” He pointed to the events under that day. “We can watch the weavers or battle a knight.”

“You better not do that one,” she said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why? Because you think I’ll lose?”

She swatted his arm. “No, dingus, because you might accidentally pulverize the guy.”

Suddenly there was another arm being slung around Steve’s shoulders.

“I must concur with the lady pirate, mi’lord,” Eddie said cheerfully. “I’ve seen you fight, handsome. You’d accidentally kill the poor actor.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

He looked around but he didn’t see the rest of Eddie’s merry band. “Where are your friends?”

Eddie sighed. “Already succumbed the siren lures of capitalism.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “Huh?”

Eddie pointed a little further down the way where the market had been set up. “They’re at the sword stall.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O and he nodded. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that’s where the kids are, too.”

“That’s because there is nothing else to do,” Robin pointed out. “Not all of us want to watch people make clothes.”

Eddie’s lit up. “They’re already showing the weavers?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you want to come with me?”

“Hell yeah!” he crowed. He grabbed Robin’s wrist. “You’ll love this.”

And he started dragging her to where the looms, Steve laughing, close behind.

They reached building it was housed in and Eddie stepped aside to allow her to see into the room.

It was brightly lit from them many windows in the room. There were different looms from different eras and different levels of expertise. There was even a cute little blonde girl barely older than Holly, Mike’s little sister in one corner with her starter loom, still making mistakes but being patiently guided by someone who looked to be her mom.

But the true center piece was this amazing Asian loom at the back. The weaver was in a kimono and face paint, but her hands danced along the loom making it seem like she had more than usual two.

Robin was smitten.

Eddie smiled back at her and then grabbed her wrist again to pull her into the room.

The little girl’s mother looked up and smiled at them. “Welcome!” she greeted warmly. “We, of the weavers guild, greet you. I am Goody Danvers. If you have any questions please direct them at me so our weavers aren’t disturbed.”

All three of them nodded and began to wander around. Robin was forced to admit that it was way more than just making clothes or even cloth. It was artistry and technique that was just beautiful to watch.

She was, of course, drawn to the Asian loom with its beautiful weaver.

Steve on the other hand went straight for Goody Danvers. He was asking her all sorts of questions and she just lit up with someone expressing genuine interest in the weaving.

Then Steve asked the question. “You thread is amazing. Do you spin it yourself?”

Goody Danvers face was like the sun with how happy that question made her. “We do! Do you guys want to see how we do it?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically while Robin was loathed to leave the beautiful weaver.

“You go ahead,” she murmured never taking her eyes off the scene the woman was weaving into her tapestry.

Steve’s shoulders slumped a little. But Eddie came skipping up to them. “Prick any princesses’ fingers lately?” he teased Goody Danvers.

She wagged her finger at him. “Do you be going around calling me a witch, I might get burned at the stake.”

Steve and Eddie laughed and mimed zipping their lips closed and throwing away the key.

She led them to the backroom where there were other women spinning. Steve figured these were the ones that didn’t like being watched because more than half of them stopped what they were doing the moment they walked in.

He smiled his best babysitter smile and waved like an absolute dork. One of the teenaged girls blushed and turned away.

Eddie frowned, putting his hands on his lower back. He was about to turn back around and rejoin Birdie when he felt a warm hand on his elbow. Steve wasn’t looking at the pretty red-head that blushed at his dorky wave, he was looking at him. Hazel eyes almost antique silver in the natural light.

“You okay?” Steve whispered.

Eddie nodded. “It’s just dustier in here than I thought it would be.”

Goody Danvers nodded. “No fire of any kind allowed in this room. A simple spark could cause a powder keg in here and I don’t feel like leveling the Fair this year.”

“What type of materials do you use for your thread?” Steve asked, his hand never leaving Eddie’s elbow.

And they just listened to her talk about the different types of threads and what they were used for and Eddie felt the warmth in Steve’s presence as he paid her his rapt attention.

Was that was he looked like when he talked about DnD or metal music? Because if it was Steve never looking away from him when talked suddenly made a lot of sense. It was addicting watching Steve engage with someone who shared his interests.

Steve looked down at his watch. “Shit. We’ve got to go meet some people for lunch. But thank you for taking your time to show me everything and answer all my questions.”

Good Danvers smiled. “The pleasure was all mine. It was nice to find a young man who was so interested in what I had to say.” She walked over to a basket.

“Here, pick out a bundle of thread you like as my treat.”

Steve really lit up then. “Thanks!” He went through the basket and picked out this beautiful red silk thread.

“Good choice,” she said. “I know you’ll make something truly remarkable with it.”

Steve blushed and said thank you again as Eddie led him out. They were forced to drag Robin back out of the building.

“Food,” Steve insisted. “Actually...” he had spotted a water fountain. “Water first then food.”

Eddie took a long drink, his throat dry from the spinning room. Robin went next and then Steve.

They barely made it to the food court just under the wire. Some of the kids were already there. Max and Lucas, Dustin, too. Gareth was there, but Jeff and Brian weren’t yet.

Dustin looked at his watched and tapped like a disapproving father. “Just what time do you call this, hmmm?”

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Like father like son,” Eddie teased.

Dustin gasped, offended.

It wasn’t too long before El, Mike, and Will showed up, cutting it even finer than they had, arriving at 1pm exactly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow as they skidded to a stop in front of their table.

Steve got them their food and most of them were half way through their lunch by the time Jeff and Brian had wandered into the food court.

Everyone was talking about all the things they had seen and their plans for the rest of the day and maybe Steve was more than a little pleased that they hadn’t spent all their money.

Everyone was talking but Will. So Steve slid over to the young boy and nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” he whispered.

Mike looked up at them and then began to poke at his plate.

Alarm bells were going off in Steve’s head.

“There was this really cool wizard’s staff at one of the stalls,” Will said. “But it costs ten dollars more than what I have on me.”

“I offered to give him some of mine,” Mike said, “but he wouldn’t take it.”

Steve got it. “Ah.”

“It’s your money, Mike,” Will protested. “Buy something you want.”

“I want to buy it for you,” Mike bit back.

El poked at her food too. “I too, offered to help him buy it but he wouldn’t let me either.”

Eddie stood up and motioned for Mike and El to follow him, while Steve scooted closer to Will. “I’m sorry you couldn’t afford it and it’s hard when you want something so bad and it’s just out of reach.”

Will nodded. “But somehow I don’t think you specifically are talking about a wizard’s staff.”

Steve looked up at were Eddie was talking to Mike and El, and then ducked his head shyly. “No, you’re right there.”

Will gave his hand a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think he likes you too.”

Steve squeezed his hand right back. He just hoped Will was right.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @dolphincliffs @child-of-cthulhu @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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thewritetofreespeech · 10 months ago

Note

Could I request Gojo's reaction to his s/o, who has the ability to perceive the future, getting harassed because her client's not happy about their future?

Satoru hummed a happy little tune as he walked down the busy streets of Tokyo to go see his wife.

He had been blessed with an unusual day off after a quick meeting with the ‘old men’; probably because they were so annoyed with him that they just wanted him to go away. Still, it was a rare treat. So he thought he would surprise his wife by taking her to lunch. She could afford to close the shop for a day.

The sorcerer giggled a little as he wondered if she knew he was coming. With her innate ability to see and predict the future, it was hard to pull surprises on her. But he always tried. Taking the challenge on at every turn to keep his wife guessing and marriage spicy.

“That’s not right! You’re a liar!!”

Satoru’s eyebrows jutted up over his sunglasses, hearing the yelling once he had come in the door. He walked in further to the shop towards the back, where [Y/N] would hold private readings, and saw a woman who had clearly just jumped up from the table and was pointing at [Y/N].

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the angry looking woman, “but that’s what I see.”

“No! That’s not true! He promised he would leave his wife and be with me! That has to be what my future will be next year!”

“I mean….there’s a possibility that the prediction could change. The future isn’t set in stone but-“No buts! I want my money back!”

“I can’t give you your money back just because you don’t like your prediction. This is a business. If you wanted someone to just agree with you, then you should have just called a friend.”

“They told me to come here! I see now that they just wanted me to get cheated too! You’re nothing but a liar and a con artist! I know my future and it’s to be with him, and you’re just making this up because you’re alone & jealous!”

“If you knew your future, then why did you even come here? Clearly there’s some underlying trust issues if you asked your friends, I assume family, and now a premonitions expert. This is just free advice at this point but maybe this relationship isn’t what you want for you’re future.”

The woman went full red at this point and raised her hand to presumably strike [Y/N]. She never got the chance though as Satoru grabbed her forearm to stop it just as soon as it was raised. “Now, now. Let’s have none of that.”

The woman looked startled and jerked out of his grasp and away from him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Just a concerned customer.” He replied with a cheeky grin, which he could see that [Y/N] did not appreciate out of the corner of her eye. “And also, her husband.”

The woman’s face went from shocked, to a mixture of crushed, back to angry. Clearly realizing that the only person alone in the room was her, but not yet willing to accept it. “I want my money back! Or I’ll sue!”

“Go ahead.” Satoru told her. Then pressed his fingers to his temple, “but I see an arrested in your future if you keep pressing this. Attempted battery is almost just as serious as if you actually landed that punch.” The woman let out an angry huff, then grabbed her belongings and dashed out. “Another satisfied customer.”

“Don’t be mean Satoru.” [Y/N] replied once they were alone and stood up to clean the mess the woman had made of her reading table. “It’s not my fault she’s chosen a hard path. I didn’t even have to use my ability to tell her this wasn’t going to end well. What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded. Delusional people like that only want to hear what they want to hear.” No one needed psychic abilities to see that.

“What are you doing here by the way?”

“Oh! I came to take you to lunch!” In the commotion, he almost forgot why he was there. “The old men gave me the day off, so I thought I would spend it with you.”

“That’s nice.” [Y/N] said with a smile. “But I have to work Satoru.”

“Why?” He asked with a pout. “You know we don’t need the money. I know you like to work but….you can take off for one day. Plus, shouldn’t you get hazard time for almost having a client flip a table on you?”

[Y/N] chuckled a little. Even if it was a sad sort of noise. “Well…I guess you’re right. The shop will be fine if we close early for today.”

“Hooray!”

Satoru helped her clean up the last little bit and they left. He asked her once, when they were dating, to use her powers on him but she said that she couldn’t. His future had too many variables. Too full of potential. But he knew, even when they first met, that his future was going to be with her.

He didn’t need psychic abilities to see that.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #female reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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emeritusemeritus · 9 months ago

Note

Rough sex with reader with both Weasley twins? Just after a hard day at Weasley Wizard Wheezes, both men are pent up with the amount of problems that had in just literally one day. This could range from a customer to you possibly trying to tease the shit out of them before fleeing away. 🤭 I hope this isn’t too big of an idea and I’ll leave the rest up to by you. 🫶

Hi Anon! Please accept this offering as a token of my appreciation 🖤 I set it at Christmas time for reasons unknown to me, mostly because I thought it would be super busy?

Warnings: SMUT. Piv, blowjobs, oral (f&m receiving) use of Angel/baby/sweetheart/princess. Slightly Dom/sub behaviours. Rough sex. Cumplay. Polyamory, kind of?

Word count: 3k (of pure smut)

Yuletide stress relief.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was bursting with shoppers since the moment the doors had opened that morning, a sea of people already lined up right down the street stretching all the way down past Ollivanders. Since the moment the doors had opened, it had been non-stop work with customers who were packed in like sardines across all five floors of the shop, desperately searching for Christmas presents for their loved ones.

Although he was always thankful for the success of their business, Fred was completely exhausted and a little worn down by the relentlessness of the day.

He'd been up early, having to leave the two warm bodies in the comfy bed, and had dressed quickly, not even stopping to get a cup of tea or any breakfast and had gone straight to the office to sort out a cash discrepancy he'd noticed upon closing last night. After recounting all the gold from yesterday and revising all the paperwork, he had eventually found the accounting issue and then had to redo all the paperwork.

George turned up to help with opening the store and they'd quickly discovered that they were running low of the Peruvian instant darkness powder crystals which would be a devastating loss to their business this close to Christmas with it being one of their best sellers and the top money spinner.

Fred had once again climbed the multiple stairs to the office and had checked in the books, seeing that a shipment was actually due to arrive this week but when he looked at the number ordered, he realised the grave mistake he'd made. Instead of ordering it in individual batches like usual, he'd confused the numbers and had ordered 60 crates instead which would be a massive overbuy and therefore a massive overspend. It was imported from Peru and the cost of shipping was astronomical, so he had really made a grave mistake. Not only that but the darkness powder had a relatively short shelf life compared to some of their other products and so it could be a complete financial loss.

Running his hands over his face and through his hair, he made his way down the stairs to begrudgingly tell his twin of his error, only to realise that the store was already open and the shop was already packed with customers needing help left, right and center. He'd not taken a single break that day nor stopped for any lunch, working right through as the heavy flow of customers never dwindled. A kid had knocked over a display of wonderwitch products requiring a massive cleanup, even though the child's mother had cast a spell to prevent the rest from falling and it had fallen to Fred to clean up the mess, seeing that his twin was currently helping a large family, Verity was stuck with a line of customers at the till and their temporary Christmas staff were all dotted about busy with other tasks.

He'd thought multiple times during the day to send you an owl to ask you to help out, but he'd never actually got the chance to slip away for long enough. He knew you'd come if he asked but he also didn't want to bother you on your day off, knowing that you were spending it at the Burrow with his mum, busy making preparations for Christmas next week.

When the doors to the shop closed around 7pm and the last of the customers trailed out of the store around 10 minutes past, Fred let out a sigh of relief as he flicked his wand and cast the closing spells, locking the doors.

He couldn't even bring himself to make conversation with his twin, who in striking contact to himself was buzzing from the successful day. He trudged up the stairs, not trusting himself to apparate into the office in his exhaustion; the last thing he needed today was to get splinched because he wasn't paying enough attention.

He was nearly finished with the nightly paperwork when the door to the office creaked open and you walked through with a wide smile on your face, seeing him for the first time that day. Usually he loved to see your smile, even more so when he knew it was because of him, but after the day he'd had and the foul mood that had settled within him, the smile on your face only exasperated how he was feeling, resenting the fact that you'd had a much easier day than him.

"Hey Freddie," you said with a smile, walking over to him and hopping up on the desk. He looked dishevelled to say the least, his jacket thrown off, shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms and tie hanging loosely around his neck, clearly having been loosed hastily. He looked unbelievably hot, like his hand had been repeatedly running through his hair making that ultra sexy dishevelled look.

He hardly looked up, which you thought was strange, simply nodding his head as if to tell you that he'd heard you and acknowledging your presence. Realising he was busy, you move to hop off the desk ready to walk away, immediately feeling like you were intruding and bothering him.

"Princess wait,” he says, stopping you from walking away, casting his arm out to grab at you. He pauses when he feels your bare skin under his hand, your dress having ridden up when you climbed onto the desk. For the first time, his eyes flick up to you, specifically your bare thigh that his hand is wrapped around.

The sudden change in atmosphere seems to affect you almost instantly. His eyes are piercing, dark as they look at your skin under his hand and you don’t need to be a skilled occlumens to know exactly what is going through his mind. When his hand squeezes down on your flesh, you know exactly what he’s thinking and you can’t help but feel a little flushed with the influx of arousal that spreads through your body.

For the first time, his gaze travels across your body and up towards your face until he’s looking in your eyes. It’s tense for a moment when nothing happens until he suddenly stands from the chair, right in front of you and nudging your legs apart until they’re pulled taught either side of his hips. His tongue pokes out and wets his lips as he gazes at you hungrily and you can almost see your chest rising and falling with the sudden need to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Wanna be my good girl?” He says, leaning down slightly, towering over you as his hands dance along the hemline of your dress, thumbs teasing the skin of your thighs as your legs part even wider automatically. He smirks to himself, not missing the way your body always submits to him so willingly as he takes a step back. You nod, staring up at him with wide, imploring eyes awaiting your instruction.

Your gaze follows his hands as they pull away from your thighs and go straight to his belt, unlooping it, opening up his belt buckle and pulling open the buttons until he can free himself. He reaches into his underwear and pulls out his hardening cock as you watch on desperately, mouth watering at the sight.

“Suck it baby,” he says with a slight coo, “want your beautiful lips around me.”

You do as your told almost immediately, maintaining eye contact with him as you slip down off the desk so that you’re eye level with his perfect clock. Ensuring that he’s watching your every move, you timidly stick out your tongue and lock all around the head of his cock, watching closely as his eyes close on their own accord, a heavy breath falling from his lips. You take his rapidly hardening cock into your mouth seconds later, as much as you can and give one long, drawn out suck that causes him to let out a low, breathy moan. You bob up and down on his cock, running your tongue against the prominent veins underneath and try to take more and more in your mouth just like you know he likes. His hand rests in your hair but he does it to feel, not to control as gorgeous intimate moans fall from his lips, his eyes flicking between watching you and closing in pleasure.

“Well this is a sight,” you hear from behind you, making you moan against Fred’s cock. You pull off Fred’s cock, a string of spit trailing between you and his swollen member as you turn your head towards George who looks at you with a lustful gaze. You’re buzzing with arousal, being caught with a mouth full of cock, feeling so dirty by the thought.

“Princess,” Fred says, pulling your attention back to him as you slowly lick all up the sensitive underside before taking him back into your mouth.

George appears by your side in moments and begins unbuckling his own suit trousers, freeing himself and reaching down for your hand as he moves to stand beside Fred. Your hand wraps around his length and you stroke it just how he likes, feeling him harden in your hand.

Both of them moan out at the same time when you switch sides, taking George in your mouth and wrapping your hand around Fred, feasting on them both. You alternate between the twins, your hands never leaving their cocks as you give them pleasure, enjoying the glorious sounds they are unashamedly making.

As soon as you take Fred into your mouth, George slips out of your grasp and reaches for your dress, tearing at it and pulling it open until your breasts spill out, having taken off your bra the moment you got in. You gasp, feeling your nipples harden under the cold air and the feeling of being exposed and it’s mere seconds before George’s hands greedily grab at them.

Fred pulls you off his cock, his hand gently cupping your jaw as he looks at you with lust blown eyes for a second before turning to his twin who seems to have the same idea.

In a manoeuvre so slick it surprised you, Fred picks you up and exits the office with a slight slam of the door, carrying you bridal style all the way through the apartment until he places you on the bed. You watch as George steps through the doors, looking at them both eyeing you hungrily with their cocks still out and you have to bite your lip, so overwhelmingly aroused and untouched that it’s near painful.

George steps forward first, crawling up your body on the bed until he leads you into a surprisingly passionate kiss. Whilst you’re kissing George, you feel Fred reach up your dress and pull down your underwear, the wet gusset feeling heavy, drenched in your arousal. Your hips flail trying to make contact as you spread your legs, hearing Fred curse at the sight in front of him.

George pulls away and gives you a little smirk before he begins to kiss down your body, stopping to feast on your heaving chest before he carries on further and further downwards until his lips ghost over your mound.

The second his tongue laps as your heated, wet flesh you cry out, back arching in pleasure. You look down and see his eyes watching you as he feasts on your cunt, lips and tongue already working you perfectly as he sucks and slurps at your clit.

Fred appears next to you and holds out his cock for you to take back into your mouth, the angle a little awkward but your make do. It’s so sinfully dirty having one twin feasting on your cunt whilst you suck off the other one and you can’t help but feel your climax building already, so worked up.

“I don’t think so Angel,” George says, pulling away from your weeping cunt, hips undulating desperately as your climax fades. “When you cum it’s going to be on our cocks.”

Both twins pull away from you as they quickly throw off the rest of their clothes and you sit up on the bed, tits exposed in your ripped dressed waiting for them.

George gets to you first, pulling you in for a scorching kiss as his hands wander, gathering the material of your dress in his fists. It’s quick and oh so arousing when he suddenly reaches out and manhandles you, flipping you over until you’re on your front, hips high in the air for him. He pushes up the material of your dress, completely exposing you to their gaze and you bite your lip once again when you hear their breathy moans, curses and playful banter, talking about your pretty little wet cunt.

George’s cock slips between your wet lips with ease, your gasps only fuelling his desire to get inside you. The second he slips inside you cry out in ecstasy, finally feeling full just like you needed. He’s rough and sets a brutal pace almost instantly, both of you keyed up enough to take it.

“You like that Angel? You like when I’m rough with you?” His deep voice says from behind you, making your clench around him. “Mmm yeah you do, dirty girl.”

Fred slips beside you on the bed and captures your lips into a blistering kiss, his big hands squeezing at your bouncing tits, thumbs stroking over your hard nipples. You cry out about into Fred’s mouth as George shifts and gets even deeper.

“Fuuuuck that’s it baby, use me just like that, fuck yourself on me,” he cries out when you begin to meet his hard thrusts, arching your back further.

It’s dirty and messy, the feel of their hands on you, Fred’s on your tits and George’s gripping your hips tight as he controls your movements. You can feel him start to lose his tempo, thrusts getting sloppy and harder until he’s fucking you with force, no doubt watching as your ass jiggles for him.

“Fuck gonna make me cum Angel, oh fuck!” He cries out as you clench him again, making your pussy even tighter around his sensitive cock.

You reach out for Fred’s spare hand as George starts to cum, hips slamming into yours as your moans mix with George’s and echo through the bedroom. You feel like you can feel every single shot of cum filling you as George roars, his load shooting deep inside you as he continues sloppily thrusting in and out of you.

Fred gives you almost no time to recover when George pulls away breathless. He pulls you up, pulls you into a dangerously arousing kiss as he peels the useless fabric away from your frame, leaving you completely nude for him. He turns you around and lays you on the bed before slipping inside your open legs, grabbing them and throwing them over his shoulders.

You’re already oversensitive pussy burns in the most delicious way as you feel the weight of his impossibly hard cock hitting your clit. You cry out, reaching for your breasts as he devilishly taps his cock on your clit, rubbing and giving you the most delicious friction just like you need. He slips his cock inside you and you scream out, feeling him deep inside you, deeper than George had been, your body so sensitive and needy for an orgasm. He leans forward and puts his hands either side of your head, contorting you exactly as he wants you, leans down to give you a single kiss and a smirk before he draws his hips back and slams back inside you. Your whole body rocks with the movement, his pace already fast and brutal as he fucks into you for all he’s worth. It’s nasty and dirty, the mix of his brutal thrusts and teasing smirk and you claw at his back as you cry out. He curses and groans with each thrust as your pussy grips him, climax building deep in your belly.

“Fred, fuck!” You cry out, his cock staying deep inside you as he gives you short, hard thrusts, your clit rubbing deliciously on his pubic bone.

“That’s it sweetheart, fuck you’re so tight, cum for me baby, cum on me.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, his voice so arousing, his words so demanding that your body submits to him instantly. You can’t stop moaning as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own rapidly approaching. His arms bulge under his own weight, a delicious sight as you canter your hips to meet his thrusts, watching as his eyes close, his face scrunching up.

“Freddie cum for me, cum Freddie!”

It’s a shock when his blistering hot cum suddenly shoots out and hits your chest, your tits covered right across to your neck and your chin. He pants, slipping back into his knees as he looks at you, so perfectly defiled and covered in his cum.

“You’re bloody perfect,” he says breathlessly with a slight laugh, the sensations overwhelming him as he looks at you. When you take a single finger and trace it across your breast, scooping up a little bit of his cum before bringing it up to your lips to suck on he looks at you in amazement, mouth contorting into a little ‘o’ shape.

“Dirty girl,” George says, making you turn in his direction, so consumed by Fred that you’d not even considered where he’d gone. He runs a warm washcloth over you, cleaning up his and his twins mess as you smile at him tiredly. “You did so well for us.”

You laze in between completely naked and free between the two equally naked bodies for a little while, your legs feeling like jelly as George strokes your hair and Fred holds you tightly.

“So did you steal us any Christmas cookies?”

“On the counter,” you say tiredly with a knowing smile.

It takes less than three seconds before both twins race out of bed and run straight towards the kitchen as you laugh at them, their very naked arses jiggling in the gentle lamp light.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #fred weasley masterlist #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #weasley twins smut #Weasley twins x reader #smut #requests #anon answered

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wardenparker · 6 months ago

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.

It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.

“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.

“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”

“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.

"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"

“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”

"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.

“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”

"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.

“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.

"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”

"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."

“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.

"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."

“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”

"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."

“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”

"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"

“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.

"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”

“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.

“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.

“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.

“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.

"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."

June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”

"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.

“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”

"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."

“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”

"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."

“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”

“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”

“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”

She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.

"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"

“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”

There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.

Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”

"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."

“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.

"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”

"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."

She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”

“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”

“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”

“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”

Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”

“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”

“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.

“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.

“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”

“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”

“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.

“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”

“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”

“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”

Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”

“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form

“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”

“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”

“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.

The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”

“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”

“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.

“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.

“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.

“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.

“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”

"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."

“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”

"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.

"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.

“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.

When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.

“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”

"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."

“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.

“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”

“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.

“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”

“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.

Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”

“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”

“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.

“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.

Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.

“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”

“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.

"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."

“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.

"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.

"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.

“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”

"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"

“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.

"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."

“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”

"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."

“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.

"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"

“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.

“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”

“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”

“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”

“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”

“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.

“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.

“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”

Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.

“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”

“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”

"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."

“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”

You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”

She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”

“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.

“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.

“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.

"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.

Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.

"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."

“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”

The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."

“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”

"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."

Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."

“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”

"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.

“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”

"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."

Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”

"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."

“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”

"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.

“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.

Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.

“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.

“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”

“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”

“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”

“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”

“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”

He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.

“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”

“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.

Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.

It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”

“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.

“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”

“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.

“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.

“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”

“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.

“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”

“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”

“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”

“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”

“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.

“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”

“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”

“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”

“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.

“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”

“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”

“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.

“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”

“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”

“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”

“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.

“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.

“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”

“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”

“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”

“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”

“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.

“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”

“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”

“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”

“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.

“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”

“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.

"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."

“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.

"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."

The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.

It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.

“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.

“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”

“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”

“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”

Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.

“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.

“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”

“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”

“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”

"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."

"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"

She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.

“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.

“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.

It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.

“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”

“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”

Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.

“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.

There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.

“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.

“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”

“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.

“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”

“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.

Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”

“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”

“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”

“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.

“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”

“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.

“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”

“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”

“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”

“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”

“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”

“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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danieyells · 6 months ago

Note

hi! any chance you'd be able to post some of kaito's voicelines? I would love to see them <33

Our wanna-be knight and pathetic little best friend! He's just such a good boy lol. . .once again, another one who just wants to go back to a normal life, poor thing. Kaito's very much your vanilla, sweet boyfriend character with no frills attached, aside from his cowardice and his gambling habit of course. And his terrible aim. . . .

Copying all of them over isn't hard now that I've done it twice. Let's do it again for Kaito!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"{PC}! Over here! Hiya!"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, new message. Better check it out, yeah? Or are you the type who's got like a ton of of unread inbox messages?"

. . .shut up /absolutely that type (and a sincere apology to literally everyone i know for that my adhd doesn't let me read and respond to their messages--)

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"God, please don't make me go on any more missions... It's not like me being there is any help to anyone anyway..."

"Oh yeah, have you been on WickHive yet? Someone leaked next month's cafeteria menu! Oh wait... I-I already told you that, didn't I?!"

"Damn it... I could've taken {PC} to lunch with that money! God, why am I such a moron?!"

"Ask me anything you want to know! I'm pretty savvy when it comes to Darkwick!"

honestly the fact that he's a second year who doesn't wanna be here and doesn't wanna be doing all of this but he still knows like everything about the school is also kinda sus to me. . .surely he'd divest himself from as much of darkwick as possible if he didn't care

"Urgh... Limited time only, you are not my friend... Huh? Oh, I'm on TikTok. I really want this, but I'm pretty broke this month..."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ahem... Testing, testing... Morning! Heh, nailed it... Ack! How long've you been there, {PC}?!"

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Phew, should be safe here... EEEEEEEEEEK! Oh thank god, it's just a cat... I thought he found me..."

romeo oh romeo didn't you get into enough shit for this romeo? just make sure it's not Romeo cat. Because I'm sure it'll tell him somehow--

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Shit, it's Luca… Judging by the outfit he must be going to train. I better bail before he tries to rope me in too…"

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Eeeek?! Oh, it's just you... Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

i know romeo is constantly on his ass, and I relate to the feeling of being scared the people you owe money will appear out of nowhere and get you, but. . .he's so jumpy lol

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ugh, Romeo's texting me... Not gonna open that..."

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"So your father runs a company, huh? Who the hell leads with that?! This is why I hate talking to Frostheimers..."

so the wording here is wonky because he's quoting a Frostheimer, but there's no visual indication that he's quoting them. But lore drop! Kaito's father runs a company! But I thought he wasn't well off. . .? Maybe his parents are separated or his father doesn't spend any of their money on him. . .or the company isn't doing well. . .or gambling addiction runs in his family lol. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Argh, I want junk food! And I want to try all the new snack flavors!!"

my boy is so relateable--

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"All right, time to man up and bite the bullet... Nope, absolutely not, can't do it!"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"How is Jin's skin so perfect? Fucking rich kids and their stupidly expensive fancy-ass toner!!!"

kaito really looking at jin like OH NO HE'S HOT

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"(yawn) Guess I'll go brush my teeth..."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Hey {PC}, you seem different somehow today. Did you change something? Or am I just imagining things?!"

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Noooo why does Tohma want to see me...? No way it's about something good! Could you come with me, {PC}?!"

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Crap, I fell asleep in class so I don't know what our homework is... Help me, {PC}!"

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) Man, my bed's like a freaking marshmallow. I can never get any good sleep on that thing..."

lol the Frostheim beds are too comfortable lolol I NEED A FIRMER BED TOO KAITO I GET IT.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Huh? Oh, my pendant! You're always wearing it? Does that mean you've actually been paying attention to me?!"

once again the wording here is wonk because it makes it sound like the pc is always wearing Kaito's pendant. I'm pretty sure he's quoting the pc, who's commented that "you're always wearing it". It would read better as something like "You noticed I'm always wearing it?"

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hey {PC}, how 'bout we grab a bite?! I've got tons to splurge in winn... er, earnings, so it's all on me! Get whatever you want!"

your gambling addiction is really and truly going to get you in trouble. disregard that i play a gacha game.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"...Huh?! Man, nearly fell sleep without putting my phone on the charger... 5%, that would've sucked tomorrow..."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ha ha ha! Have you seen this yet?! It's all over TikTok. Ah man, it's killing me..."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Whoa, when did it get so late?! Sorry {PC}, I didn't mean to keep you up... What? You're still good?"

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Morning! Hey, guess what? Luca's busy after class, so how about we hit up the diner? It's been ages!"

do you. . .do you really wanna go there. . .i mean the drinks seem to be fine but according to sho they can't make good food at all. . . .

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Sorry, I gotta stay after class today... (sniffle) This sucks, I really wanted to walk home with you..."

aw buddy. . .they could wait for you or come pick you up after your remedial lesson. . .!

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hey I'm really sorry but do you mind if we stop by the campus store after class? I'm almost out of granulated sugar."

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Hey, do you like stars? Oh, um, I was just wondering 'cause there's this place where you can see them really well, so I thought maybe you'd want to go some time..."

he's overcoming his fears and being honest with himself and how he speaks and just. . .asking honestly, no bravado, no act. do it scared, kaito. do it scared, do it awkward, do it sure you're going to fail. as long as you do it. proud of you!

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Sure is dark. Reminds me of the closet where we first met. Remember?"

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I know I'm weak, and a coward. But I really do want to become your knight in shining armor, {PC}."

I love how comfortable and honest he starts to get as his affinity goes up. Still shy here and there, still scared, but he's not as jumpy and he starts treating you like a real friend. laughs with you about stuff, talks a little about hobbies and struggles. doesn't try and look cool for you. and then the honesty--i'm a weak coward, but i wanna be better for you. i wanna spend time with you. just!!! he grows!!! he realizes you like him for who he is and how he is, even if that's a weak coward--and that that's exactly what he wants! and it's okay for him to be that way because you won't be put off by it, even if it's something he'd like to grow from so he can be better for you--but he wants to be better for you as himself and--idk. i have feelings about characterization lol.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) Man, I wanna sleep, but I can't fail, so I gotta show up for class... Oh! I have Professor Nicolas next! Naptime."

does that mean you're good in anomalous medicine class or. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Grr! All those girls in the hall were looking at Luca! I'm so pissed off now I'm not even sleepy anymore!"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's finally warm out again, so I really want to go do something fun... Wish I could get an R&R permit..."

well maybe if you stopped sleeping in class and did good in class or went on a mission or something. . . . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Mheheh... {PC}... You've got a petal in your hair... Zzz..."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh, it's too hot to go outside... But I can sense a coming-of-age event on the horizon... All right, here I come!"

obligatory beach event? 👀

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Can't believe Professor Hyde still wears that blindfold in summer. Pfft, I bet it's really sweaty under— Eeeek! S-Sir?!"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hey {PC}, are you free after this? I was thinking of inviting Luca to let off some fireworks! I want to show him how we do summer here in Japan."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I can't believe I get to spend the whole summer hanging out with you {PC}... (sniffle) Homework? Uh y-yeah, I finished it already..."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Is it just me, or is it really cold today?! Guess I better get my coat out soon..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Have you had the chestnut rice from the cafeteria yet? They made it way too fancy. It's supposed to be comfort food..."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Tohma's always reading something. Maybe I should too... All right, let's go with this! 10 Ways To Become Popular Overnight!"

well. . .it's something to read. . .never a bad idea to read.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Apparently the moon is the most beautiful in fall since the air gets clearer. Want to go take a look?"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"It's freezing out there! It's freezing in here! Frostheim sucks!!"

this makes me wonder what the warmest dorm is on average. . .probably jabberwock as long as towa's in a good mood? (or maybe warm jabberwock winters mean towa's in a bad mood. . .?)

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The cold can go to hell, but I guess there's outfits you can only wear this time of year..."

you can wear whatever you want whenever you want if you're brave enough. but this is kaito and he's not very brave. and it's also not very smart to wear winterwear in the summer.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I really want to go to Starbucks for the new winter drink! But I really really don't want to go on any missions!! Guess I'll never get to try it."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Gram... No... No more mandarins... ...Huh?! Oh, it was just a dream... I haven't had a mandarin for ages..."

'gram' in this case is 'grandma' in case you couldn't figure it out haha and the mandarin(mikan)'s used to represent health and longevity and a long prosperous bloodline or something like that for new years. So i assume his grandmother would feed him a lot of mandarins every winter lolol

His birthday: (December 11th)

"Why did Jin, Tohma, and Luca give me all this high-end stuff?! It's freaking me out!! Thank you!?!?"

EVEN JIN AND TOHMA GAVE HIM GIFTS. . .FROSTHEIM FAM IS REAL. . . .

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}! We'll make this the best one— Hey, give those back! Those are the cue cards I made yesterday!!"

ksjfkhesbfjh he made himself cue cards to give you a birthday speech with as little stuttering as possible. . . .

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year! Let's make it a good one! S-So hey, if, er, if you'd like, c-could we, um... could we make our first shrine visit together?"

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"C'mon Kaito, deep breaths. Girls aren't into guys with no chill. So stay cool... Stay— Are those chocolates for me?! I'll take them to my grave!"

everyone loves an enthusiastic boy lol

White Day: (March 14th)

"Do you like the cookies I made? Come on, no way they're that good, heh heh... Heh heh heh... Here, take them all!!"

god i bet he makes really good sweets too. like i bet he puts so much love and good spirit into them lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"I'd never lie to a girl. Ah! That's not a lie, I swear! {PC}? Are you listening?!"

BAD THING TO SAY ON APRIL FOOL'S ABORT MISSION

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Trick or treat! See those carved pumpkins? I was actually the one who made them. What do you think?"

given his DIY skills i bet he's actually really good at carving too. i bet they look really good!

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Hey, uh, {PC}, do you, uh... Do you have any plans for Christmas? I'm actually totally free!"

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Huh? {PC}? Am I being annoying?! I'm sorry! You're probably busy, right?!"

(13 affinity and above)

"{PC} seems kind of busy... I know! I'll find a video that'll help take her mind off things!"

this one replace the first one after you hit a certain affinity, so it's cute to see that he eventually decides 'i'm not being annoying, they're just busy. i wanna help them' after he gets closer to you. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Ah...! Oh my god, you're back!! I'm so happy to see you!!!! (sob) Please don't leave me again..."

he's so clingy. . .poor guy really missed you, considering you're one of the kindest and most normal people in Darkwick that he associates with. . . . also man 'please don't leave me again' with the whole loop theory stuff. . . .

I THINK I'VE SAID MOST OF MY THOUGHTS THROUGHOUT THIS BUT. He really is a sweetie. He really could have ended up a very plain and 'safe' character, but he's managed to be very charming and entertaining with his struggles and exaggerated behavior, while still being a simple and safe type. Really looking forward to seeing how he plays into the rest of the story, since it seems like his pendant may be kind of important. . . .

#kaito fuji #tokyo debunker #danie yells at tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #danie yells with anons #danie yells answers #I THINK I'M ALL CAUGHT UP ON THE REQUESTED VOICELINES YAY LOL #and!!! hotarubi in two hours!!!!

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madaqueue · 8 months ago

Text

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 3

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, smut. kissing, brief fingering (f receiving), car sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the way i've given up proofreading this lmao lemme know if y'all find any errors bc i'm simply not looking for em anymore! anyways eat up :)

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

What the hell did I get myself into?

The question repeats in your mind while the cool air in Gojo’s car blasts against your skin, still hot from earlier, as his hand returns to its natural place along your thigh.

After your little encounter, he promised to take you to one of his favorite places for lunch. He also promised to wash your soiled panties for you as he shoved them into his pocket with a smirk, citing how “gentlemanly” he is.

The events of less than an hour prior replay in your mind as you remember how his touch felt, how his lips pressed against yours, how badly you wanted him to bend you over and fuck you then and there. But instead, he just picked up all the dresses you had tried on and marched them out of the changing room to the front of the store, setting them down and paying without a second thought. “Oh, and we’ll take the yellow one she’s wearing, too,” he chirps to the attendant as she rings up an amount you can’t even fathom.

You get pulled out of your thoughts as the car stops, your door opening suddenly as Gojo once again holds his hand out to you. He has brought you to an adorable restaurant you’ve never even seen before, with yellow flowers lining the walkways and windowsills of the old building, perfectly complementing the new outfit you have on.

Once again, the date is actually really lovely. He orders you both champagne and tells you to get whatever else you want from the menu, and conversation flows naturally between you two, almost like old friends. Wanting to learn more about him, you direct the discussion to his past, probing to understand more about his background. While he often acts like an open book, you find that there are three things he will absolutely not talk about: his family, his home, or his money. Whenever one of these topics comes up he maneuvers the conversation elsewhere, often deflecting back to you.

That said, holy shit does this man love to talk - you bet that if you put him in an empty room he’d speak just to hear his own voice. He seems to know something about everything, and he wants to make sure you know it, too.

“Do you ever shut up?” you tease after his fourth time interjecting a random, unwarranted piece of information into a story you were telling him.

“Hmm,” he thinks, bringing a hand up to ruffle through his hair. “Nope, I don’t think so,” a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

While the time you spend with him is nice, his inability to be forthcoming does put you slightly on edge. You can’t help but find yourself wondering, in a tiny corner of the back of your mind, what’s the catch? Why is someone who seems so perfect possibly interested in you?

You push the feelings of unease down as you continue your meal. Eventually you look up and see his eyes locked on yours, taking in your every move. The cerulean pierces through you like a cold wind, and you can’t quite place the feeling it sends through you until you feel his fingertips brush against your knee from under the table.

Desire.

“You know,” you say, a grin slowly forming on your face, “I love this dress, but I almost feel like it’s getting a bit uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah?” he tilts his head, knowingly playing into your little game. “Well, that’s a shame.” He sighs dramatically. “I guess you could take it off, if you really need to.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “I might need your help with that, though.”

Leaning forward slightly, his words come out airy, “Anything for you, princess.”

He stands up and holds his hand out again, your fingers intertwining with his as his free hand pulls out his wallet and drops a few hundred dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover your meal. Leading you back to his car, you feel your heart start to race in anticipation.

Pulling open the back door, you hop in first and get comfortable against the seat before he joins you inside. You hadn’t noticed how spacious the back of his car is but you’re grateful that it at least won’t be uncomfortable; you expected him to take you back to his place or yours, but this will do just fine for now, as your need for him was increasing with every second he wasn’t inside you.

Immediately upon closing the door his lips crash into yours, soft and warm against the lingering cool air inside the vehicle. As you sit in his lap his arms reach around your body to undo the zipper of your dress before sliding it over your head, tossing it somewhere into the depths of the car.

Since your panties were already stuffed into his pocket and you hadn’t worn a bra, you were now fully bare in front of him. He pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing his eyes to slowly cover every inch of your body, taking you in as a smile curls at the corners of his lips.

Gojo lays down with his back against the seats so you can straddle him, legs around his waist as you start to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With your eyes closed and hands shaking slightly in excitement, you take longer than the man would like as he sighs against your lips and simply rips his shirt open, muttering “I’ll buy a new one,” as it slides off his shoulders.

Your eyes open for a moment to take in his body beneath you - his firm chest, abs surrounded by a v-line that dipped below the waist of his pants, practically begging you to trace along it with your fingers. As you do, you hear Gojo’s breath hitch momentarily at your touch.

“Aw, are you nervous?” you tease against him as your fingertips brush along his waistband, slowly fumbling against the buckle of his belt.

He smirks at you through the kiss. “Just impatient.”

Before you can quip back, he has undone his belt and zipper, allowing you to pull his black slacks down to his ankles, sitting up slightly to let him kick them off. Your hands find the top of his black boxers before his hands wrap around your wrists.

Pulling his mouth away from yours for a moment, his eyes open to meet your gaze. “Are you sure?” he asks through a breathy sigh.

You nod eagerly, starting to lean back down before a hand reaches up to stop you.

“Say it,” he commands, voice suddenly low and raspy.

“I want to fuck you, Satoru,” the words barely leaving your mouth before your lips crash back into his, a new greediness between both of you as your tongues glide against each other’s.

Your attention turns back to undressing him as you pull his boxers down, revealing his fully erect cock. The tip flushed, needy, drawing your hands to it as you use your thumb to drag the leaking precum around his tip before sliding your hand loosely down his length. Satoru sighs into your open mouth at the feeling, reaching his own hand down between your legs.

As soon as he touches you, you feel electricity shoot through your body, his fingers barely brushing against your clit. Maybe you were still horny from earlier, maybe you just needed him that badly, but something in you couldn’t wait any longer.

Your hips move so you’re hovering above him, using your hand around his base to align him with your entrance. His tip slowly enters you, the feeling already threatening to send you over the edge as you envelop him in your warmth.

He moans your name softly as you drop your hips to take all of him inside of you. His cock stretches at your walls, the mix of pleasure and pain better than anything you’ve felt before. You fit him perfectly as he fills up every last inch of you, your wetness allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

“Wanted you so bad,” he murmurs against your lips as you grind your hips in circles up and down his length, “needed you.” One of his hands grips at your waist while the other snakes behind you to grab the thick flesh of your ass.

You continue your movements, using one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, his cock pressing into every last part of you. “S’good, you feel s’good,” he babbles, a never-ending stream of consciousness leaving his mouth as your body moves against his.

Damn, he really can’t shut up, can he? you think to yourself with a grin.

You don’t mind though, the silky lightness of his voice only adding to your pleasure. As you feel yourself approaching your release, your pussy clenches around him, eliciting another moan from the man underneath you.

His grip tightens on your waist as he suddenly begins thrusting his hips up into you, adding to the pace. You open your eyes slightly as he reaches even deeper into you, glancing down to see the veins in his arms as his fingers dig into your skin.

“F-fuck, I’m close,” he whines, desperation dripping from his voice as he continues pumping into you.

“Me too, ‘Toru,” the words leaving your throat in a hoarse whisper.

You don’t even process the nickname, something simply spoken out of ease as sounds struggled to escape your lips through moans of pleasure, but it sends butterflies through Satoru’s body as he is suddenly pushed into his climax. You follow almost immediately, your body racked with pleasure as your legs shake and cunt flutters around his cock as he finishes inside of you.

The humidity of the car finally hits you as you try to slow your breathing, realizing both you and Satoru are covered in a thin layer of sweat as you peel yourself off of him to sit up.

“Wow,” he pants, reaching a hand up to brush white hair off of his slightly damp forehead, “that was amazing.”

“I know,” you reply slyly, leaning down to place a peck against his lips.

He chuckles, “So cocky already? And here I thought we could have a sweet post-fuck cuddle or something.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling. “Oh yeah, in the comfort of the back seat of your car?”

“Aw, are you saying you don’t like my car?” he fakes a pout. “Guess you can just walk home then.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing. “You and I both know damn well I’m not walking home, and we aren’t going anywhere until you find my dress.”

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he smirks, sitting up and wrapping his arms tightly around you, placing a wet kiss on your cheek as you laugh and squirm in his lap.

–

For a while, things with Satoru are easy. You find yourself slipping into a rhythm with him: he calls you, he takes you out somewhere, you fuck, and he pays you. It feels nice to finally be able to afford to live again and not stress about your job hunt, and you start to genuinely enjoy the time you spend with him, looking forward to your weekly dates.

Between the times you see him, you also find yourselves communicating more often. He starts sending you pictures of himself trying on clothes in that all-too-familiar dressing room, asking for your opinions on what he should get so he can match you whenever you go out somewhere. You start video calling each other too, getting to see that stupid grin on his face whenever you pick up. Usually you just talk about your days or what shows you're watching, but you slowly start bringing him more into your life, telling him about your family and whatever gossip you hear about from your friends. A few times you’ve even invited him to come out with your group, but he always declines with a vague excuse. A part of you wants more, to have him in your life fully, but you also know that it would bring with it the complicated explanation of how you met and how your relationship first started.

You also begin to notice that you never hook up in your apartment or his - it’s always in restaurant bathrooms, his car, or the few times he’s gotten you a hotel room to stay with him overnight. You don’t particularly mind, since your apartment is still not the cleanest, although it’s certainly gotten better with your newfound free time, but it does seem odd to you. Whenever you try to bring it up, he just shrugs or brushes it off with a wave of his hand. “It’s too personal,” he always reasons, and you decide that you either have to drop it and accept how things are or push it and risk losing him.

Around six months after your first date, something changes. He drops you off at home after an amazing dinner at a new steakhouse and even better sex, this time in the private lounge of the restaurant. Inside your apartment you shower and head straight to bed. When you awake the next morning, you see two notifications on your phone: one from your bank informing you of a deposit of $6,000, and one from Gojo.

Gojo: Sorry about not paying you right away last night, I must have been a little distracted after our dinner and dessert 🥰 (the dessert was us having sex). I sent you a bit extra as compensation for any emotional damages I may have caused <3

You roll your eyes, a smile involuntarily forming on your lips as you read his message. Suddenly, it hits you: you didn’t even notice that he didn’t pay you. For months, that had been the routine, the expectation you both had set and agreed to. But last night, you didn’t notice. And maybe, you didn’t care?

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muzansfangs · 2 years ago

Text

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Douma x f!reader; Kokushibo, Shinobu, Kanae (mentioned).

Warnings: language, kind of dirty talk/references, choking, violence, gore, physical torture, murder, attempted murder, abuse, possible major spoiler (canon events reported with a modern adaptation), sugar daddy dynamics.

Plot: you spend a lovely day in Douma’s company, trying to get your mind off from your fake boyfriend’s business. However, a mysterious woman, seeking revenge, attacks you in the parking lot. Panicking, you call Muzan and he does not hesitate to come to your rescue. You see his dark side, you watch the way his usual charming façade drops to reveal his true nature. Scared to death, you get into his car and you know you are going to pay the price of your disobedience

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

DISOBEDIENCE.

You were enjoying Douma’s company. He had taken you to the mall and bought you a dress he thought would have suited your perfectly. You had tried to protest, tugging at his arm to drag him away from the shop, but nor your words, neither your strength worked as a deterrent for him.

He was hilarious. Maybe way too sarcastic at times and his dark sense of humor had made you question his sanity more than once. However, he was exactly the type of person you could easily talk to about anything. Additionally, you felt safe around him. While taking a break from your duties, to elaborate the ‘not-so-shocking” news about Muzan and his villainous antics, had managed to calm you down, you could not look at Douma as a common bodyguard anymore.

He was an assassin. A friendly assassin.

Then again, you were living with a bunch of serial killers. What could possibly go wrong? They did not seem to keen to slaughter you. At least, not yet. They were all loyal to Muzan, though, and it was obvious that they would have never laid a finger on you, as long as you were under his protective wing. However, you knew that, if your ‘boyfriend’ suddenly decided to get rid of you, they would have not hesitated to chop your head off and throw it at his feet.

Around noon, Douma drove you to a fency restaurant. Everything was delicious and, as you expected, extremely expensive. He insisted to pay the bill again and you had no other choice but let him do it. You did not know if it was part of his job, or if it was just his way to flirt with you. While he had never really stopped complimenting you, he had still not wasted any given chance to flirt with every woman passing by.

You got easily flustered by his seductive mannerism, but crossing the line was not in your plans. Also, Douma was what you would have defined as a walking red flag.

But if Douma was a red flag, Muzan was a red blanket.

“You didn’t have to, you know. I am not your girlfriend” you said, glancing at the tall man beside you briefly, as you walked out of the restaurant. You felt slightly embarrassed. You still had your own money to spend. Although you were going to financially depend from Muzan, you had worked for two years at the restaurant and you had saved enough money to pay for a lunch.

Douma grinned, putting his sunglasses on casually “I know, but I wanted to. What kind of a man would I be, if I let you pay?” he declared, tucking his hand into the pocket of his trousers to draw the keys of his car out of it.

You narrowed your eyes at your morning companion “Do you mean that Muzan did not tell you to pay for whatever I need?” you inquired, rubbing the back of your neck in distress.

The silver-haired man smiled at you, opening your car door gentlemanly for you to hop in “Well, he did! But only if the money he had given you did not suffice. Let’s say that I like you! I did everything of my own accord!” he beamed, a smug smile crossing his sharp visage, as he glanced behind your back intensily. You were glad he was not paying much attention at your poor state.

Your cheeks flushed up and you tried to stammer out a ‘thank you’, when he abruptly pushed you inside the car, slamming the car door close with his foot. What the hell had just happened to the ‘I am a gentleman who is trying to win your heart’ attitude?

You shrieked, accidentally banging your head on the steering wheel as you fell backwards into the vehicle. You thought you were allucinating, when you heard a whistle outside the car. You would have never thought about a bullet flying right in your direction. However, when you pushed yourself up and you peeked out of the window, you heard another sound and, this time, there was no doubt about it: it was a gunshot.

You clasped your hand over your mouth in fear, your eyes searching for Douma and, when you finally spotted him crouched down behind a bush, safe and sound, you released a breath you did not know you were holding.

Who was attacking you? It was clear that a man as powerful and evil as Muzan had a long list of enemies to watch his back from. The person shooting at the car was evidently trying to kill either you, or Douma. How did they know about you? The medias did not know about your presence in Muzan’s life yet.

You stared outside the window in horror, conscious that stepping out of the car would have only meant dying. As foolish as it may have sounded, staying inside was the safest choice to make. Douma was clearly used to this. His cheeky grin did not fade as he reached behind his back and unfolded a pair of golden fans. They were sharp, shining under the sun. Those were not a pair of common fans. You had seen them into a lot of museums: they were war fans, tessens to be precise.

“Ah, Shinobu-chan, I wondered when you were going to show up! You are always at my throat, aren’t you?” Douma beamed, glancing over his shoulder to check on your attacker. You curiously followed his gaze and you finally saw your aggressor too. It was not a surprise for you to see a woman, probably around your age, unsheathing a katana. What puzzled you was her stature, instead. Big doe gradient purple eyes, matching bangs, she was a petite woman with a deadly glare.

“Douma-san, how could I miss a chance to kill you?” she chimed, her grip on the hilt of her sword tightening. Shivers ran down your spine as you ducked down on the passenger seat enough to hide yourself, but to also see what was happening outside.

The silver-haired man stood up, pouting at the stranger “Ouch, you are so cruel Shinobu-chan! We could have been so good together!” he complained, cocking his head to the side. What? Was she a psychotic ex? Dear God, you had no energy to deal with that, then again it was kind of entertaining.

While Douma appeared to be confident and almost thrilled about the incoming fight, the short woman was not amused in the slightest. The irk mark on her forehead was evident as she sprinted towards him at an incredible speed. She was so graceful she resembled a butterfly, her hair swaying around her visage as she unleashed a series of lethal, quick slashes you would have not been able to avoid at all.

Douma, on the other hand, laughed at her face, countering her attacks back easily. The sound of her sword clashing against the tessens made you flinch and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. What exactly was happening? Could Douma win against this woman? Could you help him? How? You did not know how to fight, but…

But you knew how to drive.

You palmed your forehead and your stomach clenched at the thought that had just crossed your mind. You were not an assassin. You were not like them, you were not like him. You would have never been like them. Still, knocking her down on the road would have been a good way to stop her.

You ran your fingers through your hair in dispair. Muzan. You could call Muzan.

You reached down to grab your purse, your hand rummaging through it until you grasped your phone. With your heart still thrumming into your chest, you unlocked the screen only to see seven missed calls and several texts messages from him. Your heart sank into your stomach. You had screwed up, you were not going to make it out alive anyway. Despite that, you were desperate and you called him.

You heard the girl wince and your teary eyes darted on her. She had a deep cut on her left cheek, blood dripping from her hand too as Douma stood a few strides away from her with a malicious grin gracing his lips.

As soon as your name popped out on his phone, Muzan answered immediately.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled, making you whimper.

But as you opened your mouth to tell him that you were sorry and what kind of situation you had found yourself into, you choked on your own words. You sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks in fear as the bloody, mortal battle between Douma and Shinobu raged outside.

“What’s happening? Are you hurt?” Muzan pressed, his tone cold and authoritative, yet concerned. Did someone find you? Did they kidnap you? Oh, he would have killed Nakime with his own hands for having let you go out alone.

“Y/N, fucking answer me!” he roared, only for you to feebly cry out an apology.

“I’m sorry! R-Really! I-I’m fine, but someone attacked us! I’m with Douma, he is—” you were cut off by his deep, menacing voice and you jolted on your seat at the way he barked out his resentment.

“You’re with who?! – he snapped, slamming the palm of his hand over his desk, making the coffee spill on some papers he was reading – I’m going to gouge his eyeballs out of his wretched skull! Tell me where you are now!” he demanded coldly.

He was furious. You barely knew him, that was true, but you could tell he meant every word he had said. Your lower lip quivered and you found yourself at loss of words.

In that very moment, though, Douma bursted out laughing, catching your attention again. Shinobu was laying at his feet, as he pressed his shoe over her throat. When did he get to knock her down? She was covered in wounds, her sword scattered behind her, out of her reach, and you gulped down nervously. Was he going to kill her?

“I don’t know… It’s a parking lot not too far from the ‘The Blue Spider Lily’. It’s a restaurant on the fifth avenue. P-Please, calm down!” you blurted out in a timid attempt to cool down his nerves.

Muzan was not mad. He was furious, on the verge to drive straight to where you were and commit a mass murder. Not only you had tricked his bodyguard, but you had left with the most unreliable, sociopathic and reckless member of the Moons, and did not even think about giving him a call to ask for his consent. Now, with your life in Douma’s hands, when you were not close to him, where he could protect you, how could you ask him control himself?

“Tell me who is the Slayer” Muzan hissed through gritted teeth.

The Slayer? What did he mean by that? Could it be the girl fighting against Douma? You were sweating, the fear of enraging him more was consuming you from the inside. He had not mentioned any of that in the contract. He should have told you that, in order to accept it, you had to be a skilled fighter.

You sniffed, wiping away some tears with the back of your hand “It’s a girl. I think her name is Shinobu. – you mumbled, watching how the silver-haired man had gripped the girl’s hair to bring her face closer to his one – Douma is going to kill her, isn’t he?” you asked, shutting your eyes close not to assist to what was yet to come.

It took a moment for him to say something, but when he did you felt something in your heart cracking “Not in front of you. I would not allow it – he stated softly – Stay in the car. I’m coming��.

You did not have a chance to reply, he hanged up, leaving you speechless and terrorized into the car. No, not it was enough. You did not want to watch Douma die before your eyes for having executed an order. You could not sit idly into the car, while the world was crumbling underneath your feet.

You took a deep breath and got out of the shiny Maserati, jogging towards Douma with a blurry vision and wobbly legs. He was chuckling at the way Shinobu whimpered in pain under the small cuts he was leaving on her cheeks with a switchblade. Wicked, he was wicked. You were surprised no one was around to stop this madness.

“Douma, stop! Please, don’t hurt her!” you cried out, trying to shove him away from the woman.

He stared at you curiously, blade pressed against her throat “Y/N, what are you doing here? Get back in the car, I’m almost done with this pretty, little Slayer! Her sister was funnier, I gotta say it!” he crooned, making something inside the purple-eyed girl snap.

She kicked him between his legs, sitting up in a nick of time, and hastily grasped her katana. She charged at him, tears spilling from her eyes, migling with blood, as she slashed his shirt open “Don’t you dare talking about her, you piece of shit!” she raved at him, swinging her sword to slit his throat open. She truly did not have anything to lose, she wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

Although Douma easily dodged her attack, he stared at her unfazed, unfolding his tessen to back the second slash unleashed by the furious woman. Fearing for Douma’s life and cursing his name for acting recklessly, almost as if he enjoyed playing with fire, you decided to help him in the only way you knew could work.

You launched yourself at her, confiding in the fact that you were probably physically stronger than her, although armless, and pushed her to the ground. You knew Muzan would have most likely disapproved your total lack of self-preservation, but you did not want any of them to die. When you wrapped your arms around Shinobu’s waist and roughly pushed her down to the ground, she gasped in surprised and her grip on the hilt of her sword loosened. You fell over her, the sound of the blade clattering behind you making you thank whoever watched out for you from the Paradise Gates.

“Holy shit!” Douma beamed, hiding his devious smile behind his fan, as he watched you pinning Shinobu’s wrists above her head.

“Who are you? I should have known that rat had hired another assassin! – she spat, narrowing her eyes at you as she tossed and turned underneath you – You did a good job in palying dumb! I thought you were one of this bastard’s girls!” she angrily stated.

Being spotted with a member of the ‘Kibutsuji gang’ implied that you were corrupted to the core too, did it not? You were not like them, though. You liked to believe you were still the kind, hardworking girl trying to graduate, the one who loved hanging out with the friends, the one who did not want to hurt anybody.

You shook your head, staring deep into her eyes “Trust me, I am not! – you asserted, feeling the familiar knot in your throat growing considerably – And Douma is not my boyfriend, for God’s sake!” you added shortly, averting your eyes from her contrived face only to assess Douma’s reaction before you proceeded in your suicidal task to keep her at bay.

“She wishes I was!” the silver-haired killer cooed, eyeing you maliciously from behind his dark sunglasses.

“Douma!” you snorted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Come on, we were about to fuck in the basement! And you were totally into it, do not deny it, Y/N-chan!” Douma complained, crossing his arms against his chest.

At this point, you were considering the idea of allowing Muzan to kill him. But you did not have enough time to spend on giving him a lecture. The clock was ticking and you needed to give it your best shot not to let this mess end up in a bloodbath. Inevitable, however, judging by Muzan’s tone during the call.

“Shinobu, right? – you blurted out, switching your attention back at the Slayer – You need to leave now!

“Argh, the hell with that, I don’t care! – Shinobu shouted, bucking her hips in vaim to flip you over – You can’t understand! He killed my sister nine months ago! Let me kill him and I’ll gladly take my leave! He took Kanae away from me!” she thundered, making your heart ache in your chest. Her sister. Douma had killed her sister.

Was Kanae a Slayer too? How did it happen?

Too many questions pestered your mind, but the roaring sound of a car rushing down the street made you three turn your heads at it. By the time your eyes landed on the black vehicle, your blood ran cold and you knew it was over. It was over for you, for Douma and for this crazy woman.

Muzan would have killed you all, painfully, slowly, discarding your bodies in a ditch right after it.

When the driver clapped on the brakes, you loosened your grip on Shinobu’s wrists, eyes rounded as you squeezed her shoulder “Run, run as fast as you can” you uttered, watching how she frowned at your suggestion.

Were you really letting her go? Who exactly were you?

She wanted to say something but she just bowed her head at you, collected her sword and ran off to the opposite direction. You heard a car door slam and heavy footsteps approaching you. He was there. He had arrived. You fearfully looked up at him, your eyes locking for a split second, and you thought you were going to die on the spot. The deadly glint in his eyes, the way his plum red irises seemed to swallow you whole made you unable to stand up from the ground.

His nostrils flared as he made his way to you, but Douma blocked his path. He stepped in front of you, taking his sunglasses off as he raised his hands apologetically “Muzan-sama, it’s not her fault—”.

“You’re right, it’s yours” the raven-haired man venomously spat, before punching him straight on the the nose. You gasped, watching as Douma fell in front of you for the harsh impact of Muzan’s fist. Blood dripped down his ringed fingers, as he tried to stop the flow, and you crawled towards him, checking on him.

“Goodness, Douma! Are you alright? I’m so sorry” you fretted, helping him to sit up. Why? Why did he have to hit him out of the blue?

Douma winced, waving his hand at you and shrugging “I should’ve seen it coming. I’m fine, sweetheart” he breathed out.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Was it a joke? According to Muzan it was. But the comedy was about to turn into a tragedy. How did he dare to call you in such an intimate way, huh?

“What the fuck did you say?” Muzan growled, ready to kick him in the guts, but this time you stood up, shielding the bleeding bodyguard behind you. You had enough. He had already done enough. Tears running down your cheeks, head high, you pushed Muzan’s chest in anger.

His eyes, boring into yours, widened at your audacity, as you confronted him. You were tired. He could tell it by the way your hooded eyes were puffy and swollen, or the way your frame trembled with every step you took.

“I think you’ve already done enough” you sternly said, eyes daggers on him.

Oh, you were crossing a line. Did you really feel in the position to tell him what to do? Were you not an insolent, high and mighty brat? He wanted to teach you a lesson, he really did. But he liked this part of you, your subtle way of challenging him was intriguing. It took a moment for him to elaborate what you had said and calculate what to do with you. However, he finally came up with a plan.

He grasped your jaw roughly, your faces so close you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips “You shut the fuck up, sweetheart. – he whispered coldly, making you gulp forcefully down – Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car, huh? Oh, but you have a kink for acting like a rebellious child, don’t you? Good, just good. That’s disobedience, love. I won’t let you go unpunished”.

And, before you could process what was happening, he dragged you back towards his car. You had not even noticed Kokushibo’s presence, before you heard Muzan addressing to him.

“Kokushibo, help that scumbag clean the scene. We’ll be back late tonight” he announced, commanding you to enter the vehicle. It was in that moment, when you hopped into his car, that you realised how mad Muzan was. You took a hint by the way he went zero to sixty in a split second and his grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point his knuckles turned white.

You were a dead bride walking.

Author note.

Hi there! The Fourth chapter is out! I hope you are going to like it and thank you so much for your support, guys! Muzan-sama is angry, but I am weak in the legs when he is upset. You know, the problem is he talks, I moan lol xD

Enough rambling, I know!

Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!

Tags: @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

Note

AITA in this friendship? give me a minute here, it's more complicated than it sounds

I'm 19 years old, female. So there's this friend, we'll call her B (also 19F). We've been friends for years, since elementary. We've been good friends for that time, I thought.

But especially during high school, it was hard to spend time with her. She was always convinced the friend group hated her even though all I'd ever hear was that they liked her and were confused/frustrated/hurt as to why she thought that. She's always had a lot of mental illness going on (depression, anxiety, ADHD, etc) so I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She spent most of her time in another part of the school refusing to spend time with me or the friend group saying she wanted "alone time" even though she was surrounded by other friends.

I knew she was feeling unwanted within the friend group, so I tried to spend time with her when she would let me. But it kind of alienated me from the rest of the friend group so I spent a good portion of my lunches alone. Plus, even though she would say its ok for me to be there, sometimes it felt like she hated me and my presence. But then she would turn around and tell me I was the only one she could be truly honest with, etc, etc.

The reason I tried not to pay too much heed to the idea that she might really hate being my friend is because I also struggle with anxiety pretty badly. I've been working really really hard to just listen to what people tell me, because I can't trust what I'm telling me.

But this feeling continued after high school, and it felt like there was something I didn't know, like she secretly hated me and only put up with me.

Almost every time I would invite her to do something, she would try to invite someone else too. That's fine, but when it happens almost every time... it made me feel like I was unwanted.

I got really clingy. I'll admit that. I texted her often (most days a week) and would get anxious when she didn't respond within a couple of hours, leading to me double, triple texting most of the time. She told me not to text her during work, but how am I supposed to know for sure? She told me her hours once, but I have no record of it and I don't expect her to memorize my schedule so I feel like that's unfair. Plus, if I didn't press for an answer, I often wouldn't get one at all or wouldn't get one for days. Like one time I tried to schedule a time to hang out a few weeks in advance. She told me she would get back to me, but then the day before, still nothing. I texted over and over again, trying to get an answer, until she got mad at me for texting so much and told me she didn't think hanging out would work out. But the point is I got clingy, in a way that I understand made her anxious.

My anxiety got the better of me and I decided to stop contacting her. I held to it for a couple of months, aside from wishing her happy christmas/new years. But my birthday came and went for the second year in a row without a word, and I decided I needed to talk to her about it.

I did, and although she refused to do it in person like I wanted, I thought it was a pretty good conversation. She told me about a couple things I was doing to make her uncomfortable. I promised to work on those and being less clingy. I told her I need her to be honest about the things that bother her, and she said she needed time to work on that skill. She said she was thinking a month, maybe less, so i agreed not to contact her first during that time and she promised to contact me soon.

I didn't hear from her for three months. I finally broke down and texted her, asking to talk it out and telling her this arrangement wasn't working for me. She didn't respond for almost a week. I needed peace of mind, so I said I was done with waiting and I would be open to rekindling the friendship later, but I wasn't going to hold my foot in the door for her any longer. No response again.

I remembered I owed her money and asked her when would be a good time to drop it off (it was not like five bucks, it was a fair amount of money so I didn't want to like leave it on a doorstep or something). No response again for a day. I told her if I didn't hear from her in a couple of days I was going to keep the money.

She finally responded a day later, saying she didn't have the energy for a "high maintenance" friendship and to leave the money in her mailbox.

I don't know who was at fault here. I mean, I was clingy and I ended the friendship, but she didn't give me a chance to change and didn't stick to her word. But I don't know if contacting her again after those three months was clingy? I really don't know, and the end of this friendship has been tormenting me. I just want to know who was at fault and then I can deal with it, but I honestly don't know.

Also, WIBTA for contacting B again and trying to rekindle the friendship?

Please do not ask multiple questions in a single submission. It just confuses things and makes it hard for people to vote in the poll.

#aita #am i the asshole

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pineappleciders · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Cider!!! Do you think you write about a poor y/n (gen neutral) with Tolkien, Kyle, Kenny, and Clyde? 🫶

(on another note, I absolutely love your writing glad to see you're taking requests lol ❤️)

tolkien, kyle, kenny, and clyde with a poor reader

platonic G/N reader

A/N: hii !!! this is based off of my experience of growing up lower class and such, though i was never poor to the point of like kenny so tbis might be inaccurate!!! also thank you so much :))

tolkien black

at some point after meeting your family/going to your house, it makes him feel a little bad so he talks to his parents about organizing some sort of food donation

like him and his parents make food for your family and make sandwiches and stuff, and he claims it's the least he can do

always inviting you over for dinner!!!! you two spend a lot of time playing baseball in his backyard or watching shows on his racecar bed and he lets you take all the food you want

always coming up to you during school asking if you want to hang out at his place!!! sometimes the other dudes hang out with you too and it just becomes a full blown party if his parents aren't home

at lunch he always brings a little something for you; whether it be a little snack or a drink or something he'll always think of grabbing something for you while packing his lunch

he does feel bad, so he generally tries to make everything easier on you. little things like picking up your dropped books or holding a door open for you. they're small little gestures, but it's how he shows his care!!

kyle broflovski

he doesn't really think about your financial situation often, but if you mention something to do with it or it becomes apparent or something he might think about it for awhile

he knows he can't really do anything, and it isn't his place to really feel bad, but he can't help but contemplate it, esp if it's got you feeling down

i can see him being the type of person to anonymously give you things, like if your stomach rumbles in class and you mention you didn't have a good breakfast, he might buy something from the vending machine and leave it on your desk

or he asks his mom if he can send you money in the mail (his mom thinks it's adorable that he cares) u two also have lots of sleepovers and his mom makes snacks for you!!

other than that, he doesn't treat you differently. though he does get upset when cartman harasses you over it

"dude, at least i'm not as poor as Y/N's family! their mamas so poor she puts a penny in a gumball machine and asks for change!"

kenny mccormick

he understands more than anyone!!!

it makes him comfortable to know that someone else is struggling like him,,, as his friends (cartman) always downplay his situation and make fun of him for it, it makes him happy to have a friend who gets it

he might just deadpan at you whenever someone cracks a joke about you or him being poor. he is sick and tired

sometimes you two go to the forest and skip rocks at starks pond just to get out of the house, especially if your home situation is like his.

always coming up to you once school gets out to see if you wanna go hang out with the guys or just take a walk with him or something. you two hanging out is like a win-win-win, you get to hang out with him, he gets to hang out with you, and you both get out of your homes for a bit!!

you two use puppy dog eyes to get the others to pay for your shit when eating together and then giggle mischeviously about it

clyde donovan

he doesn't really think much of it at first, like he hears people joking about you being poor all the time but he never really gave it a second thought

although he might think about it when you ask to stay at his place for the night, and suddenly he feels kinda guilty

lets you eat as much food as you want from his pantry & fridge, and he lets you take stuff home sometimes. not all the time though because even he can't afford you sneaking around his kitchen all the time (but he lets it slide more often than he'd like to admit)

probably pokes fun at you with the other guys except he's just joining in with them and has no idea what they're making fun of you for💀

he actually really enjoys sleepovers, especially with all of his friends!!! so you and him end up having a lot of slumber parties with the rest of the dudes. cartman's group refers to your sleepovers as "their gay orgy night" or "circle jerk sesh"

he forgets a lot like he never really pays your situation any mind unless it becomes apparent or you bring it up. like if you haven't washed in awhile he wonders why you stink and then he's like oh yeah and offers to sleepover so you can finally shower

#south park #south park fandom #sp x reader #south park x reader #sp x platonic reader #platonic south park x reader #platonic x reader #platonic headcanons #sp headcanons #tolkien black x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #clyde donovan x reader #sp fandom #sp #pineappleciders

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see-the-fandom-imagines · 7 months ago

Text

What's in it for me?

Chapter 11

Chapter 1 Masterlist Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader Author: see-the-fandom-imagines Warnings: None, really Author’s Note: Sorry this took again forever, I will upload the next 4 chapters in the next days :) Thanks for reading <3 Tag List: @radical-bunny, @redsakura101, @ellouisa17, @hyunjinsslutbbg, @fairyv-ice

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46325452/chapters/116633701

During lunch you had more or less willingly positioned yourself inbetween Mori and Kyouya and were highly glad that you could focus on Mori and the twins across from you. You were a little more relaxed now as the whole atmosphere seemed to have calmed down a bit and while half-heartedly listening to a story Kaoru told about Hikaru's first stuffed animal you let your mind wander and you thought fondly about Kyouya’s reaction to half the products in the supermarket. He had almost reminded you of Tamaki, mesmerised by all the offers and sales, although you were sure he would have been almost insulted if you had told him that.

A small smile creeped on your face, but faltered again, when suddenly you felt Kyouya’s leg bump into yours, ripping you out of your thoughts and not moving once the contact had been established. Irritated you looked up at him, but he was nodding at Hikaru, presumably listening to something the older twin was saying. You moved your gaze back to your food and decided to not move your leg either. Yours had been there first and to be honest, you didn’t mind the touch. Quite the contrary.

After lunch everybody finally said goodbye and went their separate ways, including you. You just wanted to turn around and get home, your bed was calling for you after a day like that, when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. Surprised you turned around to see Kyouya standing behind you, nodding towards his car. “Let me drive you home.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really”, you reassured him. You felt like he had done enough for you over the past couple of weeks, and you really didn’t want to owe him more than you already did. “It’s not very far, I can take the train.”

“It is late, your part of town can become quite dangerous, and as a member of our club we have a certain responsibility towards you. Furthermore I might use the chance to introduce myself to your aunt now, too, if she is at home.”

You squinted, trying to figure out his real motives. Of course, he had to have some form of gain from his, but was meeting your aunt really reason enough for him to take a detour? But you were also kind of exhausted and knew arguing with him didn’t make sense anyways. Furthermore you weren’t necessarily too opposed to the idea of spending more time with him, wether you wanted to admit it or not.

He got into the car before you, not holding open the door for you, you noticed, but you didn’t actually mind. You didn’t care too much about stuff like that and something made you feel like it was some form of weird compliment. He did not hold up an appearance for you, and somehow you liked seeing that.

You climbed in behind him and adjusted your seatbelt, painfully aware of him watching your every move and trying to ignore the butterflies his stare set loose in your belly. Suddenly he spoke out again.

“Are you not going to thank me?”

“For kidnapping me?”, you retorted, and the smile appeared back on his face. Suddenly you were very aware that you were in a highly confined space with Kyouya alone. And although there was probably a driver somewhere in the front of this car, there was a screen between you and them just like in the movies that separated you.

“Fair”, he said, leaning back in his chair, but you noticed the tiniest smirk playing on his features. The car began to move and you didn’t even question how the driver knew where to go. Maybe he actually was kidnapping you, you never knew with Kyouya. You were sure you were worth a little bit of money on the black market.

“Let me see if she is home first, though, or you have kidnapped me for nothing. And I am not paying for the gas!”

He chuckled and your heart jumped a little.

“No worries”, he said, “in that case you can repay me differently.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to to keep your mind away from the gutter, but smiled. You would not give him that win that easily. He was just saying this to tease you, some form of friendly banter you two had silently established between each other. With anyone else you might have called it flirting, but with Kyouya it felt like he was just provoking you, somehow testing how you would respond. Why you hadn't quite figured out yet, but you knew that he liked to be challenged. After all this time together you had understood more or less how his mind worked. Well, most of the time.

“Also”, he spoke up again, interrupting your thoughts, and you watched him shift a little in his seat as his hand glided into his pocket, suddenly revealing a small box wrapped in paper and decorated with a small blue ribbon. You looked up at him with big eyes. An invoice? A time bomb? Or maybe it was just...

“What’s that?”

“It was your birthday, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Well, in most places in the world, people gift each other something for their birthdays.”

You were almost speechless. “You got me a present?”

“It appears so.”

“But… why?”

You noticed that he hesitated. You had caught him off-guard with that question you noticed It almost seemed like he wasn’t entirely sure, either. Dodging the question, he moved his hand, as if to place it back into his pocket. “Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll return it.”

“No, no!”, you quickly said and bit your lip as you saw his challenging gaze. He had known you’d react like that. This round went to him. “I mean I was just surprised. I don’t get a lot of gifts normally.”

“I know you told me you find it frightening when I do something that could be considered... nice, but do not think I am doing this just to do you a favour.”

You hesitated for a second, but then you held open your hand and he dropped it in your palm. “Open it. I can't give it back, if you don’t like it.”

Carefully and with big eyes you began unwrapping the small package. It revealed… “A daruma?” Carefully you took it out of the small package and noticed that a little charm was hanging around its neck. It was a simple leather band with a seashell attached to it. You looked up surprised.

Kyouya shrugged, and you noticed that he actually seemed a little bit nervous, head turned away to look out of the window, feigning indifference. But the way his eyes trailed back to you revealed, that he was waiting for your reaction. “Well, it’s not blessed, nor is it New Years, but I saw it and I thought, maybe you’d like it, but I’d fully understand if …”

“Thank you. I love it.”

You noticed him relax a bit into his seat. He nodded, now turning back to you. “I saw it in Okinawa. And since you had said you liked the beach, I thought, maybe you actually enjoy things like that. I didn’t choose anything expensive as I did not want to make you uncomfortable." And then he added in true Kyouya-fashion. "I recently read that by purchasing a birthday gift, you will improve employee morale and help the recipient feel valued.”

You nodded slowly, but couldn't suppress a small chuckle. Even if it was just a present out of courtesy, you really loved it. And something told you that maybe, just maybe Kyouya had actually done something nice for you, just because he wanted. You knew he wasn't as cold as he always acted to be. “I do feel very valued", you finally replied, "In case the annual review comes up, I will be sure to mention it.” The daruma sat in your hand, the light breaking in its still empty eyes. “Thank you”, you said again, this time a bit softer. You carefully placed it back in the box, careful not to break it. “So I have a free wish and a memory.”

You stroke carefully over the little package with your thumb, smiling down at it. It was simple, but that didn’t matter. Kyouya had given you a present. For your birthday. And it meant an awful lot to you.

After a short silence he spoke up again. “So, what are you going to wish for?”

You thought for a second, but then shook your head. “Well, I can’t tell you yet, can I? Maybe I’ll let you know once it became true.”

He scoffed. “It’s a daruma, not a birthday cake.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s a secret." You carefully placed it in your bag, and instead took out your phone. “I should tell Miwako that I am coming home, though.”

But as happy as you had just felt a second ago, as physically sick were you getting now, because when you lit up your phone screen you noticed that you had five missed calls. Your heart, which had been beating happily until now, seemed to miss a beat, as you could feel the familiar feeling of uneasiness rise up in your throat.

“What the hell”, you whispered, and noticed Kyouya shifting, but you didn’t look at him. Suddenly you had a really bad feeling.

You held the phone to your ear and listened to the familiar beeping, until your aunt picked up, her tone making your blood run ice cold. Something had happened.

Without a word you handed Kyouya the phone, your voice dry and emotionless. You noticed your hand was shaking. “She wants to talk to you.”

Miwako had not actually told you what had happened yet, she had wanted to know if you were still at Haruhi's and although she had hesitated for a split second, she had requested to speak with Kyouya once she found out that he was taking you home. You tried to focus on your breath, on his expression as he talked. Fear was creeping up on you and made it hard to breath. You heard your aunt say something indistinguishable for you and suddenly Kyouya looked at you, expression serious and it didn’t help. You had never seen him like this. You tried to focus on his features to calm you down, his sharp cheek bones, his perfect skin. The neatly combed hair, the full lips and the dark brown eyes that wouldn’t look away from you. You noticed a small beauty mark on his chin and you wondered if he had always had that, tried to think about everything else than what your aunt was going to tell you in a moment.

Kyouya didn’t say anything about you staring and instead he handed the phone back to you after what felt like forever. Your hand was still shaking as you picked it up from his grip, his fingers brushing against yours, and you wished they would have stayed, you wished he would hold your hand, keeping you safe and steady, but instead he was just watching you, prepared for whatever would come next.

-----

You dropped the phone, your breath was going rapidly now. “Stop the car”, you hissed and as Kyouya didn’t react you said it even louder. “Stop. The car!”

Kyouya gave the order to the driver and although your gaze was still focused on your own feet, you felt him pull in to the left and stop. The second the car stopped, you ripped open the door and ran outside. “(Y/n!)”, you heard Kyouya’s voice behind you. “You can’t just – ”, you heard him get out behind you, but you didn’t care you ran the past few metres to the closest bush you saw and you just threw up. Your stomach was cramping and you couldn’t keep in anything from the lunch you had just shared together at Haruhi's place. You didn’t want him to see you like that, but you also couldn’t make it stop.

He hesitated getting closer to you at first, but finally seemed to get over himself and knelt down next to you. He didn’t look at you, you noticed from the corner of your eye, his gaze was lifted up into the sky to give you at least a little privacy and you were thankful for it. He had positioned a hand on your back, kneeling next to you at the roadside, waiting for you to be done.

You coughed a few more times and looked up to see him hold out a textile handkerchief to you. You didn’t protest, but just grabbed it, cleaning your face, trying to understand what was happening. You were still breathing rapidly and you felt the first hot tear, running down your face. You tried to bring sense into what just had happened, but you couldn’t. Your mind was full and you didn’t know on what to focus first. You buried your head in your hands and let out a silent scream, your body heaving with sobs your mind filled with sheer panic.

You were on your knees in the middle of the city, right in front of the guy you liked and who after this would surely never be able to see you the same way, unable to move a muscle. Your body was heaving with sobs, but no noise escaped your mouth. It was all your fault. Your aunt was in danger. You had ruined it all, she should have never taken you in. You destroyed her life yet again. She could have gotten away if it wasn’t for you.

Suddenly you felt two hands on your shoulders, gently pushing your upper body up, so that you were forced to sit up. You still let your head hang low, your eyes pressed shut, it was all too much.

“(Y/n)”, you heard Kyouya’s clear voice through your haze of noise, feeling his hands gently press into your shoulders. “(Y/n), look at me.” You didn’t move. His grip tightened, but not enough to hurt, just to emphasize his words. He said it again, more demanding this time. “(Y/n), I need you to look at me.”

You tried to take a deep breath, opening your eyes and looking up into Kyouya’s face. Something about the expression on his face made all the noise and all the voices become quieter. You tried to block out everything else, the street, the people watching, and just focus on his face, his eyes, his voice, his scent. You just felt his hands on your shoulders, saw his face in front of you and heard his clear voice. “Your aunt is safe. I have dispatched two officers of our police force.” You wondered when he had done that, but it didn’t even matter. You nodded carefully. “One in front of your house. And one in front of the hospital. She is going to be safe.”

Your breath became calmer again, you were mesmerized by his voice and by his eyes. You couldn’t look away. The fear subsided slightly. You still couldn’t speak and you were still trembling.

“And I have promised your aunt to keep you safe, too, and I am very intent on keeping my promise.” You nodded. He let go of your shoulders without a warning and stood up, looking down at you expectantly. “Get up. You're stronger than this.” He wasn’t going to help you up. He expected to get up yourself. All he did was hold out a hand for you to grab, but the rest you had to do yourself. You wanted to collapse again, but you took a deep breath. He was right. You had done it before, you could do it again. Your aunt was safe, that was the most important thing and you couldn’t rely on other people for the rest of your life. “I do not know what exactly is going on, but I can promise you that nothing is going to happen to you.” His voice was firm and it was exactly what you needed right now. You believed him.

You took one last breath, before you took Kyouya’s hand, using it to stabilize yourself while standing up. You were still trembling, but you could somewhat think again. “Very good”, he said, and your heart leaped in your chest. You wanted to do well. You nodded carefully, your voice still hoarse and your throat hurting from puking and crying. “Thank you”, you said awkwardly not knowing what to do now, trying to bring sense into your head.

“Get in the car”, he ordered, although his voice was a little softer now. “I am going to bring you back to Haruhi’s place.”

You nodded and followed him into his car. You were staring at your knuckles, your fists were clenched so hard that they had begun to turn white.

“I am sorry”, you whispered, and Kyouya looked at you, as he scooched in after you. He didn’t say a word, but instead after a short pause, and what looked like him considering the situation, wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly. He didn’t say it was alright, he didn’t tell you all would be fine. He was far too pragmatic for that. He was just sitting next to you holding you, calmly, and although your heart skipped a beat at the sudden contact, you actually managed to calm down and breathe again. Suddenly, you felt safer. He didn't have to say another word for you to understand that he was not going to let anything happen to you. His touch grounded you. The rest of the car ride was silent, you trying to calm your breath, breathing in his scent, and him, silently gazing out the window, his muscles tensing up every now and then, when you felt the car come to a stop. For a few seconds the whole world seemed to stand still, until you heard Kyouya's voice speak up in the silence.

“I'll keep my promise." And with these words he let go of you and the car door opened. Ranka-san was already waiting outside, ready to greet you. You nodded, not able to speak, but you hoped he still understood what you were trying to tell him. Right when your foot touched the pavement you felt his grab on your wrist one last time. You turned around to him. “I’ll call you.” He had said, expression stone-cold as you had gotten out of the car. Ranka immediately rushed towards you, taking you tightly into her arms and you welcomed the embrace. You looked at Kyouya’s car drive away silently, while Ranka carefully guided you inside. You felt even more miserable. Your parents really had to ruin everything. If you had been sure that there was no way he liked you back before, now you were absolutely certain that a Kyouya Ootori would never be with a pathetic girl whose own parents didn’t even want her. And if that wasn’t even the worst, again you were nothing but a burden to everybody. Haruhi and Ranka included.

-----

You let yourself drop on the floor in your room, your back against your wardrobe. It had been an exhausting day. After a night at Haruhi’s and what felt like forever, Miwako had finally decided that it was fine for you to come home. Carefully you had gotten out of the station and ran home, all the time worried that a familiar face would pop up or similar. But nothing happened. As it seemed, they didn’t know where you lived. At least not yet.

Your gaze fell on your backpack, and you pulled it closer to you. You opened it and fished out the small package with the blue bow.

Carefully you got out the Daruma. It was looking at you with blank eyes, and you stared back, feeling as empty as the little doll. Tentatively you took of the little charm and tied it to a little opening in your phone case. Then you got up and looked around the room for a marker. Once you had found one, you sat back down, popped off the cap and began to write your wish. Shortly after you carefully drew in the left eye of the Daruma, who was now halfway looking back at you. You placed it on your desk and just sat in front of it, looking at your new little friend, thinking about the man who had given him to you. The man who probably now saw you in a completely different way than he had before. If you maybe had had some hopes that he might like you before, you knew now he for sure would not. You hadn’t wanted him to see you in such a state. You hated being so weak and usually you weren’t. It was just that whenever your parents would be involved it would all come back.

Shivering you remembered the nights in the cold room, barely any belongings, no friends, waiting for the next punishment to come your way. You played with your little charm. These days at the sea with Miwako had been your only way to get out. Three days without fear. Before you had had to go back. You had begged her so often not to bring you back. But it had taken years for the abuse to become visible enough that she would betray her own sister and run off with you like that. You didn’t blame her. It had been a big step and you were happy she had been brave enough for the two of you to take it.

Suddenly the phone in your hand began to ring and before you had even looked at the display you knew who was calling. You bit your lip, thinking for a second, before you eventually picked up.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” You knew it was him, you had ignored his call already twice this evening. You were too embarrassed and not ready for the talk you knew would follow. You had been so embarrassed about how weak you had gotten. About what this simple phone call had done to you. This wasn’t like you, you used to fight. When you didn’t reply, he spoke up again.

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded cold and emotionless and you knew he was mad at you for not picking up earlier.

“Yes… Thank you again. I don’t think I can ever repay you.”

“Not all my life revolves around favors, you know?” Ouch. You were silent for a while.

“Kyouya-senpai, I…” I am sorry. I am embarrassed. Please don’t think lower of me because of what happened today.

“I think you owe me an explanation.”

You nodded. “You’re right”, you whispered. “I am sorry. I will tell you, I promise just… not now. Please”, you begged, and you were surprised that your voice broke. You were so tired.

“I hope you are aware of the expenses I had to spare for you in the past week alone.”

“I know, I am sorry.”

“I do not want to hear you apologize.” Tears formed in your eyes at his harsh words. You wished he would just stop talking, you were already feeling bad enough. He cleared his throat and continued speaking, his voice a bit softer. Maybe he had realized he had been too harsh on you. “I mean, there’s no need to apologize.” Another short break. “I was worried.” Surprised you hick-upped. You hoped he hadn’t heard it, but if he had, he chose to ignore it. “I want to help you, (y/n), but I cannot do that, if you will not tell me what is going on! All your aunt told me that she needed me to get you to Haruhi safely and that she couldn’t go home herself either.”

“You’re right”, you agreed.

“I won’t force you”, he finally said to your surprise. “Stay safe. I’ll see you next week.”

After this call you felt emptier than you had before.

Little had you known that he had focused on whatever else as to control the anger that had risen in his chest. He didn’t know who had hurt her like that but one thing was sure, they were going to pay for it. He had theories of course, after all, Kyouya wasn’t stupid. He could count one and one together, but either way he needed to know what was going on with her. What happened to her in the past. He bit his lip, staring at his phone, thinking about what it was that he was feeling.

He had come to care about (y/n) he had to admit to himself. Deeply. Was this still just having a crush? Either way he knew that he wanted to protect her and that he wanted to get rid of whatever or whoever was torturing her this way. Having seen her breakdown in front of him like this, had almost shocked him. She was usually very put together, smart, witty and always had an answer. But from one second to the next she had absolutely broken down and a tight knot had formed in his chest seeing her like this. He had wanted to hug her, take her in his arms, but he wasn’t sure if what she needed maybe was space, so he had opted for that.

He knew she was strong enough to get through it herself, but he still had wanted to help her. He had rarely felt as helpless as in this moment. The last time she was in danger he had lost control. This time he wanted to keep it for her sake. But little did she know that the second he had let go of her, the second his car drove away, he had exhaled shakily, fists clenched, trying to suppress the anger that he had kept in his chest ever since he had talked to her aunt and the worry he had tried to deny up until that point.

#ootori kyoya #ohshc kyoya #ootori kyouya #kyouya ootori #kyouya #kyouya ootori x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc x reader #ohshc fanfic

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