#the type of guy to say nothing all day and then grunt out “Wife/Husband” when he sees them again just out of satisfaction

[obsidianary]

Capitano just gives off the biggest Spouse Guy energy ever, like, major sap style Spouse Guy.

Constantly calling his partner "wife"/"husband" just for the sake of it. Blurting it out at random and mumbling it softly while they lay tangled in each other's arms as if saying it out loud confirms it to him. Saying it to try to catch their attention when they're busy because he can't bring himself to interrupt directly. Following them around like a puppy when he has nothing better to do, keeping them close no matter the scenario because he will find every little way possible to show off his Beloved even if it's just by keeping an arm around their waist. Just totally head over heels.

[talaok]

The sweetest remedy

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader

summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it

warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is

"what's wrong?"

He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off

His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.

You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you

"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter

"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"

And of course, he did

Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work

Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,

and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.

You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you

He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.

"tell me what's wrong," you asked again

You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours, 

because that's what he brought to you every single day

He sighed, before nodding slowly

"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"

you didn't pay attention to the last part

"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him

"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs

"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"

The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips

"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.

You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own

"you know I'm right"

He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you

"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"

Ah that's right

Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie

"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek

He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you

"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"

You nodded, watching him closely

"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.

You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away

But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris

"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"

And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,

Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.

A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth

Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring

"y'know what I need babydoll"

God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again

"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter

But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision

"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.

just like he was now.

Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,

his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...

His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.

You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.

His tongue felt good even though the soaked material

"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,

He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,

he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light

That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs

he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole

"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"

He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth

your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.

"Joel- baby- p-please"

but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything

And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.

Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,

the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.

"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"

And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.

He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.

You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating

"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"

You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.

But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead

"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance

"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now

He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered

"You're still sore from this mornin'"

What does that have to do with anything?

"but-"

He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"

And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic

"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood

You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,

but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.

"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did

Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.

And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.

And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done

"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.

God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect

"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate

You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.

the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.

"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth

"yeah doll"

You kissed him again quickly before speaking

"come inside my mouth baby"

Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,

a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there

"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"

"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"

"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding

"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"

"fuck"

you always knew what to say to get him going

"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.

It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.

"Feeling better?" you finally asked

"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"

[faghubby]

FANTASY BECOMES REALITY

Beth and I (Bradley) had role played it a hundred times. We had discussed it. Even thought about who. But it had never been real until one hot July day.

"Why don't you wear this in the pool today?" Beth handed me a light blue speedo. I was very much the long short type of guy. I looked at her in a new bikini that barely covered anything. Her perfect breast practically falling out. And the thong bottom leaving nothing to the imagination. I took the small suit and put it on. When I emerged from the bathroom Beth was waiting.

"Oh I thought you would fill it out more then that?" She teased the pouch was loose on the otherwise tight suit. She tugged at it a little. I grew hard filling the pouch. I loved when she teased me.

"Look he trying to act all grown up" She laughed rubbing me thru the suit. She took a towel and lotion and headed outside. I followed. I applied the lotion all over her. When I finished she started to do the same. She started with me on my back when she got down to the suit she pulled it down some and rubbed lotion all over my ass.

"I invited someone over todsy" She told me. "His name is Mark" She continued. She showed me her phone she had been sexting him. As I read I got more and more excited. I scrolled to see a pic of him naked. He was a tall big black man and between his legs looked like a baseball bat.

"Role over" Beth told me.

"He is coming today?" I asked

"Hopefully several times" Beth laughed. Her hand pulled down the tiny suit and she jerked me off with the suntan lotion. As she rubbed some into my chest and legs. She stopped short several times of letting me cum. Then her phoned chimed and she jumped up and ran to the front door. A few minutes had passed I went to check on her. I found her on her knees in the middle of the kitchen with this man's huge cock half way down her throat.

"This is Bradley, my husband" Beth stopped only long enough to introduce me. Not sure what to do I shook his hand.

"Mark" he said returning the handshake. We both watched Beth take more and more of his cock down her throat.

"She can really deep throat" Mark said. Then looked at me. And laughed

"Well you wouldn't know would you?"

"Would you like me to fuck her by the pool, so all the neighbors can see? Or take her to the bedroom?" He asked me.

"The bedroom" I answered barely more then a whisper.

"OK then why don't you work on your tan lines" he told me. Pulling Beth to her feet he took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. I wanted to watch but understood and went outside by the pool. I could hear them through the open window. Beth was loud and vocal. Begging and moaning. Mark's manly grunts could not be mistaken for anything but sex either. My dick was harder then it had ever been yet I realized the tiny suit still held me completely. It was over an hour before Mark emerged outside. He grabbed some cold drinks.

"Your wife needed a good fucking" he told me. Then went back inside.

"Thank you" I called after him not knowing what else to say. A few minutes later the sounds of sex once again filled the air. It was after lunch when they both emerged. Beth looked ragged and tired. They jumped in the pool. Beth only wearing the bottom of her bikini.

"Bradley, why don't you make us some lunch" Beth called out. I got up and did just that grilling up some burgers and chicken. Beth and Mark lounged in the sun. Next to each other. I served then lunch and cold drinks. Beth reached up and touched my throbbing erection and I exploded in my suit. She was shocked and laughed.

"Wow, that didn't take much. Jump in the pool and get cleaned off she said standing and pulling off my suit. I stood naked in front of her and Mark. In my backyard. Beth took the suit and went inside. I dove in the pool mostly to hide. Beth returned holding another suit.

"Here try these no bulge needed" She giggled and tossed me her pink bikini bottom. Without getting out of the pool I pulled them on. Then got out to show her.

"They fit much better cucky" She told me. I had to admit they did. Beth then handed me the top. I frowned. Then looked back at her. She was serious.

"You know you should" She told me. Mark just laid there with a smile. I laid out in her bikini across from them. I watched as Mark mounted her right on the longe chair I watched as his cock worked like a piston bounding in and out of Beth her pussy stretched around it. Her moans and cries as she orgasmed twice before he filled her with his seed. Then he got up rised off in the pool and left. Beth just laid there naked cum leaking from her red swollen pussy. She motioned for me to join her. I came over and laid where Mark had been I could still feel the sweat and heat of his body on the chair.

"So I really happened" Beth said playing with my hair.

"Yes, are you ok?" I asked

"Very much so" She cooed. "There is another part of the fantasy, do you want to?" She asked looking down her body. I nodded

"You don't have to baby" She told me. But I already ahead my face buried in her cum filled crotch. Mark's cum was strong and pungent as liked it off of her. I tried to be gentile as she was sore but drove my tounge deep trying to get it all. Beth actually fell asleep before I finished. I covered her and went inside the bedroom was a mess. The sheets had several spots of dried fluids his and hers. So I changed the sheets and threw them in the washer. Beth woke and came inside. Where filled the tub and let her take a long soothing bath. I made her a lite dinner of salad and fruit. We ate and talked about the day.

"You look very cute in your bikini" Beth giggled. I was still wearing it.

"Do you want to see him again?" I asked

"Maybe, maybe someone different" She told me.

We spent the rest of the evening just holding each other. Beth turned at one point and said.

"I may never let you inside me again, what do think of that?"

"I understand now that I have seen what a real man can do" I told her

I went to bed that night knowing I never had to worry about pleasing her ever again.

[tenkasato]

Be Someone Else

Scenario: Kise wished he could be of more use to you. Being a medical frontliner in this pandemic was never going to be easy after all.

Warnings: mentions of insecurity issues, nudity (not graphic, SFW)

Pairing: Kise Ryouta x doctor!Reader

His skin was still perfect.

If his oldest make up artist was still with him, he had no doubt she’d compliment him for not aging even a year since she had first handled him. And it was all thanks to the collection of imported skincare products he had religiously applied to his face every single day without fail. Ryouta gave his reflection the magazine cover smile he was best known for, adding a wink to turn up the volume of his appeal. “Seriously? I’m right here if you want to seduce someone.” His smile grew wider and brighter at the slightly jealous tone dripping out of your joking tone. He turned around to glance at his wife who was seated at the center of the bed with your legs folded, your attention now on your phone. “So, does Akashicchi agree with your hypothesis?” he asked as he slapped some moisturizing cream on his cheek. “He didn’t say anything about it. We just talked about my well-being.” “Your well-being?” He arched his brows. “Yeah, like how I’m holding up and how I’m feeling. We didn’t talk much about the progress of the research like I thought we would,” you answered, the relief in your voice unmistakable. Ryouta gave you a side eye in the mirror. He was glad Akashi was maximally understanding of your situation and to his surprise, the guy could calm you down whenever you had been on the verge of a mental breakdown. The blond could always somehow sense it before it happened. His sixth sense, he called it. Knowing you for all these years allowed him to notice the subtlest signs of your unravelling even as you kept them at bay with peerless expertise. When you had wanted to, that was. It also helped that you loosened your restraints in front of him. He just wondered whether your red-headed childhood friend was given the same privilege as he had.

“I feel like he’s already investigating the matter,” you said as you rested your chin on top of your hand with your eyes still glued on whatever was on the phone. “Whether he believes me or not, Seijuro-kun won’t take any chances.” He opened his mouth to speak but no word was able to articulate itself as he stared at his reflection in dismay. What can he say, anyway? His used up words of assurance, empty promises that had no basis—all meant to make you feel even a bit better because he wanted her to know you weren’t alone. But he was helpless and there was nothing he could do, unlike Akashi or your fellow doctor Midorima. “Akashicchi sure is a monster. If we're in a movie, he’s the type of guy who’d star as a mafia boss or Japanese James Bond,” he joked instead as he smoothed out some anti-aging cream under his eyes with more force than needed. “Oh, like when you played as Taka Kenhiro in ‘Modern Samurai’ or Alias Gambino in ‘The Specialist’?” you perked up. Ryouta blinked and turned around. "Wow, looks like my wifey knows all my movies by heart." Laughter poured freely out of your lips as you made her way to him. He felt your arms snake around his neck as you bent your back to give him an embrace from the back. You inhaled his scent before nipping on his earlobe. "How can I not memorize all your films and roles? You forced me to watch all your ‘masterpieces’ after we got married. I had to bear with my temper watching, for your information. You were never single in each movie, mind you." He gently patted his face and inspected his appearance from the mirror. "It's practice for you. So, you won't get unnecessarily jealous of other women." "How cunning and thoughtful of you, dear husband," you grunted sarcastically. You walked backwards when he stood up, finally done with his evening ritual. "Sit down, and take your clothes off." "Huh?" you asked in confusion before whining, "Oh, come on. We just did it. And we just took a bath. Maybe tomorrow—" "It's not what you think," he snapped impatiently and ended up shoving you to bed where your body bounced upon collision. Your agitated yelp was ignored as he turned his back and marched towards his cabinet. "Just do as I say." You grumbled unintelligible words of complaints with some insults directed towards him, but complied anyway. By the time he swivelled around to you, the oversized sleepwear you had earlier worn was now folded neatly by the foot of your bed. The frosted glass bottle in his hand caught your attention as you ruffled your damp hair. "I'm glad they had your favorite," he told you before you asked. "It's Lavender oil. My co-workers suggested this brand to me." You observed the bottle for a moment, then you looked at him with a question mark practically drawn on your face. "You're...going to give me a massage?" You were answered with a nod filled with excitement. You gasped in a dramatic manner, cupping your face with both hands to imitate an overtly grateful child, eyes glowing at the mere prospect of having a treat tonight. "Really? I mean, you're exhausted from work, too. You don't have to..." "Being bashful doesn't suit you, you know?" he laughed, gesturing at you to lie down already. "I'm more used to the crazy, needy lady who demands me to—" "I get it. I get it," you interrupted and lied flat on your stomach. "Just get on with it." "That's more like it." Ryouta squirted a few drops of the oil on his palm, rubbed his hands together and proceeded on gliding his hand across your back lightly. He added some pressure after a few seconds, his effort rewarded with a sigh of extreme satisfaction and pleasure. He did some circular motions with the heel of his palm at the upper portions of your back and started to feel the heat caused by the friction of his skin against yours. "Tell me if you want a stronger pressure," he instructed. "No, no," you weakly replied, the smile evident in your voice. "That feels mighty fine." Thankfully, the time he spent on watching video of massage tutorials on the internet was paying off. His copying techniques also helped him a bunch. He seriously hadn't thought he'd be able to ever apply his capabilities in tasks such as this, but he's never been more grateful than now. Pressing his palms onto your lower back, he let out a sigh and lifted out his thumbs. He began to do alternate kneading motions as he went progressively up towards your neck. You used to do this to him, too, he suddenly recalled. The concentration in your eyes boring through his calf as you had stroked his leg expertly, careful as not to apply too much force all the while ignoring his sweat. That time, it felt like it was only the two of you in the court. If it really had been only you, he was sure he would've seized you by the shoulders and smashed his lips onto yours. Even back then, he bitterly thought, it was always you who worked hard for him. Looking back to now, he wondered if there was anything he was able to do for you, to lighten the problems he himself had caused. He was there when his fans spoke behind your back, but did he ever do anything significant to have them back off permanently? He wanted to protect you, but until now, he had no idea how. He wasn't a medical doctor who could help her conceptualize and brainstorm like Midorima. He wasn't an influential boss who had an entire fleet at his disposal like Akashi. Useless and worthless. He couldn't think of any other words that were more fitting. "Baby?" he called out, taken aback with the broken sound of his voice. He waited for a response, but it seemed like you had fallen asleep already, your soft, steady breathing was an enough indication. Ryouta closed his eyes briefly before leaning down to plant a chaste kiss in between your shoulder blades. He got up to head to the bathroom and washed his hands. Upon raising his head, his eyes connected with the golden irises that stared back at him in the mirror. Instantly, he felt repugnance towards himself, his "beautiful" face, his smooth skin, his "perfect" features, because they were all he had, and his appearance wasn't going to help you bear the bone-crushing weight of responsibilities. He clenched his teeth and dragged himself back to the bed. He covered your bodies with the comforter and gingerly placed his arm around your waist. The lavender scent gave him a wave of relaxation, but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety and regret that squeezed his chest. For the first time in his life, Kise Ryouta desperately wished he was someone else.

Just a pinch of angst here. This is dedicated to all frontliners during the pandemic. And now, I’m not trying to send across a message saying medical or health care workers are the only important key people during the pandemic. Everyone is essential, alright? So, thank you everyone! On another side note, this fic was also inspired by headcanons and character analysis alluding to Kise’s inferiority complex. I mean, sure he is confident in his own rights, but he’s shown subtle hints of insecurity through-out the manga/anime. I somehow wanted to write about it, so this onseshot came to me. Hope you enjoyed it! (IDK why Kise always takes the brunt of my angst fics)

[banana-milkbread]

Bnha pro-heros x gender neutral reader

Warming : Nsfw and fluff so be aware...!!!!!!

.

. (Pls don't copy my work , reblogs are very very welcomed and love u guy's hope I made you day kinda!! ) Stay safe

Aizawa

The type to worship your body and kiss every inch of it , he will trace and kiss every stretch marks on you and remind you that you are perfect to him and that you are beautiful in the inside and the outside , and then he will fuck u till your senseless and covered in cum , sweat and marks where there are only visible to him and only.

Fatgum

Nice and quiet cuddles in the evening while watching a TV series/movie with a tone of snacks and will praise you every opportunity he has , even when you are a complete mass under him while his making you see stars with his huge ass dick , you will always be fuckin gorgeous to him.

All might

Bear hugs and sweet kisses anytime he see you , will lift you up and spin you around when he is in his big buffy form and half way almost drops you when he strings , always brings an extra lunch for you and head pats you , and then will fuck you slowly with all his love on his desk till you are a drooling mess underneath him ( will probably ruin every paperwork on his desk with sweat and cum owo ).

Present Mic (his a bottom , can't change my mind)

Will learn your favorite song and sing it to you till you fall asleep,

He will constantly show you off to everyone and flex that he has a s/o like you " yeah , DO YOU want to know what my beautiful and stunning s/o made for me yesterday for dinner?! " Or " oh!! HERE GOES MY HUSBAND/WIFE !! look at them , they are gorgeous isn't it??!! " , Loves saying your name even in bed , he is a whiney mess under you , tries to speak but the only things that comes out of his mouth are moans and grunts , wants to be slapped by you and degradation is his forplay , will act like nothing happened after sex and brag about how good he was.

Hay , i know it's kinda bad but i still post it sooooo yeha.

Hope u like it ;)

[gumnut-logic]

Census

After my little hissy fit last night about not being able to write, I spent all day today doing exactly that. 5000 words later and we have this rambling fic. I had to fill in our Census today, so I figured the Tracys could too. It went places I did not expect.

There are a couple of anachronisms in this fic. It is based in 2060 for census reasons, but I mention at least two characters interacting with the Tracys from later seasons. Please ignore and enjoy anyway :D

There are also a couple of vague references to ship, but no real ship, I promise.

Thank you in particular to @katblu42​ and @willow-salix​  and the other members of Thunderfam who kindly checked on on me last night while I was bemoaning my inability to write. Sorry if I was exasperating. I have a degree in that. If it helps, no one gets more annoyed with me than I do ::hugs you lots::

Rambly, mostly brotherly conversations and doesn’t really go anywhere, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

���Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.”  Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

[floosies]

The Professor and I

pairing: professor!Tom x poc!oc!fem

summary: A conversation can lead into a million things. These things can turn into the best decisions ever made.

warnings: age gap (character 25, Tom 39) , smut, cursing, fluff

taglist: @honeychicana @lex-the-flex @ronimina

A/N: just wanna say I had a blast on this small project and revisiting my first mcu crush as well as releasing some fic ideas I had in mind while the loki show ran. Thank you guys so much for the love and I hope you really enjoy this final chapter. xo.

Carpe Diem

She started work in late October and he was well into beginning a script for an english film. Did that stop them from having plans for themselves underway? No, and just like that they had prepped a day to elope.

They didn't want the whole fuss of wedding day plans and schedules for everyone. They just wanted each other and nothing more. City hall was only some miles away. It rained on the day, but for some reason it felt perfect. Once everything was signed and the pair had left the building the laughter and smiles on their faces were impossible to get rid of.

In an interesting turn of events her husband had made a change for the evening. As they ate their celebratory dinner at the Michelin star restaurant he'd read about, Tom suggested, "we should go explore the night life...what would you say to going to a night club?" Sonya raised an eyebrow, "really? Filled with people much younger than you?" He shrugged, "why not?" She giggled, "okay then." He reached for his glass of wine and lifted it, she returned the gesture and they toasted to the wild idea.

Arriving to a rooftop club they'd heard about from one of her old friends, they saw the rain had ended and the place was busy. She'd never taken him for a dancer or someone who would enjoy those types of spaces. However, he proved her wrong as he led her into the dance floor. The music was booming and laser lights hit everywhere making the atmosphere around them feel so alive.

Drinks started making rounds and the more they downed, the more provocative it all became. She'd worn a silk dress for the night and the smoothness of fabric allowed for his hands to roam everywhere. All the while she danced against. They had some kisses which tasted of fruity liquor and their eyes were full blown with lust.

Luckily for them there was no security to guard the washrooms. Escaping into a stall the married pair began to somewhat undress each other. She couldn't help but giggle as she undid the zipper of trousers, "I never took you as the type to do dirty things in a night club." He turned around hiking up her dress and moving her panties to the side, "my wife is a temptress and I cant get enough of her." His voice somewhat muffled lowly into her skin as he began entering her while placing sloppy kisses over her shoulder.

Her head rolling back onto his shoulder as he began to thrust into her. They were practically deviants, but it felt too good and too fun for her to say anything. His hands found their way to her breasts. Her quiet whimpers and moans kept him going. He could feel her tightening around him. With a desperate need for release she weakly whispered to him, "harder. I'm almost there." With another rut of his hips he grunted, "almost there too dove." Then it happened, his mouth letting out a broken cry all the while her legs quivered.

They dressed as quickly as possible in hopes of not getting caught. Thankfully the music was still booming and the people were still locked onto the dancefloor. Fleeing the scene they laughed like schoolchildren about what they'd just done.

-

It'd been well into December, months later after their little mischief. Though she never finished her mastery, she was becoming a prodigy under her new boss in the MET. Tom already having made a name of himself in the writing business was now taking on new ventures into producing and directing.

Behind their successes though was an interesting and mostly quiet love story. People sometimes raised an eyebrow, but around their scene it was usually taken well. Many of Sonya's friends and family were actually quite pleased with the man she chose. Tom's kin were quite happy that'd he found someone who he could actually smile with.

New York had also become their safe haven and escape. It was a mix of their old homes respectively. They planned to move into a bigger place the following year. The pictures of them and their friends all around their current flat, began to fill certain rooms.

At times, they still think back to the odd way they finally had a proper chat. They even wonder what happened to poor George and if he ever graduated. She jokes he probably whined his way to his mastery. Still, they're continuing to know each other more than the day before.

The flame never dies, they go on dates and sometimes think about possibly having a family. On other days when its all too overwhelming he recites his favorite soliloquies or poems to her before bed. She'll sit and listen to him go on and on when he's either upset or fully entranced on a subject or work. It never gets easier, but it's never hard work either. They love each other, they found each other, they made happiness where they might have otherwise only ever been academic achievements.

Fin.

[jaskierswolf]

The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand. 

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

 J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

 G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

 G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

 G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

Next

[another-stark-sub]

You and Tony trying for a baby and tony is reeeeeeaallllllyyyyy into it 👀

Oh breeding kin huh? Im into that. We are being filthy tonight! And im loving it! 18+ nsfw ahead, smut and breeding kink and possessiveness

Tonys vision of the future changed quite a few times throughout his lifetime. Hes thought of being a single bachelor for the rest of his life, maybe being dead in a ditch at a young age, but as hes grown, he started wanting more

That stereotypical white picket fence and 2.5 kids. While it wasnt his ideal, he did like the idea of settling down, having kids, living away from the city but still surrounded by his own inventions and embracing his eccentricities

And then you

You were perfect. He fell in love with you the day he asked you for something and you placed it two inches within his reach. Apparently, you had just known him well enough that even though he had never asked you before, you knew what to do

And boy, did you two go through ups and downs. He had abandonment issues, PTSD, daddy issues, and you had your own problems too. Of course he pushed you away at times, thinking youre too good for him

But the two of you always managed to talk things out, choose each other again and again

So when it got to the point that he was confident in himself enough to realize that even if he wasnt worthy that youd always choose him

Thats when it got possessive

Thats when the types of sex started to include jealous sex, the repetition of "mine" "my girl" "all for me" started

And it was fucking hot

To see his dilated pupils, so wide with wonder and lust and awe, as he tried his best to mark you. Hickies, bite marks sometimes, the ring

You guys had promise rings before getting engaged and married, a sign that you were each other's no one else's.

So when you were finally Mrs. Stark and both of you had discussed having kids

Well Tony hid his excitement. Just the thought of you getting that pregnancy glow, showing off a belly bump that he helped make, a sign that you were his.

Fuck, it was hard for him not to pounce you when you talked about having kids with him

So the two of you agreed. No condoms, no birth control. You guys had constant sex anyway. It will happen when it does

"Mhm, yep it will happen when it happens."

You smiled. "Exactly." You were ready to snack or watch a movie. Every heavy conversation abt the future warranted some lighthearted activities.

"What about now?"

You laughed. "Now?" Your laughter quieted when yoh realized he wasn't laughing with you. And when you opened your eyes, your husband was very close to you.

Fuck, youve been with that man for years, and every time he does that thing with his eyes you swear he does it on purpose you cant help but feel needy.

Tony Stark is already sexy, but when hes staring at you like youre the sexiest woman whos ever lived, well, how could you not be turned on?

"Hi, sweetheart."

You gulped. "H-Hi."

He chuckled. "That's all youre gonna say?"

"Uh." Your brain was short circuiting. He was so close to you. Every time he exhaled, you could feel his breath on your lips. "Well" -you shuddered- "maybe, something like, kiss me?"

"You sound unsure."

"Please kiss me."

He smirked. "Of course." He kissed you and goddamnit every kiss with this man turned into a makeout session.

Tony carried you to the bed, the two of you stripping on ghe way there until Tony was just had his pants, and you were in your underwear.

He pinned you to the bed, kissing you hard and littering a few lovebites high on your neck. One of his hands was palming your tits while the other was trying to get rid of your underwear

By the time you were naked, his hand was between your thighs. "God, baby, you're soaked."

"Just for you."

His eyes darkened and he plunged two fingers into you, rendering you speechless. "Yeah, just for me."

He stared at how his fingers went inside and slipped out and smiled. "I cant wait to lock my seed inside of you. Youll be all mine then, huh?"

"Already yours," you said through your moans.

"I know, baby, but now whenever Capsicle sees you, he'll know what I did to you." He rubbed your clit and watched with wknder how you gasped and whined for more. "That I fucked you and took no precautions. That the baby growing inside here" -he rubbed your g spot to emphasize- "is all mine."

"Fuck, Tony, please."

"Please what? I wanna hear you say it." He took his fingers out and you nearly screamed and how empty you felt.

"Please... please fuck a baby into me?"

He smiled, almost deviously like a mastermind with a plan, and toom his place above you. "Want me to fuck a baby into you?"

You nodded. "Please."

He nodded. "Well, since you asked." He pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock before sliding home.

Youve gone bare before, but knowing there was nothing stopping the two of you from getting pregnant with his child was a whole new level of exhilaration.

He didnt waste any time fucking you. He went hard enough that you could hear the slaps of his thighs against yours and the squelching of your juices along with the moans and grunts.

"Fuck, you're mine!" He kissed you and whispered against your lips. "Mine to kiss, to fuck." And with a particularly hard thrust, "to breed. My girls finally gonna carry a part of me with her. All. The. Time."

"Tony! Ah, please I want it."

"Want it? Want my cum, huh? Does my greedy little slut want my cum?"

You were nodding. It was hard to tell since you were bouncing up and down as he thrust in and out. "Please, I want your cum."

"Mm, don't worry youll get it. Youve been such a great wife, and youll be the best mom to our kid." He laughed and reached down to press into your clit, enjoying the way you flailed against him. As he began to rub circles onto your button, he commanded, "Come on, cum for me. Squeeze my cock. Take what's yours."

With his constant fucking, his fingers rolling that bundle of nerves, and his words touching your lips, you came hard, squeezing around his cock.

Tony couldn't handle feeling you pulse around him. "So fucking tight." He kept thrusting through his and your orgasm. "Take it, take my cum."

Sex with Tony was always amazing, if not sweet and sleepy, but that was something else.

Especially since shortly after mentally deciding to sleep underneath him with his cock inside you, he thrust into you again. "Tony!"

"Its ok, baby." He kissed your forehead and said, "Just gonna make sure, ok?" before thrusting into you again.

Safe to say, Tony made sure you were pregnant, even if it took several hours to do so

[otomegema]

Title: Convergence Theory, ch. 3 summary: Transitional chapter GET. Aka, the one where reader meets Gojo's students a little more and I show off some of her powers and set up some future uh-- issues. That might effect the would-be couple. I'm just rolling with it. pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader rating: mature Ao3 Link (We are uh-- up to ch. 11 on Ao3 just fyi)

Weird did not even begin to describe the feeling that went through your chest and flipped in your stomach as you closed the door on your hotel room, bags in hand, and went downstairs to meet your new roommate in the lobby.

No.

New fiancé.

A fact Gojo was delighting in explaining to the hotel staff, animatedly conjuring from the depths of his mind some new bullshit on how you met. How he proposed. Some of the girls at the station were near puddles of envy. Others, happily told you how “lucky” you were as you handed off your keycard and checked out.

You had managed not to scowl the entire time, but just barely.

“You’re gonna have to send me a spreadsheet of all these lies just so I can keep up.” You muttered, swinging your bag into the open trunk of the car that had arrived to pick you both up. Oddly, the driver was not the same as the one from the other night. The man in question looked nervously in his rear view mirror, but also with an intense amount of curiosity.

“I already forgot um. Besides, not like we need one for the Gojo clan. They already know how we met.”

Gojo didn’t bother to get the door for you this time, sliding into the back seat without waiting for you to finish loading the car. You took your own spot, mirroring him in taking out your phone to check your latest messages. The driver would occasionally exchange looks with you in the mirror. You gave him a polite smile.

“Principal will wanna meet with you,” Gojo said abruptly, “I had my guys put in your rec already. Just let him know you want me as your mentor and when he brings me the request I’ll sign off.” Gojo didn’t even look up from his phone, “Old man will probably faint. I haven’t agreed to babysit anyone in—“

He paused, but only for a second.

“—Awhile!”

“Too busy?” You asked.

“Too much of a pain in the ass. And after, you can unpack your stuff at my place. I have a room on campus too, probably will spend the majority of my time there when I’m not on mission.”

“When we are not on mission.” You added with a smirk. Gojo sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. You enjoy this while it lasts, I’m already planning our next ‘date’ and you can bet before I’m done with planning the third one the family will demand a visit.” Gojo grinned, “When was the last time you’ve been?”

You groaned, the sound drawing a chuckle from Gojo. He knew damn well when the last time you were invited was.

“Do I get to plan any dates?”

He scoffed, “Why would you wanna?”

It was a fair point. You shrugged and turned to look out the window, admiring the view of trees and the greenery that surrounded Jujutsu Tech. Your days as a student were long over, but there was still so much protocol, so many hoops and tests and missions to jump through. If they had warned you being a sorcerer was like being a forever-student… maybe some of the others had it right. Ditching the school and the rules and wandering as independents. There was an allure to just throwing in the towel— but how would anything ever change if you just left?

You wondered if Gojo felt the same way, his personality not exactly meshing with the idea of a dutiful and obedient Jujutsu sorcerer. He was smiling lazily to himself as he typed on his phone and you found yourself content to just enjoy the silence.

The campus was not foreign to you and so you rebuffed Gojo’s offer to walk you in. Besides, if they came in together it might be too much of a tip off. There was no rule about the relation between a potential first-grade and their mentor, but given his tendency to rub the higher ups the wrong way, you didn’t want to risk any bumps. It was bad enough whoever that driver was had clearly heard you both talking. He seemed to be a staff member.

Passing through the halls though, you had the distinct feeling you were being watched— and definitely not by Gojo. If he was keeping tabs on you, you’d never know.

The cursed energy signatures were familiar, young and new, yet strong. You slid around a corner, barely flexing your Limitless to teleport around behind your spies, hiding out of sight.

“Wha— did we lose her?” The young boy with the pink hair gaped, rushing around the corner and then back, “I don’t see her!”

“Dummy, she probably heard you mouth breathing a mile away.” The girl muttered, slapping her fist into her hand with a disappointed grunt.

The other tall young man said nothing, his eyes drawn down into almost apathetic sleepiness.

“Why were we following her anyway?”

“Didnt you hear, Megumi? She is Gojo-sensei’s wife!”

“Fiancé, Yuji. Not wife.” The girl corrected.

“Fiancé, wife, girlfriend— whatever! Point is, how did we not know about her?! Who marries a guy like that anyway, she has to be crazy strong!!”

“She didn’t do so well on that last mission.” Megumi added, his voice flat. You winced slightly at his assessment. That was your cue. Shifting your energy, you appeared behind Megumi, forcing a tense, but still sufficiently bright smile unto your lips.

“That’s because my rat future-husband was busy showing off for his students!”

Megumi, to his credit, only stiffened. The other two openly shrieked at your arrival, the boy Yuji swiftly switching to an expression of awe.

“She moves like Gojo-sensei! I didn’t know she could do that!”

“Lots of people can do this… can’t believe he gets away with acting all high and mighty…” you grumbled.

You swore you heard a muffled sneeze from somewhere behind you, but your attention was suddenly wholly on Gojo’s two more animated students as they crowded into your space. Nobara Kugisaki— that was the girls name. And Itadori Yuji. The other boy you knew even before the mission was Megumi Fushiguro. Gojo’s longest running student and “ward” of a sort. Plus, he had affiliation with the Zenin. The Gojo clan liked to pretend it was as important, but even with the Six Eyes, there was no contest over which clan held the most power.

“Aren’t you a Gojo too? You have the Limitless right?” Yuji continued, smiling. This was Sukuna’s vessel? He seemed far too simple and far too sweet.

“Distantly. And yes.”

“That is so cool. You must be super strong.”

“I’m— I do okay.” You said, finding the praise a bit hard to accept. Sure in comparison to other third, fourth and even some of your fellow second-grade sorcerers you were notably talented— but how could anyone even judge such a thing when your true comparison was Gojo Satoru?

“When that curse hit ya? I thought— yikes. She is done for. But you barely had a mark on you!”

“Yeah, how did you dodge it? Oh! Can you do the thing?!” Nobara extended her hand, pressing her palm outward in what took you a minute to understand was a mimic of Gojo’s barrier technique.

You smiled faintly and lifted up your own hand. Nobara grinned as she tried to reach out and touch her fingertips to your own and she was stopped just short, hovering and wavering slightly in infinitely slowed movement.

“Neat.”

“I wanna try!” Yuji exclaimed and you happily demonstrated for the young man as well. Shockingly, you had to increase your output a little to repel him.

“I can’t have it up all the time, but it does help in a pinch.” You said and were surprised when Megumi finally spoke up.

“You make it sound like that somehow makes it less powerful.”

Had you? Your tone when talking about your abilities was always reserved. Cautious. You had no reason to gloat— no right to it. You masked your inner reflection behind a terse smile and offered your hand to Megumi.

“You wanna turn?”

The boy flushed.

“I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you going to be around campus today? Are you coming to our lesson?” Yuji asked, Nobara perking at the idea too.

“Maybe. I have to meet with the principal, but I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”

Satisfied with that, they wished you luck and departed, Nobara and Yuji falling again into animated conversation as Megumi steadily followed behind. It would be nice maybe to take part in a lesson or two… you hadn’t given the idea of teaching much thought, but just working with Gojo’s students you were starting to think you were getting the appeal of it.

Especially if you were one who loved to be adored, you thought with a scoff, wondering where Gojo had run off to if his students had been following you.

Dealing with principal Masamichi was a short affair. You accepted the recommendation news with humble gratitude and made your intention of being mentored by Gojo known. You were prepared to ignore the tension that seemed to permeate the atmosphere the moment you did so.

Masamichi simply stated he would let Yoshinobu know of the transfer. There would be no objections from Tokyo.

You could only imagine that your former principal would have something to say about all this— but he and the higher ups had done little to assist you in achieving first-grade status. Perhaps now they would realize they did not hold the keys to every door forward in their world.

Feeling strangely smug and self-satisfied, you left the office and set out to find the three students. It wasn’t difficult. Barely expanding your awareness of energy brought the familiar bright ray of Gojo into your mind. He was easy enough for you to find, you’d been doing it unwillingly all your life.

Near the outskirts of the woods that surrounded Jujutsu Tech you found Gojo shockingly studentless, sitting on the ground and playing what you could only imagine was an extremely high level of Candy Crush.

“Aren’t you suppose to be teaching?”

“I am! Kids are chasing a couple of third grade curses around the woods!”

“… and what are they learning?”

“Optimistically? How to dodge. Those things shoot out some kind of energy thing that definitely looks like it would sting.”

Gojo rapidly tapped across the screen, ending the level in record time before stashing his phone and leaning back on his palms. He tilted his head back at you with his usual smirk.

“You get your semi-grade one status?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” He stood, brushing off his pants, “Now we can start your lesson! But first, I wanna see your baseline.”

He cracked his knuckles and then lazily stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Hit me with your strongest technique.”

“…what, like right now? Now, now?” You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, Gojo was a loose cannon in every sense of the word.

“Now, now, babe.”

You scowled, the furrowing of your brow only seeming to make him smile brighter.

“C’mon. You won’t get me and you know it. Just hit me with your best Limitless technique.”

“My best Limitless technique is non-combative.” You said wryly, wishing you had chosen to wear slacks that day instead of a skirt. Your own uniform was a modified version of the Jujutsu Tech one from your time spent as a sort of “adjunct” instructor. This was definitely not your practice outfit.

“Is it?” Gojo asked, humming thoughtfully. Was he being purposefully obtuse? Most likely, yes.

“Show me your best combative technique.”

You knew what he was getting at. Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue. It was, without utilizing reversals, the strongest technique a Limitless user could achieve— or at least Gojo had made it so. You could do it, sure, but you were not sure on how long you’d be standing upright after you did. All your previous attempts to master the technique usually ended in you taking a sudden and unplanned nap. At best, the output was a little weaker, but sometimes you could hold unto consciousness and only be tapped for the rest of the day.

“I’ll faint.” You said quietly and Gojo lifted his hand to cup his ear, grinning.

“What was that?”

You huffed, “I’ll faint.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“I’m sorry, is this your technique or mine?”

Gojo gave a small shrug, “Obviously mine. You're just a knock-off.”

“Ya know, I activated my Limitless abilities before you.”

“I mighta heard something like that once— Now hit me.” Gojo took a few steps back, crooking his finger at you, “Come on, come one. Don’t be so boring. I have to know what your capable of it you are going to come on missions with me.”

“This is a terrible idea.” You grumbled, but swung out your shoulders, breathing out slowly to mentally prepare yourself if anything.

“Maybe! But like I said, I gotta know just how weak you are.” Gojo said, mirth in his voice— and mocking.

“I’m not weak.” You snapped out before you could real in your tongue, feeling your neck flush.

“You just said you can’t even do the base technique of our ability without fainting.” Gojo gestured his hand out as he gave another little shrug, “Kinda seems super weak to me.”

“I’m not you.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t."

Okay. Fine. He wanted you to hit him? You’d hit him. Your cursed energy had already flared up, irritation giving way to anger as you opened that channel within your memory and your emotions— focusing it until all that bitterness, all that rage was nothing more than a battery for you to use to fuel your own jujutsu.

You knew Gojo would be fine, but for a moment, you nearly faltered. Having someone ask you to basically collapse them apart with the cursed equivalent of a black hole? Not exactly a normal every day occurrence.

“C’mon! Stop thinking about hitting me and hit me! Unless you wanna renegotiate our deal… hell, maybe it would be easier for both of us if I just paid your rent instead. I don’t know how I’m gonna manage to get someone so pathetic to first-grade.”

You were going to kill him.

You were going to rip the eyes from his skull and spit them out at the dinner table of the main family, teeth and gums bloody.

“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”

The cursed energy ripped not out from your body, but in. Focusing around Gojo as it manipulated space, dividing it down to the negative and seeking out to rend him apart. The area of effect was like a circle, but you pinpointed at his eyes regardless. Targeting what excess energy was left to his face.

The blast of blue sent clouds of dirt and grass into the air— or what was once dirt and grass. Having been nearly crushed into nothing, the debris shot around in fine powdered ash. When the air cleared, Gojo was standing where he had been before, entirely untouched.

Except for his blindfold.

One end had twisted, the fabric swirling up so tightly it was risen up against his forehead and revealing one bright, blue eye. It had gotten caught in part in the curling shrinking energy of the technique, but not enough to destroy it.

You let out a breath, stunned to find you were still standing.

“See?” Gojo said cheerfully, “Just a little motivation and you—“

The last thing you saw before everything went black was the ground suddenly rushing up to your face.

The low painful rumble of your stomach woke you, awareness of your body coming back in small waves. There was something soft tucked under your head… and your legs were elevated, knees curled around something.

You opened your eyes to the bright, unforgiving sky above and groaned loudly.

“Rise and shine, honeybun.”

His very voice made you wanna faint again just to get away from him.

“Really. Honey bun. Here, eat.”

A packaged sweet was tossed unto your stomach and you sat up enough to recognize the thing your legs were swung over was Gojo’s own lap. His phone was in one hand, the familiar blips and tones of a game audible. His other was rested on your knee, pressing down to help support your efforts to sit up.

He had taken off his jacket and put it behind your head, the white sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up around his elbows. Judging by the absence of his blindfold and the return of his sunglasses, he hadn’t been able to save the item from your rending.

You flushed, attempting to pull your legs away and recognizing with a sharp sound that he could easily have seen up your skirt at that angle. Gojo’s hand tightened on your knee, keeping you in place.

“You should let your blood settle back before you try squirmin’ so much.”

If he had looked he did not make mention of it, focus fully on his game. Your stomach grumbled again and you tore open the honey bun packet and into the soft, sweet bread in short time.

“You really did faint.” Gojo said lowly, “Not the greatest. We’ll need to start with getting your cursed energy output higher. You can call on it in a pinch, sure, but it’d be better to have an ongoing source rather than relying on me teasing you into snapping off something halfway decent.”

“Ya know, anyone else and that move would have turned them into soup.” You said, not in the habit of defending yourself, but something about Gojo making the assessment set off your nerves. Why would he compare you to a level only he could achieve? It wasn’t fair.

“I know! I mean— it was good! Don’t get me wrong. Just not good. Blowing shit up is great and all but not if it blows you up with it. Leaves you vulnerable to reprisal if the curse isn’t alone.”

You shrugged, “I guess I just always figure if I take something out with that, if there is anything left the other sorcerers will get it.”

“… so it’s a sacrificial play, for you?”

You nodded. Gojo switched off his phone and shoved your legs off his lap, standing up. He didn’t offer you any help as you wobbled unto your own two feet.

“You got some serious hang ups.” Gojo said and you couldn’t very well argue.

He tugged his blindfold from his pocket, holding up the tattered piece of fabric for your inspection— as evidence. Your eyes widened. You didn’t realize until now the full extent of the damage, the way the cloth was shredded in the center as if a wild animal had tried to claw his eyes out. You had been so focused, so preoccupied… no wonder the damage wasn’t fully resembling of the true Lapse: Blue technique.

“Here. A souvenir.”

“… sorry.” You mumbled, reaching out to take it. Gojo quickly moved, pulling the blindfold from your reach at the last moment with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes and went to take it again only for him to repeat the same trick, earning a wary smile from you as you snatched at his hand and he allowed you to take it the third time.

“I never—“ Gojo began and stopped, humming to himself as he seemed to reconsider his words.

“What?”

“Well, I was just thinking I picked the best possible choice for this charade!” Gojo began, “It may really take you the whole year to fall for me.”

You smacked him with the torn piece of fabric, earning a startled “ow” from him and the satisfaction you must have caught him off guard to get through his barrier. You seemed to be able to do that a lot. Showed what he knew letting his powers wane around you.

“In the meanwhile, there is no time like the present! Let’s go!” Gojo reached out, grabbing your arm by the elbow before you could recoil away.

“Go—”

The forest disappeared, the world refocusing in the middle of Tokyo. The sounds of birds and wind replaced with the sound of tire treads on wet pavement and the faint, constant roar of the city scape.

“—where?”

Ah— yes.

To an abandoned apartment building.

That radiated cursed energy.

Of course.

[ererokii]

Tsuki || Shouto Todoroki

Shouto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Tsuki means Moon in Japanese

Warnings: light cursing

Word Count: 2237

Synopsis: It’s time for you to walk down the aisle and Shouto reminisces your relationship beforehand.

Taglist: @shoutogepi @shoutosteakettle @shoutodoki @sugacookiies @burnedbyshoto @kingtamakimurder @pixxiesdust @fryingpanitachi

➺ Note: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! The prompt is Wedding Vows

Bingo Masterlist

Todoroki Shouto adored you. Everyone could see it. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted you to be his for the rest of his life. He jumped at any opportunity that was given to him to make advances in your relationship.

Shouto stared into his reflection as he quietly fixed the bow tie of his suit. He tugged at the hem of the suit as he fixed the cufflinks on his undershirt.

“Todoroki!” Midoryia peeked his head through the door. “Are you almost ready? The ceremony is supposed to start soon.”

Shouto briefly nodded and pushed back a strand of hair that fell out of place. “Yeah. Just fixing myself. Do I look fine?” He turned around and held his arms out horizontally for emphasis.

He wore a dark grey suit that complimented his right side but somehow made his right side pop out in color. His hair was slicked back except for the hairs that were too stubborn to stay in place, falling in front of his face.

“You look great as always! But hurry up, I don’t know how much longer Kirishima can hold Bakugo down!”

From the outside, you could hear Bakugo’s yelling and the sound of explosions. Not too loud but loud enough.

A sweatdrop fell from Midoryia’s face as he stepped back. “Yeah we should get going before he somehow explodes this place”

“Right behind you.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“What if he lied and says no? What if this is some sort of game there are cameras secretly hidden so he can laugh in my face?!”

You paced back and forth, hands twitching by your sides as your dress dragged behind you. “What if he doesn’t love me?!”

“Y/N!” Jirou yelled that snapped you out of your panic, your head lifting quickly to meet her expression. “What?” You whispered meekly.

“Y/N honey” Momo places a hand on your elbow, a smile on her features. “You’re overreacting. Shouto loves you. Everyone can see it. I bet even strangers can see the love he has for you radiating off his body. There’s nothing to worry about. Plus he isn’t the type of man to joke about things like this.”

“He would be an idiot to say no! You have that boy wrapped around your finger! Tsu stop moving I can’t fix it” Mina grunted as she stood on her tiptoes, pushing the blue headpiece into her green hair. There! Perfect!”

You stopped in front of the full-body mirror, hands resting on your hips. The lace of the long sleeve ran it’s way down until it reached your forearm, the trim wrapping around with delicate patterns. Your back was exposed as the lace began again at the small of your back, flowing out as it trailed behind you. The dress hugged your curves, making you a walking statue of beauty. Your hair was in a low braided bun, strands of hair framing your face. A crown-like headpiece circled your head as your veil effortlessly enclosed around your body, making you look ethereal.

You teared up and began to fan your face. “Here they come” you choked out as you let your head hang back, a way to keep your tears at bay. “Aw Y/N” Ochako cooed as they came to surround you, wrapping their arms around your body but cautious of your dress and makeup.

“There’s no need to cry! You look so amazing! Every other bride out there in this world wishes they look as good as you!” Hagakure reassured, running her hand up and down your exposed back. “You look so beautiful. Shouto is one lucky man.”

The room erupted in agreement as a knock silenced all you.

You cleared your throat and fanned your face once more before speaking up, “Who is it?” you called and took a step towards the door.

“It’s Kirishima! It’s going to start right now so we all need to get paired up.”

Soon. Soon you would be walking down the aisle, holding the flowers tight to your chest to calm your nerves. Soon you would be saying your words of love to the man you were to spend the rest of your life with. Soon you would be leaving this place with your husband.

At the thought of leaving this place as Shouto Todoroki’s wife brought a smile to your face. You looked down at the carpeted floor as you gently kicked at it with the tip of your shoe. You were ready to start the next beautiful chapter with him. You remembered him acting strangely the day he asked you to be his on your fourth anniversary. He was a bit quieter like he reverted to his old school ways.

“Hello earth to Y/N? Did we lose her already?!” A hand waved in front of your face as a hand tapped itself on your shoulder.

Your head lifted quickly in shock, your eyes blown open as your mouth was parted. “What?!”

An amused giggle left Momo’s lips as she opened the door wider, allowing the rest of your bridesmaids to exit the room. “Don’t worry Y/N-San. It’ll be okay. We’ll all be up there!” she flashed you one of her charming smiles before exiting the room, leaving you by yourself.

You looked up at the ceiling as you let out your final breath, grabbing the flowers from the table and held it close to your chest. The music started playing, signaling everyone that you were to come soon. The beautiful melody filled your ears and it warmed the depths of your heart, the rhythm making your heartbeat join in sync.

You followed behind whoever was in front of you. It was hard to remember who was paired up with his groomsmen. Mina, who was in front of you, looked over her shoulder as her arm was interlocked with Kirishima’s arm. “It’s okay Y/N! It’ll be alright!”

Kirishima nodded in agreement. “It’s unmanly to be nervous! I bet Todoroki isn’t nervous at all!”

“Will the both of you shut up?!” Bakugo snapped as he fully turned around, dragging Hagakure in the process. “I want to get this shit over with but we can’t if you guys keep fucking talking!!”

Before you could retort back the doors swung open, allowing the first couple to walk through. Ochako and Izuku walked arm in arm together down the aisle, both showing their best smiles as your maid of honor and Shouto’s best man.

With space in between, each couple walked down in coordination before splitting up at the front.

You let out a deep breath as you clutched your hand to your chest. “This is it..” you whispered and let one foot move before moving the other, walking forward to a new chapter in your life.

As you made your appearance everyone stood up, Shouto’s head perking up at the sight of you, his mouth parting slightly. “Wow...” he whispered breathlessly as if you took his heart away from him again.

At the sight of your form walking closer and closer, he couldn’t help but drown in your appearance. You were beyond this world, something he couldn’t describe.

You walking down the aisle made him reminisce about how he got here. How he went from someone who didn’t need friends in his time in high school to having an almost wife by his side.

He remembered your first date. To be honest, he didn’t even know it was a date till you departed ways, asking for another one. Course he didn’t say anything about it but kept it to himself, lost in his thoughts.

The next dates after that were better than the first. The first being way too awkward that you did most of the talking. He noticed your form get closer and closer to him as you guys walked in the street, feeling the outline of your hand brush against his.

Your first kiss was… something to say the least. Your heads were angled weird as you bumped noses, emitting a noise from you and a soft smile to display upon his face.

Another date turned into another, then another, till it turned into your first anniversary. Your hardships only brought you guys closer, stronger to each other.

Your first fight tore him apart. He was being too distant as you said. He would come at late hours of the night and would leave first thing in the morning. You understood that he was a Pro-Hero, knew that he would be called whenever needed. You felt as if you weren’t needed and voiced your concerns.

One thing turned to another as he labeled you as clingy, not understanding, and whiny. You labeled him as distant, uncaring, and an emotionless bastard. The fight ended rather quickly when he saw your tears spewing out of your eyes as you whispered your insecurities to him. Right there he devoted any of his free time to you.

Yet here you were approaching him as he held his hand out for you to grab. Your smaller hand was engulfed by his bigger ones, leading you up the small steps to meet him at the top.

Your smile greeted him as he placed a kiss to your knuckles, placing your hand down by your side.

The voice of the Officiant, who was to wed you both was drowned out in the background. All Shouto could do was stare at you. His eyes drank in your figure as he slowly traced your form with his sight. To the way your hair was put in place to the flowing veil that covered your back, hiding you from the world. To the lace hugging your curves just right.

He snapped out of his trance when you took his hands in yours, facing him completely. Your lips moved that felt like an illusion to him. Your sweet voice filled the entire room as you declared your love for him. Your eyes gleamed with delight as your mouth was tugged up in a carefree smile, your hands twitching and squeezing with every word spoken.

Your eyes swelled up with tears as one of his hand reached to your face and gently wiped them away, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek gently.

“I promise to love you every day with my whole being Shouto. I promise to give my all to you through thick and thin. I love you Shouto.” You choked back a sob as you brought one of your hands to your mouth, covering it.

Shouto reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a white folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, fixing its creases as he stared down at his writing. “I had something pre-written down but,” he folded it again and placed it back inside. “I rather say what I feel right now.”

He let out a deep breath, “Y/N,” he began and lifted his head to meet your gaze. “No words can describe how much you mean to me. You’ve given me so many opportunities to prove myself that I was good enough for you. You were always there for me despite knowing what happened to me. You listened to me. You are my shoulder to cry on. As you are here for me, I promise to be there for you even though I know I’ll mess up.”

He grabbed both of your hands and held them to his chest. “You are my everything. You are my moon. You shined so brightly when I was in a dark place. In the dark, you showed me that there was something else out there that I couldn’t see. I promise to love, protect, and cherish you until I die and even until after that. My moon, I love you so much.”

He finished as your tears were openly flowing, your shoulders shaking as you shook your head.

“Todoroki Shouto, do you take Y/LN Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“Y/LN Y/N, do you take Todoroki Shouto as your lawfully wedded husband!”

“Yes!” You cried out and gripped Shouto’s hands tighter, your makeup messing up slightly. Shouto could only smile at your messy appearance but to him, you were beautiful. Full of emotion. Full of love.

“I now pronounce you Man and Wife. You may kiss the br-“

Shouto wrapped a hand around your waist and brought you flushed against his chest, one of his hands cradling your cheek and he placed his lips on yours, sealing your bond of an ultimate form of love.

Cheers boomed throughout the place, sobs erupting from your bridesmaids.

“They’re just!! So cute!!” Mina sobbed into her arm as Tsu rubbed her back gently.

“Todoroki-Kun and Y/N-San are cute!! I can’t wait to babysit their kids!!” Momo wailed out as she shook her flowers, the petals falling off everywhere.

“That’s so manly!!” Kirishima wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, Midoryia reprimanding Bakugo for making a smart comment.

“This was a beautiful ceremony Kacchan! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Bakugo grunted and looked away from everyone, a small smile forming at his lips. Even though he wouldn’t say it, he was happy for both of you.

You pulled away and leaned your forehead against Shouto’s, your lips ghosting his as you bring your left hand to stroke his cheek. “I love you, Shou.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, leaning into your touch.

“And I you, my love.”

[rosesnink]

Fluffy ABC: Ernest Sinclaire & Hayley Parker

Author’s Notes: 

You can find the template here! 

Ernest Sinclaire belongs to Pixelberry Studios. I only own my OC 

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos or grammatical mistakes 

I dare @missameliep​ to make her own ABC of the couple of her choice 

TW: Nothing, pure fluff! 

A – Anger (What was their first fight about? Any big or recurring arguments?)

Their first fight ever was when they moved in together, years before their marriage. Though they do not argue oft, their arguments can be intense, especially in Hayley’s part, but she is working on it.

Coming back to the argument: Ernest had accidentally clicked on a private file of Hayley and she got really angry at him, ending with her going to Briar’s place over the weekend and not talking to him over that time until he brought her favourite meal and had a civil conversation over dinner while Briar went out with Edmund. They agreed on improving their communication skills, especially in Ernest’s part.

B – Best (What would they say is the other’s best trait?)

Hayley thinks that Ernest’s golden and sincere heart is his best trait: how he just wants to help and expects nothing in return and does it because. It melts her heart and reminds her why she fell in love with him in first place.

As for Ernest, he just admires highly her perseverance and resilience. Since she was a child, she always managed to shine even in her worst times, not giving a damn about what others had to say about her. She always went through the day and made everyone’s lives bearable when hers was just a living hell.

C – Camera (How do they document their relationships? Who likes to take pictures? Or videos?)

Hayley shares a lot of photos about her life, always showing his fun side and his tender side. She is a woman who loves to show off her fantastic husband, and that increased when Alaska was born.

While Ernest has more mementos, he never posts them. Hell, he barely opens the apps on it! He only makes calls and texts and e-mails, like he were back in the 00s. He has a folder full of Alaska’s photos and videos of her, and always watches some of them when he’s feeling down or just misses his little princess. He also has a folder full of Hayley doing things: working, sleeping, laughing, eating, smiling at her baby bump, etc. He always smiles at those photos.

D – Dates (What are their dates like?)

Their dates are minimalistic, very few times they go somewhere lavish: Ernest loves to bring her food to her room and cover her with kisses and love, or go to libraries to buy books or at their favourite bar and have a drink while they laugh off things. He’s a Netflix and Chill guy too, though his favourite date spot is deep into Ledford Park territory, where he builds a picnic and ends up with Hayley on his lap, munching berries that his gardener grows and enjoy the breeze and the sun hitting his alluring wife.

E – Early (What was the first month of dating like?)

Hayley was a bit awkward at first: she hesitated a bit when touching him and didn’t dare to talk about things that would give him heart palpitations, thinking that he’d recoil and leave her. She talked about not-too-deep topics and was very closed off and scared.

Meanwhile, Ernest was really shy and helplessly whipped. He wished to touch her and shower her with the love she lacked in her life, but was scared of scaring her off or doing it wrong. He didn’t dare to ask her too personal questions and had a hard time opening up to her.

F – Friends (How is their relationship with each other’s group of friends?)

They share their group friend, that’s how they found each other. On Hayley’s part of the group, they all liked to tease Ernest and prank him, while the boys were a bit scared of Hayley, only Bart knew that she was in fact an angel. But now the hang out with them most of the time, when they’re not swamped on work and their kids.

G – Gifts (Do they like giving each other gifts? What kind?)

Ernest is a thoughtful man. He gives something of significant importance and that leaves a message, though he oft spoils his wife to let her know in his own way that he’s constantly thinking of her, that she misses her, loves her, wants her soon…

Hayley has a hard time choosing presents. She’s more of actions, but she can gift really nice things. Growing up in Spain, she learned to give small details: buy him something he will need, take him to a place he used to go as a child/ always wanted to go, small handwritten cards wishing him luck for today, a tie…

H – Hugs (All things involving hugs)

Ernest likes to hug Hayley from the behind when she’s frowning or pouting, hug her waist while talking to her, side-hugs, etc. He just loves to get lost on her warmth. He also finds her very cuddly and feels like home, being on her arms.

As for Hayley, she likes hugging him by his hips and rest her chin on his chest, climb on top of him and hug him from the shoulders, hug him by placing his head on her bust or legs if he’s lying, to hug him while he types rapidly the keyboard, to hug him when she’s on his lap, when they cuddle at night, … she likes to hug him in general. Even more than kiss him: he’s so warm and comforting, she falls easily asleep if she’s laying on his chest and he traces ghosts on her back absently.

I – Inside Jokes (Do they have any?)

They roast each other all the time. It shows their connection to each other and an intimacy that they show more oft. Hayley always has the best roasts for him, which had made him laugh out loud once or twice, though Ernest has too a humour that makes his wife laugh in a rather unholy way.

Hayley’s best insult to him is ‘Walking Mummy’ because of their age gap. He chortles and chuckles sometimes at it.

As for Ernest, he doesn’t have that kind of word for her, but he does enjoy teasing her bad temper and how lewd she can be. That normally ends with a pillow thrown to his head and a genuine laugh of his.

J – Jealousy (Who gets jealous easier? How do they show their jealousy?)

Ernest used to get jealous when Hayley was younger—especially under 18. He wouldn’t dare show it, but icy glares that could frost the hottest spot of the world were thrown at her many suitors, and threats were also thrown, many times he watched them make out as he grunted or rolled his eyes, commenting that she could do much better. When he grew up and got more experience, he realised how childish it was of him and instead became envious: wishing he could kiss her like that, wishing that he could have his hand casually on her hip, wishing that he could be the one who she first sees in the morning—he could never believe that years later, he’d become that man he fantasised to be for so long.

As for Hayley, she used to be jealous too, though she was most of the time in denial: watching him being whipped by those women, always with them, a small smile on his face, looking at her instead of her, etc. She realised it too late and dared not to spare another thought. Her jealousy evolved too on envy: wishing to be them, to be with him, to have him for her and do normal things with him without being afraid of being shamed because of the age gap issue.

K – Kiss (How do they kiss? Who usually initiates?)

Ernest loves to kiss his wife whenever he can: in the morning, where he devours her and makes her giggle groggily, when he’s headed to work and kisses her forehead, as a greeting when she comes back from work, lifting her off the floor and have better access to her lips, the ones that can lead to more, kiss her cheek, her forehead, her hair while smelling the familiar scent of mint and expensive shampoo, kissing her growing belly, her imperfections, her body… when he has a chance of having his hands on her, he cannot help himself: he just loves his wife dearly and wishes to show her that he loves her.

As for Hayley, she doesn’t kiss him as much as he kisses her, but her kisses are just as genuine: teasing one, trying to have her way with him, sitting on his lap and kissing him to lead him to bed, to show him that she missed him, his cheek, where she usually leaves a mark of lipstick that he never wipes off, before drifting to sleep, tiptoeing to kiss him deeper, to climb behind his back and kiss his cheek… she does it both in private and publicly and shamelessly, not afraid of showing that she loves her husband.

Here’s a fic of how their first kiss was! 

L – Love (How do they first say those three words?)

There’s a fic where they say each other those words!

But deep in a relationship, they say it when they both feel like it’s genuine. They don’t like to say it just to say it: they say it to lift each other up, to cheer them up, to show them how much they love each other. They aren’t the life of the party, but their words are always genuine.

M – Movies (What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

They are both busy people, but always try to have a day off together. Hayley’s guilty pleasure is period dramas and Ernest rants about inaccuracies or the exaggeration of TV. Hayley watches him with a knowing smile on her face, knowing that he is himself after a long day pretending.

Hayley’s secret is musicals: she loves Les Miserables and Ernest loves Moulin Rogue and their favourite as a couple is Hamilton. They sing the songs when travelling to Moorfield, after leaving the busy London roads behind, a smile on their faces as their best duets come out while one of them drives. Only their friend group know of these shenanigans of theirs and oft tease them about it.

N – Nicknames (Things they call each other)

Ernest calls Hayley ‘love’ or ‘my shining dove’ or when the two of them are being rather intimate, ‘cara mia’. Ernest’s ancestors are part Italian and his mother insisted in, at least, knowing the basics of Italian and Classic Latin.

Hayley calls Ernest ‘mi amor’, ‘mi vida’, and ‘mon trèsor’ when they’re alone and tangled with each other. Hayley’s a well-known multilingual woman: she knows Italian, Spanish, Greek, German, a bit of Turkish and Mandarin. Currently she’s learning Braille and English Sign Language.

O – One (Tell us about the moment they realized they were with the one.)

Ernest knew it sooner than Hayley. He was like 21 when he realised. It all happened very suddenly, but his heart was certain: when he danced with her at that club, her amused smile on her face, her hands around him, just the two of us as she sang out loud The Nights by Avicii, just the two of them in that moment, enjoying her company, his heart sang it for him: his greatest love was and had always been Hayley Jane Parker.

Hayley realised it in one of their dates pre-dating era. Her period had been delayed and took the chance to go out with him. In the sudden moment of a shared moment, the blood rushed to her pants and she apologized a billion times for screwing it when he offered his jacket, not minding if it’d be covered of her blood with her insides in it and bought her some pads before taking her home and spoiling her with whatever she wanted and watched a movie: he, on his tailored suit and she, on her ridiculous pyjamas that she didn’t prepare and watched Matilda together. That moment, in one of the funniest parts of the movie, she knew that she loved Ernest Sinclaire like she had never done before, and never wanted to be parted from him again. Not if she could help it.

P – Pizza (What is their favourite food to eat together?)

They love to eat all kind of Italian, but their favourite is tiramisu. They both love sweets and they eat it when they’re celebrating something, between pecks and spoonful’s to each other.

For Hayley’s part, she loves tzatziki, a Greek dish that even Ernest has grown to like. They eat it when they need energy and always cook it together.

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

They almost divorce in the series, though I will not say why. You can read it instead here!

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

Ernest loves to have his wife on his bed, either getting up to mischief or lying together, watching their comfort movie –Dead Poets Society—or reading, having some time to themselves.

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

Hayley’s irresistible puppy eye dog makes him go all soft and obliges to do anything she wishes of him. He cannot just resist his alluring wife.

As for Hayley, she goes soft every time he’s being kind to someone –or later on when he’s with their baby daughter, Alaska. How he laughs carefree, talks to her and behaves with her, like the absolutely kind of father whose daughter has him wrapped around her little finger.

T – Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they usually talk about over the phone?)

Hayley is the one who texts him the most. Ernest rarely uses his phone: he uses more his laptop and iPad for work and nothing else. She isn’t pedantic about emojis, but she has her signature emojis.

U – Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprised one another.)

Ernest’s good sparring abilities surprised Hayley greatly: she knew that he was able to defend himself, but never expected from him to be just as easy to pin her against the floor.

As for Hayley, Ernest was surprised in carefree she could be. He always thought her taciturn and that anyone could barely make her smile, but he had found that when she’s comfortable enough, she can be the funniest woman to be around. He had laughed at her cutting jokes and great imitations of other people, especially snooty men from the Parliament.

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

Ernest is very proud at how adaptable Hayley is in everything: better than him, and how athletic and well-shaped she is unlike some people. She has a routine that matches his and often run together alongside Hyde Park before heading to work: they also do laps and other exhaustive routines.

Hayley is proud of how of a natural father he is: nurturing, patient, understanding, confident, loving… she always knew that he’d be a great father—she never expected that he’d father her own children until she walked down the aisle towards him, knowing that she wanted that life with him and no one else.

W – Wedding (Tell us about your wedding head canon if they’ve gotten that far. Or if not, have they talked about it?)

You can read about their wedding and proposal here and here! 

X – X (Something they hate about the other)

There’s nothing Ernest hates about his wife. Perhaps annoys him, but never hate. He cannot bring himself to hate her, it’s impossible. But he does find annoying at how very little filter she has when talking and expressing things.

As for Hayley, there are things that annoy her too, but like her husband, she cannot bring herself to actually hate him; it’s against her nature. But if something makes her scoff, it’s how soft he is and how he allows people to step all over him: especially the ones who had hurt him. All because he’s awfully polite. She had scolded him for being so polite and that he should tell people to fuck off more often.

Y – Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

Hayley doesn’t post too much: a shot of their hands, or him looking away or barely seeing his face and is not very much of a social media user, but she is handier than her husband’s old soul. But she rarely posts and if she does, she always consults her husband.

As for Ernest, he barely has any social media; he doesn’t need them. He has like, three photos on his profile and two of them are of Hayley. He only has Goodreads, WhatsApp, Instagram and Candy Crush to entertain himself.

Z – Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

Hayley loves animals! Though she doesn’t seem herself capable of taking care of one, she loves to pet them and animals love her.

As for Ernest, he likes some of them. He doesn’t like venomous ones or the kind that hurt people.

[cellophanejpeg]

dancing with our hands tied || pt. i

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female!reader

Summary: Marcus is your boss and you really enjoy working with him. But a work trip to the west coast makes him visit the past and you realize not only you like him, but you’re deeply in love with him. The only problem is that you both work together and it would never work. Or so you think.

a/n: so basically i had to split this bad boy in two cause i was writing a whole damn the mentalist episode. all you need to know is: i know nothing about how the FBI works or how crimes are solved, so i made it all up. deeply sorry if i offend any fbi agents that could be here?? if you don’t watch the mentalist, basically patrick jane is an asshole that can read people’s body language and points them out in public. that’s really all you need to know, it’s a dumb show tbh. also, this contains detective work and law enforcement, which, during times like this, i would understand if you don’t want to read this. don’t forget to donate to the black lives matter movement and sign petitions against police brutality. i’ve reblogged a variety of posts with link for donations and petitions, they're under the tag #blm resources.

Warnings: mutual pining, some angst, a pinch of fake dating

Word count: 6.7k (and there’s more coming)

part ii | MASTERLIST

The badge around your neck swings as you run and you have to hold it in place. The streets of L.A. are full of curious eyes, gathered behind the yellow tape; you check your phone one more time and sigh. No messages, no missing calls. It’s not like him, you know something’s up.

When you show your ID to the police officer that’s in charge of controlling the people, he lets you duck under the tape and approach the other agents already in the scene. You exhale, panting from your run as you introduce yourself.

“I’m with the FBI,” You tell them after stating your name. They all eye you like you’re from another dimension.

“What’s the FBI’s interest in all this?” Asks a red haired agent whose name you don’t know.

You take a look at the corpse on the ground. “‘Cause this is our guy.”

Crouching next to the lifeless body, you take a pair of latex gloves from the pocket of your jacket and put them on; with gentle fingers you tilt the dead’s head sideways so you can look for a specific mark behind his ear.

"Yep," You tilt the man's head for everyone to see a burning scar on the shape of an eye. "The Crystal Eyes gang.” You take the man’s hand to show the pinky finger ring the gang members wear, but it’s missing. Furrowing your brows you notice the tan line on his finger, where the ring should be.

The only man who actually smiles at your statement is the blond, blue-eyed guy. The rest of the agents sigh and roll her eyes, and you frown already irritated. First, your partner doesn’t show to a crime scene of a case he’s the head of, then these CBI agents are clearly not your fans.

The woman who seemed to be the boss rolls her eyes at the man and looks at your direction. Her blue eyes darting to you with anger and you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or the man with the arrogant smile. When she speaks, her voice is demanding, like she’s also your boss. “Are you leading this case on your own? Where is your partner?”

It takes everything in you not to tell her to fuck off. “He’s–” You swallow. “Coming.” You stand, looking away as you take off the gloves and discard them. Taking another look at your phone, you sigh in disappointment when you see nothing. Fucking hell, he’s not coming. What an idiot. “So, this guy’s name is–”

“You’re lying.” A voice interrupted you. It’s the man with the arrogant smile. “He’s not coming, is he?” You watch the way he smiles at you. “You keep checking your phone and the way you looked away when you talked tells us you’re either waiting for someone’s call or you’re checking to see if something happened to him.”

Fuck. How does he know all that? Were you that transparent or are you just a bad liar?

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You ask him, shoving your hands in the pockets of your FBI jacket.

“Jane.” He smiles, showing you an ID card that has a picture of him above the name ‘Patrick Jane’. “Consultant.”

Nodding slowly, you frown at him. “Jane.” You tilt your head as you speak. “He’s coming, don’t worry. If he doesn’t arrive, he must have a great, great excuse for his absence. Either way it doesn’t concern you. What you do need to know is that him and I are after this gang for about a year now, and this is the first lead we have in three months. We’re more than capable of handling this.”

“Clearly not, if your partner is not even here,” The boss says. You exhale sharply. You were going to kill your partner.

“Listen, Agent…”

“Lisbon.”

“Agent Lisbon,” You repeat her name. “I know it’s hard to see a case being taken from your team, and I’m sorry about this, but– You gotta let me do my job.”

Lisbon sighs, crossing her arms “What do they do? The gang. Do they sell drugs? They kill people? Maybe there’s something we can help you with.”

“Well, I’m with the art squad so…” You pause. “They steal art.”

You watch as all the agents look at their boss and an awkward silence tenses the air. Lisbon widen her eyes and then looks away from you, clearing her throat. It’s like their own unspoken thing.

“Art?” Patrick says, amused. “From where?”

The way he says it makes it look like a joke and you’re not sure if he’s mocking you or not.

“Art galleries, museums, you pick.” You shrug, crossing your arms in a defensive manner. “They see a place with an expensive art piece? They steal. It could even be a rich man’s living room. When it comes to Crystal Eyes, they don’t give a fuck.”

Silence hangs in the air and you could hear a pin drop, even out here in the open. Finally, red haired woman, Van Pelt clears her throat, alleviating a bit of the tension you still don’t know why it’s there.

“And, uh–” She swallows. “These robberies involve killing other people or…?”

“No, they usually use a stealth strategy.” You almost sigh, relieved for the broken silence. “Although, one time, they killed an old man at his own mansion when the robbery didn’t go as planned. I don’t believe this an accident, though.”

“Interesting,” Jane mumbled. “Hey, do you happen to know an Agent–”

“We’re done here!” Lisbon interrupts him and starts walking away. You watch her give him a look only a wife would give to her husband. Quickly glancing at their hands, you notice they use the same ring on the same finger.

Of course they’re married.

Lisbon says your name, getting your attention again and nods at you. “He’s all yours. Have fun.”

And with that, her and her team walk away from the scene. Sighing, you check your phone one last time. Still, no messages, no missing calls, not even a text. Nothing. Gritting your teeth, you shake your head.

“Godammint, Pike.”

…

You and your team had been in California literally for half a day before the call for the dead guy came in. It’s the first lead you all have on this gang in three months, so as soon as one of the informants let you know one of the leader were in L.A., you all flew to the west coast and based yourselves in one of the FBI quarters.

As soon as you walk in the big room, you see Marcus’ sitting at his desk, typing something on a computer that looks like it hasn’t been used since the 90’s.

“Pike!” You exclaim, getting his attention. His face changes from focused, to confused, to a tired look in a matter of seconds. Strolling towards him, you watch as he leans back on his chair. “Three years I’ve been working with you and you’ve never pulled a stunt like this!” You slam your hand on his desk, making everyone around you jump, except from him. “If you wanted me to look like an idiot in front of the CBI guys, well, you did it!”

He raises his hands in defense and says your name, the low baritone of his voice is enough to send shivers down your spine, but not right now. Not today, when you’re angry at him like this.

“Oh, please, do tell,” You grunt, shifting the weight of your body to one leg as you cross your arms. “I’m eager to know why you didn’t show in such an important crime scene, leaving me alone to deal with them.”

Marcus gaped at you for a second and then sighed softly. “I got stuck in the traffic.”

You roll your eyes. “Bullshit. I was miles away and managed to get there before forensics.”

He stared at you for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”

“Well, let this be the first and last time.” You warned him, pointing a finger to him.

“May I remind you I’m your boss, Agent?” He gives you a teasing smile, leaning back on the chair.

You sigh shaking your head. “Yeah, you seem to forget that sometimes.”

His eyes left yours and you felt a pang of sorrow for him, not knowing exactly why. You and Marcus have always had a love-hate relationship. Even though he's technically your boss, you've always treated him like equal. Yelling at him in front of colleagues wasn't a new thing, and to be honest, he’s already used to it. Shaking your head, you stroll over to the furthest desk and sit down, claiming the spot as yours for the time you stay in L.A.

Marcus Pike is an excellent agent. He’s dedicated and hardworking and a damn good boss. The man was born to lead, the passion he has for his job impresses you. Ever since you’ve joined the squad, you’ve been assigned with him as your partner. Back then, everyone told you how lucky you were to be working beside him. Three years later, you still feel lucky to work to have him as your partner. Just not today.

Needless to say, you have a mild crush on him. When you first met him, your first thought was that he was incredibly handsome. And then you were gradually being acquainted with his work style, with the way he worked hard, so your feelings for him just grew stronger over the time. You’ve become closer him over the course of the years and you know him just as well as he knows you. Which is why you just snapped at him. He’d never allow such thing if any other member of the squad talked to him like you did.

Little do you know that Marcus is harvesting a crush on you too. It’s been a while since the feelings had started to make its way to his heart. He’s not sure when it started, but he knows it’s there. He feels it every time you smile and laugh at one of his jokes. He feels it every time you come up with a lead, every time you arrest a criminal. He feels it when he sees you wearing the FBI jacket, looking so pretty with your hair in a low bun or in a ponytail. Hell, he feels it when you’re mad at him.

Marcus glances at you, from his claimed desk and sees you looking at the computer screen, forehead creased in concentration as you filled in the report from the crime scene. Sighing, he looks back at his own computer, feeling his heart sink. Three years you’ve been working together and not once you showed up with a boyfriend. Claiming your job was more important to you at the moment, you just stated that you have no time for relationships. You want to focus on your career, make a name for yourself.

Which is why you and him would never work.

The clock ticked slowly that morning as you all put the leads together to find out who killed the man of the gang. His name was Liam Dixon and he had a big name in the gang, his picture pinned on the cork board from your office back in New York for months. And now, he just drops dead. During a briefing, someone suggested it might have been an accident, a mugging that went wrong, but you know it’s more than that. Saying that the only thing that has been missing from the body was the ring, you argued that it could be either personal or a gang conflict that went wrong. Marcus agreed with you. The orientation he gave everyone is look into police calls for stolen art recently in L.A. That way, you can all have a hint where the gang is acting.

When lunch time arrives, you sigh as you check your phone and stand from your desk. Organizing your desk, you pick up the post-it notes and empty coffee cups and throw them in the trash, when you see a figure approaching you.

“Let me make it up to you,” Pike says, leaning his hand on your desk. “I know a good place where we can have lunch.”

…

Going on lunch breaks with him isn’t unfamiliar to you, but you’re still upset at him, so you order a salad and eat in silence as he eats his own meal too.

“How was the crime scene?” He tries to make conversation.

“You’d know if you were there.” The words come out too fast from your lips and you quickly shoot him an apologetic look.

“You’re still upset?”

Waving a hand at him, you shook your head. “I’m just being petty.” You swallow your food. “The scene was packed, lot of curious eyes. I got there and the CBI guys were in the scene.”

He nods, considering his next words. “Is Patrick Jane still a part of the CBI team?”

“The consultant?” Your voice gives a hint of surprise. “Yeah, he was there. Kinda weird guy if you ask me.”

Pike laughs softly, shaking his head. “Don’t let your guard down near him. He’ll read you like an open book.”

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of your water, eyeing him.

“He’s… Very observant,” He explains. “He’s good at reading people and he has no filter. If something is bothering you, he will let everyone know.”

“Huh.” You smile. “What a weirdo.”

Silence hangs in the air as you both eat. A comfortable silence, a good one.

“Did you meet Lisbon?” He asks, suddenly.

Frowning at him, you nod, biting a piece of broccoli. “Yeah, do you know her?”

Marcus sighs, drinking the rest of his water. Something in his demeanor tells you he’s… Sad, maybe? His eyelids drop to his plate and his shoulders slump as he hangs his head low. You’ve been coexisting with him long enough to tell he’s not okay. Then, a thought occurs to you.

“She’s the ex, isn’t she?” You ask, quietly. He looks up at her and nods, his expression changing, covering the trace of sadness from his face.

Marcus had told you about an ex who left him for another man during one of your stakeouts together. It broke your heart to know that a man like him, so sweet and hardworking, was left twice by women who didn’t appreciate him. You told him that they it was their loss and, after he laughed at your corny attempt at comforting him, you said that if they didn’t leave him, you’ve had never met him. That night, he looked at you like you were the light of his life. Every time you remember, you feel butterflies on your stomach and smile to yourself.

It was nearly two years ago.

And it’s not like Marcus is not over Lisbon, after all it’s been five years since the breakup. But he’s still not ready to face her. Not again. Not after the last time he saw her with Jane and felt his heart bleed. He just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

“How is–” He clears his throat. “How is she?”

“Fat.” You shake your head, grimacing at him. “Her hair was all over the place, pimples on her skin, bad breath, lettuce on her teeth–”

Marcus lets out a laugh, shaking his head. It’s the kind of laugh that makes him throw his head back and wrinkle the corner of his eyes, and, god, his smile is beautiful. He laughs genuinely and you know that, because you've heard it before. You hear it when you are in stakeouts together and you'd crack a joke he'd really liked. You hear it in birthday parties of the members of the squad, when he’s tipsy and drunk happy. You hear it when you make your snarky remarks at the perks you arrest. You could watch him laugh for hours and you would never get tired of the view, of the sound of it. It makes your stomach churn with pleasure to know that you’re the one who provoked this laugh on him. As he wipes the corners of his eyes, you smile at him, laughing softly.

“Nice try, but–” He laughs. “Thanks.”

You just shrug, shaking your head. “Is that why you didn’t go to the crime scene?”

Pike’s smile fades away and you regret the question when you see the expression he gives you. Something tells you to take it back, to apologize and leave it like that, but if he didn’t want to face her… Then, maybe, he still has feelings for her. And the thought, somehow, hurts you.

“Yeah, I, uh–” He swallows. “I don’t think I’m ready to face her again.”

“Oh.” Is all you say.

After finishing your lunch, you both pay the bill and leave the restaurant. The thick, awkward silence grows heavy between the two of you as you both walk together back to the quarters. You want to speak, but you don’t know how to comfort him, how to make him feel better. And then a different voice calls his name.

“Marcus?”

You both stop walking and turn around. Lisbon and Jane, hands laced together, are staring at the both of you. Marcus’s heart almost stop at the sight, his breath get caught on his throat as he widens his eyes.

“Teresa,” He replies, a surprised tone in his voice, eyeing Jane and nodding at him. “Patrick.”

“I see you kept the, uh–” Jane points at his own face to indicate a beard. “The look.”

Marcus nods at him, but doesn’t respond. You nod shortly at Patrick and glance at Lisbon.

“How– How are you?” She asks, looking right into his eyes. A shot of jealousy hits your heart, and you swallow hard trying to push the feeling away.

“Good,” Marcus answer, smiling. “You?”

“Good.” She smiles at him and you have to look away. Pursing your lips, you discreetly take a deep breath and cross your arms.

This woman had Marcus wrapped around her finger and really discarded him when she decided she didn’t want him. She played with his feelings until she got tired and left, not knowing she had a great man who was in love with her and was willing to do anything for her. She doesn’t know how lucky she was for having him. The anger sets in your chest faster than expected as they make small talk, but you don’t listen to them. You can’t, or you’ll explode with anger. It’s Jane’s voice that pulls you out of you thoughts.

“You’re jealous.” His voice is directed to you and both of them stop talking to look at you.

“What?” You frown in confusion.

“Your lips.” He points to his own lips as he talks. “They’re pursed together. You’re crossing your arms to shield yourself, and you have this… Sour expression on your face.”

Widening your eyes, you look at Pike but he’s just as surprised as you are.

“You have feelings for Agent Pike and you’re jealous that he’s giving attention to his ex girlfriend.” Jane smiled triumphant. You gape, feeling your heart speed, and the heat on your cheeks as you look at him surprised. Lisbon shoots a look at Jane as if she’s saying stop reading people without their permission. Your eyes are focused on the ground, knowing that if you look at Pike, it'll be game over.

"Of course she has feelings for me." Pike laughs softly after a short awkward pause. You shoot a look at him, a frown in your brow, confused as hell. "She's my girlfriend."

A silent pause hangs between all of them. Agent Lisbon frowns deeply, widening her eyes to the both of you. Jane's smile fades away. Pike's smile grows wider. And you… You just look at him in shock, thinking about how quickly he thought of the lie. It's unnecessary to lie, there's no point in telling the CBI that you were together, except–

He wanted to impress Lisbon. Of course.

Trying to conceal your emotions from Jane, cause he'd know if you're lying, you smile at the couple and laugh softly. Marcus approaches you and lays his palm flat on your lower back. A touch that makes you tense and melt at the same time. The warmth of his hand gives you some comfort and, despite everything going on, it's a comfort you needed for a really long time.

"We're trying to keep it a secret, for now." The words roll off easily from your lips and when you see, you're already wrapping an arm around his torso, smiling as brightly as you can. "Because we're coworkers, and we don't know how the squad would react." And then, with a playful tone, you look at Pike. "But someone can't keep his mouth shut."

Marcus laughs, shaking his head. A fake laugh.

"I just can't contain myself." He leans towards you to press his lips on the crown of your head. “I’m too happy with you.”

It shouldn’t make your heart jump, but it does. You look up at him and give him a real smile this time, your eyes softening as a light breath leaves your lips. He looks at you and notices it, slightly tilting his head like a confused puppy, reading your expression too well. Your smile fades for a moment as you look away, but the fake smile returns when you look at Patrick.

“Oh,” He says, looking a little too disappointed.

“We have to go,” You tell them, smiling. “We got a gang to catch.”

As soon as you both are out of their sight, you let go of each other. The walk back to the quarters is silent and awkward and you have to put an effort to not blush the entire way. Pike warned you, the man is good at reading people. And he really has no filter at all. You just hope that your partner thinks Jane is wrong, you can’t afford him knowing about your feelings for him.

When you reach the doors to the quarters, he calls your name, stopping by the steps. Looking back at him, you see him, with his hands on his hips and his eyes on the floor. You swallow, feeling your heart speed up.

“About what Jane said–”

“He was wrong.” You’re quick to interrupt. Marcus’ eyes dart up to you and you have to stop yourself from sighing.

“He’s never wrong.” His voice is soft and there’s a hint of something in his eyes. It’s something sparkly, like– Like hope. You have to look away, pushing the feeling away as you shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“Well, he was,” You tell him, and when he says your first name, “We’re coworkers. Don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for you.”

With that, you turn your back to him and enters the quarters, the lie still burning your throat. Heading straight to the bathroom, you feel your eyes watering. By the time you lock the door, they run down your cheeks and you sob. You didn’t know why it hurt so much to lie to him, but it does.

You’re really into him, aren’t you?

…

Another member of the gang was murdered. Frederick Hale, second to leader of the Crystal Eye, was found dead by gunshot wounds almost in the same street Liam Dixon was found. When you and Pike got the crime scene to identify the body, forensics were almost done with everything.

“That doesn’t make sense,” You say, gripping you tea mug on the table. During the briefing, your brain is working like a machine, trying to figure out why the member of the gang were dropping like flies.

“Could be a coincidence.” Russell suggested, shrugging.

“It could be, but two members in the same day?” You argue.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Pike tells everyone. “Ballistics came through. Liam and Frederick were killed by the same gun.”

It doesn’t surprise you. You knew it was too good to be a coincidence.

“So, someone is definitely taking them out.” You nod.

“Maybe they both fucked up, and the man was mad about it.” Davis shrugs.

“No, it’s not like Yosef,” Pike says, sitting down and crossing his arms. The shirt tightens around his arms and you look away quickly, not letting the horny thoughts distract you from the investigation. “He doesn’t eliminate his members like that.”

“What if someone’s infiltrated in the gang?” You bite your thumbnail, like you always do, a habit Marcus noticed you did in the first week of working with you. You do it when you’re concentrated, thinking of something important.

“Like an informant?” He asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his gaze.

“No, no. Like– Someone who joined it with the specific purpose of killing them?”

“Like an avenger?” Davis scoffs and you shoot an angry look at him.

“Yeah,” Pike says, nodding. “I thought the same thing.”

Finally, finally you look at him. He gives you an assuring look as he's saying I agree with you and I have your back at the same time. That’s a thing you like about him. The way you both communicate without words. You open your mouth to agree, but his phone rings before you make a word out. He picks it up, dismissing you all with a wave of his hand and you sigh, standing up and walking to your desk.

You only get to turn the computer screen before Marcus makes a quick beeline for you and asks if he could talk to you for a moment. Outside. Feeling your stomach churning, you nod, knowing something is wrong. Following him to the back patio of the building, you take a couple of deep breaths, preparing yourself for whatever is coming. When you both are in a safe distance from the other members of the squad, he turns to you and sighs.

“That was Jane on the phone.” He explains, quickly.

A frown is on your forehead. “Jane? Patrick Jane?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, wetting his lips with his tongue and exhaling softly. “He invited us to a double date.”

A laugh escapes your lips and you smile, thinking it’s a joke. “A double date with who?”

His face is serious when he answers. “You and me, him and Teresa.”

The smile falls from your face and you tilt your head, knowing there’s more to it. “And you said no, right?”

Marcus’ gaze is on the floor as he avoids the question by staying in silence.

“Pike.” You insist. “Tell me you said no.” No answer. “Please, tell you said we’re going to be busy or that we had plans already.

You wait for his answer until he finally looks at you again. “I said yes.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you close your eyes and sigh deeply. Marcus bites his bottom lip, eagerly waiting for an answer, leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Why?” You ask, eyes still closed.

“I-I– I just–”

“Is this about Teresa?” You interrupt him before he could think of what to say. “Is this you trying to prove a point to her?”

“No!” He answers too quickly and you narrow your eyes at him. “Y-you know I can’t lie to Jane, he’ll know if I do!”

“Not even on the phone?!” You argue.

“Trust me, he’d know.”

Looking away, you sigh, crossing your arms. Marcus knows he’s putting you in a difficult position and the truth is that he doesn’t actually know why he said yes to the date. Maybe he just wishes he could go out with you and, knowing you would refuse his invitation if it was a normal situation, he accepted to continue to lie to Teresa and Patrick just to go out with you.

“Fine.” You finally answer. “When?”

“Tonight, eight o’clock.”

Sighing, once more, you nod. “Okay. But his ends tonight. No more lies. We’re here to work.”

He raises his hands in defense. “I promise, boss.”

“Fuck.” You mumble, walking away from him and ignoring the teasing nickname,

This is bullshit.

 …

Why this had to happen?

You look at yourself in the mirror for the hundredth time. The hotel room is a mess, clothes all scattered around the floor and bed. You didn’t bring any date clothes. Not even a casual dress. Not even a formal dress. You weren’t counting on going on a fucking date with a fake boyfriend.

The only formal set of clothes you bring is a plaid gray skirt, with length just above the knees, and a blazer in the same color and pattern. You put it in your suitcase just in case you’d have to attend an audience or be in the presence of a judge. Pairing it with a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of your usual office heels – black stiletto heels with a pointed toe – you decided this is the outfit.

Many times you imagined what your first date with Marcus would be. Your imagination liked to go far, from movie dates to fancy dinners, after all, it doesn’t hurt to think, right? But you never, ever imagined it would be like this. Faking a relationship to impress his ex. It kinda hurts, you realize, being a pawn to his game. But, deep down, you were dying for an excuse to go out with him. Even if it might be unprofessional. You just wish it would be you and him only.

A soft knock on your door announces he’s ready. You check your makeup and adjust your hair quickly, before walking to the door. You open it to a see a very handsome Marcus Pike standing at your door. He’s wearing a black suit and tie, like he usually does at work, but something is different. He’s neater, his hair is combed in place and his beard is trimmed and… Is he wearing cologne? The smell invades your nostrils and intoxicates you quickly, in a good way.

“Should I have shaved?” He asks, when you don’t speak. You blink, returning to the real world.

“No.” You shake your head, smiling. “You look– You look great.”

A shy smile curves the corners of his lips. “You too.”

You wave a hand at him, grabbing your clutch bag and closing the door behind you.

“I didn’t bring anything fancy, so…” You try to explain yourself.

“No, no, you look–” He hesitates. “You look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you look away from him, clearing your throat. Marcus is still amazed by you, looking so different tonight. Your hair is down and he fights the urge to run his fingers through it. In the three years he’s known you, he tries to think when he ever saw you with your hair down and he can’t. This might be the first time.

“Shall we?” You pull him out of his thoughts. He nods, and offers his arm for you to hook yours in it. You feel nervous, but for some reason, there’s a good feeling settled in your stomach.

Soft classical music reaches your ears as you enter the fancy restaurant, Marcus following right behind you, his hand hovering your lower back. As soon as you enter, a receptionist smiles and asks for your names.

“Yeah, we’re under the name Jane,” Marcus says, nodding once at her. She checks a list and tells you both to follow her.

She guides you both to an empty table and, for a moment, you think maybe they’re late, until you realize it’s a table for two. Your stomach drops and you swallow, frowning confused at the lady. Marcus laughs softly and shakes his head.

“No, there must be a mistake,” He says.

The receptionist frowns and checks the list again. “It says here you’ve reserved a table for two, Mister Jane.”

Marcus gapes at her as she walks away leaving you two behind. A waiter is politely waiting for you both to sit down at the table to hand you the menu, but you just look at each other, mouths hanged open.

“Maybe–” You say, swallowing hard. “Maybe we’re at the wrong restaurant.”

“No, he did this.” He whispers to you as you look at him, confused. “He set us up.”

A scoff leaves his throat as you look at him, pale and shaking. Does that mean you’re on an actual date… With Marcus Pike?

“What do we do now?” You ask, holding your clutch bag tightly with your hands.

“Well, we have two options. We can leave, and that’s okay if you want to.” He looks you in the eyes, leaning slightly towards you in honesty. “Or we can have dinner.”

The look you give him is one he can decipher. He can’t tell if you’re offended by the proposition or just thinking about it. Deep down he’s hoping you say yes, hoping you’d have dinner with him, just you and him. Then, a shy smile curves the corners of your lips and you shrug.

“Okay,” You tell him. “Since I’ve put on makeup and got all dressed up.”

He smiles at you and walks to the table to pull the chair for you to sit on. As the waiter hands you the menu and Marcus sits down in front of you, you try to calm down your nerves and try not to think you’re in an actual date with Agent Pike aka your boss. You order white wine and him Whiskey. After the waiter leaves, a moment of silence hangs between the both of you until you laugh nervously.

“I gotta admit,” You say, laughing. “Going on a date with my boss is kinda… Weird.”

Marcus stares at you for a few seconds and you wonder if saying the d-word was a bad move. But then he smiles, looking down at the menu and shaking his head.

“Just… Don’t think of me as Agent Pike. Tonight I’m just Marcus.”

“Marcus.” You repeat his name and nod. “Okay, Marcus… So what do you do for fun?”

Marcus breath almost hitches at the way you say his name and he imagines a thousand scenarios where you say his name like that. He clears his throat and swallows, closing the menu and looking at you.

“You know, the usual,” He answers. “Drink beer, watch TV.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows. “That’s all?” You tease. “You’re going to tell me Agent Marcus Pike doesn’t have a hobby?”

“C’mon.” He laughs. “You know which are my hobbies. You’ve known me for years.”

“Hmm, yes.” You smile. “But you said you’re Marcus tonight and I’m just trying to get to know you.”

Marcus looked at you with warmth in his eyes. A certain look that makes your stomach churn in pleasure, your heart speed and your cheeks warm. It’s something different. Perhaps the first time you look at his eyes like this in three years of knowing him.

“Alright,” He finally says. “My hobbies include watching TV, cooking and martial arts.”

A frown grows between your brows as you look at him surprised. “Cooking? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, I decided to give it a try last month.” He shrugs and waits for the waiter to serve their drink before continuing talking. “I keep burning water, I don’t know why I even try.”

A laugh escapes your lips. A genuine laugh. “That bad, huh?” You take a sip of the wine as you watch him nod. “You just practice. I can teach you some recipes if you want. My mom tells me I’m an excellent cook.”

“Yeah, maybe you should.” He gives you that look again and you clear your throat, playing with the stem of your glass of wine. Marcus’ fingers slowly approach yours, barely grazing at your skin before pulling away at the sound of the waiter’s voice asking if you were ready to order.

Marcus orders the special stake and you the mushroom cream soup. The food is good, tasty, but you really wished you could have something simpler. You didn’t mind, as long as you’re with him. The night goes by with laughter, talk about your personal lives and stolen looks from each other. By dessert, you both were buzzed off by the alcohol and kept laughing at everything.

“Wait, you threw up on her?” You ask, a wide smile on your face as Marcus tells you a story about his very first date, where he got too drunk and everything went wrong.

“On her shoes!” He replies, burying his face on his hands.

“Oh my god!” You put a hand on your mouth to muffle a laugh.

“I was seventeen, okay?” He argues, laughing too.

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eyes, you sigh, feeling your face warm. You both fall into a comfortable silence as Marcus reaches for your hands on the table. Your fingers touch his and you feel the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine. You realize you want to hold his hand forever, the feeling of his rough palm on yours is comforting to you.

“I’m having a great time.” He confesses, a closed-lipped smile on his face. An involuntary smile curves your lips too, letting the feeling take over you.

“Me too.” Your voice is small, shy. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” He agrees and fall in silence again.

Suddenly, an urge to tell him how you feel hits you. It may be the alcohol, but you can’t shake off the thoughts of confessing your feelings to him from your mind. You shouldn’t do it, not even your drunk self knows it. But the pain of yearning for a man, a good man, and not being reciprocated hits you and you don’t like the feeling.

“It’s getting late.” You whisper instead and he nods, asking for the check. He insists on paying, despite your protests.

The cab ride back to the hotel is silent and he’s not touching you anymore, but you wished he was. You wished he reached out for your hand, laced them together and pressed his lips on your skin. You wished this night never ended, you wished you would never let him go. The buzz of the alcohol is already faded when you both arrive at your hotel room, pulling the keycard from your wallet. Marcus walks with you and you look at him, smiling.

“So that was fun,” You say, biting your bottom lip.

“It was.” He smiles back. “We should do it again some time.”

Your heart skips a beat at small offer and all you can do is nod and smile. God, you really want to kiss him. You really want to kiss that stupid face, wipe off that stupid grin and pull him to your room. Licking your lips, your eyes set on his and he seems to notice because he licks his own lips, making your breath hitch.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” He says, looking right into your eyes.

And you should say no. You should draw the line, tell him you work together and that would be inappropriate. But instead you say,

“Okay.”

And then his lips gently press into yours as you close your eyes. The air escapes from your lungs as you reach for his neck, pulling him closer, his own hands cup your cheeks, kissing you tenderly. It feels amazing. The sensations his lips give you are beyond your imagination. As you open your mouth, allowing him you slip his tongue in, you sigh, deepening the kiss and tugging at his hair.

Then, you sober up. You pull away too quickly and wide your eyes, the blood draining from your face and your throat closing at the realization you just kissed your fucking boss.

“Shit,” You mumble, backing up. Marcus calls your name softly.

“It’s okay–”

“No.” You interrupt him. “You’re my boss, we work together.” You exhale sharply. “We can’t.”

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.” You raise a finger to him. “Please– Just don’t.”

Fumbling with the keycard you enter your room without giving him a chance to speak. The place it’s still a mess from your private fashion show, but you don’t care. Tears spill from your eyes as you remove your shoes and your clothes, not bothering to putting on pajamas or organizing the room before burying yourself under the covers.

Well, now, you’re really fucked.

_

tags: @madadlorian​ @xo-dragonette-xo​ @rosetophighlander​ @adikaofmandalore​ @pedropascalito​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @burningsoulbloodyheart​ 

let me know if you want to be tagged in part ii!

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Could I request kin asking her mom about Kai and her wedding? Was it a big wedding? Did they have a special dance. Or I could see Kai refusing to dance in front of everyone so later that night he puts on some soft music and takes his new wife by the hand and holds her close causing her to get emotional.

*yelling like present mic on the background*

"Ouch!"

Kaito looked down at his sister and entered on panic mode already at seing that while messing around on their father's office, he had accidentally left a huge book fall straight on his sister's head.

"I'm sorry Kin, you're okay?" The girl nodded with teary eyes while pouting and rubbing where it had hitted her.

"Oni-san what this?" She pointed at the boom that had fallen and Kaito furrowed his eyebrows.

He had never saw this book once and he has played A LOT on his dad office... maybe the fact that this one was up high on the shelfs was because he never saw it.

He cringed at only remembering his father calling him midget.

Just wait until I grow up daddy, I'm drinking galons of milk...

Kaito fixed his mess while thinking about that and jumped out of the shelfes and landed on the floor smugly... before he felt his feet starting to feel sore from the fall.

He might have to call mommy about this... his feet was sore and he needed your magic hands...

The girl crawled and reached with her tiny chibby hands at the object, and with her force she manage to open and gasped immediately with her wide holden eyes that even seened to appear stars on it.

"Oni-san! Is papa and mama!"

Kaito arched one of his eyebrows befofe kneeling on yhe ground for gasping as well at seing his mother and father on the same picture, younger and on their wedding day.

The clothes revealed everthing... traditional japanese wedding apparently.

"Dad looks like grandpops with this clothes." Kaito snickered while Kin turned the lage again to see her mommy's side of friends and some family members.

She giggled in excitement before lifting up the book with both chubby arms and walking outsides if the office eargly.

"Wait Kin! No! Dad is going to freak out with us if he catch that we touched his things!" The gidl turned and smiled sweetly at her brother.

"Im going to ask mama about this!"

... ok. He might as well go along. As long as his daddy doesn't discover he went into his office again without permission.

~

"Windows cleaned!" You beamed while looking around the room proudly.

"Those brats are never going to learn their lesson... clean up what you got dirty, simple, even a pig can understand a simple order like this one." Your husband mumbled in irritation before throwing his gloves on the trash can.

"... grumpy pants." You yelped at the pinch on your butt and the springs of water hitting hour cheek.

"I will take a shower. Want to join me as well?" He offered, face stoic, but that mask didn't hidded the joy and dare you say smooth... although his voice spoted it.

"Nah, maybe the kids will catch us or something." He growled in dismay at that.

Fucking brats.

"Then you go shower later. You're sweaty and sticky from cleaning... that's disgusting." He said in false annoyance while leaving the living room, enjoying while it lasted yiur giggles.

You went to check the coffee table for any hints of possible dust before both sweet voices of your children calling 'mama!' catched your interest.

"Hello you two!" You kneeled on the ground to accept the hug from your son before going to give your daughter one as well.

While hugging Kin you noticed a certain familiar album and arched one of your eyebrows.

Wasn't this supposed to be in Kai's office?

"Mama! We found this where it shows you and papa with funny but beautiful clothes!" Your Kin pointed cutely at the cap of the album while your son nodded.

"Was this your wedding with dad mommy?"

You nodded with a brigh smile at opening the page and shooking your head at remembering that at first it was supposed to be a intere album with only you on it.

Although, thank the lord, you discovered Kai's demands to the photographer before it could happen... so you, the future fiance of Overhaul who had almost everyone in the palm of your hand, asked for the man to not only take picture about you, but the whole event in general since Kai payed, to your dismay, A LOT on this.

Your husband was glaring and scolding you the moment he discovered this and almost overhauled the photographer? Definitely.

But you still got your pictures. The ones where ir has Kai were definitely your favorites despite his growls and complains.

"Why the traditional japanese wedding though?" Kaito asked while sitting on the sofa and leaning his head on your arm while hugging it "Dad and you rarely uses this type of clothing..."

"Papa looks like grandpa wearing this!" Your daughter beamed, hugging your arm with one of hers while the other pointed at Chisaki's stoic face.

You remember his rage on taking a picture... it was so hard to not laugh at this.

You giggled before turning your page and seing Pops with a serene smile.

"It was more because me and your father found quite interesting the idea but we wanted to surprise your grandpop with it." You pointed at the living room with a giggle "Besides, we already live on a traditional japanese house, and I swore that i saw a tear falling from grandpop's eyes when your father sayed his vows to me." You gulped your own wish to tear up at the memory.

"Vows? What's this?" Your son asked, still with his attention on the book before flipping over at seing his godfather on it. "Uncle Kurono was there!" He beamed with a smile.

"Yep, all important members of the yakusa were... my friends were almost peing on their pants with this." You giggled at remembering one friend of yours coming behind you to tell that there was a guy holding a gun and she was almost freaking out at the many glares she was receiving.

"Vows are some words we say during the ceremony to our future husband or wife." You turned the page and smiled at sieng your own family on there. "Kurono told me it took four months to your dad to write those."

"FOUR?!" the kids exclaimed in surprise while you couldn't help but laugh.

Chisaki was never good with words.

"Dang... why Mimic looks so rigid in here?"

"Uncle Irinaka?" Your girl asked with curious but hearted eyes already at the mention of her favorite uncle.

"Ah.... this was because... He was in charge of the rings and he almost lost them." Your Kaito snickered while Kin gasped. "... your dad almost killed him." Kin gasped louder while Kaito just errupted in laughter.

"Mama in weddings aren't dancing?" You nodded with a bit of confusion. "Where is it you dancing with papa?"

"About that-"

"What is all that noise?" The voice of Chisaki echoed in the room, faintly irritation as you glanced behind you to see your husband placing his mask on the middle of his steps to watch you three.

He narrowed his eyes the moment he saw what exactly that you were holding.

"Why are you showing them this?" He groaned already bringing a hand to pinch between his eyebrows.

"Hey! They were the ones who brought me to show it to them!" Kai's eyes immediately went to Kaito, who shivered despite his neutral expression.

"Angel go take a shower, you're dirtying the couch." He said monotonously while you gasped in offense.

"After that comment I will be sleeping on this couch." You said jokingly, smirking at the way your husband's shoulder tensed at that.

"Dare to dissobey me (Y/N) Chisaki." He growled back, scoffing at the way you giggled.

He went to pick the album away from his kids but they were already making those damn puppy eyes at him.

"What?" He spatted, even knowimg what was coming.

"Papa tell us about this one!" Kin pointed at a picture and his eyes aoften a bit at the sign

"Ever since I met your mother I had the wish that she shared at least one dance with your Grandpop... Nothing big about it." He said coldly but still sitted down pickimg the album up.

"There is a lot of mommy dancing in here but..." Kaito looked at him questionably "Didn't you danced with her?"

"Of course I did brat." He scoffed before closing the album "But there is no picture about it. Thankfully." He deadpanned at both kids whines and just sighed in response.

"Then how it was?" His daughter asked with a sparkle on her golden eyes "How was dancing with mama, papa?"

He thought for a moment before sighing, seing that those deviants wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't tell about it with details.

The kids noticing that their father was going to tell them after he sighed moved eargly to the ground, picking a cushion to sit on.

He deadpanned at that... seriously?

"I wanted to be secluded from everyone's eyes. It was our ceremony after all, so there was no reason for other people to see it." He smirked at the way his kids were listening so carefully.

"After, I brought your mother to the balcony, where we kissed for the first time, everthing was planned already..." kaito made a 'blergh' sound at the word kissing while Kin awned.

"Shut it brat let me finish. Both of you asked for this... Anyway, I just played a song and we stood there, still with our usual clothes, dancing beneath the moon's and the city's lights."

"What song did you danced with her papa? What song?!"

He cringed at the excited yelp of his daughter and told her to lower down her voice while Kaito smirked.

He sighes in pure embarrassment, covering his eyes with his gloved hand.

"You know that stupid movie that you like so much Kin? Beauty and the Beast?"

Kaito started to laugh while Kin nodded her head in confusion.

"The waltzs where those characters dance. That was the song." He admited while growling.

Kin gasped in amazement while Kaito recuperated from his laughter.

"You two danced to that?!" Kaito asked with a smile while his father glared daggers at him.

"Tale as old as time~" your voice echoed in the air, subsconciously making his knees go weak and shiver at the angelic sound.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while he grunted, not wanting to admit how much he enjoyed your pure scent and sweet and clean skin in contact with his.

"Mama your wedding was amazing!" Kin stood up with a gleaming smile "When i get older can I het a simliar one too?"

You went to speak before you felt your husband's muscles tense as he growled 'you take that back.' While Kaito just gave her a look.

Gosh... now the kid couldn't marry.

[believerindaydreams]

Me: guys I wrote you an *ending*

The unholy polycule I have summoned into existence: tough luck, keep writing

Carla

If there's anything that does suggest their quartet weren't always complete idiots, it's that the community they started seems to have kept going just fine without them.

The leaders are all women, it turns out- Shari, the best doctor they have and busy training more. Sierra, who seems a little scattered but will chat with anyone and offer them a bottle of her homemade Nuka-Cola brew. And Catherine, who describes herself as "useless in the field, but very good at telling you how to plant it."

Catherine being the only one who's also a mother, it's reassuring having her expertise around; even when Daisy is just contentedly napping in her carrier.

"And of course you were the impetus for our gang of four- always the one to put your foot down when a decision needed to be made. Deciding to accept former raiders, for instance- ooh, I was a dither about that and so was Sierra. But you said no, this community was going to take anyone in until they'd proven otherwise, and you did, and why, it's gone very smoothly. Of course, it's easy when there's so much money flowing in- the bottle trade alone, my dear! Caravans are big business these days."

"But the boys," Carla says, rather confused. "Don't they do anything?"

"Ah, well- your husband was always popping off again, you used to call him your own cartographer. Couldn't rely on him, I'm afraid. Vargas we all agreed would be perfect for the Rivet City liaison, so that keeps him busy, and Arcade Gannon...? I don't know if you've noticed, but he is so terribly shy. No bedside manner worth speaking of, he used to joke."

"...then what did I do?"

"Oh, anything and everything! Running back and forth all hours of the day and night, Daisy in her carrier and your hands full of knitting. Directions, breaking up quarrels, assigning schedules and then getting people to do them, which are by no means the same skill- but you could do anything you turned your hand to, it seemed. We were- we were rather intimidated, when you told us that you had to go with your husband. Goodness, please don't do that again any time soon. There's far too much in the wind for you to vanish on us again."

"Then perhaps you had better tell me. Because I am badly out of the loop."

Catherine taps the side of her nose. "It's Margaret, you know- well, it's Three Dog really, but he doesn't say everything that he knows. The Brotherhood has him body and soul- I mean, they do guard the station. But we have a mole named Margaret who works the early morning shift even though she doesn't like it, and it's very kind of her. Because then she can give us the word on things like Liberty Prime being brought online."

Whatever effect Catherine is hoping to make, it's wasted on her. Carla occupies herself patting her baby instead, letting Daisy suck sleepily at her breast.

"And that, I understand, is because Doctor Li's team is planning some sort of...well, plan, about the Tidal Basin water- now they've said that before but the Brotherhood seems to think it's serious this time, because they are planning to send Liberty Prime in to destroy it or something. And that's just as well for us, because if there was cheap water for the taking- why, poof! Nacochtank might as well be Big Town or Dave's Republic, just any old settlement scratching out existence. All those lovely plans of yours up in smoke."

She wishes she'd known this when she'd come back- no, she doesn't. It's taken this long just to be able to recognize people in her own settlement, to rest and bond with her child and start putting Raven Rock out of her mind.

It's good that she left people who could be trusted to carry on without her.

She won't allow that state of affairs to continue; but it was smart.

*****

Arcade

There is nothing so definitely clear cut as remembrance, while he lies flat against the dirt in his own herb garden; but he's sure it's doing him good all the same.

"I don't think I would have even made it here without you," he says affectionately to Boone. Books were all very well up to the point that the constrained walls of the Rivet City Clinic began reminding him of the Enclave; and it's lucky that Boone had seemed to have a knack for those bad patches, his simple presence a trustworthy constant.

His lover grunts, cuts xander greens from the root with his machete. "No problem."

A wave of affection rolls over him, mixed with the inevitable disbelief. He plucks a flower to chew and opens up the lovingly bound thesis he'd found in his tent. Dry, a touch arch, but the contents aren't so alien as they perhaps should be.

Which gives him hope for some type of reversal, although it would be a long way off yet.

"Hey, guys? Family meeting," Manny says.

"I'm here, you're here, Arcade's here," Boone says. "Just get my wife and we can have it right here."

"Behind you."

"Aww, I was going to surprise him with a kiss- well, have one anyway."

"We should move, though," Manny says. "Out of the way of listening ears."

Arcade groans, sits up to dust himself off. "Don't tell me we're going into a subway or a bunker, I've had quite enough of that."

"How about a boat?"

***

So that's how they end up all sitting in a rowboat above who knows how much dirty water. At least they've left the baby on shore.

"Thing is," Manny says, and pauses. "Look. I know none of you are at your best right now, that you have no reason to trust me-"

"Bull," Boone says. "We left Daisy with you."

"And everyone I have met does respect you," Carla points out.

"And I trust them," Arcade says simply.

"Okay then," Manny says, after a fairly pregnant pause. "Look. I gotta know- what is it we're pulling for at this point? A safe life for Daisy? Nacochtank's welfare? Revenge on the Enclave? Cos a whole lotta things are about to go down and before I can start planning, I need to know what way you all want to jump."

"Brahmin before the cart," Carla says briskly. "Tell us what info you have, and then we'll decide based on all the facts."

"Agreed," Arcade says.

So they sit and compare notes, which overlap. At the Jefferson Memorial.

"...you never would help the Rivet City science lab," Manny says, pulling a splinter off an oar. "Never nailed down a reason why, but I suppose we can guess now."

"If we know Autumn will be at the Memorial, I wouldn't mind giving him a bullet for a parting gift," Boone says.

"If the Brotherhood doesn't beat you to it- I wish I knew what a Liberty Prime is," Carla says, trailing her hands in the water. Boone scowls at her and she wipes them on his shirt. "Arcade, what do you think?"

He thinks he'd just like to be at peace, with books and herbs; and feels vaguely guilty that he can't immediately recapture the drive for humanitarianism that landed him in this position. "I think it's going to end with a war starting uncomfortably close to our homes, unless we can do something very clever."

"Such as?" Carla sounds as dubious as he feels.

"Like- a temporary truce of some kind, perhaps while fighting another enemy."

"Ashur?"

"I confess, I can't think of anyone better suited.

Manny heaves a sigh, starts rowing back to shore. "This is gonna need Veronica."

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.7]

Chapter:  Per Aspera ad Astra ‘Through hardships to the stars’

Summary:  Bucky is not handling Y/n’s date with Tony very well at all. 

Warnings:  Fluffy fluff. Some upset Bucky but no angst. 

A/N: Thanks to a certain Anon for the chapter title. Don’t get all cranky with me after this chapter. There’s some soft Bucky in this and it’s all moving in the right direction. It’s a good thing if you look at certain moments. Trust babies. Trust. Send me love because i”m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. Beta’d by the beautiful and talented @lokissoul I love you 3000.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

They have never seen Bucky this upset. Sure, they have seen him angry, pissed even, but this? No, they haven’t seen this. He’s spent their entire shift sulking, pouting like an eight-year-old and now? He’s throwing cereal boxes, towels, and wooden spoons all over the counter with a scowl on his face that could easily stop someone’s heart. The more those little black hands on the clock ticked closer to seven the worse he got. Clint looks over at Sam and grins as Bucky kicks his chair out from the table and slumps down. Bucky is throwing a full-blown fit, and they have to admit it’s pretty funny.

“What’s up your ass?” Sam finally asks after thirty minutes of nothing but slamming cabinets and aggressively loud sighing.  

“Nothing,” Bucky grunts.

“So you always throw shit around the kitchen? You know this is a shared space right?”

“He’s mad because his girl has a date with someone else,” Clint adds with a toothy grin.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Sam rolls his eyes as Bucky continues, “I just can’t believe she’s going on a date with him. You all know what Stark is like. For God sake, he’s taking her Masa. Does she seem like the type of girl that would like that? The last time we went to dinner, she picked the place. We ate at a food truck. A. Food. Truck. She ordered four tacos and then made me buy her and Ori churros and ice cream.”

Sam exchanges a look with Clint and peeks back at Steve behind him who throws his hand up, he wasn’t getting involved in this one. The triad stays quiet letting Bucky’s rage-filled rambles resume, “And yeah, okay. He’s in publishing, and she has her book store, but do you know she doesn’t even like writing? We talked about it. She doesn’t want to get published, and he’s all Manhattan and she’s… Brooklyn. She wears overalls and those little white tennis shoe things! Do they seem like a good fit to you?”

Clint shrugs as he leans back in his chair setting his feet on the table and stretching out. “I mean, yeah. She’s the sweet to his smart ass. She’s the soft and kind to his… dick?” Clint jerks his feet off the time just in time to dodge the spoon that flew by his head.

“I didn’t mean his actual dick. Jesus Buck.”

Bucky turns his hard glare onto Clint and crosses his arms over his chest. “When Y/n gets hurt your wife is the one that’s gonna feel bad.”

“Who says she’s going to get hurt?” Sam asks, humor filling his voice, doing anything he can to push Bucky’s buttons. “This could be it. They could get married. Have kids. The whole nine. We could have little Starks running around in a few years.”

Bucky chews his bottom lip as he lets Sam’s words swim around in his head. He hates it. He hates more than he’s ever hated anything. He truly loathes the idea of Y/n marrying Tony. And the thought of them having kids together? No, just no.  Where does that leave Ori… and him? He knows how selfish that sounds and as much as he wants to be happy for her, he can’t.

“I’ll take it by the queasy look on your face you’re ready to admit you’ve got a crush on the girl?” Sam punches Clint in the shoulder and holds his hand out in front of his face. “Pay up! I told you he was crushin’ on her. Trying to tell me I don’t know my boy.”

Clint shoves his hand away but digs a twenty out of pocket and tosses in Sam’s direction.

“They just met!” He grumbles. “He’s always going on and on about finding the right woman. I didn’t think it would happen that fast.”

These two, Bucky considers them his best friends, his brothers. They watch his back in the midst of the worst and look at them now. Betting on whether he has a crush? Bucky is simply worried about a friend, and they have to try to turn it into some big deal? It doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing between him and Y/n. Clearly, since she’s on a date with another man.

Further proof he’s right, and they are all idiots.

“I don’t have a crush on her.” Bucky clarifies, and Clint snatches the twenty out of Sam’s hand, grinning victoriously.  

“Oh, okay. So we are pretending you’re not in love with her,” Sam’s voice is dripping in sarcasm, and Bucky is so close to kicking the legs of his chair out from under him. “Just so I know how to act. She in on it? Because I have to say she seems pretty smitten on you for some reason I can’t figure out.”

“That’s Ori man.” Clint pipes up. “She loves peanut because my niece is the cutest.”

“First off, I know how cute my niece is. No one is denying my niece’s top tier cuteness. I’m sayin’ there is somethin’ else there. He’s been brooding around the station all day because she has a date.”

“I’m not in love with her,” Bucky says through gritted teeth. It’s annoying he has to have this conversation again. For the second time this week. “I barely know her, Sam. We’ve only known each other a month or so.”

“You talk every day. You’re always grinning all stupid at your phone when she texts you.”

“I’m not in love with her!” Bucky shouts, startling everyone sitting around the table but Sam and Steve.

“We. Are. Just friends.”

Sam drops his spoon back into his bowl of milk and raises a brow at Bucky looking thoroughly unimpressed, “Are you being this stupid on purpose? If not, this is a real issue, and I don’t know if you should be protecting our city.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, looking over Sam’s shoulder at the blond standing behind Sam, brows furrowed in annoyance after listening to all the bickering. “So help me if you don’t get your husband away from me, I’m gonna bury him behind my house.”

Steve takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Alright. Enough. You all have jobs to do. Just because we don’t have an active call right now doesn’t mean there aren’t things to do. Finish up and move your asses.” Bucky relaxes a smidge and stands up from the table. “And stop teasing Buck about Y/n. He’s not ready to admit his feelings.”

The entire table, excluding Steve, immediately breaks down into a fit of laughter.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky grumbles. “I’m done with every one of you.”

The guys, mostly Sam and Clint, are shouting for him to come back but he ignores them and heads straight for his locker. He needs to take a break from all this crush talk, or he is going to string them up to the back of the truck and leave them there till morning. The last thing he wants to think about is Y/n on her date with Tony, and he definitely doesn’t want to talk about it. His phone vibrates against the harsh metal of his locker and despite everything he can’t help but smile when he sees who’s texting him.

[Beck]: How do I look? Good enough to date a billionaire?

The picture takes a second to load, but when it does, it’s as if all the air has been punched out of his lungs. Y/n’s wearing a black tulle knee-length dress that is covered in little gold stars. Spaghetti straps rest of her shoulders showing off the shooting star necklace she’s wearing and the neckline, well it dips a bit too low for her to be wearing that and going out with Stark. God, those black heels? Shit, they made her legs look incredible. She looks stunning, but the only thing he’s looking at is the tiny pink and teal bracelet on her wrist, made of glittering plastic stars.

The bracelet she made with Ori.

[December]: Billionaire or not you’re way out of his league.

-------

This is not the kind of date Y/n was used to. Her idea of a good date? Tacos from that food truck by Bucky’s house. Then maybe ice cream after. That’s her idea of the perfect date. This, though? This is weird food she doesn’t recognize and a fancy atmosphere that makes her feel out of place and… inadequate.  Y/n wrinkles her nose as a plate of some kind of raw fish is placed in front of her, there is literally nothing on that plate that looks remotely like something she would pick out for herself. This is not something she ever wants to eat.

Tony looks up over the bottle of wine that had been placed between them before they had arrived and laughs the instant he sees the expression on her face. He knew Nat was off when she told him to take Y/n someplace elaborate and expensive.  He sensed it the moment he laid eyes on her. Tony tosses his napkin down on the table and rises from his chair.

“I don’t know about you, but I could go for a greasy ass cheeseburger,” he says, grinning, hand held out for hers. Y/n looks up to meet his soft brown gaze and slips her hand into his. He looks down at her plastic bracelet, and his grin widens as he tugs her up out of her chair.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand gorgeous.”

Twenty minutes and limo ride later, Y/n and Tony are laying on the hood of the limo with cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate milkshakes. This is infinitely better than whatever the hell was put in front of her at that weird stuffy restaurant. Although a view of the stars would make it perfect. She purses her lips as she tries to spot their twinkle through the haze of the city lights, but no luck.

“So,” Tony says through a mouthful of cheeseburger. “I know I don’t have the best reputation. I’m sure Nat told you. Or you saw the tabloids. They do love a good Stark scandal.”

“I try not to pay attention to gossip.” She reaches over and wipes ketchup out of his goatee with her thumb, grinning at the faint blush that pinks his cheeks, “But, I may have heard a thing or two. Did you really date three women at once? That seems messy and exhausting.”

“It was both of those things in more ways than one.” Y/n sticks her tongue out like she’s gagging and Tony chuckles setting his fries back down in the inch or so between them.

“At least I know it was money well spent.” He grins as her face twists from utterly grossed out to confusion. “Some of it’s true but most of the more scandalous things… I paid a lot of money to get that reputation. I didn’t want anyone thinking they could tie me down for my money or my fame. If someone was going to get close to me, I wanted it to be because they wanted to spend time with me regardless of what the papers said. Not land a billionaire.”

“That must be lonely.” Y/n whispers, soft, as if it was a secret he didn’t know. It’s a secret she knows more about than she wants to admit. “Keeping everyone at arm’s length so you don’t get hurt?”

“Nah. I’ve got Rhodes and then there is Pep! She’s the light of my world. If it weren’t for her, my company would fall apart, and I probably would have worked right through our date.” Y/n lifts her brow grinning at him, and he smirks rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that huh?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. Probably not.”

-------

“I didn’t know you lived above your shop.” Tony nods towards behind them gesturing at the steps they had just climbed up, the ones that led back down to her shop. “That Aquila painted on the front?”

Her hands freeze as she pulls her keys from her purse, her mouth falls open in shock, and he just grins back at her.

“No one ever spots that!” She mumbles completely and thoroughly blown away. Tony is just full of surprises. She leans back against the front door to her tiny two-bedroom and sighs, “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time. It was nice to laugh for a bit.”

Tony moves in closer, resting his right hand against the wall by her head, and the other finds its way to her hip squeezing against the soft material.

“You don’t laugh very much?” Tony asks softly, his eyes watching her lips like they have been all night.

Y/n shrugs holding her breath as he inches closer and closer to her, their noses bump softly making her smile, “Not– I don’t –Just with Ori and Bucky.”

He halts short of finding out just how soft her lips are and tilts his head to the side “Barnes, huh?”

She laughs and draws her bottom lip between her lips teeth in embarrassment before releasing it to give him an apologetic albeit cheek grin.

“Probably shouldn’t have brought up another man on our date, huh?”

“No. Probably not.” He mirrors her words from earlier with a grin.

Tony takes his chance and leans forward placing a soft kiss to her cheek. A pang of disappointment hits her as he pulls away and let’s go of her hip. No kiss then. “I should let you get some sleep, and I’m sure I have a million emails to answer. Dinner again this week? I promise you can pick the next place. Scouts honor.”

“It’s a date.”

--------

Y/n slips her old NASA hoodie on as her phone pings from her vanity. She half expects it to be Tony sending her another goofy video, but to her surprise and delight, it’s Bucky. She smiles and sits down as she opens it.

[December]: How long does it take someone to piss their pants after you put their hand in warm water? Asking for a friend.

A second later a picture comes through half of Bucky’s face, a huge smirk and in the distance behind him, Sam is asleep on what looks like the most uncomfortable bed in the world and his hand in a bowl of what she assumes in a bowl of warm water. She snorts and shakes her head. These are the men protecting her city from disasters? She’s feeling really safe right now.

[Beck]: What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be putting out fires?

[December]: No fires. You’re safe. I made sure.

[Beck]: I have no doubts I am safe with you.

Bucky held his breath and another message quickly followed.

[Beck]: Princess Orion is looking out for me after all.

Bucky chuckles lowly eyeing his idiot friends before responding, they are all busy or asleep thankfully. He wants to ask about the date. He wants to know if it went good – No. Actually, he doesn’t want to know. Or, does he? If it went well she might be canceling movie night, but she wouldn’t do that, would she? Ori would be crushed, and he’s already picked up The Martian for after bedtime.

[December]: Still on for movie night this week?

[Beck]: Of course. The two of you are the best part of my week.

Y/n hearts flips when her phone vibrates in her hand with ‘December’ lighting up her screen. She swipes up and grins when Bucky’s face appears before her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She whispers softly. “Don’t you have things to do?”

“Nah,” Bucky murmurs in a hushed tone as he gets comfortable on an ugly brown and orange sofa and slips his arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “Why are you whispering? I have headphones in.”

“I don’t know,” she whines playfully. “I felt weird talking loud. It looks like everyone is asleep and you’re whispering!”

“You’re pretty damn cute you know that?” He says adoringly, chuckling under his breath. “Tell me about your day?”

“Okay, but you have to watch me take my makeup off while I talk. I was getting ready for bed.”

“I don’t mind, Y/n.”

Y/n beams in response and props the phone up where they can see each other, but she has use of both hands. She starts to wipe her makeup but keeps her eyes on Bucky, for the most part. “Um, what was my day like… Well, the shop was busy, and I found this thing I want to do in the bathroom. I want to paint dark blue above the tile and then do gold–”

“–Stars on the ceiling?”

“How did you know!?” She asks, ear-piercingly loud, an excited grin on her face. Guess she’s no longer worried about being quiet.

“Just a wild guess, doll.”

He watches her remove the dark shadow on her eyes and then move onto her pink lipstick. It was strange seeing her like that. Not that she doesn’t look beautiful every time he sees her because she does, but this is different. “I liked the lipstick you wore tonight. It worked good with your skin tone and made your smile brighter. If that’s possible.”

“I only wear it on special occasions…” Y/n stops wiping the blush from her cheeks and looks at the camera with her head tilted in question. “Where the heck did you learn about skin tone and all that?”

“Nat and Ori,” Bucky replies quickly.

She giggles and shakes her head, “Okay, enough about my lips. Tell me about your day. What happened? Save any kitties from trees? Did you work on your abs for the next calendar? Better keep them firm, so you don’t disappoint the ‘charity’ that likes sexy men posing shirtless.”

“Oh, you’re in for it the next time I see you darlin’.” Bucky pauses and slowly sits up. “Wait. You think I’m sexy?”

Y/n breaks down into a fit of giggles and hides her face behind her hands mumbling, “I do have eyes.”

“So that’s why you liked the calendar so much. You think I’m sexy. This changes everythin’ doll.”

“Buck!”

Just like that, the date is forgotten.

------

“Aunt Nattie?”

“Yeah?” Nat asks eyes on what she was doing, tucking her blankets around her legs and putting all twelve of her stuffies around her in their proper places around Ori. For her protection of course and her unicorn gets tucked in next to her where Ori can snuggle to her heart’s content.

“Did daddy tell you we saw Y/n?” Ori asks, voice tight, unsure of how to bring up what she really wants to ask.

“He did. He said he fixed Y/n’s door and that cracked front window. Dad also said you got dinner together.” She stares at her niece catching something off in her eyes, and the way she’s gripping sparkles has her worried. “Spill. What’s going on in that cute head of yours?”

“I think daddy likes Y/n…”

Nat smirks and peppers Ori’s forehead with kisses. “I think you’re right, peanut. Anyone ever tell you that you’re pretty smart for an almost five-year-old?”

“Yeah, Y/n tells me I’m smart.”

“Go to sleep.” Nat ruffles her curls and gives her one last kiss before switching off the light on her side table “We can scheme in the morning. Dad needs help planning your birthday, and I think Y/n might be perfect for the job. Good night my sweet.”

Before Nat can make it to the door, she can hear Ori shuffling around and when she turns around Ori is sitting up in bed clutching sparkles to her chest.

“Auntie Nattie?

“Yeah, baby?”

Ori’s arms tighten around her unicorn and she mumbles through the rainbow mane hiding her lips,“I just want daddy happy.”

Natasha smiles.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

Previous // Next