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wandasaura · 2 months

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BURNING BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN

summary — the annual maximoff memorial day barbecue has finally come, but so has a softer side of your dominants

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, mentions of dom/sub dynamics, this is 90% fluff, shower sex, quickie, fingering, oral, nipple stimulation, hickies, its relatively tame in comparison to what lives in this au, domestic fluff, mentions of pietro being dead as fuck, men/minors dni

authors note — remember when i said i was taking a little break? yeah i lied and im not sorry about it!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

The warmth and promise of sunshine had quickly taken hold of Westview, days of long darkness and snow storms came to be just a memory, thawed out by butterflies and the occasional white dove that pecked at the birdfeeder on the back porch of the Maximoff residence. You couldn’t understand how the sky was so much brighter in warmer weather, but as you sat beside Natasha on the cusp of solid Earth, you thought it looked bluer than usual. The crashing waves before you licked at your feet and dampened the shorts you wore when the tide dared to try and swallow you whole, but like changing seasons, it never stayed quick.

Sunrise had barely hit its peak and already the traces of pink and orange were just another mental memory for the big scrapbook of moments you never wanted to forget. The sand was coarse beneath the fingers that hours earlier had been dug into soft blankets, but refreshing and welcomed despite how small granules crept beneath your nails when you picked it up the wrong way. Natasha hummed an old lullaby beneath her breath, eyes closed and face tilted toward the sun like a lonely flower that had managed to grow in an abandoned field. You knew much about the woman's past, but not enough to understand her connection to the star that brought you light each new day. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but you knew that eventually you’d come to know the reason for her methods of relief in hard times.

The first weekend of break had come on quick, and the barbeque that Wanda and Natasha had frantically tried to tidy the house for before your attitude interrupted them was merely hours away. Despite the plans and the people coming over, time had been taken out of the day to devote just to you. In this moment, sitting on the edge of solid ground beneath rays of sun that attempted to burn you, you couldn’t even explain how truly loved you felt.

The beach was empty, void of the presence of others and quiet for your enjoyment, save for the seagulls who squawked over scraps and the waves that crashed against man made piers and naturally jagged rocks. Your toes were coated in sand, your fingers in the same state, but you didn’t care to think about the messy things at that moment, you only wanted to focus on the good. The good was Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close like a stray wave might succeed in carrying you out to sea. The good was Wanda’s perfume that lingered around the collar of your stolen shirt like the scent was woven into the cotton. The good was being here, being free and alive. The good was knowing Natasha. The good was having Wanda. The good was knowing love and having love.

You laid your head down on the woman’s shoulder, noting how her hair seemed to glow beneath the sunlight. In this moment, it wasn’t auburn with scuffs of brown thrown in at the roots, it was orange like fire made by those long before lights and lanterns existed. She was ethereal, sat out beneath the early daylight, bearing her freckles for the sky to adore. You’d attempted to count them earlier, your gaze stuck on her naked face with blemishes and beauty marks sporadically thrown into the mix, but somewhere after thirty they all blended together and you settled for simply looking at them, admiring how you were somehow allowed to see them.

You were happier in spring, happiest in summer, but recently, you have found those seasons in people. Wanda was like the early days of May, where weather was warm but also cold, and sunlight was soft but somehow harsh. Natasha was like summer, late July if you thought about a specific moment. Like the air she was sweet, but like the people she was calm, and like the night she was chaos wrapped up in laughter and loved company. They weren’t perfect, you would never call them such, but they were as close to it as people could get.

A soft smile graced your features, and though you squinted to lessen the sting of sunlight, Natasha thought you looked stunning. When her eyes reopened and her head tilted downward to look at you, there was only affection smeared across her face. Her eyes that were so meticulously different shades of green had a spark within them that could only speak of the happiness she felt. How words had existed for so long and still there wasn’t one to describe the intense feelings that rushed through the both of you, you didn’t know, but you were content enough to rest against her with the knowledge that even if you couldn’t say it, you were both feeling it.

“We’ve gotta head back soon.” Your beautiful moment was ripped into tiny pieces of paper that got caught in the breeze before they made it into the recycling can, and the smile that had turned your lips upward quickly worked in the opposite direction. You shook your head, digging your heels into the sand like the simple action might change her mind and make her forget about the barbeque that was starting at noon. “Not now. I need a couple more minutes of this.”

You giggled softly when she nuzzled into your head, her wild curls tickling your nose because she hadn’t bothered to straighten them yesterday. You reached up, taking one of her curls between your fingers and pulling it taught, letting go to watch it bounce back into place and laid against her forehead with frizzy edges. You sighed in content, running your fingers through her wild hair that couldn’t be tamed in this state. “I like your natural hair.”

Natasha crinkled her nose at your genuine admission. She puckered her lips and let them rest against your finger that was still in front of her face as you softly brushed strands of hair away from her eyes. “My natural hair is blonde.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You rolled your eyes fondly, snuggling even further into her side despite how hot you felt beneath the sun. No matter the weather you wanted to be pressed up into her, and it was clear that she wanted the same, her arm around your waist squeezed you tight, almost daring you to try and pull away prematurely. “When you met Wanda did she have red hair?”

“No, the red is pretty new. It was brown, a little bit longer than she keeps it now. She was really leaning into the whole emo phase. We could never go out together if she didn’t have red lipstick and eyeliner, she always said it completed her look.” Natasha smiled fondly at the memories that came to mind when she thought about the beginning stages of their relationship, and you felt your own heart warm in your chest as you thought about the young couple they had been. You wondered what kind of odds had been stacked against them, but you didn’t question it, happy to just live in this happy moment.

You let your hand fall back into the sand, rubbing circles that slowly became hearts into the malleable surface. The beach would always be one of your favorite places, but sitting beside Natasha made it better, sweeter. “How long have you been together now?”

“Fourteen years.” Natasha laughed, her own hand reaching out to collect handfuls of sand that she let run between her fingers until only a few granules were left in her palm, and then you watched her repeat the process over again. “Sometimes it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago, and other times it feels like I’ve never lived without her.”

“I never hated her.” You admitted, though you had the slightest inkling that Natasha already knew that. She just had a way of knowing things before you did. There was no possible way anyone could hate Wanda Maximoff, and if you somehow stumbled upon the only person in the world who did, you didn’t doubt they’d meet a quick and painful demise.

“I know, moya kroshka.” Natasha laughs softly, so softly the sounds of the waves almost drown her out completely, but you still heard her. You’d always hear her. “It’s coming up on a full year since we started this whole thing, have any ideas about what you want to do?”

You shrugged your shoulders, reaching for Natasha’s hand when she lost interest in the sand. She’d taken her rings off last night and with the early wake-up call hadn’t put them back on. The slightest tan kissed her features around where they usually sat, and gently you brushed the pads of your fingers against the pale skin. “I just want to spend it with you both.”

“We can definitely make that happen.” Natasha hummed softly, laying a gentle kiss on the top of your head where sunlight had kissed your hair. Your roots were warm, hot against her lips, but Natasha didn’t flinch away. You knew this moment was coming to an end, but you could appreciate it for the few seconds longer that it lasted. “Wanda probably has breakfast ready, milaya. We’ve gotta start heading back now.”

“Can we come back?” You questioned softly, not wanting to speak too loud as if it could ruin the quiet atmosphere around you. As you stood, dusting sand off the back of your legs, you winced at the ache in your back when you finally found your feet and steadied yourself on them. Natasha did the same, a quiet groan slipping past her lips when she reached down to collect your abandoned sets of flip flops. With one hand occupied, she reached the other out to you.

“We’ll find a day.” She promised with a nod of affirmation. Your hand fits easily in the palm of hers, your fingers curl around her scarred knuckles while hers lay flat against your unbroken ones. Together you’re a perfect balance. Delicate definitely, but not entirely harmless.

Westview sits on the edge of New Jersey, the air tinged with the permanent lingrance of salt and sand. The farther you walk, the less prominent it becomes, but if you know what you’re looking for, the scent of the shore still remains. Houses closest to the water are painted soft colors that linger in the summer sunrises, vacation homes that are only occupied for a handful of months throughout the year, but the deeper you walk the more mundane it becomes. The town is a muted palette of browns and beiges, fences of white and cars of greyscale. It’s perfectly coherent, acceptably mature, but the Maximoff residence remains the outlier. In the blandness of tans and creams, the two-story house is a soft green color with vibrant red shutters. The cars are normal, though elaborate. Unlike the Hondas and Toyotas that occupy driveways and road space, Natasha’s sleek Corvette Stingray sits beside Wanda’s Audi R8 in the driveway, the only flex of their wealth that’s apparent. You like it though, like how they’re so different from everyone else.

You make sure to kick the sand still clinging to your heels off before you step into the house, and immediately you’re met with the aroma of sweet sugar and maple. Natasha hums at the change of scent, leaving behind the traces of salt that had tickled her nose the entire walk back to the house in favor of discovering what Wanda had prepared for breakfast. She drags her hand across your back as she passes you, seeking out the presence of her wife.

You're slower to follow, taking your time to meticulously stack your flip flops with the rest of the shoes in the entryway. They don’t match the aesthetic of Valentino loafers and Prada heels, but you smile at the sight anyways. Your favorite pair of white converse sit beside the shoes Wanda wears into the office every work day, and your balled up pink socks are tucked into Natasha’s running shoes for some reason, but the little traces of your place here makes you feel at home. You’re not so different from the shore that lingers through Westview in the winter, but unlike the water that’s abandoned when snow falls, they’ll never forget about you when the seasons inevitably change.

“Where did you leave the stray?” You just barely catch the end of whatever conversation has led to that question when you finally appear in the kitchen. The sunlight is golden now, no longer soft with pink and orange, but it falls over Wanda like the perfect blanket anyways. She’s wrapped up in Natasha’s arms, pinned to the stovetop where bacon rests in a hot pan. The only indication that this moment is less than perfect is the hot grease that pops and splatters every other second when Wanda neglects it for too long.

“You know, you should really be nice to me before I start biting your ankles like a real stray.” You hum, your voice carrying through the kitchen like it’s always belonged there, though it’s not a response derived from annoyance like it would have been only weeks ago. Rather, your words are layered with fond exasperation that Wanda finds herself laughing at.

Natasha kisses the lawyer's shoulder, squeezes her waist tightly, whispers something in Russian that’s not entirely audible from how far away you stand, before she pulls away entirely and walks toward the refrigerator. You pout when she pulls out the near empty pitcher of orange juice, setting it down on the island to be poured into glasses when breakfast is ready. It seems you could’ve spent a few more minutes beneath the sun, but you don’t complain. This is just as nice, just different.

“That’s my job.” You sulk, letting your naked feet slap against the hardwood floors as you approach with sadness written across your expression. “Wanda, your wife took my job.”

Natasha only narrows her eyes at you, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips that she doesn’t even attempt to school. “It was my job first.”

“Well it’s my job now!” You stuck your tongue out at her, sulking your way over to Wanda who lets you wrap your body around hers like a baby koala. With your front pressed up against hers, you have to crane your head backward to catch a glimpse of her face, but you're pleased to know she’s already looking down at you. You pout your lips up at her, grinning in victory when she kisses your frown away with a sigh of faux exasperation. “Can I have a new job?”

Wanda laughs at your question, her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts to sit on the skin of your ass that’s still marked from days prior. You sighed in relief at the contact, leaning heavily into her chest when she rubs away the lingering ache that truthfully doesn’t bother you much anymore. It doesn’t last long, there’s still much to be done before noon rolls around, but you soak up every ounce of domesticity this morning has offered. “Sit on the counter and look pretty for me while I finish up with the bacon.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” You giggle after saluting her, wiggling out of her arms and sliding your way up onto the countertop that’s practically become your designated spot since she stopped reprimanding you about sitting up here. Natasha crosses the little space between the edge of the island to where you’re perched watching Wanda cook, and you hum in pleasure when she leans forward to connect your lips.

Your hands wrap around her shoulders and fingers tangle into the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You smile into the kiss, beyond content with the little bubble that’s existed around you since being roused from sleep at five in the morning. A shriek of surprised laughter fills the kitchen when Natasha pulls away from your lips and buries her face in the crock of your neck, a raspberry tickling the sensitive skin as she blows against it. You squirm away from the sensation, but your arms still keep her locked in place.

“Hi, Natty.” You giggle, tugging gently at the loose curls that your fingers are twisted between. She smiles at your happiness, pecking your lips a handful of times before she pulls away and whispers back the same greeting. “You smell like the beach.” You point out, giggling at Natasha’s extravagant eye roll.

“You both smell like the beach and will be taking a shower after breakfast.” Wanda chimed into the conversation, tapping your thigh in warning as she opened the cabinet just beside your head. It had become routine at this point for her to simply work around you, so the clattering of plates beside your ear didn’t bother you much.

When she turned around to grab the serving plate of belgian waffles on the island, your hand shot out to slap her ass, all thoughts of controlling your limbs forgotten. But really, who could blame you when she was wearing the shortest cotton shorts that had ever been sold in stores? Natasha had to bury her face in your neck to muffle her laughter, and you could feel her wide grin against your skin as you smirked innocently back at Wanda who set a firm glare in your direction.

“Behave yourself.” She warned half-heartedly, absolutely no bite to her warning as you’d all just accepted the natural occurrence of the day, your roles as dominant and submissive forgotten about. You liked this exchange, not because you felt any less their equal when they bossed you around and set expectations upon your shoulders, but because it was the faintest glimpse at what life could be if they weren’t married and you were really their girlfriend. “Don’t even think about it, Natalia.” Wanda warned, already knowing Natasha was about to do the same thing you had been bold enough to accomplish.

The redhead merely smirked and shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence as she pulled away from your embrace and brought the drink glasses and pitcher into the dining room. You hopped off the counter the same as you always do, mimicking Natasha’s shrug when Wanda winced at the action. You grabbed the platter of bacon from her hands and followed after the lawyer who had already exited, eager to see where the day ended up, surrounded by the Maximoff’s closest friends and family members.

The shower water was hot enough to create a thick fog on the glass doors and surrounding mirrors in the en-suite master bathroom, but still it felt cold as you joined Natasha beneath the heavy and unrelenting spray. You shivered despite the heat, reaching for the handle and turning it up even hotter, ignoring the Russian’s protests that her skin was actively melting off her bones. You liked hot showers, but you hated hot baths, and somehow you had yet to find a happy medium that worked for the both of you. Typically you’d compromise and switch off between who melted and who froze, and although it was admittedly your turn to freeze, today was not a day where you were willing to sacrifice feeling in your appendages.

You silenced her whines with a desperate kiss, not even attempting to hide your need for her as you backed her up against the cold tile walls and pinned her hands to her sides. Your tongue was unrelenting as it licked and sucked at hers, tasting the minty toothpaste that she had rinsed from her mouth only minutes before you’d sought out her presence. When your teeth bit down on her tongue, just hard enough to send a shock of excitement down to her core, Natasha decided that being pliant in your hold wasn’t working for her.

You shrieked in surprise when your position switched easily, the hands that had been firmly holding her wrists against the wall now pinned at your sides in the same way. You arched away from the cold tiles, effectively smashing your chests and eager nipples together as you attempted to run away from the cold wall.

“Fuck!” You shivered, your lips ghosting over hers. “You have a fucking Stingray and you still haven’t discovered heated walls?! What’s the point of having money if you don’t use it for good things!” Your words were quickly replaced by breathy moans as Natasha attached her mouth to your chest and greedily sucked a mark into your untouched skin; a mark that wouldn’t be easily hidden, especially not with the swimsuit you had been intending on wearing for the party. “Fuck, Nat–” You pushed her head away, hoping you’d acted quick enough for the damage to be only minimal. The smirk on her lips told you that you hadn’t succeeded, and you slapped at her shoulder in exasperation. “Your sister is literally going to be here in two hours, can you contain your vampire impulses until she leaves?!”

“My sister has fucked her girlfriend in my guest bedroom. A hickey should be the least of her worries.” Natasha threw back at you, attacking her mouth to your nipple with purpose. You had ten minutes to sort yourselves out before Wanda came stomping up the stairs and pulling you out of the shower, orgasms or not. You did not want to spend the entire afternoon and evening hot and bothered because you got pussy blocked by a scary Sokovian.

Natasha’s teeth pulled at your nipple, allowing the skin to sting for only a second before she soothed the pain with quick flicks of her tongue. Your other nipple was not privy to the same treatment, but her stumbling fingers attempted to make up for the neglect as she rolled and pinched at the pebbled bud. You shoved her head away from your chest, forcing her down onto her knees and in the direction of where you needed her most. It occurred to you briefly that you should wash her hair as she ate you out, kill two birds with one stone or whatever the saying was, but you quickly backtracked on that idea when her tongue sought out your clit with no lack of drive. Your knees wobbled, your breath got caught in your throat, and desperately your fingers tangled into her hair and pulled her closer. Your hips grinded against her face as she licked and sucked at your nerve with a passion, and you're certain that had the droplets of liquid fire not been falling over her face in a manner that was less than pretty, her chin would’ve glistened with your arousal.

You arched into her touch as your orgasm approached, and Natasha had used the new position of your body as the perfect moment to bury two fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. You gasped in pleasure at the brief sting that came from her actions, crying out her name in pure bliss as she worked you over the edge so quickly you deserved an award for fastest achieved orgasm.

She pulled away with dilated pupils, her own lust not forgotten about. You sank to your knees before her, pushing at her shoulders until she complied with your silent request and was laid out on the shower floor. Unlike you, she didn’t attempt to wiggle away from the flush of cold against her back, and unlike her, you didn’t waste time toying with her nipples. You dove straight into her cunt, lifting one of her legs until it was high enough to drop onto your shoulder. She tasted like she always did, but something about this situation made her more addictive. The spray of the water fell onto her belly, harsh droplets of water tinting the skin pink from not only the temperature but the pressure. One of these days, you’re going to get around to finding out the true pleasure of the detachable shower head, but today was not that day. You didn’t tease, much more intent at working her up and pushing her over before Wanda came to interrupt. Her clit throbbed beneath your tongue as you licked at her, and her walls clenched around your fingers as she pleaded for more.

“Faster.” She moaned, her head thrown back against the white shower floors. The messy sprawl of her red hair was perfectly angelic, but you had no time to dwell on the sight of her as the minutes ticked down to none. Your fingers set into her at a punishing pace, curling into the sweet spot she loved so much until it was just a symphony of your name that rolled off her tongue in breathy whines and moans. You eased her off of the cliff with a practiced ease, giggling softly when she pushed your head away and subsequently caused water to spray in all directions as it bounced off her wrist. “N-Never letting you talk me into a shower quickie again. I think there’s an entire lake in my ears.” She panted, splaying a hand across her belly until she had managed to catch her breath.

“I mean, technically I didn’t talk you into anything. I mouthed you into this.” You giggled, helping her stand and replacing your rough touch with something tender and sweet. You reached for Wanda’s shampoo, not caring that Natasha had her own right beside it. Wanda’s smelled sweeter, and if you were going to be the one to wash the woman’s hair, it would be you who picked the scene she bore for the rest of the day.

You rubbed at her scalp, lathered until it bubbled, and eased your fingers through the knotted locks when it was time to wash it out. Wanda’s conditioner sat in her hair when the process was repeated on your head, and you sighed in relief when Natasha scratched her nails against the nape of your neck before trailing her hands down to your shoulders. Her thumbs worked on the soft muscles between your shoulder blades, and you melted into the firm attention.

“How long can we stay in here before she breaks down the door?” You questioned, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself relax completely. Even if you hadn’t said it, you were beyond nervous to be meeting their family and friends. Some of the people attending their barbeque were big names in the security world, namely Kate Bishop, and you intended on making the best first impression if you were to ever have a career in the same field.

“Three minutes.” Natasha chuckled gently, guiding you under the stream of water so she could rinse the soap from your hair. She conditioned you right after, twisting the strands of your hair between her fingers as she worked out the knots and kinks toward the ends. You rinsed her hair when she was done, dragged a loofa across her skin afterward, and then were rewarded with the same loving treatment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone coming knows how much you mean to us. They’re all excited to meet you.” Natasha kissed your shoulder before she turned the water off and squeegeed the door clean of droplets and steam, stepping out into the cold first before she offered you a towel.

“I know.” You sighed, drying your body as you tried to force your feelings into words. “I just want to make a good impression. These are your friends. It’s your sister. They matter to you and Wanda.”

“And you matter to me and Wanda just as much. If you’re worried about Yelena, there’s no reason to be. She’s going to act like she hates you because she thinks it's her duty as my little sister to vet whoever I choose to spend my time with, but by the end of the night she’s going to have you trapped by the firepit showing you pictures of her dog. When she met Wanda for the first time, she insulted her in Russian because she thought she wouldn’t understand.” Natasha snorted at the memory, and you couldn’t help but grin bashfully at the admission. “You’re going to get along fine, and honestly that worries me. I can barely handle you by yourself.”

“Hey!” You slapped at her side, but couldn’t help the wide smile that threatened to split your lips in half as you stared up at her. “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

“I don’t doubt that, утенок.” Natasha leaned forward to kiss your lips, and you returned the gesture though a crinkle of confusion settled across your brows.

You asked once she pulled away, wrapping the towel tightly around your torso so that you could make a break for the guest bedroom where your outfit for the day remained. “What does that one mean?”

“Duckling.” She laughed, and you groaned knowing that it was going to stick around, at least for a little while. You’d been quite privy to Wanda in recent days, call it making up for lost time if you really had to explain your reasonings, and both the Russian and Sokovian had chalked up your clinginess as acts of a duckling blindly following its mother. If Wanda was anywhere in the house, you were right behind her. Yesterday you had genuinely pouted at the bathroom door when she forbade you from coming in with her when she needed to pee, and unluckily enough for you, Natasha had come into the bedroom at just the right time to watch the scene unfold. “Go get dressed. Yelena said she’s arriving at twelve which really means she’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

You nodded quickly, bolting out of the master bathroom and into your claimed bedroom without a moment of hesitance, not wanting Yelena to arrive before you were dressed. The door wasn’t even fully closed before you were dropping your towel and scrambling to find your bathing suit bottoms in the pile of messy clothes stacked on the dresser.

Droplets of chlorinated water lingered on touches of skin that had yet to be dried by the slowly slipping Spring sun; still a ripple of motion in the pool that hadn’t yet gone completely still with the fresh absence of bodies in the water. The crack of wood submitting to controlled flames accompanied the music of laughter and conversation that happened around you. The evening was long ahead of you, eternal more hours of company promised, but you didn’t feel any obligation to join in on jokes and memories as you fell into Wanda’s lap and snuggled in close, seeking her warmth and comfort as a chill set overtop of you. You’d been drinking all afternoon, being handed hard seltzers and beers whenever anyone noticed your hands were empty. You’d finished a handful of Wanda and Natasha’s chosen drinks, taking it upon yourself to try at least one of every flavor they had laying around the backyard. The flush on your cheeks was near permanent at this point, and though the heat in your ears would be gone by morning and replaced with a headache only Advil and sleep could soothe, the kiss on your cheeks would last days before it settled into darkened skin.

As promised, Yelena had kept you pinned to the edge of the pool when the sun was still at its highest peak in the sky, showing you pictures and videos of the two dogs she took great pride in caring for. Kate had watched for a while, draped across her girlfriend's shoulder as the three of you laughed at a particular video of Fanny and Lucky dressed up in bowties zooming around their daylight drenched kitchen, but she had excused herself to the bathroom before the end was in sight. Maria Hill had been your savior, though you were content with Yelena’s easy presence not to mind your trapped position much while it had lasted. The early hours of the afternoon had been filled with conversation and the act of acquainting, but the later hours had told a different story; a wild one. It was the story of how you had come to find this state of mind, far past the point of being tipsy and well on your way to true drunkness.

You hummed when Wanda laid her palm flat over your belly, keeping you close and safe in her lap. The soft pad of her thumb tickled your belly button as she adjusted slowly, sinking further down into the lounge chair she sprawled across. The sloppy smile on your face was the truest indication of your contentment, and Wanda, though she wondered who had been the one to feed you so much alcohol without her realizing, returned the grin.

Natasha and Yelena were noticeably missing from the circle, but the silhouettes of their wild hair and toned shoulders were figures or darkness in the kitchen that promised a quick return. Natasha, though only an inch or so taller than her sister, wore her curls in a messy bun that slipped lower and lower down her head as the hours carried on. She was easiest to spot from a distance, the shadow of her presence known perfectly to you. Wanda didn’t pay you much attention other than the firm hand on your belly, but you were content to just be with her as she laughed and caught up with the blonde woman sat beside her; Carol Danvers.

“They put up a new plaque for Pietro today.” Carol laughed at the inkling of information she had forgotten to share earlier in the afternoon, and Wanda craned her head in hopeful willingness that Carol would share more. “He would’ve loved it. He’s the only bastard on the squad that was dumb enough to have a catch phrase.”

As if that mentioned catch phrase had been sitting on the lips of every person gathered around the fire, it fell from soft tongues without a moment of hesitation. Messy, not at all in tune, but seemingly perfect to Wanda who smiled when horrible Sokovian accents caught up to her ears and the words her brother had made his slogan lived on when even he didn’t, “You didn’t see that coming.”

Memorial day has never held much significance to you. It had been just another holiday that sat on the start of summer, sometimes warm enough for gatherings like these, and sometimes not. Until you realized that the American flag folded in militant perfection in the master bedroom was a symbol of remembrance, you hadn’t thought it held much significance to the CEO’s either. Even though you hadn’t known Pietro, his life ending years before your path had crossed with the Maximoff’s, you smiled. His name had lingered in conversations throughout the day, and you didn’t question how loved he still was after years of absence.

Wanda’s lips were heavy on the crown of your head when she leaned down to kiss you. You leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest second before they opened and found Natasha admiring the sight of you. Two beers retrieved from the cooler near the pool sat in her hands, one cracked open and extended in your direction.

“She doesn’t need anymore.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop you from grabbing the long necked bottle Natasha offered and adjusting yourself in her lap so that you could sip on it easily, having already spilled one drink down the front of you. With your back against her chest, and your legs situated between hers, you had to crane your neck to catch even the slightest glimpse of her face, but her arms around your torso were the physical assurance of her presence. She rubbed at the skin of your belly that had grown pink and warm beneath the sun, not yet tan, but it would come soon. The hickey on your chest had long since been forgotten, though Yelena had posed many questions of its origin before Kate slapped her shoulder and changed the topic. You’d been accepted without question, and you found that while some of their friends were painfully intimidating, Maria and Carol, they were truly sweethearts who had the same tendencies of protection as your dominants.

When your beer had grown warm, and your cheeks had grown flusher, having been in no hurry to finish it off and replenish it like Yelena was doing, you passed the near empty bottle off to Natasha who had taken it not without an exasperated roll of her eyes and a mumbled sentence along the lines of being nothing but your servant. You had giggled, shrugged your shoulders, and curled further into Wanda who didn’t seem to even flinch at your elbow digging into her ribs.

Despite your determination to remain awake, sleep won over you just as quickly as drunkenness had. Wanda merely rubbed your back in encouragement, being the single factor that had forced you into soft unconsciousness when conversations still buzzed around you. With your eyes closed and your breathing even, no chance of being woken even by the harshest storm, conversation had naturally flowed away from Pietro and onto you, but both Wanda and Natasha welcomed the new topic if it meant having the welcomed opportunity to boast about just how truly sweet you are.

“I see you played the long game, Maximoff.” Maria winked at the Sokovian, her icy blue eyes admiring your innocent form as you attempted to wiggle closer to the auburn haired women who held you tightly. If you could find a way to burrow yourself beneath her skin, she knew that you would’ve done so already.

“Patience rewards those who have it.” Wanda merely smirked in response, running her pruney fingers from hours of holding sweating cans and bottles through your chlorine stiff hair. “She just needed a little encouragement.”

“She wasn’t the only one.” Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping slowly on her beer that despite the warmth, still brought a piece of home over her longing heart. Russians may drink vodka, but Melina Vostokoff had always preferred a beer.

Wanda shrugged, knowing that despite her persistently cold demeanor, she had never truly doubted how her heart yearned for you. “It’s not my fault you brought home a brat.”

“If I remember correctly, you said the same thing when you met Natasha.” Carol smirked over the lip of her can, her eyes burning holes into the side of Natasha’s face, though the Russian pointedly ignored her stare.

“Watch it, Danvers.” She warned, but surrendered to the teasing she had missed in recent months. Life was busy, but they’d always find a reason to come back together.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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loveinhawkins · 27 days

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picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.

And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.

Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.

Then March comes.

And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.

Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.

You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.

But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.

There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.

He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.

What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.

And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.

He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!

He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.

And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.

“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”

And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.

Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.

It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…

Now he’s starting to think that he could be.

Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.

They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.

And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.

Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…

The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.

“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.

Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”

“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.

“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—

Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.

But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.

And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.

As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.

He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.

And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.

But he can hope.

He can try.

#the dynamic between them all makes my heart ache. just working through some thoughts ❤️#eddie and dustin #eddie munson fic #henderfam #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin fic #eddie munson analysis #dustin henderson analysis #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hcs #steddie #eddie and the party #eddie munson ficlet #eddie and dustin ficlet #implied steddie #pre steddie #eddie munson

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thebimbopalace · 15 days

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ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month

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Revolving Around You

Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your ex, Wanda Maximoff, invites you to her wedding. You have no reason to go, but find a reason to stay.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, alcohol consumption, and smoking weed

A/N: I really just wanted to write some Natasha fluff and I used the prompt [ wedding ] our muses are sat at the same table at a wedding for a mutual friend

You stared down at the invitation you had received from your long since ex, Wanda Maximoff, she'd be getting married soon. You really didn't talk much with Wanda anymore not since she got together with Vision, but when you did meet up and talk everything was fine.

You weren't expecting this though. Not this soon anyways as you stared down in shock at the lovely scarlet invite to their Spring wedding two months from now. Should you go? She sent the invite so obviously she wants you there, right? You grabbed your phone, scanning the QR code on the invite. It brought you to a page themed in such a way you could only assume it was their wedding theme. You checked off the box to RSVP. You held your breath after hitting send and even once the confirmation came through. Now you had to go through with it.

The ceremony was beautiful. Outside in the blossoming flower fields and apple trees of a rented out pasture. It honestly was a beautiful sight to behold. You'd gone wearing a light blue dress that fell at your mid thigh and a matching pair of open toed heels. Your hair in a half updo of a bun, the rest falling gracefully over your shoulders.

The reception itself was held in a renovated barn on the property. The table you were sitting at you knew no one. Well you didn't know anyone really at the wedding. You knew Wanda, Pietro, Vision, and the parents.

As everyone found their seats a raspy voice called out, “Looks like you're my seat mate for the next however many hours Wanda decides this reception should last.” Your head turned to see a red head, her hair in various braids. She wore a fitting suit that did absolutely nothing to hide all the muscles beneath the fabric. You could see her ear was covered in piercings along with her eyebrow and septum from the profile view you were currently getting. You couldn't help, but stare at the beauty sitting next to you. As you went to respond to the red head, she was shrugging off the suit jacket. The button up and tie she wore were almost the same as your dress. In fact if anyone were to give a quick glance they probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She hung the jacket on the chair. Turning towards you and as she rolled up her sleeves, revealing the double sleeves of tattoos on her arms.

“Wow…they're beautiful…” you meant to keep that thought in your head, but it slipped past your lips. A blush adorning your face as you turned away to hide.

“Well thank you pretty girl.” She leaned onto the table, all her attention on you as you downed your drink, suddenly feeling like you couldn't swallow. A chuckle falling past the redhead's lips. “I'm Natasha by the way, what's your name? Though I'll probably stick to calling you pretty girl with a reaction like that.” You looked over to see her smirking, another blush coming to your cheeks.

“Y/N…” you spoke quietly, but Natasha heard and tested it on her tongue,

“Y/N…hmmm I think that's a beautiful name that suits a pretty girl like you.”

A few hours into the reception you and Natasha are talking as if you've known each other your whole lives. Once the dance floor opens up after the first dance, Natasha holds out her hand. “Care to dance, pretty girl?” Her sultry voice finds your ears, sending a shiver through you. You don't speak a word, instead opting to just set your hand in hers. The way her hand held yours felt perfect, it felt right.

Her hand in yours, the other holding your waist as yours sat on her shoulder. She led the dance of you two and everything around you faded away. It was only Natasha. All you wanted to do was lean in and kiss the redhead, but you controlled yourself even though your head was swimming from the alcohol you've been consuming.

“You're, like, really handsome and beautiful.” You blurt out making her chuckle.

“Well pretty girl now that we've both said what we think about each other's appearance maybe we could go on a date outside of this wedding?” She offers cocking the pierced brow at you.

“Where do you live?” you slurred, looking up at her.

“New York.” Your eyes lit up, getting up closer to her face.

“Me too!” She smiled, leading you two outside the reception hall. Grabbing her jacket on the way out, setting it on your shoulders. The air had gotten cold now that the sun was down, but a bonfire was being lit by Vision's brother Tony and Wanda's brother Pietro.

You wanted to go over and get a seat, but Natasha had you against the wall. She wasn't holding you there, but she towered over you as she pulled you closer.

“Are you cold?” She asked in a low voice.

“Only a little. Your jacket is helping and your body heat...” Your voice trails off as you wrap your arms around her waist. You looked up at the redhead who took a hand to your cheek. Her thumb brushing gently over your skin.

“I could warm you up a bit more if you’d like?” You bit the inside of your lip, nodding your head as she pulled you against her, lifting you onto your tip toes as your lips brushed together. “Is this okay?” You didn’t answer verbally as you leaned up further to press your lips into hers. Your hands fisting her shirt and you were sure you wrinkled the fabric, but neither of you could bring yourself to care as you went from a simple kiss to her tongue swiping across your lip asking for entrance. When you opened your mouth for her and her tongue made its way into your mouth you realized she had a tongue piercing too, making you moan into her. She pulled you closer and didn’t pull away until you both were desperate for air.

She looked down at you with a satisfied smile. You knew you probably looked a bit hazy, the alcohol still swimming in your brain. You were normally much more reserved than this, but with everything that was happening you would have let Natasha take you right here in front of everyone and not cared one bit. Instead the two of you shared a handful of slow soft kisses as little whimpers and moans escaped you. It had been too long and you wanted her so badly, but one of your major rules was no sex on the first date and this wasn’t even a first date. This is a first meeting.

After Natasha had her fill with kissing you she pulled out a joint, flicking a lighter to it until you saw the paper start to burn, red glowing as she inhaled. As she exhaled she looked up towards the sky. You watched the cloud of smoke leave her lips, your jaw slack as you watched feeling a dampness pool between your thighs.

When Pietro came over he handed you a drink and asked if he could take a hit from Natasha who didn't mind as the two caught up. You stood there in awe, downing your drink, as the two went back and forth with the joint and with conversation.

Eventually the three of you made your way over to the bonfire. Wanda sat on Vision's lap as stories were told amongst friends and family. Natasha had sat down and practically mirrored Wanda when she pulled you to sit on her lap. You bit the inside of your lip as she held you against her, carrying on in her conversations. Your eye caught Wanda's, a knowing smirk on her face making you huff and look down.

“What's wrong pretty girl?” You felt Natasha's cheek press against your arm.

“Nothing…” you tried to lie, but she gripped your hip tight. A moan wanting to rip through you. “W-Wanda was looking…” you quietly admitted.

“Didn't the two of you date for a bit?” You nodded in response. “I'm surprised she let you go for someone like him.” Your head turned to face her. “Wanda's my best friend, but I think she's stupid for letting you go.” You felt your whole body go hot and a puddle between your thighs.

“T-thanks Natasha.” You spoke shyly, turning yourself more into her, burying your face against her. The alcohol was wearing off and you were getting tired without more being added into your system.

“Get comfy sweetie. I'm gonna keep talking with my friends.” Natasha's hand found your back, pulling you close. Her other arm hooking around your thighs to hold you there. You smiled against her. You thought this whole thing would be disastrous seeing your ex getting married, but meeting Natasha and getting to spend the whole evening together. Getting to kiss her and her just holding you in her arms. You hadn’t felt this happy or this secure in...you couldn’t even remember how long. You slowly fell asleep against her chest, listening to her heart beat, the sounds of people talking and the bonfire crackling.

#ley speaks #ley writes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fluff #beefy!nat #beefy!natasha #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female

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3rdgymbros · 1 year

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━ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞!

— pairing; itoshi rin x reader

— summary; in which itoshi rin’s mother and brother assume that you’re dating after the events of the u-20 match. set in the blue lock manager au.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my content and wish to support me. reblogs and comments are appreciated !!

❋ You’ll do many things, but admitting to your parents that you’re cold when they’d told you to dress warmly isn’t one of them.

❋ Certainly, it’s not so bad when you’re running about, but the wet cold seeps into your thin shirt the moment you sit down to take a breather.

❋ Your body is tingling, going numb, and you realize then how chilly it is.

❋ And when it’s time for you to talk strategy with the team, your teeth are chattering so badly that you can’t even speak.

❋ Ego’s staring at you as though you’ve lost your mind, and as you find yourself wilting under the weight of his stare, a jacket hits you square in the face, and its owner is staring at you, his face as impassive as ever.

❋ “Hurry up.”

❋ You can’t quite tell if it’s “hurry up and wear this” or “hurry up and start talking”, but you don’t have it in you to ask.

❋ In fact, you could almost weep in gratitude as you pull on Rin’s jacket.

❋ Of course, it’s much too big for you. In fact, it looks as though you’re practically swimming in the voluminous fabric, and you have to roll up the sleeves so that you can use your hands, but the relief it provides you with is immediate.

❋ Your shivering stops, and wonder of wonders, you can even speak clearly.

❋ There’s a spring to your step as you walk out onto the field with everyone. Bundled up in Rin’s jacket, you’re warm and toasty, shielded from the frigid air. More than that, it smells like him too; something pleasantly light and cool.

❋ It suits him, you think, a smile playing across your lips.

❋ You do find it odd how Rin’s older brother is eyeing you critically from across the field, but you don’t think much about it.

❋ It’s your team against his, after all, and there’s bound to be some tensions here and there.

❋ But the final nail in the coffin happens when a reporter plucks up the courage to ask you about the ITOSHI emblazoned across the back of your jacket.

❋ “Rin gave it to me because I looked cold!” You say brightly, and you even point at him for emphasis.

❋ The flashing cameras going off just about blind him.

❋ Rin swears up and down to murder you.

❋ Later.

❋ When there are no cameras.

❋ No, wait.

❋ His mother is up in the stands, and she’s staring at you like the stars are hanging from your eyes, probably thrilled that her youngest son is being nice and making friends.

❋ She even flashes him a very unsubtle thumbs up, a sure sign of her approval.

❋ So he settles for silently seething and glaring at you instead.

❋ Though if looks could kill, you’d be flat on the floor by now.

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin headcanons #itoshi rin reader insert #itoshi rin imagines #blue lock reader insert #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk headcanons #bllk x reader #bllk reader insert

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trancylovecraft · 11 months

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(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro.

YSIK Masterlist // Next chapter

A Cherry Blossom is a pretty flower, Blooming in the spring and representing renewal and joy. However it is quick to die out in the winter, Shrivelling up with it's beautiful colour following with it. Leaving the memory of it gone yet never forgotten.

The moon shun bright in the obsidian black sky.

The light that came down illuminated a small, yet well kept gravestone.

It was old, Ancient probably, Cracks were illustrated boldly into the corners and wrapped around the granite like spider webs. it seemed it was about to fall apart at the seams, yet held strong.

Flowers of all colour bustled around the bottom, Fresh, Newly planted.

A man sat on his knees in front of the stone, the only motion he made was the light breeze running through his hair, making his ponytail sway in the wind.

This was no man but instead a demon.

All six of his eyes lay transfixed on the carving written dead-centre on the tombstone, Carved with great care and precision to get it just right.

'[F/N] Tsugikuni'

The mans face was stoic and unreadable, but his eyes were filled with great sorrow and regret.

Kokushibo's arm reached out to the stone, Clawed hands tracing over the lettering carved out.

He asked himself

'How did it come to this?'

☆♡☆

"Michi-Nii!"

A young girl in a blue dragon-patterned haori called out from a distance, She could of only been about four or five yet her little legs were fast and let her catch up to her older brother.

Michikatsu turned around, Mildly surprised at his sister's sudden appearance he stopped in his tracks letting her finally reach him.

"[F/N]. I thought I told you to stay at home and help mother today, You know she needs someone to help her out." Michikatsu said, A little white lie.

His mother, While she wasn't in the best condition, Didn't currently need any help and even if she did little [F/N] would not of been able to do much about it. After all, She was still very young.

[F/N] heaved trying to catch her breath from all that running.

"I know Michi-Nii! but I wanted to come watch you fight!" [F/N] said excitedly, A big expecting smile on her face.

Michikatsu looked into [F/N]'s big puppy dog eyes and sighed. He just couldn't resist.

"..Well alright.. But for the record it's not 'fighting' it's sword training, I'm not fighting anyone, Just preparing for the day when I do, When I become a samurai!" Michikatsu said triumphantly.

[F/N] squealed.

"That's so cool! When I'm a big kid I wanna fight with swords and become a sam-u-mai!" She exclaimed.

"Samurai" Michikatsu corrected.

"Samai!" She responded.

"Samurai" Michikatsu said, Extra slowly so [F/N] could pick up the syllables.

"Samrai!" She said with complete confidence.

Michikatsu snorted and ruffled the girls hair, Who laughed in return.

"Nevermind, Let's get a move on then."

☆♡☆

The sun was high in the sky naming afternoon.

[F/N] sat on the grassy hill next to her brother, Yorichii.

They sat together watching Michikatsu over yonder train his sword swings by hitting dummies out in the field. She watched in wonder at his determination and focus to his craft

Yorichii was the middle child of the family, Michikatsu the oldest and [F/N] the youngest.

Yorichii was a mute. Never spoke or made any motion to communicate, However that never stopped [F/N]'s undying attempts of trying to.

This mostly just consisted of [F/N] following him around, Sleeping in his futon when she had a nightmare or just simply talking her little heart out to him, To which he'd always respond with a little smile and a nod, Showing that he was listening.

He was usually a daydreamer, But today he seemed just as transfixed as she was at their older brother's training.

"Yor-Nii, Where are you going?" [F/N] asked as she watched Yorichii wander down the hill towards Michikatsu.

As usual she got no answer, So she got up and followed him down.

Michikatsu was so fixated on his sword swings that he never noticed Yorichii standing behind him.

So when the physics of one of his sword slashes brought him back stumbling into Yorichii that snapped him out of his training fever.

"Yorichii? What is it?" Michikatsu said surprised. His brother had never interfered while he was training

Yorichii stood still and took in a deep breath, He clenched his fists as if bracing for impact. He opened his mouth.

"...I want to be a samurai like you!" Yorichii stammered not only in his speech but also in his stance.

Michikatsu's sword dropped to the ground with a clang!

A shockwave went through both Michikatsu and [F/N], Their brothers first words to them leaving them speechless.

[F/N] however was the first to speak up.

"Yor-Nii! You can speak! Now we can really talk to each other!" She proclaimed excitedly, Making Yorichii wobble when she jumped to hug him.

Michikatsu stood there, It was hard to tell whether he was shocked at Yorichii's sudden speech or the proclamation of his goal which happened to coincide with both his and [F/N]'s.

"Yorichii.." Michikatsu said just above a whisper.

Yorichii looked back at him with a shaky determination, it shook and swayed but despite the odds it stood strong.

Michikatsu's form deflated, Going back to his calm and stoic demeanour.

"Yorichii. You know what will happen when you're ten, Right?" He said quietly, Only hinting at Yorichii's fate as [F/N] had no idea.

Yorichii nodded. Only taking a glance down at [F/N].

"I know. But I still want to be a samurai, I want to be like you." Yorichii said, Still not given up.

[F/N] perked up.

"Me too! I wanna be a.. samurai too! Like Michi-Nii!" She said, Making sure to pronounce 'Samurai' slowly to pronounce the syllables.

"Hey, You got it right" Michikatsu pointed out, Mildly proud.

Yorichii looked down at [F/N] who still was hugging his waist, He smiled.

"Really? All of us want to be swordsmen?" Yorichii asked now a bit more reserved. He scratched the back of his head.

"Swordgirl!" [F/N] said confidently.

"Swordswoman" Both Yorichii and Michikatsu corrected at the same time.

"Swordgirl?"

This will take a while.

☆♡☆

A good few years have passed since then.

The five-year old little girl [F/N] had grown into a blossoming young woman and is now a little younger than her big brothers were back then.

She still wore a resized version of her blue dragon-patterned haori, The only thing that really stayed the same and came with her through her walk of life.

"You know [F/N], I could convince your father to buy you a new haori" Akeno Tsugikuni, Her mother said to her while running a needle through her haori, resizing the fabric to fit [F/N]'s bigger self.

"This is about the fifth time I've had to refit this old thing. I'm sure your dad would prefer you to have a new one, You are coming up on marriage age after all" She softly spoke to [F/N], But her eyes were fixed on the fabric, Stitching with care.

[F/N] shook her head nonchalantly.

"No, Mom. This was a gift from you, It was homemade. You can't just buy that kind of thing from a tailor." She huffed.

[F/N] sat on the edge of her mothers sick-bed, Her mother laid propped up so she could

Akeno smiled.

"Besides, I don't even think I'd want to get married. I like how my life is right now and you know I still want to be an onna-musha, right?" [F/N] said.

True, Even after all these years [F/N] still held onto the goal of becoming a Female samurai, An onna-musha.

However it seemed like a pipe-dream. With her father's influence and strength she had never picked up a sword, No matter how hard or surreptitiously tried to steal or borrow one of her brothers swords she was always caught in the end and given a right punishment for it.

Still, This never changed her mind on the matter.

"I see... Still haven't given up on that dream, have you?" She hummed.

"Well anyways, If you're so invested into my own sowing then maybe-" Akeno broke out into a fit of coughs, She dropped the needle in favour of covering her mouth.

[F/N] quickly rushed over to her side.

"Mom? Mom, Are you alright" She said, Lightly patting her mothers back.

Akeno stopped sputtering out coughs but still softly wheezed during breaths.

"I'm.. Fine, Sweetheart" She spoke, However her hoarse throat said otherwise.

"No, You're not! You don't need to fix my haori, We can continue later but right now you should lay down." [F/N] worried.

Akeno shook her head.

"I said I'm alright but.. could you go fetch me.. Some water?" She breathed heavily as if all the air around her had thinned.

[F/N] quickly nodded and rushed out the room to complete the task.

She swiftly opened the shoji doors to her house and made her way over to the water-well sat upon the hill. She hoped to the gods above that the well hadn't dried up in the early summer heat.

She reached the small little well and peered inside, The water in the well was plentiful. [F/N] sighed in relief and proceeded to wheel the bucket on the rope down the stony passageway.

CLASH!

[F/N] jumped at the sound, Letting the rope slip from her grasp she watched the bucket fall from its steady pace and hit the water with a loud splash!

"No!" [F/N] yelled. The well was too far down for her to reach the bucket. She cried out in frustration and looked over at the source of noise that dominoed the bucket falling.

Over in the valley beyond the hill was Michikatsu, Still out training with his sword. It was fairly early in the morning and judging by the sweat-beads on his face and the mess of his clothes [F/N] could tell he's been up training since six at least.

That's right, Along with her, Michikatsu had changed as well.

From the strong yet stoic young man that [F/N] had grown up with he had festered into a more strength obsessed yet quiet young man than what he had been before.

[F/N] knew the catalyst well, He was her brother after all.

Yorichii from that day he proclaimed his want to be a samurai, Had demonstrated an inhuman talent for the skill. A man who was working with their father had humoured Yorichii and decided to teach him a basic stance.

However to everyone's surprise, Yorichii had landed four blows on the man and swiftly defeated him. Which is something that Michikatsu never could.

From then on Michikatsu grew a bit darker, Maybe not noticeably. Not noticeable from her father, mother or even Yorichii. But [F/N] could tell.

She barely saw him anymore, Well it was more of she never talked to him anymore. She still watched him train, at least from afar.

An idea clicked in her head.

The bucket in the well was too far down for her to reach, Yes. However it wasn't too far for Michikatsu who was a foot taller than her.

She walked down the hill, Calling out for him.

"Michi-Nii!" She called out to him.

Michikatsu stopped swinging his sword and turned around to look at his little sister with an annoyed scowl on his face.

"What? Can't you see I'm a bit busy at the moment" Michikatsu hissed.

[F/N] froze for a moment.

"I just need a little help, the bucket in the well fell into the water" She explained softly, Scared to entice her brothers wrath.

Michikatsu groaned.

"Alright." He said simply and quickly headed over to the well. [F/N] followed after, Smiling.

"Thank you, Michi-Nii!" She said thankfully.

[F/N] grabbed onto his hand to hold it, But she was shaken off by Michikatsu.

"I told you to stop calling me that, It's stupid and childish" He said, grimacing.

[F/N]'s smile was put out like a light, But she nodded. Trying to respect his wishes.

They got to the well and Michikatsu fished out the bucket with ease and handed it over to [F/N] who bowed down in thanks but with much less emotion put into it.

With that, Michikatsu walked away without a goodbye. Off to go and continue training for the rest of the day and coming back home in the dead of night, Just to go to sleep and repeat the process over and over again.

[F/N] frowned but took the bucket of water back to the house.

Sliding open the Shoji doors she entered the house, remarkably more downtrodden than before.

As she walked the halls towards her mothers room she heard two voices arguing in a hushed tone.

"She doesn't want to get married."

"Too bad. She's coming upon marriage age and if she doesn't want to disrespect this family she will do as she's told and marry the man we've picked out for her"

The two voices, Her mother and father.

She slipped quietly behind the half-open shoji door, Intently listening in on their conversation

"She want's to be an onna-musha, You know." Her mother admitted.

"An onna-musha. Really." Her father responded, A tone full of disgusted shock ran through his voice.

"That girl is too weak to even tend to the horses. Not to mention the girl's only worth will be to marry her off to a nobleman. Her being a samurai along with the men would just be wrong" He said.

There was a silence not just between [F/N]'s parents, But her too.

She's known her father hadn't particularly paid attention to her nor did he show any affection but to think he thought this lowly of her was a gut punch to the stomach.

"Don't say that, Akuhei. She could be listening" Her mother said in a whisper.

"I hope she is. She needs to learn the truth sooner or later or she'll grow up and be delusional to the real world."

[F/N] let tears flow from her cheeks, Dripping down onto the floor.

If she couldn't even get a bucket out from a well, Could she really be a swordswoman?

☆♡☆

Something wasn't right.

It had been a good few hours after [F/N] had eavesdropped on her parents conversation and it had fallen into night-time.

[F/N] had long gone to bed but she wasn't able to fallen asleep easy. It was strange, No matter the situation she had always had no issue with falling into unconciousness.

She rolled and scuffled around on her futon uncomfortably. Could it of been the conversation earlier? No. Couldn't be that, It was something else.

[F/N] rubbed her eyes and got up from her futon. She shuffled on her sandals and quickly draped her newly-sized blue dragon haori around her figure for warmth.

She decided to go for a walk to clear her head.

[F/N] walked softly in the darkened hallways of her home, The soft moonlight illuminated her pathway through the house. She was lost in her own thoughts from the events of the day.

Her father's words, Michikatsu's attitude, Her mother's illness. It all swirled in her mind like a hurricane.

"..I like my life how it is right now"

The words she had told her mother. A lie.

She hated how everything was right now. Her dad saw her as an object to be bid on. Michikatsu acted like she was nothing but a burden to him and Yorichii was nowhere to be found.

Besides, Even if Yorichii and Michikatsu weren't talking either they were obviously the more important in the family.

They were the Sun and the Moon, Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi.

[F/N] wasn't a celestial deity or a celestial body, She was just the terrestrial afterthought. Yorichii and Michikatsu were both skilled and talented in their own rights, They were fawned over by the girls and even some of the boys in the village. They were praised and respected.

[F/N] wasn't even allowed to leave the house.

Now that she thought about it, There was only was her and her mother.

Her mother.

While walking she had stopped in her tracks. Light shone in through the hallway from an open door.

Her mother's door.

[F/N]'s brow quirked. Was her mother up this late as well? She should be asleep, She was very ill after all.

[F/N] peeked through the doorway, Her eyes widened.

Yorichii stood over the bed, Her mother layed motionlessly on the bed.

"Yor-Nii?" [F/N] asked.

Yorichii turned around, A strained look in his eyes. His jaw stood locked tight as if there was something painful he had to say.

"Mother has passed on" Yorichii whispered.

What?

No, No. No no no no no. That couldn't be right, No. It couldn't be right.

[F/N] stumbled over to her mother, Shoving Yorichii out of the way to whom backed off.

"Mum, Mum. Wake up, Hey. Hey, Do you hear me?" [F/N] cried, She grasped onto her mother's limp hand, She shook it in futile attempt to wake her.

"Mum you can't, Mum please." Tears started rolling down her cheeks now, Her breathing laboured.

"Yorichii, Please did you try-"

She turned around, Yorichii was nowhere to be seen.

He had left.

He had left and hadn't even bothered to try and comfort her.

She stared in shock, Not believing her situation

She was brought back by a hand squeezing her own.

She snapped her head back down to her mother, Whose eyes lain weakly on [F/N]'s. A soft yet painful smile appeared on her face.

"Mum!" [F/N] choked.

"[F/N]..." Akeno whispered. "Come closer.."

[F/N] Nodded and leant down closer to her mother, Kneeling down now to listen closely. Her eyes never leaving her mothers

"I never wanted to be married... My father had sold me off at a young age as well." Akeno started.

"I had a chance.. Once.. To leave this place, To get out of my marriage but do you know what happened?" She asked, Looking mournfully into the eyes of her youngest, Who was now choking on her sobs and tears rushing out from her eyes.

Akeno didn't wait for an answer

"I didn't take it.. I was too afraid." A sad smile came upon her.

"My life had ended right there since I never took that chance.. And the only good thing to ever happen after that... were you three."

"[F/N].. Yorichii.. Michikatsu. My beautiful children" Akeno let tears roll down her face now, Reminiscing on her life that was flashing before her now.

"Please.. You now have a chance. Get away while you still can.." Her other hand wiped the tears off of [F/N]'s face weakly, However her hand started to fall.

"Run.. and I promise I will see you again, The kami will reunite us... I love you, [F/N]" She whispered, Her hand falling to her side and the others grip becoming limp. The light in her eyes fading.

"Mum... Mum! No! no no!" [F/N] sobbed, Shaking her mothers now lifeless corpse she collapsed to the floor and cried out for her mum to come back, to speak to her.

"Run, You still have your chance"

Her mothers voice rang in her head, It echoed throughout her entire being.

And with love and tears, She kissed her mother on the forehead and closed her dead eyes. Akeno's face displayed rest, peace.

She said her final goodbye's to her mother and left the room to go back to her own.

And with a heavy heart and a rucksack full of essentials, She climbed out her rooms window and left in the dead of night.

☆♡☆

[F/N] trudged through the woodlands.

It was now daybreak, The sun rose upon the distance and shown through cracks in the tree's.

Through all that time [F/N] never stopped walking, Never took a break. The only thing on her mind was escape to a better place.

It was only once she appeared upon a clearing did she stop walking.

In front of her was a rundown Shinto shrine placed upon the mountainy and rocky terrain of the woods.

It had obvious that people hadn't been here in decades by the dust, cobwebs and poor conditions of all the archways and cracked stone lanterns lining the pathway up to the shrine entrance.

Back in it's heyday it would of been grand. A massive shrine that could of held a good few hundred people, As there was a large amount of corridors and a second floor.

Not to mention the vast courtyard [F/N] now found herself standing in.

She breathed in the highland forest air, Took in the birds chirping and the warm light of the sun on her skin.

She looked upon the sign hanging from the archway.

"Inari Ōkami"

The kami of Foxes, Agriculture, Fertility, Tea, Sake and Swordsmiths.

[F/N] frowned at the state of the shrine, Thinking of it as a great disrespect to Inari.

Another thought ran through her mind.

Home. A rundown one for sure, But nothing she couldn't fix.

And that's what she did.

For the next ten years that's what [F/N] did. She fixed the Archways, Refilled the stone lamps, Rebuilt the structuring, Cleaned up the cobwebs and dust all until it looked newly built.

Everyday since she came across it she would give offerings to Inari Ōkami. Ranging from nuts and fruit she would pick up while scavenging to Flowers and pieces of jewellery.

She'd light candles in their honour, Pray to them not for good fortune but for the reformation of the shrine.

She'd grown attached to the shrine, So much so that she had completely forgotten her goal of becoming a swordswoman in favour of being the sole shrine-maiden.

And in that time she had finally bloomed into a beautiful young woman and if anyone should come across her they would describe her as such.

Not that anyone came along though, The shrine was in the middle of nowhere and [F/N] had seen no one in the past decade.

As [F/N] got up for another day to tend to the shrine she wondered what her brothers were doing now.

☆♡☆

[F/N] carried her basket full of fruits, Satisfied from a successful scavenge.

She headed back up towards the large archway that was there to greet people into the temple. It use to be covered in splintered wood but thanks to the efforts of [F/N] the archway was restored with a fresh coat of paint and smoothing of the wood.

When she got up there she stopped, Her eyes widened.

The massive wooden doors to the thick stone wall gate were left wide open.

She was sure she had closed them when she had left.

Her body stiffened and her palms became sweaty.

Who could be in her shrine? Nobody came up the mountains and the nearest village was a good few dozen kilometres away on the far other side of the forest. No one who was just wandering could come across the temple.

[F/N] slowly put the basket of fruit onto the ground, Making sure not to make a sound.

She unsheated her Kaiken from her obi and slowly made her way inside to the courtyard, Which seemed empty.

But she looked upon the main building and just like the gate doors the shoji to the main building were left wide open.

[F/N] confirmed her suspicions. Someone was definetly here.

She made her way inside, Checking the main hallways she found no one around however that never made [F/N] let down her guard.

THUMP!

[F/N] flinched. The sound of an object knocking over came from just down the hall she was facing. Gripping her Kaiken tighter she moved forward towards the sounds

As she got closer, She heard a duo of voices arguing.

"Stop moving, Brother."

"Argh, If you'd let me do it by myself this would go much faster."

"No. You're injured, let me do it."

Wait..

"I'm told you I'm fine. It's just a cut."

Those voices..

[F/N] lowered her Kaiken. She stood, legs shaking. Heart pounding as she slowly called out.

"Michi-Nii? Yori-Nii?"

A sudden shuffling was heard in the room across from her.

The semi-shut shoji doors slammed open and out first came Michikatsu, Who had a semi-wrapped bandage around his arm with Yorichii following close after.

They were in their twenties now and were much older and their faces had changed a lot. But no matter how much they had physically changed [F/N] recognised her brothers, Who both now had surprised yet unrecognisable expressions in their face.

[F/N]'s mouth was open, Her eyes wide and sparkling with recognition.

"[F/N]..." Yorichii said.

"Yori-Nii! Michi-Ni-" She was cut off by the sudden arms pulling her into a tight hug. Michikatsu had moved so fast that she didn't see him move.

"[F/N].." He stuttered, Swaying back and forth while hugging her.

"Nii-san.." [F/N] cried, Gripping the back of his purple hexagonal hakama tightly as she buried her head into the side of his neck.

"You've grown so much.. And look at that" [F/N] grazed the hilt of of his sword, taking in the craftsmenship.

"You've both become swordsmen. I'm so proud, I wish I could've been there to see your ceremony" She whispered.

Michikatsu never responded to her words, instead going into a speech of his own.

"[F/N].. I lost you. You disappeared out of nowhere.. I searched for you for years.." Michikatsu was lost for words. If [F/N] didn't know better she could of sworn he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Michi-Nii. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I went" [F/N] whispered.

The bear hug grip on her got tighter.

"Never. And I mean never leave me again. You have no idea what you put me through... You better promise" He scolded. [F/N] nodded vigorously.

"I promise."

☆♡☆

"So this is where you've been living for the past ten years?" Michikatsu asked, Looking around the haiden.

The place was a massive hall dedicated to worship of Inari. at the very end was the main worship shrine, Which was bustling with hand-woven straw baskets filled with offerings and lit candles in Inari's honour.

"Yeah.. When I ran away ten years I came across this place and made it my home. Been like that ever since." [F/N] smiled, Proud of the hall.

It was indeed very pretty, The new refurbished decorations of flowers, candles and banner-work created a grandiose appearance. The wooden pillars supported the tall height of the room and had beams at the top connecting them all with baskets filled with flowers hanging from them.

The entire room looked like it was built and cared for by an entire team of shrine maidens, Not a single dust spot to be seen.

Yorichii and Michikatsu stared in awe at the work.

"And you maintained this place all by yourself?" Yorichii asked, Genuinely in wonder at the décor.

"Well.. Apart from the occasional seller I meet when I'm scavenging for food nearest the road.. They sell me candles, Banners and other things needed for maintenance.. It's all done by me." [F/N] explained.

"It's.. Impressive. To think how you learned all this.." Michikatsu said.

"I get all my information from the shrine's library, From then on you figure it out on the way." [F/N] responded, Completely humble to the praise she received.

She turned around to her brothers with a smile.

"What about you two? Tell me what's been happening, And how'd you get that cut?" She asked innocently, Pointing to Michikatsu's bandaged arms

The two twins looked at each other, Having a silent conversation with each other. Contemplating what they should tell. Both of them very apprehensive, they shared a knowing look between them.

[F/N] frowned.

"..Is it not something you want to tell me?" She asked.

"Well.. It's hard to believe but-" Yorichii started.

"It’s just a mistake from sword training. Don't you worry about it." Michikatsu finished.

Yorichii looked over at him, Surprised at his sudden interruption.

[F/N]'s eyes narrowed. She felt curious but decided to drop the subject.

"Well anyways.. I need to go retrieve my fruit basket from outside and do my morning rounds around the shrine. Feel free to have a look around, Just please don't touch anything " [F/N] said, bowing her head low and heading towards the exit.

"Hold on, I'll come with you" Michikatsu said, He went to follow after his sister but was stopped when a hand pulled him back.

"Go on ahead, [F/N]. Michikatsu-Nii will catch up." Yorichii said. [F/N] nodded.

She said goodbye in the form of a hug, Michikatsu then Yorichii.

Michikatsu shot Yorichii a scorning look.

"What do you want?" Michikatsu hissed, The usual irritation of his brother turned up a notch.

"We need to tell her, Nii-san. So we can help her set up wisteria around the place." Yorichii argued.

Michikatsu gritted his teeth.

"Wisteria would be a good idea. But we don't need to tell her about demons, I mean look at her! She's still young" Michikatsu said, exasperated.

"She's eighteen, Nii-san. More than old enough to know about demons, about how to protect herself." Yorichii countered.

"She won't need to learn how to protect herself If I'm there to do it for her" Michikatsu hissed.

Yorichii's face scrunched up. He took a step forward towards Michikatsu and stood steady.

"Nii-san, I know you and [F/N] were attached by the hip when she was young but you can't always be there for her, She's strong enough to survive on her own but not strong enough to survive a possible demon attack, So we need to inform her. She won't let us plant wisteria around the shrine without a very good reason " Yorichii argued, His point stood stronger than he did.

Michikatsu's teeth gritted and his face was a visage of concealed anger like they were standing in the eye of the storm waiting for the inevitable onslaught.

"You always need to know better, Don't you Yorichii?" Michikatsu spat in a low tone.

Yorichii was surprised at Michikatsu's sudden animosity towards him, He was confused. This had never happened before.

"What do you mean to imply by that, Nii-san?" Yorichii asked, Slight worry coming over him for his brother who seemed restless.

Michikatsu suddenly became aware of his sudden outburst, His shoulders dropped from their previously stiff position. He sighed.

"Nothing... I shouldn't of spoke out like that." Michikatsu said, Quickly bowing his head to Yorichii he began to leave the shrine hall.

"Where are you going?" Yorichii called after him.

"To go find [F/N]. And make sure she's alright" He responded, Leaving the hall in search of his little sister.

☆♡☆

Michikatsu looked around the shrine for [F/N].

He walked the halls, checked the empty rooms, searched the courtyard, looked around the perimeter of the shrine and scoured through the shrine's impressively large and overflowing gardens but turned up empty.

He was frustrated. Where could she be? The forest surrounding the temple was fairly thick and shading and who knows? A demon might of been able to cover itself in the foliage and maybe she had left the shrine to pick up her basket only to come face to face with the monster and-

Michikatsu couldn't think anymore about it.

Sweat beads started forming on his head, What if she ran away? She couldn't, she sworn to him that she'd never leave him again. She couldn't of done that to him! What if she wasn't happy to see him and took the chance to leave while he was being lectured by Yorichii?

Yorichii.

Did she favour him over Michikatsu? When you were hugging him to say goodbye he could of sworn you had hugged Yorichii just a little bit tighter than him, Smiled a little bigger, Looked a little happier.

As he searched the halls for a second time he felt another burst of envy rise up in him, Something that had been occurring more and more lately.

His thoughts stopped when he stepped on an uneven dip in the ground. He felt around with his foot and outlined a frame of sorts.

He looked down to see he was standing on a rug. He then looked up realising that he was at the end of the hallway.

He reached down and pulled away the rug revealing a trapdoor, Assumedly leading down to the basement of the shrine.

A basement? Shrines don't usually have basements, He thought to himself.

He noticed the padlock on the handle was unlocked It was also spotless without a trace of dust, Indicating that it was used often.

He opened the door with a small creak of the wood. It revealed a short stone staircase which lead down to a low-ceiling hallway.

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow. He looked left and right before going down the stairs slowly. One step at a time.

He got down to the bottom of the stairs. The ceiling was certainly low as it grazed the top of Michikatsu's head making him feel uncomfortable in the small passageway.

He walked along the tunnel, each of his footsteps producing a faint echo as he went along. The tunnel was comparably cold to the early summer heat from up top.

At the end of the passageway was a wooden door, It looked old and rigid. Looking at the rest of the shrine this was a surprise for Michikatsu as the rest of it was pristine and in perfect shape compared to the derelict looking door.

He reached the door which he now realised was opened just a slight amount.

He pressed his ear to the door, Listening intently.

The sound of cloth on metal sounded on the other side. It was a sound he recognised well, It was polishing of a sword.

He pushed the door open to find [F/N] sitting on her knees with a strange looking sword in hand, a dry cloth in the other.

"Michi-Nii!" [F/N] jumped in surprise and dropped the cloth.

She sat in a much wider room than the hallway. The stone walls were filled with holding frames and shelves, The majority of them empty but still a good few holding rather precious looking trinkets.

At the end of the room which was facing the door and [F/N] held a sort of table harbouring a headpiece stand, Which was obviously suppose to hold the sword in her hands. It was also home to a kitsune mask hanging above it with eyes that looked like it was staring right through him.

"How'd you find the room?" [F/N] said rather surprised.

"Never mind how I found it. Why are you here?" He asked sternly, As if he was scorning a misbehaving child.

"Why am I in a room inside my own shrine?" [F/N] scoffed lightly.

"More of why didn't you tell me where you were, I was worried and I couldn't find you anywhere." He asked more forceful in tone.

[F/N] seemed confused at his reasoning but chalked it up to him still being a little shaken by their reunion.

"...I'm sorry... Coming in here to tend to the artefacts here is apart of my weekly rounds." She explained. A meek look appearing on her face.

Michikatsu sighed.

"Alright then. But please, Tell me next time you wander off into some hidden basement." He said in a softer voice leading to [F/N] calming down.

"What is this room anyways?" Michikatsu asked, Examining the room.

[F/N] peaked up, A sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Oh! Well according to the blueprints and builders logs I've found in the library this room was specially built to hold the shrine's treasures. Oh! Wait, hold on!" [F/N] exclaimed.

She reached over to the table in front of her and pulled out a fairly tiny roll of parchment paper, Unfolding it she displayed it to Michikatsu who looked down reading it.

"Apparently one of the noble-clanswoman paying for the building of the shrine here had a really steamy affair with some hot-shot samurai who use to gift her a TON of gifts" [F/N] explained with a passion, Her eyes held a glint of story.

"So to hide them away from her husband she built this little hidey-hole so he wouldn't discover them" She finished.

"What happened to her?" Michikatsu asked, Entertaining her passion.

She only shrugged though.

"No clue, The rest of the parchment was torn and I haven't found the other half..." She said, Disappointment filling her voice.

Michikatsu nodded and looked towards the sword in [F/N]'s lap.

"I can understand the other little objects around here but a sword?" Michikatsu said dumfounded.

[F/N] shook her head.

"No! No. The only two items in the room that weren't a gift was this sword and the kitsune mask hanging over there" She said, Pointing towards the kitsune mask hung by rope.

"Then what are they doing here?"

"They're the shintai that were suppose to be worshipped here at the shrine." [F/N] stretched over and tugged the hanging mask off the rope and presented both it and the sword to Michikatsu, Signalling him to take it.

As he did she told him to be careful while holding them.

The sword was nothing similar to any Katana he's wielded, Nor was it like anything he'd seen in the country. Instead it was built like a very large medieval English sword with the only hint of Japanese influence being the blue hilt which resembled the typical katana.

One side of the sharpened blade was covered in a sort of second sharper metal which glimmered azure in the dim light of the room.

The mask however was oddly designed compared to the usual festival mask. It was made of porcelain and its eyes were carved in a sort of wide eyed stare, The whites of it being a dark black and the pupils sapphire.

Thick cerulean marks adorned the mask, Swirling around the mask and centring at the bullseye of the mask. Except for the ears which were deeply patterned with swirls and flower-esque designs culminating at the covered tips.

The two items radiated a sort of energy from both which Michikatsu couldn't place.

"They're twin artefacts. It's said in the shrines folklore that they belonged to Inari Okami themselves gifted to them by their father, Izanagi. And from the heavens above they dropped them on accident and both the sword and the mask fell to here, The mortal realm" She explained with low wonder.

"The sword is named very bluntly as "The Soul Sword". It's called that because it's said by the previous shrine maidens that when a person is killed by the blade the soul of the person is absorbed into it and prevented from passing onto the afterlife. An eternity in the blade." She told as if it was rehearsed, It probably was.

She pointed to the Mask

"The mask however isn't named but it's said to warp the body of the user to their desire, Disguising themselves completely." She said.

"And does it work?" Michikatsu asked, Studying the mask.

"Haven't tried. It's a sacred artefact of the shrine. It would be a disrespect to Inari if I did." She stated.

Michikatsu examined both of the artefacts as [F/N] rambled away on the tale of the two, They were very well kept.

"You really know a lot about this stuff. Don't you?" He said more of to himself.

[F/N] nodded.

"Yeah. I guess it's just something I'm passionate about" She muttered.

Suddenly, Their conversation was interrupted by a voice upstairs calling out.

"Nii-San! [F/N]!" Yorichii called out from up above them, Voice faint and muffled from the thick stone walls.

Michikatsu groaned being mildly annoyed at being interrupted by Yorichii. [F/N] perked up however.

"That's Yorichii. Better go see what he needs!" She said. [F/N] grabbed both the sword and the mask from Michikatsu's grasp and settling them back with care onto their designed positions, As well as rolling up the parchment paper and putting it under the table

She dusted off her beryl coloured haori and got up from the tatami mat she was sitting on.

"Come on, Better not keep him waiting!" [F/N] said making her way out without waiting for Michikatsu, Who quickly followed after.

They made their way back up the stairs to find Yorichii a few metre's down the hall. He was standing there watching them come up with an arm stretched out, A crow perched neatly on it with a small roll of parchment paper tied to its neck by a string.

"What is it, Yorichii?" Michikatsu asked eyeing the crow.

"Oyataka-sama has summoned us to the headquarters, Urgent meeting." Yorichii said, a tint of unhappiness in his voice.

Michikatsu's face scrunched up in resentment, Obviously not excited by the news.

[F/N] frowned.

"..You've got to leave?" She asked looking up at Michikatsu who looked back with her with an expression saying that he didn't want to. But Yorichii's voice maintained importance.

"..I suppose so.." He said reluctantly. Not wanting to leave his sister alone. His eyes expanded with an idea formed in his head.

"Why don't you come with us, [F/N]?" Michikatsu asked going to stand next to Yorichii. The crow once perched on his arm squawked once. And with a flap of its wings it took off out an ajar window.

[F/N]'s palms suddenly got sweaty at the thought. Her shoulders felt heavy and slumped down with her face portraying one of heavy adversion

She shook her head, Michikatsu's face fell.

"It's not a long trip if that's what you're worried about, If you get tired we can get a horse or I could carry you-" Michikatsu was cut off by [F/N]'s hum of disapproval.

"It's not the trip. It's just I really don't want to leave the shrine unattended y'know?" She asserted. Evidently after spending an entire decade in it's walls she had grown dependant and attached so much to the point she couldn't journey far out of it.

"You can leave the shrine for a few days. Just please come with us, It'll be fine." Michikatsu reasoned, a small ounce of anxiety rising up into his chest at the thought of her being left.

[F/N] shook her head again.

"No, I'm sorry. But it's not forever, You can still come visit!" She spouted in an asking tone, Waiting for him to confirm.

Michikatsu shared a look with Yorichii. Yorichii's look told him he agreed with their sister while Michikatsu's only told of aversion.

However feeling outnumbered in the situation he reluctantly sighed and agreed to [F/N]'s proposal.

With a heavy heart and bag of food [F/N] prepared for their journey, Michikatsu spared one last look to see her before heading out into the forest.

☆♡☆

In the five months that passed from that day forward were probably the happiest days of [F/N]'s life.

Every few days her brothers would come and visit her at the shrine after a mission and they'd stay for around two days before the crow came along and the process started all over again.

She'd even arranged them their own little rooms and the crow would come in advance to announce their arrival so she could prepare them food.

It was nice to be reunited with her family after a decade of solitude. The routine they got into was nice and became sort of domestic.

Though, Over the months [F/N] couldn't help but notice a sort of tension between Michikatsu and Yorichii however it was one-sided. Only Michikatsu initiated it while Yorichii was none the wiser.

It seemed more aggressive as the months went on. Michikatsu focused more on his training similar to what he did when they were younger. He'd have more hostility towards Yorichii and weirdest of all he seemed much more clingy and possessive towards her.

However [F/N] didn't like to think of it. While she knew it was there and she knew they'd have to talk about it at some point, She decided that it'd be better to wait for the right time to bring it up.

Everyday [F/N] would get up at around seven in the morning to do her rounds, Collect food and pray to Inari for an hour or two before going out to the main wooden shrine steps to sit and wait for her brothers to return.

When they did they would eat together, They'd tell stories of their mission no matter how surface level and vague they described it. They'd train outside in the courtyard while [F/N] watched from the steps in awe at their skill.

She recalled back to her childhood and her dream of becoming a samurai like her brothers, While it was true she now favoured the shrine over that old fairy-tale it didn't mean that she still didn't ponder over it often, Daydream while she brushed the floors, Envision the swing of a sword when she spun the brush around.

However of course, It was just a pipe dream. Just a silly pipe dream. But often she asked herself: Why not both?

[F/N] watched Michikatsu from the steps as he practiced sword swings in the shrine courtyard, Taking occasional glances at his sister to make sure she was watching him. The thought ran throughout her head. While she hadn't picked up a sword before other than The Soul Sword (Which at times, She lightly swung it around before setting it down. Then right after feeling ashamed for using a sacred artefact she proceeded to pray for forgiveness at the altar)

She was sure she could try.

While Michikatsu was swinging his sword she had got up from the step with a stumble. She wobbled a little and grabbed the handle bars to steady herself.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked down the stairs which suddenly seemed like a herculean task.

She set her sandal-covered feet onto the courtyard with an unnecessary effort and started walking towards Michikatsu who was only a few metre's ahead of her.

With every step she took her body seemed to get heavier. It felt like weights were being tied to her ankles every time she lifted her foot.

The distance seemed to widen between her and her brother. Her eyelids seemed to get heavier too.

And with another single undignified step her knees collapsed on her. She fell down to the floor with a thump! as her body relaxed and crumpled over on the ground.

Her eyes got blurry as she saw Michikatsu rush over to her tired body and listened to him shout out something she couldn't hear

She closed her eyes and untensed her body. Falling into the pitch black void of unconciousness.

☆♡☆

[F/N] lay motionless in her bed.

A wet cloth lay over her forehead and a light blanket was lain on top of her.

It was two months since that day she collapsed. She was carried by Michikatsu and was rushed to the nearest village where she was seen by a doctor who gave her the diagnosis.

It was her mothers illness, Turning out to be hereditary and passed down onto [F/N]. However this seemed to be more severe and had developed into later stages quickly.

The doctor had said that she should be put in bedrest but despite Michikatsu's yelling and paranoid yelling there was no cure.

The first few days consisted of Michikatsu being hunched over her bed refusing to leave her side. Over the two months he had grown even worse than he did before.

He was angry before. Competitive, Hostile, Aggressive you name it. But now?

Now he was paranoid, Jumpy, Clingy piled on with all of those traits before.

Yorichii couldn't get through to him, He didn't hide his ire towards Yorichii now and hissed insults at him whenever he tried to speak to Michikatsu.

The first month was Michikatsu searching for a cure. He'd travel from village to village trying to find a doctor who could cure [F/N]. He scoured the Shrine's libraries and had gone mad trying.

Four days ago he had told [F/N] that he was going out again and that she was not to leave her bed unless she was going to get food or do her prayers, Which [F/N] had begged to be allowed.

He had stocked up enough food and water in the pantry for his trip when he left.

He told her that he would be back in two days, It was four now. Yorichii had been with her the first month but after he was called out on a very important mission he never came back.

When she asked Michikatsu what happened to him, He wouldn't tell her.

To say [F/N] was worried was an understatement. Michikatsu was never late, He'd always sent his crow to let her know even if he was.

Suddenly she was aware of a loud creaking. The main shrine gates.

Michikatsu must be back, [F/N] thought. A rush of excitement ran through her and overpowered the cold sweat of her sickness.

She'd gotten up from her futon and wrapped herself in her blanket to prevent the cold winter air from bothering her too much.

It was snowing outside. A blizzard had grown strong while she had slept earlier. Before when she was well in the health department she had prepared well for the winter and could survive during it, Making the inside of the shrine warm all throughout the season.

Now however that she depended on her brothers who were nowhere to be found the cold permeated the hallways and stung the tips of her fingers and nose.

She shivered and slid open the shoji doors to hobble through the hallways towards the courtyard, Ready to greet Michikatsu.

However when she quietly opened the door she wasn't greeted by Michikatsu. But instead two strange men with swords standing in the snowstorm. who hadn't seem to notice her yet

"This is it? Seems rundown." One of the men said

"According to his crow this is where he has been staying for the past few months. He must be here, Someone must pay for what he did and hiding here won't prevent what's coming to him." The other growled, Anger etched onto his features.

[F/N], A little insulted at her shrine being called run down, Made herself known by letting out a loud cough.

"Who are you? And what are you doing at my shrine?" The girl asked

The two looked up at the source. Their hands jumped to their sheathed swords as they looked up at her in antagonism.

They slowly approached her, So much so that they were now standing under the wooden porch roof.

[F/N] stumbled back in a way of getting distance between her and the men.

The one that called her shrine rundown stepped forward. He bowed down in respect to her.

"Greetings there. We're sorry to trouble you but we're looking for a man. His name is Yorichii Tsugikuni. He wears hanafuda earing's and his hair in a ponytail. Have you seen him anywhere?" He said.

Swords. Right. These must be Yorichii's colleagues. [F/N] relaxed slightly.

"Oh, You two must be his co-workers!" She exclaimed, Relief flooding her system.

She curtsied in respect.

"My name is [F/N] Tsugikuni. I am his younger sister, Unfortunately I haven't seen him for a month or two and I don't know where he's been. Apologies." I sighed.

The two men looked at each other.

"Sister? You're his sister?" The angrier one said, A hint of hostility in his voice.

Suddenly a chill ran up her spine, Something was wrong.

"Uhm.. Yes." [F/N] said with caution. Though she was tempted to lie, It just wasn't in her nature.

The angrier man now referred to as Man A gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword tighter.

"Well. I don't know if you know this but two months ago your brother... Messed up, Per se. Causing a great loss towards the demon corps..." He said. His words implied something unknown to [F/N]. The corners of her lips twitched. Demon corps? Messed up? The meaning eluding her.

"A lot of people got hurt. Including our father." Man A sneered. His face the exact visage of vengeance.

Man B behind him wasn't as such but still held a face of stone.

The realisation of what was happening hit [F/N] like a freight train. Her hands grew sweaty as they quickly rushed the shoji doors.

"I... I am so sorry to hear that. B-But unfortunately my brother isn't here right now... I've got to go tend to the haiden. Please, Come back later." Her voice trembled and shook despite how much she tried to keep her tone steady and confident.

As her hands tried to quickly shut the shoji doors the metal of a sword stopped the doors from opening fully.

[F/N] yelped and stumbled back from the door. The two men forced their way into the shrine hallway. [F/N] felt her back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry about what is to happen. But Yorichii Tsugikuni needs to pay for what he did and the death of his sister will bring about our revenge. Please forgive us." Man B said finally unsheathing his sword.

Run.

[F/N]'s feet grew light as she took off down the shrine hall, The two men hot on her tail as she careened round the corners and throughout the shrine.

She felt her heart pound heavy in her chest. Both from the almost paralysing fear and the illness coursing throughout her system.

Her legs felt weak but carried on. Her pace just a little bit faster than the men behind her despite all odds, She unconsciously thanked the hours she spent out in the woods running around for resources.

Tears burst like a dam from her eyes and flew from her eyes as she sprinted. Choked sobs periodically interrupted the heavy breaths she took from running.

The faster she ran, The more corners she turned the more thoughts ran rampant throughout her head.

Exits? Only the main gate which she was currently running away from and were closed on the way in, It takes too much time to open those doors and the men would catch up to her in no time. Convince them to stop? Impossible. The men seemed determined in their goal and no amount of talking would change anything. The hidden room? On the other side of the shrine and she didn't have the key on her

[F/N] had gained a bit of distance from the men at this point, Having shook them off her trail for a very short amount of time.

She ran to where her heart took her, To the place she felt safest.

The offering hall which use to look bright and full of flowers, baskets of food and was spotless now was empty and cold. The candles went long unlit and a bit of dust built up and went into the air when she slammed open the doors, Making her cough.

[F/N] ran to the altar with her legs trembling. She fell to her knees in front of it crying her eyes out. Her body positioned into its usual prayer formation as she choked out her sobs.

"Please! Inari. I-I'm going to die... I haven't asked for anything from the day I've got here... Please spare my life.. L-Let me live! I don't want to die, Inari. Please.. Please.." [F/N] broke down in front of the altar as she chanted please over and over again like a sacred sutra.

She wailed quietly in front of the shrine letting all her emotions out from her eyes.

She never noticed the men standing behind her as she prayed. Their expressions serious and unaffected by the girl's unheard prayers.

Man A raised his katana. Holding it in his grasp he raised it high above his head.

And with a yell he swiftly brought it down.

Blood splattered the offerings room. Drenching the two men and the girl below, The blade going straight through her back.

☆♡☆

Cold.

It was so cold.

The men had left her there bleeding, How long ago she didn't know.

She had made her way out of the shrine. Past the main doors, Past the entrance gate and the pathway and out into the main part of the forest.

The blade had went right through her chest out the other side, She gripped it tightly while the blood stained her dragon-patterned haori colouring it crimson.

It was a miracle she had got this far out into the blizzard. The tip of her nose had frozen and her jaw chattered letting out cold air.

She weakly turtled into her haori for warmth however it proved futile.

The white snow behind her left a red trail as she walked.

Soon enough it was too much.

Soon enough, She collapsed.

☆♡☆

Quickly throughout the forest, Kokushibo ran quickly up the mountain through the unrelenting blizzard, Which never stung him in the slightest.

It had only been a few hours since he woke up from consuming that man's blood. His appearance now changed from the transformation which took three days to complete.

He carried a vial of that mans blood in one of his hands. He remembered the deal vividly in his mind.

Strength for him, A way to become stronger. Stronger than his brother. A way to avoid the eventual fate of all those who bore the demon slayer mark.

And a vial of that man's blood to save his dying sister.

He ran like hell. Snow crunching from the rapid footsteps behind him.

He stopped however, When the faintest scent of blood invaded his senses.

All three sets of his eyes widened.

He picked up his pace again. Now heading toward the smell.

His heartrate picked up. It couldn't be. It can't. [F/N] was alright. She was okay. Even now after becoming a demon, He still felt possessiveness affection towards his sister.

He came to a halt.

His heart dropped to his stomach as he tried to comprehend the sight in front of him. His eyes widened and his jaw slack open.

There in the snow, Lay a body curled up in a fetal position.

Snow had built up on it. It lay motionless buried in the snow.

He recognised it as [F/N].

"[F/N]!!" He yelled, running over to the body.

He fell to his knees in front of her and shoved off all the built up snow.

He pulled her body so her head was laying down on his lap. He shook her gently.

"...[F/N].. Wake up. Come on." He whispered. His shaking now growing more frantic to her lack of response.

He looked at the vial in his right hand.

Opening her mouth he popped open the seal and poured the red liquid into her mouth.

He watched it pour onto her tongue and down her throat. He waited for the reaction.

However, Nothing came.

He waited and waited. Nothing.

He felt his eyes water and flow out from them as the dawning realisation hit him.

He was holding his little sister's corpse in his arms.

He couldn't protect her. She had died and he wasn't there to protect her.

He yelled, Screamed and cried. In anger, Frustration, Sorrow, Guilt and mourning for his loss. He couldn't do anything.

However when he finally noticed the stab wound he realised this was murder. He could do something.

He carried his sister's body in his arms and pulled her close to his chest as he quietly grieved for her.

He brought her body back to her beloved shrine and set her down at the head of the shrine where she loved the most.

He'd deal with her body later. But for now he had to get revenge for the death of his little sister.

Using his blood demon art to make a sword he gripped it tight.

He set off into the blizzard already with a scent on the targets.

He looked back once at the shrine. The last remaining parts of his humanity dying in there with his sister

And with that he left. Never to look back again.

☆♡☆

It was five hundred years ago.

Kokushibo began reminiscing when he sat in front of her gravestone. What he did that night.

He had gotten his revenge, The two slayers slowly tortured and then eaten by him. Their screams and their pleads for mercy when they showed [F/N] none.

He had started with the fingers and toes, Then he moved up to the lower limbs, Slowly he ate them alive. He made one of them watch him while he ate, All before he moved onto them.

He made them confess who killed her to which after a little persuasion they admitted easily.

They got the worst of it, He didn't even eat him after the torture. Just left him pinned to a tree bleeding out. He had put him up high only giving him the options of freezing to death, bleeding out or dying from the fall.

The memories rewound in his head like a film. Flashing memories of when she was born and he got to cradle her in his arms. All the way up until he only held her lifeless corpse, Killed too soon.

He had mourned for a long time after that, Never really getting over her death, Not even now as he set down the new flowers on her grave built near the house they grew up in.

He couldn't bring himself to consume her body, He could never. It was too much.

He got up and dusted himself off, Just like she use to do.

He turned away and walked into the night, Melding into the shadows as he went off to find his next meal.

☆♡☆

The morning rays shun down on the Ubuyashiki Estate. Flowers in full bloom with wisteria ripe in the air.

Birds chirped and grasshoppers hummed in the bushes. The neatly trimmed and well kept garden a fit home for them

The Hashira had gathered and stood in front of the porch awaiting the arrival of their master. They talked amongst themselves in the meantime.

Mitsuri, The Love Hashira tugged on the hand of another. A soft smile gracing her face.

"Fujimori-san! You should really come out with me sometime, It's been ages since we've done something together!" Mitsuri teased lightly.

Fujimori laughed lightly from behind the kitsune mask with cerulean markings he (he?) wore. The medival english looking sword positioned in front of him pointing downward, His two hands gripping the katana-like hilt.

He was tall and muscular but had more of an athletic build. He had tattoo's from his neck to his lower arms describing pictures typically seen in shrine art.

His blue dragon-patterned haori that was draped around his lower arms lightly wove in the wind along with his [H/C] locks tied into a ponytail.

"What do you mean? We went on a mission together last week!" He chuckled.

Mitsuri huffed and lightly gripped his hand

"When I mean spend time together I mean like we should go to a hot spring or go out to eat together or-" Mitsuri continued rambling on as she listed off possible activities they could do together.

Fujimori, [F/N] listened intently onto her as she talked.

She (She? She.) however was only thinking of his visions: A sick woman, A woman with fox markings and a man in a purple hakama.

She'd need to figure it out later.

Next chapter

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silentmoths · 9 months

Text

Quick-Relief

slides in like I havent not written anything for *squints* several fucking months.

the 'morax horny stick' decided to bonk me out of the blue today and so this was born, its quick, its dirty, take it or leave it, heathens.

Morax x Adeptus! Reader (fem anatomy)

NSFW

Smut, Semi public, mentions of war, Morax is a lil on the rougher side, honestly this is just Porn without Plot.

How long had you been in the field now? Two months? Three? You’d honestly lost count.

There was real keeping of time during the archon war, at least not for you; you were an adeptus, here to fight for your archon, Morax.

And yet, you can't help but miss the times… before.

When you would wander the halls of his domain, only for a strong, darkened arm to reach out from his study or his chambers, catching your waist, your sleeve, the sash of your hafu, and dragging you in.

You were…unsure what you were exactly to Morax, a lover maybe? Or perhaps simple stress relief? You did not know, and you did not dare to ask. In the end you were one of his Adepti, and you would fight, serve or fall into his embrace, as he commanded.

Rain pelts against your skin as you slowly trudge up the mountain path towards the nearest encampment, carrying an injured comrade with you. Somewhere in the distance, you see Alatus flit past and you wonder just how he manages to maintain such energy, you don't think you’d seen the general stop for a breather the entire time, at least not until he was somewhat gravely injured…and even then he would only rest as little as he had to.

You pass your comrade off to a more capable healer than yourself before going off in search of food. A bath probably should have been first on the agenda but you just…didn’t have the energy in you for it yet, food first, then bath…and maybe if you were lucky, some sleep.

Yeah things don’t go the way you planned. When do they ever?

As you shovel away a quick meal of rice and vegetables, you cant help but feel eyes on you, but between being too tired to look around, and knowing everyone else sitting around you were just as busy shovelling food into your faces, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. That same feeling lingers as you shamble towards a bathing spring, no time to soak, if you wanted a chance at getting some sleep before you were called to action again, you needed to scrub and go, which is exactly what you do. Violently scrubbed clean of dirt, debris and blood, as much as you want to remain, you force yourself from the warm waters, quickly drying off before making for a tent, you didn't care who was in there, you just wanted somewhere sheltered to rest your head.

A hand, warm, familiar and strong, rests upon your shoulder, but in your tired stupor, you swing, intending on hitting away whomever had approached so quietly until your wrist is grabbed.

You knew the glow of these hands anywhere, the geo resonating softly through his veins, and you look up to be met with smouldering amber.

“Morax…” you whisper.

He’s caught somewhere between dragon and man, he has the human visage you are used to, the one he used most often to interact with mortals, but his horns and tail were also visible; his horns glowing a faint golden in the low light of the chilly mountainside.

You feel his grip tighten on you, his pupils restricting into slits for a mere moment before blowing wide and you can feel the anticipation beginning to run up your spine. Yeah you weren't sleeping tonight.

A beat passes between you both before he turns, tugging you along, out of sight of anyone, out of the encampment entirely, and all you can do is stumble along as his massive hand grips your wrist. He walks these mountains like a flat road, he knew them better than the back of his own hand, his strides are wide, and quick as he leads you further from camp, down a slippery cliff and before you know it, into a cave, only to be pressed against the cool stone wall as he practically hikes you up it, your legs coming to rest around his waist as he holds you there effortlessly.

“My lord-”

“Shut up.” Morax all but growls back before his lips crash into yours, long, serpentine tongue invading your mouth in a very quickly lost battle of dominance. His hands claw at your robe, tugging the offending garment apart so he can get at your naked body with ease, your own arms moving to wrap around his neck.

gods, you hadn’t realised just how much you needed this.

The longer you spend pressed between your archon’s warm flesh, and the cold stone of the wall, the more the churning arousal in your gut becomes apparent. You’d been fighting for so long you’d absolutely disregarded your body and it’s signals, and judging by how rough Morax was being, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to leave bruises whilst the other shoves his own pants down to his knees, he must have been feeling the same.

“My lord-” you try again, your own hands shifting up to his horns, grabbing hold to at least try and pull him away for a moment so you can breathe.”Take a moment-” “No.” He growls, one hand gripping your hips as a pair of fingers push inside your already embarrassingly wet cunt. “The moment I saw you walk into camp, I couldn’t withhold anymore.” he rumbles, smirking dangerously as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain as he splays those long, devilish fingers, after so long, you’re glad he at least had the forwithall to stretch you and take some of the inevitable sting off.

“Your body has toned up some more.” He muses as he continues the rough thrust of his fingers, his own body weight keeping you pressed against the wall as his free hand roams the expanse of your body revealed beneath the robe “and yet, despite all the fighting, your skin still feels like silk.” You can feel your cheeks heating at his surprisingly tender words; there was no small amount of pent up lust edging his tone, and yet he still found time to leave a compliment as his lips descend upon your neck, biting and suckling, leaving a small trail of blooming bruises from your jaw to your collarbone, all while he revels in the breathy gasps and muffled moans he draws from your lips.

That same tenderness doesn’t last long though; the moment he begins to feel you clench around his fingers, hear the way your voice pitches higher, he knew you were close, and instead of simply letting you come, he pulls his fingers out and you whine at him, looking to his face desperately, only to be met with a dark smirk before he quickly, harshly shoves his cock into you, burying all the way to the hilt in one single, harsh thrust that has you screaming, the sudden intrusion enough to send you over that edge as you orgasm around him.

“That's it.” he rumbles at you, his voice caught somewhere between a growl and a purr as his draconic tail lashes behind him, he doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, his hips setting a brutal pace that has any breath you manage to catch leaving your body just as quickly as you moan into his shoulder. You feel it, every ridge of his inhuman cock, rutting inside of you, a dull aching pain mixed with pure, overwhelming pleasure as Morax growls into your throat, his teeth pressing against your skin, but not quite biting down.

His hands grab your waist, shifting your legs until they’re locked around his hips, just so he can get a better grip on you and take a step back, pulling you from the wall so he can all but bounce you on his cock like you were nothing more than a toy for him. He watches as your eyes roll back, and feels your hands, clinging desperately around his shoulders, one of your fingers finally catching in his hair tie and yanking, you did so love seeing his silky hair free and cascading down his back and shoulders.

Usually, before the war, when he’d pull you in for a night of intimacy, it was a slow affair; he liked to take his time, methodical in every one of his actions.

That was not the case today.

This was a man pent up, stressed, pulled to the very limits and in desperate need of release, and he knew that just as well as you did. His pace was brutal, ruthless, and you cry for it because you needed this just as much as him, something to take your mind off of all the fighting, all the death and destruction, a moment to feel… mortal.

You only vaguely remember the moment he cums inside you, it’s hot, searingly so and it shoves you right off the edge into your second orgasm as your world turns white, a stark contrast to the drizzly grey day.

You wake, the next morning in a tent, re-clothed, rugged up amongst blankets and pillows, your muscles ached, but when had they not lately? Just some…new kinds of ache that made you realise last night had definitely not been a dream.

As if the impressive amount of hickeys you now had to find a way to hide weren't proof enough of your quick foray with the geo archon himself.

You just hoped the de-stressing had helped clear his head a little, after all, you were there to serve him.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmothwrites #finally #Zhongli genshin #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x reader smut

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strawbeerossi · 10 months

Text

Speak Now

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer Reid regrets many things in his life, losing his beloved girlfriend years ago is one of them. When he gets a wedding invite, he swallows his pride and decides to attend. That's when gets a dangerous idea.

Content Warnings: Some light angst, mention of regret, Spencer decides to ruin a wedding, there's some curse words thrown in for pizzazz, reader and Spencer run away together in the end.

Word Count: 2.1K

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Tags 🏷️ @beardedhotchh @nyx-tella @multifandom-on-the-side @morgthemagpie @x0xonatalie @eveyez-exe

First installment of the Speak Now (TV) mini series!

There were a lot of mistakes that Spencer made in his life. Letting Y/N go was one of them. It was the nature of his job that had begun to take a toll, his girlfriend being met with the frustration and pain that he carried. It had gotten unfair on her, he knew that. It led to a discussion that needed to happen, resulting in an amicable breakup.

There were no hard feelings, no hatred. Y/N understood that his life was growing overwhelming, promising that she would wait for him. This job was new, it was his first year on the team. She would wait for him.

And she did. She waited for nine years before the realization hit her, Spencer wasn’t coming back to her. She’d learned of a false imprisonment, the death of a girlfriend, a serial killer who was obsessed with him, even the numerous times he’d been injured on the field.

Penelope Garcia was a close friend, the two meeting through Spencer and keeping communication through all the years. They frequented lunch dates, girls days, and even trips whenever the two women could find the time to do it. That was how not only Y/N got her information about her ex boyfriend who she could never forget but Spencer asked his own questions about the one who got away.

Their lives went in different directions. Spencer had worked himself up the totem pole of the BAU, his life’s work shining through his college lectures and the information he put out to the world. Y/N however had been a shining star at the elementary school she began teaching at, living at a relaxed state of her life where she didn’t have to worry about the impending issues with traveling the country about a million times a month.

It was fitting. Spencer had always wanted to save the world, wanting to help the people who couldn’t help themselves while Y/N wanted to help the youth of the country to grow strong and confident in themselves in order to break generational failures and curses.

So different yet so alike.

Penelope liked to say that opposites attract, that they’d find their way back to each other one day. Y/N had given up on that dream years ago, finding a man who loved her and treated her with nothing but love. The news killed Spencer when Penelope showed him pictures when he grew too curious.

The beginning of the relationship was the first knife to his heart, the engagement was a second. The third didn’t come until a year later, when he was being made aware there was a wedding that was in the Spring.

Spencer and Y/N talked about getting married in the Spring. When the flowers just began blooming, she could use the pastel color palette, and the flowers in the bouquet could be a collection of pink peonies and white roses. He could remember seeing her happy, a blinding smile on her face as she described everything down to the last detail. The way she looked at him in admiration, the way that she cried the first time he told her he loved her, the way she was always checking in on him.

He fucked up royally.

Whenever the wedding was rapidly approaching, he wasn’t expecting to get his own invite. He remembered opening the beautiful envelope with the familiar cursive writing that he remembered from years ago. The invite was personally addressed to him, saying he was more than welcome to bring a plus one.

A plus one.

What better than Penelope Garcia, even if she already had her own personal invite. He wouldn’t be able to face this moment head-on by himself and he couldn’t ask JJ to go like he would’ve before, not since their relationship began to get awkward after the events of the bank incident. In theory, he could’ve asked Luke but then Penelope would probably kill him for taking her idea.

Thankfully, the bubbly tech analyst was more than happy to accompany the brunette to the wedding that was surely going to be hard to swallow. Watching someone you love get married to someone else isn’t exactly ideal.

There were a lot of emotions that Spencer shifted through. There was anger, anger that he let her go when he was a young idiot who had no idea what he wanted. Then there was sadness, the tears soaking his face from the mere idea of having to fully lose her to a man who surely didn’t deserve her. Then there was the final stage that he had to get through his thick skull; acceptance.

He knew this was better for her, to have someone who had normal working hours who could always be there for her. However, he wasn’t going to like it. At all. However, there was one thought that lingered at the back of his head. What if he convinced her to leave with him. They could run away, find solace in each other’s arms again, just like years past.

That was a shitty idea in theory but on paper? Oh, he liked it.

He liked it so much that he made it his plan. There was no backing out of it. He was going to ruin this wedding. The worst that could happen was that he could be escorted out. That was it. If he was going to lose Y/N regardless, at least he could say that he tried.

Penelope wasn’t made aware of that plan though, having a fear that she’d talk him out of doing it entirely.

As Spencer had arrived at the venue, it wasn’t long until he was met with his close friend as well as Luke. Of course.There was no secret that even with the consistent banter between Garcia and Alvez that they had some underlying amount of love and care for one another.

“Are you ready?” She asked, sparing a sad glance at the taller male who walked alongside her and Luke into the venue that was rented out for the occasion.

“Yeah.” Oh god, if you only knew what I’m about to do.

Everything was beautiful and eloquent, a ceremony fit for a queen. It was fitting. His gaze looked over the chairs that were set up, decorated with strings of lights as well as an assortment of different flowers. The colors were pastel, like he’d vividly imagined for the whole year leading up to this fucking ceremony.

Y/N’s family looked pleased to see him.

Maybe even relieved. However, his mind could’ve been playing tricks on him. They wouldn’t be thankful for him showing up to the wedding of their only daughter. There would be no reason to be. Unless his suspicions of this guy being not all that he was cracked up to be was correct.

There was a silence that enveloped him when he could recognize the man from all those sickening social media pictures. This was the groom.

Well, she had a type. The mess of brunette curls falling in his face while he was currently laughing and talking with who Spencer could only assume was his own family. Again, it could’ve been his mind playing tricks on him. This was his own body’s way of telling him that his idea to speak up was going to be the correct decision.

He was an imitation, Spencer could give her the real thing. He was older, wiser, more experienced at this point. With his mandated time off, he could give her a life where he wasn’t always gone. He could love her, hold her.

He was definitely going through with it now.

“You must be Spencer.” A voice brought him out of his thoughts, blinking slowly. This guy was talking to him. Fuck. “Oh, yeah. Hi. I’m Spencer.” He spoke slowly, letting out a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding in. “Nice to meet you, man. I’m Matthew.”

Oh. He was nice. Well, that made him feel shitty. He wasn’t backing down though. Instead, he offered a smile, a fake smile that was easily mustered.

“Great to meet you too! Congratulations on the big day, by the way.” He offered a smile while letting out a soft hum.

There wasn’t much longer until the wedding attendees were being told to get into their seats and prepare for the wedding to begin. It was now or never. He was going to do this. It was a risk, one that he knew he didn’t actually sit and think through.

Losing Y/N in all aspects would crush him. This had to go well, it was going to go well, he needed it to go well.

As soon as the sounds of the Bridal Chorus was echoing through the room, Spencer had to take in a deep breath, eyes glued to the door as the bridal party was emerging first, followed by the flower girl. Then there was Y/N and her father.

God, she looked beautiful.

Spencer was mesmerized. He never pictured himself sitting amongst the guests the first time he saw her in a wedding dress. Hell, he wasn't even waiting for her at the end of the aisle and he could already feel tears soaking his cheeks. Tears of pent up sadness, longing, and envy.

As she approached her husband-to-be and everyone was getting seated, Spencer’s leg was bouncing from anticipation. He was good at getting through the beginning jargon of the promises and affirmations.

His actions weren’t going unnoticed. Penelope was the first one to glance over at the male sitting to her left. “You okay?” She asked, leaning over to put a hand against Spencer’s knee to prevent him from bouncing it. Which he couldn’t speak, too focused on hearing the words he needed to hear, the invitation to ending all of this.

It felt like an eternity of waiting, however, his opening finally came. “And if anyone objects to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

His body works against the rational functioning in his brain, the man shooting up from his chair. There was a mixture of reactions,some looks of horror as if Spencer had just ripped the groom’s head clean off, then there were other knowing glances.

Y/N’s mother even looked as if she’d been greatly anticipating for her daughter’s ex to stand up and say something.

Spencer didn’t care, instead his eyes were directly on her. It was bold, something the old Spencer that she’d gotten to know would’ve never done.Her gaze was settled on her ex boyfriend, honestly being surprised he’d mustered up the courage to show up.

There was a tense, painful silence looming over the guests while Y/N cleared her throat. “I need to.. Step out. I’ll be right back.” The words were rushed, the bouquet falling out of her hands as she rushed out of the main room, heading to the backdoor that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Without being prompted, Spencer shot up despite Penelope trying to grab his hand and pull her down. “Come here!” She hissed, although he was already running out of the doors that were once shut tight.

So much for a wedding, right?

Y/N could be found near the back entrance, where she was supposed to leave after a beautiful ceremony and a memorable reception. Instead, there she was, hands over her face. The sound of footsteps caused her to glance upwards.

She had a smile on her face.

Out of all the interactions he expected, he wasn’t expecting a smile. He didn’t expect to feel her arms wrapped tightly around his torso either.

She did want this.

“I’m so glad you came. Fuck, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” She spoke, now tossing the bouquet of flowers on the table that was close by. This was.. Something. “Come on, we need to get out of here. I promise that I’ll explain everything later. For right now, we gotta go.”

There was urgency in her voice, her hands nudging Spencer. The FBI agent in him was worried. Was this man hurting her? Was this all an act?

“Don’t profile me. He’s a nice guy but.. God, he’s not Spencer Reid. Now, can we please go?” She spoke, eyes glistening with mischief and affection. This was real. This was happening.

“Y-Yeah.” He spoke, his own smile creeping up onto his face as Y/N was tightly grabbing his hand while the two were running out of the building together, a whirlwind of adrenaline flowing through both of their veins as it became clear that this was the way that it should’ve been.

“I’m so glad you were around when they said speak now.”

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