#( the day i fell without my wings. those dark days where i was trapped. you should've ended me when you had the chance; wannie. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

mother knows best

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~4.6k

keigo’s dick catches up with him in the form of a fat, red strap

warnings: daddy kink, subby hawks, mean reader, lingerie, pegging, dumbification (a wittle), dacryphilia, revenge sex, degradation, keigo’s a cock slut ❤️

...

oh wow so this is actually a wip from all the way back in august!! i got some good inspo, so enjoy some subby hawks goodness loveys <3

You wanted nothing more than fucking ruin Keigo.

He’d been a shit lately, more annoying than usual. Fuck, you’d even say that he had been a downright brat.

It was obviously somewhat endearing, getting bent over countertops, teased through your clothes and getting left wet and wanting as he would just so happily walk away, whistling triumphantly to himself.

Or, maybe, it was how at the recent Hero’s Gala, Keigo had dragged you into one of the hotel’s lavish bathrooms, meters away from his colleagues and shoved you up against the large dressing mirror, his bulge shoved against your ass, whispering about how he was going to shred your dress from your frame.

“You just look too good, babe,” Keigo’s hands raked up and down your chest, nearly pulling your breasts from the delicate fabric of your dress.

You’d pleaded with him, “I get that you’re horny, but this really isn’t the place.”

You still let him fuck your mouth to orgasm.

Twice.

He’d been at least nice enough to help you wipe the smears of the professionally done makeup from your face.

“Sorry,” Keigo spoke with a smile, thumbing away a run of mascara from under your eyes as you sat on the edge of the sink. “You did great though. You were so beautiful for me, angel. So sexy. ”

You frowned, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face, meeting his eye with an uncomfortable amount of intensity.

“Keigo.”

He blinked.

“Yeah?”

You felt his palms begin to sweat in your grip.

You smiled, something eerily dark.

“How do you feel you’ve been lately?”

You watched his throat bob, his keen mind going just where you wanted it to. As much as you loved indulging in Keigo’s insatiable, unstoppable, carnal need to bend your back until it broke, you were also very tired of the attitude he’d gotten from it lately.

“I think...” Keigo wet his lips, pressing between your spread legs from your perch, “I think I’ve been good.”

“You do?!” You repeated, laughing a bit as you squeezed your thighs around Keigo’s trim waist. You grabbed his cheeks between your thumb and middle finger, forcing his gaze to be on your messy, smeared face. “I didn’t think my ‘good boy’ was such a fucking dumbass.”

A whimper dripped from the back of his throat as you frowned, knowing how quickly being taken down a peg got him hot and bothered.

“You’ve jumped my ass without any regard for circumstances how many times in the last week?” You sneered, digging your nails into baby fat above his jaw. “Did you think about the consequences of your actions, babe?”

Keigo let out a deep breath, “Angel, I—”

You fully grabbed his cheeks and jaw, squeezing his lips puckered, “What did you just call me?”

His eyes went wide, hands tensing on the tops of your thighs.

“If I let you speak, are you going to do so properly?” You relished the frantic nod he tried to give you.

You dropped your hand to the front of his dress shirt, hooking your fingers into the top of his tie, “Speak then.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Keigo’s eyes went big and doughy, refusing to look at you.

“That’s better,” You hummed, playing with the silky fabric. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, okay, sweetheart?”

He forced his gaze up to yours.

“We’re gonna go back out there, smile for the cameras, and then head home and get some good sleep.”

“B-but aren’t you going to p-punish—” Keigo words were gluey and slow, giving you all the more reason to interrupt him, even going so far as to shift to tighten his tie around his neck, perhaps a bit too constricting.

“I will, when the time is right. You just try to be a good boy until then, see you actually can.”

A filthy, but very fun plan was brewing in your head. It just would take some time.

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The opportune time struck a few weeks later. Though Keigo had at first been on some better behavior, he reverted to his typical, bratty self a week after your threat was made.

You were just biding your time, besides, custom orders took some time.

It wasn’t hard to contact Keigo’s PA, requesting his measures for ‘unknown’ purposes.

What was harder was wading through the hundreds of beautiful designs you could order for him. You spent a good few hours scrolling and fantasizing about what colors and patterns Keigo’s pretty, lithe body would look best in. After beating one out, you made your decision, entered his measurements, and sent the order off. It might’ve been the fervor of hot pleasure you had, but you threw in an extra item or two to your purchase. You were spoiling yourself, really.

Three weeks later, it arrived, perfect in every way, along with the extra items.

Then, it was just about watching Keigo and waiting to strike.

...

He came in late one night, feathers all but bare, uniform muddled.

As Keigo fell on the bed following his shower, you took note of his downy stubs, bare of most of his usual feathers. You grinned something wicked.

Tomorrow was the day.

Keigo crawled up to you, immediately pulling your back to his chest, peppering your shoulders with kisses before drifting off. You turned to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping he’d get enough rest to be ready for all you had planned.

...

The next morning, Keigo lumbered out of bed while you were finishing your coffee on the couch, already donned in your business casual attire (with some additions, but he couldn’t see those yet).

“Hey, angel,” His voice was scratchy with sleep as he plopped down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept super good,” You smiled, returning his sweet gesture. “How about you?”

“Good, very good. I’m just glad I have a day off.” Keigo relaxed into the cushions. He flexed the roughly two-foot-long stubs of crimson feathers, “Gotta grow these back out, and that means I’m relaxing all day.”

You grinned, the pieces of your plan having perfectly fallen into place.

“I’m very glad, sweetheart,” You gave him a fleeting kiss before standing up and heading back to the bedroom.

Keigo called after you, “Where’re you off to, angel? I wanna give you some love before you gotta leave me.”

“One sec! I just gotta get my shit together for work,” You purred back knowingly. Your purse was already packed and ready. You had other traps to lay.

Flitting into the closet, you rummaged through a small set of drawers to retrieve one of the several packages you received. It was a clean, white box, about half the size of a pillow, wrapped in red ribbon.

You laid it on the freshly made bed, adjusting some of the satins as you did.

Keigo beamed at you as you exited to the living room, sauntering up and wrapping his hands around your waist to kiss your forehead.

He stiffened when he felt the straps beneath your work blouse.

“Angel?” He squeezed your waist.

You smirked, kissing the corner of his mouth before gently cupping his jaw, “Now, sweetheart, can you be a good boy for me today?”

Keigo, the sweet thing he was, turned to putty in your hands.

He nodded, his bottom lip poking out.

“Good,” You tightened your grip on his jaw. “You have a lot to make up for, considering what a brat you’ve been lately.”

The way Keigo trembled in your hold, cheeks hot, made your head spin with your ideas for the evening.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” You walked him back, only stopping when his ass hit the kitchen table. He jumped when he slid just the slightest bit back, forced to sit.

“F-forget what?” Keigo genuinely couldn’t remember, based off the quirk in his brow.

You clicked your tongue, shifting a knee between his legs, “At the Gala. Use your brain, sweetheart.”

His expression fell with the revelation.

Your punishments were never easy. Very fun, but god, they were excruciating.

Watching the expression on Keigo’s face drift as he worked out the context of your actions made you shiver. You were sure he’d be a brat later, but catching him off guard always made him particularly weak to your touch.

“Now, baby, I was nice enough to leave a pretty present for you in our room.” You pinch his plump bottom lip between your fingers, “When I get home, I want you on the bed all dolled up for me, understand?”

He swallowed, nodding against your hold as enthusiastically as he could manage.

“Good.” You released him, kissing the indent that your nails left. “I’ve got to get going, but I love you lots, okay?”

Keigo was comically stunned with a very noticeable bulge in his boxers, “I l-love you too.”

You throw your purse over your shoulders, smug at your ability to turn Keigo into obedient mush.

As you opened the door to leave, you were gracious enough to shout and remind him, “Oh, and sweetheart? Be a good boy and don’t you dare touch yourself today, or I’ll make tonight far worse for you. Have a good day off, love!”

...

The moment you left the apartment, Keigo let out a tight breath.

Holy fuck.

He really thought he’d get to spend the day relaxing and letting his wings regrow, but as it turned out, you had far better plans for the two of you and Keigo didn’t have the mind to fight it.

Not yet, anyway.

He’d give you shit later. It was fun to push you around, in any context.

When he was sure you were far out the door, he quickly padded to the bedroom, eyeing the box that lay on the duvet.

Slipping onto the sheets, he kneeled and pulled it closer. He rubbed at the ribbon, frowning.

The two of you had used toys and... devices plenty of times, tending to each other, just in different ways. But, when Keigo picked up the parcel, it seemed far too light to have any sort of toy in it.

Keigo frowned, slipping off the satin and pulling off the lid.

...

Oh fuck.

Inside, neatly packaged with crisp tissue paper, was a carefully folded set of clothes. Special clothes, notably.

This became abundantly clear as Keigo carefully pulled the mesh and lace out of the box, blood rushing to his half-hard cock.

It was an incredibly pretty set. Stockings, garters, even a ribbed bodice with lacey cups, all pale pink with gold embroidery and accents.

It was pretty, but not your size at all.

As he pulled out the last item, a pair of satin and lace panties with extra fabric at the front, he realized that these were undoubtedly for him.

A hot blush sped to his cheeks as he stared down at the pretty mess in front of him.

Sure, he’d talked about this kink to you in passing, but you’d never mentioned it and he’d never asked you to indulge him in it.

However, it was quite clear that that was indeed what you were doing, giving him such a beautiful set.

There was even a small card.

“Keigo,

Despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but an ungrateful brat lately,

I’ve been gracious enough to give you a sweet gift.

You’ll have to earn it tonight.

Be good.

(Y/N) <3”

Keigo stared down at the garments and the note, already far too hard to be comfortable.

It was hardly going to be a leisurely day off.

...

You took the opportunity to torture Keigo just a little.

Honestly, you deserved it. With the way he’d been randomly dragging you into bathrooms, alleyways, and dressing rooms to wreck you, it was truly only fair that you got to wreck him.

So, you started early.

You sent picture after picture to him throughout the day, stepping from your office to tease at your own special garments that hid just under your modest clothing. Keigo probably wouldn’t touch himself, knowing what that would cost him. Fucking with him throughout the day would just make your revenge that much sweeter.

He was easy to get riled up, it was one of his biggest weaknesses when this dynamic came up. Keigo might’ve had the stamina to go for hours, but he didn’t have the heart or mind not to beg for it.

And god, by the end of reaching your own workday, straps feeling almost too tight and pussy dripping, you were more than ready to fuck Keigo up beyond belief.

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“Kei’? I’m home!” You called as you came in the front door, slipping off your shoes and hanging your purse.

“I’m in here,” Keigo’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

Oh.

Perfect.

Your plan, long thought-out, had turned out perfectly. Now, you reaped the reward.

You were going to fucking ruin Keigo.

Destroy him.

If he wasn’t a shaking pile of cum and sweat when you were done with him, you’d just keep going.

You strode to the bedroom, anticipating the sight before you with bated breath.

And god, did Keigo take yours away.

Like a ‘good boy’, he was just as you ordered him to be.

He was kind enough to keep the lighting the room low, though he was more than visible and fucking gorgeous.

The lingerie set fit him beautifully, as you expected. The pink satin and lace stretched over his tanned skin so well, showing off the tone of his muscles and the swell of his light curves, as well as his already weeping bulge.

He sat on his spread knees atop the bed, garters pulling tight over his upper thighs. The panties were maybe a bit small for Keigo’s fat cock, but seeing a bit of him peeking out was never a bad thing.

The bodice of the piece was truly beautiful. It was ribbed, a blushing pink and had small threads of golden stitching accenting the lace work. The cups of the piece were pressed to Keigo’s hardened, pierced nipples, the fabric undoubtedly teasing the skin raw (not that you didn’t plan on getting them such a way yourself.)

“Oh, baby,” You sigh, a light, genuine smile coming to your face. “You look beautiful.”

Keigo must’ve already been pretty deep in it, ducking his head and biting his lip, “Thank you, mommy.”

You smiled at his usage of the proper title, though none of your irritation or anger faded. It was only a few drops of water on a much hotter burn.

You walked up to the bed, leaning over the end of it to tilt up his face to yours, “Kei’, what’s your safeword?”

“Quill,” He leaned into your touch, stubbly cheeks brushing against your palms.

Nodding to yourself, you stepped back from him. Watching Keigo was like observing a moving piece of fine art, the shadows and highlights of his body crafted by some finer being than you. You were just there to tend to him, use him and bend him in the ways you knew he craved.

You fetched the last two parcels from the closet, setting them onto the nearby dresser. Close by and in-sight, teasing the two of you.

You turned, directly regarding Keigo. He must have been watching you move about the room, eyes rounded and knees spread just right.

“So, tell me, Kei’,” You hummed approaching the bed while popping the buttons on your work blouse. “Have you been a good boy lately?”

His fingers stiffened over the lace of the stockings, stubs twitching behind him, “I... don’t think so.”

You hummed, fully peeling off your top, “Wow, so someone’s finally got some sense to himself now? Mommy’s proud, but it’s a little too late for that.”

Keigo audibly swallowed now that you were barer to him.

Your set was a leather of some sort, black straps adorning and squeezing your frame and flesh in the best ways, linked by o-rings and pretty buckles. If Keigo was in a different mood, he would have half a mind to tug you close by the ring dangling between the slope of your breasts.

But he wasn’t, he was mommy’s good, sweet brat, and that meant sitting and shutting up unless he wanted this to be worse for himself.

You tapped your hip, over the slim zipper to your skirt.

“Unzip.”

Keigo nodded, too quick and too eager as his shaking hands slid the zipper over the curve of your hip.

You stepped back before Keigo could get too much satisfaction from the action, shimming the skirt down your legs—

And the set you had on top kept going.

Garters and black stockings settled over your thighs, perfectly fitted and perfect for you and your perfect body, Keigo just wanted a taste—

You slapped his hand down onto the bed, holding it there and leaning forward with a sickly syrupy smile, “I thought you said you knew you were being a brat, baby boy? Wouldn’t that mean you know not to push your fucking luck—?”

You left his hand on the duvet with an order to not move it, to which he complied.

And you slipped back over to the dresser, unfurling your last parcels.

Rope and a pretty new toy.

He didn’t deserve them, they were for you.

The new harness was perfect, custom made to your size, so it sat perfectly over the curves of your thighs and ass. It looked even better when you attached the curved, thick strap to it.

“Is that—”

“For you?” You finished Keigo’s sentence with a click of your tongue. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll just suck on that cute little cock of yours until you’re fucked dry. Maybe, I would let you near my dick. Or, you learn to be a good boy like you say you are—”

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and squeezed, “And you’ll get mommy’s pretty strap?”

...

To his merit, Keigo really, really was being good.

Each expression of his was just so, so delicious, and that wasn’t even taking into account the beautiful ways his body arched and writhed below you.

What would the public think if they knew ‘Hawks’ was fucking mama’s boy who craved nothing more than getting stuffed with thick cock and edged until he was crying sweet, sweet tears?

Who knows! You didn’t, and you didn’t fucking care.

You’d stuffed Keigo with a cute plug as prep, one with a glittering, yellow gem that just looked so good between his pert little ass cheeks. The new rope was put to use as well. Though, the knots were kept mainly to his arms and wrists. The new lingerie was too pretty to hide. You had tied the intricate knots and binds torturously slowly, as you’d be so kind as to attach a small, vibrating egg to the tip of his dick.

Though, the first thing you did was lock a cock ring at his base with the promise that he ‘wouldn’t be cumming until he was screaming’.

You had him under you, tits squished to his ribs. Your thighs slotted on the sides of his braced and squeezing him just enough so he knew not to dare to try and move with your word.

You smeared lube up and down his angrily red cock, thumbing the head. The slick and pre slipped down and stickied his balls and the roughed-up panties tucked beneath.

Keigo was a fucking mess for it. Whining and gasping with each breath for little, reverent pleas— ‘more, more, more—’

His wrists were tied together, pale pink rope making flushed marks against his heat softened skin. They were secured high on the bed, pulling his body taut and flat against the sheets.

You nipped at one of his pierced nipples, tugging the tender bar with your teeth with little regard for how Keigo squealed again.

Each sound had you dripping, just as needy and wanting as your sweet, sweet boy, but you’d be damned to let it be as apparent as his wanting.

Keigo was a goddamn sight.

Blond waves stuck to his forehead and temples, cheeks red and lips bitten to cherry. His mouth hung open, drool spilling from the corner and soaking the pillow you graciously kept under his head.

(Only because you’d ridden his face for a good while prior, and you were such a nice mommy, you gave him a nice cushion while you let him tongue fuck you to another orgasm.)

“M-mommy,” Keigo’s voice shook. “Please.”

You tsked.

“Disappointing, sweet boy,” You chastised, lightly. Keigo had already wept hard enough, you didn’t need to push much more before he cracked just as you wanted. “You know to beg better.”

Keigo choked on a sob, something that made his bound, stubby wings shudder and writhe against the sheets.

“But, I-I already have,” Keigo sputtered, tugging on the bindings and breathing hard as you toyed with the ring at the base of his swollen cock. “Please.”

He deserved it, all the teasing and sweet torture, considering what a bastard he’d been in the past week.

“Needy and you’re talking back?” You rolled your eyes. “So what, you want me to ride your cock? That’s too good for you.”

“‘T-too good for me,’” Keigo repeated, tearfully, stomach shaking with the way he was still trying to holding back.

He just needs to let go. Be the shameless cock slut he is.

“Guess I’ll just fuck that cute little ass of yours until I’m satisfied.”

Keigo gulped as you helped him onto his tummy, bound hands freed from the headboard to brace below him. His back arched, a practice ‘c’ curve that you made dip deeper with a press to the small of back.

“Do better,” You reminded him, cruelly. He stifled another sob, nodding.

He shrieked as you eased the lubed plug from his ass. You poured a gracious amount over the red strap-on, admiring it.

It was thick, it’d be a stretch and would press deep enough to knock Keigo out if you so chose.

Good.

As much as Keigo loved fucking you hard and fast, wherever and whenever he pleased, he needed this sometimes. A bit of handful (or so) of mean words, and a thick cock to fuck him full and dumb.

“Baby boy,” You cooed, tapping the toy over his blushing bottom. “You ready? Or should we wait—”

The impatient bastard.

“No, no, no,” Keigo sputtered against the sheets. “I c-can’t mommy, I can’t—”

“Can’t what, baby?”

“I can’t wait!”

It was the concept of waiting any longer for your fat cock that sent him sobbing into the bedding, hiccuping and writhing.

Keigo, the sweet thing he was, sagged and fell apart. Breaking good and proper, coherency gone.

You guided him through it, good and proper.

Truthfully, Keigo had been put through it. The sudden expectations, having him wait his entire day off, tempted by your skimpy little photos. And when you finally deemed him worthy of you, it was just to tease him and pretty cock for a few hours just to let off some of your own steam was cruel.

But Keigo had been bad, and loved getting used when you both needed it.

His tears must’ve felt damn good, considering when you reached under his hips (while rubbing tender little circles over his spine) his cock was harder than ever, leaking and wet with need.

He seized beneath you, sputtering little ‘n-no’s and ‘p-please’s mixed with his weeping. He twitched in your hand as you ran the pad of your finger around the ring at its base.

“I could take this off,” You mused, pressing the tip of the strap against his hole. “Or—”

With a slow grind of your hips, you stretched him wide and trembling.

Keigo’s cries got louder, deeper and rougher as he clasped his hands in their binds. Bent over his body, you teased his cock with a light hand, humming as you nonchalantly fucked him to the hilt of the strap.

“Now, sweet boy,” You nudge your hips flush to his, just barely shifting “If I take this off, can you come for me? I need you to cum for me as much until you can’t anymore. Can you be a good boy?”

After a moment of sniffling, he nodded, “Yes, m-mommy.”

You flicked the clasp on the ring, discarding it and rolling your hips.

And Keigo instantly came.

With all of that build-up, he shuddered, wings writhing as his back bent harder as he drenched the sheets beneath the two of you.

“My good boy,” You hummed, petting between his wings as he rode it out. “Keep it up.”

And without relenting, you grabbed his wings for leverage and fucked him.

Maybe, it was a little cruel.

Your pace was set hard and fast, tugging the feathery stubs and enjoying the feel of his round, downy feathers where you held the base. Your grip was the only thing keeping Keigo as he resisted collapsing.

You were nice enough to occasionally reach down and give Keigo a few quick pumps, just enough so he’d crest again, sticking your hand so well and thick. The cum was smeared onto the fatty round of his ass with a slap or two.

As much as it was a damn treat to see Keigo so fucked up and fucked, you let up when his orgasms were still hot and harsh, but his cock was nearly dry. It hardly sputtered anything, drained and sticky and overstimulated beyond belief.

“N-no more, no more!” Keigo sputtered as he trembled and convulsed with a dry, painful orgasm, your hand still fisting the sore flesh on his cock.

You knew him well enough to stop then.

Your hips stilled, breath labored, though nothing like Keigo’s teary, nearly-dry sobs. He slowly fell into the sheets, aching body falling with nothing left to give.

Everything was slow for a moment.

You pulled out, graciously slow and tender, mindful of his raw state.

With a few skillful tugs, his wrists were free and unbound. Weak arms and shaking hands grabbed for you, needy as ever, but still, you could indulge him.

‘Mommy, m-mommy, please,” Keigo tried to tug you down into the soaked sheets as you unbuckled the harness from around your hips.

You raised an eyebrow, “Still needy?”

Keigo choked on something between a sob and scream, nodding and needing.

(Completely wrecked, just as you craved and planned. He really was good.)

Your heart softened, the energy in the air diffusing as you freed his wings, coaxing them to stretch out and release any remaining bottled up tension.

And you fell into the bed with him, tugging your sweet boy to your chest and peppering kisses over his salt-slicked cheeks.

“You were wonderful dear, my good, sweet boy,” You layered on the praise, enjoying how his shudders came from your words as opposed to the discarded cock.

Keigo opened his cracked lips but quickly closed them, settling before nuzzling under your chin and practically purring as he came down.

You always knew that you did your job well when Keigo was fucked silent.

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thank you for reading 💞

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #hawks x you #takami keigo x reader #hawks smut #tw mommy kink #mha x reader #uwu i love indulging and breaking keigo over a good strap #<3

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Felling — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi love could you maybe do #38 from the fluff prompts for Five where maybe Five is struggling with accepting the reader trying to be like romantic or affectionate with him !!! Thank you I love you !!!!”

Fluff Prompts:

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I loved this request so much! I found it so cute and adorable!! ❤️ I hope it got close to what you wanted. I love you❤️

Here I used some fragments of Five's original chronology because it would help with the plot, but guys, keep in mind, please, that he is a 20 or more.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Just bad words, it is very fluff.

— — — — — —

The Hargreeves were a family full of wounds, trauma and deep-seated fears. They were trained to be super heroes. Strong, courageous, centered, perfect. And that was why no emotion could be on the way to that goal. Feeling love, passion, affection and affection was the gateway to becoming vulnerable. And a superhero couldn't be vulnerable. So they were denied that their whole lives.

Within each one pulsed a different problem, a different trauma. Denying love to a child only made him develop complications to connect with his emotions, feel empathy and be able to deal with different contrasts in a healthy way.

The Hargreeves brothers' lives were not easy, but some of them found, in the beginning, a way to connect with different types of love; Luther and Alissom for each other, Diego for the maternal love, Klaus and Ben in the partnership and complicity for each other. Vayna found her way in love for her brothers when her biggest internal problems were resolved.

But Five... well, Five was alone in the abyss of the apocalypse.

He did not have a chance to mature his feelings, deal with his psychological and transform the various traumas into something productive and healthy. Then, in the midst of loneliness, devastation and chaos, Five just threw his feelings under the rug until, like his childhood brothers, they stopped harassing him.

As they never had the opportunity to mature, those sensations remained on a primitive level. And his complications to bond with his emotions became even more broken when Five had to kill for the Commission.

Facing death and being the author of such devastation was not a mild endeavor. The smell of death was still in the air if Five stopped to concentrate on breathing, and the murder scenes were still fresh in his mind when he slept. But, just as Five did with any feeling, he just pushed them under the rug once again.

He didn't want to deal with them. They brought, for Five, pains, fears, weaknesses and a constant reminder that, perhaps, he... had failed in many things. And Five hated seeing himself as a failure.

And that was when he came home. And even when the waters have calmed down, when the winter breeze gently touched his face, when he can rest, dealing with feelings was something he still repudiated.

But that's when Five met you, and his whole world was turned upside down. When you first looked into his eyes, fierce, warm heat swept through Five's body, from the top of his head to his toes. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Five thought it was just a second of madness, in which his system had given a blue screen for something else, not for you. But as soon as you smiled at him, there was a quick feeling of being stabbed near the diaphragm or in the belly. His composure didn't waver an inch, but he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The situation took on unimaginable proportions. You are going the Hargreeves mansion a lot times , since, what has been said, you were friends with the brothers, and Five lived lost in an agitated sea of exasperating feelings whenever he was near you.

You were brilliant as the sun, smiling as happiness, beautiful as masterpieces and stunning as the evening. You were the personification of…Perfection, was the Five thought at the time. And it almost broke his heart, because he could never have you for himself.

Five couldn't because, as much as he refused to admit it, wouldn't know how. He couldn't because the whirlwind of emotions was a fierce scream that caused a stir in his mind. Five looked at you and saw a masterpiece - sublime and human art at the same time - and he didn't know how to name those emotions. And now, unexpectedly trapped by the intensity, Five was unable to reason properly when he was close to you.

All he could see was an excessively beautiful girl who was standing in front of him as something he wanted very much. And if you understood the state Five was in whenever you talked to him, you would have stopped at the first sentence. No, if you really understood, you would end up running as fast as you could. But you could not understand what Five did not understand.

So he preferred the loneliness of the apocalypse to those emotions that made him feel hot and cold at the same time, which seemed like his stomach was filling with birds, all beating their wings and trying to escape, and then his hands started to shake.

Five didn't know what it was all about, a mixture of emotions; attraction, passion, an overwhelming desire to touch you. But even if he knew how to name it all, he wouldn't know how to act. Five was a genius, he could solve the biggest equations about space and time with his eyes closed, but as a lover, however, he put his feet in his hands.

Five never thought of the most tender emotions without coldness and objectivity, they were great to justify the actions of human beings. But you have revoked absolutely everything.

Over time, it started to hurt physically in Five not to touch you, not to succumb to the most overwhelming wills. And then, one night he took refuge in a bottle of vodka, you walked in the door and it was the end for Five. He got up from the bar, came to you in determined and firm steps, and, sending everything to hell, held your face in his hands and kissed you as if he wanted to do this for a lifetime. Maybe more.

You were the opposite of Five. It was as if you were the heat and he was the ice, day and night. You burned like summer heat and Five burned like winter cold. You were everything Five was not: extroverted, agitated, knew how to deal with emotions very well, you were passionate, caring, loving, you loved physical contact. So when you returned the kiss, Five felt himself burning with your warm touch.

You wrapped your fingers around the black strands on the back of his neck, letting him put your bodies together and the kiss started to heat up. And then you said:

“You're beautiful.”

And that's where Five fell in love with you. He fell in love because when you took a breath and looked into his eyes when you said that, he felt like you could see the depths of his soul, all the secrets, all the sins, all the fears. You knew him, deeply.

Five was no longer able to stay away from you after this event. He always chose your side at a table, he was very less acid in conversation whit you were. And when you two played chess, and he let you win on purpose just to see your happy smile and your eyes shining, he knew was in trouble.

While Five tried to deal with so many new emotions and so many traumas, you were the opposite. You have been in love with him for so long, even when you saw his painting on top of the fireplace, you felt something different. So when you two kissed, came closer, you let your feelings out.

You were a loving person by nature, you loved hugging people, physical contact. You were an incorrigible romantic and, to be honest, you loved being like that. You loved feeling too much.

So with Five it was no different. You liked holding hands, hugs, more tender kisses and also quick hello kisses or bye. You loved touching physically, either way. But being like that taught you that many people didn't taste the same as you. And in the case of the Hargreeves, so broken and lost, dealing with feelings was not easy, especially to express it physically.

But with Five it was… more difficult.

He was very reserved, controlled, closed. You felt perfectly when he went rigid whenever you touched him: any affection on the arm, kiss on the cheek when you had to go to college, hugs.

You started to think that maybe he didn't like you that much or didn't want something serious, but Five was always looking for you. Whether showing up at your apartment, in your room, or going to be near you at the mansion or kissing you. So you ended up realizing that he just didn't handle feelings well.

It was very cold that night, you were in your room with the books and college notebooks on the bed, trying to solve some calculus equations, otherwise you would end up repeating in that subject. Your head was already pounding and you were getting frustrated, it was definitely not for you and your desire was to hit your head on the book and give up.

“What a nightmare.” You mumbled.

“What a nightmare?”

The voice at your side made you scream out in fright, turning to the left and seeing Five standing on the edge of your bed. The distilled moonlight came in through your open window and bathed the man in front of him with a builder in his black hair and alabaster skin, you held your breath, Five was always so beautiful that he should be considered a crime.

His hands were in the pockets of his dark pants, followed by the shirt and blazer from the Academy uniform. Five looked at you with a small condescending smile in the corner of your mouth, and you felt your heart pounding.

“Ah, it's just a college subject.” You sighed, looking at the notebooks in front of you “It's a nightmare.”

Then Five leaned forward, looking closely at your notes.

“You know where you went wrong, don't you?”

You jaw dropped, and you turned to the notebooks with your calculations. That was the only exercise that you thought was correct.

You felt frustration rising from your feet to your head, snaking through your body. You snorted, running your hand through your hair, it had been hours since you tried to understand that misfortune.

“I will never graduate, that's it. I accept the defeat of the God of mathematics.” You grunted, leaving the pencil on top of the books, giving up.

Five laughed softly, sitting beside your bed, still far enough away not to touch you.

“Give me the pencil.” He pointed to the object and you handed it over.

You frowned when Five pulled your notes to him, balanced the pencil in your other hand and redo your calculations at the end of the sheet.

You should have paid attention to what Five was doing, at each step, but the truth was that you got lost looking at him. The winter breeze shook his black strands as if they were a cloth from the night sky, his emerald green eyes were focused, and a slight crease on his forehead indicated that he was concentrating.

Your heart raced, the world seemed to stop breathing and the air took on a caustic and magical intonation. You would show all your shadows if Five showed his, you would do anything to show how sublime he was.

Then Five looked up at you, and the hemisphere seemed to make sense that second. So you leaned over and kissed him. You kissed because there was no cell in you that didn't want to kiss him. Because Five was a young god and you were just a mortal surrendered to his charms.

But you felt his muscles go rigid, the spontaneous physical contact catching him off guard.

Five burned in contradictions. It burned in the hot fire of passion and burned in the icy heat of feelings. Your touch was potent and had an overwhelming effect on Five.

He wondered what would happen if he had sex with you at that moment. Would he burn in your heat or would he be consumed by troubled emotions? Would he feel every part of your body pulse or would he lose himself in the confusion of his own mind?

Five gently parted his lips, still close enough for his breath to hit your lips.

“I feel your tension. Everything is fine.” You commented quietly.

Five just breathed, his eyes confirming to you what his words didn't say.

“I'm sorry for everything you've been through.” You were sincere, and cautiously put your hand under his. “But you have to understand that it’s normal and good to feel emotions. It's okay not to understand them. Feelings are not like math.”

Five felt your touch become more present, and you gently approach. He should have said something, but his body started to contradict his mind and he got lost in a blue shambles. He desperately wanted you. Wanted to fuck you until feel you completely and kiss you until taste love. But he also wanted to get away. He wanted to go away and push all those feelings and emotions under the rug.

But when you sat closer to him, and your hands cupped his face, Five realized he couldn't leave.

“How would you react if I did that..”

Then he noticed your mischievous smile, and before he could say anything, you held him more firmly, and filled any part of his face with kisses that you could reach.

You laughed between Five's kisses and protests. But you only stopped after the twentieth kiss. Five was marked with your lipstick, his eyes closed for you, his face in a warning expression.

“Y/N!” He grunted, wiping his face “Are you crazy?”

But his cheeks were red and you could feel his temperature high from where you were.

You laughed louder, settling on the bed.

“.You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” You pointed at his cheeks, waved your index finger between them, signaling.

Five frowned even more, trying to wipe the lipstick marks off his face. But slowly, a little smile was struggling to come to his face.

“You are smiling!”

“You are so childish!” he rolled his eyes, but his voice was soft.

“You love Me!” Then you threw yourself at him again, kissing his face where the marks had been cleaned.

Five grunted, but ended up just resting his hands on your waist, feeling ... relaxing.

When you stopped laughing and looked at him, Five held his gaze. Gently, his right hand went to your face, removing a lock of your hair from your eyes.

“I think you're right.”

His voice was low, like a summer breeze, and yours eyes lit up when you understood the meaning of what he was talking about. But Five didn't give you time to answer, he leaned over and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You love him too.

642 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

sister story: meteor, m | myg

masterpost

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic

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remuswriting · 4 years

Text

first words; t. kei

Summary: In a world where the first words your soulmate say to you is on your wrist, Y/N manages to get “hello”

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Male! Reader

Warnings: Intense angst, Hanahaki, slight enemies to lovers, swearing, mentions of fighting, brief mention and vomit (mentioned with Hanahaki).

Word Count: 18,572 words

Notes: This took months to write but it’s finally done. I hope it’s not entirely over the top and somewhat enjoyable. This is my longest ficlet I’ve ever made and I literally slept for 14 hours after I finished writing it. Anyways, would you guys be interested in longer pieces like this or do you prefer shorter things?

Read on ao3 if it glitches on you!

Y/N loved the concept of soulmates. Seeing the first words they’d say to you on your wrist seemed magical. Sure, it was weird to get it on your 10th birthday, because what if you had met your soulmate before then? The h/c haired boy didn’t really care though because soulmates were so cool. Someone that was to love you for the rest of your life and in return, you loved them back.

His mother had to tell him to calm down because he’d start coming up with all sorts of scenarios of what they could possibly say to each other. His best friend Hinata Shouyou shared the same enthusiasm over it though, so he supported the excitement his mother didn’t like.

Hinata’s 10th birthday was before Y/N, and the words on his wrist were really strange.

“One day I’m gonna set for you.”

The two spent the ginger’s birthday looking up what that meant, and they learned about volleyball. The ginger didn’t seem as excited about it until he’d see the match on the tv when he was riding his bicycle a year later.

The h/c boy’s birthday finally came around and Hinata had stayed over so they could find out what his soulmate would say together. When the clock struck midnight, the word appeared and Y/N wondered if he still liked soulmates.

“Hello.”

He looked over at Hinata, who was staring at his wrist in confusion. It was common to get regular greetings, but that didn’t mean Y/N wanted one. It was fairly silent until his mother opened the door excitedly with a huge grin. She had been excited about this too, but hearing her child come up with things his soulmate would say was hard to handle at times.

“So, what’s she going to say?” The woman asked, and Y/N slowly showed her his wrist.

“She’s going to say hello.”

Silence fell back over the room. His mother and father had cool words, but he got stuck with ‘hello’? He wanted something cool like what his father had, which was ‘We’ve been here for way too long’ or is his mother’s ‘You’re right, let’s leave.’ Those are cool and you automatically know who’s your soulmate, but hello gave you nothing to work with.

“I know what to do,” Y/N said as he put his hands together. “I will just never say hello unless it’s to an adult.”

His mother and his father looked at him confused before the ginger’s face lit up as if he suddenly understood. Y/N’s mother was still in the dark about what was going on.

“She’ll be the one to know! If you say something weird, then there’s no mistaking it!” Hinata exclaimed and the h/c boy nodded excitedly.

“Yes! If she’s decided to mess up my life, then I’ll mess up hers!” Y/N exclaimed, and his mother just stared at him and sighed. Of course, her son would act like this.

When they went back to school Monday, people asked him about what his soulmate would say and would look disappointed that it was only ‘hello.’ He was known around school for getting everyone involved in interesting conversations, people knew who he was without even having to say hello. Next year, he’d be in junior high and hopefully he’d find his soulmate there.

****

Y/N moved before his first year of junior high, he was 30 minutes away by car; so, it wasn’t like he was 100% gone. He played on his junior high volleyball team because he had also fallen in love with volleyball when Hinata did, and he hoped one day they’d go against each other.

“Hey, you’re L/N, right?” Naoko asked, he was on the soccer team. The h/c boy nodded as he sat on a bench outside wrapping his ankle with an ace bandage. He had twisted it during practice but refused to let anyone actually know about it.

“You’re Naoko, right?” He asked, and the black haired boy nodded. Soon enough the soccer player sat next to the h/c boy on the bench. It was awkward because the h/c boy haired boy didn’t know why the other was there.

“I have a friend who wants to confess to you, but doesn’t know how,” Naoko said, and the other just looked at him confused.

“I don’t know either,” he said as he looked back at the wrapping as he checked to make sure it was good. “I don’t ever get confessions and I’ve never confessed. Why not ask a girl or something?”

The black haired boy looked at him frustrated, but not in a way that it was at him. What was so frustrating about all of this? The girl could just come up and say she likes him, it’s not like he’ll accept if he doesn’t know her.

“Just tell her to just confess to me. My schedule is pretty much the same every day.”

“It’s not a girl,” Naoko said. “That’s why he doesn’t know what to do.”

Y/N looked up at him in shock and confusion. He’d always thought it was fictional for people to be gay; something for women to fetishize, so he’d never given it a single thought. The guys in his class always talked about girls, but he had never really been interested in it. He preferred to be around his teammates because they made him feel warm. Well, not all of them, but definitely Takeshi.

Takeshi was a wing spiker who always told the team to rely on Y/N more because he was their libero. The libero always stared at him more than normal, but he couldn’t help it; he was so pretty with his brown eyes and bright smile. Y/N stopped for a second, realizing what he was thinking about blinked his eyes several times.

“Why did you even come talk to me?” He asked, and the black haired boy dragged his hands down his face.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Naoko admitted. “I just thought if I told you and you said you were straight, then it’d save him heartbreak.”

“If I don’t know him, then I definitely won’t date him, so do I know him?” L/N asked, and the other shook his head.

“No, but everyone knows you,” the black haired boy said with a slightly smile. “You do realize that you are friends with nearly everyone in our year whether or not you know it, right?”

Y/N nodded slightly because he did know that but it didn’t mean they really knew him. Very few people knew about the important things about him, so how could they possibly be in love with him?

“Yeah, but I still don’t know him. It’ll be pointless if he confesses to me.”

*****

Y/N started to shut down after he spoke to Naoko, because he didn’t know where he stood anymore with soulmates and sexuality. He’d stare at the word on his wrist and wonder if it was a girl or guy going to say it. What if he couldn’t fall in love with his soulmate? What if he never met his soulmate? What if he was gay?

He was so trapped in his head that he started to hate soulmates. Why was he required to fall in love with someone when he could who he wanted to? People had always frowned upon people loving someone that wasn’t their soulmate. Y/N had fallen in love with someone who wasn’t his soulmate, his best friend Takeshi.

It was hard to escape the other because they were on the same team, so he just ignored it. He put everything into volleyball because that’s how he knew how to cope. Whenever he was emotional, he just used it to his advantage in volleyball. His coach always praised how his receives were going to beat Nishinoya Yuu from Chidoriyama Junior High, which the h/c libero didn’t think was accurate.

Hinata wanted to be the next tiny giant and practiced constantly for it. He constantly told Y/N how he wished he had a real team so he could finally practice like he wanted to. Shouyou had once said he wanted to meet the volleyball player he idolized and that Y/N could do that by meeting Nishinoya (not that Y/N idolized him, he just really wanted to be like him), but the h/c haired boy said the only way he was going to meet the libero was by playing against him.

His relationship with Hinata was unaffected because he wasn’t attached to his volleyball team. Shouyou was completely outside of that world, even when they played together occasionally. Y/N was grateful to have some sense of what he used to be like and have someone not constantly question if he was okay.

“I want to know what crazy person says to someone that they’ll set for them,” Shouyou said as he and Y/N tossed the volleyball around. “Especially as their first words.”

“We’ve always said that she’ll probably be better at volleyball than you,” Y/N said, and the ginger gasped.

“I’ve never said that!”

Y/N laughed into his hand and Hinata looked genuinely upset.

“Oh, I guess it was just your mom and me that said that.”

The ginger threw the volleyball at his best friend, only for the h/c haired boy to receive it. Hinata forgot all about the comment, now asking his friend to teach him how to receive.

Although he was doing good in volleyball, he wasn’t close to his teammates like he used to be. He focused on practice, not anyone else’s problems because he didn’t see a need to. This was a different him, because he used to be the person who spent so much time trying to figure out what was going on with others because he just wanted to.

Takeshi tried to talk to him about it, because it was concerning to see one of your best friends become something that wasn’t him. After numerous ‘I’m fine, stop asking’, the ace got the point and stopped asking. The watchful eye made the h/c haired libero angry though because the other didn’t have the right to do that to him; to care.

He handle his anger by taking it out during practice and one day he managed to knock someone down from how aggressively he had received the ball. No one had known that was possible, but it was apparently something he could do.

“L/N! Go take a breather!” Coach screamed at him, and he nodded as he walked out of the gym.

He found himself standing in front of the bathroom, his forehead against the wall before he turned around a pressed his back against the wall and slid down. The moment he hit the cold tiled ground; he hid his face between his pulled up knees. He needed to stop thinking; stop feeling. Interhigh was coming up fast and he needed to focus on that.

“Hey, you okay?” Takeshi asked, and Y/N didn’t look at the brunette. He wished he weren’t actually there. “L/N-san, I know you say you’ve been okay, but you’ve really been acting weird recently.”

“It doesn’t matter how I’m acting,” L/N said softly, afraid he’d start to open up. “Why are you even out here?”

“Coach wanted me to come make sure you wouldn’t break anything,” Takeshi said as he fell to sit next to the other. “I didn’t think you would though.”

“Why are you my friend” Y/N asked as he finally looked at the other. Somehow Takeshi was still unbelievably attractive even though he was drenched in sweat to where it was almost like a hair gel that controlled his unruly curls. “Why did you decide to be my friend?”

“L/N-san, you’re friends with everyone. You’re fun to be around and you always know how to make people happy. You know how to make me happy,” the brunette said slowly as he looked over at the other with a soft smile. “That’s why some of us are worried about you. It’s like you’ve cut all of us out and you’ve gotten so aggressive during practice. None of us know why.”

“Things are just really difficult right now,” Y/N said as he looked down to his feet, internally chanting not to stare at Takeshi for too long. “Just been a lot on my mind.”

“I understand that,” Takeshi said with a laugh. “I’m in love with someone who isn’t my soulmate, but volleyball has been helping me get my mind off of that.”

“Who?” Y/N asked without hesitation, and it felt pathetic to get so excited over hearing that. Maybe this would be their confession, sure it wasn’t romantic but it would be a confession. Takeshi blushed as he looked down at his lap.

“Don’t tell anyone, but it’s Tamura-san,” the brunette said softly, and Y/N felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. Of course, it would be Tamura; Takeshi’s childhood best friend and captain of their team.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” the libero said with a soft smile and the other smiled back at him. “You can head back; I just need a couple more minutes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I promise I’m fine.”

Takeshi left and the h/c haired boy sighed as he leaned back so the back of his head was against the wall. Soulmates wouldn’t hurt him like this. They wouldn’t be in love with someone else and tell him like this because they believed they were only best friends. Soulmates had to love you back, they always did, and they wouldn’t break your heart like this.

Y/N let himself cry for a couple minutes, because maybe this could be what he needed to get it all out of his system. He could stop being in love with someone who clearly didn’t love him. It was going to be okay because he had a soulmate out there waiting for him.

*****

After the talk with Takeshi, his feelings did go away but knowing he was gay didn’t. Y/N decided to just stop thinking about that and put all he had into volleyball, but he accidentally stopped talking to Takeshi like they once had. It had hurt too much to around someone who broke his heart, but he was nearly through with feeling those things.

They won at Interhigh, beating Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High in the process and Y/N will never forget the look of anger on the King’s face. The libero had received nearly every serve the setter had done, even if it was aimed to be somewhere the h/c haired boy wasn’t. Beating Shiratorizawa Academy Junior High was also the highlight, even though he hadn’t been able to beat Ushijima like he had wanted to. Winning put L/N in high spirits, even made him act like himself again for the rest of the day.

“Y/N!” A voice called out and the libero turned to see Hinata running towards him at full speed. “That was so crazy!”

“I didn’t know you came to watch,” Y/N said as he caught his friend in his arms before he could be tackled. “You told me he was an asshole to you in June, so you know I had to really destroy him.”

“Your whole team is so cool! My team wasn’t even really a team,” Hinata said, and Y/N nodded, because he knew. He knew the ginger had been the only member of the volleyball club until three first years showed up and he forced his two friends that knew nothing about volleyball to join for the game. “So, it’s really cool to see my best friend playing on a real one!”

“Come on, L/N-san, the bus is about to leave,” Sora said, and the h/c haired boy sighed at Hinata’s upset face.

“You’re already leaving me!” He wailed and the libero whacked him upside the head.

“Come over tomorrow. It’s not like you’re incapable of doing that.” He ruffled his best friend’s hair. “I’ll text you later, Shouyou.”

“Okay! See you tomorrow!”

*****

“So, you’re really going to go to nationals?” Hinata asked, and the libero nodded.

“You bet, but I need to figure out what high school I’m going to before that,” Y/N said as he looked over at the other. “Do you know where you’re going to go?”

Hinata was drinking a cup of hot chocolate Y/N’s parents had made for him. The worn volleyball they always played with was situated in his lap. L/N found it funny that they were both obsessed with volleyball, but Shouyou wanted to always be touching the ball. Hinata looked over at him with the biggest grin Y/N had seen in a while.

“Karasuno obviously! I’m going to be the next tiny giant!” Hinata exclaimed and the h/c boy chuckled at the excitement.

“Shiratorizawa is trying to recruit me, but maybe I’ll go to Karasuno,” he said softly, which made Hinata’s brown eyes light up. His mother wouldn’t like this decision, because she wanted him to go to the best places because he was outrageously talented and pretty good academically. “My only question is what are you going to do every morning? Take the train?”

“No, I’m going to bike!” Hinata exclaimed as the volleyball fell to the snow covered grass. He looked overly excited, as if it were the best idea he’s ever had; it might have been though. “I’ve been getting used to biking everywhere. That’s how I got here.”

Y/N looked over at his friend as he shook his head with a chuckle. How was his childhood friend so determined and motivated? The h/c haired boy had once been like that too, but then he became scared of himself and the world around him. It was hard to give your absolute all when you’re scared if people will learn who you truly are.

“You amaze me,” he said as he ruffled the ginger’s hair a laugh.

“If you go to Karasuno, then we can finally play volleyball together!” Hinata exclaimed and the libero gave him an awkward smile.

Y/N was scared to join another volleyball team, because what if he felt in love with another team member? His heart had been destroyed last time, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He caught himself looked at his wrist before he really looked at Shouyou, who was grinning as he picked up the volleyball as if it were his prized possession, and Y/N knew he’d do anything to make his best friend happy.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can.”

*****

Going to Karasuno was different than what L/N had been expecting, even though he didn’t really have any expectations going into it. He knew he’d be on the volleyball team and most likely in the college prep class, but that was about it. When school was over, Hinata was waiting outside the h/c haired male’s classroom and Y/N really wanted to strangle him.

“I know you don’t know this, but first years typically don’t go to practice for the first week of school,” Y/N said as he was being dragged to the gym.

“I’m just excited, I have to go now!” Hinata exclaimed, and the h/c boy chuckled as he continued to follow the other to the gym.

Karasuno High had a really nice campus, but Y/N would never say it was nicer than his junior high’s campus. He missed that school though; missed his team. He regretted not doing a proper goodbye with them because he had started to cut off friendships when he realized he started to love Takeshi again.

When Hinata opened the gym doors, there stood Kageyama Tobio in all of his shitty glory. He had heard Hinata talk about the setter, but L/N also had dealt with the setter before. He had defeated his team at Spring Interhigh, but the libero destroyed him that November. The setter focused more on the ginger than he did the libero, which was nice. The e/c eyed boy needed to breathe because he wanted to absolutely destroy the setter.

“Aren’t you L/N Y/N?” Kageyama asked, and Hinata was outraged that he remembered his best friend’s name but not his.

“Yeah, aren’t you the douche bag whose teammates ditched?” Y/N asked, he looked like he didn’t care but his voice held resentment. “I’d say that’s why your team lost to mine, but we were already kicking your asses before that.”

“You don’t know shit,” Kageyama sneered, and three upperclassmen showed up. They looked at the three first years before one of them looked at Y/N in amazement.

“Noya is going to freak when he gets back,” the shaved head boy said, and the first year libero looked at him so confused.

“Is that a good thing?”

The attention was turned over to the black haired setter, and he was thankful he wasn’t being put in the spotlight like that again. He wanted to be seen on the court, not outside of it (although that became mainly a thing in his third year of junior high). L/N then watched in horror the chaos of Kageyama and Hinata’s rivalry, and then watched as they were kicked out of the gym.

“Well, that was something,” he said, mainly to himself, and Sugawara (the vice-captain) laughed slightly.

“We take teamwork very seriously here,” the captain, Daichi, said, and the first year just nodded slowly.

“My coach in junior high was the same way,” Y/N said before he looked away. “Sometimes we’d get way into our heads and have to be kicked off the court for a bit so we could breathe. You can’t play as a team if you can’t only think about what’s happening on the court.”

After they spoke for a bit, the first year sheepishly asked if he could join practice and the team said it was okay by them. Y/N decided he liked his new team but the guilt from not saying goodbye to his old one loomed over him the entire practice.

*****

L/N woke up in a good mood. He had finally actually slept for the first time in who knows how long and felt good because of it. Maybe it was because he wasn’t constantly stressing about what anyone finding out if he was gay, because they didn’t know him well enough too and didn’t seem like they really cared to know.

“Y/N!” Hinata called out, and Y/N turned to see his best friend running towards him excitedly. He also looked like he had been working out, but it was only 8am and the ginger never looked like that after biking.

“Hey, Shouyou,” the libero said as he stopped to wait for the other. “What’s up with you?”

“Sugawara-senpai and Tanaka-senpai let me and Kageyama practice this morning,” the ginger said with stars in his eyes, and the other looked concerned.

“Does Daichi-senpai know about it?”

Hinata shook his head, panic in his eyes at the mention of the volleyball captain. L/N chuckled at the other before the h/c haired boy caught eyes with a tall blonde boy across the yard. He looked like he didn’t want to be surrounded by everyone, and Y/N couldn’t blame him. Even though he was best friends with Hinata, he really didn’t like to befriend people anymore but part of him wanted to befriend the annoyed blonde he had just seen.

“Who are you staring at, Y/N?” Hinata asked as he tugged on the h/c haired boy’s sleeve.

The libero looked over at the energetic boy, blinking a couple times. It wasn’t that he was disorientated, but because he hadn’t really been paying attention to anyone around him except the blonde boy.

“Some blonde guy,” he said before he bumped shoulders with the other. “Let’s get to class, because you definitely need to use your brain.”

“Hey! That’s not nice!”

“Shouyou, we’ve been friends for years; I don’t have to be nice to you.”

*****

Y/N decided to swing by afternoon practice, just to check it out, when he saw the blonde boy there from earlier there. Daichi was standing in front of him and there was another student next to the blonde, he had olive toned hair and a nervous composure. The h/c walked over to the three, an awkward smile on his face, because what if they were other volleyball members.

“Hello, L/N,” Daichi said, and the libero sent him a bright smile.

“Hey, Daichi-senpai.”

The two others looked at him confused, which was understandable. The h/c haired boy had been confused yesterday when everyone had being introduced. Although yesterday was a lot to handle.

“Hello, I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi,” the olive toned boy said with a slight smile.

The blonde looked over at him out of the side of his eye, seeming to evaluate him. Usually the libero would be uncomfortable but being so close to the guy who interested him when he had seen him outside earlier that day trumped the nerves.

“Hello,” he said, not adding anything, which made Y/N do what he always did; say something ridiculous.

“I wish snakes had arms,” Y/N said, and the blonde and olive toned boys frozen, which caused the h/c haired boy to tilt his head before his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I know that’s really weird, but my soulmate is to say hello and I decided to say crazy things so they’ll know.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The blonde asked, and L/N took a step back as he put his hands up as if surrendering.

“Yeah? I mean hello is a pretty vague thing.”

“My wrist has said ‘I wish snakes had arms’ all these years because of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened before he looked to the ground and chuckled awkwardly. How was he supposed to respond to that? It was technically blondie’s fault for being so basic by saying hello.

“Tsukki, it’s not like he knew what he was going to say,” Yamaguchi said, and the blonde rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

“It’s not my fault that you had to say the most boring thing! How was I supposed to know who my soulmate was if we were both to say hello or hi?” Y/N screamed, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “You haven’t given me an answer.”

“Wow, my soulmate is a little bitch,” Tsukishima said, and that’s when Daichi decided to step in.

“Hey, we don’t talk like that to our teammates here,” the captain said strictly while the two soulmates glared at each other. “Do I need to do what I did to Kageyama and Hinata to you two?”

“I’d quit,” Y/N said, wondering if maybe he could just pretend he had never met the tall blonde. “You said I couldn’t play in the 3-on-3 anyways because I’m a libero, so you can’t punish us that way.”

“Maybe you should quit,” Tsukishima sneered, and someone was suddenly holding the h/c haired boy back. His blood was boiling and all he wanted to do was kick the other down to the ground so he could properly deck him.

“Maybe you should learn that being an asshole isn’t a personality trait,” Y/N sneered back, which made the other’s brown eyes narrow at him.

“I think we can call it a day for the first years,” Daichi said, obviously looking panicked. “We’ll talk tomorrow when everyone is calmed down.”

Tsukishima started to walk away, mumbling something that caused Yamaguchi to give the blonde a shocked look.

“You know we eventually have to fall in love with each other, it’s how soulmates work!” L/N screamed, which stilled both of the other first years. Tsukishima didn’t turn around, but Yamaguchi turned to look at the h/c haired boy, who was still being held back by Tanaka.

“We’ll see about that,” the blonde said before he started to walk again.

“I wish my first words had been ‘you’re a piece of shit’ instead of the dumb shit I said,” Y/N mumbled, and Sugawara appeared, a hand covering his mouth.

“Your first words were really ‘I wish snakes had arms’?” The vice-captain asked, and the h/c haired boy nodded sadly. He wished it had been something better than that, but at least it wasn’t hello. “You really will fit in on this team.”

*****

Y/N wasn’t included in the three-on-three because he had been practicing with the team and they knew his playing by now. It also just wasn’t fair for one team to have a libero and the other not to. He was told to come to the match for it because it showed team unity.

“Y/N, this is going to be so fun!” Hinata exclaimed as they walked to Karasuno High together. The ginger had stopped at L/N’s house so they could walk there together, also to drop off his bike.

“It’ll be your second game ever, right?” Y/N asked before he took a bite into a pork bun he had brought from home.

He was glad his mother wasn’t there to see him because she’d scold him. It was considered lazy to eat while you walked down the street, because you didn’t know how to plan your day out, but the h/c haired libero couldn’t find it in him to care. Hinata had refused to eat one, because he was worried it would make him sick.

“Yeah!” Hinata exclaimed before he suddenly looked nervous. “Oh no, what if I mess up?”

“Everyone messes up, Sho-chan. I wasn’t a starter until my second year because I messed up receives constantly,” Y/N said with a yawn. “You’ll get to play no matter who wins, so don’t worry.”

“Kageyama won’t get to play setter until his second year and he’s really upset about that,” Hinata said before he pushed his hair down and started doing an impression of the first year setter. “I must do everything volleyball by myself and I don’t need any help. I must always play setter.”

“As much as I hate him, I get where’s he’s coming from. If I couldn’t be a libero, I’d just quit. It’s my position, especially because I’ve only learned how to only do that. I’ve never spiked a ball before.”

Hinata’s eyes went wide. Apparently Y/N had never gave the other that information. He assumed the ginger would figure out that being a libero means you can’t really spike or set a ball, so there wasn’t a need for him to learn those things. L/N wanted to assume he’d be decent at it since he could jump high, but he didn’t know if his spikes would be any good.

“Spiking is the best!” Hinata yelled, only to be shushed by the other. “It makes me feel so gaah, you know?”

“You mean it makes you feel alive?”

“Yeah, but more!”

The rest of the walk was full of Hinata rambling about how much he loved spiking and how hard receiving was. It was the first time they had done this since before Y/N moved and it felt good to do it. Made it feel like no time had passed, even though Y/N was 5’6” now and Hinata was still the same height but with fluffier hair.

“We never talked about the fact that Tsukishima is your soulmate,” Hinata said, and the libero sighed as he looked at the ground.

“We’re not going to. I’m going to ignore the fact as long as possible.”

“You shouldn’t though! You know that can be dangerous!” Hinata exclaimed as he threw his arms around. “Y/N-chan, I know you don’t like that it’s a guy, but it doesn’t stop the fact that if you ignore it then you could get Hanahaki disease or Kirameki disease!”

“Those are unrequited love things, Shouyou,” Y/N said as he rolled his eyes. “Also, they rarely happen in soulmate cases. It’s typically when you love someone who isn’t your soulmate. Or if your soulmate loves you and you don’t love them at all.”

“Still!” Hinata yelled before he grabbed at his friend’s arm to stop him. “There’s nothing wrong with being with a guy! Just make sure you don’t get hurt!”

“So, you don’t care that I apparently like guys?”

Hinata made a confused face and shook his head.

“Why would I care? It’s not like you’re in love with me.”

“Yeah, I do have standards.”

“Hey!” Hinata exclaimed with an annoyed expression and the h/c haired boy laughed. “I think I’m part of the high standards!”

“Shouyou, you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” Y/N said as he tried not to laugh. “Having standards means someone has certain things they want in someone.”

“Explaining it made it worse!” Shouyou yelled as he threw his head back.

Y/N didn’t know why he was so worried about Hinata knowing he was gay. The ginger was still the same idiotic person that the h/c haired boy had known back in elementary school. As his laughing died, his smile stayed on his face. He really was thankful for his best friend.

*****

Y/N found himself staring at Tsukishima as the blonde played in the three-on-three. It was normal to watch people play that you’d never seen before, but he knew he couldn’t stop staring because the other looked good when he played. L/N was fairly certain he didn’t look all that attractive when he played because he sweated as if he’d never have another day to.

“So, snakes with no arms,” Sugawara said as he went to stand next to the h/c haired libero. The third year setter loved the first words so much that it was now a weird nickname. “I see you’re staring at Tsukishima, especially after he took off his sweatshirt.”

That was attractive. Seeing the middle blocker getting into the game to the point he had to take his sweatshirt off was enough to get Y/N wanting to get over the entire ‘I hate you’ thing. Maybe if the blonde kept it up, L/N would be attracted to him enough to want to kiss him. He couldn’t just tell someone that because that’s weird. It would be especially weird if it were his upperclassmen who was staring at him way too intensely. His cheeks started to burn red from the attention and he looked at the floor.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but your staring is a bit too much.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Sugawara looked away from the other, and it seemed like he actually felt bad that he overwhelmed the other. The libero could tell that the third year probably would go back and not stress him out if he had the chance to.

“It’s okay to look at him though. He is your soulmate,” Suga said, and the first year looked over at the ash blonde curiously. “No one is going to get mad at you, well except for Tsukishima. He seems like a real stick in the mud kind of person while you’re peppier and a very subdued version of Hinata.”

Y/N laughed a little as he shook his head. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or not.”

“I don’t insult my underclassmen until I’ve known them for at least a month,” the vice-captain said and the first year gave him a weird look.

“I guess that gives me time to do stupid shit and not be bullied for it.”

Sugawara laughed as his hand landed of Y/N’s shoulder. When he looked at the libero, his eyes held more mischief than the h/c haired boy liked.

“Insulting and bullying are two different things.” The third year looked over and pointed at Tsukishima. “Anyways, you can go back to watching your stick in the mud soulmate block people again.”

Y/N reluctantly did but he also watched Hinata, who would always be overdramatic and over trusting, spike Kageyama’s perfect sets. The h/c haired boy hoped the setter didn’t end up hurting his best friend by going back to his harsh ways from junior high. If he did hurt Hinata though, then L/N would have to kill him because no one was allowed to do that to. The ginger brought light with him everywhere, his name literally meant sunshine, and he had been the one thing in the h/c haired boy’s life that had never changed.

He wanted to see if he could receive those crazy quick attacks. Wanted to know how much power was behind them and if they’d hurt his arms when it came into contact with them? How fast would he have to become to know when they’re going to happen and where.

It wasn’t surprising that Kageyama and Hinata’s team won because they had created a new freak quick attack. This meant Kageyama would get to play as setter if the coach allowed him to and it seemed that Karasuno’s coach/advisor did whatever the third years told him to. He’d get to play as a starter in their practice match against Seijoh because of course, the first year setter’s senpai had some sort of rivalry with him.

“Tell me, Kageyama,” Y/N said and the blue eyed first year glared at the other. “Damn, I was just going to ask why Oikawa seems to be targeting you.”

“I don’t know,” Tobio said as he looked down at the ground and h/c haired boy wasn’t so sure he believed that but didn’t say anything.

“Y/N-chan, did you see my spiking!” Hinata exclaimed and the libero nodded.

“Yeah! You’re better than I thought you were, but not by much.”

“So mean, Y/N!”

The h/c haired boy saw Tsukishima looking over at him, only for the blonde to look away. Soulmates were supposed to be curious of each other and try to learn more about one another, but it seemed the middle blocker was going to be difficult.

“Hey, Tsukishima. You’re really good at blocking,” Y/N said, seeing what would happen, and the blonde rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t ask,” Tsukishima said with a slight glare and the h/c haired boy shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t say it,” he said with a chuckle. “So, get used to it.”

“Annoying brat.”

*****

“You’re doing a terrible job at getting Tsukishima to like you,” Suga told Y/N before practice one day and the first year libero gave him a confused look.

“I’m not trying to do anything. It’s going to take time because he’s obviously incredibly stubborn,” Y/N said with a sigh. “So, it’s not worth rushing.”

“I met my soulmate in junior high. He goes to a different high school though,” Suga said before he chuckled slightly. “His first words to me were ‘I didn’t know angels existed’ and mine to him was ‘hey, are you going to faint’. He still calls me angel.”

Y/N smiled at his upperclassmen because that was one of the few slightly cute word exchanges he had heard of. Most middle schoolers had stupid ones but the libero couldn’t judge anyone by any means due to what he said.

“Why doesn’t he go here?” L/N asked and the ash blonde fetched his phone of his bag.

“He moved to Sendai right before first year of high school but we still talk,” Suga said before he showed the first year a photo of the ash blonde with a brunette with glasses.

“He looks like Haruhi Fujioka from Ouran High School Host Club,” L/N said and the Koushi looked at the photo and smiled.

“I guess you’re right.” He put his phone back in his back and gave the h/c haired boy a look. “You’re incredibly charming, just use it on Tsukishima. He’ll bully you for the rest of your life because of the words but at least you’ll have each other.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

*****

The sight of Kindaichi and Kunimi made Y/N roll his eyes. Of course, he had to see those two again as if having Kageyama on his team wasn’t bad enough. The dirty look they gave him as he walked by made him roll his eyes because of course they’d act like that. It hadn’t been Y/N’s fault Kitagawa lost but their own fault for crumbling as a team.

“We’re not going to lose to you again, L/N,” Kindaichi said and the h/c haired boy looked at him and shrugged.

“Words are just words, where are your actions to prove them?” He asked and it had been the last thing he said to the boy in front of him at Interhigh Finals. The turnip haired boy had always talked big but never fully showed what he actually had.

“Stop talking to them and come on,” Tsukishima said and the libero rolled his eyes.

“Okay but do you ever wonder if snakes have arms?” Y/N asked a smile on his face and the blonde glared at him.

“You make it so hard to even try to be nice to you,” Kei said as he walked ahead, no longer alongside L/N.

“Awe!” Y/N exclaimed as he covered his heart with his hands, making sure to be extra overdramatic. “You were trying to be nice to me, how cute!”

“L/N, stop harassing Tsukishima!” Daichi called out and Sugawara elbowed him in the side, making the captain let out a small ‘oof’ sound. “Let’s warmup!”

*****

The match was going just fine, especially the small competition that Watari and Y/N had going to see who could get the most digs. The Karasuno first year libero was fairly certain he was the only one aware of this competition but that didn’t matter to him because he wasn’t going to lose. He wanted to destroy Kindaichi every time they went against each other, purely because the other always made the comment he would beat Y/N.

Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attack took the other team by surprise but that was to be expected. Without it, L/N was pretty certain Karasuno wouldn’t have been doing so well. Seijoh had a team that was recruited, unlike the crow school. Seijoh had tried to recruit Y/N but his mother had been so fixed on him going to Shiratorizawa to the point she told him to just unfriend Hinata because he wasn’t on Y/N’s level anyways.

When Oikawa Tooru entered the court, the h/c haired libero looked him over and knew the pretty boy would most likely end up being trouble. He had been on the bench his first year of junior high but he had seen Seijoh’s setter destroying people with his jump serve and there was no telling how deadly it was now. No telling how badly the libero would want to receive every last one.

Y/N was rotated out with Tsukishima for reasons he didn’t understand but let happen. When Oikawa started targeting the blonde and Shouyou, he wanted back on the court then because sure the two couldn’t receive for shit but he wanted to be the one trying to receive those serves.

“Do they really not know how to receive?” Y/N asked Sugawara as he flinched at the sight of the two first year struggling. “I thought Hinata was getting better.”

“That’s him being better,” the third year said with a slight chuckle. “I thought you would know how bad Hinata is at volleyball since you came to Karasuno for him.”

Y/N hadn’t really gone to Karasuno entirely for Hinata but because he had someone to lean on, so then he didn’t fall in love with someone on the team. The fact that Tsukishima was his soulmate fucked up everything. He could’ve just gone to Shiratorizawa and been gay for Ushijima like nearly every other volleyball player and it be acceptable but instead he had to go to Karasuno and meet his fucking soulmate.

“L/N switch out with Tsukishima,” Kiyoko said and the two first years quickly did so.

The blonde looked annoyed and the h/c haired libero couldn’t blame him. It would be like Y/N trying to spike and block when he’s never done those things, although Tsukishima had learned to receive; just not to the ability he should have.

“Look at who Karasuno’s libero is,” Oikawa said and e/c eyes tracked his every movement. He was going to give a nasty serve and direct it at Hinata most likely. “Doesn’t mean much at this point.”

The serve was perfect and somehow Y/N got it to go up. He knew it looked flawless but his arms hurt like hell now. Hinata scored the last point and the libero smirked as he looked at Kindaichi. He’d always beat anyone who told him he couldn’t.

“That was a nice receive,” Oikawa said and the libero looked over at the setter before he shrugged.

“Pretty easy one to get so I’m not sure why everyone was struggling,” he lied and he could feel his arms throbbing, knowing that time was luck and he’d have to train to receive the other’s serves next time.

“Why are you with Karasuno? You obviously have more skill than anyone of them.”

How does someone say that you fell in love with someone in middle school who wasn’t your soulmate and realized you were gay, which broke you down and the only person you felt at ease with was your best friend who wanted to play volleyball with you, so you picked the school you never thought you go to?

“I mean I could’ve joined your team or Shiratorizawa but,” he said but he was cut off.

“Are you just going to talk all day?” Tsukishima asked and the other two players had no idea when the blonde had arrived.

“Sorry, seems that it’s time to go. It was good finally playing against you, Oikawa-san,” the h/c haired first year said before he turned to leave but the brunette grabbed his wrist.

Y/N looked down at his hand and Tsukishima stepped in, detaching the hand from the libero’s wrist. He didn’t speak but it was obvious the words he wanted to say were “don’t you dare” but the third year setter apparently couldn’t tell.

“I know you hate Kageyama, so why are you so okay with playing on the same team as him?” Tooru asked and there a weird sort of desperation in his eyes, as if he had been searching for an answer to the question for longer than he’d let on.

“I don’t think I actually hate him,” Y/N said with a shrug. “Hated how fucking annoying of an opponent he is.”

“Can you please stop talking about the king and go?” Tsukishima asked and he was obviously frustrated.

Your soulmate has to care for you. You could hate them with all you have and still care about them because that’s how soulmates work.

It was why Y/N knew he didn’t need to work so hard to get Tsukishima to like him because it would happen. His mother had always told him that your soulmate is required to love you, which wasn’t always beautiful. Sometimes you loved a person who was evil and you had no control over it.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you, Oikawa-san,” Y/N said and followed after the blonde middle blocker, who had an irritable expression on his face. “Thank you for getting me out of that.”

The first year middle blocker didn’t respond but Y/N could see the faint red tinge to his ears. What a tsundere.

*****

“Are you saying that because I’m short?” A voice asked as Y/N entered the gym to see Hinata next to a dark haired boy with a blonde streak in the front of his hair. He froze because that couldn’t be him.

“No, you’re good at receives,” Hinata said before he smiled wide. “Also, my best friend is a little taller than me and he’s a libero too!”

“Really?” Noya asked and L/N wanted to leave the gym and pretend he had never been on the volleyball team because meeting the other libero was going to be embarrassing.

“Yeah!” Hinata exclaimed before he noticed the h/c haired first year and pointed at him. “There he is!”

Noya looked at the frozen boy with wide eyes before he grinned so wide it looked like it could hurt. Tanaka, Sugawara, and Daichi were all over to the side, ready to watch this interaction. The second year had grumbled about the fact he hadn’t been able to play against third year L/N Y/N because he looked like he could kick his ass.

“You are L/N Y/N!” The 5’2” libero screamed as he went over to the other and all Y/N could do was nod. The libero was cuter without a net between them and it made the first year nervous. “I’m Nishinoya Yuu from Chidoriyama Junior High, you may remember me.”

“Of course, I remember you,” Y/N said with an insulted tone in his voice. “You were the best libero I ever went against in junior high. No one has ever pissed me off more but it made the game exciting.”

“I thought the same about you!” Noya exclaimed with twinkling eyes that made the h/c haired libero swoon slightly. “So, if you’ve gotten better, then I may be fucked.”

Y/N had found the second year libero attractive when he went up against him about two years ago. He’d never gone against a libero that was obviously as dedicated to the position as he was. Passion was attractive and the h/c haired boy would admit to that every time and it was probably why it was hard to find Tsukishima attractive because he just never seemed passionate about anything (except that once during the 3-on-3).

“He is definitely better than you,” Tanaka said, obviously just trying to rile up the second year libero. “Just wait until you go up against each other again and he kicks your ass.”

“I’m not that good.” It didn’t seem like the other two heard him and he wasn’t sure what to really say to get their attention. “He’s going to always be better than me.”

Noya looked over with a smirk that made the first year weak in the knees. He had never found anyone as attractive as the blonde streak second year and would have to say he still had a small crush on him. He wasn’t a second year in junior high anymore though and now knew who his soulmate was but why did the other still make him feel like he could be in love.

“No need in trying to flatter me when you’re already my favorite.” Noya laughed slightly and Y/N’s heart was beating so fast it hurt. “We will see who the best libero is but just know I’m not going to throw it just because I’m an amazing senpai.”

“I’d never want you to throw it, senpai,” Y/N said and the second year libero turned bright red at the title. The first year looked at him curiously, unsure as to why he turned so red. “Is everything okay?”

Tanaka’s hearty laugh rang throughout the gym and Noya glared at the shaved head middle spiker. There was obviously something more than L/N knew and he just kept looking at the two curiously because he didn’t understand what he was missing.

“Don’t worry, it’ll make sense later,” Sugawara said as he placed a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, only to make Y/N jumped slightly. “Or it may not and you’ll have to ask me what it means.”

Y/N just nodded as he looked over at the two second years, who were now wrestling, and sighed slightly. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do about Noya because this would result in disaster. It was already clear to him that he didn’t want to be soulmates with Tsukishima and if he started to fall in love with Noya– well who knows what would happen. Maybe he needed to quit the team because it was justifiable now because his nightmare would most likely come true.

“Maybe I should quit the team,” Y/N said and the ash blonde third year looked over at him curiously. “I mean Noya is going to be starter and I doubt we will ever need to sub for him, so I’ll just be waiting until my third year to finally play.”

“Are you really admitting defeat?” Noya asked and the h/c haired boy looked over to see the second year have a challenging look in his eye. “The L/N I played against two years ago would have never just said that. He probably would try his hardest to kick my ass and show me who’s boss, even as a first year.”

He was right because that’s exactly what Y/N had to do to play before his third year in junior high. He surpassed his senior because he wanted to play against Nishinoya and wanted to become good enough to consistently receive the powerful jump serves Oikawa had shown. L/N had struggled to get better but he did it in a way that surprised his coach as well as the amount of schools that had tried to recruit him for high school.

“Okay, so how do you want me to kick your ass?” Y/N asked as he took a step closer to Noya, who also took a step closer to the first year. “Want me to slam you to the ground? Or maybe you’d prefer for me to tease you until you’re at my feet.”

The blonde streak boy’s cheeks were burning bright pink and he couldn’t look at the boy in front of him, which cause Y/N to smirk. This wasn’t his normal self but the competitive side that came out whenever he was challenged, typically during a game.

“You’ve broken him!” Tanaka exclaimed with a laugh and L/N looked the second year libero up and down before rolling his eyes.

“What has L/N done?” Tsukishima asked as he entered the gym and he looked interested in knowing what’s going on. It was because his soulmate was being spoken about and you’re always curious when your soulmate is being spoken about. Part of Y/N wished it were more than that.

“He broke Noya!” Tanaka exclaimed, his laughter nonstop as if this were the funniest thing he had gotten to experience in a while.

“Noya challenged him and when L/N gave the same energy back, and well our libero started to malfunction,” Sugawara said and there was a glint of something in the blonde’s eyes.

“Oh really? Can L/N even beat Noya in a competition?” Tsukishima asked and the h/c haired boy turned around to look the middle blocker in the eyes.

“Do you just want to see me play?” Y/N asked with fake innocence in his voice. “It’s okay if you do because I’ll practice right in front of you.”

Tsukishima didn’t change in any way but the libero wasn’t fully ready to break him. He was in full on competitive mode, something he hadn’t shown off at the practice match because that one didn’t matter like the real thing would.

“Or do you want me to lose so I’ll go running to you and you can comfort me?” He asked as he tilted his head. “Too bad I’m not going to lose, so you’re just going to have to ask me to run to you.”

Tsukishima looked over the libero and Y/N knew this was a moment of your soulmate has to find interest in you; has to want you. Suga had said he really needed to charm the blonde but it seemed like he didn’t really have to try so hard.

“Wait, they’re soulmates?” Noya asked and Sugawara nodded as he watched the two first years, unsure if he was able to look away. “But I wanted him to be my soulmate!”

Tsukishima’s eyes shot over to the second year and there was a look that made the libero fidget slightly and quiet down. The blonde pushed the h/c haired boy’s shoulder gently for him to move as he looked at the blonde streak boy.

“It’s too bad that he already has one, isn’t it?” Tsukishima questioned before he turned back to the first year and rolled his eyes. He acted as if Y/N had just done what the blonde did, which made the first year libero scoff.

“I’m actually open to changing who my soulmate is.” Y/N’s smirk and how he checked out the middle blocker created just a tinge of pink on the blonde’s ears. “Mine seems to hate me most of the time.”

The tension was already thick but Tsukishima’s silence made it even worse. Hinata, who had somehow managed to stay quiet throughout all of this, decided to finally speak. L/N wasn’t sure if he should love his best friend of debate on fighting him.

“Did I ever tell you what my soulmate is going to say to me?”

Hinata’s eyes were bright and shining, which would make everyone assume that he was just being annoying but he was trying to get the attention off of the situation. It also helped that he hadn’t shared that since the entire thing of L/N and Tsukishima had happened. The excuse of it wasn’t every day that teammates ended up being soulmates and it was excited that it had happened.

“No, I don’t think you have,” Suga said as he looked over at the ginger boy, who grinned brightly. “Want to share it?”

“He always wants to share it,” Y/N said with a laugh and he wasn’t sure if they all knew that he and Hinata had been there for their words.

“One day I’m gonna set for you,” Hinata said as he showed his wrist. “It’s exciting that they also love volleyball. I just don’t know if it’s going to be a girl because isn’t that something a guy would say to you?”

Thankfully, this opened up a whole other debate and L/N turned to leave and maybe even go to the club room and stay there. Or maybe he’d just leave and never come to another practice because no matter how confident he could act; Noya would beat him. It wasn’t something that destroyed him to know because it made sense and you can’t go against sense.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tsukishima asked, his long fingers wrapped around the h/c haired boy’s wrist. If he really wanted to, Y/N could just break out of the hold and continue walking but he didn’t. “Well?”

“To the club room.” His voice is soft, unlike when he was cocky with competitiveness. “You’re free to join if you want.”

The hand let go of his wrist, which made it just fall limp to his side. He turned around to see Tsukishima looking at him with analytical eyes, which put him on edge. What would the blonde see that the libero wouldn’t want him to, or just not yet.

The effects of soulmates seemed to only be affecting Tsukishima and Y/N wasn’t sure as to why. There weren’t any feelings of wanting to be closer to the blonde. There weren’t really even any feelings of attraction. The middle blocker just existed and happened to be soulmates with him and that was that.

“Sure, why not.”

Yamaguchi said nothing when they walked past him, although it was obvious he wanted to. He wanted to make a comment about the sudden closeness between the two but it died before he even opened his mouth. Y/N wondered if the olive haired boy feared the middle blocker because he saw no reason to.

Did he see Tsukishima differently than everyone else? He didn’t see a real reason as to how he could. The blonde was just closed off and bitchy and the h/c haired boy had dealt with someone like that on his old team. He had gotten into a fight with L/N the second week into their first year because the libero just snapped back at any comments.

“So, you want to quit?” Tsukishima asked and the h/c haired boy looked over at him with a shrug. “Well, don’t.”

“Why?” Y/N asked as he tilted his head slightly and the blonde looked away from the other.

“Won’t be the same without you.” His ears were tinged pink. “Also, it shouldn’t matter if someone is better than you if you can obviously get better.”

A smile played on the libero’s lips as he looked the blonde over. “Are you trying to say that you think I’m a good player? Are you trying to compliment me?”

Tsukishima grumbled slightly as he looked down at the concrete. He was embarrassed and the h/c haired boy wanted to laugh but all he could do was smile at his soulmate. Moments like this were when L/N should find the middle blocker attractive because it was a moment where he was actually raw and not calculated like he wanted everyone to see.

“It’s not really a compliment if it’s a fact.”

Y/N stopped walking and stared at the blonde, who stopped in his tracks a couple of strides in front of the other. People had said that to him before and he never believed them. Sure, he knew he was a good libero but he wasn’t good enough in his book. Tsukishima saying it felt different though and the h/c haired first year would end up saying it was just because they were soulmates.

Soulmates always changed everything.

“Do you really mean that?” Y/N asked and his confident façade fell as he looked at the other with wide eyes. “Do you really think I’m good player?”

“Of course I do.” Tsukishima rubbed the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but his soulmate. “Everyone thinks so. Do you not?”

“Not really.”

Why was he telling the middle blocker this? They were merely teammates who didn’t actually talk about anything except for plays and when Tsukishima saved him from situations. He’d just blame soulmates because he didn’t think he’d start to actually want the blonde this fast.

“Why?” Tsukishima asked and he looked like he actually cared and it was too much for L/N.

“Maybe I’ll tell you another time.” He spoke fast. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. See you later.”

The blonde first year didn’t seem upset by the sudden change in heart and just moved to the side for the other to walk by. L/N started to run whenever Tsukishima was no longer in sight and ended up at the tennis court. Maybe he should’ve actually gone to the bathroom instead of receiving weird looks from the boys’ tennis club. He didn’t care enough to actually to turn back and fell to the ground to lay in the grass as he stared up at the blue sky.

He was scared to fall in love, even with Tsukishima. He was scared to fall in love with his own soulmate. How fucked up was that? Most people eagerly accepted the feelings that came with soulmates but those feelings just made him feel gross. It felt wrong. It all just felt wrong.

It didn’t feel wrong like this when he fell in love in junior high. It didn’t feel wrong to have a crush on Nishinoya. Why didn’t those feel wrong? Why did feelings concerning his soulmate feel wrong?

He didn’t like how it felt whenever Tsukishima gently touched his shoulder or small of his back the very few times he had done it. The feeling lingered until that night when he was in bed and it was all he could feel. It was all that consumed him to the point where he had to reach into his boxers and imagined it was Tsukishima’s warm hands instead of his own. After it was over, he felt so disgusting that he couldn’t look the blonde in the face for a couple of days.

Y/N hated how he always leaned in to hear more of what the other first year was saying. It was a soulmate thing because you always wanted to hear your soulmate whenever they spoke. He found it annoying and hated the way Tsukishima always turned his body towards him when he spoke. The way the blonde’s voice was deep and made L/N’s knees weak at times.

He wasn’t attracted to him though because it all felt wrong. It felt wrong to masturbate while he thought it was someone else. It felt wrong to be affected by a voice. It felt wrong to not even find that person attractive, even with everything else attached. Y/N wanted there to be something that made the blonde attractive but there was no spark there.

Takeshi had been attractive. He had made the h/c haired boy dizzy from his smile and how his eyes shined with excitement whenever he stepped into the gym. There was also the way he laughed and always leaned into the libero, which made his lightheaded. It all felt so good compared to whatever he was feeling with Tsukishima. Why did it feel so different?

*****

Tsukishima had grabbed his wrist during practice and pulled him out of the way of a rouge volleyball. Y/N wanted to scream at him to stop touching him because he couldn’t handle it. The thought of going home and eventually having to touch himself because it was all he could think about wasn’t something he wanted to do.

Instead he pulled away with an awkward smile before he went over to Nishinoya to practice more receives. Noya gave him a playful smile as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked with a laugh.

The second year hadn’t been quiet about his crush on the first year. He was loud about it to the point Tsukishima glared at him constantly and asked Y/N to change his position to something that wasn’t a libero. The h/c boy said that Noya would eventually find his soulmate and the crush would go away. It wasn’t like they were going to fall in love or anything.

“Wasn’t paradise to begin with,” Y/N said as he tossed the ball over to the dark haired boy to start receiving in between each other. “Pretty sure he still hates me a bit but that’s fine. I’m not really ready to fall in love yet.”

Noya only nodded before he smirked at the other. L/N always wanted to know what the other was thinking but never asked. He never asked questions about anything. Never saw a reason to.

“Do you remember the first words you said to me?” The second year asked and the h/c boy nodded.

“Pretty sure I was going to kick your ass or something.” Y/N received the ball with more force than normal. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Y/N caught the volleyball and stared at him. “I just find it weird that your soulmate is Tsukishima. It would make more sense if it were me.”

L/N wouldn’t necessarily agree. When he wasn’t having a crisis, he was more like Hinata but not to an extreme. He made more sarcastic remarks, quick comebacks, and genuinely happy the majority of the time. It was just that now he was using volleyball to avoid thoughts and feelings, just like he did back in junior high.

“Soulmates don’t work out how we want them to or how we feel like they should,” Y/N said, his mother had told him this when he said his was a boy. “We have to accept and let it all happen.”

“Yeah,” Noya said with eyes that showed he was trying to understand. “Let’s make people serve for us.”

Y/N nodded as he threw the ball over into the ball cart and followed his upperclassman. He wondered what his wrist said because he couldn’t see it through the orange sweatbands that covered both wrists. Was it embarrassing? Was he ashamed of it?

“Nishinoya-senpai, what are your words?” Y/N asked and the second year was getting used to being called the honorification, so the bright red face was now just pink blush on his cheeks.

“Doesn’t matter,” Noya said before he tackled Tanaka and the first year watched his upperclassman carefully.

L/N wanted to know why it didn’t matter but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t get an answer. Maybe it actually didn’t matter. Tsukishima and him being soulmates only mattered because they were on the same team and everyone had to deal with it. Hinata’s words only mattered because Y/N had been there to experience whenever the ginger received them. Sugawara’s words only mattered because he had told them to the first year.

Soulmate words didn’t matter just like soulmates didn’t. He started to hate soulmates again because everything was supposed to feel magical and perfect instead of whatever he currently felt. It didn’t make his heart race when he caught Tsukishima staring at him, instead it made him want to vomit. There weren’t moments where his face felt hot from the blonde. He didn’t yearn to be next to the middle blocker when they were apart.

L/N wasn’t in love with Tsukishima and decided that maybe they weren’t meant to be soulmates.

*****

Y/N had never been one to get sick. He had taken care of Shouyou when his friend got the flu and didn’t get it. He had never missed a day of school because he was sick. His mother had once said it was like he had a superhuman immune system. So, when he complained about being nauseated, his parents were slightly concerned.

“Have you been overworking yourself?” His mother asked as she made him some porridge. “I know it’s been stressful for you and handling the soulmate thing as well as not being a starter.”

“It hasn’t been announced yet who the starter is, we find out in two weeks. Remember golden week?” Y/N asked and his mother nodded. “I’m not going down without a fight, so of course I’m working hard.”

His mother put some of the porridge in front of him and he looked at it as if it would jump out at him. The smell wasn’t great but it also wasn’t bad. Hinata had always complained about the taste of it, so L/N was surprised when it wasn’t all that bad. He ate a little of it, his appetite still lacking, and was sent to bed.

Apparently it’s not allowed to practice if you don’t feel well. It was just another reason as to why the libero decided he would never get sick again. Sure, no one wanted to be sick but he really wanted to be at practice right now. He had started to get the hang of a rolling receive and Nishinoya was getting pissed over it. Y/N had reassured his upperclassman that he wouldn’t scream rolling thunder whenever he did it.

L/N wanted to be better than Noya or at least be proper competition because it was fun to bicker with him. He enjoyed having the second year as his friend and his crush faded slightly when he got to be around him to the extent he had been. They’d also be going up against Nekoma, a school he had heard about from some family that lived up in Tokyo as well as the new coach. Coach Ukai didn’t seem extremely qualified for the position but Y/N didn’t really care as long as he got to play somehow.

When he finally laid down, he felt the need to go to the bathroom. Hopefully, the porridge was just gross because was going to really refuse to be sick if he actually was. The race to the toilet was perfectly timed and he threw up not just the porridge but three white flower petals as well. He didn’t remember eating flowers. Was he really that sick to where he ate flowers?

He stared at the toilet bowl; the smell terrible but he couldn’t stop staring at those three white flower petals. Y/N heard his mother coming down the hall and he quickly wiped his mouth off with toilet paper and flushed the toilet. She looked at him so worried when she opened the door and he tried to reassure her he was okay; the porridge just didn’t sit well in his stomach.

She ordered him to go to bed immediately, even though he didn’t have a fever. L/N wasn’t tired and all he could think about was when he and Hinata walked to the three-on-three together. He remembered exactly what Hinata said, word for word.

“Y/N-chan, I know you don’t like that it’s a guy, but it doesn’t stop the fact that if you ignore it then you could get Hanahaki disease or Kirameki disease!”

L/N really thought that those things were myths. Only ever told to kids to scare them into making sure they love their soulmate. Those three petals said otherwise. He felt stupid now and wondered what he was going to do.

Hinata was right. You can get Hanahaki disease if don’t fall in love with your soulmate.

*****

L/N never had a fever, his appetite was just nearly nonexistent and he ended up getting a cough. He expected to throw up more but it was rare, which went against the symptoms he had seen online. If his mother was to look through his computer history, then she’d be concerned for his safety. He mainly looked at academic articles over it because he didn’t want to read fucked up fanfiction about celebrities having it.

A study had been done that if both soulmates didn’t like each other, Hanahaki wouldn’t happen. There was unrequited love when one loved the other but the feelings weren’t reciprocated. The only way to reverse it was to fall in love with your soulmate, which was shown to be easier than the libero thought it would be. That’s what statistics showed at least.

He was in stage one where only a couple petals appeared but not every time he coughed. He needed to avoid as many symptoms as possible. Symptoms for it could be coughing, vomiting, trouble breathing, fever, uncontrollable shaking, loss of appetite, low body temperature, and hallucinations. Y/N already had coughing, vomiting, and loss of appetite.

The first year was smart in how he planned to try to fall in love with Tsukishima. He started to sit next to him when he could and asked to walk home with him after practices. It was just that it wasn’t working the way he wanted it to. Kei (Tsukishima had told him to call him that) was actually funny when he wasn’t being a complete asshole.

He had even put his headphones on L/N and the libero learned that the middle blocker was into K-pop and J-pop. The two stopped in the middle of street because the h/c first year couldn’t stop laughing about it. Y/N looked up some of the groups the blonde had shown him and made vague comments about it during practice.

“Stop flirting,” Sugawara joked with a teasing smile. He was probably the most excited to see the two finally interacting in a way that wasn’t at each other’s throats.

“I can’t help it, have you seen him?” Y/N said and Kei chucked a ball at him in response, but the libero received it. “You can’t take me by surprise when it comes to volleyball.”

It felt like they were just childhood best friends and L/N had slammed his head into the wall next to the vending machine outside the court. Things between them had changed so much but he still struggled to form romantic feelings for the blonde. What was different between Takeshi and Noya compared to Tsukishima?

Takeshi had gotten into his face once. They were so close and he gripped his shirt as he screamed in L/N’s face to start acting like a libero. It was his first year and he was still new and clumsy with volleyball but the brunette didn’t care. Y/N got frustrated and stopped giving it his all but Takeshi didn’t allow it. Even though they had both been first years, the brunette was the only person to make Y/N get fired up to play.

Then he heard and saw Nishinoya play and it was almost like someone had lit a fire in him. He was antsy on the side of the court his first year and wanted to go against the other. Noya was stunning to begin with but his love for volleyball made him even better. L/N remembered when they had looked at each other through that net and he knew that everything just felt right.

“I hope you’re ready for me to kick your ass,” Y/N said to the other libero during warm-up. Nishinoya gave him a challenging look. “We’ll be going against Shiratorizawa.”

“Only way that’ll happen is if I give up.” Noya took a step closer to the other. “And I don’t do that.”

“Good because neither do I.”

Even though L/N’s team had lost in the end, he felt like he was on cloud 9. His love for volleyball was at an all-time high. His team was pissed at him for being so happy but Takeshi made the comment that it was rare to see two good liberos go against each other. It didn’t matter what it was but he felt like he was in love with Noya and volleyball.

Oh.

L/N realized that his crush on the two boys had started because of volleyball. The crushes grew when his love for volleyball grew. Their inspiration made him want to be better, love always did that though. He read about it.

Tsukishima hadn’t inspired him the other boys had. He showed no passion towards anything, especially not volleyball. That was why Y/N kept struggling to fall in love with him because there wasn’t an actual connection of a share interest. Sure, he could sing the lyrics to songs Kei loved but he didn’t love them himself.

There wasn’t a proper way for him to tell Kei that he didn’t love him, when the blonde obviously loved him, and it resulted in Hanahaki. He couldn’t demand for him to show passion for something he wasn’t passionate about. It was just that Y/N didn’t want to die. He wanted to play with Karasuno and go to nationals. He wanted to be in love with his soulmate.

If he told Tsukishima that, what would the blonde do?

*****

L/N had never been more excited for Golden Week because he loved practicing with his team. He loved practicing with Shouyou and how the ginger was so excited about everything. The h/c first year loved watching his friend run through the place they would be staying with wide starry eyes. Even though Hinata had inspired him to play volleyball, he never fell in love with him. Most likely because he had seen him as a brother for so long before that.

Kei placed his futon next to Y/N, which caused the two to be teased by Sugawara and Tanaka. Daichi shut them up and sent the two first years an apologetic expression. The middle blocker seemed more embarrassed than the libero, he moved his futon next to Yamaguchi’s instead. He didn’t like attention, yet everyone gave it to him, mostly girls.

“Do you not want to sleep next to me?” Y/N asked when no one else was around. “It’s okay if you don’t but ignore them if you do.”

“Do you want me to sleep next to you?” Kei asked as he took a drink from his water bottle. His expression was hard to read but the other knew it was because he was trying to feel out the situation.

He didn’t know if he wanted Tsukishima to sleep next to him. Part of him honestly didn’t care who slept next to who as long as everyone got to sleep and no one was bitchy in the morning. His old team had always been so bitchy in the mornings to the point he was told to stop being so cheery. All he had really done was say good morning during breakfast.

“I want you to be happy,” L/N said and he was sincere. “If it makes you happy to have your futon next to mine, then do so. I’ll deal with the others if I need to.”

Kei had a small smile on his face, the h/c first year nearly didn’t catch it. The blonde was pretty when he smiled but the effect would go away all together if he started to smile all the time. The barely noticeable smile stayed while he put his futon next to his soulmate’s but disappeared when it was no longer the two of them.

L/N smiled at him but there was a sadness to his smile. He still wasn’t in love with Tsukishima and he was to the point that he so desperately wanted to be.

*****

When Hinata ran off without the team, L/N and Sugawara were teamed up somehow. Tanaka said that Y/N and Tsukishima couldn’t go alone because they would get all lovey dovey. Tsukishima told them he didn’t want to look for Hinata and L/N said he was going to go look and would join someone if needed.

As he and Suga walked around, he started to feel a little sick to his stomach. The first year had grown used to this feeling but he was typically at home when it hit him. He really didn’t want to throw up his breakfast in front of his upperclassman, especially if there would be flower petals in it. Sometimes you don’t get to decide what you’re going to do.

L/N threw up on the side of the road and would’ve preferred a trash can but there wasn’t one around the two. Suga looked over at him concerned and the libero could hear him go to talk before he fell silent.

There was a fully formed flower in the midst of the vomit. A white candytuft, one of the more common Hanahaki flowers. It meant ‘indifference’ and usually given to those who had tried to ignore their feelings. He was getting worse and he knew it was because his efforts to fall in love weren’t working.

“How long?” Sugawara asked as he looked at Y/N. “How long has this been going on?”

“About two weeks. I’ve been leaving the gym to cough and the vomiting has happed maybe four times now. This is the first fully formed flower.”

“I thought you were in love with him,” Suga said and the first year closed his eyes.

“I want to be.” His voice soft and he felt he could cry. “I look at him and I want to be in love with him so bad but he’s not passionate about anything.”

Suga’s upset expression fell into a gentle one. He didn’t make an effort to move to comfort the other though.

“You’ve only ever been attracted to volleyball players, haven’t you?”

L/N looked up at him with tears running down his face. “Yes. They make me want to be better.”

“Are you still in love with Nishinoya?” The setter asked and the libero wanted to act like he had never been in love with the second year but they both knew that would be a lie. He had been just as obvious as Noya.

“No, I’m not in love with anyone.” He crouched down and put his face between his knees. “That’s the fucking problem. I’ve focused so much on trying to love Kei that I don’t even remember what feelings feel like anymore. How am I supposed to feel?”

“Your heart beats faster whenever you’re around them. You’re happy whenever they talk to you or you just see them.” Suga crouched down next to the other. “Life feels better when they’re around, even if it’s in mundane ways.”

“Those are all just soulmate things though,” L/N sniffled. “Everyone feels that for their soulmate.”

“What do you feel for Tsukishima?”

“I like being around him. He’s really fun to be around when he’s not as concerned with everything.”

The vice-captain placed a hand on the other’s back and it was comforting. Koushi’s touch didn’t feel like Kei’s and Y/N was happy about that. He wanted that to only be a Kei thing because he wanted something to only be a Kei thing.

“We’re going to figure something out,” Suga said and L/N started to cry harder because he knew they wouldn’t. “I promise that you’re going to be in love with your stick in the mud soulmate soon.”

“You can’t promise things like that,” L/N cried and Suga’s hand rubbed comforting circles on the other’s back. “You can’t get my hopes up.”

“Trust me, I always keep my promises.” He took his hand off the other’s back and stood up. “I’ll go find Hinata and we’ll come back around here. You can have a bit to yourself.”

Y/N nodded as he looked at the flower that stared at him from the grass. What would Tsukishima think when he learned the h/c boy’s flower meant indifference. The only way you got that flower was when you actively decided to no longer want your soulmate. There wasn’t much you could do to make yourself fall in love with someone past what he had done. Countless articles had said so.

He wanted there to be a universal thing that made soulmates fall in love. Typically just because they were soulmates did it but there were times this happened. He wondered if maybe he was aromantic but turns out their soulmates are strictly platonic and they’re matched with someone else who is aromantic. It also wouldn’t make sense because he had been so in love with Takeshi and Noya.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Someone asked and L/N had moved to sit somewhere that wasn’t the street. Tsukishima stood near him with a confused expression. “You’re not telling me that you got lost looking for Hinata.”

He called Shouyou Hinata whenever he was around L/N because the libero asked him to. Said it was fine to tease his best friend but he didn’t want to hear the teasing when it was just the two of them. Y/N had asked this with what Kei assumed to be fond eyes and the blonde couldn’t say no if he even tried.

“I don’t feel too great, so Sugawara went to look for Sho without me,” L/N said and realized he wasn’t lying when he said that. He still felt nauseated and like he needed to lie down.

“You kind of look like shit,” Kei said before he placed the back of his hand of the h/c forehead. “You’re a little warm but you don’t feel like you have a fever though.”

“I love when you say I look like shit; you really know how to woo a guy.”

Kei smiled at him slightly. “Just for you.”

It was moments like this when Y/N wanted to love him so bad. Moments where he wanted to reach out and just hold the other’s face between his hands and tell him all the reasons why he loved him.

“Do you love me?”

L/N didn’t mean to ask that. Maybe if he heard it, he’d love the other back. Maybe he just needed confirmation that he was allowed to love him.

“Of course I do, dumbass.” He took a step away from Y/N. “Why else would I come look for you?”

Because you’re my soulmate. Because you feel like you have to. Because everyone told you to. Not because you love me.

“Don’t know, thought you wanted to get more exercise in,” L/N teased and Kei rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get back to everyone, I don’t want to hear them go on about how long we were gone.” Tsukishima reached out a hand for the other to get down from the brick ledge better. It wasn’t even that tall but the gesture made the libero want to cry.

“Maybe they should have reason to tease us.”

Tsukishima ears went red, especially when the libero grabbed his hand.

“Shut up.”

“Aw, don’t be like that Kei,” Y/N pouted but they both knew he was only joking around. “I know you want me to talk always.”

As they walked back to the team, holding hands, Kei realized Y/N never said he loved him back.

*****

Tsukishima noticed more than he let people believe. It wasn’t like he suddenly knew someone just by observing but he could pick up tendencies people had. Tadashi’s ears turned red whenever he lied, which was rare. Hinata was livelier when he walked to practice with Y/N. Kageyama was always in a mood and the blonde started to think it was just the setter’s resting personality. Then there was Y/N and he couldn’t get a proper read on him.

Y/N always teased Kei when he thought was appropriate. After heavy moments, there was always something to make the blonde roll his eyes and get out of that atmosphere. He did it in front of everyone too. He made SHINee references more than the middle blocker wanted him to but at least no one else on the team knew what he was referring to. Y/N also called him Tsukki because he said he felt left out that Yamaguchi had a cute nickname for him but the h/c didn’t.

Tsukishima had grumbled and told him to call him whatever (he was then referred to as Optimus Prime) but he loved when the other called him Tsukki. He loved when Y/N did anything when he was near him because everything felt so easy. There was the argument that it was always felt that way with soulmates but the blonde refused to believe that. He wanted it to be special between them. It felt special to him at least.

L/N never told him that he loved him back though.

It had been eating away at him the couple days and it was finally the day of the Nekoma match. He was near Y/N, who had clenched fists as he glared at the floor. The h/c wasn’t made a starter and Noya had even fought with the coach about it. Said that Y/N could be used in the second set because he was just as good as the second year.

“Hey,” Tsukishima said and the L/N looked up at him with watery eyes. “It’s okay.”

That was the wrong thing to say and he blamed not being able to get a good enough read on the other. He blamed his soulmate for not being transparent with him.

“I understand that this is just some fucking club for you but it’s not for me!” Y/N screamed as he dug a finger into Kei’s sternum. “You don’t understand because you get to play while I don’t. I could’ve gone to Shiratorizawa and I don’t get to fucking play here.”

Usually, Tsukishima could get angry and throw sharp words at someone who acted like this towards him. He didn’t this time. He grabbed the other’s hand and just held it as everyone stared at them. Sugawara held back Noya, which was good because the blonde wouldn’t be as kind to the second year as he was to his soulmate. The feeling of the Nishinoya being a threat had went away when Y/N decided to start being around the blonde more. It went away when Kei felt like the other first year finally felt the effects of soulmates like he did.

“You’re right. I don’t understand and I probably never will.” Tsukishima paused when he noticed the h/c had started to cry. “You can scream and cry and do whatever but everything will still be the same.”

Y/N ripped his hand away before he wiped his eyes. Normally Tsukishima would find people pathetic for acting like this over some club but the boy in front of him was different. He was different because he was his soulmate and because he just loved him.

It was obvious though by the way L/N looked away from him and grumbled at the court again that he didn’t love him back. The realization made it crystal clear on how to read the libero. Everything the two had ever done together made sense now with how Y/N acted.

He was shy to touch and only allowed hand holding. Tsukishima had accidentally grabbed onto him one day when he tripped over something and the h/c refused to look at him for days after. He didn’t let anyone touch him unless it was Hinata but they were basically brothers. Any time that Kei had initiated something, there was tight smile on the other’s face as if he were being forced to deal with it.

Tsukishima had never walked him home because the other always said it was too far out of the way for him. Hinata had made comments of Y/N living the closest to Karasuno out of anyone on the team. The blonde had already known that was a lie and he assumed that maybe L/N’s parents were like his mother, who had tried to invite the libero to dinner the first time he had been walked home.

He watched as Y/N stormed out of the gym and Hinata follow after him, and he couldn’t get himself to move. A hand touched his shoulder and it was Sugawara, who looked as if he could see right through the blonde. Maybe he could but Kei did nothing in response to the third year. He stared straight ahead and tried to figure out what he was going to do with all these feelings.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Suga said and the blonde looked over at him. “You’re allowed to talk to him about it. I actually encourage you to because he most definitely won’t.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kei would just be cold hearted again and this wouldn’t bother him then. He knew though that the next time he saw the first year libero, he’d forget that. He’d just be happy to be next to him, even if he didn’t show it how most did. His affection was making a playlist of his favorite songs to show Y/N before he had even thought about letting him actually listen to him. His affection was keeping an extra hoodie in the club room in case the h/c complained about being cold. His affection was everything no one actually saw.

“Sure you don’t,” Sugawara said before he lowered his voice to a whisper. “And Y/N definitely doesn’t have a flower collection growing.”

Tsukishima froze in place as his upperclassman walked away. He didn’t move when Y/N came back with Hinata. He watched Noya tackle the first year and shower him in compliments. He couldn’t move because Y/N’s flower collection would be in his lungs and the blonde didn’t know what to do.

******

It was dark outside by the time everyone had returned to Karasuno High School. The h/c libero was still upset about the starting lineup and everyone knew. Him yelling at Tsukishima had been one of the lighter things he had done. There had been a fight with Coach Ukai where he had been threatened to be kicked off the team and Y/N told him to do it.

“There’s no point to volleyball if I can’t be a libero!” Y/N screamed and some of Nekoma stared at the sight.

“You’re still a libero, you’ll just play when rolling thunder kid can’t,” Ukai said and Takeda stood near them with a concerned expression. “It’s not that bad being on the bench.”

“It is though! I thought you played volleyball.” Y/N threw his hands up in the air. “This is fucking ridiculous because you’re pulling class rank on this when he and I can just switch out when needed!”

“Don’t speak to me like that!” Ukai yelled back and the libero stared him down. “I will kick you off this team.”

“Do it.”

Everyone stared at the two and Hinata later made a comment that he had never seen Y/N so serious. The h/c first year had a look that made everyone uneasy. It was almost as if he felt nothing and you were being forced to experience it.

“Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now,” Takeda said, finally stepping in. “No one is going to be leaving the team today.”

Y/N had been quiet the entire way home and gave no attention to anyone except for Noya, who he quickly hugged. When he walked over to Tsukishima, the blonde was surprised about it. He had assumed that since the other didn’t love him and was in a shit mood that it would make sense for them to not talk. L/N was more vibrant and vocal when he hadn’t just been threatened to be kicked off the team.

“You’re walking me home, let’s go,” Y/N said and Kei waved bye to Tadashi, who looked as confused as the blonde felt.

It was nice outside, even though the summer heat was nearly upon them, and Y/N didn’t talk like he normally did. He was silent in a way that made anxiety build up in the blonde’s chest. He could deal with a pissed off Y/N but he couldn’t deal with Y/N when he was pissed and possibly had Hanahaki.

“It’s so fucking ridiculous that he thinks he’s qualified to be a coach just because he used to play,” Y/N said and the blonde looked down at his soulmate, whose brows were furrowed together. “I just feel so useless to the team now, even after I spent my entire junior high dedicating myself to volleyball.”

He stopped in the road and look at Kei, who turned to look at him. It was weird to be standing like this. They never stopped on their walk home unless L/N started laughing so hard he couldn’t walk anymore.

“In junior high, I fell in love with a guy on my team and I used volleyball to try to get rid of those feelings.” Tsukishima just stared at him with no response. “I don’t love him anymore. I don’t.”

He was struggling to say what the blonde didn’t want to hear. He hated lying so much and hated being betrayed by those he trusted but he would be okay if Y/N lied to him forever if he didn’t have to hear it come out of his mouth.

“You don’t love me,” Tsukishima said and his voice was cold and the h/c nodded.

“I want to though. I want to so badly.” Y/N was sincere in his words and Tsukishima didn’t expect for him to lie now, so he knew he wasn’t. “Please show me some kind of passion.”

“What do you mean?” The blonde asked as he tilted his head and leaned more into the other’s space. “Why do I need to show you passion?”

“Because I can’t love you and will die if you don’t!”

Y/N’s expression was blank but somehow his eyes held more pain than Tsukishima wanted to see. He confirmed that he had Hanahaki in those words and the blonde didn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to pull some fake passion out of his ass? He couldn’t do that, even if he wanted to and he did.

“How long?”

“About two weeks.” Y/N looked down at his shoes. “Got my first entire flower the day Hinata got lost. Suga went on without me because I was sick.”

Tsukishima wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel the need to scream and throw things. Instead, he felt sad because he wasn’t sure on what there was to do. Explaining why he loved the other wouldn’t make him want him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to break your heart.” L/N’s voice was soft and weak. “I wanted to keep you happy for however long I possibly could.”

Tsukishima watched the other clench his fists before crying. It was pathetic but it made his heart hurt more than he wanted it to. Y/N let out a wet cough and white flower petals ended up in his hands. Sure, the blonde was in pain but it was obvious that the other was as well.

“I’ll just fall out of love with you since you can’t fall in love with me.”

He thought it was a good idea. They could just back to pissing the other off and he could stop caring about how close Nishinoya stood next to the first year. The way Y/N grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down said otherwise.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Y/N spat out as he glared the middle blocker dead on. “Once you fall in love with your soulmate, you’re in love with them. You’re forever destined to be in love with me.”

It wasn’t fair that the blonde didn’t get a choice in this. He deserved to get a choice in if he loved the other or not, especially if L/N had gotten that choice. It wasn’t fair that he thought the other looked beautiful with wet cheeks and snot dripping from his nose but the other didn’t see him the same.

“Why don’t you love me?” Tsukishima asked and his voice was calm, which differed from the volume in his head.

“You’ve never really shown passion.” Y/N let go of his shirt and pushed him back slightly. “You got into the 3-on-3 but you never showed anything more than that. Passion is different than not wanting to lose.”

Kei stared at him, surprised he remembered the 3-on-3. He was surprised the other actually paid attention because he had never made it seem like he remembered the little things Tsukishima did. He didn’t notice things like the blonde did; he didn’t want him. Kei’s brown eyes focused on the 5’6 libero as his fists clenched.

“I’m passionate about you!” Tsukishima screamed as he pointed at the h/c. “I’m so fucking in love with you that it hurts but you say I’m not passionate about anything.”

Y/N froze and Kei wanted him to do something. He was angry and he didn’t want to say everything he thought or felt because he didn’t do that kind of thing. He bottled everything up but he couldn’t do that with the other anymore.

“I text you to make sure you got home because I want to talk to you more, even if we talked the 30 minute walk to my house. I love when you laugh at my comments and when you try to impersonate a song when you obviously can’t sing for shit.”

L/N kept staring at him like he couldn’t breathe. I kept staring at him like he didn’t know how not to. The fact that there were no interjections made the middle blocker continue.

“I’m honest with you and I’m not like that with anyone. I don’t give two shits if it’s apparently some soulmate bullshit because to me it’s just a you and me thing. You make me feel safe enough to say what I want to.” He stepped closer to the libero. “You make me fucking happy with your stupid comments and how you try to fix your hair before class even though it looked just fine before you messed it all up to fix.”

L/N’s breath hitched when the blonde took another step closer and the h/c first year finally looked up to where the two were making eye contact now. Kei waited a moment for the other to say something but he didn’t. Y/N continued to just stare at him as if he still didn’t understand what was going on.

“I actually want to go to volleyball practice because I can see you play. You’re amazing when you’re not on the court but you change the moment you’re in the gym,” Tsukishima said and he noticed how the other took a step closer to him. “You make me want to be a better player; to be on your level. If I’m on your level, then I can actually play next to you like you’d want to.”

“Is this really how you feel?” Y/N asked, his eyes cutting through the blonde. “Or are you just saying in hopes that I won’t die.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Tsukishima looked down at the ground. “I also don’t want you to die.”

L/N threw his head back as he laughed. Kei stopped breathing for a second at the sight and sound. The 5’6 boy leaned forward into the blonde; his head landed on Kei’s chest as he continued to laugh slightly. Warmth spread throughout the blonde’s body and he refrained from wrapping his arms around the other.

“I hate you so much,” Y/N said in between small laughs. “You had to get pissed at me for not thinking you’re passionate for it to all finally click. You had to basically admit that I make you passionate.”

Kei wrapped his arms around the shorter male, who let out a deep sigh. They had never done this before and now it’s all the middle blocker wanted to do. He could basically hear their soulmate teacher saying that the effect of soulmates makes everything so much greater than it actually is.

“Can you do something for me?” Y/N asked as he pulled away enough for the blonde to look him in the eye.

“What?”

“Come closer,” Y/N said before he pulled the other down by the first and kissed him quick. “Thank you.”

Kei’s face was bright red and he couldn’t tell if the libero was flustered as well. He felt like both of them should be flustered and he moved down to the kiss the other again. It felt better than what he thought it would feel like. His mother had said the moment she kissed his father, all of those feelings were real and not just dreams. He felt the same right now, especially when the other looped his arms around his neck to keep him down.

“You’re in the middle of the street!” Sugawara screamed and Y/N pulled away with a laugh. “At least go home.”

“Do you guys always make out when walking home?” Hinata asked as he pulled his bike along and the h/c winked at the ginger, who shrieked.

“Of course, we don’t make out when we walk home,” Kei said and L/N pouted slightly. “He just happened to have jumped me.”

“I would never,” L/N gasped as he placed a hand over his heart. “How dare you accuse me of that?”

“Y/N-chan, I bet I can run down the hill faster than you,” Hinata said, bored of the conversation, as he put his bike down on the sidewalk.

“You’re on shorty!” Y/N exclaimed and the two started running.

“So, how is his flower garden?” Sugawara asked and Tsukishima jumped at the proximity of his upperclassman. “Did you kill it?”

“I think so,” he breathed out and the ash blonde nodded. “Unless he’s lying.”

They watched as Y/N tried to trip Hinata as they started to walk back up the hill. The two first year boys laughing, mainly L/N, and Hinata would scream a ‘not fair’ every couple of moments. It was the first time either of them had seen the h/c first year look so at ease in the month and a half of knowing him.

“I don’t think he’s lying,” Sugawara said.

L/N walked up to the blonde, beating Hinata back up to their stuff (even though he had technically lost by tripping the ginger five times), and beamed at him. His smile felt like sunlight on a cold day and his eyes were fully of warmth, something the 6’2” first year had never noticed before.

“I’m hungry, want to get something to eat?” Y/N asked as he grabbed the other’s hand and Tsukishima’s skin tingled. “It’s on me if you want to be cheap.”

Kei intertwined their fingers and nodded. “You’re totally free to pay for me.”

Y/N groaned and looked over at Sugawara, as if the third year would help him out. The ash blonde laughed slightly and looked over at Tsukishima.

“I think he wants you to pay,” Sugawara said and Kei looked down at his soulmate, who was pouting at him. “You don’t want to make him sad, do you?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said. “You don’t want to make me said, do you?”

Tsukishima sighed. The way the h/c looked at him was different and it made him want to do whatever the other wanted. He didn’t have a lot of money to spend but maybe he could spend all of it on his soulmate. He’d definitely do it if L/N kept looking at him with sparkling eyes and warm smile.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Pork buns!” Hinata exclaimed and Y/N started to laugh. The ginger was too cute for the libero to handle.

“I was thinking more of sushi,” Y/N said and then he looked at his best friend. “I was also thinking of it more as a date.”

Hinata’s eyes widened as he nodded and the libero laughed a little at him. He felt like he did before Takeshi and maybe the ginger would realize that. The decoy turned to the blonde and tried to give him a threatening look.

“If you hurt him, then I’ll have to kill you.”

“Shouyou!” YN exclaimed. “He’d beat you before you could even try.”

The two started to argue over how mean L/N was and e/c eyes met brown eyes, which made Kei look away. Y/N walked over and grabbed the other’s hand that he had dropped when he started arguing and smiled over at Hinata.

“As much as I love you, I really want sushi.”

He also really wanted to kiss Tsukishima some more because it was better than anyone had ever described it to be. He still felt warm all over and the other’s touch lingered on his skin but it didn’t feel like it used to. Kei’s hand was warm in his and he wanted to bring it up to his face to kiss.

“Come on, Hinata,” Sugawara said as he wrapped an arm around the ginger’s shoulders. “I’ll buy you some pork buns.”

When the two were gone, Y/N looked up at Tsukishima and grinned at him. He was going to get sushi for free. The other first year couldn’t back out of it now because he basically said he’d buy it.

“You ready to go, boyfriend?” L/N asked and brown eyes widened as they looked at him.

“Boyfriend?” Tsukishima asked and it was obvious the title affected him but he was attempting to make it not seem that way.

“Yeah,” Y/N said as he brought the middle blocker’s hand up to his face and leaned his cheek into the palm. “Is that okay?”

Tsukishima’s thumb caressed the skin and love swelled up in his chest. It had all hit him at once and it was so much more than he had ever felt for Takeshi and Noya, so he felt like he needed to make it happen. He needed to make sure that they were on the same page because he feared he would continue to have Hanahaki if they weren’t.

The soft and fond smile on the blonde’s face made Y/N lean into the touch. He wondered if they’d get to be affectionate like this more now. He hoped so.

“Of course, it’s okay, brat.” Tsukishima leaned down and kissed the crown of L/N’s head. The nickname held so much affection that the libero wanted to laugh. Only Kei would make an insult a pet name but it was okay. “It’s more than okay, you should know that.”

Y/N knew that but he had wanted to hear it nonetheless and it felt like he could finally breathe again.

Tag List

@chaoswrites @joyuyush

#haikyuu x male reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x male reader #tsukishima kei x reader #hanahaki disease #male reader #haikyuu male reader #sugwara #hinata shouyou #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader also Blaise Zabini x reader if you squint.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Blood, swears twice? Angsty (fluff ending)

Summary: Hanahaki Disease AU! You are despareatly in love with your bestfriend. His unrequainted love causes flowers to grow in your lungs which you are forced to cough up until death overcomes you. The only removal of this sickness is a spell which also takes every memory of the loved one with it.

A/n: look at my dumb ass post late for my own event... this fic is for the first week of Cliche Month. My cliche was Hanahaki Disease. Check out the other writers work. They are amazing!!

Roses used to be your favorite flower. Their delicate petals stained with glaring crimson intrigued you since you reached for one in your mother’s garden and pulled away with a bloodied hand. They could be found around you constantly; arranged in sparkling vases and patterned on your dresses. Bouquets were gifted to you by friends and family during holidays and birthdays, they surrounded you.

Now as you coughed into the toilet of the girl’s lavatory you wished to never see a rose again. You could feel the thorns tearing you apart, your throat sliced to ribbons as you clutched the stark white porcelain. You heaved a final time, petals falling into the clear water, the blood upon them staining it pink. You felt dizzy, copper thick in your mouth. You choked out a sob, tears spilling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. You brought your hand to your face, whipping your mouth with its back and blinking back a fresh wave of cries. You pushed yourself to your feet, knees sore from resting on cold tile too long. You flushed, watching as the red and white petals spiraled from view.

You stepped from the stall going to the mirror and dabbing away melting makeup, a few practice smiles at your reflection flashed before you exited the secluded room.

Hanahaki disease had been glorified around you for years. The aesthetic and purity of its cause and symptoms making it seem like some dream or fairytale. You had learned quite quickly it was anything but. While everyone talked of the beauty of growing flowers within you they never talked about the pain of thorns piercing you with every breath or the blood which lingered on your taste blood because of never-ending cuts and tears of skin. They never talked about the stab you felt each time the person you loved looked your way or the times you had to swallow petals to keep your quickening death a secret.

Blood and roses painted a pretty picture but they stopped being so charming as you choked them out every few hours.

You walked quickly to class, each step you took emitting pain in your chest, pain which you had gotten phenomenal at ignoring. Snape didn’t bat an eyelash, despite the fact that you were six minutes late. The stabs grew searing as you took a seat next to the scowling blonde who had unintentionally bloomed flowers in your chest.

“Where the hell were you?” Draco scoffed his tone cold.

“Bathroom.” You replied plainly, eyes tracing the slope of his nose as he turned away from you. Your eyes continued to follow his profile, creating trails on his jawline and under his light grey eyes.

Draco turned back to you, “Is there something on my face?”

You shook your head, feeling petals flutter in your stomach, thorns following.

He said nothing, eyes flicking around your profile, looking for clues of your strange behavior. “Are you sick?” He asked, “You look pale.”

You shook your head yet again, “I feel fine.” Lies came so easily recently.

Draco didn’t give in easily, his gaze searching your own as if he could read through your words to your failing heart. “You’ve seemed off recently,” he stated turning back to the lesson.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You replied. Lying really had become effortless.

Draco didn’t like your sudden disappearances and untrustworthy excuses. You had been distant and unfamiliar in recent days. Your schedule seemed skewed, jokes, and laughter seeming to die as you rushed to unexplained meetings with no one before reappearing thirty minutes later with blood on your sleeves. You always smelled of the liquid, copper had replaced your floral shampoo and tropical perfumes. Everything about you simply felt wrong, like an invisible switch had been flipped leaving you as an imposter.

You forced a thin smile at the girl across from you as she said her greetings. Pansy dug into her plate of eggs, glaring up at you suspiciously. Your relationship with the girl had always rested on the edge of a knife. She despised your relationship with Draco, her eyes going green whenever you were seen together. You wish you could tell her there was really nothing to worry about.

“You’re hiding something.” She satiated plainly.

You scrunched your nose in mock confusion, “What?”

A scoff rose from her lips, “I’m not stupid y/l/n. Something is up with you, everyone can see it.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You huffed rolling your eyes, hoping she didn’t notice the goosebumps that rose on your arms, fear of being discovered chilling you to the bone.

Blaise sat down next to you sensing the tense atmosphere and glancing between you both, “This about Draco?” He asked cautiously.

You shook your head quickly, a stab of agony shooting through you at his mention.

The boy shrugged, snatching a bagel and beginning to dress it with jam, “Anyway, you guys are coming to Hogsmeade right?”

Pansy answered excitedly her high pitch making you wish you’d stayed in bed. The conversation droned for a moment and you focused on your breathing. You knew the time which you would be able to do such a necessary act was limited. It was only a matter of time before thorns punctured a lung or pushed through your heart.

“You’re going right y/n?” Blaise asked, drawing you into the words spoken between them.

You bit your cheek, “I don’t think so.”

Blaise groaned, “Come on, we always go! It’s like a tradition.”

You frowned, “You didn’t go last week.”

The trap he had fallen into struck quickly, “Well doesn’t matter, you need to go.” he recovered.

“And why’s that?” You hummed nursing an orange juice that tasted of copper.

“Draco gets pissy when you don’t come.” He explained. The words would have made your heart soar if vines weren’t threaded through your veins. “Especially after quidditch practices.”

You sighed, “Draco isn’t my responsibi-” you were cut off by a spear thrust into your chest. The glass you held fell from your grip and shattered on the table. Eyes darted towards you in confusion as you bent over in agony.

A muffled voice broke through your momentary disconnection from the conscious world.

“Y/n are you okay?”

Your eyes fluttered open as you gasped for air, tears pooling in your eyes, “I’m fine.” you rasped standing quickly from your seat as you felt petals push up your throat. You sprint from the room without another word, hand clasping over your lips as you desperately tried to swallow the floral arrangement crawling up towards your lips. You managed to make it three corridors before collapsing to the ground, heads turned, eyes locking with you as let out a rattling set of coughs.

You didn’t hear the words of concern or cries for help as your mouth filled with blood. You felt something push from your mouth landing on your hands lightly. A rose blossom stared back at you as you opened your eyes. Its white petals unfurled stunningly, deep crimson puddles pooled between them. Red dripped lazily down your hands and you began to cough again. Thorns tore through your flesh escaping into the light of the world drenched in red, petals floated in the small puddle of blood around you like tiny boats in a lake of fire.

You hiccuped twice, the pain the action caused forcing tears down your cheeks. Your ears rang with shouts and gasps, your hands tightening around the flowers you held, only then noticing the cuts which littered your palms.

Blaise thundered around the corner, shoving people out of the way to see what they had gathered around. His eyes widened when he saw you, blood drenching the front of your uniform, tears mixing with crimson as they dripped off your chin. But the most alarming thing which sat in that hallway where the roses. Four of them, in full bloom, were littered around you, their meaning sinking terror into Blaise’s head. He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands coming to your shoulders.

“Shit y/n,” he mumbled feeling his eyes prick.

You were sobbing, wincing with every shake your body gave, “I can’t forget.” You whimpered, “Please, I don’t wanna die but I can’t forget him.” Your begs were cut off as you began to cough again.

You felt numb. The potions you had been given driving away not only pain but every other feeling your body had manifested. Moving felt like wading through thick mud, the weight of the blankets adding to the confusion of your nerves.

The ceiling of the hospital wing had become boring hours before, the dark of the night staining the white a deep blue. Your brain ran through memory after memory, thinking that if they replayed through your consciousness enough they would be stuck there, even after they were cut from your body with the flowers within you. You could hear his voice, smell his cologne, and feel his hair. The pain of your body had left but that of your mind had been so deeply engraved it was hard to distinguish from the former.

The ache you felt from the image of his angry tears and hoarse screams were far worse than the occasional stab of a thorn. Maybe it would be better to forget. Forget the pain, the love, all of it. To forget him. Yet every time you thought of the idea your eyes welled with tears and that unsettling ache of your chest worsened.

Memories became more and more recent as the melody of the platinum blonde continued to play. Those of a few hours ago were the freshest, still crisp around the edges, full of brilliant colors.

You didn't want him to find out, let alone find out from someone who wasn't you. Yet Blasie had told him the second after he had dropped you where you now lay, betraying everything within you.

He had come into the wing still dressed in his quidditch robes, broom in his left hand as he stormed through the previously quiet area.

"How dare you." He had seethed, broom hitting the ground with a clatter.

Your eyes had become focused solely on him the second his voice had graced you.

"How fucking DARE you!" His eyes were glossy with fury.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Pompfery shouted behind him

You were in a confused daze, dull pain shooting through you as Draco neared. "What?"

He was in front of you now tears sliding down his flushed cheeks as he gripped the metal of the bed frame.

"You can't just fall in love with me!" He shouted, "You can't just, j-just," his voice faltered and fell and he slumped forward.

You sat up wanting to move towards him, "I'm sorry." You whimpered a hand coming to rest on his own.

He snatched himself away from you, "You were just going to let yourself die?"

You paused another stab of pain dulled by medication sending white to your vision. Were you going to let yourself die? Die for the memories of this boy? It seemed a bit pitiful as you thought about it. "I don’t know."

Draco was appalled, his mind reeling as you stared up at him, eyes wide and glistening, "Don't put your blood on my hands." He hissed turning and storming from the room.

You called after him, voice straining, throat burning. He didn't spare a single glance back and you were left staring at his disregard broom as blossoms bubbled in your throat.

Draco had always had an easy way out when he was younger. His mother loved to spoil him and his father would keep him out of trouble with little effort. He had easy choices that were made for him. But recently things have been different. The expectations of his parents raised as he wanted to do nothing but flee from the life they had given him.

You had been safety for him. Your lack of questions and secret intent made you a safe haven. He didn't have to worry about your thoughts of him because he knew they were positive. He didn't have to be concerned with his reputation or his future or his family. He could just exist with you. Exist freely. The bonds which held him to the earth disappeared in your presence and he could float amongst the pink clouds which you lived.

You were his best friend. And now you were going to be ripped away from him. And there was no one to blame but himself. His unreturned feelings were killing you, this was all his fault. And now your memories would be pulled from you and you would become nothing more than a stranger.

It hurt to know you may have died for him. Died to keep him in your mind. It hurt to know all the blood you had spilled stained his palms.

The dorm rooms were darkened, the murky waters of the lake filtering soft moonlight through their depths. Sleep seemed like a faraway friend to Draco as he stared out at nothing. His thoughts were washed together like paint doused in water. A strange dream-like haze had rested over his life since he saw you on that bed. His thumb ran over the bumps of his knuckles, where your hand had rested hours before.

"You shouldn't have blamed her."

Draco didn't look up, his eyes locked into the dark waters, "I know."

Blaise sat down next to him, legs crossed, "You should apologize."

"I know."

There was a long pause. Neither boy knew what they were supposed to say.

Draco felt his eyes sting, resent bubbling in his stomach, and having nowhere to go, "I don't want to lose her."

Blaise sighed, "You are either going to have to lose her or love her. It's up to you."

But it wasn't up to him. He couldn't choose to love you.

The next day was unsure like a scene that was cut from a movie. Draco spent his time lingering in his hazy consciousness. The thoughts of losing you slowly driving him insane. His vision swam with your image in hallways, eyes falling through him. He would be a stranger to you. And he would have to keep it that way for your own safety. He would be forced to watch his best friend live her life without the memories they shared. The sting of realization grew with each moment.

Your pain had begun to fade. You weren't sure if it was because of the medication or if your body was simply shutting down. The latest you could get McGonagall to cast the spell was tomorrow night. Then every moment you and Draco had shared would be flushed away.

At least the coughing fits had stopped, thorns no longer tearing your throat to pieces. No more roses covered in blood. You felt a sense of peace.

Your far away mind was drawn back by Madam Pompfery's shrill voice.

"You may absolutely not visit her!"

"I just want to apologize!" Another tone retorted.

You sat up quickly, blankets shoved to the side as your bare feet made contact with the ground.

The argument grew louder as you neared, words turning harsh.

"Draco?" You called, peeking around the corner to see Madame Pomfrey standing with her back to you blocking the doorway, the blonde just in front of her.

"You should be in bed." The nurse scolded me, turning to look at you.

"I want to see him." You stated firmly.

She had now turned to face you fully, "Go back to bed y/l/n."

You glared back at the woman, "Let him in."

There was silence, you're gaze unwavering as the older woman slowly caved.

"Make it quick Malfoy."

You wanted to choke on the awkward silence that followed after the woman departed. Dracos eyes were glued to you as your own darted between your feet and the nearby wall.

“She’s right. You should be in bed.” he spoke.

You shrugged, “I was feeling better. The medication helps.”

“You shouldn’t be standing regardless.” He huffed walking past you towards the bed you had been in a few minutes before.

You rolled your eyes but followed him, knowing he was right didn’t make you feel any better.

“I'm sorry about before,” Draco mumbled as you set yourself against the headboard. You tilted your head in a silent question, “I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday. It's not your fault.”

You cracked a small smile, head tilting back until it hit the wall. “Of course it's my fault.”

Draco was silent and you gazed at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes were cast at his feet, the melancholy look on his face making you sour.

“Please don’t be sad.” You muttered, “I can't have my last memory of you be sad.”

Despite your plea, his eyes grew misty, the weight on his chest so heavy he thought it might crush him.

Your feet felt light and for a moment you thought you might be dying. Your head felt so clear, you wouldn't have been surprised if Draco started saying you were floating off your bed. Your chest felt warm and fuzzy, like hot chocolate after hours in the snow.

“I can’t lose you.” Draco sobbed, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “I can’t lose you, y/n. Please don’t leave me.”

Part of you wanted to slap him, “It's not a choice.” You swallowed thickly, “I didn’t choose to fall in love with you.” It was the truth. You didn’t choose to plunge into the deep waters of absolute devotion. You were pushed. Pushed by each smile and laugh. By each joke and eye roll. He had pushed you into the whirlpool of love and you had been sucked deep under. And now you couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t watch you forget me.” He croaked his head held in his hands, “I love you y/n, you can't become a stranger to me. I couldn’t watch you live without me. I couldn't live with these memories knowing you don't have them.”

Suddenly the lack of pain made sense. The light, fuzzy feeling overwhelming your body was comprehensible, “Say it again.”

Draco met your eyes, “What?”

“Say you love me again.”

His eyes widened, momentary surprise taking him before it was pushed aside by a rush of relief, “I love you.”

It was like a drug drawn from his lips, it burnt like whiskey down your throat, warmth filling you. You sat forward quickly, hands coming to cup his cheeks, damp and sticky with tears. Droplets of your own gathered, rivers of relief dripping off your chin.

Your lips met hastily. The taste of salt mixed with the bitterness of blood was unsavory but neither of you seemed to care as you pulled him closer. Kiss deepening as his hands fell to your waist. You found yourself sinking deeper into the water you had fallen into, oxygen suddenly filling your thirsting lungs.

You were unaware of the thorns that filled Blaise’s. Yellow petals spilled from his lips, his throat filled with blood. As you tucked your head into Draco's chest, his was buried into his hands, tears filling his eyes. He was hopeless, the thorns would tear him apart and you would put roses on his grave

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1

Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

seijorhi · 4 years

Text

The Fall

Somebody said Devil Kuroo and I have not recovered since. Anyway, enjoy my first offering for the Spooktober event!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader

TW Dub/non-con, blood, gore, minor character death, religious themes, nsfw, mild smut

It’s subtle, the shift in the air as two polished black shoes cross the threshold. The candles on the altar spit and sputter, and a shiver trickles down your spine.

You wonder if the humans scattered along the pews can sense it too, if they can taste the bitter, metallic tang in the air, feel the same prickling sensation at the nape of their necks as tiny hairs stand on end. The woman seated two rows in front of you stiffens, her breath catching between her sobbed prayers, but she doesn’t turn and neither do you.

Do they have any idea the evil that’s trespassing on holy ground? The danger that they’re all in - the danger that you’ve inadvertently brought upon them?

This is all your fault.

His footsteps, slow and measured echo mockingly throughout the nave, but you’re rooted in place. It’s instinctual, you think; the fear that sinks its claws into your heart, seeping into your veins like ice.

There is nowhere left for you to run.

You have no more aces hidden up your sleeves.

The wards that protected you, kept you safe and hidden for years are broken, and your friends-

Blood slicked floors, body parts strewn across your apartment. A howling scream pierces the air around you, and it takes a moment to realise that it belongs to you. You fall to your knees, bile rising in your throat as you stare in wide eyed horror at the grisly mess he’d left in his wake.

He could have killed them with a snap of his fingers, but he’d taken his time, hurt them, ripped the spines from their bodies slowly, keeping them alive as they screamed and begged through tears and snot and blood and vomit…

He’d left them for you to find like a gruesome homecoming gift. Punishment, you think, for daring to hide you from him.

It’s late, well past midnight. The only people in the crumbling, dilapidated church at this hour are those with nowhere else to go. Vagrants, the helpless, those lost to grief and addiction seeking the barest semblance of comfort amongst the burning incense, high ceilings and grimy, stained glass windows.

And you.

Though you suppose you fit into the former. Where else could hope to hide now that your sanctuary has been torn to pieces? This is the last place you’d choose to go, even now the long healed scars on your shoulder blades sting and burn, a painful and persistent reminder that you no longer belong amongst these hallowed halls.

Foolishly, you’d still come. Consecrated ground was supposed to protect you, however temporarily.

He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here, it’s not possible, but-

Dressed in a crisp black suit with a blood red tie, the handsome figure settles himself down on the pew beside you. A smirk curls at his lips as he stretches long legs, crossing his ankles and leisurely fixing the sleeves of his jacket as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

You don’t dare draw breath. Sitting stiff and ramrod straight, you stare at your trembling hands curled into fists on your lap, the ancient golden pendant lying broken in your palm. There’s dried blood smeared across the back of your hands, flecks and splatters hidden among the dark fabric of your skirt. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

His chin tilts, golden, cat-like pupils settling on you. You fight the urge to fidget, to flee, fingernails biting into the soft, delicate skin of your palm as he studies you.

“Hey, angel,” he purrs, his voice like warm honey. “It’s been a while.”

Finally you tear your eyes away from your lap, meeting his smirk with an icy glare. “Don’t call me that,” you snap bitterly.

He laughs, stretching back to drape his arm over the wooden backrest of the pew, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulders. “But I like calling you angel, and I’ve missed you.” The last part is growled, a low and rumbling timbre, too deep, too rich to be mistaken for anything close to human. It makes your hackles rise and your stomach clench uneasily. Unbidden, memories flash to your mind- his teeth at your neck, his sweat slicked body moving atop yours. Unbearable, searing heat flooding your core, large hands encircling yours to hold you down as his hips eagerly rut up against your ass, “Give into me, angel, you know you want to.”

His grin widens, and you know that it’s deliberate.

You don’t have the luxury of anger, not when the fear so visceral it threatens to choke you demands attention. He’s smiling amiably, but you’re not so naive as to believe that he’s not furious with you, that there won’t be punishments that await you for your escape.

One hundred and twenty years might pass in the blink of an eye for him, but it wouldn’t make a difference if it were only one, or even a single month, a day. You ran from him, and for every moment you were not at his side he would make you suffer - excruciating pain inflicted with pleasure until your mind broke and you couldn’t distinguish the two, until you were a babbling, beautiful mess begging for mercy.

Until you regretted ever even considering leaving his side after all that he’d done to keep you there.

He’d promised you as much a long time ago, hissing the threat into your ear as he forced you to ride his cock.

You’d fled anyway. And now, you’re trapped with nowhere left to run, and he knows it just as well as you do. But it’s not yourself that you’re scared for.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

Six innocent, oblivious humans dot the derelict pews, and the Father you’d watched tend to the burning candles and incense at the altar, meeting your stricken gaze for just a moment before returning to the task at hand.

It is for their sakes that you are afraid.

“A church, angel?” he sounds amused. “You know, I expected you to run after you found the dead witch and her partner, but here?” he tuts, shaking his head with a sigh. Pain, raw and visceral stabs at your heart and your shoulders shake with barely concealed anger, hands clenched so tight that blood seeps from the crescent shaped cuts in your palm. He eyes the gold pendant flecked with crimson in your grip, and for the first moment since he arrived, you watch that cavalier facade slip - a flicker of something dark and jealous twisting at his features. “They were the ones who kicked you out, don’t you remember? They ripped those lovely wings-”

“You tricked me, Kuroo! You lied!” the words spill from your tongue before you can hope to stop them. His golden eyes widen for a split second, surprised by your outburst, but it only lasts a moment before he’s smirking indulgently at you once more. Too late you realise your slip. The devil has a thousand names, but Kuroo was the one he gave when he first came to you.

You haven’t uttered that name in almost two hundred years.

“Did you think that the grace of God would protect you here, angel?” He slides closer, long, nimble fingers plucking the cross from your hands only to cast it aside. The faint metallic clinking as it falls and clatters across the marble floors makes you flinch, but he pays it no mind. “Did you truly believe that there is an ounce of anything holy left in this crumbling, decrepit shithole? And even if there were,” he pauses, leaning down to whisper in your ear as a warm palm slides up your thigh, “did you really think that would be enough to keep me from you?”

“K-Kuroo,” you gasp as he leans down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his mouth laving wet, hot, open mouthed kisses against the delicate skin there. His fingers delve under the hem of your skirt and it’s pure, unadulterated fear that hits you like a tidal wave, compelling you against your better instincts to claw at his wrist, halting him in his tracks.

He stills, warm breath fanning across your skin as he exhales sharply, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The flames from the candles on the altar sputter once more before they swell with frightening intensity, surging as the temperature in the chapel spikes.

“Angel,” he purrs lowly, the barest hint of an underlying threat lacing the endearment, and it feels as though there’s an invisible hand inside of your chest, clenching around your frantically beating heart. It’s a mistake, you know that even as his other hand reaches for your chin, gripping it tightly as he forces you to meet his molten gaze. “If you keep denying me what I want, I will raze this fucking church to the ground and let them all burn.”

This time you don’t so much as flinch when he tugs your panties to the side, rough fingertips brushing teasingly along your slit. “You’re going to let me defile you, sweet thing. You’re going to remember why you fell for me.”

His eyes are blown wide, dark pupils almost swallowing the gilded irises. Gone is the perfectly crafted human facade - this is the beast that lurks beneath, and you have run from him for long enough. Your heart hammers against your ribs, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, fighting back a shiver as he tracks the movement with predatory focus. You know as well as he does that the games are over, and you have lost.

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to run, but you cannot move.

His breath is ragged, a flush of pink dusting at his cheek as he stares at you, an unholy desire burning in those bottomless depths.

One beat passes, and then another-

He closes the gap between you two, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss isn’t sweet. It isn’t tender, but it sets you alight nonetheless. Without warning his fingers plunge into your plush, velvet walls and you gasp for him, clutching at his jacket sleeve.

“And when I take you, fuck you on these floors until you sing for me, angel, you’re going to love every second of it,” he snarls.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #Devil!Kuroo #supernatural AU #spooktober #tw non con #tw dub con #tw blood #tw gore #tw minor character death #religious themes #sacreligious #just a little #religious symbolism #slight smut #pls don't let this flop or i'll cry :)

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solomonish · 3 years

Text

things my heart used to know (solomon x reader)

You find yourself stuck in an unusual contraption with Solomon, where the only way out is to take a trip through his memories that he was not prepared to take.

Based on Once Upon a December

Ao3 link: here!

With a spectacular grunt, you rammed your shoulder against a suspicious spot in the wall, hoping that just maybe you could bring the whole wall down or convince someone to help you out or something. Chances of that were low: you and Solomon had been alone when the mysterious magical device activated, trapping you both inside. Trying to shove the more hopeless thoughts of never escaping away, you continued to push at the wall, as if one spot would give and open up to let the two of you out.

Solomon was behind you, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked the picture of calm, a small smile playing with the corners of his mouth as he listened to your struggle. When you looked at him with the intention of giving him a glare, you saw the dim light in the box had turned from white to gold. With a cocked eyebrow, you pushed away from the wall as you felt it morph from stone to something smoother. “What’s…”

“It’s deciding which form to take,” Solomon answered as if that told you anything. Met with silence, he chuckled and pushed himself off of the wall to make his way over to you. “We’re in a memory box.”

“A memory box?” Inadvertently, you stepped closer to him, only stopping when your arm brushed gently across his. The sensation of the walls changing beneath your hands put the horrible thought of your hands getting stuck in a partially-morphed wall, and you wanted to stick next to him in case that really did happen.

Clearly amused, Solomon looked down at you, the teasing smirk on his face making him look much more condescending than he normally did. “Yes. They require a strong magical energy to work, and typically only work once. They’re especially popular with those of us who...have a lot of memories to sift through, but they can be used by anyone. I’m surprised this one lasted so long without being used...”

As he talked, he walked forward, noting how you stuck close to his side and looked around nervously. The darkness was slowly dissipating and the focused light began to expand into a broader golden glow. The box transformed into a long hallway, the end opening into a room you couldn’t quite see into. Curiously, the walls around you started to shine, taking on their own gilded form. Intricate shapes were carved into the gold, reaching tall like palm trees. In front of each carving stood a gold pedestal, each with some artifact on it that looked to you like they belonged in a museum.

Finally pulling apart from his side, you ran your fingers over one of the trees. The walls seemed stable, thankfully. “You seem to know a lot about these memory boxes. Have you used one before? Oooh, or did you create them?”

He picked up a small statuette, his gaze darkening for a moment as he stared at it absently. “I...am familiar with how they work.”

He placed the statuette down with a solid clink, drawing your attention from the wall and stopping you from commenting about how utterly unhelpful his response was. Had you said something wrong? His footsteps were faster than before as he made his way down the hall, barely glancing at the walls as if he had seen them before. Well, actually, he probably had. As far as you were aware, you didn’t have an intricate temple in your memories, so this must be coming from him.

Scurrying after him, you followed him through the shadowed doorway and stepped into a room that was just as ornate but not at all connected to the hallway you were just in. While the hall looked like some temple from the first century, the ballroom-like space before you seemed much more recent, if not still at least a hundred years old. You were standing on a high landing, having emerged from an archway several feet taller than you. You weren’t an architect or archaeologist, but you could guess the style of the architecture was different. Maybe...more European? Of some sort? Cringing, you tried to push the image of your humanities professor scowling at you out of your head and slowed your own steps, choosing instead to look at the high ceilings around you.

“I’ve never seen a place like this before…” You murmured in awe. Though the room was dark and clearly abandoned, you still felt a still kind of magic around you, different from what you normally felt around Solomon. He was a few feet to your left, looking at a separate old artifact and standing before a table littered with them. If you squinted, you could see what looked like wings stretched across a long serving dish, the paint chipped and faded. You couldn’t tell if it was an angel or a bird - the pinched expression on Solomon’s face didn’t give you any clues, either. A chill settled in the room, but only you shuddered, suddenly realizing that you were an intruder in these unfamiliar rooms. The thought had you awkwardly kicking at the worn rugs beneath you, the threads dirty and torn yet somehow still looking expensive.

Without a word, Solomon dug around in the bag he was carrying with him, hastily looking for something. You watched him drop it unceremoniously on the ground, bringing up a cloud of dirt around it. In his hand was the notebook he used to teach you different runes, a faint glow coming from the page following the stroke of his pen. The sound of the page being ripped from the binding seemed to fill the room, followed by his steady footsteps as he made his way to the grand staircase. You watched him go, only turning your head so as not to draw his attention.

After he passed, you cautiously sauntered over to the table Solomon was standing at, stooping to pick up the bag he left behind. Slinging the long strap across your chest, you picked up a bear figurine gilded in chipping gold, turning it so that it caught the light. All of the figures before you seemed to be masterful pieces of craftsmanship, regal things to be envied yet somehow seeming personal. You were almost afraid to touch them for fear of offending the unknown owner.

Your hand fell to your side, bumping a cool metal box on the way and nearly knocking it off the table. Thankfully, you caught it and brought it to your face. Opening up the small lid to reveal another bear, this one standing up as if dancing one half of the tango, you gently turned it around to find the crank. It was old and a bit rusty, but still you turned it gently once, twice, three times until you could feel the springs coiled so tightly they might break. For a moment, you held your breath, then -

Nothing. No sound came out of the box.

"Hmph. That's a shame," You murmured, tapping the side gently with your finger. Unsurprisingly, that didn't work and you set the box down on the table again. Turning over your shoulder, you called out, "So, what is this pl- ack!"

Just as you turned, a small display of glitter resembling fireworks shot out from Solomon's hand, the shimmering ash eating away at the paper that hovered in midair. Your shout of surprise didn't stir him, his back rigid and still facing you.. The quiet fizzle that caught you off guard became a visible stream of magic curling around him and you before spreading to the far corners of the room.

You watched as the shadows were pushed into the walls before entirely disappearing, the magic gilding the ballroom and mending the disrepair it had fallen into. Tapestries unfurled to hang on the wall as the vibrancy of the old portraits returned. Overhead, empty arches found themselves holding large, crystalline chandeliers that bathed the room in a welcoming glow. Behind you, the music box started playing, the tune sounding like a full orchestra even if you knew it should only be a dissonant metallic tin. The extravagance caught your breath, nearly distracting you from the way the paintings began to shift and colors bled together.

With another wave of his hand, Solomon drew figures from the painting, hundreds spilling out as if a day had been broken. A few emerged from the floor, entering the ballroom the same way one would step out of a lake and onto the shore. Some of the figures wire masks, hiding their identity with the facade of thespian comedy. Others came as they were, wearing the same face in a variety of expressions. Despite the period clothing and many different hairstyles, the face was eerily familiar.

You watched ghoulish duplicates of Solomon traipse around the floor or mingle, talking to invisible counterparts animatedly. The figures that were not identical were faceless, aside from the occasional partner that seemed to exist in greater detail than any version of Solomon. The figures never stepped a foot on the staircase that was now covered in a rich red carpet - somehow, they were completely unaware of your presence yet seemed to know and respect that you and your Solomon lived in reality. They were citizens of the mindscape, figments of the past, and the barrier between what is and what was should not have been breached.

So caught up in your shock were you that you failed to notice Solomon head down the stairs, as if in a trance, and breach that barrier.

Once you saw him slipping between the ghostly figures, expertly sidestepping them as if he had studied their waltz for years, you called out to him. But he did not answer, too focused on the people milling around him. Maybe your voice was drowned out by the faux chorus around you. With a huff, you gripped the strap across your chest and followed him, walking down the stairs so quickly you almost tripped.

The moment you reached the foot of the stairs, you felt as though you had stepped into a bubble. With a close eye on the figures around you, you picked your way through the crowd with significantly less grace than Solomon. You never lost sight of him in his dark clothes, the dancers only distorting his image as if you were looking through water or a warped mirror as they passed in front of your line of sight. One pair accidentally passed through you, sending a harsh arctic chill down your spine. You watched that Solomon, his hair slightly neater and sporting a ridiculous frilly neck accessory you might have made fun of under different circumstances, pay no mind to you and instead look down at his companion. His expression was mischievous, scheming, but the woman he was dancing with had a face of static, barring you from reading her reaction.

Clutching tighter to the bag strap, you hastened your pace and tried to maneuver through the spirits, occasionally brushing your elbow or hip through the people around you. Each time it sent a different shiver through you, some icy while others were warm and tingled your skin. Surrounded by phantom Solomons only made you more eager to find your place next to the real one again, but the static shock you got from passing through the hurdles made you all the more careful in your steps. Who knew finding your way through a crowd you could walk right through would be harder than finding your way through a collection of solid bodies?

Near the center of the room, you found yourself in an open area with Solomon, your Solomon, standing in the middle. It seemed the translucent versions of himself knew to steer clear of him. You watched, standing just on the edge of where the crowd seemed to circle around him, watching as he took in his surroundings. Then, slowly, Solomon turned to you as if realizing for the first time that you were there.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing could come out. All your words tangled together, the confusion only growing when Solomon reached a hand out to you, palm up. The gaze he held you in was unfocused, his expression the closest to unkind you had ever seen. Even if there were no right decisions, rejecting his offer to dance seemed like the absolute wrong one. With the same timid air as a schoolgirl at her first dance, you placed your hand in his. For a moment, you felt vulnerable as you untucked your arms from your chest, only to feel at ease once Solomon pulled you in. His hand fell to your waist with a practiced ease. If he had been focused, maybe you would've felt butterflies swarming in your stomach, or maybe you would've laughed nervously. His far away gaze kept the joy down, and instead you pressed your lips in a tight line, watching him closely and allowing him to take the lead.

He fell into step with his doppelgangers, directing you through a path of the specters with the firm hand on your waist. Your time at Diavolo's party helped a little, but back then you hadn't been so worried about your partner. (Well, aside from the time Lucifer asked to dance with you only to threaten you - but then you were more worried about what your partner would do to you and not his emotional wellbeing.) It was all you could do to avoid stumbling over your own feet, barely missing his ties with your heavy steps.

"Solomon…" You breathed out, noticing how his gaze stuck to the spirits for a moment too long before turning to you. Your questions died in your throat - Are you okay? What's happening? What memory is this? How do we get out of here? - but he could read your expression clear as day, even with his mind preoccupied.

"These are all memories of me," He explained, leading you into a turn and arely avoiding one of his copies. "I didn't have a specific memory in mind when we activated the box, so...perhaps it just started to play all of them in one."

"So you've been here before?" You asked, astonished.

"It's...familiar. I've been to lots of places. It's hard to tell."

A pair of dancers blew through you, sending a spark down both of your spines. You turned your head to see a version of Solomon look both ways, checking for onlookers that were nowhere to be found, before tenderly reaching towards the face of the man beside him. Before they could meet, Solomon turned you so his body was between you and the romantic scene, but you were able to catch a glimpse of the man's face. It was completely smooth, like an unchisled head to a statue.

Solomon didn't make eye contact with you, a faint blush painting his cheeks. You squeezed his hand in the only reassurance you could give. "I don't mean to pry."

There was no answer, and you couldn't blame him. Even if you hadn't meant to peer into his memories, you were witnessing versions of himself he didn't tell you about, versions of himself he might not even remember. You didn't know if he was dancing with you to angle you away from the things he didn't want to see or just to keep you close, but the fact that you were even around to be swept up in the sea of Solomons was too personal for him to dwell on.

With an almost imperceptible tilt of his head, Solomon's attention was grabbed by someone on the other end of the room. His grip on your hand tightened and he tucked you slightly closer to himself, spinning you in order to turn your course. You couldn't keep up with his faster footwork, nearly tumbling to the ground and only saved by his firm grasp. Solomon wasn't paying attention to you, though; his focus was on whoever he was pursuing, his turns tight as he guided you into a small circle around the room.

The fast turns were making you dizzy, unexpectedly jostling you every time his target moved from his sight. Feebly, you used the hand resting on his shoulder to push him gently away, asking him to stop. The more he spun, the harder you pushed, occasionally asking him to slow down. He wasn't hurting you, but you were hoping that if you could get his attention he might stop. The figures around you were whirling, spinning, disorienting you - was that how dizzy and overwhelmed he felt every day, or just now?

Without warning, the figures around you stretched an arm out as their partners spun away from them, their fingers barely brushing past each other as they disappeared into thin air. As the remain figures turned to fade into their own memories, Solomon did the same to you. You tried to keep your hands connected, hoping maybe if you kept your fingertips on his he could you bring you back to him bring his thoughts with you. That didn't happen, and you felt your fingertips drag across his palm as you stumbled backwards.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you huffed and looked around. It was just you and Solomon in the room again, the Golden facade having faded back into the dim, abandoned ballroom from before. Solomon was staring at a blank space a few feet from the wall, his face scrunched as if watching the world rip something from him. Perhaps he was; perhaps he was watching one of the few faces he could remember beside his own, maybe one of the ones he loved, fade away from his grasp again.

This wasn't about you - clearly, none of the memories were for you to see - but you felt a creeping loneliness settling around you. Solomon was not only lost in his own world, but in hundreds of his own worlds, where details blurred and recognizable friendly faces were a luxury. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you noticed that the music box was now playing music, the kind you'd expect from such a dainty trinket. Now, the sound seemed hollow and eerie, far from how charming you thought it would be before.

Hesitantly, you took one step towards him as the song dwindled to a stop, but the click of your shoe echoed far too aggressively in the room. The walls were slowly returning to the non-descript box you were in before, but Solomon wasn't moving from his spot. The memories would always be swirling around in his head, you supposed. He had to take his time to bridge the gap between you - even if to you, it seemed insurmountable and ever-growing.

#this is my birthday gift to myself hehe #might write a part 2 later idk #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon x reader #solomon #solomon fics #solomon angst #solomon x reader

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the-river-person · 3 years

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Secrets of the Deltarune

Okay so I was taking a closer look at the Deltarune and I started to notice some really weird things. It’s a symbol for the Kingdom of Monsters, right? Wrong. Gerson tells us “That's the Delta Rune, the emblem of our kingdom.The Kingdom...Of Monsters.” Okay so its the same thing, right? Nope. I looked up emblem and its distinction from Symbol. A Symbol represents an idea, a process, or a physical entity. While an Emblem is often an abstract that represents a concept like a moral truth or an allegory. And when it is used for a person, it is usually a King, a saint, or even a deity. An emblem crystallizes in concrete, visual terms some abstraction: a deity, a tribe or nation, or a virtue or vice and can be worn as an identifier if worn as say a patch or on clothing or armor or carried on a flag or banner or shield. So what does it matter? Well Gerson even tells us why. “That emblem actually predates written history.The original meaning has been lost to time...“ Hold up. Predates written history? The beginning of written history is approximately 5500 years ago. Somewhere around 3400 B.C.E. Thats a long time. And the prophecy that goes with the symbol talks about the Underground going empty, so it can only really be as old as The War Between Humans and Monsters. But...when was that? The game doesn’t tell us the exact dates. Well we have a couple clues. At the beginning of the game we have a little cut-scene of the war and then a bit where we see a human going up the mountain only to fall down into the Underground. Most players assume that this is you, beginning your adventure. Except its not. Later in the game, when you SAVE Asriel in the True Pacifist Route, we’re shown another cutscene with the exact same human figure in EXACTLY the same position, being helped by a very young Asriel and the silhouette of Toriel. It’s Chara, not Frisk. So our date of 201X (2010-2019) takes place long before Frisk even arrives. We don’t know how long before. That really doesn’t help with when they were first thrown down there though. So I took a look at the images before that, of the war. The first image shows a human who is very different from the later pictures. Both the make of the spear and the animal hide-like clothing suggest that it’s probably stone age. The text tells us a very general “Long Ago”when describing how both races ruled the earth together. In the next two images we’re shown the actual war. The crowd of humans have various things like torches and spears. Those diamond type spears are very similar to Roman Pilums. The Human figure with a sword was interesting though. He bore a mantle (cape or cloak) and is sporting a sword. Though there’s not much detail, we can still identify the general time period of the sword. The size isn’t big enough for a proper claymore or longsword, or even a hand and half sword. Since our figure appears to be moving forward, and we can guess that it’s not in a friendly manner given the context, yet still holding the sword in one hand instead of two, it’s probably a one handed broadsword. It also has a cruciform hilt (cross-shaped) that is slightly curved. The blade is quite wide with what appears to be straight edges (based on two images with limited detail). And it has a very narrow Ricasso, an unsharpened length of blade just above the guard or handle. Ricassos were used all throughout history, but they’re pretty notable for the Early Medieval Period in Europe. And the rest of the sword (blade type, length, crossguard, and method of use) is very reminiscent of a Medieval Knightly Arming Sword, the prominent type of sword in that period from the 10th to 13th centuries. So I had to take a closer look at my spears. Turns out, they actually more closely resemble a medieval cavalry lance or javelin. And many Javelins have their root in the style of the Roman Pilums, including the sometimes diamond shaped tips. The sword and mantle of the figure suggest heavily he’s a knight, and backed up by the spear carriers we can guess that its the Early Medieval Period, possibly the beginning of the Romanesque Period. So that would place us all roughly a thousand and at least ten years before Chara fell into the Underground in 201X. Asgore was certainly alive back then. In the Genocide Route Gerson says “Long ago, ASGORE and I agreed that escaping would be pointless...Since once we left, humans would just kill us.“ and in the Post-Pacifist when you go back to talk to everyone he’ll say this when talking about Undyne “I used to be a hero myself, back in the old days. Gerson, the Hammer of Justice.” He even talks about how Undyne would follow him around when he was beating up bad guys, and try to help, by enthusiastically attacking people at random such as the mailman. This tells us that Gerson and Asgore are as old as the original war and both had been part of the battle. And both lived long enough to survive till now. Gerson is quite old looking, while Asgore is not. He explains this by saying that Boss Monsters don’t age unless they have children and then they age as their children grow, otherwise they’ll be the same age forever. But Undyne doesn’t appear to be old. And I started to wonder how long normal monsters lived in comparison to Boss Monsters. A long time for sure. From the Undertale 5th Anniversary Alarm Clock Dialogue we can learn that Asgore once knew a character called Rudy (who also appears in the Deltarune Game), who he met at Hotland University and appeared to be generally the same age as Asgore. Since it takes place in Hotland we know that it was already when they were underground, Asgore was King and was already doing his Santa Clause thing, and that Asgore was trying to find ways to occupy his time aside from actually Ruling. In the dialogue he tells us that Rudy began to look older than him. “I was there for it all. His Youth, his Marriage, his Fatherhood. Then, suddenly, one day... he fell down. ... Rudy... I... was never able to show you the sun.” Monsters can live a long time. But Boss Monsters, as long as they don’t have a child, can live nearly forever as long as they aren’t killed. Based on that, Undyne is probably quite young and Gerson is incredibly old even for a Monster, and yet only recently he’s stopped charging around fighting bad guys. Since Undyne was with him, those bad guys were in the Underground, and his distinction of her attacking not so bad folk like the mailman, means that he was probably in an official capacity to fight crime, such as a guardsman, or maybe captain of the royal guard. So. Even though there’s plenty of time for a prophecy to spring up naturally. We have a number of Monsters who have actually lived that long that would be more than happy to correct mistakes and assumptions. Gerson is quite elderly and is a tad forgetful, but he still knows much. Characters such as Toriel and Asgore are still hale and hearty, and both had witnessed so much. Though we know very little about the character, Elder Puzzler is also implied to be quite aged and knows a great deal about the “Puzzling Roots” of Monster History. You’re probably wondering what all of this is leading to. Well with these characters in place to maintain knowledge of history in the populace, then we have an Underground which created a prophecy AFTER it was trapped there, which leads me to conclude that when the prophecy was created, it must have been referencing something older than the War of Monsters and Humans.

“The original meaning has been lost to time... All we know is that the triangles symbolize us monsters below, and the winged circle above symbolizes... Somethin' else. Most people say it's the 'angel,' from the prophecy...” ‘Angel’. This is when we hear about the angel. We see the Deltarune on Toriel’s clothing and on the Ruins door. As well as behind Gerson himself. The thing he mentions clearly has wings of some kind. Surrounding a ball (note to self: Look into possible connection between mythical ball artifact from the piano room and the Deltarune Emblem). It looks a little like the fairy from the Zelda series. Those “triangles” are the greek letter Delta. That letter has a lot of connections and meanings to it. A river delta is shaped like the letter which is how it got its name. There are a number of maths and science connections. But the two connections you’d be interested in are that a Delta chord is another name for a Major Seventh Chord in music. The soundtrack of Undertale uses these chords to do fantastic things with the tone and aesthetic of its leitmotifs, changing them from a happy or hopeful tune, to a dark and despairing one without actually changing the melody. And in a subfield of Set Theory, a branch of mathematics and philosophical logic, it is used to calculate and examines the conditions under which one or the other player of a game has a winning strategy, and the consequences of the existence of such strategies. The games studied in set theory are usually Gale–Stewart games—two-player games of perfect information (each player, when making any decision, is perfectly informed of all the events that have previously occurred, including the "initialization event" of the game (e.g. the starting hands of each player in a card game)) in which the players make an infinite sequence of moves and there are no draws. But why is one of them turned upside down? I started looking things up again. Turns out there is such a symbol. The Nabla symbol is the Greek Letter Delta only inverted so that it appears upside down. Its name comes from the Phoenician harp shape, though its also called the “Del”. A musical connection is exactly what Toby would do. But its main use is in mathematics, where it is a mathematical notation to represent three different operators which make equations infinitely easier to write. These equations are all concerned with what is called Physical Mathematics. That is... Mathematics that calculate and have to do with measuring the physical world. Why is that relevant? Well the difference between humans and monsters is that humans have physical bodies while monsters are made primarily of magic. Well I also discovered that the Delta symbol for the ancient Greeks was sometimes used to as an abbreviation for the word δύση , which meant the West in the compass points. West, westerly, sunset, twilight, nightfall, dusk, darkness, decline, end of a day. All this symbolism for a couple of triangles. There’s entire books devoted to them. And he calls the whole symbol, deltas and angel alike, the Delta RUNE. Whats a rune? Well a rune is a letter, but specifically a letter from the writing of one of the Germanic Languages before the adoption of the Latin alphabet. Interestingly... the Greek Letter Delta does NOT qualify as a Rune. In any stretch of the word. I searched for hours. What I DID find was the etymological origins of the word Rune. It comes from a Proto-Germanic word “rūnō“ which means something along the lines of “whisper, mystery, secret, secret conversation, letter”. Interesting. So since its paired up with the Delta... it could be taken to mean “The Secret of the Delta” or “The Delta’s Secret”. If we make a few assumptions we might even get something like “The Secret of the West” or “The Mystery of the Twilight” or numerous other variations that have different connotations. It’s conjecture, certainly, and possibly a few stretches. But it is certainly there to think about. My thoughts centered around the positioning of the letters. The idea that the one facing up represented Humanity, and the two ordinary Deltas were Monsters. With the Angel above them all. Or rather, SOMETHING above them all. We have no proof that the idea of an Angel existed before the Underground’s prophecy. I like to think it did because usually that sort of thing draws on previously existing beliefs and ideas. For all we know the symbol could represent an abstract idea that governed both monsters and humans. Like “Kill or be killed” or “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you” or other basic idiomatic ideologies of that sort. Other than the realization that the Deltarune is older than the prophecy and the Underground, I didn’t have a concrete idea of what the Emblem actually means. Just a lot of theories and connective ideas. But there’s certainly a lot to be found. I don’t really know how much thought Toby actually put into this, but he’s quite well known for secrets within secrets. So its possible he knew all this going in. If he’s anything like me, and I am notorious for writing this sort of twisting references within references within references into my stories, then he’s probably at least aware of an existing connection. Its quite probably that the Deltarune is exactly what Gerson tells us. An emblematic set of symbols that is used to represent the continuing Kingdom of Monsters and has been since before written history. But as he says... its so old that it might have had a different meaning originally, whatever idea the Monsters wanted to remember, wanted to uphold enough to use it for their royal family and their kingdom, a reminder. Of something, or someone.

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downywrites · 3 years

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Hello, bird is getting to everyone’s requests. Please hang on, your items will be delivered asap.

Enjoy this little drabble, beans! Love you all! /p

Ranboo(Lethe) gets a back massage from Nikki(Nemesis).

Nikki was very used to helping people when they needed it, regardless of whether or not they asked for her help or not. The smiles that lit up their face made the toil worth it, no matter how small or fleeting that smile was. She loved the feeling of love. Soft, warm, fluffy like the soft curves of her famous loaves of sweet bread. .But love was fleeting. Change was imminent. Soon, her soft, warm bread went from something akin to a gift to the people to something the people expected of her. The love she so desperately seeked drained from the place. She felt lonely in the crowd, a source of love that seemed to be infinite to the people who so desperately craved it. Soon, her love ran dry. She wasted away, feeling less and less whole every day. She lashed out, hurt people she didn’t want to hurt, made people cry when all she wanted was to make people’s tears run dry. All she ever wanted was love, full, mutual, trusting love. But there was none where she searched. All of her ventures left her beaten and broken, forcing her to return to the land where bombs and bows were the norm, not the exception. Where swords were drawn over the slightest encroaching of anyone’s boundaries. Where blood moistened the ground more than pure, fresh water. She was tired of it.

So she left.

She cast aside her name during the bloodshed she was forced to cause, forced to enable, in order to end the never ending cycle that the people followed. She cast aside the memories, the thoughts of love and warmth and cookies, for the sake of the iron tang of blood and victory, the feeling of accomplishment and rush she felt when she rode into battle. She cast aside her old baker’s apron for one that she washed nightly to rid it of the tears and blood of her enemies.

She rose again from the ashes of the baker’s oven, wings of fire and fury glowing like hot coals rebirthed sprouting from her back. In her ex-friend’s eyes, she was a monster. She was terrifying, something too wild to tame and too strong and smart to fool. But, to her allies, she was a powerful creature, a person so strong, she could fell an entire army with a single sword and a burning, all consuming rage.

That didn’t mean she didn’t remember her past, though.

She sat on the windowsill of the stronghold they had been calling their home, wind whistling by her ear as she stared at the twinkling, shimmering stars. Her teammates had built in above and below ground, making sure that the area was fully protected from any attacks made by the enemy groups of the government. Her gossamer cape flowed behind her, sunset-orange and beautiful against the dark clothes she wore to blend in with the environment, at least a little. She adjusted her glasses to look closer at a certain cluster, before penning down a general shape in a small notebook beside her. The wind played with her hair and the pages of the notebook, making her clutch the pages tightly as particularly strong breezes racked the area. Her bleached hair fluttered slightly into her face, making her shift her face to the side a little. She huffed in slight annoyance at the disruption in her work, but continued to map out a general shape of the stars. Nibbling at the end of the quill, she dipped its tip into a well of blood red ink, careful not to get any on the stones. No need to make Techno lose any sleep. Nikki heard the sound of claws scraping against the hewn stone bricks, tensing up instinctually. The footsteps stopped almost immediately, giving her good reason to think of a few specific people up at such an ungodly time.

“Hmm, is that Ranboo or Techno up at this time? I don’t think any other hybrids would be up so late- er, so early.” She patted the side of the area not covered by her parchment and work. “Take a seat, dear. Star-gazing can help take your mind off of things.” A enderspeak-warbled voice echoed behind her. “I would, but...my muscles hurt a lot, and...I guess it kept me up?” Ah, Ranboo. He didn’t seem like much to most people, but the Syndicate saw his worth the second the man teleported in and out of one of the most respected facilities and grabbed Dream’s mask from the top of the pedestal, all without tripping off a single trap. (Granted, he forgot why he needed it in the first place, and tried to keep it for himself due to his confusion with the object once he came back. They still counted it as a win.) Even then, Ranboo was not a threat, no matter how hard he tried.

Nikki sighed, soft voice hinting a slight smile. “Oh? Muscles are hurting? Now that’s a first.” She turned around, looking into the shadows to look for the slightest bit of off-white. A shift in the left side of her eyes made her focus on the spot, trying to see the enderman through the inky blackness without making him startle. Ranboo immediately backtracked. “D-don’t worry about me, though. It’s not your problem- I’m so sorry for intruding on your peace, I’ll just see myself out.” He backed away, slowly losing his shape in the shadows. “Wait, Lethe.”

Ranboo went stock still in the depths of the darkness. “I can give you a massage. I used to do that for people back in L’manberg! Besides, I needed to stop focusing on those silly clumps for a tiny bit, anyways.” She swung her legs onto the floor, scuffing her shoes on the cold, icy ground. She winced at the change in temperature, already wishing for the semi-warm winds of the nearby desert again, but she ignored the nagging wish in favor of flicking the nearest lever to her person. The lights flickered on, casting the whole hallway in a burst of warm, soft lighting, Even though the lights were relatively dim, both Nikki and Ranboo winced, shielding their eyes from the piercing white flash.

“Ow.”

Once the ivory light dimmed to a soft, gentle color, Nikki gently grabbed the enderman’s arm, careful not to grab at his fragile claws. The bi-colored hybrid yelped, eyes still trying to focus on the shape in front of him. “H-hey!”

Nikki didn’t even glance back at the stumbling man. “I found Phil’s grooming area a while ago. I think we can use that to massage your muscles in some nice positions, okay? I won’t slam you into a wall, trust me.”

From the way Ranboo’s slitted pupils flicked to the side, he wasn’t too sure, but he followed along anyways. Nikki stifled a giggle at the semi-nervous look on the obviously taller person. What does he have to be afraid of? It’s just her. She steered the two of them into a large, softly-styled room.

Dimming the lights as to make it more comfortable for the enderman hybrid, she tugged her ally onto the cushioned platform in the middle. She glanced around, scanning for items she could use to relax his muscles. Dozens of tools lay scattered all over the soft, padded floor. She walked slowly over to one specific pile, feet bouncing slightly off of the bouncy fabric on the floor as she did so. `Kneeling down carefully, as to not aggravate her own sore muscles, she picked up a few tools she deemed were useful to her endeavor.

From across the room, Ranboo’s tail swished nervously from side to side, almost afraid of the shadows of her figure dancing in the light of the redstone-powered lamps. “A-are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Small warbles of fear laced his voice. Nikki sighed patiently. “Yes, it’s fine.” She returned to his side, guiding him onto his back. The enderman hybrid vwooped quietly, eyes flitting back and forth on the objects he could still see. “You’re sure we can do this. Like, really, really sure?” She didn’t even reply to that one, rolling her eyes from behind him.

That was one thing she never could understand about the boy. He could literally kill anyone he wanted with his claws, tear muscle and flesh apart like it was nothing. He could claw and bite and scratch until all around him were bloody and broken from his onslaught. He could simply screech, and nobody would be able to stand long enough to get in his way.

Yet he didn’t.

Ironically, and almost eerily like her, he loved to make people happy. He stumbled over himself to keep others safe and satisfied, even injuring himself badly to create a new axe for techno when his went missing. He loved his people, even when they failed to love him back. He kept on giving and giving, just like her. Yet he persevered in it. She almost wanted to ask him how he did it. She could, if she wanted to. He was right there, in front of her. If she could only open her mouth to ask.. No. She turned her head away slightly. “Nikki?” She turned back to see him glancing back at her, heterochromatic eyes slitting with worry. “Is something wrong? I can get up, if you want me to. I’m so sorry for bother-”

“No!..I mean, no, don’t leave. It’s okay, I just had...a flashback, of sorts.” Ranboo nodded, head movements limited by his positioning on the cushion. She moved closer, tools lying on the side of the table beside the cushion. A part of her wanted to ask where they came from. Did she do that? Prime if she knew. She was too tired to think about it, too tired to notice that she didn’t place it there herself. Nikki slowly started rubbing the backs of her hands against the tense muscles on the enderman’s shoulders, moving in small circles as she did so. As she put more and more pressure on the taut muscles, they began to relax under her careful eye. The effort it took to make just the tops of his shoulders relax was monumental for the smaller warrior, but the sighs of relief from Ranboo made it all worthwhile to her. She smiled slightly, empathetic side of her soaking in a similar amount of happiness. Her arms moved downwards of their own accord. She let her muscle memory do the talking, allowing her mind to wander away. In a haze of softened focus and the sweet, sweet scent of chorus fruit wafting in the air, she bathed in the calmness and the warmth of the situation.

It was almost pleasant to feel the boy’s muscles give way underneath her. Almost, being the key word. The slight amounts of pressure she had to keep on Ranboo at all times to keep him from teleporting away was the only thing keeping her grounded. All the same, she enjoyed his company. He never really spoke much outside of small, casual conversations, leading to comfortable stretches of silence between them. Personally, Nikki loved it. If she could, she’d love to have the team lounge about together. She knew it would be the most quality time she would ever get with a group of people who respect her for more than her baked goods. Nevertheless, she knew it was nigh impossible. When one side of the team was awake, the other was asleep. When all of them were around, they would all be in separate rooms. When they were all in the same place, they always had to go out to get new supplies, or fight off another horde of fools. Nikki longed to have more time with them, but… thus was their life. She-they chose it. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, even though there were a great many downsides to- “Ah- Nihikki!”

Nikki snapped back into focus, worry coloring her words. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” His tail curled around her arm, wagging slightly. Wait, wagging? She pushed gently at the spot that elicited the reaction, getting a similar squeak and a giggle. Oh. Nikki processed the information for a moment more, before snapping back to attention again. “Ranboo, are you, by any chance, ticklish?” Ranboo’s whole body froze, even his tail. “U-Uhhh….Would you believe me if I said no?” She tutted slightly. “Hmm, no, I don’t think so.” She moved her hands lower, delighting in the fact that the enderman had to bite his lip in order to keep all of the giggles in. His ears and tail flicked slightly, broadcasting how much he actually enjoyed it, even though he tried to protest every time she slowed down her testing for even a moment. “Why are you hiding you little giggles? I just want you to be happy, little enderboo!” At the nickname, the poor boy melted, small little warped giggles escaping. She stopped massaging in favor of lightly scratching all over his back, giggling softly herself when she felt his tail wiggle slightly because of the change. “Coochie coo, cutie pie! Giggle for me, dearie!” Ranboo couldn’t hold it in anymore. His giggles increased in volume and in pitch as she scratched at his lower back, tail unwinding and wagging from side to side in mirth. “Ehihihi! Nihihikkihihi!”

She cooed softly at him, enjoying his flustered whimpering and high-pitched giggles that starkly contrasted the low, deep voice her ally normally had. She found it even more endearing that, even though she couldn’t see the whole of his face, she knew that he was flushed a deep plum all over his cheeks and ears. “What’s the matter, Ranboo? Are you okay? You look a little...plum, if I may!” Ranboo groaned through his laughter. “Nihihikki! Nohoho puhuhuns…” “Oh, no Punz, you say? Of course there’s no Punz! You think that greedy pink piggy would want to come out to see us at this time of night?” At that, Ranboo’s squirming increased, forcing Nikki to pin him down further into the cushion with one of her hands. “You know, if you keep struggling like this, I may have to bring out the heavy-duty tools.” Ranboo shuddered violently, blush deepening at her words. “Unless, of course, you can keep your arms up for me~” She rolled him over, careful not to tense up the relaxed muscles by moving him around violently

. As his deep purple blush was revealed to the cooing baker, Ranboo’s hands twitched, having to fight the urge to simply curl up into a little duochromatic ball and avoid all contact from the other in a bid to keep his last shreds of dignity intact. But Nikki’s command, albeit concealed by soft, loving almond eyes and a sugar-sweet tone, was final, and he knew it. He chose to turn his head to the side instead, ears twitching madly in equal parts embarrassment and joy. Nikki took a step back from the cushion, looking down at her feet to avoid the enderman’s swishing tail. Watching to make sure her little victim didn’t escape while her back was turned, she picked up a small set of preening tools, all intended for other purposes. She would have to make do; after all, most people didn’t have a set of perfect grooming tools for the soft, almost silky fur of an enderman hybrid such as Ranboo.

Especially not him himself. No, that altruistic enderman refused to take care of himself. He refused to take dust baths or lava baths, saying that it was ‘too much to ask’ of them to give him some sand or a fire resistance potion (and some privacy). He refused to use Phil’s preening brushes, insisting that ‘enderman fur don’t get as gunked up as wing feathers’. Yeah, right. Even as she moved back towards the trembling, whimpering hybrid, she knew that brushing his fur would be a real challenge. The only way she was going to get the whole of his back and sides, along with his legs and tail, would be with his full cooperation. And boy, even though he could be a real pushover, he somehow always ended up refusing help at the very last minute, She sighed, resigning herself to a very, very long night.

Haha I just speedran this fic feeling good :3

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!ranboo #ler!nikki #My writing #downywrites #i am trying to get through my inbox :3 #tickle fic #sfw tickling

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

Feathers and dawn (part II)

Day 18 of Elriel month/ Teach me how to fly

You can read part I here.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and her body went cold and hot all at once.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

WC: 4164/ Warnings: Language

(I had so much fun writing this! As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos as well, but I can't look at it anymore lol)

Elain had held that light inside of her with everything she got, and even so it came close to controlling her rather than the other way around.

She still could feel it, not the light that shone so bright to blind someone's eyes, but more like a gracious flame of a candle in her chest. But that was nothing compared to how the muscles on her back burned.

When her eyes cracked open, she was half expectant that all of it had been a delirious dream or one of those visions that still hunted her from time to time. But then she tried to move to a sit position, and a scream escaped from her throat at the very, very real pain punishing her upper body.

Her entire back was sore, and she could feel a complex extension of muscles - from her neck to the end of her spine - that was now linked to two massive weights coming out of her shoulder blades.

Excruciating, blinding pain.

Elain didn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks, couldn't even hear the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

Strong, calloused hands were pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead a second later, and then Azriel’s beautiful face was there.

He was like a hiding spot in the middle of a storm, anchoring her from her agony, even though his expression was contorted in worry.

Azriel's eyes were wild, lips forming her name, but she couldn't hear a sound. Pain was all she knew, making her senses numbed.

Black dots started to dance in front of her eyes, her head getting light, and hazel ones full of terror was the last thing she saw before the world bleed into darkness again.

_______________

The next time Elain emerged to consciousness, first she smelled the leafy odor of salvia. Then the feeling of gentle, experienced hands massaged the line of her spine while she was lying on her stomach.

Heavy eyelids opened to the Velaris sunset, shades of pink and purple coloring the blue sky were visible through the familiar floor to ceiling windows, making her recognize her room in the river house.

Elain caught a movement from the corner of her eyes, and she inclined her head slightly to see Azriel, kneeling beside her bed, worry still printed in his face, but his eyes filled with relief now.

His hair was in complete disarray, the dark locks pointed in different directions as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed.

Those hands, unfamiliar hands, were still rubbing her exposed back, the gentle touch soothing the pain.

“That’s Majda, she’s almost finishing.” Azriel must have sensed her confusion. “How’s the pain?”

Her mouth was dry and it was an effort just to make words come out of it. “Tolerable” she said, voice raw.

He just nodded and then they fell in a comfortable silence. It was always like this with him - no need for empty words.

Azriel just stayed there in his vigil, shadows curling around his ankles, watching her with those familiar hazel eyes. Not the blazing gold of Cassian's, but rather an embrace shared between warm brown and stark gray, with hues of emerald green that would stand out according to his mood.

Eyes as complex as Azriel's himself, candidly observing her whilst Majda worked, her hands putting the exact amount of pressure to soothe her muscles, the salvia tuning the sharp pain into a dull ache. She didn't touch Elain's wings.

Wings.

Even with their weights on her back, even with the feeling of that warm power in her chest, Elain still was prone to believe it all had been a dream if it wasn't for the pain.

When Majda finished the healing massage, she merely told them she'd come back the next few days to do it again.

The bedroom’s door clicked shut, and Elain was already trying to get up, Azriel immediately protesting, "You should stay in bed.”

"I want to see them" was her only reply. She needed to see, to look at them. To know they were real.

"Your muscles aren't strong enough to support the new weight -"

Indeed, when she tried to stand, her balance wavered and she toppled forward.

Azriel caught her before she could fall on her face, hauling her up. Gently, one of his hands passed behind her knees, the other around her waist, and he scooped her up.

Elain let her head fall against his chest, breathing his scent as he walked through the room. A few moments later, far more than was necessary to reach her mirror, he put her down, but remained close.

She didn't see her pale face or even care about the fact that she was wearing nothing, but a nightgown that reached the middle of her thighs. Not when two massive wings rested on the floor behind her, the soft, white feathers touching the carpet.

Elain turned around to see her back, to see the point where the skin ended and the feathering began.

They were beautiful.

But she never had felt more unworthy of something. She couldn’t even hold them up, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It had been so exhausting spent months trapped in that murky realm, visions blending together with reality, that she hadn’t want find out what else the Cauldron had given her, hadn't want to touch that flame burning in her chest, not when her own body felt foreign and now -

Only when she felt tears dripping onto her chest, Elain realized she was crying, exhaustion falling upon her as a blanket, covering her to the bones.

She stood there for enough time that the next time Azriel spoke, she had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

Because she always seemed to sense whenever he was around.

"I will teach you everything."

It didn't sound like an offer at all. His words were a promise.

Slowly she turned from the mirror to face him - and nearly sobbed at how lovely and fiercely his eyes were, almost shining with sheer compassion.

Compassion for her, yes. But also for an Illyrian boy who didn't know how to fly, who found himself all alone in a war camp long ago. "I'll be with you and I'll teach you everything."

She didn’t know what to say, what to make of everything. So Elain only took his hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly.

But then, a thought struck her. "Truth-Teller," she gasped.

A smile curved his lips. "It's with me," he said. "I went back to the Cave. Turns out, without the Orb, the wards were gone."

Relief washed over her. And guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should - ."

Before she could finish her sentence, Elain was again in his arms. Azriel chuckled, but hadn't missed how heavy her eyelids were getting. "Not your fault. You weren't exactly in position to remember it," he said while gently carrying her back to bed.

But before he could lay down the mattress, he stopped by the side of the bed, and turned to look at her. Every ounce of amusement gone.

"I thought…" his words died and he shook his head.

No trace of that mask he so often used, no sign of his usually neutral expression.

The look on his face was Azriel in his most raw state. And she could see it.

I thought I had lost you.

She wished she wasn't so tired as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed, "I know."

He nodded. He understood.

He murmured as he lay her in the bed, "Sleep. I still owe Nesta an explanation."

Elain smiled sleepily, and mumbled, "Good luck."

Just when darkness came to claim her once again, Elain felt the ghost touch of a light kiss in her temple and the smell of mist and cedar. ___________

The next day, Elain was sitting at her usual spot by the window of the living room in the river house, the Orb laying on a desk right in the center of the room. What was unusual, however, was the many pairs of eyes glued to her.

Cassian's jaw was still on the floor by the time Amren, the last one to arrive, entered the room. Even her face went a bit slack when she took in the wings and some emotion sparkled in her silver eyes.

Elain tried not to blush, but all that attention wasn't helping.

Although Feyre had helped her before to retract and summon her wings, which she was grateful for, Elain didn't want to summon them in front of everyone, so she decided to just get straight to the point.

She didn’t know how Azriel explained what had happened to the others, especially to Nesta. But given the look on her face fixed on Rhysand and on the spymaster, a perfect I Will Slay My Enemies look, according to Cassian, Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But as for now Azriel just held her sister's gaze, his face neutral.

"So…" Cassian began, waving a hand towards her wings. "What the hell?"

"I think what he's trying to ask you is," Nesta gave a look at her mate. "Where did those come from?"

Elain took a deep breath. "Well..." She bit her lip, trying to choose her words in order to make sense. "After I found out what I was, I've never accessed the full extension of my powers. I knew the Cauldron had given me something else,something more, but I didn't want to find out what it was."

Rhysand asked, "Why."

"Because I was too scared," She replied honestly. That was all she could say. She didn't want to, didn't know if she could relive those days when she couldn't tell reality and dreams apart.

She glimpsed at Azriel, who was at the corner of the room, sorrow shining on his face while he gave her a reassurance nod.

"So when I grabbed the Orb, it… whatever powers I have just grumbled in answer, as if they were the same… they came to the surface. It tried to stop them, push them back, to let go of the Orb, but I couldn't… it trapped me"

"That's because they are the same," Amren said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain understood what lay on her eyes: recognition.

"What wicked sort of plans the Cauldron may have for the three of you," Amren went on, nodding to Elain and her sisters.

"Amren," Rhysand said, the voice of the High Lord. "If you know something, just tell us."

The petite female gave him a hard look, before turning to Elain. "The Cauldron didn't make you any Seer." Amren tilted her head, studied Elain. "He also happened to make you an Oracle." Her eyes were practically two blazing stars, and Elain had to fight a shiver, before asking "An Oracle?"

"That 's right, girl."

"What's the difference?" Nesta demanded.

"A different group of Seers… powerful ones", Rhysand murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I thought they were just a myth."

"They were as real as you and me, Rhysand," Amren said, shaking her head.

It was Feyre's time to demand, "Someone please explain."

"Before the High Lords, there was a time where this world lived in complete, unshakable peace," Amren began. "The Oracles were the great responsibles for this time of harmony, a group of Seers who used to celebrate life and pulled the threads of Fate. They travel through words just like we travel between courts, using their Seer powers to See and manipulate the future to their will… to prevent any cause of conflict before it even became a conflict. Subtle, swift creatures those females"

Elain wasn't sure if anyone in the room was breathing.

Azriel asked quietly, "How did they disappear?"

"No one truly knows." Rhysand answered. "The legends don't go that far."

"Common Seers have the gift of sight, but it's limited in its own way," Amren explained. "Oracles, however, have other sort powers as well and they can see further in the future, no matter how distant."

There was one question in Elain's mind, essencial and terrifying. "What is my power?"

Amren's smile was a thing of pure wickedness. "I guess you'll have to find out."

"But why the wings?" Nesta asked, brows furrowed.

Amren eyes softened a little. "Some claimed some of them heritaged from an unknown race of warriors. But not every one of them had wings. If you were blessed with them, they would call you the Leader. The others would fly on their winged horses by her side, travelling through the world and maintaining their balance."

Elain's head was spinning. "But what about the Orb?"

"I might have an idea, but I'll need to do some research in the Helion's libraries first." Rhysand shot his mate a look, his lips curving. "Care to join?"

Feyre only rolled her eyes.

Cassian let out a long breath. "So you're telling me Elain could see if a war is truly coming and stop it before it even begins."

A sick feeling gathered on her stomach, and she blurted, "No."

Silence.

"No what?" Amren asked thighly.

"No, I won't use my powers to play with Fate." She couldn't help the edge of rage in her words. "Espeacilly not when Fate itself had been playing with me all along."

Silence fell.

"You're right," Feyre offered at last, her voice soft. "It's your choice."

Gratitude washed over Elain.

"I want to learn how to fly, though" she blurted, glancing at Azriel, who was already smiling.

Feyre looked between them. "You'll find Azriel has… harsh methods, but they are quite efficient."

Rhysand, who had been just observing, suggested, "Maybe you, Feyre darling, can teach Elain, too."

"I will train her." Azriel's words were practically a snarl, challenge filling every one of them.

Elain looked at the shadows gathering around him as he stared at Rhysand, who just narrowed his eyes back. Strange.

"I'm sure Azriel is the better option to teach Elain, he was the one who taught me after all." Feyre was looking pointly at her mate. "But I can participate in a few lessons when they get tired of training alone." She said looking at Elain, eyes shining bright with an edge of mischief.

Elain ignored that.

"You'll have to build some muscles, you know that, right?" Cassian asked.

Muscles. It wasn't that Elain was opposed to that, but… she couldn't see herself as a warrior like her sisters. Surely, she wouldn't mind learning one thing or two, but...

"I'll help you."

Elain turned to her older sister, with raised brows. "I don't…"

"You don't have to learn how to use a sword, but I can help with your core muscles," Nesta offered.

Then, Elain couldn't stop the warmth in her chest - not from that source of power, but from pure gratitude. "Thank you."

Amren shocked her head and huffled a breath, edged with amusement, making Elain's brows furrow at that.

"A Made, reborn Fae and a Valkyrie training a new Oracle." Her lips curved in a feral smile. "Three Cauldron-blessed sisters, indeed."

Elain didn't have to use the Orb to know Fate had listened to Amren's words.

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

"Shit."

Azriel's curse hit Elain's ears, before her arm hit the rock as she fell on her face right into the lake.

They had been training for weeks now. At first, it was more about how to summon her wings and keep them up instead of resting on the ground.

Sometimes Feyre would join them, or even Nuala and Cerridwen made an appearance for what Cerridwen called "emotional support".

Which means they watched as Elain jumped just to fall right into that gods-damned lake and tried not to laugh. Cerridwen often failed spectacularly at that.

But after one particularly hard training lesson that ended up with more bruises Elain would care to admit, especially to her pride, Cerridwen had come to her room with a gift: a brand new and very pink apron with a winged fawn carefully embroidered at the front, the chain stitches meticulous done.

It was the most ridiculous apron Elain had ever seen - and she wore every chance she got with a stupid smile on her face.

But most of the time it was only Azriel and her. First they would stick to training, and she was able to focus only on the lessons. Until one day they had sat side by side at the shore, talking about everything and nothing, and, gods, she had missed him.

But then she felt that ravenous pull towards him and had to look away, before she could do something stupid again - and just like that she remembered why they had kept their distance in the first place.

She knew he desired her just as she desired him. She had seen the longing in his face, and had smelled his scent that night, darker than usual. Had read the hunger shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

But she had crossed a line he didn't want to cross.

Good thing now she had other things to worry about. Like ignoring the pain in her left arm, finding her way to the surface to get the hell out of that chilling lake.

But before she could do any of those things, Elain found herself looking at the sky and then the ground was beneath her.

And a very, very shirtless Azriel was by her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his tunic around her shoulders, scanning for injuries.

Even with her teeth almost chattering off her mouth from the cold, Elain couldn't help but take one good look at his muscled chest, those intricate tattoos on display and she felt her face heating. Not from embarrassment, but from pure desire that was pounding in her blood, traveling through her body. All she wanted in that moment, and so many before that, was to touch him, taste him. Be with him, by his side.

She imagined what would be like to have that powerful body hovering over hers.

Then she blushed a bit at those thoughts, too.

"I"m fine," she blurted after a considerable time, enough to make Azriel blush as well. And make her consider throwing herself at the lake again.

To distract herself, Elain closed her eyes and accessed that flame in her chest, letting it shine bright inside her, waves of heat running through her veins and bones until she was no longer cold.

When she looked at Azriel, he was already watching her. He cleaned his throat. "You kept yourself on the air longer this time."

Elain raised an eyebrow, "I fell on the only rock in this entire river."

A gleam shone in his eyes.

Elain narrowed hers at him.

"Are you trying not to laugh?"

"No," he said, clapping his lips together.

Every pound of desire in her blood died. "You said it wasn't funny anymore after the first four times!"

At that, Azriel tipped his head back and busted out such a rich laugh, that even Elain couldn't stop the small smile on her own lips. "You are a terrible teacher."

Except that he wasn't. Azriel was patient and thoughtful. He had refused to let her practice anywhere but the lake, and when she said she didn't need to be coddled and could practice on land, he had scanned her face, so many emotions passing across his, and told her he wouldn't see her getting hurt.

So they practice on the lake. Every day.

That was weeks ago and Elain was starting to think she would never take to the skies. She still couldn't sustain herself on the air for more than a few seconds.

"What is it like? To fly, I mean." she asked, eyes fixing on the lake before her.

She felt Azriel's eyes on her. "It 's freedom." Truth echoed in his words.

Elain nodded to herself. "I can hear the wind calling me." Her wing ruffled as if in emphasis."I can feel every muscle in my body begging me to jump out of the windows and it just… it's getting harder to ignore."

Elain tried to stop the burning in her eyes, her voice was broken when she breathed, "Why me, if I can't even get close to being airborne for more than five seconds?"

Azriel kept silent for so long, she didn't know if he heard her, but she was too much of a coward to look at him. Didn't want to look at him, not like this, not again.

But then gentle fingers found her chin and slowly turned her head to meet hazel eyes shining bright as the sun above them.

"Come with me."

Next thing she knew she was taking his extended hand and he shot to the skies, his tunic flying from her shoulders while she was being cradled against his bare chest.

Even though he was made of muscles hard as rock, his skin was warm and soft as the finest velvet.

Azriel landed right on the top of one of the highest mountains surrounding Velaris, the city bursting with life so far below that it seemed one of Nyx's toys.

And Elain almost stopped breathing. "Are you going to push me?"

Azriel chuckled, but didn't answer. "Turn around and close your eyes."

"So you definitely are going to push me," she murmured, but did as she was told.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't Azriel's large hands on her waist or the warmth of his body behind her.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest and his hands tightened on her.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

Especially when Azriel's breath caressed the

shell of her ear. "Focus on the wind passing through your wings, how each feather answers to it. Try to understand its direction, its temperature."

So she did. And she could feel it. She could feel the most external layer of feathers absorbing the temperature impact of the icy wind. Could feel the most little plumes, so sensitive they could perceive the slight change in any air current direction.

She became aware of everything around her. But mostly of the heat emanating from Azriel's body on her back, of his thumbs now drawing small circles on her sides.

"When I was a boy, I used to think the same thing as you do now," he whispered. "I was locked away and had to suppress so many instincts…" He let out a breath. "These wings are yours and only yours, you command them. It might take some time, but you will fly and control your powers. Be patient. You can do whatever you want, Elain."

It was his words, the meaning. He believed in her, had always believed in her.It was that certainty that had her leaning into his touch.

She folded in her wings and tilted her head, slowly opening her eyes to find his beautiful face inches from hers, close enough for her to see the hues of green in his eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Azriel said nothing. No, he just let every word shine in his gaze as he leaned down and brushed his nose against hers while his thumbs were still caressing her sides leisurely.

She sucked in a breath, eyes falling close as she lost herself at the pure intimacy of that touch. Elain's whole body went molten and she wanted nothing more than to melt against his chest.

But she couldn't cross that line again.

So she pulled back, just enough to look at his face and made herself say, "I think Nesta is waiting for me."

Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. "Right."

On their way to the House of Wind, she thought Azriel would keep silent but he surprised her when he said quietly, "Nuala and Cerridwen never told me you were training with them."

Despite everything, a faint smile curved Elain's lips. "You can't expect to know everyone secrets."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's my job."

And Nuala and Cerridwen's, too.

"I don't want to be a warrior," Elain blurted. "But… maybe I can use my gifts - my sight gifts, I mean - to..."

A whisper of those shadows still filled his gaze, but Azriel gave her a small smile. "Like spying?"

Elain blushed. "Perhaps."

"You'd make a good spy, but you have to be patient."

Elain looked at him. At that male who had intrigued her and made her feel comfortable and safe from the very beginning. At that male who found her when no one else would, who had seen her. Had truly seen her.

No, she wouldn't cross that line now, but...

"I can be patient, Azriel," she breathed. Promised.

This time, hope shone so brightly in his hazel eyes that no room was left for shadows.

#elriel #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #elriel month #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #elrielmonth

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