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just-a-messenger · 1 year

Note

Answer them all

Sorry it took so long to answer this anon, but damn you had to go intense with the questions so 🤷

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? I have a really good relationship with my mum, and a not horrendous one with my dad haha

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? My Daughter

03: Do you regret anything?

Yea a few things, but I try not to dwell on them tbh, just gotta move on an do better next time ya know?

04: Are you insecure?

Hahaha yes

05: What is your relationship status?

Engaged ❤️

06: How do you want to die?

Ideally suddenly with no pre warning or suffering in the twilight years of my life

07: What did you last eat?

Pizza

08: Played any sports?

Kinda, I've played a little basketball and football but neither particularly well or often

09: Do you bite your nails?

Yeah all the time

10: When was your last physical fight?

Hmm, probably about 7-8 years ago not 100% sure

11: Do you like someone?

Yes

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

Yea, more times then is reasonable. Insomnias a bitch

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

Nah not really

14: Do you miss someone?

Yea, my mum and my 2 best friends haven't seen them all month cos I've been ill as shit and busy as shit

15: Have any pets?

Yeah a wonderful little bastard cat called Dave ❤️

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

Tired

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

Oh yea many times

18: Are you scared of spiders?

Yeah

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Maybe, depends when I'm getting to go too

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? Probably my livingroom or bedroom?

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

Christmas, that's all ya get this weekend when ya have a 2 year old haha (I do enjoy it tho I must say)

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

Not anymore

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

I do not although I'm planning one soonish

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

Chemistry, English and I was not bad at history, now I'm better with computing shit, I'm not awful at coding

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

Yea a few but not much can be done about it

26: What are you craving right now?

To play Fallout 3

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Yea

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

Yup

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? Unfortunately yes

30: What’s irritating you right now?

Nothing really

31: Does somebody love you?

Yes 😊

32: What is your favourite color?

Purple

33: Do you have trust issues?

Yeah

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

I don't remember many dreams

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? My partner

36: Do you give out second chances too easily? I dunno, I don't think so?

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Neither are particularly easy tbh

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

Probably not but I honestly have no idea which one would be

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

Yeah

51: Favourite food?

Oohh that's a hard one, probably Stuffed crust cheese pizza or Garlic and Mushroom. Pasta with parmesan

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Nah not really, but I believe if you try you can find reason and meaning in most things

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? Watched a video on YouTube

54: Is cheating ever okay?

Nah

55: Are you mean?

Maybe a tad? I mean I try not to be, but my patience is very thin for some things and people make it really hard to be friendly and kind all the time

56: How many people have you fist fought?

Uhhh I dunno haha, somewhere between 7 and 10

57: Do you believe in true love?

Yeah

58: Favourite weather?

Mildly warm and sunny

59: Do you like the snow?

Yea aesthetically but I fuckin hate being out in it

60: Do you wanna get married?

Yea, getting married next year 😁

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

Hell yea

62: What makes you happy?

Lotsa things, the world is always beautiful if you look hard enough, but the main things are probably listening to my daughter spout enthusiastic gibberish, listening to my partner play guitar and sing, staying up to the early hours of the morning with my friends after a day/night out

63: Would you change your name?

Nah probably not

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? Not at all

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? I mean I'm marrying her so? Does that count?

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

Yeah

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? My partner

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? Probably my partner again

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

I dunno, maybe? I think there's more to a long lasting relationship that being "made for each other"

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

Yeah I'd die and/or kill for my daughter, my partner or my cat

0 notes

maddieinwonder · 3 years

Text

Bait & Switch

Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, super fluffy

Word Count: 3.5k words

Plot: Reader reveals that they’re going to buy a Nintendo Switch so Spencer invites them to go together with him. In the process, some feelings reveal themselves.

Author’s Note: My first time writing about Spencer, and actually, my first time writing a fic in a long time haha. Just imagine that this takes place in 2017, although you don’t have to know anything about the Switch in order to read this.

Masterlist

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

"What's got you in such a good mood, baby?" Derek asked, leaning over his chair. Even without looking up, you could feel the smirk that decorated his face. After almost a month at the BAU, you didn’t need to be a profiler to expect this much from Derek. "Got a date this weekend?"

You tried to focus on your paperwork before relenting, rolling your eyes. Still, you couldn't hide the smile in your voice when you shot back a reply. "With this job? You wish, Morgan."

"Give yourself some credit, beautiful. With your looks I'm sure you could score a good looking fellow for a night you won't forget."

"I'm sure you would know all about that," you replied, this time grinning from ear to ear.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your seat has always been across Derek Morgan. The guy was a terrible flirt but also one of the most trustworthy people you knew, so you couldn't keep up a sarcastic mood for long.

"Actually," you replied genuinely, "I'll be lining up this weekend to buy a Nintendo Switch." Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense Spencer stiffen in his chair next to you.

"A what switch?" Derek asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

But before you could begin to reply him, Spencer rolled his chair over and opened his mouth. The both of you knew what was coming.

"The Nintendo Switch. A video game console developed by Japanese company Nintendo that's completely one-of-its-kind, on account of its console functioning like a tablet that can either be docked on a home console and linked to a TV, or used as a portable device with two wireless controllers so you can..."

Not being able to help yourself, you giggled at his info dump. You've always admired how much knowledge he could store in his big brain. But more importantly, you thought he was kind of cute like this. A fire would light in his eyes and it seemed like the world around him ceased to exist.

You only realised you were staring at Spencer when the last bits of his question registered in your mind. "...you going to?"

Blinking your eyes, you snapped to attention. Derek seemed to notice, because you felt his signature smirk return to his face.

"Which store are you going to?" Spencer repeated the question. Anybody else might be annoyed, but he only seemed mildly restless. A rare look for the unathletic genius.

"I'm going to the one three blocks down from here," you replied.

"So am I!" Spencer sat upright in his chair, beaming. You think that this is the most excitement he's expressed to you since you joined the BAU.

Then his confidence seemed to waver. He began tugging at the edge of his sleeve, eyes glancing to the side at nothing in particular when he asked, "W-would you like t-to go together?"

A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it. "Sure! Sounds like fun."

Spencer grinned back, and there was a moment of silence before Derek interrupted the conversation that he began. "Well, I'll leave you and lover boy to plan your date. I'm going to spend my Friday night at the bar."

Your heart thumped involuntarily at the word "date", while Derek turned to Emily. "Hey Prentiss, you want to grab a few drinks and dinner? I'm sure I can get the others to leave work for one night."

"Anything's better than this," Emily shrugged, lifting her mug of already-cold coffee.

Standing up to retrieve her bag, she smirked at you and Spencer, having heard more of the conversation than she let on. "Have a great weekend, you lovebirds. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

She and Derek shared a laugh as they moved towards the Batcave to retrieve Garcia next.

As you watched them go, you feel Spencer's eyes on you and a flush warming your cheeks. You knew they were just teasing you with the word "date", but the truth is you've liked the genius almost as soon as you met him.

You may not have an eidetic memory, but you could still remember the flutter of butterflies that exploded in your chest when you first laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid.

He had waved from a comfortable distance, the other hand tucked in the pocket of his dark slacks. He towered over you easily with curly locks that barely touched his sweater vest, and you swore you've never seen anybody more attractive in your life. His intelligence only added to your attraction.

"Shall I pick you up at 7am tomorrow?"

You turned back to Spencer, who seemed even more nervous now that everybody in the bullpen had left. Yet what he was proposing was rather bold compared to his usual behaviour.

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

“It’ll be easier to find a parking spot that way, and the weather report predicts that tomorrow will be a sunny day, so I know you’d rather not walk three blocks to the store.” He rambled nervously.

“You know me well, Spencer.” A cheeky smile snuck onto your face, and in a moment of false bravado, you said what was on your mind. “7am. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s face turned beet red.

You didn’t wait to dwell on his reaction, dumping the last of your paperwork into a pile and picking up your bag. But as you walked to the elevator, you couldn’t help yourself from grinning ear to ear. It was a date. Kind of.

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

You couldn’t sleep. You had gotten home earlier than usual, but the extra time to plan for your “date” tomorrow proved to be a bad idea.

What would you wear? What would you talk about? Should you extend it to a meal, or dessert, or maybe coffee?

Although you were confident in the moment, you were beginning to regret teasing Spencer before you left. You’d known him long enough to know how he reacted to embarrassment, and there’s a good chance he might back away because of your forwardness.

You groaned, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. The reality of the "date" was sinking in now. This would be the first time that you and Spencer would be alone in a non-work setting. To say that you were nervous was a gross understatement.

But there was something worse than showing up nervous, which was showing up nervous and sleep-deprived, so you turned off your bedside lamp and tried to will yourself to sleep. That's when your phone began to buzz.

You were so on edge that the sound almost made you fall off your bed. Turning over your phone, your heart leapt to your throat.

Spencer, 2:03am: Sorry to disturb you when it's so late, but I realised I don’t have your address. Could you send it to me when you're awake?

You gulped. Just relax, just relax, you repeated in your head.

Me, 2:05am: It’s alright, you didn’t wake me up. I’ll attach my address below.

Spencer, 2:06am: Thanks. Having trouble sleeping?

Me, 2:07am: A little

Spencer, 2:08am: Me too.

What was I supposed to reply to that? You silently screamed. But it turned out you didn't have to figure it out.

Spencer, 2:11am: To be honest, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow.

Me, 2:13am: Why?

Spencer, 2:15am: I suppose it’s because we've never spent any time alone before.

Hearing the genius act so shy made you feel a little more brave.

Me, 2:16am: Well, I'm looking forward to the chance

Spencer, 2:17am: I am too.

Despite your nerves, you smiled at his small confession.

Spencer, 2:19am: We should get some sleep.

Me, 2:19am: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Spence

Spencer, 2:20am: Sweet dreams.

Your anxieties were washed away and replaced with the biggest smile on your face. Without knowing it, Spencer’s words rippled a sense of calm over you, and you fell asleep shortly after.

The next morning, you woke up with a newfound clarity. You knew what you were going to wear.

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

Spencer couldn't stop tapping the edge of his steering wheel. He knew he was nervous, and admitting it to you last night didn't do much to stop that fact from eating away at him.

He texted you 3 minutes ago that he was waiting outside your apartment, but you hadn't replied. Although he knew that there were plenty of logical reasons why you might have missed his text, his hands didn't stop itching to call you and see if you were alright.

Then out of the corner of his eye, you emerged from the corridor and he felt his heart speed up.

You were wearing a blue flannel that he'd never seen you in before with a pair of dark jeans. Your hair, which you usually kept in a up-do at work, was let down in waves, touching your shoulders. And then there was the pièce de résistance, you were wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt with the TARDIS on it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't break his gaze on you the entire time you got into his car. Even when you beamed at him and wished him a good morning, a small yawn escaping your perfect lips, he was completely tongue-tied.

"Earth to Spencer," you called out, looking up at him curiously. "You there?"

Spencer shook his head suddenly, cursing himself internally for being such a doofus. "Sorry, uh, I was distracted. Good morning." He smiled sheepishly, tucking a stray hair strand behind his ear.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee before we headed to the store? We can make it quick. I know there'll be some people already lining up."

He peeked at you rubbing your eyes and thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. “Looks like you might need it," he said without realising he'd just flirted with you.

You giggled, lowering your hands from your face. "Sounds great."

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

Spencer wasn't lying when he said it'd be quick, although in truth you could have taken all the time in the world and you would still be happy. The initial awkwardness between you washed away almost immediately as you fell into a quiet conversation about your favourite Doctor Who episodes.

You wanted to commit the sight of him driving in the morning to memory. The sun had just rose, lighting a gentle halo around Spencer’s messy hair and sculptured face. He was wearing a bigger sweater than usual, the sleeves hanging around his wrists loosely. While his eyes were focused on the road, his lips parted slightly as he softly bantered with you about David Tennant.

You felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and kiss him despite the driving hazard. And despite the fact that you’ve never kissed him, of course. But you could hope. And hope you did.

Your hope had grown when he parked in front of the coffee house you’d once mentioned was your favourite. Spencer made your coffee order perfectly and you had found yourself hoping that it was because he’d paid extra attention to you, and not because of his brilliant memory.

And when you reached the video game store and he opened the door for you, you hoped it was because he wanted to make a good impression, not only because he was a gentleman.

And when he stood between you and a video game rack in line, you hoped that he was trying to shield you from the other people in the store, and you hoped that he was thinking of pressing you against the rack and kissing the daylights out of you.

You needed to get a hold of yourself.

The conversation had swapped to the reason why you two were here in the first place, and you found yourself talking to Spencer about Breath of the Wild, a game that brought you back to fond memories of your childhood.

“The Legend of Zelda was the first video game I ever played, on the first console I ever owned.” You shared, smiling fondly. “It was the video game that my brother and I bonded over, and we bought every game together since.”

Spencer nodded in rapt. You felt him leaning closer to you, although it may have been your imagination.

“This is actually the first time I haven’t been with him for a new game,” you realised. “Due to our jobs, we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but we still text each other!” You tried to end on a lighter note, not wanting to bring the mood down on this “date”.

Spencer looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut.

“What about you? What was your first video game?” You threw the question to him, trying to divert attention away from your sad-enough story.

He blushed in response to your question and looked down at his black converse. You noticed he began touching his sleeve in a familiar motion and you looked at him suspiciously. “Spencer?”

“W-well, the t-truth is, I didn’t actually c-come here to buy a Switch, and I don’t play video games at all.“ The last part of his sentence came out rapidly. You might have missed it, if you weren’t already used to the tongue twisters he spit out on a daily basis.

“What?” You exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the other shoppers in line to glance at you weirdly. “Then... Then what are you doing here?” You said quieter this time. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind scanned the possibilities.

“W-well, I, uh, wanted to spend time with you,” he blurted out. He raised his eyes to meet yours, his face completely red.

It was your turn to be flustered now. Your voice was quiet and you could feel your hands shaking. “Is this a date, Spencer?”

“Only if you want it to be, I mean, I want it to be but your opinion matters to me, and I wouldn’t want to bring you on a date if you didn’t want to. We can just hang out like friends if that’s more comfortable--”

You grabbed his free hand, gently lowering it from where it was moving as he rambled, until your fingers were intertwined.

“I would like it to be,” a large smile took over your face. You were a little teary despite how weird it was to confess your feelings for him in a video game store of all places.

Spencer was quiet for a moment, squeezing your hand in return. “Would you like to go for lunch after this? As a date,” he clarified this time.

"I would love that,” you beamed at him, “as a date.”

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

Spencer had always imagined the kind of girl he would fall in love with. Caring, intelligent, had an appreciation for classic literature, maybe. But when he saw you for the first time, every expectation he held flew out of the window.

You were beautiful. Wavy dark hair tied into a high ponytail, wearing a navy shirt, and funnily enough, a beige cardigan and black converse. Morgan joked that it was like meeting Spencer 2.0, but he disagreed: the two of you were worlds apart.

You were incredibly tech savvy, although not as much as Garcia, but certainly more than the rest. You loved the smell and taste of coffee without sugar. You were happy to hug everybody you met, from colleagues to victims. You didn’t like paperback so you read everything on a Kindle.

But the biggest difference between the two of you, was that you were emotionally intelligent.

All of your brilliance, combined with your PhD in psychology - having worked as a psychiatrist affiliated with Sex Crimes before joining the BAU - you were able to pick out the team’s moods from a single glance. It’s what endeared everyone to you immediately, and what made you such a great profiler.

But the way you treated him was different. You just, listened to him. While everyone else had gotten into the habit of cutting him off or simply ignoring him when he opened his mouth, your eyes would light up instead.

He could always tell you were listening because you would look into his eyes when he spoke, and you would ask him questions after he was done.

It made him feel like the world around him ceased to exist, except for you.

So he started studying your interests to grab your attention, trying to throw in a few jokes hoping to see you smile. It only took one month for him to seize his chance. Still, never in his calculations did he think you would say yes.

He smiled at the thought, stroking your hair gently as you cuddled on the couch together, watching you play Breath of the Wild.

After a more than successful first date, you had asked him to come over the next day to spend more time together. A month ago, he would have politely declined with an excuse like needing to read a new academic journal, but when he arrived at your doorstep he allowed himself to be drawn into your arms, relishing the giggle he earned as a reward for being hugged.

“Damn it,” you grumbled quietly as you ran out of stamina scaling a cliffside for the fifth time.

Spencer laughed. Without a second thought, he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head.

In the background Link fell off the cliff once again, the game playing a sound that he came to recognise as Link dying. But there were no curses this time, as you had turned to look at Spencer, nothing but adoration in your eyes.

“That was our first kiss,” you said so quietly and sweetly that Spencer’s heart melted at the sound of it.

“First?” He took his chance, leaning closer. “You know, the usage of the word ‘first’ almost always implies that there will be a ‘second’ and a ‘third’ and a...”

His voice trailed off as your fingers left the controller to touch his lips. Your touch was intoxicating and he wanted more.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spence,” you started, lifting your finger from his lips. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you-”

“Don’t be sorry,” he managed to get out in a hurry before capturing your lips in his. He felt your astonishment at first, but you quickly lost yourself in the kiss as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of your face, deepening the kiss further.

You finally broke apart after awhile, both panting for air and smiling widely. Spencer never thought he could be so lucky. “That’s the second one,” he said quietly, bringing up two fingers to indicate the number.

You looked at him with love in your eyes and abandoned your controller on the table before throwing yourself at him, flattening the two of you against your couch.

“Ready for the third?”

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

Derek Morgan wasn’t an idiot. That’s why he could tell that something had changed over the weekend between his desk mate and boy genius.

The two came into work together on Monday morning, which was weird in itself, but they also took every opportunity to stick to each other, from coffee breaks to disappearing for lunch and “asking” about paperwork.

When they vanished for the umpteenth time that day for coffee, Derek leaned over Emily’s desk to confirm his theory.

“It’s not just me. Pretty boy finally made a move, didn’t he?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Definitely. Those two are so obvious that even Hotch has picked up on it. From his office.” She quipped, grinning as her eyes moved to the scene behind Derek. “Speak of the devil.”

Entering the conversation, Spencer did what he did best. “Did you know that ‘speak of the devil’ is the short form of the idiom ‘speak of the devil and he doth appear’? The phrase can be traced back to the 16th century when mentioning the devil was considered prohibited. In fact, when people were caught saying the phrase--”

Derek caught your eyes drifting to look adoringly at Spencer. He couldn’t take this anymore. “So what happened between you two last weekend, huh?” he interrupted, smirking.

Your reaction was better than he gambled. You turned a bright red and your eyes darted between Spencer and Derek in panic, truly flustered for the first time since he’s met you. But Spencer was strangely calm, his eyes travelling from his best friend to Emily in the background trying to stifle her laughter, while a small smile tugged at his lips.

“We’re dating now,” he announced to the two a little triumphantly, while rubbing your shoulder as a peaceful gesture.

Derek and Emily were stunned by their friend’s directness, only to be shocked out of it as Hotch walked by. “Finally,” he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear.

You were the first to crack a smile, then the rest followed suit with laughs and congratulations. Hearing the uproar, Garcia and JJ peeked out of their rooms, joining in and demanding more details about this new but not entirely unexpected development.

Amidst the chaos, Spencer laces his hands in yours and gives it a squeeze. For the first time in a long time, you feel unequivocally, unmistakably happy.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Sweet Music Playing in the Dark: Ch. 1- Fire Escape (Craquaria)- Dill

hi everyone!! it’s been a while since i’ve submitted on this blog, but i decided to give it another go! this is the first chapter of a new fic i wrote a while ago and i’m (finally) almost done with the next chapter! you can find me @ drdill on AO3 as well as the remaining chapters of Home (the first fic i wrote)

I hate elevators.

You wait for half an eternity in the lobby fresh off your 9-to-5, only to crowd into a little 4x6 room just like every tired, irritable person around you, then stop at

Every.

Single.

Floor.

Don’t get me started about the summer when sweat becomes a factor. It’s a free, disrespectful sauna. If I didn’t live on the eighth floor, I’d take the stairs, but what sociopath would willingly do that?

It’s a Friday in late May, particularly Memorial Day weekend. The chipping cream-colored paint in the lobby paired with dirty maroon rugs welcomes me off the sunny Brooklyn streets. Most people around are eager to escape for the next couple of days, but I’m sequestered to my apartment to research the new summer color trends. How riveting. The bell rings as the doors open. Walking on quickly, I press the button and seclude myself in the corner. I feel like a fucking sardine, begging no one tries to speak to me as I put my earbuds in. Every “excuse me,” and quick neighbor catch-up is silenced by Bowie and the drums of “Fame.”

Though I’ve never spoken to anyone in this elevator, I somehow know all of them. There’s Joanne, who’s always in a hurry for no goddamn reason, Alan, the workaholic accountant whose undereye bags could be an airport carry-on item, Mike that calls his wife when he gets in the elevator, then gets mad when the signal cuts out, some others whose habits are mildly concerning, and me- the art school dropout. It’s a melting pot of people pretending to have their shit together until they step foot into this building.

I count the floors: 2, 3, 4, 5, and one by one, they shuffle off while I bob my head to the music. Finally able to breathe, I shift out of the corner when I notice a new guy hiding behind Mike. He’s shorter, no more than five and a half feet with umber hair that’s faded on the sides. His wardrobe might as well be a walking Gap advertisement- a powder blue button-up and khakis paired with matching brown belt and shoes. One last person gets off on the seventh floor before it’s just the two of us, causing more confusion when I realize he’s going to the same place I am. Why haven’t I seen him before?

He’s oblivious to my stare, scrolling through his phone. I’d be lying if I said he was my type, but I’d be lying more if I said he wasn’t pretty cute. His pants hug his hips nicely, showcasing his ass before my eyes wander to the front of his-

Pull yourself together, Giovanni. You can’t mind-fuck a stranger in the elevator.

A small hop and the doors open to the eighth floor. He follows me out, still ignorant of his surroundings, ice shuffling around in his coffee as he takes a sip. I reach my door and fumble with the keys when I notice he’s unlocking the door next to me.

That’s…Kevin’s place, as in my very loud, dark-skinned neighbor of 2 years, not this puny white guy. Based on his physique, there’s a zero percent chance he mugged Kevin, so why does he have a key? When he opens the door I hear him enthusiastically say “Hi, Muffin!”

Muffin is Kevin’s cat, so he clearly knows him well enough to be chill with the world’s most evil cat. Regardless, I get inside, throw my stuff on the kitchen table, and give Kevin a call.

“What’s up, G?” He sounds like he’s in a car.

“Hey, I just watched a very small white man walk into your apartment way too happy to see your demon-child.” I’m talking in a low voice as if he’ll hear me through the concrete walls.

His laugh erupts through my phone. “I’m sorry, girl. I totally forgot to tell you!”

“Kevin if this is another guy you met two weeks ago that ‘is definitely the one,’ I’m gonna move out. He’s clearly not your type.”

“Calm down, bitch! It’s just my friend Max. He’s moving here from Seattle in a few weeks and wanted to get a feel for the area. I invited him to stay at my place for the weekend while I’m gone. I just dropped him off from the airport.”

Ah, so that’s Max. Kevin’s mentioned his friend from college a few times but never gave much description. I was imagining someone a bit…taller. And more muscles for a guy with a black belt. It’s underwhelming.

“Rude of you to leave without saying goodbye, but I guess I’ll survive sitting alone outside.” Kevin and I have some intense solidarity from hating our neighbors and sharing a fire escape. Not a day goes by in warm weather without a quick chat on the metal platform. It all started with a false alarm one Tuesday night, causing both of us to run out like idiots and get to talking.

“I’m just going to visit my fam. My sister’s been bugging me to come and see her new house.”

I sigh dramatically. “My blunt and I will miss you dearly, princess. See you Monday?”

“You bet! Love you girl!”

“Love ya, bye.”

I hang up and think about my next move. Do I go over and say hi? That’s way too forward. Do I stay inside all weekend and act like I don’t know he’s here? Well, that would just make me a rude fake-neighbor. Neither sound too appealing at the moment. I settle for a compromise: I will introduce myself…tomorrow- let him get his feet wet a little bit in Brooklyn. I’m sure I’ll be seeing him around more often if he’s moving here soon, anyway. Satisfied with my plan, I make myself a grilled cheese because I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and get to work on my research.

—-

Dusk falls over the city and I’ve spent too long staring at Pantone’s Tumeric and Pepper Stem swatches with reference photos from fashion week. I form a makeshift portfolio for the editors and close my laptop. For finishing ahead of schedule, I roll a celebratory blunt and head for the fire escape.

A deep blue swallows the sky with a bright yellow streak as the sun sets over downtown. The temperature has finally cooled down as I step through my window and touch my sandal on the serrated metal beam. Supporting myself on the railing, I feel the night breeze run across my skin and catch my v-neck before raising the blunt between my lips, sparking the lighter quickly, and inhaling deeply. A quick burn runs through my throat on the first drag, eyes closed as I let the remaining smoke exhale to the sky. The streets are pretty peaceful at this hour, probably because there’s nothing around me but nail parlors, shoe stores, and boutiques that close at 6pm. My temporary neighbor has been suspiciously quiet all day. Normally I can hear Kevin washing his dishes or watching TV when I’m out here, so maybe he’s gone out for the night.

I’m about halfway through my joint when I hear blasting, stark trumpets from behind. Confused, I turn around and detect the sound coming from Kevin’s window, slightly cracked. I creep over to investigate, walking softly so the platform doesn’t rattle, slowly peeking through a slit in the curtain to see Max belting what sounds like “Boogie Wonderland” and dancing around Kevin’s kitchen. Now I can see why they were friends in college.

He’s cooking dinner- some type of pasta, adding pepper on beat and shimmying his shoulders. Those hips of his get put to work, scooting across the floor to grab the garlic bread and place it in the oven. It’s mesmerizing; hilarious, yet adorable, and I can’t look away. I start to realize how long I’ve been staring and get out of sight before he sees me. Somehow, I’m comfortable spying on this man but not knocking on the door and greeting him. Congrats, Gio. You’re officially a creep.

Max must be in a disco mood when the song fades out and “Relight My Fire” immediately follows. I’m giggling at the situation I’ve found myself. This definitely beats the same three Nicki Minaj songs Kevin plays on repeat while he cleans, so I might as well enjoy myself while it lasts. I finish the blunt as I begin dancing around the fire escape like an idiot, bouncing around and singing lightly to myself:

“Relight my fire,

Your love is my only desire,

Relight my fire,

Cause I nee-”

Spinning with my eyes closed might not have been the smartest idea. On my third rotation, my left sandal gets caught on the ladder as I started to move forward. My right knee hits the platform first, followed by my right hand, then elbow, then hip. A loud crash supported by sharp pain in my knee is enough to know I fucked up, and I will probably be getting some company out here soon.

The music ceases. Shit. I hear footsteps getting closer, my back facing the windows. The curtains are pulled back as a voice says “Oh my God!”

I look over my shoulder and see Max open the window and pop his head out. His face reads as really confused, but concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Yeah I’ll be okay,” I reply as I try to push myself up, hissing when I bend my knee. Looking down, I see a trail of dark red run down my leg. Great.

“Here, let me help you clean that up.” He motions me to come inside the apartment. Knowing that I fully don’t own band-aids like a dumbass, I have no choice to accept. I scoot my way over to the window and take his hand.

“‘Tis but a scratch,” I joke, lifting my leg onto the windowpane. He’s laughing while gently pulling me into the apartment. I take my previous statement back about his lack of muscles. His bicep is about to pop through the shirt sleeve, and I wouldn’t have a problem with that.

“I’m Kevin’s friend Max, by the way.”

“I’m Gio. I promise this isn’t a normal welcome to the neighborhood.” I’m shaking my head smiling.

“It’s better than the homeless guy that showed me a magic trick outside the coffee shop earlier,” he giggles.

He puts my arm around his shoulder and rests his at my waist as he walks me over to the kitchen chair, slowly drops me off, and props my leg on another. The apartment is lit dimly, only the lights above the stove and oven providing a yellow tinge to the room. I see a large pan of chicken alfredo and I’m suddenly hungry again. He turns off the burner, runs a washcloth under some cold water, and kneels next to me, lightly dabbing the wound to soak up the blood.

“Hold that there while I get some ice to help the swelling.” Our hands lightly brush against each other as he gets up to go to the fridge. I’m trying to understand the amount of care he’s giving me. He’s such a nice guy; I’m a complete stranger and he’s treating me better than most of my exes.

He grabs a zip-top bag from the drawer and starts filling it with ice.

“So, what brings you to Brooklyn?” I ask him, acting like I didn’t speak to Kevin hours ago.

“I’m getting relocated for work. The publishing company says they need my ‘talents’ in the New York office.” He’s using air quotes, blatantly unamused.

“Jeez, don’t sound so excited about it,” I smirk. He gives a soft smile, closing the freezer door.

“It’s not that I’m unhappy about the job or moving here, I just want more time write my own stuff instead of editing other people’s work.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Trying to be.” He shrugs, coming back to my side and lightly placing the ice above my scrape. I wince as the cold towel touches my skin.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I reply. “It sucks not getting to do what you’re passionate about, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a little bit- the tales of a struggling artist.

“Do you want some wine? I probably shouldn’t drink the whole thing by myself.”

“Red or white?”

“White.”

“I could have a glass or two.” He smiles and heads back to the kitchen to get glasses and a wine opener.

“So,” he says twisting the corkscrew in, “what’s your story?”

I sigh deeply. “Moved here from Philly, dropped out of art school last year, haven’t told my parents yet, working at a fashion magazine on complete luck.”

“Holy shit, how’d you manage that?”

“I modeled for a photographer to make some money right after I withdrew from classes, and he was friends with an editor there who was looking to hire an assistant.”

“Okay, that actually doesn’t surprise me.”

“That he and the editor were close?”

“No, that you were a model. Do you want ice?”

I’m slightly taken back while he pours two glasses.

“Wait, what?”

“Ice?”

“No. Well, yes, but no the other thing.”

“What? I’m not blind. You’re cute.” What a charmer. I’m looking down, containing the huge grin on my face from his line of sight.

“Thank you.”

He hands a glass to me and heads for the bathroom. I shudder when it touches my tongue, further supporting my hate for dry wine. However, it’s free, therefore I will drink it happily. Upon returning, he brings some ointment and various sized band-aids.

“I wasn’t sure what size you’d need,” he laughs.

After drying the area around my wound, he applies the ointment, then gently places the bandage overtop. Every action thus far has been with such tender composure, as if he’s performing surgery. Wiping his fingers off, he grabs his wine and sits next to me- not on in a chair, on the floor with his legs crossed. I think he’s suddenly my type.

We exchange stares with silent smiles, finally giving me time to admire his soft, chestnut eyes that crinkle each time he grins, as well as the little, curled hairs resting on his forehead.

“You’re pretty cute, too,” I blurt out.

“Oh, thanks,” he says, a bit flustered at the compliment. His eyes look away, only to avert to my ice pack that starts leaking. I feel a drop of water run down my leg onto the floor.

“Let me get you a new one.” he starts to stand up. “I can get it.” I sit up and reach, getting used to the pain.

Our hands meet one another’s again as we grab for the washcloth at the same time. A tension begins to form in the air when we lock eyes less than a foot from each other’s face. His lips are slightly pursed, breathing heavier than normal.

It feels like slow motion as I lean in closer and shut my eyes. I feel his left hand relocate from my knee to the base of my neck, our lips separated by centimeters, foreheads touching as I feel his breath right under my nose. My lips brush lightly against his when-

DIIIIIIIIING

The oven timer provides as much warning as the fire alarm. We jump away at the sound, hearts pounding from shock. Max starts regaining his composure before jumping up and shutting it off. He rests his arms on the counter, sighing before looking back at me, holding back a laugh.

“I think my garlic bread is done.” His head falls in his hands as he starts to laugh from embarrassment. I join in as I stand up for the first time, limping over to the counter, and grabbing a potholder. He opens the oven door for me, red-faced as I place the tray on the stove, still laughing.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” He asks me.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since I smelled the garlic bread,” I giggle. He hands me a plate.

—-

I think I stayed at Kevin’s for about three hours. We talked about books, bonded over our dying love for Emma Stone, and gave each other new album suggestions while washing the dishes together. It felt so natural, to the point where we finished the bottle of wine even though I couldn’t stand it. A yawn builds up and I curse myself for getting tired, wishing I could stay until the sun rises.

“I think my bed is calling me,” I tell him. He nods.

“I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, and this time, I’ll try not to trip on the fire escape.” His giggle becomes my new favorite sound after hearing it so much.

Our goodbye was a quick hug, nothing more than the attempted kiss before dinner when I duck out the window and climb into my apartment.

Having this one close to home will be dangerous.

#rpdr fanfiction #craquaria #miz cracker #aquaria #fluff #dill #sweet music playing in the dark #m/m au

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gunnerpalace · 7 years

Text

Utraque Unum

Set in the DSM continuity of standalone KuuKuya works, the day after Para Bellum.

For KuuKuya Weekend Day 3: Intimacy: Kūkaku and Byakuya are left to grapple with their deepening feelings for one another in their own ways. Things don’t go as either really planned. Sort of NSFW, ≈3,820 words.

Kūkaku lightly bit down on the end of her kiseru pipe and closed her eyes, reclining back against the thick oak tree she was situated next to. Smoking inside was the only thing that Byakuya had denied her during her stays at the manor. She'd never questioned it—his house, his rules—and it'd been a good reason to cut back; with the turning of the weather it was also a reason to idle outside too. He never said anything about it, even after they'd started being intimate—not that he ever would, knowing him—but she'd quickly started taking care to clean out her mouth before being around him. She sighed around the mouthpiece. I should probably just quit...

She was almost finished when she heard the rustling of footsteps on the grass that surrounded the tree. Her brows furrowed at the noise. His servants were so damn persistent and worried about her all the time. Was it for her sake, or his, or both? They surely knew some of what was going on... "I said I don't need a blanket," she stated around the pipe.

"Um, excuse me for interrupting, Kūkaku-sama..." a young woman's voice replied.

Kūkaku found she couldn't place it and opened her eyes warily. Standing before her was a petite woman with copper hair and brown eyes. Her fair face was dusted with freckles and she looked fidgety. She seemed rather young and Kūkaku lifted an eyebrow slightly. They hadn't met before, but she might've seen her around.

The woman smiled and bowed respectfully. "My name is Kuchiki Chiyo."

Kūkaku studied her for a little longer before blowing out a final puff of smoke. She brought her kiseru to the small pot she'd brought along and rotated it. With a single tap she dumped out all the ash. Many of the servants—but by no means all of them—seemed to be related to the clan by blood. There was nothing particularly unusual about that, and it was no business of hers to act like she ran the place—she was still a guest. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, I—sorry again—" she began.

Kūkaku sighed again and suppressed a frown. She sat up, leaned forward, and drew up her knees to rest her arms on them. "Go on already."

Chiyo looked up at her tone. Those turquoise-green eyes were watching her coolly. Her smile turned nervous. "Uh… Given your status, and the arrangements that were promulgated last fall, would I be correct in assuming you know Rukia-dono?"

No expense had been spared in making sure everyone in the Seireitei had learned of the arrangement of Ichigo and Rukia's engagement. Word had quickly spread within the clan about other terms underlying the deal. Kūkaku's almost constant presence since then had just served to reinforce the whispers. It was rumored that when she seemed to occasionally disappear for a week or so it was to visit her relatives in the Living World. It stood to reason she saw Rukia then. The last time she'd been absent had been sometime before all the other stories started floating around, but... that had only been a few weeks prior.

Chiyo hadn't seen Rukia since her brief visit the year prior, when she'd suddenly become an overnight pop sensation along with the former intruders. It'd taken her months to work up the nerve to ask, but there she was.

Kūkaku blinked and visibly eased. "Yeah, I know Rukia."

Chiyo's smile became natural again. "If it's not an imposition to ask... how is she doing?"

Kūkaku stared for a second but gestured for her to sit. "How do you know her?"

After only a moment, Chiyo carefully lowered herself down into a kneel so as not to get grass stains her hakama. She couldn't stop herself from beaming. "I was assigned to her when she first came here! Since she became a fukutaichō she's often stayed with her Division, but I'm still on call for when she returns!"

Kūkaku blinked again. A beat passed before she finally let a smirk cross her lips. Memories of Rukia smiling and laughing with Ichigo, Isshin, Karin, and Yuzu flashed through her mind, along with times she'd done the same with Ganju—and with her. "I…" The smirk became a smile. It might not be wrong to call them friends at that point, not just family-to-be. "I think she's really happy."

Chiyo clapped her hands in front of her and locked her fingers together. "Really?!"

It was all Kūkaku could do to keep from laughing at the young woman's excitement. Something about it was so earnest and infectious. "Yeah, really! I have an uncle and three cousins—Ichigo is one of them—and they always treat her like—" she broke off and refocused on Chiyo as she heard her sniff.

Chiyo had brought a hand up to her eyes to hide the fact she was crying. She sniffled again and waved a hand dismissively before pressing it to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should—"

Kūkaku was already in motion. She pushed herself up into a kneeling stance and leaned forward, grasping the woman's shoulders. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Chiyo hesitated before accepting the embrace, her training forgotten for just a moment in the swell of emotion. "I'm just... I'm so happy for her!" Rukia had known so much loneliness and heartache and to hear that she was not even merely content, but finally truly happy was...

Almost immediately Kūkaku felt hot tears spill down her neck. She searched in the distance for a short time before closing her eyes and drawing the Kuchiki woman closer. "It's okay. That's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

They stayed together for a half a minute before Chiyo abruptly tensed as she remembered her station. She tried to pull back. "Kūkaku-sama, I—"

"I said that it's okay." Kūkaku kept her voice quiet and only mildly chided "You're a human being before you're anything else."

Chiyo lightly grasped at Kūkaku's clothing.

She gave the girl a pat on the back of the head.

"Byakuya-sama is... really lucky to have met someone like you," Chiyo quietly ventured, sniffling again.

Kūkaku let out a small laugh only to stop when she heard a tinge of nervousness to it. "Wha—What do you mean by something like that? We're not—it's not like we get along well!" She knew they knew, yet still... this was still supposed to be a ruse!

"He's always such an unyielding pain in the ass," she continued. She immediately regretted her choice of words as a memory of the previous day hit her: being on the wood floor on her shoulders and knees, Byakuya's abs against her as he—her cheeks turned pink and she opened her eyes to have something to look at—something to ward the thought off.

Chiyo didn't react to the slight. "He... was never the same after Hisana-sama died."

Kūkaku abruptly looked down at the top of Chiyo's head.

"It's... it's probably not my place to say, but... When he was younger, he had quite the temper, and he was always breaking the rules. When they were married, he became much milder, but he was plainly happy. When she died, he... wasn't really the same. It wasn't until after the incident with Rukia-dono that I again saw shadows of the way he used to be. With her promotion, those became more common, but..."

Kūkaku blinked as Chiyo looked up at her with a smile.

"It might not show or seem obvious, but... I've had a long time to observe him, if only at a distance. He's... much happier with you around."

Kūkaku stared and only just barely kept her eyes from going wide.

Chiyo closed her eyes and pulled back, easily breaking the hug as she stood and turned to give the leader of the Shiba her privacy. "Thank you, Kūkaku-sama... for everything. Please, be at peace." With that she made her out of the garden, not looking back once.

Kūkaku watched her retreat until she was out of sight, only then leaning back so she was sitting again.

A minute passed before she flopped against the tree trunk and brought the back of a hand to her forehead. The air was still brisk but she felt hot, and she knew it wasn't just her lingering blush or the start of a fever. She shut her eyes. She was—they were both... they were both really in...

... Fuck, she thought, looking about the garden, not wanting to complete the thought.

Byakuya picked up his final stack of paperwork and neatly squared it up before putting it aside on his desk for retrieval. With that he pushed his chair back and stood, considering the Seireitei through his office window as he moved it back. It was still light out, and not simply because it was late spring. He took a breath—he'd decided that today was the day he'd say something—and turned, departing.

He found the door to his fukutaichō's office open as he passed by it, and stopped.

The man in question was hunched over his own stack of paperwork.

"Renji."

Renji started at Byakuya's voice and looked up with surprise. His commander's ability to sneak around over distances like those separating their offices was still unnerving. "Yes, Kuchiki-taichō?"

"I am leaving for the day. Things are in your hands."

Renji blinked and looked backward to confirm the time of day using the light from outside. He turned again with a quizzical look before trying on a small smile. Byakuya had been leaving earlier lately... not that he'd ever specified why. "Big night?"

A scowl crossed Byakuya's features. He walked off without another word.

Renji raised an eyebrow before looking down at his work again. "Was it something I said?"

Kūkaku cradled her hands around her teacup for warmth. The small tea house they had chosen to occupy after a leisurely dinner looked out onto a placid pond. She kept her focus on it. A single candle burned behind them but it did nothing to dull the twinned brilliance of the moon in the sky and water. She took a long gulp to empty her cup before setting it aside. Although it warmed her throat and belly, it did nothing to stop a shiver from wracking her—the days were sunny, if cool, but the nights were still cold.

Byakuya surreptitiously glanced sideways to her. Her goose bumps were obvious in the moonlight. He looked the other way and smoothly pulled off his haori. He knew she'd never admit her choice in attire was still proving impractical.

She noticed the motion and turned to study him quizzically just as he'd gotten it off and was leaning over toward her. She blinked as their eyes met.

Byakuya studied her as he draped the haori over her shoulders.

Kūkaku stared for a moment before her expression became dismissive and she turned her head, decisively looking away.

He watched her for a short time then turning back to the pond. "My apologies, I know the material is cheap."

Her countenance mellowed and her eyelids lowered as she covertly drew the robe close. It was warm from his body heat. "Who said anything about that?"

The corners of his mouth tugged upward fractionally. "I did." She deserved better.

Kūkaku turned to regard him critically. The look on his face was so... considerate. Something about it made her chest squeeze around her heart and she looked down, pulling the haori tighter still around herself. After looking away, she shut her eyes and fought off the feelings surfacing within her.

Byakuya kept his attention off her as he considered how to tell her how he felt.

There was a long silence before she quietly stated "You... knew Kaien." She'd never addressed the interactions of the two of them before.

He blinked. There was a beat before he replied "Yes."

"You never got along." It was a statement. She'd only heard Kaien vent about Central 46 and the Gotei 13 a few times, but in retrospect it wasn't hard to figure out some of it had been about Byakuya.

Byakuya glanced down at the pond. "No. We did not."

"Think you would now?"

Byakuya was silent as he thought about Kūkaku and Ichigo. They were certainly both quite a lot like Kaien in their own ways.

"I think you might," she continued.

"Who can say?" It wasn't really a question.

She drew her knees up in front her and got her arms around them, continuing to look anywhere but at him. "It's not really fair, you know."

"What?”

"You knew him, but I never met Hisana."

For once, he wasn't really sure what to say, and looked aside.

Quite some time passed before she ventured "What... what was she like? Was she like Rukia?"

Byakuya took in a breath and slowly blew it out.

Kūkaku glanced to him before looking down. That was... surely too far. She know how she'd react if someone just suddenly brought up Kaien in front of her without being invited to. She brought her palms onto the floor and began to push herself up. "I—never mind—"

He reached to one side and lightly took her nearer wrist.

Her gaze shot to him in surprise as she abruptly became unsure of everything.

His eyes didn't meet hers, but... talking about such a thing was alright—with her.

Kūkaku searched his face as she felt her heart start to thrum.

Byakuya gently pulled her toward him.

Only a moment passed before she started to move, turning to face him and grasping his far shoulder. She could've fought, and part of her wanted to, but the rest simply didn't. As he slid an arm around her waist under the haori and helped draw her onto his lap, she pressed close to him and slid her free arm around his neck, and brought her head beneath his, resting her face in the crook of his neck. He was warm.

Byakuya kept his attention on the moon's reflection in the still water, but lowered his chin down against his hair, taking in her scent. His hands naturally ran up and down along her back.

There was a long silence.

"She... both was and was not like Rukia," Byakuya eventually said. He was quiet.

Kūkaku stayed quiet, just listening and letting him talk at his own pace.

"Rukia may be both elegant and spirited... but underneath either, there is a gentle earnestness and selflessness about her. Hisana was like that as well, although her expression of such latitude of emotions was more... demure. She was much more... traditionally feminine. She would often conceal her true thoughts and feelings—hide her smiles, stifle her laughs, couch her anger or convictions in flowery or laconic speech... She was subtle, but in her interiority, she was as deep as the ocean."

Kūkaku looked to one side in thought—going by this, she and Hisana couldn't be more different... So why...

"Rukia will usually speak her mind; Hisana tended to let her silence speak for her."

Kūkaku quietly drew in a long breath through clenched teeth, and then let it out. "It sounds like she was very sophisticated."

Byakuya closed his eyes. "She would have found you enchanting."

At that, Kūkaku blinked. What...?

He said nothing more and simply held her. It was hardly the time to tell her now...

As she idled in his arms, her thoughts turned to the morning talk she'd had with Rukia about Kaien on ohigan the prior year. She felt a sudden pang in her chest and stubbornly shut her eyes. So this is what it feels like for the shoe to be on the other foot...

Another seemingly interminable quiet passed between them.

"You still pay your respects, don't you?" She could guess from his periodic absences in the mornings. It wasn't a daily thing, but it was frequent enough to notice.

"Yes.”

"May I join you next time?" Kūkaku had been thinking about why Rukia had wanted to visit Masaki's grave on ohigan, and it seemed evident it had been to ask permission. She hadn't needed it, and neither did Kūkaku—nobody did from the truly dead—and yet... it seemed right to ask anyway.

Byakuya opened his eyes fractionally and glanced down at her crown before closing them again. "If that is your wish."

They sat together as the moon tracked up into the sky for sometime longer until he said "The hour is growing late, and it will only become colder. We should retire."

She settled for nodding in response.

As Kūkaku dried her hair, she kept Byakuya in sight. The bath had been wonderfully soothing to mind and body alike, and she found herself newly invigorated, but her thoughts kept turning to him. He'd been quiet and a bit distant since the tea house, and although they'd cleaned up together, they'd largely kept to themselves.

She had eschewed her yukata and stood there with simply her juban draped about her, open to bare everything. She had nothing to hide from him, she liked him looking at her even if she'd never admit it, and she intended to shrug it off before slipping into bed with him, yet he paid her not a jot of attention. It was confusing, and her emotions were a jumble after everything that'd happened that day—she couldn't help but frown.

Byakuya waited for her, his yukata on properly out of rote propriety and decorum, until she walked by him. He followed alongside her to bed.

Kūkaku cast off the juban and slipped under the sheets without a second thought, getting settled on her side of the bed while Byakuya disrobed.

Once he'd done so and settled into bed beside her, she waited—and when he made no move to embrace her, she decided to finally do something about it. She turned over to face him and drew near, her face across from his on the same pillow. She studied him intently, but his eyes were closed and he seemed rather placid. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Don't give me that," she insisted.

Byakuya opened his eyes and met her gaze, seeing the frustration written all over her face. His lips twitched a bit but he kept his face controlled. "This is not really the time." There was a way to do these things properly...

"According to whom?" Kūkaku challenged.

His eyes lingered on hers, taking in the certitude of their set. She really was adamant about this...

He soon found one of her hands and took it in his.

Kūkaku glanced down at the contact, before locking eyes again, a perplexed expression on her face.

"There is something I must tell you," Byakuya said, once more closing his eyes.

She blinked. Something in his words made her mentally review the day in an instant. He had been working up to something—something that'd been derailed at the tea house, and... Oh, shit...

"I—" Byakuya began.

"Stop!" she commanded.

Byakuya opened his eyes with what was clearly surprise and agitation.

Kūkaku's focus darted all over his face. Yes, he had definitely been about to say that... She scowled and tried to turn back around.

He kept hold of her hand and didn't allow her to. The nerve of this woman... She drives me crazy...

"Let go," she demanded.

"Allow me to finish," he countered.

She drew her other hand up, the one she'd had restored so she could once more truly protect what mattered, this time in order to protect herself—her heart. She clasped it over his mouth. "I don't want to hear that kind of thing!"

Byakuya took her right wrist, and when she struggled, he drew her to him.

Kūkaku fought him for a time, but finally ceased and just hit her right hand against one of his pectorals before getting her forehead to his chin. "Don't tell me that," she harshly whispered.

He let out an exasperated breath, studying the space above her head.

A beat passed before she ran her fingertips over his chest and added, much more softly, "Show me."

Byakuya blinked.

Kūkaku leaned in and ducked her head, kissing her way down along the bottom of his chin and up under his jaw toward his throat, while she slowly ran her hands over him.

He kept hold of her upper arms for a second, then slid his hands up to her shoulders and down along her back, roving them over her with growing surety. At last, he traced one up into her soft hair, and the other down onto her exquisite curves.

Kūkaku arched her back, pressing her rear into his hand while her chest brushed against his abs and ribs. She pushed closer to him, tangling their legs together, wanting to feel him.

Byakuya moved with her and embraced her for a short while, then rolled with her so she was on her back, her head against the pillow, kissing her.

She flexed up against him and held the kiss for a time, then deliberately broke it, cupping his cheeks.

His eyes met hers.

"Show me how you feel," Kūkaku said, somewhere between an entreaty and an instruction, watching him intently.

Byakuya closed his eyes and kissed her again, turning his head to make it deep as he ran a hand through her hair and started to steadily fondle her with adoration.

He was slow and tender with her, from the way he moved to the way his hands grasped and gripped her.

She was on her back at first, rolling her hips in time with him; then she was on her side, one leg between his, the other up over his shoulder; on her hands and knees, his fingers squeezing her flanks and helping her buck backwards; and then finally she was atop him, her fingers dug into his shoulders as he helped her up and down, back and forth.

It was different than all the times before. It hadn't just been lust that had driven them previously, but that had been having sex or fucking one another—this time they spoke to each other in moans and panted breaths, pledged and revealed their feelings in little touches and movements. They made love, gradually building to their breaking point together.

When they came apart, Kūkaku slumped down against Byakuya, finding herself in a deep embrace before she'd even finished calling out her pleasure. She couldn't think of anything at that point but to bury into him, and didn't object when he turned with her so they were on their sides.

Neither said another word, the two of them simply holding one another as sleep quickly took them.

#Bleach #KuuKuya #KuuKuya Fanfic #KuuKuyaWeekend #Byakuya #Kukaku

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ayeletinthemountains · 5 years

Text

Ellis Peak Ski Tour

3/16/19

I recently recruited some new friends in my goal to climb all 63 peaks on the OGUL list. The lure? That I’ll have a party when I complete them all, and you’re only invited if you’ve climbed an OGUL with me. :)

Ellis Peak is on the west shore of Lake Tahoe behind Homewood Ski Resort. The easiest way to get there? Pay for the pricey cat skiing Homewood offers off the summit of Ellis Peak. Since I wasn’t looking to spend a few hundred dollars to bag this peak, my own two legs were the option I was left with. In January of this year, I attempted Ellis with my friends Andy and Brice from the Blackwood Canyon sno-park. This proved to be a pretty long route. We went up Blackwood Ridge to its high-point (which took us about ~3.5mi), and saw the summit was still more than 2mi away — with a lot of descent in between. Plus, it looked like the ski out would be a long slog, and the snow on the ridge we had just climbed was in awesome condition, so we opted to do two laps on that instead.

Fast forward two months to mid-March. The Sierra has had storm after storm after storm this winter, and this is the first clear weekend since the weekend in January when I last attempted Ellis. For a new attempt, I enlisted Leo and Sadie this time (Sadie just so happens to be Brice’s partner — and Brice has already done an OGUL with me, so now hopefully they can attend together ;) ).

Looking for a shorter route this time, I decided it would be worth trying to skirt the north edge of Homewood until we pass the resort. From there, it looked like an easy skin up to the summit (which could be made even easier if we caught the cat track from the cat skiing). Homewood has no uphill travel allowed, so this was my main concern. Would the terrain just outside the resort be too steep? Would it be hard to stay outside the resort (and would employees care)?

We set off from the resort parking lot around 8:30am, passing the lift they have at the base. One employee spinning up a lift asked where we were headed, and we said just outside the resort. He remarked “don’t get caught!” which left me feeling a little uneasy at the start. Once past those lifts, we had to navigate some huge snow banks in a small neighborhood, which was a little confusing. We did manage to get on a slope though and started to head up, hoping we were outside the resort.

We soon came upon a groomed road to our left. We assumed this to be the edge of the resort, so we just kept to its right. The terrain to the right was usually reasonable, but at a few sections it was quite steep and awkward to traverse, so we popped on to the very edge of the groomed road. A snowmobiler (presumably from the resort) passed us as we were on the road once, but they just waved as they passed.

Soon enough the terrain opened up and it become easy to stay just outside the resort. By now the resort had opened, so we could see people coming down the runs. We paralleled the groomed road until reaching the end of the resort, as planned, and then headed up a gully until we reached Lake Louise. We crossed the lake and headed up another slope, where we were able to catch the cat track, making the remaining climb to the summit quite trivial (with the exception of looking over my shoulder every 15 seconds to make sure I wasn’t going to get run over).

The views from the summit were spectacular (as they typically are on a bluebird day from a summit in Tahoe). Desolation Wilderness to the south, Castle Peak area to the north, and gorgeous views of the lake. We took our time eating lunch before transitioning. As we were finishing up, sure enough the snow cat showed up, unloaded a dozen people, and then turned around.

We skied down a more northern aspect than we had come up, hoping to find nicer snow in the very warm weather. We were only mildly successful. The terrain is nice trees, but it was just too warm and sunny. Before long we were back at the edge of the resort, skiing adjacent the groomed road we had paralleled on the ascent. We were back at the parking lot by 2:30pm. Overall, it was a nice tour and a great way to summit Ellis. The terrain back there is nice, though a bit chopped up in a few parts because of the cat operation. Getting around the resort could be more difficult if the resort employees give you a hard time, but I suspect if you head out before the lifts start spinning it’s no problem.

#ellispeak #CA #ogul #March2019 #Tahoe

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