#i would also like to thank the wardrobe department for putting him in a blue jacket

[stationoneeighteen]

EVAN BUCKLEY ❈ 7.04 'Buck, Bothered and Bewildered'

[youchangedmedean]

Why Dean’s Heaven Outfit is so Cursed

You may have seen my previous post about why Dean’s outfit in heaven is so cursed, but since then I have spotted even more.

According to Jared at the Virtual Con after 15x20 aired when asked ‘Were any lines added or ad libbed by you two [Jared and Jensen]?’ (starts at 29:28 timestamp)

... So, when we’re on that bridge and uh, and Dean says, “Heya Sammy” and then it cuts to Sam, and I’m dressed like, as best I could, like uh like the pilot with Dean, y’know. ...

So from this, we know that Sam on the bridge in 15x20 was supposed to be dressed like the pilot. I infer that Dean was also supposed to be dressed like the pilot but based on the wording it’s possible that’s not what he meant. As soon as we got BTS pics from the last day on set however, we all pointed out that they were dressed like the pilot but there is a difference.

So what did Dean wear in the pilot? He had on 2 different outfits. First a dark jacket and a red shirt.

After Dean gets covered in mud, he changes into a denim shirt and John’s leather jacket.

Another thing to note is that both Sam and Dean wear sneakers in the pilot. No boots for Dean.

So it looks like for Dean in 15x20, the heaven outfit is based on outfit 1 with the dark jacket, plain red shirt and jeans.

Dean consistently has plain red shirts through the seasons and continues to wear the dark jacket until 9x03 so I would bet that the very jacket was sitting in storage until s15.

Something to note is that while Sam is in a virtually identical outfit in 15x20 and the pilot, Dean is not. They must have had to source Sam’s outfit specifically for this. Sam does wear a hoodie and a beige jacket in later seasons so they could have built it out of Sam’s wardrobe but they chose not to. He does not wear these exact clothes at any other point in the series apart from in Heaven. Dean’s Heaven outfit is just made out of his clothing from later in the series. They both wore sneakers in the pilot but in Heaven Dean still has his boots while Sam is wearing sneakers.

Compare:

If I was building Dean’s heaven outfit out of later seasons outfits, I would have chosen his plain red shirt (note: this is not the Demon!Dean/MoC!Dean shirt, it is a different one).

By the later seasons, Dean doesn’t actually wear dark dark jackets much. His only black jacket in s15 was this denim one which he has had since 10x04:

But the wardrobe department decided not to go for these and instead decided on cursed items instead.

So what was Dean wearing in Heaven?

The Shirt

Now this shirt is just plain cursed. This is only seen at 2 other points in the whole series, and it was a new one for s15. 

We first see it in 15x04 Atomic Monsters for the Chuck AU where Lucifer!Sam kills Dean. Directed by Mr Jensen Ackles himself.

Thanks to him, we also get a good look at the shirt

So this is the first time we ever see this shirt and its for a Chuck AU where Sam kills Dean.

The second time we see it, its in 15x13 and this is another cursed appearance. It is worn by Huntercorp!Dean while pretending to be our Dean in the bunker.

And why was Huntercorp!Dean there at all? Because Chuck was destroying worlds.

When AU!Dean leaves the bunker, there is an exchange that is a bit cursed.

Huntercorp!DEAN: Oh, uh, you think we could keep the flannel shirts?

DEAN: No.

So the shirt actually gets a mention by Huntercorp!Dean.

What we see here is that this shirt is NEVER worn by our Dean. It is worn by a Chuck AU Dean and Huntercorp!Dean fleeing a world Chuck had destroyed while pretending to be our Dean.

We never see our Dean wear this shit until Heaven which seems like an odd choice.

Dean also doesn’t normally wear red and black plaid shirt. In fact, the previous one he had has an interesting history as pointed out by @wigglebox​ when we were discussing it.

It is first seen in 12x21 and he continues to wear it into 12x23 when Dean has to go into Mary’s mind.

We then see it again and for the last time in 13x16 Scoobynatural.

Both of these episodes are sort of AU episodes where he’s venturing into another character’s mind or heading into Scooby-Doo world.

So both Dean’s black and red plaid shirts have a cursed history relating things not being real and for this specific shirt, AUs. They could have chosen a plain red shirt almost identical to the pilot but they chose not to.

The Jacket

Dean has this jacket for a long time. He has a blue one and a black one. This black jacket has been around since s9 and gets worn a fair bit. On the whole, it doesn’t have a very happy history, its first worn for Kevin’s funeral in 9x10 and is worn after Claire is bitten by a Werewolf in 12x16.

However, the most notable thing about this jacket is what should have been it’s demise.

Dean is wearing it in 13x23 when he fights Lucifer and AU!Michael takes over his body.

At the end of the episode, we see that Michael has changed dean’s clothes and presumably ditched them somewhere.

Dean comes back at the end of 14x02 wearing Michael’s clothes. He arrives back at the bunker in 14x03 and changes into Dean clothes but is missing his watch for the whole episode, presumably because Michael ditched it. The denim shirt Dean wears in 13x23 is never seen again (yes, I have watched s14 and s15 just to check and have spreadsheets for Dean’s outfits!). His boots are back in 14x03 but I suppose you could argue he had multiple pairs.

We are left to assume that the jacket is also gone (and it really should be gone) but it makes a miraculous reappearance in 14x13 Lebanon.

Now this episode is an odd episode. They get their Dad back by messing up time, Cas doesn’t know them until they reset it back again. The shirt in this episode is also notable and I will write a post on it soon. So again, we have part of Dean’s heaven outfit connecting to alternative timelines where it really shouldn’t be at all.

BUT IT GETS WORSE EVERYONE!

This jacket appears at just one other point in s15. Now if you had to pick the most cursed of cursed times to put it where would you put it on Dean?

The Vamp Chuck future in 15x09 where Sam and Dean die as vampires.

So this jacket should have disappeared in 13x23 but reappears for an episode where time is altered in 14x13 and when Chuck is showing Sam the future in 15x09 if they ‘win’ and they die as vampires. Dean is then killed on a vampire hunt in 15x20 and ends up wearing this jacket in Heaven. Cool, cool.

This jacket becomes connected to our Dean but in altered timelines and worlds while the shirt is connected to alternative Deans. Both the shirt and the jacket have direct connections to Chuck.

So we see Dean in Heaven wearing this cursed outfit drinking cursed El Sol beer with the same cursed monkey from 14x13 Lebanon (see above, it was in the roadhouse too).

This is not an outfit that screams happy. This is not an outfit that screams Sam and Dean won. This is an outfit that seems to scream Chuck won. 

I guess we’ll just have to wait until Jackles manages to get a continuation...

One final odd thing to note. We all remember Jensen’s video posted before the finale when he was dressing up as Dean for the last time “at least for now”. Well he wasn’t actually wearing the outfit Dean wore in Heaven although all the Heaven scenes were shot on the last day of filming, the 10th of September.

He was wearing the Heaven plaid shirt, but not the Heaven Jacket. It was Dean’s black denim jacket I pointed out earlier. If you look it has seams that the Heaven Jacket doesn’t and the pocket flaps are a different shape.

I have gone through all the Heaven scenes and he is wearing the Heaven jacket in all of them. But I can’t think of a reason why on a hot day in September when Jensen is getting changed into costume he would have a different one of Dean’s jackets on over the shirt he needs to wear for the scenes.

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[misscarolineshelby]

Spanked

Part Two: First Day

Pairing: Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader Words: 1,345 Warning: None…This is only the beginning!

Original Blog: @queenshelby (this is just my backup account as I have been having Tumblr issues)

When you told your friends and roommates about what had happened to you that morning, they couldn’t believe it.

Whilst you were excited to be working for one of the largest enterprises in the UK, they were more intrigued by the fact that you were going to work directly for Thomas Shelby who was a well-known business man and who was quite popular with the ladies across the country.

The 39-year-old had quite a reputation which is what attracted these women. But you decided that you wouldn’t be one of them.

According to your friend, he was the perfect mix between an elegant business owner and a working a class man. He was different to many others out there and, unlike the other men in charge of other big corporations in the UK, he had built his wealth by himself.

Of course, when you read his name on the business card, you remembered reading the rumours in the papers. According to the London Telegraph, he was said to be involved in some illegal businesses as well and it was believed that he had built his empire through drug trafficking and illegal race fixing. But these were just rumours. Thomas Shelby hadn’t served any prison time and was never convicted of any crimes. It was only his brother, Arthur Shelby, who was charged with two murders but never convicted.

He was also involved in politics, having acted as an MP until it became too boring for him. Luckily for him, he maintained connections to other politicians and judges and, miraculously, he had no problems getting licences for any and all of his business operations.

But none of this bothered you much. You saw this job as an opportunity and stepping stone of some sort.

***

Despite your lack of interest in the man himself though, you listened to your friend’s advice when it came to appropriate office attire.

‘You cannot possibly wear this’ your roommate said as she watched you put on a grey coloured suit and a black blouse.

‘That’s what you wear to an office though’ you said somewhat confused while looking into the mirror.

‘Men like something to look at. At least wear a dress and show some legs. You never know, you might even find your prince charming’ your roommate then said with a cheeky smile before disappearing into her room and returning with three dresses for you to choose from.

Of course, she had a point. You had been single for two years and, before that, you had one boyfriend who was just as nerdy as you were. He was your first and your last.

After trying on all three dresses, you chose an elegant knee length black dress but, when you put on some stockings and shoes, your roommate shook her head again.

‘Oh god no. Please let me style you’ your roommate insisted.

‘No, I don’t have time’ you huffed out, looking at your watch.

‘I will style you up for your first day and then I will call you a taxi. I will use my father’s credit card. He won’t even notice’ your roommate said and, after some convincing, you reluctantly agreed.

Your roommate quickly found some suspenders and stockings in her draws and made you put them on. Then, she looked for some shoes, but none of the ones she owned would fit you.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels in your other roommate’s wardrobe who, luckily, had the same shoe size as you.

Finally, she applied your make up and straightened your hair. It looked perfect and she was certainly impressed with her own work.

‘Holy shit, I am fucking awesome’ your roommate then said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I look good’ you said somewhat surprised as you looked into the large mirror in your bedroom.

‘You fucking do. Go and get yourself a suitor’ she teased you and you shook your head.

‘No, I am there to work, not to flirt. Despite, I don’t even know how to flirt’ you admitted and your roommate couldn’t help but giggle.

***

When you arrived at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, you were greeted by a tall dark-haired woman who showed you to your new office.

It was near the reception area and you were surprised by the layout of the building. Everything was made of glass and the floors looked like marble. It was incredible.

Lizzie explained to you how things worked around the office and told you that you would be reporting to a man by the name of Michael Grey.

‘I thought I will be reporting to Mr Shelby’ you said somewhat surprised, causing her to laugh.

‘Sweetheart, please don’t flatter yourself. You are here on your merit but no one new reports directly to Mr Shelby apart from me and Michael Grey. He only likes to deal with people he knows and trusts’ Lizzie said before handing you your office swipe card and a stack of files for you to look at it.

Just as you sat down and Lizzie took a seat right next to you, talking you through the accounting software the company uses, you saw Tommy enter the reception area.

He was accompanied by a tall blonde woman who was wearing expensive clothes and was carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag.

‘Who is this?’ you asked curiously, causing Lizzie to look up from the computer.

‘Elaine Sutton. Apparently, she is the flavour of the month. He likes attractive women who don’t talk much, which makes her perfect’ Lizzie chuckled, seemingly annoyed by the woman.

‘How did you become Mr Shelby’s personal assistant?’ you then asked and Lizzie chuckled again.

‘I’ve known Thomas since he was eighteen. I used to be married to his brother, John Shelby, before he passed away’ Lizzie said and you were surprised by her directness and openness about it.

‘Any more questions or can we get back to work now?’ she then said and you apologised to her immediately.

***

Throughout the day, you developed an investment scheme to lower the tax rates the company was otherwise required to pay in the next financial year. This was what you had mentioned to Tommy at the café and you assumed that it was what he wanted you to do when Lizzie handed you the relevant files.

As you were working through them one by one, you also became to notice that Tommy himself was quite the talking point between the women in the office.

His blue eyes, his expensive suits and what tie he was wearing was on today’s agenda in the lunchroom and you couldn’t help but be amused.

Then, all of a sudden, there was dead silence. The room went quiet and no one said a word as the man himself entered the lunch room.

‘Can I get you anything Mr Shelby?’ one of the service employees asked nervously.

‘Can you tell me where the cable ties are kept, please?’ he said in his low gruffy voice and, just when the employee nodded and told him that she would fetch some for him, he approached you.

‘Office attire suits you much better than coffee-stained clothes Y/N’ he observed, causing you to swallow harshly, smile and nod.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Shelby’ you stammered out in response just as the service clerk returned with some cable ties for Tommy and he walked off.

‘He knows your name’ a short brunette woman observed. ‘I’ve been working here for a year and he hasn’t even noticed me’ she then said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘Well, I spilled hot coffee onto him yesterday at the Coffee Bean Café across the road which probably made stick’ you said somewhat embarrassed, causing the woman to laugh before introducing herself to you.

Her name was Emily and she was also working in the business advisory department. Just like you, she was smart and nerdy and you knew that you would be getting along well.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian  @queenyshelby ​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  @midnightmystic​

[thewritetofreespeech]

Words: 3800+

Rating: M

Pairing: Benimaru (TSSK) x Reader

Summary:  Rimuru-sama had told Benimaru about a tradition from his world called a 'honeymoon'. He thought it was a great idea.

AO3

It had been several months since the night you and Benimaru had become true husband & wife.

After the envoy left, you talked more about things. As expected, there were still a bit of growing pains in forming your relationship from what it once was into what it was now. However, you were making it work.

Benimaru was patient and kind as ever, but unexpectedly different when you were alone together. You hadn’t thought he would be like this. You had only seen him in a ‘formal’ capacity most times, the job of the Commander in Chief of the Jura forces was one that never really rested, or appropriately close when with the rest of your friends. Now though, you got to see another side of him.

He was funny. Playful. Once he let his guard down, he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you’d originally thought. Actually, he could be quite goofy. His devotion was not only to Rimuru-sama and your people, but also devoted to you. He was always asking how your day was and if things were alright. Making sure you were provided for. Passionate.

You blush as you put away the linens you had folded up from outside. Benimaru had apparently not been kidding when he declared he’d claim your body everyday if he had to to prove it was his. Not that he needed to prove it. You had openly and willingly accepted yourself as his, and he yours. Still, almost every night, he came to you when you laid in bed together to physically profess his love. The man seemed insatiable. Though you weren’t exactly complaining.

You look up from your chores as the devil himself appeared. Coming through the door as if your thoughts had conjured him.

“Benimaru-kun! You’re back early. Did the meeting go well?” The kijin nodded as he removed his sword and sat it in it’s usually place next to the door. “I’m glad to hear it. I didn’t expect you home so soon, so I haven’t started dinner. I’ll get started now, but it will be a little bit.”

“In a moment [Y/N]. I need to talk to you.”

You pause on your way out the door and back track back over to the table to sit across from your husband. “Rimuru-sama has asked me to go on an ambassador mission in the mountains. To seek an alliance with the Yuki-Oni there.” You blink a little in surprise at the news. Though you were sure Benimaru could handle this, and seemed very pleased at being selected by your lord, you have to wonder about the forethought he put into it. Sending a fire oni to speak with a village of snow oni seemed uncharacteristically irresponsible of your lord.

“Well, I’m happy for you dear. I’m sure your trip will be successful.” Benimaru seemed to beam brighter at being complimented by you. “So I’ll see you in, what, a few days?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with me.” You were taken by surprise again. Had Rimuru-sama asked you to come? “I asked Rimuru-sama about it, and he said he could spare you for the few days.” Benimaru added, as if reading your mind. “It would be a nice chance for you to see places outside of Rimuru City. And Rimuru-sama told me about a tradition in his former world called a ‘honeymoon’. It’s when two newly wedded people go on a trip together shortly after their married to spend time together.”

“But, Benimaru, we’ve been married for more than a short while now?” True, your real married life had only begun a few months ago, but you had been married for over a year now.

“I know. But we didn’t go on one or do anything when we got married. I thought it would be nice.” The usually proud warrior looked down at the hardwood of your table, blushing and rubbing the back of his head in a shy manner. “Plus, I don’t want to go if I have to leave you here. I was serious when I said I never want to be without you by my side.” A declaration he had also made more than once since that night. “I’ll…be lonely without you.”

You put your hand against your mouth, pretending to be in thought. In reality you were trying to hide the goofy grin spreading across your face. How could someone so fierce and intimidating also be so adorable?

“Ok, I’ll go with you.” You finally announce, as if you had thought it over and come to a decision. “It would be nice to see the world a little. And, if Rimuru-sama can spare both of us, I see no reason not to go.”

The red head beamed ecstatically at your reply, then leaned over the table to give you a peck on the cheek. “Excellent! I’ll let Rimuru-sama know and tell Shuna to finish making your cold weather wardrobe!”

“Shuna? Hey wait.” Benimaru stopped in the doorway. “You asked Shuna to make me a cold weather wardrobe before you even asked me? What if I had said no?”

The oni looked at you like the thought had never crossed his mind. Then he grinned again and said ‘well, it all worked out’ in a rush before he left again. Alone, you shook your head. Honestly. What was your husband thinking sometimes?

*****

It took some time to get the preparations set, but soon enough you were ready to travel to the mountains to visit the Yuki-Oni.

“Safe travels, onee-san!” Shuna told you in parting with her usual bright smile.

She had called you that before, but in recent months it sounded more like she meant it. Thinking of you more now as a true ‘big sister’, married to her brother, than an older woman she could depend and rely on. The former was still true, but it was clear in her tone she thought of you more as family.

You depart Rimuru City with everyone’s blessing. Coming to see you off until you were out in the country side and off on your journey.

It took a few days to make it to the Yuki-Oni village. Between the distance and intentionally treacherous path up the mountain, it had taken a bit of time. It hadn’t been all bad. While still down in the valley you had stopped for a picnic once or twice, and laid in a field of flowers you had come upon for a bit to soak up the sun and sweet smell. Benimaru said that this was one of the things that Rimuru-sama told him people did on their ‘honeymoon’. You weren’t sure about that, but it was a much-needed respite from your travels.

Arriving at the village, you were greeted warmly by the ice monsters. They all seemed very demure and polite. A cool sort of air about them that really fit with the cold aesthetic of their homeland. The men were all tall and hard looking, while the women were all beautiful and waif like. Pale alabaster skin, long white hair, piercing blue eyes. You were glad you came with Benimaru now. Not that you thought for a moment he would be unfaithful to you, but you still didn’t like the idea of those beautiful creatures lingering around him.

You were shown to your quarters in the elder’s home before you were to meet with the council of elders. The idea of having to convince a council concerned you. It was harder to persuade a group than one. And the Yuki-jiji all looked like they were a group of men not to be easily swayed. “Maybe I should stay here?” You question as you unpacked your things.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think the Yuki-jiji appreciate women in their council meeting.” They didn’t even let their own women in. Let alone a human one. The last thing you wanted to do was insult these people, and their traditions, by forcing yourself in to the situation. “It might be best if you just go.”

“Ridiculous.” Benimaru said with a sneer. “We didn’t come all this way for you to sit in a room and be cast out.”

“I thought we came for our ‘honeymoon’?” You said as a joke. Trying to break this awkward tension.

“We came for two things.” He quipped back at you. “I want you to come with me. I want us to go together. I’m…not good at this sort of thing on my own. Rimuru-sama put his faith in me, and I’m grateful for this opportunity, but I think it’s misplaced. I’m much better at forcing an agreement at sword point, not conversation.” The kijin looked away, clearly irritated at himself for not being better at it no matter how hard he tried, before looking back at you. “If you’re there though, you’ll keep me grounded. I find your presence calming. So I’ll be less likely to make a fool of myself.”

“You won’t make a fool of yourself, whether I’m there or not.” You assure him while placing your hand against his cheek. It hurt your heart to hear him berate himself like this. Rimuru-sama picked him because he was more than just a strong arm at the end of a sword. Why couldn’t he see that? “Alright. I’ll go. I don’t know if it will really help but I’ll try to be supportive. To you and our cause.”

Benimaru smiled. Then tilted his hand to kiss your palm before squeezing it in his hand. “Let’s go then.”

*********

The meeting lasted most of the day, and well into the evening. By the time you both return to your provided quarters, you were both exhausted.

“Rimuru-sama will be happy to hear of our success.”

“I’m sure he will be. Jura seems to be growing by leaps and bounds.” Who would have thought?

“It’s all thanks to you.” Benimaru said as he came up to sit on your right.

“Me?” You remark in surprise. “I didn’t do much of anything?”

“That’s not true.” The oni said with a soft smile, shaking his head. “The way you talk to people. The way you talk about our home, and the virtue it brings. Not just it’s strength. How it’s a place for all. They could see that’s something they want to be apart of. Rimuru-sama was very wise to have you come along. As he always is.”

Your cheeks tint at Benimaru’s words. Such high praise something you never seemed to get used to. No matter how much he or the others lavished you with it, you always felt so awkward to be complimented by people.

“So, the evening is ours now. What shall we do?”

“Well, I was going to take a bath, buuut….” You look over at the provided tub. Not looking warm & inviting like a bath should, but cold & dark like a vat of despair. “I guess the Yuki-Oni aren’t a fan of hot baths.”

“I can heat it up for you.” Benimaru declared. Already activating his powers to do so. “A thing like this is not so hard. I’ll have it warmed up for you in a moment.”

“That’s amazing Benimaru!” You gush at your husband’s resourcefulness. Who knew he could be so handy?

The oni grinned wide. Briming with pride at the praise. He went over to the tub and slipped his hand into it. The water almost instantly steaming at the contact. “There! That should do it.”

“Ahhh…warm bath…” You sigh happily. Moved nearly to the point of tears at the idea of being warm for the first time since you got here.

You move to discretely remove your clothes and get in the bath, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye from Benimaru. The man not moving to leave as you’d anticipated, but undress as well. “What are you doing?”

The red head stopped in removing his undercoat and looked at your curiously. “Taking a bath?” The expression on his face saying ‘didn’t we just have this conversation’.

“Wait a minute! This is my bath! Did you really heat this up to steal my bath from me??”

“What? No! Of course not! I thought we could share.” He looked back to the tub, completely missing the blush and sudden halt in all function from you, as he examined it. “It’s big enough.”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to do that here.” You reply nervously. Cheeks still pink as you had a pretty good idea where this would lead.

“Come on. It’s just a bath.” Bemimaru insisted. “Besides, my powers for this work best when I’m in close proximity. If I’m not touching it, the water will just grow cold again.”

You have the sinking suspicion that he was lying to you. But it was a very convincing lie, and one you couldn’t really argue with. “Alright. But behave! We’re here as Rimuru-sama’s ambassadors. We shouldn’t be fooling around while guests in another person’s home.” A person whom you were trying to sway to your cause.

The red head nodded and assured you he meant no funny business. Again, you had the sinking suspicion he was lying to you, but couldn’t actually prove it, so you went along. You both stripped down and get in the tub. The only way you would both fit was if you practically sat in Benimaru’s lap. His back resting against the side of the tub while your back rested against his chest.

“Aaaahhh…” Your ‘chair’ sighed loudly. Feeling his sigh vibrate through your back as he relaxed. “This is great. We should have done this sooner.”

“Agreed.” You reply as you relax too against him. The warm water soaking out all the tired muscles from your journey and tension you had felt before the meeting. Making you complacent.

You both stay like that for a little while. Relaxing in the warm water in complete silence. Until you feel Benimaru’s hand brush against your arm. “What are you doing?” You asked in a drowsy, but mildly suspicious, tone.

“I was going to wash your back for you.” He replied against your ear. Making you shiver. “Can you lean forward for me?”

That nagging suspicion of his intent still clung to the back of your mind, but it was getting pushed further and further back by the warm water and his soft words. Having your back washed did sound nice.

The water slouched around a little as you moved to sit up and lean over the other side of the tub. “Is this ok?” You ask. Looking back over your shoulder from where you had cradled your head in your arms on the rim.

“Yeah….” Benimaru replied in a low voice. Looking at you. “That’s perfect.”

Your husband shifted around carefully, both to not hit you or splash the water out of the tub, as he came up on his knees behind you. The soft, wet sponge touched your back tentatively at first. But once you relaxed and even let out a soft sigh it became more diligent. His hands pressing a little harder with the sponge to give you a dual back wash & massage. It was extremely pleasant. The warm water and his warm hands on your body. So much so that you might moan a little when he came to your lower back.

“Ah…don’t do that to me…” Benimaru said. His voice sounding odd. Pained. It sounded so strange that you opened your eyes a little. You hadn’t realized you closed them. “I’m trying to be good and honorable. But if you moan like that, it gets very hard.” You’re not sure if he meant ‘it’ by the situation in question or the erection you were now feeling brush against your leg. When had that gotten there? You gasp at the feel of him against your thigh, but also the sponge and his hand shifting to your front; just at the top of your breast. “Please [Y/N]. Let me be with you. I can’t stand being without you anymore. It’s been so long.” You want to tell him that it’s only been a few days. But apparently, in ogre time, that was an eternity. He genuinely sounded like he was in agony right now. Not to mention that his hands wouldn’t stop touching you.

You’ll blame the warm water, and being so relaxed, and his damned skillful hands later, but your resolve broke quite easily. “Yes. Yes, I want you too Benimaru.”

You think you hear a happy rush of air level his lips before he moved forward and enveloped you. His broad chest encasing your back as he laid against it. His hands dropping the sponge to make direct, intentional touches with your body. His cock slipping between your legs to brush against your apex in pseudo-love making. You both moan.

He rutted against you like that for a moment. Thrusting against the outside of your opening. The hard lines of his cock brushing against the bundle of nerves at the top, making your insides quake and spasm greedily around nothing. “B-Benimaru….” You whine as you pressed back against him. His torturous touch driving you mad. “Please.”

Your husband groaned a little, low in his throat, before he kissed his mark behind your ear, where he had bitten you that first time, before lifting off to enter you. Being relaxed and the warm water made it easy, but he was as gentle as ever with putting it inside you. There was still a slight stretch with his size, but it’s a feeling you grown not only accustom to but relish. Just having him inside you made you moan wantonly.

“Ah…I keep telling you. Don’t do that to me.” Benimaru replied to your moan. You couldn’t see it with him behind you, but you could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. He pulled back and began to thrust, low and slow, into you. “I can’t control myself when you moan like that for me. How am I supposed to keep calm, and quiet, when you make my blood boil like that?”

“I’m…sorry…” You stutter out. Your voice staggered from his deep thrusts and your own labored breath of pleasure. “It just….feels…so good…..!” You moan again when his thrust went deeper this time. Hitting that place inside you that made you see stars.

He couldn’t control himself? What did he expect you to do when he was making love to you like this?

If anything, this was his fault

“Hmmm…this is no good…” You let out a surprised noise as Benimaru pulled out. You look over your shoulder. A little wounded at the comment. Not good? But before you could ask, or get more upset about the comment, Benimaru turned you around so you were facing him. Thrusting back into you in one swift move of your back hitting the tub and knocking all words out of your mouth. “I wanna see your face. It’s no good if I can’t see you and kiss you any time I want.” Then he did just that.

His tongue thrust into your mouth like his cock into your lower half. Swallowing your moans now that were flowing out unabashed. Doing it the other way had been nice, but you have to agree. This way was much better. Being able to kiss him. See his amazing body. Look into his beautiful eyes burning with such passion & love for you was bringing you closer to the edge than ever before.

“B-Beniamru! I…I’m close!”

“Me too.” The oni grunted out. Kissing your ear when you wrap your arms around his neck. “Cum for me my love. Let’s go together.” He always seemed to have a way with words with you, because you did as you were told and came around his cock.

His thrusts continue for a few moments longer, pounding through your orgasm, before they stop and Benimaru shuttered in your arms. A sign that he had finished too. You stay there for a moment. Holding each other loosely in the tub, before the kijin pulled back and looked around you like he just remembered where you were.

“I think we fucked all the water out of the tub.”

Your mouth scrunched up and you pinched Benimaru’s shoulder. “Don’t be vulgar.” He was right though. Now that your brain had resumed function again, you could see that half the water in the tub was gone. The floor soaking wet to the point you had to groan. No way you were going to be able to clean this up or explain this away without attracting attention.

The oni yipped at your pinch before he chuckled, then kissed you softly. He then stood from the tub, wet and naked and proud, before lifting you up out of it as well like a princess and carrying you over to the bed.

“We’ll clean it up later.” He stated, seeming to read your mind once again, as he laid you on the soft futon. “It’ll be alright.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into it.” You grumble. Pretending that you had been seduced, rather than whole heartedly accepting your husband in all aspects, as you dried yourself off. “What will the Yuki-Oni think.”

“That we are too people in love.” He replied quickly and with a smile. “The elders are all men. I’m sure they remember what it’s like to be young and in love, and unable to keep your hands off their young, beautiful wife.”

You blush a little at his words, but don’t really want to think about those old men being happy with their wives. “I suppose it’s a natural thing, but it’s still very rude to have sex in someone else’s house.”

“Maybe for humans. But we oni don’t see it that way.” Benimaru replied. Tossing his towel away. “Besides, Rimuru-sama said that this is something that most newlyweds do on their honeymoon.”

You shook your head as he pulled back the covers to let you both get under them. The room growing cold again now that you weren’t in the warm water, or doing other warm, pleasurable activities.

You snuggle together under the blankets. Watching the fresh snow flutter down outside the window. “Did you really need to be touching the water for your powers to work?” You finally ask.

You don’t know what his answer was going to be. But judging by the way your husband stiffened and balked at the question, you know now that he had been lying to you. “Well….it does work best that way. In theory. But….no….”

He turned away to not look at you. Or the steely stare you leveled at him. “Benimaru. I can’t believe you lied to me.” Sweat drops seemed to start pooling at his forehead as in flinched at your harsh words. Then he let out a startled sound as you flipped over on top of him, forcing him to look up at you with a confused expression. “You’ll have to be punished.”

[pascalpanic]

Just One Mission (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Champagne’s Daughter!Reader)

Inspo: I Like It, I Love It by Tim McGraw

Summary: Your father, Champ, runs Statesman, and you’re his best- and only- female agent. Your normal partner, Tequila, is out, leaving you with another agent. Normally this would be fine, but it’s with Whiskey, who practically ignores you, despite the fact that you’re crushing hard on him. You’re sent to the county fair to track an undercover bad guy under the guise of being a couple for your latest mission, and it starts to feel more and more like something is happening, not just between your fictional couple.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: language, obvious mentions of alcohol (this is Statesman after all)

A/N: Can I get a yeehaw for our favorite cowboy? Biggest of thank yous to @remmysbounty for helping me name this!

“You can’t be serious. Why can’t anything ever be straightforward around here? Why do I always have to go play make-believe?” You asked, pushing your glasses back up your nose to clarify his hologram. You move from where you stand, against the window showing the New York skyline, to walk towards the meeting table.

Champ gives a chuckle, as if he knows everything. Of course he does. He’s your boss and he never fails to make that known. “You came into this job knowing you’d be doing undercover work, Amaretto,” Champ says with a pointed look. You bite down on your lip to avoid cussing and look down to avoid his eyes. “Plus, you’re our best. And our only lady.”

“Whose fault is that?” you grumble, crossing your arms. Normally it doesn’t bother you much, but today you wished more women worked in the field. “Why can’t I go with Tequila? Him and I work well together, you know that,” you ask, hating your voice and your tone. You sound like a whiny teen complaining to her dad. Honestly, it was close enough, and maybe even worse: you were a fully grown woman complaining to her dad.

Your father, Champ, sighs and removes his hat. “For God’s sake, ‘Retto. Tequila’s mission has been extended. I’m sorry to tell you that Agent Whiskey will be your partner for just one mission, for one night.”

“Dad, I-”

“That’s Champ when you’re in here, Amaretto,” he chides, which makes you groan and plop down on an office chair, kicking your legs up onto the table and crossing them. “It’s a small mission. You can handle it. Whiskey’ll treat you right.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew you could handle it. You would be more than fine pretending to be Whiskey’s sweetheart for the evening. It was what came after that you didn’t want. You had known Jack for a while now, and had been hiding a crush ever since the man first entered your life. 

You had been a Statesman ever since your father revealed to you that he wasn’t just the head of the Kentucky distillery- he was the head of a spy organization under the same name. Your career here hadn’t been long, but you were already proving that the skills must run in the family. You were the first female field agent, had a perfect mission record, and no unnecessary kills or injuries. That impressed Jack as much as the rest of the facility, maybe even more. You were a stunning and sharp woman with brains to match. 

As much as Whiskey wanted to flirt with you, to tell you just what he thought of you, he held back. Your father held his job by a string. In order to hold back everything he thought, he kept a distance. You were the only woman in the company Whiskey didn’t flirt with. “He hates me,” you say sharply to your father, telling him what you really thought Whiskey’s opinion of you was. He complimented every woman around him, but he actively avoided you. When you had talked in the past, it was brief and he had always found an excuse to leave. How else could you take that?

“Prob’ly just jitters around the boss’s girl,” your father drawls, and you want to scream and shout and throw a temper tantrum. “Besides, you both have roles. Neither of you have to be yourself.”

Stopping you before you can launch into a rant, a knock comes at the meeting room door. You look and- speak of the devil- Whiskey peeks his head in, finding you alone in the meeting room. “Sorry. Heard ya talking, you in a meeting?”

Your father laughs as he hears the man’s voice. “Tell him to put on the glasses,” he tells you, only audible through your earpiece. You relay the message to him and once Jack’s glasses are on, he straightens a little, addressing your father. “Good to see you, Whiskey. Just telling Amaretto about the mission,” Champ tells him, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, that mission. Next week?” He asks, clarifying, eyes darting to you briefly before finding your father again.

“You got it.” A knock comes at the meeting room in Kentucky, and your father turns for a moment, then back to the two of you. “Ginger’s callin’. Talk to you later, darlin’, and you too, Whiskey.” He takes off his glasses and the image of him disappears. 

You remove your legs from the table, swiveling your chair and removing your glasses. “How exciting, huh?” You ask dryly, eyes finding Whiskey’s. “The hottest week of the summer and he’s sending us to Alabama to spend a night outside.”

Jack chuckles a little, your sarcasm penetrating through the shield he has up specifically to deflect you. “At the county fair, no less. Couldn’t these idiots set up shop in a refrigerated warehouse?” He sighs, adjusting his hat. 

Tearing your eyes from him, you look out of the impressive window instead. “Sure to be a fun time,” you shake your head. He looks so handsome, and it makes you want to punch something. “Why my father loves to put me in these situations, I’ll never know. He’d never do this to Julep,” you lament. “I must be the expendable kid.”

“Julep is 17,” Whiskey reminds you, raising a brow. “You’re the only one of age, and you’re probably the only competent one too. He showed me a video of Rosé at the gun range and good Lord, how the hell did a man like that birth something so clumsy?”

“Why do you know so much about my sisters?” You ask him, tilting your head. 

“Your father never shuts up about ‘em. He shows them off constantly,” he shrugs. “Shows us videos, pictures. Even knew plenty about you before you came.” You raise an eyebrow at that, and he shakes his head quickly. “Barely anything personal. Hell, I don’t know your real name. He’s never called you or your sisters anything but your nicknames.”

You stand, gathering the folder you brought into the room with you. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m not Champ’s daughter, I’m Agent Amaretto, and that’s the way I’d like to keep it,” you say, your voice slipping away from sharp and into flirtation. Whiskey’s deadpan slips into a smile and you press the folder into his chest as you walk past him, and out of the room. The smile grows wider as he turns to follow you.

-

Whiskey was right. It’s the hottest week of the summer, the August heat making you feel sticky and swollen, and you’re in Alabama. Disgusting. You look in the mirror and groan as you look at yourself. You were told that you and Jack need to blend into the atmosphere of the county fair, and you sighed. 

The past week, the two of you had prepped for your mission, slowly melting the thick layer of ice that subdued both your crush and his flirtation. He had slowly slipped into his regular self around you, which you didn’t notice. You didn’t know the real him. You had become more of yourself too; less sharp, more smiles, even a few laughs at his terrible southern euphemisms and adages. He finally called you darlin’ and sugar and sweet thing, and you felt your face warm more than it should. You let your walls down by the time you got on the plane, joking around with him and making actual conversation. During the flight, the two of you had enjoyed picking cover names, deciding on Beau and Jolene Pruitt, a newly married couple. Both were native Alabamians with thick drawls, not that it would be out of character for Jack.

Getting to wear casual clothing around that man excited you far more than it should, and you had spent a stupid amount of time picking out something that would fit in but also look nice. The wardrobe women had packed you plenty of options to mix and match from, and you settled on something that seemed to be a mix between your cover and yourself. You wore short denim cutoffs, ripped and distressed, with cowboy boots to match. You also wore a white tank top and a red, white, and blue flannel, either to be worn open or tied around your waist. A large gold cross pendant rested on your cleavage, as many women around here similarly had. It was imperative that neither you nor Whiskey could be recognized, and you had been given a wig of thick hair the opposite of your natural color, plaited into two French braids that were long and ended around your waist. No mission was complete without your gold, wire-rimmed Statesman glasses. 

You have to admit, you enjoy this look, minus the gaudy jewelry. You get to show off a little bit more than you normally would, and you secretly hope Whiskey may up his flirtation with you. You’re recognizable to someone who would know you, but the change of hair color and the glasses are a solid cover-up. You snap a picture in the mirror, sending it off to the ladies in the wardrobe department.  you ladies spoil me- I love getting to look cute for a change!

The women reply a moment later with a picture of all of them. You’re always cute, sugar! Show that man what he’s missing!

So, maybe you had confided to the wardrobe ladies that you found Jack attractive. Who didn’t? They agreed, but all showered you with attention and insisted you should make a move on this mission. You had said no, but they had hounded you over and over until you told them yes. It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

A knock comes at your hotel door, and you smile before you can stop yourself. You force yourself to drop it, tossing one of the braided tails over your shoulder, and open the door. “Well there, Beau,” you drawl as you see Whiskey, but you stop and laugh a little as you scan his body. 

His reaction is the exact same, after a brief scan of your outfit. You both break into laughter. Jack is wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel with a different pattern but the same colors- red, white, and blue. “Stealing my thunder with the outfit, I see. Are you going to put your costume on or what?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head. 

“Believe it or not, Jolene, this is my costume. Seems the only different thing about being Beau is my name.” He grins wide at you, adjusting his similarly gold-rimmed aviators that rest beneath his classic Stetson. 

You shake your head but smile. “Why am I not surprised?” You tease, turning and grabbing your phone and the large bulletproof purse you’d be carrying tonight. “The ladies in the wardrobe department are going to love this,” you chuckle, and then freeze for a second. 

They did this on purpose. 

Whiskey has the same thought as you. He had confided in the ladies in the wardrobe department that he found you absolutely stunning but unattainable, due to the fact that your father was the control of his… everything. They had chattered excitedly, telling him that he should make his move on the mission too. He had done the exact same as you- said yes, but as an appeasement. “Well, they sure are. We’ll have to get someone to take a picture of us while we’re there.”

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the fact that he wants a photo of this. It’s just for the mission, of course, you tell yourself and brush it off. “Oh, and that’ll be perfect cover. Of course these two would want a photo taken of them. We can do it right in front of the marks- better yet, we can ask them to take the picture,” you chuckle happily and sling the heavy purse over your body. 

“Or we can take a picture now,” he chuckles, nodding to the mirror you just took a picture in a moment ago.

“Sure,” you nod and lead him over to it. “Uh… smile?” You laugh and hold out your flannel for the photo. Jack makes finger guns and gives the camera a seductive face in the mirror, making you laugh. “Jesus, I thought you were the smooth agent.”

“Smoother than you. You’re smooth like a gravel road in a dry spell, look at that pose,” he says and zooms in on the picture. “Pose like you have some confidence in that pretty little head, honey,” he teases. “Copy me.” He makes the same pose, and you mimic it, taking a picture before bursting out laughing. “Much better,” he nods as he looks at the image. “Better send me that,” he nudges your side before walking to the door. “Well, Jo, let’s get this show on the road.” Smiling at the picture, you send the image to the wardrobe ladies. very subtle, Charlotte! You fire off before pocketing your phone and following him along. “Aw, Jo and Beau,” you coo, your personas snapping into place as soon as you leave the hotel room, clutching his arm. 

The two of you meander down through the hotel, finding your way to the parking lot. You break away from him to sit in the Bronco (of course he brought it) but you find yourself missing the contact of your arms intertwined. It’s probably for the best though, you think to yourself. If you have to keep touching him all night, it’s quite possible the Alabama heat may melt whatever’s left of the iceberg you’ve built to hold back your crush on him. 

-

A man bumps into you, and Whiskey is at your defense before you can defend yourself. “Watch it, cowboy,” Jack fires back, his hand resting on the small of your back. You smile up at him, practically making heart eyes. It looks in character, and you’re glad for that, but it’s entirely you. 

“My hero,” you giggle and place your hand on his chest. 

“Just for you, sugar,” he says sweetly and you beam up at him. He looks around, as you do, but the two of you rest there. It’s hot, unbearably, but yet you enjoy the contact your body makes with his. Both of you wear your flannels around your waist, allowing your grip on his arm to hold his strong muscles directly. It’s definitely enjoyable. “You hungry, honey?” He asks. 

You have to admit, you haven’t eaten much today, mainly out of nerves for the mission. But everything is going just swimmingly: you have eyes on the target, have a plan to infiltrate them later, and are now just biding time to seem normal. “I… yeah, I am,” you nod and look up at him. “How ‘bout some cotton candy?”

“Now, darlin’, if you’re hungry, that ain’t gonna do the trick,” he says and raises an eyebrow, removing his aviators and hooking them on his collar. “This is the county fair, for cryin’ out loud. Let’s get you something deep fried.” You nod in agreement and the two of you wander over to a stand selling various deep-fried atrocities. You smile and chuckle, letting him order for the two of you. The vendor hands you each a ridiculously large corn dog, and you laugh. 

The smell of the food makes your stomach growl. “Oh god, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was,” you moan as you bite into the food, your thick accent dropping. “Good choice, babe,” you tell him, smiling at how easily it comes. 

“I know you, sugar,” he teases, leading you to a picnic table where he sits across from you, munching on his own. No one else is around here, allowing you to speak freely. “Really, I do. I found out your real name the other day,” he says with a smile, and you nearly choke on the breading, halfway down your throat. He finally says your name aloud, drawing it out, making it sound like it’s coated in honey and dripping with flirtation.

You look down at your food, biting your lip. “Who told you that?” you ask, still staring down.

Jack chuckles at that, ignoring the question. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he teases, and you chuckle, shaking your head. The flirtation is much better than the stone-cold silence before a week ago, but it doesn’t do anything for the growing crush you have on the man. “Champ must’ve known you’d be a stunner.”

“Have you heard of nominative determinism?” you ask as you look up, tilting your head and twirling one of the long braids of your wig around your finger. The words sound funny with the thick accent you’re putting on. Whiskey shakes his head. “It’s this theory that your name shapes who you become. So, if you said that my name was chosen for beauty, I would grow to become my name, so I’d be beautiful.” He nods a little at that. “Do you believe in that kind of thing?” you ask him genuinely, tilting your head and taking another bite of the corn dog. 

“Clearly,” he chuckles through a mouthful of food before swallowing it. “Your name is pretty, you’re pretty. Someone has a name with a bad reputation, they become it.”

“Your mama named you Jack Daniels, you become Agent Whiskey,” you tease with a growing smile, accentuating that drawl that you’ve perfectly picked up from your father and the mustached man in front of you. “I’ve thought about that a lot with you. Did they assign you that name because of your name? My dad never talked about work with us before I became an agent.”

Whiskey shakes his head at you but does give a laugh. “Prob’ly, just thought it’d be funny, I ‘spose. They needed a new Agent Whiskey anyway, I believe. Last one died or retired, they never told me. Filling the vacancy while making a pun out of it. Your father has a sense of humor, doesn’t he? ‘S sure great at givin’ nicknames.”

You shake your head at that. “Don’t I know it. He’s been calling me Amaretto since I could give him sass back. Told me I was a little bitter, just like the word means in Italian. Julep’s too sweet, Rosé is a mix of gentle and bold. No one calls us by our real names unless we’re in trouble,” you chuckle. “You should hear my mama shout when Julep gets in trouble. She nearly shakes the house, and Julep likes to avoid it by pretending she can’t hear her. She’ll hide in her room, and my mama just shouts and shouts until the neighbors come over to make sure the family’s all still alive. It’s in a loving way, of course, nothing bad.” You shake your head, clearing the topic from yourself. “But it’s like your mama knew you’d get into something with alcohol. That’s odd.”

Jack chuckles and takes the last bite of his food. He doesn’t respond, just cleans up his little area and waits for you to be done, watching you with his chin resting in his palm. You smile as you notice that, looking away, and he does too. The two of you stand and walk along again. He offers his hand, to hold it, and you take it. You’re not entirely sure that he did that as Beau, and you’re certain you didn’t take his hand as Jolene.

Walking through the midway, you catch your mark out of the corner of your eye. “Go time,” you murmur to the man, dropping his hand. “Sir,” you ask and pat the man’s shoulder as he walks past. He stops and you shoot him a cheesy, massive grin. “Hi there, would you mind takin’ a picture for my husband and I?”

The man nods. “Sure, ma’am. Where do you-”

“Oh wonderful. Here,” you say and position the man, handing him your phone, then move back to stand by Jack. “Beau, honey, here,” you say as you position the two of you for the camera. You wrap his arm around your waist and place your hand on his chest, grinning ear to ear. He’s doing the same.

“How ‘bout this?” he asks, swooping you up and holding you bridal style. 

You squeal into his ear, laughing. You almost call him by his real name but stop yourself. “Beau, quit!” You giggle and smack his chest teasingly, playing along with it and smiling for the photo. He lets you down only to pick you up again, hoisting you onto his back, piggyback style. Finding no other choice, you wrap your arms and legs around him, and he rests his hands on your thighs to hold you up. “Beau Pruitt!” You exclaim, emphasizing the words, hoping that the man taking your photos registers the name, knowing it’s not someone threatening. He’d probably take your phone and run if he heard you call the man holding you up by his real name. 

He finally lets you down and you thank the man, taking the phone back and continuing to walk along, naturally lacing your fingers through Jack’s. “What was that?” you ask lowly, smiling despite the pretend annoyance in your voice.

“Playin’ the part, sugar,” he shrugs and smiles at you. As you wander through the midway, Jack’s eye catches on a brightly colored, massive teddy bear hanging from the rafters. When Jack gets a plan, he goes all in. “You know what, honey, if this is to be a proper date, I am gonna win you a teddy bear,” he chuckles, grabbing his wallet.

You quickly push the hand holding his wallet down. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. I don’t need a teddy bear,” you laugh.

“I am takin’ you on a date to the county fair. It’s only fitting that I win you a teddy bear!” He argues back, laughing. He hands a bill to the attendant, earning him quite a few balls to toss at the stacked milk jugs. “Here we go. This is for the big, tie-dye one up there,” he declares before hurling a ball. 

It hits the top jug and Jack winces. “Ah fuck. Bad shoulder,” he chuckles, picking up another.

“Then why the hell are you doing this, Beau?” you ask, catching yourself before you can call him Jack and holding down his arm. “I don’t need the teddy bear!”

“I already paid the attendant,” he chuckles and leans in to your face, taunting you. He uses your distraction to slip his arm from your grasp, throwing it and hitting the second row of bottles. “Hell yeah!” Jack crows excitedly, arms in the air. You laugh at his excitement and decide to let it happen. He throws three more balls before he knocks down the whole final row, whooping excitedly. “That one, if you please,” he tells the attendant and points to the large bear hanging from the ceiling of the booth. The attendant takes it down and hands it to him, and he promptly hands it to you, beaming. “For you, my dear,” he says, pride radiating from him.

“I love it,” you laugh and hug the massive bear to your chest, kissing its forehead. “I think I’ll name him… Whiskey.” He grins at that and takes your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

-

The rest of the night passes more like a date would than a mission. You and Jack converse happily, simply avoiding real names but talking like you would between friends. His hand rests in yours the whole night, and you enjoy it. The sun begins to go down and the humidity lessens, as does the stifling heat. It’s almost cool now; the both of you wear your flannels properly now, unbuttoned in the front. You munch contently on some cotton candy you finally convinced Jack to buy, even feeding him some to further your ruse. Sighing, you look around and take in the absolute perfection that is this tiny county fair. The sunset is beautiful and the lights of the carnival section are starting to come on. You start to speak until you hear a too-familiar voice through your earpiece.

“Amaretto, Whiskey. They set up shop in the pig barn, but they’re at their most vulnerable. Time to move.” You both groan as you hear your father’s voice. You look down at your interlocked hands between the two of you, then up quickly, remembering. Your father can see what you see with these glasses on. His voice comes in through your earpiece alone now. “See, I told ya it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time with Whiskey. I’ve noticed you’re not hating it.”

You shake your head and pull out your earpiece, tucking it in your pocket and murmuring a curse to your father. Jack notices and you simply shrug. “Wasn’t working right. You’re gonna have to relay the messages for me.”

He nods then pauses, listening. He chuckles and turns to you. “He says to put it back in, he knows you can hear him just fine.” You groan and put it back in with a frown. “Next time you want to have family dinner, count on one less plate,” you hiss through the piece, making both Jack and your father laugh. “Whatever, get us to the pig barn then.” Your father guides the two of you through your mission. They’re indeed at their weakest, just four men loading their van with their backs to you. Luckily, they’re the four that Statesman wants. You and Whiskey each easily take out two, leaving them tranquilized on the ground. “Pops, they’re good. Send in the recon van.” A few moments later, the van rushes in through the utility door, and two recon members load the men into the van. You and Whiskey give them a nod, smiling at them and thanking them before leaving the barn.

The voice comes through on just your earpiece again. “Take the rest of the night off. I know you want to.” 

He’s right, you do want to, and so for once, you listen to your damn father. “The rest of the night is up to us,” you say as you turn to Whiskey, removing your earpiece and your glasses and putting them in your bag. You reach for his earpiece, taking it out too, both of you almost shivering at the contact of your wrist to his cheek as you take it out. Jack catches your palm and plants a kiss to it and you grin. “Would you like to stick around, maybe go on some rides?” you ask and put away his earpiece before sliding your hand into his. “As Whiskey and Amaretto?”

Jack grins at you. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

The rest of the evening is spent on rides and eating ice cream, getting squished into Jack’s side on the Scrambler and flipped around on the Slingshot. You both laugh practically all night, overjoyed. You check your watch and look up excitedly, eyes lighting. “The fireworks are gonna go off in ten minutes.” You look at the wait for the ferris wheel- it’s about as long. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel to watch it.”

Jack nods. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he nods, lagging for a moment as you start to run to the next ride, then catching up and pulling you into his chest, kissing your head. You laugh at the feeling of being trapped in his arms and wrap your arms around him too, allowing the bear hug to last a moment longer than it should.

The both of you wait in line for a few minutes, continuing the conversation you’d been having before.

The line eventually shortens enough for the two of you to get on, and you sit, hands on the lap bar. Whiskey sits next to you, draping his arm across your shoulders. You look up at him and smile, scooting into his side. You give a little whoop of excitement as the ride starts moving, and you jump at a loud bang.

You timed it perfectly.

The sky lights with different colors, a variety of fireworks lighting off and illuminating the dark night sky. The stars are clear all the way out here, in the middle of Alabama, and you beam at the image. You pull out your phone to snap some pictures but Jack holds your hand down. “The pictures never do it justice, darlin’. Just look up at those and remember ‘em real hard.” Laughing softly, you rest your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watch. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and you look at Jack for a moment to find he’s not watching the sky, but has his eyes trained on your face, watching your reaction.

The moment is perfect. He can handle the rejection, he decides, if he has to, but he has to move now. “Can I kiss you, Amaretto?” He murmurs quietly, his face already moving close to yours. You give an answer in the form of a gesture: taking his face in your hands and closing the gap. The kiss is perfect, his soft lips tasting of the cotton candy you finally persuaded him to buy a few hours ago.

He sighs softly, his hand finding the side of your face as well. He breaks away for a moment and looks at your lovely face, grinning at the way your eyes reflect only his face, the dark night sky, and the colorful fireworks. “I think your pops named you wrong. Furthest thing from bitter. You’re the sweetest, most perfect thing I ever did taste,” he drawls before closing the space again, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart pounds in time with the bursts in the sky, erratic and loud, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve been crushing on since the moment your father introduced you to the Statesman.

A particularly loud firework startles you and you jump, breaking your kiss and grinning at him, the adrenaline from both the scare and the kiss pounding its way through your body. You look at him and want to say something but can’t find the words. You simply giggle and look into his eyes, making him laugh too. You sit there for a moment, laughing, while the ferris wheel stays stationary. As it moves, you cling to his chest again, looking up and beaming at him. “Kiss me again, cowboy,” you demand, and he chuckles.

“Any time, sugar,” he says with a smile as he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you again.

[penwieldingdreamer]

First Meetings

So, now that I have been stuck at home due to my mother's positive Covid test and watching The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for 6 days straight, inspiration struck again, thank god 🙏😅 The new center of this -maybe- series will be Lee Pace. Of course this is only a fantasy and everything only came from my imagination but with a pinch of real events happening, still it's going to be in an alternative universe.

Thanks for being my beta @fortheloveoffanfic

Hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you thought and if you like to be tagged in upcoming drabbles I have palned and will hopefully be able to continue now again.

Summary: You work as part of the Mae-Up and Hair Crew on set of the Hobbit Trilogy, where you meet many interesting people, but one has gotten more of your attention than you would have thought.

Warnings: none, except for a very long drabble 😅

Words: 1722

You had been part of the crew ever since Peter Jackson had started working on the Hobbit trilogy in 2011 and met everyone that had been essential to the movies on and off screen. Apparently Fran had seen your work first hand when you were at a competition for make - up artists and she was impressed by the end results. You hadn't won any of the prizes but you were only one against one hundred others and yet she wanted you to be part of the second historic movie trilogy PJ did in his life.

The first people you had met were of course the dwarves and Martin who was Bilbo in the movie. They all were fun to be around, especially Dean and Aiden, as well as James Nesbitt who would always greet you with jokes or a song, giving you something to look forward to during those nearly endless days of filming.

And then, at the ending of shooting the first movie of the trilogy Philippa came up to you, a very tall man following behind her. You had just gotten done with James' make-up and wanted some fresh air, with all the fumes inside the trailer you sometimes thought you might get sick, so you sat outside, watching the pair walk over to you.

"Y/N," she said in greeting, a smile breaking out on her face. "May I introduce you to our newest cast members. Lee is going to be Elvenking Thranduil and he's in need of your service." Pippa, as you called her, had always had a way with people and she was next to Fran and Pete the only one of your bosses you could be yourself with and even call family away from your own. In your former jobs you had only been the one for the make-up, the one being ordered around and not even been able to give an opinion to change should something not look right on the person. But here, you were part of the crew and they would listen to you.

"It's nice to meet you." You said, holding out your hand for the actor to shake. With a smile in return he grabbed it and you had to concentrate not to let your reaction show on your face. Holy shit, his hands were huge compared to your smaller ones.

Only your boss's voice pulled you back to the task at hand. "So, Lee needs to get into his wig and ears and we'd like to try the crowns with the wardrobe department. Let's say meeting in an hour and a half over at costumes?"

"Oh, uh, sure." you mumbled, hastily disentangling your hand from his. "I'll send him right over when I'm done."

Pippa grinned at you. "Why don't you come over, too? We wouldn't want there to be a repeat of Elrond's circlet like the last time."

A soft sigh escaped your lips, nodding your head you stepped up onto the small stairs outside the trailer. "I'll bring him over then and make sure the wig will be in one piece once you guys are done."

"Great, I'll see you guys later!" she said, clapping her hands and walking off, leaving you with the giant in human form standing in front of you.

Once he made sure she was out of ear shot, Lee turned back to you, a smile plastered onto his face. "Do I want to know what happened to that wig?"

"I don't think you want to know, it was a mess and the guys making the wigs were so angry because the circlet Hugo was wearing in the fitting got caught on the strands and ripped it in half. They had to do it all over again."

Nodding his head, the actor entered the trailer behind her. You told him to take the empty chair next to Richard, who was getting ready for his scenes and he took the time to watch you flit around in your workplace. Everything was chaotic and still in order all the same. When you had come back to your place, the prosthetic ears and wig in hand, Lee grinned at you, his dark blue eyes shining with mirth. "Well, we wouldn't want another repeat for the King of Woodland Elves."

"At least you're already in character, then." Richard mumbled next to him with a laugh trying not to interrupt the woman doing his make-up for the day, listening to the words leaving his co-stars mouth.

Watching the actor, who was Thorin in the movie series, he laughed. "I just need to get my crown and wardrobe and I'll be good to go, everything else is already perfect."

Ruckus laughter floated through the trailer and you couldn't help but admire the shape of his face. Before you could stop yourself, you had already mumbled a 'yes, perfect' and Lee's eyes turned back to you. You felt the blush creeping over your face, swiftly grabbing a comb and a few clips to prepare his own hair for the wig cap you were going to be putting on under. All had seen the flush spread out on your skin and Martin who was getting up from his chair next to you send you wink. That was a great way to make a first impression on the day of meeting a new part of the movie series. You were scolding yourself inside, making sure to only talk to Lee when he was asking something, otherwise keeping your mouth shut.

"Okay let's see the green coat again with the silver overcoat. Y/N, be a dear and bring me that one please." Ann Maskrey, one of the costume designers asked you, while Pete and Pippa watched Lee getting dressed in the green coat. You walked over to the wardrobe and took the first silver coat. "No, not that one, the one with the deep orange silk on the inside." So you took the correct one on the second try and held it out for Lee to put on. He grinned down at you, pulling the coat over his shoulders and straightening himself. It would be easier if he wasn't such a giant, but he was a handsome giant.

"Right then, that looks good. Let's try it with the smaller branch crown."

You sighed, hoping there wasn't going to be another wig fiasco when you helped putting the crown on. Weta had done an amazing job designing all the pieces for the movies, for all movies they worked on, but sometimes these things were a bitch to work with. Your comb and pins at the ready, he sat down on the chair, pulling the knee-high boots on over the leggings he wore underneath.

"I'm going to be gentle but if I should hurt you with the pin please let me know." you told him, lightly pinning the crown to the wig so it wouldn't fall off.

Lee had closed his eyes, hiding the bright blue contacts he wore for his role. "I can take my fair bit of pain, but if it's intolerable, I'll let you know. So far I can't complain about these gentle hands."

By the time they had taken pictures and you had finally calmed down again so the flush that had started to spread over your face and neck at the close proximity to Lee was controlled again, Ann had asked you to take off one crown and exchange it for the larger branch crown with red leaves.

"I think this is going to be a lot more striking for King Thranduil then the other one."

So you repeated the process, gently combing the wig while Lee sat on the chair, chewing his gum and closing his eyes. He even held the hairpins in his hand because he saw you struggle to get them out of the confines of your little bag. When he moved it closer to you to work with your finger touched his and if you didn't know better there was a tiny spark from that brush of skin.

Finishing up, you grabbed the unused pins from his hand and told him you were done, giving the tall actor a light tap on his shoulder. Just as he walked over to the small area where they viewed him in his costumes, the door opened and Martin and James walked inside.

"Sorry, you guys but we had a small, unfortunate accident." the Irish actor apologized, showing the burst seams on his pants. "We were doing our stunts and well."

Martin grinned, walking over to you and throwing his arm around your shoulders. "We also wanted to see what all the fuss was about that haughty elf king."

Giggling, you looked over at Lee who grinned at his co-stars and repeated the walk he did before.

"Just so you know, if I were a female dwarf, I'd tap that elf ass." James whispered into your left ear, your once controlled blush intensifying again while the blond actor nodded his head enthusiastically.

"He's a perfect elf, you know. Broad shoulder, tall, elegant, striking eyes. The hair." Martin spoke so only you and the dwarf actor could hear.

"The long legs." James added, nodding his head over to the American actor who strutted along the area, having thrown off the overcoat.

"That smouldering look." the Brit continued before you held up your hands.

"Enough, you." You hissed so no one would know what you had been talking about, but you knew they were only trying to rile you up. Yes, Lee was attractive, hell, he was gorgeous and Pippa and Pete did an amazing job casting him, but you knew him for less than a day. He could be a total asshole when he didn't have people to impress for his first day on set. "You guys should get to Lucy or Sam so they can stitch up those holes."

"Well, I'm going to tell you this, one day you'll end up with a guy like that and you'll remember what I told you. You deserve the best in your life, luv." James told you proudly, pulling you closer into a one armed hug. He was brother and father to you in one person and you knew that his words were going to bite you in your ass.

They always did.

Taglist(I wasn't sure who to tag, also who might want to read it, so please let me know if you don't want to see mor of this in your notifications)

@fortheloveoffanfic @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @omg-imagine @fanficsrusz @eevee-of-rivia @fics-not-tragedies @omgkatinka @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @axshadows​ @a-really-bi-girl @madbaddic7ed @maggiemoo1892 @pinkzsugar @agniavateira @mary-ann84 and everyone who might want to read this.

[managedmischiefs]

sweatpants//spencer reid

genre: fluff

warnings: nothing really. sad spencer for about two seconds.

word count: 2.7k

i have plenty more one shots on my wattpad so let me know if any of you want to see more of this type of writing :) make sure to reblog and comment :))

i fell in love with spencer reid the moment i met him. i fell in love with absolutely everything about him. his smile lit up the little bookstore as his glasses drifted further and further down his nose, and his hair hung over his forehead in messy, unbrushed curls. from the first time we locked eyes after he got a book down from the top shelf for me, i envisioned our whole future together.

we saw each other casually after our first meeting despite how badly i wanted more. we quickly realized that we frequented the little bookstore at the same time on saturdays and we just began to "accidentally" run into each other over and over at the same exact day and time. of course, i made sure to be there every saturday for the next three months just for the chance of seeing him.

i finally got the balls to ask him out after the fifth month of these meetups. he seems surprised and he blushed, then tugged on his tie to loosen it around his neck. he accepted quickly and we went bowling the next week. we were both horrible and eventually asked to put the bumpers up because the amount of gutter balls we were throwing were astronomical. but that "first" date was the first time i noticed something very important about spencer reid.

he wears a variation of the same outfit every single day, no matter what he's doing.

sweater vests, button ups, slacks, ties, and converse. sometimes a cardigan. these items get mixed and matched everyday and sometimes don't match, but the chaos of his outfit colors just suits him. and it suits his penchant for wearing mismatched socks. but i continued to realize more and more about his wardrobe as we spent more time together.

if we went out: slacks, button up, tie, converse.

if we had dinner at his apartment: slacks, button up, sweater vest, tie, converse.

if we cuddle on the couch: pajamas.

there's no in-between with him and it took me a while to decide if i loved this or thought it was odd. i landed somewhere in the middle. he would sometimes start to squirm in the middle of dinner and go to change into pajamas to be more comfortable.

i never commented on this because i knew he liked the way he dressed and i didn't want him to think i hated it. he's already an insecure person, despite me loving him with my whole heart and soul, and i'd feel so horrible if i added onto that. so i would sit through the squirming and the tie-tugging and the quick unlacing of shoes after a long day of converse wearing. i grinned and gave him lots of kisses because i love him regardless of his fashion choices. or lack there of.

but spencer continues to grow and thankfully, i grow with him. i start a new job and spencer continues to thrive at the bau. i move into his apartment and he decides that this is the perfect time for a change. a new haircut. super short on the sides and long on the top. i nearly keeled when i saw how utterly handsome he was with his new haircut. i jumped his bones immediately.

but the sweater vests and same brown cardigan didn't quite hit the spot anymore. i would find spencer standing in front of the mirror before work, silently wondering if the black or brown cardigan would look better with his gray sweater vest. still, it was endearing but eventually it becomes too much.

i pass a department store everyday on my way home from work and it started to pique my interest. one day when i got off work early and knew spencer wouldn't be home, i stopped off. the store was huge and had a humongous selection of styles and brands to choose from. i knew i had to bring spencer.

when i told him i wanted to take him shopping, he tilted his head in confusion like an adorable puppy. "what do you need? new sweaters? it is almost winter and i know you got rid of most of your winter clothes when the summer came. did you—"

"no, honey," i laughed, silencing his confused, off-topic rant. "i'm taking you shopping. for you."

another head tilt. "for me? i don't need anything."

"i know you don't need anything," i clarified, running my hands through his freshly cut hair, "but i want to treat you. and besides, i think you've outgrown some of your wardrobe and it's time to get some new items."

so that leaves us now, walking hand in hand into the department store. he's holding me tighter than usual as i lead him to the men's section, but i don't complain. i know he gets nervous in public places and i have no problem with a bit of coddling.

"so, i was thinking," i say as i flip through a rack of undershirts, "you could get some new dress pants. maybe a pair of jeans. maybe some blazers or just suit jackets. that way your style can grow but you can also wear your trusty button ups and ties underneath."

spencer pouts. "i like it better when we shop for you."

i stifle a laugh as i find an appealing gray blazer and search for spencer's size. "and why's that, bub?"

"because then you get to pick out cute clothes and i can watch you try them on."

"well, this time, i'll get to watch you try them on," i wink and hand the blazer over to him. "hold that. please and thank you."

spencer huffs and drops my hand so he can hold the hanger of the blazer. i continue walking through the racks and in my peripherals, i can see spencer glancing around the store and at the racks surrounding us. he follows behind me like a lost puppy, the amount of items in his hands growing as i pass every rack.

"how would you feel about," i pick out a set of matching maroon pants and a maroon blazer, "this color?" i told it up to spencer's chest. he looks down at the garment and scrunches up his nose. "no? that's okay. i think navy's suit you better anyway. no pun intended."

"babe?" he wonders softly as i move over to a rack of ties. "why are you doing this?"

"doing what?" i pick up a tie that is blue with pink flamingoes on it and drape it over his shoulder.

"taking me shopping. wanting to redo my wardrobe or something."

"well," a new tie on his shoulder- a yellow base with blue whales, "you have had the same wardrobe since i met you, and that was many years ago. you've grown up, spencer. maybe some new clothes could reflect that."

i watch a pout come to his face and his shoulders deflate. "you don't like the way i dress?"

i pout right back at him, trying to not seem so mocking in my expression. "i love the way you dress. but i think it might be time to replace that same brown sweater vest you've had since college. that's what i'm talking about. we don't have to do this if you don't want. we can go home."

spencer thinks for a second. he adjusts his hold on the handful of blazers and trousers in his arms and takes another glance at them. "i'll give these a try."

the pride swells in my chest and nearly bursts out. it's no secret that spencer hates change. he would rather his life stays exactly the same all the time. meals, furniture arrangement, train schedule, his wardrobe. clearly, he would rather wear the same clothes for the rest of his life than branch out a bit. so him agreeing to do just that nearly makes me cry right in the middle of the department store.

we push on and spencer continues to trail behind me and hold the clothes i pick. once his knees are practically buckling under the weight of the chosen clothes, i agree to let him start part two. the fitting room.

he disappears into a room and i sit across from the door in a fluffy armchair that probably has more germs on it than a public bathroom. okay, maybe that's just dramatic. but it has enough germs that i'm sure spencer would refuse to sit here, or maybe even get grossed out that i'm sitting on it.

"uh," i hear my boyfriends voice from behind the door, "i think i did it."

i hold in my giggle. "you think?"

"i mean, i put together an outfit. don't know if it's any good. it's definitely not as good as the things you put together."

"just let me see."

the door pops open and my jaw nearly hits the floor. my spencer is standing there in navy slacks, a navy blazer, a vest, button up, and a tie. he looks exactly like i expected him too. my same loving, quiet, genius boyfriend but much older and mature. he looks phenomenal.

but spencer scrunches up his nose and turns on his toes to look in the full length mirror. "i feel like all of this is too busy. there's too much happening."

"no, baby, not at all," i come up behind him and slide my hands across his back and then around his waist. "it's such a good look on you. it's spencer reid but as an adult."

he furrows his eyebrows and looks at me through the mirror. "are you implying i dressed like a child before?"

"no, no, not at all," i nudge his waist and he spins back to me. "it's a perfect outfit. you put it together perfectly. the colors, the different pieces."

spencer's face lights up as he watches me adjust the lapel of his jacket. "really?"

"yes!" i smooth down the shoulders and then tug on the cuff links. "it's perfectly your style. you don't think so?"

"mm," he looks back down at his own body and shakes out his arms a little. "i guess it is. it's just...different."

"it is different but it's a good different. you're still the same old genius who could go on for hours about mushrooms or doctor who or whatever. so you," i pat his shoulder and go up on my toes to kiss his cheek, "get into a new outfit and show me again, okay?"

spencer agrees and closes the fitting room door. we stay at the store for nearly two hours, picking out and trying on potential outfits. spencer even starts picking items on his own, but he comes to me in the cutest way to ask if i like the things he's picked out. i always do. and even if it's not my favorite piece, he obviously likes it so i tell him i love it.

we spend hundreds and split the bill. i insisted i pay because i was the one who brought him here, but he insisted he pay because the clothes are for him. we found a happy medium.

i don't know what i thought was going to happen after we basically replaced his wardrobe. apparently, i didn't think about what the next work day would be like. because i wake up before spencer and go to make breakfast and only listen to him shower and get dressed.

"good morning!" spencer chirps, practically skipping into the kitchen.

"morning!" i say back, putting pancakes on a plate for him. "here's your—" and i absolutely freeze in my spot at the sight of him in a dark tan jacket and slacks, a purple button up, and a matching gray tie. his hair is perfectly swooped across his forehead and he's grinning, practically glowing in his new outfit. "holy shit."

"you like it?" he holds up his arms a bit as if to gesture to his appearance.

i just stand and stare at him for another minute, clutching the plate in my hand so tightly that i fear i might break it. but spencer chuckles, taking it from me and placing it in front of the chair he always has breakfast in.

"i might not let you out of the house looking this good," i finally manage to say. "you'll come home with a new girl on your arm and forget all about me."

spencer pouts. "i'd never do that to you."

i grab onto his cheeks and lay a huge kiss on his lips. "i know you wouldn't. you look amazing, spence. even better than yesterday."

spencer comes home that night and beams about the compliments he got from his coworkers today and thanks me for encouraging him to expand his wardrobe. i don't accept his thanks because i'm just happy to see him feeling more confident in himself than ever.

however, my job is not done yet.

as much as he loves his new clothes, i give him a few weeks to adjust to his new normal. i let him get used to needing a few extra minutes in the morning to arrange an outfit and to the washing process before i spring something new on him. but once i can tell he's completely comfortable with his new wardrobe, i stop at the department store after work again.

"spence?" i call into the apartment as i kick my shoes off, clutching the paper bag in my hand.

"hi!" he calls back, emerging from the study with a book in his hand. "you're late."

i hold up the bag for proof. "i stopped at the store again." spencer follows me into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed in anticipation. "well, first, i saw a couple more ties that i liked," i take those out of the bag and throw them over his shoulder. "but i got these!"

i pull out three perfectly folded pairs of sweatpants and four plain colored tee shirts. spencer unravels each item and then looks up with his eyebrows furrowed. "i don't get it."

"okay," i giggle, placing my hands on his shoulders, "when i go to work, i wear my skirts and blouses and heels, right?"

like the puppy he is, he tilts his head to the side in confusion. "right."

"and when i got to sleep, i wear pajamas. but between the blouse and the pajamas, i wear sweats. you, my love," i boop his nose and instantly, an adorable pink hue paints his cheeks, "don't own sweats. you go from suits to pajamas. and again, i'm not saying that i don't love the way you dress. i'm just looking out for your comfort. if you hate them, i'll return them. simple as that."

he runs his hands over the tee shirts and runs it between his fingers. "they are really soft."

"i got the ones that are 100% cotton because i know you like how it feels."

"i'll try it," he concedes, smiling up at me. "thank you. you're too good to me."

"you deserve the world, angel face."

the next day, he gets called away for a case and i don't see him for almost two weeks. we call and text as much as possible, but we both get so busy that it's nearly impossible. so i stick to sending him good morning and goodnight texts and praying that he comes home in one piece.

after nearly two and a half weeks without him, i come home and see his car in the parking garage where it always is. i squeal, running all the way to the apartment and bursting through the door.

spencer is lounging on the couch, thankfully in one piece, and reading a book, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt. he looks up and grins when i enter, standing up and pulling me into his arms.

"i can't believe you're sitting here," i mumble into his neck, "and looking so good when i'm not around."

spencer laughs into my shoulder, kissing my small bit of exposed skin. "well, you're here now so you can enjoy it."

"you look so fucking hot," i blurt out, grabbing a handful of his cotton shirt and tugging him towards the bedroom. "let me show you just how hot i think you are."

"god, i love this new wardrobe."

[discoscoob]

Partners in Crime | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

You go undercover and infiltrate the TVA in an attempt to rescue Loki from the shady organisation.

Part Nine | Part Eleven | Chapter Index

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: descriptions of Loki’s death in Infinity War

Read on AO3

You had ran back into the TARDIS and straight to the wardrobes, you dressed in a formal black work suit with a white blouse and a pair of black court shoes, a far cry from your usual style but since you had decided you were going undercover you thought you might as well look the part. You had covered the scrapes you acquired on your jaw and cheekbones during the battle of New York with some concealer and applied some light makeup to complete the look.

 You straightened out your suit jacket and checked your hair was neat enough by gently patting it with your palms to feel for flyaways, as you made your way back into the deserted control room. Your eyes landed on the Doctors jacket, as you passed it, noticing it was still discarded on the seats, since the Doctor hadn’t took it with him when he left.

 Despite already knowing the control room was empty, you glanced around just to be sure before you fished into the inside pocket of the suit jacket and felt around for the wallet containing the psychic paper. While you were feeling around you felt your fingers brush against the sonic screwdriver, you decided it might be useful so you pulled it out and slotted it into your own pocket before you returned to hunting for the psychic paper.

 You discovered that the Doctor wasn’t kidding when he said his pockets were bigger on the inside, you dragged out a yo-yo, a pair of retro 3D glasses, the yellow water pistol you used in Pompeii and a stethoscope before you finally managed to find the wallet containing the psychic paper. You discarded all the random objects on the seats along with the jacket before you turned on your heel and made your way out of the TARDIS.

 While you were in the unlit room the TARDIS had landed in, you blindly felt around for a light switch, until you remembered you had the sonic screwdriver, you used the small blue light on the end of it as a torch, it wasn’t very effective but it provided some visibility and from what you could see, you were in a maintenance closet.

 After slipping the sonic back into your pocket, you carefully pushed the door handle down and slowly cracked the door open and peaked out of it with one eye, exactly like you had done earlier. This time you were looking along the ceiling for any visible security cameras, from your position you could not see any.

 The corridor was once again deserted, so you proceeded to pull the door open wider and poked your head out to look both left and right. The decor was dated with an orange and brown patterned carpet which you might have found in a cheap hotel in the 70s and the walls were painted a creamy coffee colour.

 Swiftly you slipped out of the maintenance closet and gently pulled the door shut behind you, while still vigilantly looking up and down the abandoned corridor, now you had to decide which direction to go.

 To your right you were closer to the end of the hallway where there was a set of mahogany double doors with frosted glass panels, while to your left, the end of the corridor split off into two other separate corridors, after weighing up your options you decided to head towards the double doors. 

 The room you entered was spacious and well lit by large round lights that covered the entire ceiling. In the centre of the room there were retractable line divider belts in place which lead to a glass incased service desk, where you could see a bored worker was slouched in their seat. You took a deep breath and straightened your spine before you began to walk through the winding barriers towards the desk.

 Once you arrived you looked down upon the chubby, middle aged man who had not yet acknowledged your presence as he hunched over the desk, reading a colourful comic that was spread out on the surface in front of him. Your eyes nervously travelled around the room again as you double checked no one else was there before you hit the shiny, gold coated service bell with the palm of your hand.

 “Have you had your consultation with Miss Minutes?” The guard, who wore a name tag which informed you he was called Edgar, idly addressed you without looking up from his desk.

 “What?” You asked, already beginning to feel your nerves spike.

 “Every prisoner must have a consolation with Miss Minutes before standing trial for their alleged crimes.” Edgar explained, as if he was reading from a script.

 “Oh... I- I’m not a prisoner.” You nervously laughed, you were here to break Loki out, not get yourself arrested too.

 The guard finally lifted his eyes to you and took in your appearance and formal attire, you pulled the psychic paper from your pocket and held it against the glass, willing it to show him something that will grant you access to the prisoners.

 “You’re a psychiatrist?” Edgar questioned, appearing dumbfounded.

 “Yes.” You nodded confidently, as you returned the wallet to your breast pocket, “I am here to evaluate one of your prisoners.”

 “You’re in the wrong department.” He informed you as his eyes cast back down to his comic, you waited for him to tell you where to go, but he remained silent.

 “Which department do I need to go to?” You prompted him.

 “The prisoner department.” 

 Another pause. You rolled your eyes.

 “And where is that?” You tried to remain patient but getting information out of this man was like pulling teeth, you could feel the frustration building in your chest.

 “Down the corridor, to the left, take the elevator to floor VG2.” You were already making your way back through the winding line dividers by the time he was halfway through his sentence, you would have ran if you weren’t meant to maintain a professional cover, alas, you were confined to speed walking.

 As quickly as you could, you made your way down the carpeted corridor and turned left until you arrived to a pair of elevators with metallic gold doors. You pushed the black round button on a panel between the two elevators to call for one. You tapped your foot as you impatiently waited with your hands clasped in front of you. 

 The ding prompted you to lift your head just as the elevator doors began to slide open, your whole body halted to a stop mid stride as your eyes locked with a pair of familiar frosty green ones, which stared right back at you, holding just as much surprise. 

 You and Loki were completely frozen as the pair of you did nothing but stare at each other for a solid moment, which felt much longer than it actually was. You took in his appearance, the bulky collar he was wearing around his neck along with a loose fitting, beige jumpsuit which had an orange TVA logo printed on the left side of the chest. 

 Loki was the first to break contact as his eyes fleeted with panic to Mobius, who was stood next to him, but luckily he hadn’t noticed you as his attention was focused on studying a brown paper file which he held open in the palm of his hand.

 Quickly you jumped out of view and pushed your back flush to the wall between the two elevators before you heard Mobius tut with a sigh.

 “Don’t you just hate when the elevator stops on a floor and no one is there?” You heard Mobius say, there was no response from Loki before the doors slid back shut. 

 You rolled back off the wall with a sigh of relief and put your hand over your racing heart to calm it after almost getting caught. You looked up and followed the floor numbers above the elevator as they lit up, indicating which floor it was at, until it stopped in order to find out which floor Loki was being taken to and memorised it as you pushed the button to call another elevator. The doors to the other one opened and you stepped in and selected the floor which Loki was taken to. 

 With a ding the doors parted to reveal a concrete corridor, much different to the one you were on earlier. It was filled with people dressed in uniforms, some in plain brown suits and others dressed head to toe in black combat armour carrying weapons, you were wary of those ones. Your heels clicked against the hard floor and the sound echoed off the walls as you slowly made your way further down the winding corridor. You tried to not appear too inconspicuous as your eyes shifted around in search of a familiar face.

 You passed several dark wooden doors, any of which Loki and Mobius could have disappeared behind and you would have no idea, it wasn’t like you could go searching behind each individual one without drawing attention to yourself. 

 “Excuse me, are you lost?” A petite woman with a friendly disposition approached you, obviously having noticed the way you were aimlessly wandering without any direction. She had warm eyes and showcased her pearly white teeth with her plump glossy lips stretched into a kind smile. You instantly felt comfortable in her presence, so you were confident enough to be somewhat honest with her.

 “Yes actually, I’m looking for Mobius and I can’t seem to find him.” 

 Her eyes widened with delight at the fact that she knew exactly where he was and could help you as she pointed to a pair of double doors a few paces behind her. “I saw him go in there with one of the prisoners not too long ago.” 

 Your eyes shifted to the double doors and you noticed there was two security guards stood in front before you looked back at the friendly woman in front of you, “thank you,” you smiled.

 “No problem at all.” She told you as she began to make her way towards the elevator.

 Once she was gone, you searched for a corner to hide behind which also gave you a perfect view of the double doors as you waited for Loki and Mobius to come out. 

 A few minutes passed before you saw the door open and Mobius stepped out without Loki, you watched him disappear down the corridor before you rushed to the double doors, you were quickly halted by the security in front but you maintained a calm exterior as you reached into your pocket and showed them the psychic paper, they studied it for a moment as your heart raced with nerves, before one of them grunted with a nod and granted you access. 

 You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding after you shut the door, with your back turned to the room you just entered.

 Heat flourished through your stomach at the sound of Loki’s voice saying you name, as a smile curled at the corners of your lips before you turned around to see him.

 In the dimly lit room, Loki was rising from his seat, his face was illuminated by a holographic projection that was playing against the wall furthest from you, as he began taking quick strides towards you.

 Before you could even say anything, you felt his palms rest on both your cheeks as he pulled your face towards his own and greeted you with a hungry kiss.

 “If I might interject.” Loki’s voice filled the room and interrupted your kiss, as you pulled your lips away from his and glanced over his shoulder at the projection, which displayed footage of Loki.

 “What is that?” You asked him as your eyes bounced between his face and the projection.

 “Never mind that,” Loki shook his head dismissively and grasped your hands in his. “I can’t believe you’re here, you’re alive.” Loki once again gently grasped your face in one of his hand as he stroked his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

 “Thanks to you. You saved my life.” You smiled gratefully at him as you brought your own hand up to rest on the back of his but he retracted it just as you did and you pinched your brows together with confusion.

 “No thanks to me,” Loki corrected you as he shook his head and took a step back from you, “I am the reason you got hurt in the first place.”

 “Loki, it wasn’t your fault...”

 “It was. It was me. I am the one who shot at you.” Loki admitted and you remained silent as you let the information sink in.

 “Almighty Thanos... I, Loki, Prince of Asgard... Odinson... the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.” The projection once again caught your attention.

 “Thanos...” Your eyes drifted back to Loki, “when is this from?” 

 “It... it’s...” Loki tried, but your focus shifted back to the projection as a deep voice filled the room through the speakers.

 “Undying? You should choose your words more carefully.” You realised the new voice belonged to Thanos, who was now displayed on the projection, his larger frame dwarfed Loki’s, proving just how intimidating he was. 

 Loki had his arm extended above his head as he clenched a dagger in his fist and held the tip to Thanos’ throat, but the mighty titan encircled Loki’s arm with his large hand, making it appear no larger than a twig, he twisted his arm and the dagger fell from his palm as he raised his other hand to Loki’s throat.

 Your face paled and stone cold horror surged through your thumping heart as Thanos began to lift Loki off the ground, causing his body to thrash around violently as he tried to struggle free from the deadly grasp.

 “He... he’s killing you.” Your voice trembled as you watched helplessly, you turned you face away when it became too difficult to keep watching, wishing you could also close your ears to the unsettling noises that filled the room.

 “You... will never be... a god.” Was the last thing you heard Loki say through the speakers before you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of a door slamming shut with such force it overpowered the noises from the speakers.

 You turned around to find Mobius with his back to the doors, a curious smile played on his lips as his eyes shot back and forth between you and Loki. You instantly stepped back towards Loki and encircled your arms around his and pulled him closer to you, keeping him in an unyielding hold. 

 “So I’m assuming this is some sort of rescue mission slash prison escape?” Mobius casually spoke as he began to walk further into the room. 

 You and Loki shuffled back together, ensuring you maintained the same amount of distance from him as he moved around the sparsely furnished room. 

 “Something like that.” You mumbled with your chin held high in defiance but Mobius appeared unfazed as his eyes fell to Loki.

 “I’m afraid he won’t get very far wearing that.” The agent brought his finger up to point at his own neck in order to demonstrate that he was talking about the collar, which was secured around Loki’s neck, you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head curiously.

 “Then, I guess, it’s a good job I brought this with me, isn’t it?” You smiled, knowing you had the upper hand as you pulled the Doctors sonic screwdriver from your pocket and held it in front of you.

 Loki’s own lips lifted into a triumphant smirk once he realised what you had held in your hand. You pointed the blue glowing tip to the electronic latch of his collar, a low-pitched buzzing emitted from the sonic before you heard the latch click open and with a quick shake of his head, the collar easily slipped from Loki’s neck and landed on the floor at his feet.

 “Ah, shit.” Mobius sighed under his breath, with his gaze focused on the discarded collar.

 “This is nothing personal.” Loki told him as he raised his palm, Mobius hardly had time to react before green mist was shot in his direction, his legs gave way beneath him as he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

 “Is he dead?” You worried as you took a couple steps towards Mobius’ body.

 “No, he’s just sleeping.” Loki assured you as he conjured some rope out of a shimmering green light and he strode towards Mobius.

 “This will buy us some more time.” Loki told you as he pushed Mobius’ limp body on to his front and began tying his wrists together behind his back, before he tied his ankles together. 

 You watched wordlessly until Loki rose back to his feet then walked towards you, he clasped you by your shoulders and looked down at you intensely.

 “I have a plan.” He told you.

 “Loki, what was that projection?” You worried, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t wipe the horrific images from your mind.

 His eyes cast down and he stroked his hand up and down your upper arm to offer you comfort, “It’s a lot to explain, but right now we need to get out of here and I need you to do something for me.”

 “Anything.” You said without hesitation.

 ***

 “Oh my god...” Your hand shot to your throat, “why hasn’t my voice changed? I still sound like me.” 

 You were currently looking into a handheld mirror, which Loki had conjured for you, getting used to the fact that the face staring back at you wasn’t your own. You ran the tips of your fingers over the facial hair above your lip and gently pulled it between your forefinger and thumb. 

 Loki had transformed you into a double of Mobius, as a green shimmer ran down the length of his body and he changed from the prison jumpsuit into the same TVA uniform he had been wearing when you first met him in Pompeii.

 “I can’t change your voice, you will have to refrain from speaking to anyone. We just need to get out of here and back to the TARDIS. It should be easy enough.” Loki explained as he fixed the collar of his jacket before he crouched beside Mobius and riffled through his pockets until you heard the jingling of keys. Loki threw them over his shoulder at you and you managed to catch them as you cradled your hands together with your palms open and the keys landed right in the middle.

 “We will lock the door behind us,” Loki explained and you nodded as he approached you. 

 “I don’t deserve any of this after what I did to you...” He saw you open your mouth to cut him off so he rushed to continue, “when the elevator doors opened and I saw your face, I thought it was a figment of my imagination... When the TVA captured me, I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again or if I would ever find out whether or not you made it out of New York alive. I have lived with the weight of my actions on my shoulders, ever since the mind stones influenced faded but I have never felt anything even close to how I felt when I saw your injuries and I knew I was the one responsible for them. I will do whatever it takes to gain your forgiveness.” 

 “Do you really think I would be here, looking like this,” you gestured to your form disguised as Mobius, “if I hadn’t already forgiven you? You weren’t fully in control of your actions on that day but you were fully in control when you saved my life, despite knowing that using your magic would attract the TVA’s attention, you put yourself at risk to save me and now I’m doing the same for you.” 

 A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Loki’s lips before you took his hand in your own, “now let’s go before he wakes up and alerts everyone that you’ve escaped.”

 You let go of his hand just as your other reached for the handle of the door and you lead the way out with Loki following behind you. You acknowledged the two guards on either side of the door with a silent nod as you looked at the keys on the keyring and realised you didn’t know which one fit the lock on this door.

 You glanced at Loki for help, hoping your wide and confused eyes were enough to make him understand your predicament since you couldn’t use your voice. Loki subtly raised his finger to point at the key you needed and you quickly locked the door, before you made your way down the winding concrete hallway, towards the golden doors of the elevators.

 Your heart was already leaping out your chest after your blunder with the keys, but apart from a few nervous glances towards Loki, no one really paid the pair of you any attention and you were relieved to see that the plan was working.

 The familiar ding alerted you to the fact that the doors were about to slide open. When you saw a curly haired woman, dressed in a brown suit decorated with an orange sash, exiting the elevator, you stepped aside and offered her a polite smile, with the intention of letting her pass by, but she stopped in front of you and Loki and stared at the pair of you with suspicion. 

 The polite smile faded from your face, as your pulse once again began to quicken under her scrutinising gaze, you chanced a glance towards Loki in an attempt to gage how he was handling the situation, your inner panic spiked when you noticed the worry hidden in his eyes as they bounced between you and the woman stood before you.

 “Agent Mobius, where are you taking the Loki variant?” She questioned you. 

 You focused hard on trying to maintain a calm exterior while you were internally experiencing a meltdown as panic rose through your chest and your mind raced with the millions of possibilities for how this could go wrong, since there was no way you could answer her, you had no idea how to get yourself and Loki out of this situation.

 “I have decided join your little club and help protect the sacred timeline, Mobius and I are about to head out on a mission.” Loki answered for you and you sent him a grateful look, once the woman turned her attention to him.

 “Mobius, you know variants aren’t allowed out on missions without my clearance.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sent you a disapproving look.

 “You already gave me clearance.” Loki answered and the woman rolled her eyes before turning to him again.

 “That was the first time and you ended up running away with a genocidal Time Lord.” 

 “The Doctor?” A confused crease formed between Loki’s dark brows.

 “He destroyed the Time Lords.” She said, the tone she used made it seem as though her answer should’ve been obvious.

 “Well, if they were anything like you, I can’t say I blame him.” You had to bring your fingers to your lips to stifle your laughter.

 “Mobius!” You jumped at the sound of ‘your’ name and stood straight as you looked to the authoritative woman before you. “Wait for me in my office, while I return your variant to his cell.” 

 Your internal meltdown only worsened and you glanced at Loki again hoping he would offer you some sort of sign that he had a plan, his eyes were twitching back and forth as he stared at nothing in particular, you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he raced to come up with a plan. When the woman’s gaze flicked over to him, all evidence of his plotting was wiped from his face and his lips stretched into a sly smile.

 “Lead the way, Your Honour.” Loki hit the button to call the elevator, since it had already arrived earlier the doors slid open instantly. He held his hand out and offered the woman to enter the lift first, as she did Loki glanced at you and subtly nodded his head towards the corridor, directing you to follow that direction.

 Trusting that Loki knew what he was doing, you began to back away until you turned around and started walking down the corridor. You didn’t let the fact that Loki called her ‘Your Honour’ go unnoticed, you realised that was Loki’s subtle way of telling you who she was so you would be able to find her office. As you walked down the corridor you glanced at the engraved gold plaques above each door, until you stopped in front of one which read ‘Judge Ravonna Renslayer’ before you proceeded to enter.

 Inside, the office was dimly lit and lacked any windows, you realised that you hadn’t seen any windows throughout the entire building and it only added to the mysteriousness of the entire organisation. The walls were made off sculpted dark wooden panels and the floor was covered in an orange and brown carpet, similar to the one which decorated the corridors upstairs. 

 A single stained glass lamp, which stood on the large wooden desk in the centre of the room, was the only source of light. Behind the desk was a large, red leather chair and in front of it were two smaller brown leather seats. The surface of the desk was kept neat, a stack of files perfectly piled on top of one another sat in the centre, apart from those and the lamp there wasn’t much else on it. 

 On the far back wall, behind the desk, to the left and right there were two book shelves neatly filled with large leather bound books of various colours. Between the two book shelves, there was a wall, decorated with the wooden sculptures of three heads, you found them rather ghastly to look at so you diverted your eyes back to the surface of the desk as you lowered yourself into one of the seats in front of it and waited.

 The only sound that filled the room was the constant ticking of a clock as each second passed and you were beginning to find the repetitive sound irritating, your leg bounced up and down with nerves, as you hoped with all your strength that Loki knew what he was doing. You had no idea what you were going to do if Judge Ravonna Renslayer walked through that door and expected you to speak with her.

 You glanced over your shoulder when you heard the sound of the door click open, hoping you would be greeted by the sight of Loki, but your heart dropped and an array of colourful language raced through your mind when the Judge entered the room instead.

 “Agent Mobius.” She formally greeted you and you stood from your seat and offered her your hand to shake as a form of greeting, since speaking would blow your cover, although you doubted you would be able to last long without saying anything.

 The Judge just stared at your hand for a moment, with confusion behind her eyes, before she swatted it away and stepped closer to you almost making you jump when her arms slid around the back of your neck and she brought her face inches away from yours.

 “No need to be so formal when we’re in private, Moby.” Her breath fanned across your lips, as she whispered seductively and you could hardly control the way your eyebrows shot up to your hairline as you gulped, completely thrown off guard by the unexpected turn of events.

 Your mouth moved like a fish out of water and you didn’t know where to put your hands, but when she let out a snort of laughter and took a step back, you tilted your head with suspicion. A green shimmer illuminated the dull room and Loki was stood before you, still laughing to himself but at least now he was looking sheepish about it, as you glared at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

 “I’m sorry, that was cruel,” he held his hands up defensively, “but your face... or rather Mobius’” 

 “Now is not the time for games.” You scolded him as you swatted at his chest. 

 “There is always time for games.” Loki answered defensively and you affectionately rolled your eyes.

 “What did you do with her?” You asked, curious about how Loki safely escaped from the Judge.

 “Transformed her into me and put her in my cell before I shifted into her form.” Loki shrugged like it was nothing.

 “Will she look like you forever?” You worried.

 Loki shook his head. “Once we leave, my magic will leave her.”

 “Let’s get out of here.” You said and Loki shifted back into the Judges form as you made your way out of her office. 

 This time you successfully made it to the elevator and to the floor that you had left the TARDIS on without any interruptions. You lead Loki down the deserted corridor towards the maintenance closet, just as an alarm started blaring throughout the entire building.

 “Do you think that’s for us?” You looked at Loki with worry.

 “We’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.” Loki answered as he grabbed your hand and started running the rest of the way to the closet.

 “Stop them!” A guard dressed in black armour shouted as they burst through the double doors at the end of the corridor, leading a group of other guards behind them. 

 “I guess that answers your question.” Loki mumbled as the pair of you ducked when they began shooting their weapons at you, Loki moved to ensure that he was shielding you as he reached for the handle to the closet and ushered you through the door once he opened it.

 You pushed through the TARDIS doors, with Loki hot on your heel, relieved to be in the familiar control room but you still needed to get the TARDIS out of the closet before the TVA guards followed you inside.

 Without hesitation Loki was immediately at the control panel, figuring out how to pilot the ship, some sparks flew off the console when he flicked one of the switches and he ducked while you let out a yelp, before he stretched his arm out and reached for the leaver, the one the Doctor had told you was called the Time Rotor Handbrake, and the TARDIS began trembling as it dematerialised. 

 Loki and you both held on tight to the console to maintain your balance, before the tremors subsided and you both let out sighs of relief, knowing you were finally safe.

 Loki and you shared a glance and with a flick of his wrist you both transformed back into yourselves before you fell into each other’s arms. You snuggled the tip of your nose into his neck and he planted a gentle kiss on the side of you head.

 “I’m never letting you go again.” Your voice was muffled as you spoke.

 “I’m not going anywhere.” Loki promised.

[tennessoui]

34. meeting at a masquerade ball au pls ✪ ω ✪

oh boy oh boy oh boy!!! did you know i cannot write snippets/short fics?? did you know i just wrote 1200 words for this ? strap in

34. meeting at a masquerade ball:

“I thought the point of these things is for rich people to give us money,” Anakin grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. He wants to reach up and adjust his mask but he can’t because last time he had, Padme had slapped his hands away and spent five minutes yelling at him under her breath about him ruining all of her hard work.

“It is,” Padme responds, smiling pleasantly at someone walking past. “The museum relies on these events to keep departments like yours funded well enough so that you can afford to go cavorting around the globe, exploring unstable ruins and giving me stress ulcers.”

“But don’t you think these guys won’t want to give us money if we can’t see their faces? I mean half the reason they do it is for the recognition.”

“Would it kill you to not think the worst of everyone, all the time?” she asks with a sigh as she turns to give him what he knows is a very judgmental stare from under her mask.

“I guess we’ll never know,” he responds immediately, uncrossing his arms just so he can reach up and fiddle with his mask. He keeps forgetting that he’s wearing it, it’s so light on his face. The black lace is sort of itchy, and it’s not really doing anything to actually hide his identity, but Padme had insisted. Padme had insisted on a lot of things tonight, most infuriating of them being that Anakin show up.

“I did not dress you in gold and black just so you could stand in the corner and complain, Anakin Skywalker. If I don’t see you out on the floor, making nice with potential donors in the next five minutes, I’m pulling your Peru trip.”

“Padme!” Anakin yelps. “You know that’s not--” but she’s gone in a whirl of blue fabric and Anakin is left alone to sulk. He snags a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and downs it in two swallows. Liquid courage as he moves out of his little alcove and into the main floor of the museum, turned into a proper ballroom for the evening.

He’d wanted to stay in tonight and do research for his next trip. He still needs to brush up on the language and customs, as well as relisten to audio clips one of his field interns had sent him yesterday. He’d had plans, Padme, and they did not involve being stuffed into a very stiff outfit that exposed more of his chest than he was comfortable exposing around his coworkers, Padme.

He smiles painfully at the coworkers he recognizes and wonders if he can just talk to them instead, if Padme would notice. She probably would. And with the Peru trip on the line, he can’t afford to play around here.

One more champagne flute. And then he’ll talk to a stranger. Is he getting paid to be here?

He looks around despairingly for a waiter, but they all seem to have unanimously decided to leave him high and dry, emphasis on the dry.

“Ah, good evening,” a voice says to his right and Anakin temporarily abandons his search in order to have what is going to be a very tedious and hopefully brief conversation.

Plans, Padme. He’d had plans.

And they had most certainly not involved impeccably groomed older men dressed in dark navy three-piece suits, holding out a glass of champagne to him. The man’s mask cut diagonally across his face, exposing one steel blue eye, a defined cheekbone and a jawline almost entirely hidden by a neatly trimmed beard.

Anakin accepts the flute almost as if in a dream. “Hi,” he says dazedly.

“You seemed to be looking for one of these,” the man says in a crisp British accent, gesturing with his own glass to the one in Anakin’s hand.

“I--yeah. Yes. Thank you.”

The man smiles at him as if charmed. Maybe the man has terribly low standards in conversational partners.

“I like your. Outfit.” Anakin says, which sounds very stilted but it’s also much better than what he first thought of saying, which is that he liked the way that the man’s shirt was unbuttoned just far enough to expose his collarbone to Anakin’s very greedy eyes.

“I wish I had had something in my wardrobe more worthy of the compliment,” the man responds, falling to stand next to him casually, as if settling in for a long chat.

Anakin’s plans for the night are rapidly shifting and changing before his very eyes. He’s not even mad about it anymore.

“You don’t work here,” he means to ask, but it comes out sounding much more like a statement. He takes a sip of his drink to fortify himself.

“Do I look so out of place?” The man, thankfully, laughs.

“No, no,” Anakin says quickly, and then even faster, “I just would have remembered you.”

One eyebrow raises in something like amusement, and Anakin wants to die. “Oh, you would have, would you?”

He’s not going to answer that. He’s already said enough. More than enough. Too much.

“You’re right, of course. I’m a writer. But I do spend much of my free time here.”

“A writer?”

“Oh yes, science fiction mostly but I’ve found the best science fiction novels take inspiration from our own world.”

“Anything I’ve heard?”

“Quite possibly,” the man nods, taking a sip of his own champagne. “I like to think I’ve done well for myself.”

Oh, so this man’s a donor. He almost wants to look around for Padme, to make sure she’s paying attention to him, but that would mean looking away from the man in front of him, and he doesn’t want to do that at all.

“And you?” the man asks.

“I’m an archaeologist. And archivist with the museum,” Anakin says, trying to think about how to phrase what he does without boring the man. It’s happened too often before with people Anakin’s interested in: they’ll ask him about his job and he’ll talk for so long that by the end of it, he’s single-handedly killed any hopes for a second date.

Not that this is a date or anything remotely like a date. But the principle is the same.

The man’s eyes have lit up, however. “That sounds absolutely fascinating. I would love to hear more.”

“You--you would?” Anakin asks, wrong-footed.

“Absolutely, darling,” the man says, the endearment gliding off of his tongue.

“It’s Anakin,” Anakin says, blushing a furiously bright red.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep by call--”

“It’s fine! That was fine, don’t apologize, please. Just. In case you wanted to know. My name.”

The man smiles then, and it’s beautiful. “It just so happens that I did want to know your name, Ahna-kin. And mine is Obi-Wan, but why should we stop at names? There’s so much more I’d like to know about you.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asks, feeling brave enough to put his hand on Obi-Wan’s--Obi-Wan’s--arm gently. “Like what?”

Obi-Wan covers his hand with his own. His fingertips are rough, or maybe Anakin’s feeling particularly sensitive at the moment. “Everything.”

[buckaroosboogara]

911 week 2021 - Day 1:

“You stole another of my hoodies, didn’t you?  ” + fluff.

(1300~ words, Buckley siblings and mentions of ppd.)

Maddie's laugh sounded from his Jeep's speakers. "Oh, Buck, you really think I can say 'if I find it you'll wash the dishes for a week' and your hoodie will appear?" 

Buck grumbled, "I mean if it works..." 

It was a chill December night in LA and Buck, although a Pennsylvania native, could feel it. 

It was not enough to go full boots and gloves, but his poor circulation and not wanting to deal with a cold and call in sick for the next two shifts guided him straight to his bedroom the moment he felt a breeze on his bare arms. 

Once on the loft, he directed to his wardrobe and started looking for something cozy but homey.

A hoodie. 

He knew from memory where they were. He remembered having at least six hoodies some years before, but he was sure each Abby and Ali took one when he broke up with them, something he could never understand about women, so he had three left. 

One was in his locker at the firehouse, ready for him to put after a shift, the other one probably left behind in Eddie's house after their last pizza night, and the last one, his LAFD one, was in his drawer, fresh and clean from last weekend's laundry. 

Except when he looked for it, it wasn't there.

He turned his whole wardrobe upside down and nothing. 

The thing was that this was the last hoodie the Department gave him until June of the next year. He had already torn two in the last year, between a call with a kitten and showing off in the gym.

Between these thoughts was that he reached the bottom corner of the last drawer, seeing something he hadn't seen in years. His Navy SEAL hoodie. 

It had, unfortunately for him, shrunk so it had no use now. He placed it back where it was, and then put back all the clothes he had taken out. 

Buck begrudgingly put on a fancy sweater before going down again, his mind still thinking about his disappeared hoodie and the weather in his next shifts. 

... 

"And now it results that the one I thought I had in the station vanished into thin air too, though Eddie already told me he would bring the one I left in his house," Buck whined to his sister the next day while he drove back home after his shift. "In consequence, I need your special new mom powers." 

Her laugh sounded from his Jeep's speakers. "Oh, Buck, you really think I can say 'if I find it you'll wash the dishes for a week' and it will appear?" 

Buck grumbled, "I mean if it works..." 

Maddie chuckled one more time and Buck also heard Jee giggling in the background. It was nice to hear them laugh, especially after the mental storm Maddie had been through. "You know what, if you cook something nice for dinner tomorrow, I'll help you looking for your hoodie, but I make no promises. " 

"Yeah, sure! Nothing better than having my niece and my sister in my house," 

"Nuh-uh, the Lee's will babysit her tomorrow, to let us have time for ourselves. They have been helping us a lot, you know, with my... ppd," 

"Okay, then it'll be a Buckley siblings night, just for us!" Buck tried to smile, wishing he could do something else to help her. 

"Yeah, just like the old ti- oh god..." She cut herself and started chuckling. 

Buck's eyes darted from the streets to his phone and back to the streets, like he would be able to see her. "Maddie?" 

"Oh, sorry, sorry," She said, laugh turned giggle. "Hey um, I gotta go, Jee... uh she needs a change of diapers... uh see you tomorrow at 8?" 

He was taken aback by her sudden urge to leave the call, "Uh, y-yeah sure Mads, take care." 

"Bye, love ya!" 

"Love you-" Buck said and the call was ended by his sister. "-too." 

So that was weird, he thought while he parked the Jeep outside his apartment building. 

Now he needed to plan a fancy meal to cook for his sister. 

He would call Bobby for advice later, but now he was craving for a bed and some hours of undisturbed sleep. 

... 

Apple juice for Maddie? Check. 

Pan ready to use? Check. 

Carrot sticks so Maddie didn't eat the main ingredients before dinner? Also, check. 

It has been a while since they had a siblings' night, and he was ready and very excited to have Maddie over. 

He would definitely ask her what was going on with her after the sudden goodbyes they exchanged on their call the day before. 

He continued to chop some more onions and peppers for the stir-fry he had come up with (with Bobby's help) as he hummed to his playlist until some minutes later someone knocked on his door. 

He lowered the heat on the pan and opened the door to find Maddie waiting outside. She was carrying a bag. 

"Hey, you are finally here!" Buck made her pass and hugged her. 

"Yeah, sorry I'm late, but I needed to find this." She pulled away from his arms and gave him the bag. 

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then opened the bag. There, clean and fresh, was his LAFD hoodie. 

"You stole another of my hoodies, didn't you?" 

Maddie chuckled as she went for the carrot sticks on the counter. "Maybe." 

"Just like when we were little. Mine always fit you perfectly although I am years younger." Buck huffed a laugh. "Why don't you steal hoodies from your boyfriend? He's much closer to give them back."

He left the bag with the hoodie on the couch and went back to the kitchen, kissing Maddie on the cheek. "Thanks for bringing it. But how did you even...?" 

"Remember the call yesterday?" Maddie asked. Buck nodded, stirring the stir-fry. 

"Well, I was folding clothes and I found two blue hoodies, which is weird because Chimney has one." She grabbed another stick. "And I remembered when I called you on Monday because it was raining heavily and one of my wheels got flat." 

Buck looked up, realizing, "Right, you were soaked and I gave you my hoodie. And I forgot." 

"Yeah, I knew you would." Maddie made a smirk and Buck directed her a look. 

"What? Sometimes you don't lose your head because it's attached to your neck." 

"Did you come here to offend me?" Buck teased. 

"No, I came here to eat," Maddie answered. 

"Good, help me set the table, and then I'll show you a surprise." 

... 

"So, what is it?" Maddie asked while she helped her brother to wash the dishes after their lovely dinner. "Wait, is it pudding? You know how much I love it."

Buck laughed, "No, it's not pudding although I do have some in the fridge. Just- look for it and I'll be right back." 

And he disappeared upstairs in his bedroom. 

Minutes later, Maddie was enjoying her chocolate pudding when Buck came down with something in his hands and a smile on his face. 

"Here, you can have this." He passed her the thing and she stretched it to have a better look. 

It was a gray hoodie, which read 'Navy SEALs' in the middle, with their logo in blue. It was soft and smelled like Buck's cologne.

"For me?" She asked him. 

"Yeah, I found it the other day and it's shrunken. It doesn't fit me so... I guessed it would fit you." Buck scratched his neck. "That way, you will always have something mine with you." 

"I already have you Buck." She hugged him tightly.

"Great, so can I have it back?"

"Oh no, there's no turning back now." Maddie chuckled.

"Okay, but put it on, I wanna see how it looks." Buck muttered into their hug. 

She did as told and straightened it, taking in the smell and comfort. The sleeves were too long for her arms, but perfect to cover her almost always cold hands.

Maddie looked up at Buck with a wide smile, "How does it look?" 

"Perfect." 

"Thank you." 

"Nonsense, thank you for saving my ass from having to explain to Chief Alonzo why did I need another hoodie." Buck said as he sat on the couch and started eating the pudding. 

Maddie sat by his side and snuggled next to him as both chuckled. "Well, what are siblings for then?"

Buck made a thinking face, "Oh, I don't know, maybe for annoying you forever?"

Maddie smacked him with the hoodie's sleeve and both laughed louder, remembering the old times together.

[the-fiction-witch]

Control P13

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER RATING: SEXY

I sat on a little chair watching across the department store y/n walking around the baby department, I had given up hours ago and sat down where I could still see her. she walked around with her cart, "Y/n?" I called but nothing "Y/n? Little lady?"

"yes Benny?" she calls back as she had heard me that time

"Come here little lady," I told her so she smiled and came over with her little cart "what have you got?"

"Baby stuff"

"Yeah what you've been shopping for hours?"

"I got some tiny clothes, tiny shoes, little bottles and toys" she smiled

"Okay... why my darling is everything pink?"

"Because It's a pretty colour"

"What if it's a boy?"

"Then he will like pink" I said

"But he's a boy"

"Boy's can't like pink?"

"Yeah but... if he had only pink clothes and pink stuff it's gonna get annoying for him, and what if we do have a girl and she hates pink"

"Well. what do you suggest benny?" "I know a gender-neutral colour scheme"

"Do you?" "Black and white"

"You are not dressing our baby up like a chessboard?"

"why not? He'll match the apartment"

"Benny our baby doesn't need to match the aesthetic"

"Maybe not yours. I would like the baby to fit the... chess theme that we have in the apartment and in general when we go places"

"The baby doesn't need to fit the aesthetic benny" she laughs going back to her shopping

"So you're telling me? we go to the Us championship next year and you don't want the baby to have a little black stroller and white blankets while we walk around the hotel?" I smirked as I followed her "So people think your baby is cute?"

"People will think the baby is cute if it's dressed like a chessboard, or a bunny rabbit" she giggled showing a tiny rabbit onzie

"But... if it could be in a chess colour scheme"

"Benny you dress our baby like a chess piece I am letting it thrown up on you"

"Ohh it will. I know it will."

"fine then I will make you watch down there the whole time I am in labour"

"Fine. we should probably sort out the big stuff? like a crib. a high chair. a pram. whatever those bouncy things are"

"bouncy things?"

"those things" I said pointing to them

"That's a yoga ball benny. it's not for babies" "Then why is it in the baby section?"

"It's for pregnant ladies"

"Ooh. then what is that crazy looking thing?"

"That's for getting breast milk in bottles" she laughs

"Oh yeah, your gonna start having milk come out your boobs," I said absentmindedly and she glared at me "what? you are? Ohh does that mean I can't squeeze them anymore?" "Not very hard no"

"I best make use of my time" I smiled cuddling her and grabbing her boobs

"we are in a store!" she whines pushing me away "You want a job to do?"

"Yes."

"Go find toys"

"Toys?"

"Not plushie ones, toy ones. you're smart I want baby to be smart so go find things like what you plaid with as a child"

".... who do you think I was as a child?"

"Like the smarty child playing with the brain toys?"

"No. more the evil child that went around hitting other kids with a stick. and poking dead things

"I would have liked to have known that before you impregnated me benny"

"well now you know"

"That's the kinda stuff they send kids to doctors about?"

"Ohh they did. like four times. I would bite them"

"How old were you?"

"Like three"

"Just go look for toys benny"

"Fine." I sighed giving her a kiss and going to find the toy section "and buy more than a chessboard"

"The baby has to have a chessboard. from the moment it's born"

"Yeah but we own twenty-six of them"

".... fine! I can't choose its toys, I can't dress the baby. what exactly am I involved in?"

"you did your job, it's inside me now your jobs are building baby furniture and take care of me until such time as I birth a small human" she explained "Also we should hurry I really want a crumpet"

"The sex or the food?"

"... both"

"Five minutes little lady, then we shall go home and ... rest"

"good, Ohh I also need a new lipstick while were here" she says scampering off

"Great we'll be here another six hours" I sighed

"what was that?"

"Nothing darling"

I sat at the table going though my game, trying to get some work done, while Y/n was working on setting up the corner of our apartment. I had built the crib and a couple other bits we bought and she was setting it all up putting blankets and toys around in the little places all while she stroked her babybump, I couldnt help looking up often keeping an eye on her.

I smiled resting my chin on my hand and my elbow on the table watching her across the room, She stood sorting the babies stuff folding little blankets and hugging the plushies as she sorted it all out from the shopping bags, in her little fluffy slippers, her sweet white and blue stripped thigh high socks, her little light blue dress with buttons down her chest a couple of them undone, Her large baby bump sat so perfectly even if she often had to becareful not to bump it into things where she still wasn't use to it, her hair in the sweet intense curls fresh out of her rollers, Gently humming a little tune.

"what?" she asked as she spotted me looking at her and I just shrug "Ohh you don't have something to say?" she laughs

"You look pretty" I told her

"Sure I do" she sighed

"You do." I smiled "You look sexy preganant"

"I'm a boat"

"A pretty boat"

"Benny!"

"What?"

"You shouldn't make fun of me"

"I'm not making fun of you."

"How could I ever be sexy with this... thing"

"That thing is our child"

"Still. it's not sexy to look like your trying to steal a watermelon from a supermarket"

"I still think you look sexy" I told her "I still think your sexy. I would still go crazy if you wore that little lacy nightie"

"I can't benny it doesn't fit me anymore"

"I'm sure I can find one in your infinate wardrobe something you and baby can fit in"

"I highly doubt you will find me desireable with this" she says

"I think I will"

"I bet you won't"

"I bet I will"

"Will you now?"

"I know I will" I smirked

"Fine but if I'm right then you have to do the night feedings for three months when baby comes"

"Alright, but if I'm right, then I get to snuggle with you as much as I want. and You will make me victoria sponge cupcakes."

"alright" she nods "You can finish up, and I'll meet you in the bedroom" she smiled giving my head a kiss as she walked to the bathroom.

I sat reading my book but often getting distracted watching her walk around on her huge dress usually holding her hips or her bump. "Ooh bulbs gone" she says as she clicked the ceiling lights on

"Ahh, damn thing that's the fourth one that's gone in there. I think the fitting needs changing. Or I need to ring the landlord to come look at the electric box again" I explain

"Possibly" she says going to the kitchen draw

"What are you doing?"

"Changing the light bulb?" She shurgs

"Are you?" I laughed putting my book down watching her slowly walk over she put up her arm trying so hard to reach it but honestly I don't think she could reach it when she wasn't seven months pregnant, let alone now. I held back my laughs a little watching her try before got up and did it for her

"I was about to do it" she pouted

"Of course you where little lady" I smiled giving her head a kiss and pulling her into a cuddle resting my head on hers "y/n, you are seven months pregnant little lady. You can't do everything you use to"

"Who says I can't?"

"... The doctor"

"Well what does he know"

".... Uuuuuhh alot"

"I can do it Benny I'm not some damn invalid"

"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying you need to slow down a little be careful. Your growing a human inside you you should be resting and being careful. Don't want something bad to happy do we?"

"No. I just don't like sitting around not doing anything," she whines "I have things to do"

"I know you don't. But that's why I'm here I'll take care of my lovely lady, till baby comes Iam your salve darling I'll wait on you hand and foot if you'd want me too"

"Benny" she giggled

"No I mean it. You need to rest" I told her "now you sit down I'll make you some lunch"

"Thank you" she smiled

"Your welcome" I laughed going to the fridge taking the little list I stuck today the fridge off it was a page I ripped out one of her pregnancy books about what she can and can't eat looking in the fridge and at the list trying to think of what I could make her "now... would you like a salad?"

"No" she pouts as she sat on my chair

"Would you like... cereal?"

"No"

"Would you like... mac and cheese?" I asked before I remembered as she bolted for the bathroom and I could hear her throwing up "sorry hun I forgot" I told her "I'll make you some french toast okay? That'll settle baby down"

I went and began making her french toast the way she likes it and eventually she came back "hey, you okay now?"

"Don't mention that stuff"

"I know I'm sorry little lady, I forgot." I laughed giving her a kiss "ah... I uhhh y/n I love you And I don't wanna be rude but... I need to wash my mouth out now because, I can taste the morning sickness" I sighed quickly washing my mouth as I could taste it, it was horrible.

"Sorry Benny"

'ita fine I was dumb for giving you a kiss before you washed your mouth out"

"It's not morning sickness either it's like one pm"

"I class it as morning sickness as you only woke up like two hours ago"

"And morning sickness lasts all day," she says loitering over where I was cooking

"Then why not just call it pregnant sickness?"

"I don't know" she shurgs trying to steal the first finished bit

"Oi! No little lady its too hot you'll burn your pretty mouth"

"What do you care?"

"Well I might wanna use that pretty mouth later" I winked giving her butt a pinch

"Benny!" She whines

"What?"

"Dirty daddy"

"Well how can I not be when mummy's so sexy and beautiful" I cooed giving her a kiss on the head

[beyond-the-mirror]

The Blue Eyed King’s Gift

Finally! As promised Part 3 is now ready.

So as you have seen in the previous chapter, this fanfic was partly inspired by Thumbelina (or Thumbeline, depending on the country you’re from). In this part, however, there are a few hints for the main inspiration of this fanfic, can you guess which fairytale is it?

Be ready though, this chapter is a long one. More under the cut.

Special thanks to @cheesysquid​ for beta-reading and putting up with my amateur writing. Thank you so much for everything, o master of writing.

Pairings: Vergil x Fem Reader

Warnings: None. Pure fluff and wholesomeness in this one.

Tags: @v-vic​. If you want to be tagged let me know!

Part One - Part Two - Part Four

……………………..

Part Three

“Nooo! You pesky knights have defeated me!”

“Take that you evil dragon! You have been slain by the great knights Nero and V!”

Both twins giggled victoriously after tackling their uncle to the ground, causing the man in question to let out a hearty laugh at their adorable antics.

They were still in the middle of playing when the door opened. The boys beamed at the familiar, stoic figure that walked inside, clad in an elegant blue attire and a tired expression evident on his face.

“Papa!” The monarch welcomed the twins into his arms, their innocent smiles already soothing the stress out of his mind and body.

“My apologies for working until late little ones, there were some important matters Papa had to attend to.”

“But, you are still going to play with us tomorrow like you promised, right?” Nero gave his father a worried look, his lips forming a cute little pout that the king would never resist.

The last couple of weeks had been busier than usual for the Blue Eyed King, leaving him little to no time for his beloved children. However, all pending work had finally been solved just in time for the weekend, a perfect opportunity to take a well deserved break from his royal duties for a few days and instead spend them with his lovely sons.

“Don’t you worry, tomorrow I’ll have the entire day free so we can do whatever you two want.” The twins bounced at their father’s words, already excited for the next day to arrive. “But for now it is time for you both to go to bed.”

The twins wanted to protest in hopes of getting at least another few minutes of playtime, pouting and huffing in a displeased manner. But their attempts were thwarted by their uncle, who had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Your papa is right kiddos, it’s already late and all the good little boys must go to sleep. Unless you wish to fall victims to the monster that eats naughty children!” Letting out a playful roar, their uncle picked up Vitale, acting as if trying to munch on the boy’s little arm.

“Eww! Uncle Dante that is gross!” V giggled as he pushed his uncle’s face away from him, failing to make him stop his antics. Finally giving in, Dante lowered him on his respective bed before making his way to the door, letting his older brother tuck his nephews in.

“Now what do we say, my dears?” The monarch asked, giving his sons an expectant look while a warm smile blooms on his face.

“Good night uncle Dante!”

“G’night kiddos. See you tomorrow Verge.” The young prince smiled back at them, and with a salute, he retired to his own chambers for the night.

As Vergil tucked his sons under the soft covers however, his keen eye could notice Nero fidgeting a bit in his bed.

“Is something troubling you, Nero?”

The boy jumped at the abrupt question, hesitating for a few seconds before answering.

“Uhm, earlier you said that tomorrow we could do anything we wanted, so...” Looking down to avoid his father’s intense stare, the young boy took a deep breath before continuing. “Remember our friend (Y/N)?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow in confusion. These last weeks his children would mention her quite often, even though he knew about her existence before they even mentioned the name to him. He indeed recognized and appreciated all the good things this woman had done for the brothers, and it would be a blatant lie to say he wasn’t grateful for her kindness and hospitality. However, he couldn’t help but feel concerned after hearing Nero bringing up her name.

“I do recall her. Something you wish to tell me about it?”

The older brother glanced at Vitale at the bed next to his. He seemed unsure as to what to say, until a silent nod from V gave him the push he needed to speak out.

“Well, V and I were wondering if… we could invite her for dinner tomorrow?”

………………….

Another day, and yet the same routine.

Waking up, getting ready, cooking breakfast for your father and preparing all the goods to be sold at the market before departing.

That’s how it has been for some years now, and yet something felt different.

Lately you’ve been smiling more. Everytime you cooked, you would hum a cheery song to yourself. Your plants and crops would receive more kind words from you than usual, which resulted in better harvests, and therefore, better sales.

There was no doubt as to why there was more light in your life. Two reasons actually: two adorable little brothers that would often grace you abode with their beaming presence.

It was no surprise to receive a sudden visit from Nero and Vitale, always accompanied by their two animal friends Griffon and Shadow. Those afternoons became your favorites, when you welcomed the twins into your garden so they could play as much as their hearts wanted to. On days when you weren’t particularly busy tending to your father, you would join them in their adorable antics and games.

While your father’s attitude had sabotaged your childhood, one that you hoped could have been happier, there was no denying the bond you formed with the twins. Eventually you found yourself going through all your belongings from your childhood that you had locked away inside an aged trunk in your room. And much to your luck, you found some of your old toys still in pristine condition. An idea then hatched in your head, why not share them with Nero and Vitale next time they visited?

As you tended to your garden, you spotted a couple of familiar silhouettes approaching your family’s chateau, which brought a bright smile to your face. It seemed today they decided to drop by earlier than usual, nevertheless you still welcomed the brothers into your yard.

“(Y/N)!” They exclaimed simultaneously as they ran to you, wrapping you into a warm hug as soon as you kneeled down to their height.

“Is the bad man at home?” V whispered into your ear.

“The bad man is sleeping. Don’t worry about him.” You winked at both brothers before ushering them in and towards the garden, glancing around to make sure your father wasn’t around.

Every time you would always make sure to keep the brothers hidden from your father. It was for the best, as you figured it must not be healthy to expose such innocent children to a volatile and constantly inebriated man like him.

“So what do I owe this unexpected visit? You arrived quite earlier than usual today.”

“Actually, we came here to invite you to our house.” Nero announced in a cheerful tone.

V nodded before completing his brother’s words “We asked our father and he said he wanted to meet you. So he wishes for you to come and have dinner with us.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, the request took you by surprise. “Well I do appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure if I could really go. I don’t want to be a bother there, and I still have some chores to do here.”

A frown crossed the twin’s faces “Please (Y/N). We promise you will not be a bother, we really want you to go.” V pleaded, immediately followed by Nero.

“Yes, and we could play and have so much fun! Plus, we can show you our home and you can meet all our family and friends.”

“But…”

“Pretty pleeeease?”

‘Oh, be still my heart.’ you internally struggled as you witnessed the cutest and loveliest pair of puppy eyes you had ever seen in your life.

“Alright then” you sighed in defeat. There was no way you could resist the charm of those two. “Let me just change my clothes and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Yay! Thank you (Y/N)!” They jumped up and down in glee, a rather adorable sight for you.

And so you made your way towards your bedroom, leaving the twins in the safety of your garden for them to play while you got ready.

You rummaged through your wardrobe in search of a nice enough dress, if you were about to meet the twins’ family then it was best to dress appropriately and cause a good first impression. You opted for a light blue gown, not too elegant but not too casual, perfect for an afternoon meeting. Searching through your jewelry box, you opted for a pair of pearl earrings, a blue hair ribbon to tie up your hair, and last but not least, a beautiful choker necklace that used to belong to your mother.

The sight of it brought a nostalgic smile to your face. Your fingers lightly traced the small blue rose at the center, the single sapphire drop beneath it reflecting light ever so pretty.

Sitting on your vanity you began working on your hair, combing and styling your locks into a simple but classy updo. However, as you sat there getting ready, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of family did the brothers have. By the clean outfits they would always wear you figured they must have a wealthy enough family. The thought made you feel nervous, would they approve of you? The daughter of a bankrupt, alcoholic noble with a terrible reputation? A once respected family name now tarnished by the actions of your father, you lamented how things came to be.

With a deep sigh, you tried to shake those feelings off. Your little guests were waiting for you, and you wouldn’t dare let those negative thoughts crush their earlier happiness. It was the least you could do for them, the little lights of your life.

………………….

“You are going to love our home (Y/N)! It’s so pretty and everyone is so nice and kind. Also, Papa has an enormous library! Right V?”

“Yes! It’s my favorite place ever. I can’t wait to show you all the pretty books!”

Nero and V bounced all the way as they pulled at your hands, guiding you to their house.

And yet you couldn’t help but wonder about where the boys lived. Your father’s chateau was quite remote, and not once did you spot another house during your trips to the village. But you shrugged the thoughts away, choosing to instead follow Nero and V while enjoying their company.

That was until you noticed they were leading you towards the dense woods.

“Shouldn’t we take the road instead? The woods could be dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

But the boys simply shook their heads. “They’re very safe, besides we always take this route.”

“Don’t be scared (Y/N). We promise you it’s going to be okay, you can trust us.” Both twins reassured you,  soothing your doubtful mind. Should it be true they have been crossing the woods to visit you, then danger was nowhere near.

“Alright then. Let’s keep going.”

………………….

A soothing peace lingered on the woodlands. Birds chirped away despite it already being past noon, flowers of all kinds painted the ground in all kinds of patterns and colors, warm rays of sunlight shone through the many tree branches and bathed the earth in a mystical aura.

Never once had you paid attention to the forest near your father’s chateau. Whether it was out of fear of the beasts that could possibly lurk there, or the scary thoughts of getting lost there and never finding your way back home; entering there barely crossed your mind.

And apparently you weren’t the only one who thought so. As vast as it seemed to be, the place appeared as unmarked in every map of the region. Just a big, nameless spot too unimportant to be considered as a landmark by locals and travelers.

So it made sense to ask yourself, as Nero and Vitale brought you along into the unknown, just what kind of family would take interest in living in a place like this?

Staring at Griffon’s figure flying just ahead, you wondered how far you were from home, and just how long you had been here in the heart of nature. It felt like an eternity, and at the same time it felt like only a couple minutes. Now that you thought about it, why did it look like the same scenery repeated over and over? The same trees, the same flowers, the same chirping birds.

What is this place?

“Here we are.” The sound of V’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took a few moments to register where you were, and after blinking a couple times, you took in your surroundings.

Never had you seen something so otherworldly.

A small clearing, barely illuminated by a few rays of sunlight, laid right in front of you. The irregular terrain of the woods had now turned into a layer of soft green grass. But what truly caught your eye was what stood right in the center of the clearing: A lone stone arch was there, tall and covered in moss, looking as if it had witnessed many ancient eras that were now long forgotten.

A dead silence veiled the land, yet the mere presence of the arch weighed so heavy in the air. It almost felt as if it were alive, an ancient being filled with sorrow over being the only surviving structure of a lost kingdom. You found yourself staring at it for a bit too long, not expecting to see something so out of place in this forest.

“C’mon (Y/N)! Our home is right there!” Nero tugged at your hand, taking you towards the stone arch in a hurry.

You were about to ask what he meant, but the words never left your lips as the twins pulled you to the other side.

………………….

There was a fairytale you were fond of when you were a child, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland if you recalled correctly. There was a particular scene you remembered, one where Alice stumbled into a rabbit hole, falling deep down until she found herself in another world.

At this moment in your life, you felt like Alice. Except instead of following a white rabbit into a rabbit hole, you followed two brothers across a stone arch.

You gaped in awe at the scenery before you.

The thick forest you were once in had vanished completely, now replaced by a vibrant city full of life. Everything looked so much different from the little village you knew, from the buildings to the shops and even the clothes people were wearing. You were especially taken back by the strange carriages that ran along the streets, impressed by the fact they moved around by themselves without horses or any other animal pulling them.

Not only did it feel like a different place, but also like a different time.

“Griffon, Shadow, could you please go to our father and inform him of our return?” As V finished his request, what happened almost made you stumble back in shock.

Shadow’s body began transforming into what seemed to be ink, heavy and shapeless, before morphing into a majestic panther with crimson markings glowing all over its body. Meanwhile, Griffon enveloped itself in blue sparks, growing into a demonic avian with three beaks and three golden pupils.

Both creatures, however, meant no harm at all as they bowed before the boys before departing in order to carry V’s order.

You were still staring at their figures disappearing into the crowd when a sudden gruff voice broke you out of your trance.

“I see you have returned safely, Your Highnesses”.

“Hello again mister Morrison. This is our friend (Y/N)!” Vitale greeted back. The man, Morrison, was a dark-skinned gentleman who looked to be in his fifties, impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit.

You weren’t sure if he was a noble or a commoner, if anything the exquisite clothes he dorned seemed to indicate the former. Wanting to be on your best behavior, you curtsied appropriately and introduced yourself to the gentleman before you.

“The famous miss (Y/N) herself. A pleasure meeting the lady that his highnesses have been mentioning about lately.”

‘His highnesses?’

“Uhm, if it is not too inappropriate of me to ask mister Morrison... exactly where am I?”

The man chuckled warmly at your questions. “My apologies milady. We are not exactly used to visitors from outside, I should have been more considerate though.” Morrison took a pause before continuing.

“Welcome to the Great Kingdom of Fortuna, Lady (Y/N).”

………………….

‘Well, talk about unexpected news.’ Said the voice in your mind, still processing what you just learned so far.

You learned that you were in Fortuna, a kingdom that exists in its own dimension, hidden behind a magical barrier. Nero and Vitale were also nobles, the beloved sons of a powerful demon king that reigned over this uncharted land. How mystifying it was to be in a land whose name eluded even the most thorough history lessons you were given since birth.

And now here you were, in one of those horseless carriages you had seen on the streets just minutes ago, on the way to meet the Demon King himself. Both twins kept giving you apologetic looks, their poor souls not expecting your reaction to be so flabbergasted.

Still, you kept reassuring them that it was nothing to worry about. There was no way their innocent minds would have taken that into account.

But now you found your mind drifting to what could be waiting for you at the castle. Judging by the recent events you had gone through on the same day, there was no way this day could become any more unusual.

………………….

His fingers ran through his hair for what had to be the hundredth time that day, despite it already being as pristine as always. Vergil sighed in frustration as a few bangs fell out of place and over his forehead, his bad habit of slicking back his hair already making matters worse.

“Hey now, cut yourself some slack bro.” Dante tried to cheer his brother up, brushing back his bangs into their proper place.

“Shall I remind you how this was basically your idea, brother?” He gave a deadly glare towards Dante once he stepped back.

When his sons had suggested inviting that woman to the palace, he was taken completely by surprise. Ever since the day Vergil had decided to isolate Fortuna from the rest of the world, the idea of welcoming an outsider has been completely out of discussion.

As much as he trusted (Y/N) with his children, and as much as Nero and Vitale insisted and sobbed, his decision was absolute.

‘But papa, she lives with a bad man. Her father is evil and cruel to her.’

‘But father, we love playing with her. We want to protect her from the bad man.’

He could see it, the true meaning carried within the tears that cascaded down his sons’ faces. They only wished to make her happy, get her away from the sad reality that was dealing with a drunken parent all the time, even if just for a day.

Of course Vergil understood, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t moved by their sweet intentions. However, he just couldn’t risk not only his family’s safety, but also his kingdom’s.

And then his annoying little brother intervened.

How did he manage to convince him? Nobody would ever know, least not Vergil himself.

“I’m just trying to help here. Besides, this (Y/N) girl doesn’t seem that bad so what’s the problem of letting one outsider in?”

Vergil grunted, becoming more unamused by Dante’s words by the second. He was about to retort when his brother rudely interrupted him.

“Or maybe the reason you are nervous is because you always look at her image like a love-struck puppy.”

At his words the king became paler than a ghost. “I’m not sure what you are talking about.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his own insecurity.

“Don’t think for a second I haven’t seen you watching over her and the little ones with your magic.” Dante winked in an amused manner.

Feelings for that woman? Ridiculous. Sure she may look identical to his late queen, and her mannerisms may be almost the same, but his beloved was long gone. And yet Vergil couldn’t help the way (Y/N)’s image tugged at his heart.

No. There must not be any feelings whatsoever. (Y/N) was just an outsider and that was it. Even if his brother kept bothering him about it.

………………….

As you stepped into the majestic palace, you were rendered speechless by its luxurious interior.

Immaculate walls decorated with elegant and almost endless columns, their architecture like no other you had ever imagined. Not a single stain or speck of dust could be seen on the white and dark blue marble floor, and all the furniture pieces looked to be designed and handmade by master craftsmen.

Your gaze fell on the grand staircase at the center of the entry hall when you heard a door opening, the sound making all the servants bow at the figure that had entered the room.

The Blue Eyed King himself had entered. A gentleman dressed in an elegant navy blue suit, perfectly tailored and made with the richest fabric money could afford. His chiseled face was strong and defined, like a greek marble statue come to life. His luscious white hair was slicked back, not a single hair out of place. To complete his outfit, a matching tailcoat dorned his frame, decorated in a regal silver brocade that resembled wild briars enveloping his figure in exquisite patterns.

Everything about the king’s appearance exuded perfection and beauty, but what really caught your attention were his eyes. They were an icy blue, sharp and piercing like a deadly sword. Those were not the eyes of a human but of a demon, one with the power to make entire legions kneel and submit with a single glare.

Needless to say, the king’s mere presence intimidated you. And when his eyes connected with yours for an instant, you swore your heart stopped. Whether it was out of fear or wonder, you weren’t sure.

That was until the children at your sides started giggling.

“Papa!” The brothers ran towards their father with their little arms open.

And just like that, the demon in his eyes vanished. Kneeling down, the monarch welcomed his sons into his arms, a gentle smile breaking the cold stoicism that once rested on his face. Gone was the sharp look he had just seconds ago, now replaced with a warm light at the sight of his beloved children.

You couldn’t help but smile at them. However, when the king stood back up with the twins in hand, you were quick to regain your posture.

“Lady (Y/N), I present you King Vergil Sparda, ruler of the Great Kingdom of Fortuna.” In the most refined and formal manner, Morrison introduced his lord, before gesturing at the brothers. “His sons, Prince Nero Sparda and Prince Vitale Sparda.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.” You curtsied, now regretting your choice of attire. A more formal dress would have been more appropriate for the occasion, but then again, you definitely didn’t expect to meet a King on this particular day. A sigh almost escaped your lips, and you dared to hope no one took notice of the gesture.

“The pleasure is mine, Lady (Y/N). I am glad you have accepted our invitation, Nero and Vitale have told me a lot about you recently.”

The children nodded in agreement. “Father, can we go play with (Y/N) now? Please?” Vitale gave a timid pull at his father’s sleeve.

“We want to show (Y/N) the castle!” Nero added with an adorable bounce.

“No little ones. Dinner is almost served and we don’t want to be late.” Vergil responded in a most gentle manner, yet firm enough to get his point across.

Both twins looked like they were about to protest when their poor stomachs rumbled in hunger, prompting you to let out a soft laugh.

Kneeling down to their level, you patted their heads lovingly. “Now my children, we’ll have all the time to play whatever you want after eating. For now let’s get you something to eat, hm?”

“And then we get to play together?” Again, the boys try to sway you with those irresistible puppy eyes of them.

“As much as you two want.”

The children would have taken off on a race to the dining hall if it weren’t for Morrison who stopped them in their tracks. The twins’ antics coaxed a laugh out of you, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught the king himself letting out a low chuckle. But the moment he acknowledged your staring, he couldn’t help but blush a bit.

“Please excuse my sons’ behavior.” He cleared his throat. “Recently they have begun their training in etiquette protocols, but i’m afraid they continue to ignore them each time I’m present.”

You shook your head to reassure him “Do not apologize, Your Majesty. Such an attitude must mean they see you as a loving father rather than a ruler, a person far greater than any royal in the eyes of a child, don’t you think?”

“An interesting point indeed.” Vergil hummed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. For a second he looked like his mind was in conflict despite the cordial smile on his face, but he was quick to shrug it off. “Please allow me to lead you to the dining hall. You must be feeling hungry after your trip from home.”

The King proceeded to offer you a gloved hand. His eyes remained fixated on you, looking as if they were piercing into your very soul.

A bit hesitant, you accepted his offer, your soft palm soon enveloped by his warm fingers. On your way to the dining hall, the pink tint decorating your cheeks never once left.

………………….

All kinds of delicacies lined the grand table in front of you, trays filled with the most delicious looking food you had ever seen.

It took you by surprise when the monarch gestured to the seat at the right of his.

“I thank you for the invitation, your Majesty. However, I do not consider myself worthy of sitting at your right side.”

“Quite the contrary, Lady (Y/N). Nero and Vitale have told me of what you have done for them, and they requested for me to invite you to our palace. This feast was prepared as a show of my gratitude for the kindness you have given my children.”

The twins smiled at you. Knowing this was their idea warmed your heart to no end.

“I.. I don’t know what to say, your Majesty, except... Thank you for your generosity.”

Vergil offered you a smile before taking his seat at the head of the table, while his beloved sons were seated at his left side.

You sat at the king’s right, feeling nervous to take such an important place at a royal’s table. However, you were even further surprised to see that the rest of the servitude, including mister Morrison, occupied the seats too. In the countless times your family was invited to a noble’s house, never were the servants allowed to sit at the same table as the patrons.

Nero took notice of your expression and immediately understood your confusion. “Years ago, we told Papa we didn’t like the table to be so empty every time we ate, so we requested him to let all our friends sit with us too.” He explained, whispering loud enough for you to hear him.

Vergil smiled with fondness at the memory before adding “It has become a tradition since then.”

It seems not only were they a light in your life, but to everyone that met them.

“By the way,” Vitale looked around as if searching for something “Where is uncle Dante?”

‘Uncle Dante?’

“Hello family! Sorry for being late!” A boisterous yell resounded across the dining hall.

Turning around, you noticed a man who looked identical to King Vergil, and yet the energy he radiated couldn’t be more opposite to that of the monarch. His hair looked tousled, a contrast to the king’s slicked back hair. He sported a bit of a stubble, and the suit he wore as well as his tailcoat were a striking red.

The man you assumed to be Dante was about to take his seat at the table when his eyes noticed you.

“Oh! you must be Lady (Y/N), sorry for my rude entry.” As Dante approached, you stood back up to offer a polite curtsy. “I am Dante Sparda. It is an honour to finally make your acquaintance, milady.”

The noble offered you a wide smile, taking your hand in a gentle hold before planting a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“The honour is mine, Prince Dante.” Your response was a bit bashful to the mannerisms of the noble before you, so you opted for a polite smile before sitting back down.

“So what are we eating on this fine day?” Walking around the table, Dante sat himself beside the twins, who immediately jumped to his arms.

Turning to the monarch, however, his reaction was far from the joyous one the boys had. In any case, he looked more like the demon you had seen the moment you first saw him.

“Please excuse my younger brother, Lady (Y/N). Unlike my sons, Dante never had a problem with ignoring the proper etiquette.”

Trying your best to ignore the deadly look Vergil was giving his brother, you proceeded to eat the meal in front of you with a low giggle, just like Nero and V in front of you.

………………….

“Aww can’t you stay for a little longer (Y/N)?” Nero gave a sad frown.

As much as you would have loved to stay with them, the sun was already setting down in the horizon. You still needed to care for your father back home and prepare everything for tomorrow’s sale at the market.

“I’m afraid I can’t, little ones. But you are free to drop by my father’s chateau whenever you want.” You pulled the boys into a tight hug.

Footsteps reached your ears, and rising your head, you noticed that the Blue Eyed King was approaching you.

“Are you sure you wish to leave Lady (Y/N)? You are welcome to stay in Fortuna and at my palace as long as you need too.”

You offered the king a polite shake of your head. “You are very generous, your Majesty. However, I do not want to cause any more inconveniences to your family and your staff. Besides, it’s getting late and I have a few matters to attend at home.”

As you gave a warm smile, the monarch’s mind was once again transported to past memories long thought to be overcome.

‘There must not be any feelings whatsoever.’ He reminded himself, before banishing those memories from his mind.

“In that case, please follow me.”

As you were being led through the many halls of the castle, you eventually reached the royal garden. Flowers and exotic plants decorated the place, all of them aligned in impeccable designs and nurtured as best as possible. At the center of it all, was a structure that was already familiar to you. A stone arch, this one surrounded by a bed of breath-taking blue roses.

“This portal can take you back to your home.” Vergil began explaining. “Picture in your mind the place you wish to go to, and once you step inside you shall be taken there. Afterwards, the portal will close behind you, and you will notice that time will not have changed since your arrival at Fortuna. You are welcome to visit the castle as many times as you wish.”

You turned to the monarch a bit incredulous. Have you heard correctly? The King himself had just invited you to return anytime you wanted. You would be lying if you said the warm treatment you received that day wasn’t unwelcomed, after having to support yourself and your father on your own all your life this was a rather pleasant change.

“Your Majesty, I-I can’t describe how grateful I am for your hospitality. However, I’m still not sure how I’ll be able to find the way back to this place again.”

At your doubts, Vergil kindly answered “As long as your heart wishes to, the way shall always reveal itself to you. And as long as you have something from your own timeline with you,” he then gestured at the choker that decorated your neck. “You shall always find your way back home.”

You were about to say something when the King reached for your hand, holding it gently and raising it to his lips before placing a soft kiss on the knuckles. Each and every word died before leaving your lips, the feeling of Vergil’s pillowing lips on your hand taking your breath away.

His eyes fluttered open, his gorgeous eyes now fixated on yours as his lips parted from the back of your hand. All you could do was avert your eyes, a rosy blush tainting your cheeks. Never in your life had you felt so bashful, and as much as you wanted to hide your sudden shyness nothing seemed to work. So instead you turned to the children, getting down on one knee before them.

“I promise you we’ll get to play another time, alright?”

After one last hug from them, you stood back up and crossed the portal, departing back home.

………………….

Everything was exactly the way it was when you left, even your father who still remained inside his chambers in a deep slumber as usual.

WIthout any further ado, you continued with your daily activities. Tomorrow will be another day, and yet the same routine awaited you as any other day before.

Waking up, getting ready, cooking breakfast for your father and preparing all the goods to be sold at the market before departing.

That’s how it has been for some years now, but now something was definitely different.

Your thoughts drifted to Nero and Vitale, and then to King Vergil.

‘Maybe I should drop by again in a few days…’

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Rating: T

Summary: After your mother’s untimely death, your father sees no use for you in Alfheim’s castle. He turns to Odin and Frigga, his longtime friends, and begs them to raise his daughter. This results in what many families yearn for their daughters to have: practically unhindered access to Asgard’s finest resources, as well as the attention of Asgard’s princes. Closer in age and personality, you get along better with Loki, and the two of you become fast friends. As you get older, that friendship grows into something more. Always hanging over your head is the threat of your father calling you back to Alfheim to fulfill the one duty he has for you: entering into a strategic marriage and increasing his own power. Still, you and Loki decide to make the most of the time you have left...however long that may be. 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor am I making any money from this story. 

A/n: Hello, thank you for stopping by! I originally posted this on ff.net, but now that I’m reading it, I kind of hate it. So I decided to clean it up, rework it a bit, and post it here! Also, all the ages I include here are the Earthly approximates of Aesir ages. Because they live for thousands of years, time passes differently for them. I just went with my approximation of their Earthly ages for my sanity and simplicity’s sake. 

Word count: 2947

Warnings: None

Y/n: 7 // Loki: 9 // Thor: 14

Y/n’s POV

“Come now, girl,” Odin’s pinched voice calls ahead of me. I pick up the skirt of my dress and quicken my pace, hoping not to displease him further. The high walls of the castle are imposing enough—I don’t need the added stress of an angry king. Odin continues. “This is Idsol. She will show you to your room and serve as your nanny until you are old enough to require a maidservant.”

He says nothing more. Taking that as a dismissal, I curtsey and murmur a, “thank you, Your Majesty,” to the king.

Idsol, an older, severe-looking woman with a slicked back bun, beckons to me, and I follow her to the doors of my new chambers. When she speaks, her voice is rough, though her phrasing is elegant. It is clear she’s grown up in the influence of Court. “Here, let us get you changed into something fresh.” She leads me into a generously sized room and takes me straight to the wardrobe on the far-right wall. I don’t even have time to assess my new dwellings, because Idsol is pulling the fabric of my dress over my head and shoving me into a new one made of a soft blue color.

“Dinner begins at seven o’clock. I will come to retrieve you and escort you to dinner. During dinner, you will take your seat quietly and not speak unless spoken to. Understand?”

She waits for my nod before continuing. “Keep your head down and your elbows off the table. You don’t want to make a bad first impression, do you?”

I shake my head ‘no’, but in reality, I can’t find the energy to care. It’s been a long, exhausting day, and there’s still nearly half of it left. “Good.” Idsol approves. “Stay here in your chambers until I come to collect you.”

She leaves and I stare blankly at the door, not feeling much at all. Lacking the willpower necessary to climb onto the huge bed, I sit on the cold stone floor and pull my tiny doll—Elsa—into my arms. It’s then that the tears hit me. I rock myself back and forth, clutching the doll that looks so much like my mother, searching for a comfort that is unlikely to be found.

“Mama…” The name echoes off the stone walls.

{***}

When my room becomes dark due to the absence of sun streaming through the windows, Nanny Idsol finds me curled into a ball on the floor, still gripping my doll. Tears stain my face, but I ran out of new ones long ago.

“Oh, now,” Nanny Idsol chastises, pulling me off the ground and setting me on the plush bed. She disappears, returning moments later with a washrag, which she uses to wipe my face clean. She quickly styles my hair into a presentable braid, then picks me up and places me on the ground. “Time for dinner.” She plucks Elsa from my hands, earning a noise of protest from me, which she quickly silences with a look.

I follow her dejectedly to the eating hall. She pushes me in, then abandons me. I file into what I hope is my seat. As the King’s Ward, I know I’m invited to dine with the Royal Family, but I do not feel lucky, as many would. I just feel sad.

King Odin enters and I stand, well aware of protocol even in my current state. As soon as he sits, I make a move to take my seat again, but am stopped by a warm hand gripping my elbow.

Gulping in surprise, I raise my head to see who is touching me. The boy stopping me is tall with wavy blonde hair reaching to his chin. Most likely one of Odin’s sons.

“My Lady, I’m afraid that this is my seat.”

“I-I…”I try to speak, but all that comes out is air. Panicked, I look at the ground.

The boy sighs and uses his grip on my elbow to pull me to the middle of the table. The King’s seat.

“Father, who is this and where does she sit?” Annoyance colors the boy’s voice. If I had to guess, I’d say this one is Prince Thor. I’d heard he’s the eldest of the two.

Odin looks up and seems surprised by my presence. “Ah, I almost forgot.” He stands, evidently preparing to make an announcement. I take a few steps back, hoping to hide behind Prince Thor’s height. It doesn’t work.

“Lords and Ladies of Asgard.” The Court snaps to attention. “It is my…pleasure,” he seems to stumble over the word, “to present to you Y/n Y/L/N. After the tragic death of her mother, my family has agreed to take her in and raise her in her family’s stead.”

Prince Thor rolls his eyes and pushes me forward so the people in the eating hall can get a better look at me. I feel my cheeks heat up as I look down at the sixty-or-so gods and goddesses in the room. They applaud, evidently pleased with Odin’s charity. He smiles and waves before taking his seat a few moments later. The matter of my seat, however, has yet to be resolved.

“Mother?” Prince Thor’s voice is now positively whining.

Queen Frigga looks up at us and assesses the situation. A kind smile crosses her face, and I feel a twinge in my heart. “Sit here, child.” She points to a seat at the far left end of the table next to a boy a few years older than me who had previously gone unnoticed. He’s likely Prince Loki, the youngest.

I shuffle to my seat and wait to be served.

The boy gives me a couple of curious glances but doesn’t say anything until dessert, when he confirms my hunch. “I’m Prince Loki.”

I look up to meet his kind green eyes. “Y/n.” He nods, and that’s the end of it.

After dinner, Nanny Idsol comes to escort me back to my room. As she changes me for bed, she feels the need to talk. “Did you enjoy dinner, Young Mistress?”

I shrug. I don’t remember the taste of anything. Nanny Idsol’s mouth sets into a frustrated line, but she says nothing further. She puts me into bed and leaves me to my tearful night.

{***}

The next three days drag by. I spend every moment I can in my room, but I am still forced to attend dinner. My spot continues to be next to Prince Loki, who never ceases his curious glances but rarely says more to me than, “please pass the butter”. No one else acknowledges my presence.

On the fourth day of my self-imposed isolation, there’s a knock at my door. I open it to see Queen Frigga standing there with a soft smile on her face. My eyes widen and I quickly curtsy. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

She clasps her hands together, her grace and expensive dress causing her to appear statuesque. When she speaks, it’s with the grace and elegance only obtained through royal blood and years of quality instruction. “Good morning, Lady Y/n. How are you today?”

My mouth goes dry. This is the most intense conversation I’ve had since I departed from Alfheim. “Q-quite well, Your Majesty. And yourself?”

An amused smile floats across her face. “I’ve nothing to complain about. Tell me, young one, why do you keep yourself locked in your chambers?” She bends slightly so she’s closer to my height, but I am still intimidated. It’s not everyday the Queen personally visits the young daughter of a diplomat.

I don’t risk lying to her. “I miss my home, Your Majesty.” She raises an eyebrow, expecting me to elaborate. I oblige. “I miss my friends, and my tutors, and my horses. I miss the music and the sunsets. I miss…” My voice trails off and my eyes find a spot on the floor. I just want to go back to bed.

But the Queen is not done with me, and probes further. “You miss…?”

I sigh, realizing I cannot avoid the words it will hurt to confront. “I miss my mother.”

Queen Frigga’s face turns into one colored with pity and sadness, and something in my stomach clenches. “Young Y/n, your mother is now in Vanaheim, a place lovelier than any other. It is our burden to miss the ones that are gone, but we should also celebrate their fortune. She is happy, I can promise you that. And she watches over you still; she cares for you and sends her love to you.”

My eyes fill with tears. I bite my lip in a desperate attempt to keep them from spilling over.

The Queen continues. “Although I did not know your mother well, I am a mother myself. And, as a mother, I can guess that it would sadden her to see you sequestered into your chambers all these hours. Come, let us get you freshened up. You shall please your mother by playing with the other children.”

I sniffle and follow her to my wardrobe. The impropriety of the situation manages to strike me. “Your Majesty, I can call for Nanny Idsol—”

“Do not trouble yourself,” she interrupts, ending my attempts at protesting. “I know how to dress a young lady, as I once was one…long, long ago.” She throws an impish smile over her shoulder, one I’m sure she does not show often. I feel honored, and a hesitant smile begins on my face. She finds a dress that catches her eye. “How about this? Lilac would look lovely with your hair.” I blush and thank the Queen.

Soon, I’m wearing a new dress and my hair is done in a braid wrapping around my head.

Queen Frigga says nothing of the doll in my arms and beckons me to follow her into the hallway. There, we find a scandalized Nanny Idsol.

“Y-Your Majesty, please. Let me escort Lady Y/n. You must have—”

Queen Frigga cuts my nanny off with a raised hand. “Thank you for your offer, Nanny Idsol, but I’m sure I can manage. In the future, however, please remember that a good caretaker does not ignore the needs of her ward.”

“Y-yes, my Queen. Sorry, my Queen.”

Queen Frigga offers a kind yet firm smile, and I’m filled with admiration. What it must take to exude the perfect balance of authority and benevolence.

We continue on our route, and I get more and more confused as we wind through the labyrinthine halls. It will be quite some time before I will be ready to accurately navigate Castle Asgard alone.

We come to a double set of large oak doors, and the guards posted outside straighten before opening them wide. Cool air hits my face.

The room is a large, circular shape, and the center is slightly lowered than the rest. Mostly decorated in browns and golds, the room has an earthy feel to it. A window opposite the doors allows for some natural light, but the room is largely lit by light spheres and torches. I raise my eyebrows appreciatively. This room could be quite peaceful.

“Mother!”

Any hope of peace is quickly erased by the sight and sound of the two Asgardian princes.

“Thor, Loki.” The Queen uses their names as a fond greeting. “Spend some time with Lady Y/n; help her to feel more at home.” Both boys nod dutifully, but I can tell Prince Thor is a little annoyed at his task of entertaining a young girl. I restrain a huff of indignation. If only he knew how content I would be in my own chambers.

Still, I retain my respectful attitude. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I curtsy as the Queen leaves, then turn to my face my playmates, curtsying to them both as well.

“Your Highnesses, I am sorry to disrupt your time of leisure.” They both stare at me blankly, as if they’re unsure what to do with me.

Finally, Prince Thor nods, and I take that as my dismissal. I find a spot on the edge of the room and sit there with my doll. Quickly, Prince Thor and Prince Loki forget my presence and resume their game of war. I busy myself playing with Elsa’s hair, admiring how well the color resembles the one shared by me and my mother. It reflects off the light from the torches, creating a mesmerizing effect. I spend the better part of an hour braiding and re-braiding the hair of my doll.

“Mother said to play with her.” Despite his attempts, Prince Loki’s hushed voice carries to my side of the room.

“No,” his brother’s voice retorts, full of manufactured authority. “Mother said to make her feel at home. She looks pretty at home to me on that edge there.”

Prince Loki huffs, and Prince Thor rolls his eyes. “I did not mean that rudely, just that she does not seem like the type of girl to enjoy being around other people.”

I pretend to not have heard their conversation as the youngest prince stomps over to me, his brother reluctantly following behind him.

Prince Loki stops a few feet from me, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like to join us, My Lady?”

Knowing better than to refuse the request of a prince, I accept. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”

Prince Loki takes it upon himself to explain the rules of the game. “You see, Thor’s the hero, and I’m the villain. My goal is to steal the orb he’s guarding, and Thor’s job is not to let me.” Upon seeing Prince Thor’s pointed stare, Prince Loki quickly adds, “You can be on my team.”

I continue to stand safely out of the way.  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Ready…go!” Prince Thor’s booming voice begins the game. I study Prince Loki’s movements as he tries to concoct a strategy to get past his brother. Prince Thor is older and stronger, but Prince Loki is clearly smarter. He uses strategy and cunning in his attempts, while Prince Thor relies on brute strength. In the end though, Prince Thor wins by decisively tossing his brother across the room. My eyes widen and I clutch Elsa tighter to my chest, but Prince Loki just laughs good-naturedly and brushes himself off, walking back to join us in the center of the room.

“Lady Y/n, why don’t you take a turn?”

Prince Thor and I are in similar states of disagreement with Loki’s suggestion, yet neither of us argues. Not loosening my grip on my doll, I step forward to face Prince Thor. He’s at least double my height and his arms are the size of my head. I’ve heard tales of his affability, but he could probably crush me on accident alone! Still, I dig my heels into the floor, steeling myself for what’s to come. He lets me make the first move—a small step in his direction—before ending my forward progress; with a grand step, he’s placed himself in front of me. He reaches his meaty arms toward my frame and—

Bam!

He takes a startled step backwards.

It takes a second before the gravity of what I’ve just done hits me. Oh gods. I just punched the future king of Asgard in the face.

Prince Loki howls with laughter, but I am utterly mortified.

“Your Highness, please forgive me. I-I am so sorry! I don’t now why I did that. I-I just…”

Prince Thor glowers.

Prince Loki steps between us. “Oh, come now, brother. You cannot seriously be angry with the girl. You scared her, and she reacted accordingly! Leave her be.” Prince Loki’s defense of me is harmed somewhat by his continued laughter.

Prince Thor’s eyebrows twitch before he excuses himself and stalks off to the other side of the room to do some exercise.

Prince Loki’s giggles subside but the mortified look does not leave my face. Still choking a bit on his laughter, he approaches me. “Lady Y/n, I assure you, you did no harm. I do not mean to offend you, but Thor will not have so much as a bruise on his face, as there was not enough force behind your strike.”

I nod dimly, still in a state of shock. I just punched Thor Odinson. My father will be livid if he ever finds out.

As if he can sense what I’m thinking, Prince Loki softens. “No one will know what has occurred here today. Come sit with me, I think I know of a way to cheer you.”

Doubtfully, I follow him to a set of chairs a few feet away.

“May I borrow your doll?”

I very reluctantly hand him Elsa, my most treasured possession.

Prince Loki wraps his hands around her and closes his eyes, already deep in his concentration. His lips twitch as he mutters something I can’t hear, but when he opens his eyes, Elsa straightens.

I furrow my brows and lean in, confused yet eager to see what will happen next.

Prince Loki sets Elsa on the ground between us and lets go. She begins to dance!

My eyes widen and I can’t help it: I laugh. I laugh and clap in delight until Prince Loki joins me. Our laughter even draws Prince Thor in, and the sight of my dancing doll draws a hesitant smile to his face. This is how Queen Frigga finds us when she comes to summon us to dinner, and I can’t help but notice the happiness behind her eyes.

A/n Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of it and if you would like to be added to the tag list :) 

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/629970408715763712/odins-ward-chapter-2

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99

[breaddaerb]

[ brimstone headcannons I ]

✎↷: here’s some stuff i wrote for giggles and plot! enjoy!

in the early days of valorant where allies were still coming together and partnerships were still being made, the other three agents of valorant would look after brimstone. not in the way that one would babysit a child, but as a ‘thank you for his work’ and the natural role of leadership that the man took everyday. at the time, bonds in the group weren’t very strong, but brimstone would return to his quarters after a long day to see multiple dishes sitting outside of his door with various notes. a bowl of spaghetti from killjoy, a sandwich from viper, and a salad from omen.

a bright yellow post it note was usually slapped onto the ceramic of killjoy’s, saying something like ‘enjoy this!’ or ‘i finished the reports you gave me, so rest up!’ while the other two were in printer and an origami (??) paper. they had their own notes scribbled down on them with something about diagnostics and work that day, and brimstone would smile each time he read them over.

brimstone ate good every night because of them. (and he kept the notes too. they’re in the second bottom cabinet.)

(alternatively, the other members learned about this tradition as they arrived. brimstone would receive more food, with more notes that talked less about work and more about the shenanigans that they’re up to. it got to the point where there was simply too many dishes, and the man had laughed before sitting them all down to share the meals together. he still kept their notes.)

everyone looks up to brimstone in some shape or form. brimstone had the best in mind for the group’s entirety, whether it came to health or going out on the field, and many of their plans and parties had all passed by his watchful eyes. “hey, brim!” jett had once called out to him, “issit’ okay if i go take this bad boy for a drive??” in her hands was a flame-painted remote controlled car, and behind her the loud chatter of what seemed to be raze and phoenix.

brimstone would’ve said that she didn’t need to ask him for something this mundane, and yet, those bright eyes filled with childish need for acceptance - his own approval made his fight weaken a little more. resigned, he gave her a smug smile, patting her shoulder. “i’ll go with ya’, kid, just don’t run it into my feet or it’ll turn inta’ scrap metal.”

brimstone doesn’t need to say that he’s tired. as he’s grown older, past his mid-life, it’s been harder and harder to hide the crinkles next to his eyes and the tired droop of his body at times. but as young as the other agents are, they’re able to be perceptive enough to where they know when they should back off. it goes without saying that brimstone won’t ask for advice, only gives it, but the man finds himself showered in watchful glances and general acts of reassurance. it’s nice, really, to know that this group, this family he made has his back. or at least when they’re not insisting on piggy back rides.

between sage, skye, and brimstone, brimstone could arguably make the best housewife/houseband. he cleans, he looks after everyone, and he can cook some damn great food. most of the meals he makes are simple, something that will tie all of the agents over but still good enough to where they wouldn’t complain about how good or bad at was.

alas, things weren’t always like this. in killjoy’s span of time with him, the man tried cooking everything he had seen and never learned before the german gingerly put her hands over his and told him that no, please don’t make the gravy into custard, and let me cook. which is how brimstone found his expertise: cutting and preparing ingredients for killjoy to cook with, his only one slight flaw in his housewife/houseband agenda.

brimstone’s wardrobe has the most variety out of all of the agents. not because his fashion tastes are out of this world, but because clothing had always been the go-to gift on holidays and birthdays. from ugly christmas sweaters to shakira-worthy sequin shirts to huge shark onesies, brimstone has it all. and especially socks. his collection of socks rivals that of a department store’s.

and like socks, brimstone also owns a lot of mugs. at this point there are a few duplicates of ‘#1 dad’ or ‘best boss’, so it’s become a challenge between the other agents to find more obnoxious versions of the same mug. which, is how brimstone ends up drinking black coffee out of a pure silver chalice with ‘I LOVE MY DAD’ written in neon blue permanent marker on the front of it. this one wins.

[cloudywriter]

i never got to say i love you - 1

~~~

A/N: heyy, so i wrote this like a month ago when i was super into reading some modern university au acotar fanfiction & then i even planned out a whole storyline but then i just kinda sat on it. but i like it so i decided i would just put it out there, i can continue it if people actually like it too.

masterlist & AO3

~~~

Feyre walked along the sidewalk leading to one of the dorm buildings of her new school, Velaris University. 

Although she was focused on lugging her single suitcase behind her as one of the wheels was broken, she couldn’t help but admire the tall impressive structures that surrounded her. She could hear the trickle of the Sidra river to her right while observing the courtyard adjoining multiple dorm buildings to her left. The courtyard was large and pristine, made of stone, with an abstract silver metal statue which stood erect in the middle loosely resembling an infinity sign. The housing units were situated around it in a semicircle.

A path winded down from the courtyard and back towards the main section of campus, organized there were the various department buildings, the cafeteria, admissions, and so on. Feyre was making her way up said path after she retrieved her student key card from the main office. 

She had just transferred from Courts Community College after she finally saved up enough money to afford tuition to VU. 

In her senior year of high school, Feyre visited the small city in which Velaris was located, Prythian, with her school on a field trip. It was on that small excursion she fell in love with the Prythian and the university it had to offer. In particular, Feyre loved the huge art district that occupied nearly a quarter of the city. 

Her family looked down upon her choice of major, art, they told her time and time again that it was impractical and her success rate in the field was microscopic. However, their comments didn’t deter her, she couldn’t imagine studying business or stem as her father suggested, it simply wasn’t for her. She wanted her life’s work to be doing what she loved even if it came with the risk of struggling financially down the road. 

Feyre finally reached the tall double glass doors of the middle building. She grabbed her ID from her jacket pocket and held it up to the scanner. The device beeps three times loudly, flashing a dot of red light. Feyre tries again with the same result. She sighs, did she get a faulty card?

“Turn it around,” a feminine voice suggests from behind her.

Feyre whipped around. There stood a young woman, likely Feyre’s same age. She was breathtakingly pretty with long, bright blonde hair that stopped below her chest and eyes that were a shade darker than honey. She was fairly tall as was Feyre and her demeanor demanded respect. She seemed sure of herself and her looks and capitalized on them. 

“The black bar on the back is only good for your dorm room door, to get in the main entrance you have to scan the front of your ID. I know, it’s weird, took me five minutes to figure it out yesterday,” the woman explained. 

Feyre gave an appreciative smile and nodded, turning her attention back to the scanner which now responded to her with a flash of green. 

“Thank you,” Feyre breathed as she opened the door and held it for the student behind her. The girl strolled through and smiled at her. “It’s no problem.” 

Feyre directed her attention to the slip of paper in her hand, failing to remember where it said her room was. Room 223, Level 3. A blonde head peered over her shoulder. 

“Room 223? You’re right next door to me!” 

Feyre offered her a smile. “Does that mean you’ll show me the way?”

The blonde looked delighted and casually looped her arm through Feyre’s as if they’d been friends for years and led her towards the elevator. This slightly alarmed Feyre, she had never had very many friends let alone pretty girl friends, usually, they weren’t all too kind to Feyre. Despite the fact that her sisters, Nesta and Elain, were rather popular. Nesta easily took on the role of the pretty mean girl, though she wasn’t outwardly mean often. She just radiated the energy and didn’t bother with most people. 

Elain, however, was friends with everybody and was sweet to all who crossed paths with her. She had almost everyone in the school wrapped around her finger, though she had no idea; from the boys who tripped over each other to open the door for her and the girls that scrambled to sit near her at lunch. 

Feyre did have one redeeming quality in high school, well, redeeming person. Her high school sweetheart was Tamlin Spring, the football team’s star quarterback. He was one of the boys in the school that the girls drooled over constantly, but somehow it was Feyre who caught his eye and it was Feyre he asked to accompany him to homecoming. You’d think this high up connection would earn her some credit but no, the girls still teased her, convincing her it had all been a dare. 

Feyre remembers, in a fit of rage and embarrassment, she stomped over to Tamlin’s locker after the last bell and confronted him. It was there he promised her that it was no prank, it was there he first kissed her. Feyre felt like they had clicked until her mother suddenly passed away from an undiagnosed illness, the death leaving an ugly, deep scar carved into Feyre’s and her family’s lives. Feyre’s life took a turn for the worse and with it so did the relationship she shared with Tamlin. 

The gentle ding of an elevator door alerted Feyre before she found herself spiraling too deep into her thoughts. 

Her leader didn’t seem to notice her brooding state as she took Feyre out and to the right, down a decently sized hall. The floor was mostly white tile with dark blue, almost purple tiles making a design down the middle; the walls were painted a light gray and littered with numerous posters. Feyre didn’t have time to read what all the papers said before the woman stopped outside a wooden door, a plate engraved with the numbers 223 to its left. 

“This is your room. I’m just next door in 225.” 

Feyre nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The girl smiled at her and then her face lit up in realization. 

“Oh, my gods! I didn’t even introduce myself!”

Feyre let loose a small smile. “I’m Feyre,” she said at last.

To her surprise, the mysterious girl pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m Morrigan, but I really just go by Mor.” Mor then pulled back, still holding Feyre at arm’s length. 

“My roommate is named Vivane by the way. We dyed her hair silver in the bathrooms last night, you can’t miss her. She’s always hanging out with her boyfriend though, so if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to come find me!” Mor offered politely. 

“Thank you.” Feyre breathed out a little sigh of relief having found my dorm without too much trouble.

A girl down the hall called Mor’s name, she muttered a quick see you later and disappeared into the herd of students and luggage. 

Luckily, Feyre managed to open the door without issue and hauled her suitcase inside. She felt a little silly walking here with such a small amount of stuff, most students had a cart full of their belongings. 

Feyre observed the room, the same white tiled floor and light gray walls as the corridor she just exited. It wasn’t ridiculously small, but it would still be a bit of a squeeze. Nothing Feyre wasn’t used to, having shared a room with her two older sisters growing up. A few boxes and bags were already scattered about on the right side of the room. It was clear her roommate had been here and left. She dropped her black, sticker ridden suitcase on the empty bed, plopping down next to it. 

Both sides of the room were identical, two tall beds held up by drawers pressed against opposing walls, two nightstands, two narrow desks situated at the ends of each bed, and one decently sized wardrobe, all made of the same light creamy wood tone. Rather flimsy-looking violet plastic chairs were also tucked into the desks. 

Feyre began to unpack her clothes into the drawers holding up her bed in an attempt to distract her growing anxiety. She pulled out her bag of art supplies and dropped it on her desk. The bag held a paint set that was on its last leg, paint brushes that were horribly frayed at the ends, both drawing and colored pencils, sad leftover eraser nubs, and her worn leather bound sketchbook. 

The door to her room opened up with a click revealing who could only be her roommate standing on the threshold.

She was on the short side and was relatively curvy. Her skin was a tanned brown and she had dark brunette curly hair that was tied up in a loose bun. They both stood observing each other for a second.

“I see you took advantage of the half-off sale at the uni shop too.” She spoke with a smile, gesturing to the identical, oversized VU sweatshirts they were both wearing over black leggings. 

Feyre returned her smile and nodded. “I’m Feyre.”

I held out my hand which she took instantly with a squeeze, “Alis.”

Feyre felt a sense of relief in Alis’s presence. She had a gentle, calming, almost motherly aura about her. Alis invited Feyre to join her for an early dinner to get to know each other.

The girls entered into a huge room adorned with the same marble looking tiles and gray paint mixed with pillars of dark brick filling the walls where windows were absent. Two of the walls were almost completely glass letting a vast amount of natural light fill the space. Above them, three huge circular lights hung from the high ceiling. Wooden tables of various sizes and the same shade of violet accent color plastic chairs neatly filled the room. Stretching along two of the walls were a number of booths to grab food. 

Feyre and Alis settled on grabbing salads from one called Sabrina’s Kitchen and snatched a table for two near one of the walls of windows. They talked about the usual, their family, where they were from, what they were studying, etc.

Feyre learned that Alis was from the town adjacent to Feyre’s own, Springlee. She used to live there with her sister, her husband, and their two boys. She only left to pursue a degree in education but missed them terribly.

Feyre gave Alis a quick rundown of her own home life, leaving out many details that came with her dysfunctional family and explained she’d transferred after two years at Courts Community, working on an art degree. Alis loved the idea of having an artist as her roommate and insisted Feyre paint pictures to decorate their dorm. 

They’d long since finished their salads but continued chatting as the cafeteria began to fill up nearer to dinner time. 

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t look now but the hottest group of guys just strolled in,” Alis gasped. 

Feyre giggled a little and rolled her eyes, she wasn’t the type of girl to fawn after hot guys anymore with her track record. She did not trust a pretty face. Alis’s eyes were transfixed behind Feyre. 

“Would you like me to grab you a napkin to clean up your drool?” Feyre poked at Alis. 

Alis playfully swatted her hand away. “Just look at them!”

Feyre huffed and turned around in her seat; she didn’t even need to ask for clarification from Alis it was clear who she was referring too. In one of the lines stood a group of three guys, she could hear them laughing and talking from her seat.

She could only see two of their faces, but that was all she needed. They all had similar shades of black or very dark brown hair and tanned complexions, not to mention how fit they all were. One’s hair was shoulder length and half was pulled back in a bun, the other two had shorter hair cut in rather nondescript styles. Though, the quietest one who had his arms crossed over his chest and only said a few words or offered a small smile every now and then had some curl in locks. The last one had his back turned to Feyre but if his backside and friends were any indication she could only assume he was equally as beautiful. 

Noticing Feyre’s prolonged glance, Alis spoke up, “who needs a napkin now?”

Feyre snapped back around and giggled. “Shut up!”

The sheer number of students piling into the room had it near overflowing as Alis and Feyre tore their eyes from the boys and walked back to their dorm. 

They sat on their beds and talked for a while more, mostly making up ridiculous ways to find out who those boys were and how to get their attention. Feyre doodled in her sketchbook while Alis suggested they break into admissions in an attempt to get some information on them, that plan quickly fell apart as she realized they’d need to know more than their faces. 

Eventually, both girls turn in for the night. 

~~~

enjoy, let me know if you want more or not!