#cause i wanted to end the series plucking the shining stars from the sky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoongi-sugaglider · 4 years

Text

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God,star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

word count: 3548

tag list : @w1tchcraftt

“Apollo!”

The sun god glanced up from the arrows he’d been inspecting, grinning brightly as he watched his twin dance along the path leading away from the shoreline. Barely breathing heavily the young woman collapsed to his side, leaning her head against his thigh and smiling up at him as she watched his deft fingers wrap the stone arrow tips with the golden strands of his hair.

“I swear you’re going to go bald one day if you keep that up.”

He scoffed, nudging her side with his thigh and shoving her away as he held up a glowing arrow. “These are the strongest and most deadly arrows in all of Olympus. Surely one would want the most unbreakable of string in order to ensure and maintain that title?”

Artemis cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning back on her hands as she eyed the arrow waving in her face. “And that involves your hair how?”

“Why the hair of a god is the mightiest of mighty!” Apollo puffed out his chest causing the sun to radiate even brighter in response as he peacocked in front of his sister.

“I stand by my statement Apollo. Bald does not suit you. Surely there are others you could harvest string from?”

Apollo strugged, tucking the completed arrow into the ever filling quiver at his side before beginning his work anew. “Tell me sister dear, it is rare for you to visit the shore. Surely you’re off on another hunt?”

Artemis smiled, her gaze softening as she glanced towards the sky. The sun hung high in the sky above them, shining it’s life giving light upon the world. Just above the horizon hung the moon, barely a spot in the sky and yet seeming to seek out the light of her brother.

“We were resting. The hunt begins tonight, but Orion wanted to visit his brothers and swim in the sea.”

“You’re too soft on him Artemis. Allowing a half blood man to accompany you. The other Gods won’t take kindly to it if you continue this any longer.” Apollo frowned, eyes following his fingers as he wove feathers into one end of his current project. All the while though he watched his sister, watched the way her face fell at the mention of the other Gods.

“They can all rot. With the amount of women Zeus alone takes to bed I doubt my hunting companion has any bearing on whether I perform my duties or not.” The moon Goddess sighed, standing to her feet and brushing away the dirt and dust on her leather skirts.

“And what about me?” Apollo barely spoke above a whisper but Artemis caught the words nonetheless.

“We used to hunt together all the time Artemis. I am your twin am I not?” Apollo glanced up at his sister, eyes filled with a pain she’d not seen in him before, and another emotion, one she hoped she was misunderstanding.

“Brother dear.” Crouching before the golden God she cupped his cheeks in her hands, sending him a soft smile as she spoke.

“Nothing can ever change how I feel about you. Favored human or not you will always be my favorite hunting partner.” Her eyes danced between his, hoping he could hear the sincerity in her voice. “You will always be my brother.”

The strange emotion intensified,causing a moment of fear to wash over Artemis. Apollo stood, arrow gripped tightly in his hand as his gaze moved from her to a tiny black spot bobbing in the far off ocean waves.

“It’s not enough.” The golden God muttered. A rage filled him, tinged green on the edges as he raised the arrow before him.

Artemis stood quickly, eyes wide and panic causing her voice to waver. “Apollo?”

“I’ll not allow a human, demi or otherwise to come between us.” A golden light washed over them as Apollo plucked his brilliant golden bow from the rays of the sun. The arrow in his hand shimmered, turning to pure silver as he allowed the jealousy in his heart to take hold.

Drawing the string on his bow he knocked his arrow, shoving a screaming Artemis to the side and letting the arrow fly free.

In an instant the arrow found its mark and the black dot floating in the sea sank from view.

***

“Hyung, your phone’s ringing.” Tae darted over to the cd player, cutting the audio and plunging the dance practice room into relative silence besides the sound of 7 heavily breathing men and the melodic tones of Yoongi’s own piano playing as it spilled from the speakers of his phone.

Yoongi shuffled past the collapsed forms of Namjoon and Jimin, choosing to ignore their weary and somehow grateful expressions as he snatched his phone up and held it up to his ear.

“Y/n?”

“Hi Yoongi, I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

Yoongi couldn’t help the wistful smile that teased at his lips. “No, we were just finishing up dance practice. Did you need something?”

“I kind of do actually. But if you’re busy I can call back later?”

A chorus of no’s resounded through the room. Despite him not having the phone on speaker the others had heard her no problem. She giggled on the other end, not paying it much mind as this was so very typical of them.

“Alright boys, sorry to interrupt dance practice. But I’ve got business to discuss with Min Genius. I’ll be borrowing him for about an hour or two.”

The room went from a series of relieved sighs to cheering in a matter of moments. Yoongi smiled, hanging up the call after confirming the details of their meeting place, a coffee shop the two liked to frequent.

“Hyung!” Jungkook jogged over. A towel dangled loosely from his grip as he watched Yoongi pack his practice gear away.

“What is it Kookie?” Yoongi paused in his movements, giving the younger man his full attention.

“Just, I know what you’re thinking, and I just hope that you go a bit easier on her this time around.”

Yoongi shrugged, draping his gym bag over his shoulder and sweeping the blonde locks out of his eyes. “I can’t keep coddling this Kookie. If we don’t do something…”

“Hyung, we aren’t running out of any kind of time. I know it feels like it whenever a new lifetime begins but… we have the ability to be patient. It was bred into the 6 of us. I know it’s harder for you and I know you feel like the stakes are higher for you. And maybe they are. But we all love her.” Jungkook sighed, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “Just…”

Shaking his head Jungkook turned away, obviously irritated with himself for not being able to express himself properly. Yoongi reached out, gripping his shoulder gently and turning Jungkook to face him.

“I know. I get it.” He gave his brother a soft smile, eyes creasing as he pulled him in for a hug. “I’ll try, okay? For all of us.”

***

The coffee shop was a crowded mess of humans and smells. Fresh brewing coffee and pastries warming beneath the heated lamps in the display cases. Yoongi chose a seat at the back, close enough to the rear exist to provide an easy escape and yet aligned perfectly to give him full view of the large front window and entrance.

He didn’t have to wait long though. The faint sound of the front doorbell jingling sounded over the dull murmur of the cafe’s patrons, drawing his attention to the radiant form striding towards his table.

“Yoongi hi! Thanks for meeting me.” Pulling her messenger bag over her head she took her seat. No matter how many times he saw her, her brilliant smile never failed to leave him stunned for words.

“Your hair…” His whispered words barely reached her over the barista shouting out his order number.

Excusing himself quickly from the table he moved to the counter, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. She’d cut her hair, something she’d never have done before. He glanced back at her as he balanced the tray filled with their drinks and her favorite pastry. It now barely reached to her shoulders and the sight of it set off all sorts of alarms in his mind. Coupled with the sunglasses she had yet to take off despite the overcast sky outside and the fact that they were indoors set his thoughts racing and his blood boiling.

“Aish, thank the stars for you Yoongi.” She wiggled her fingers towards him as he walked back to the table,her fingers grabbing at the air like a child as he chuckled warm heartedly at her antics.

Taking her drink off the tray he handed it to her. She accepted graciously, inhaling the steam coming from the mug and releasing a purr like hum of pleasure . “Mmm.”

Passing off her pastry he placed his own order on the table before returning the tray and coming to sit across from her. “So, you needed to talk to me about something?”

“Ah, that’s right!” Dabbing her lips with a napkin she reached into her bag, pulling out a manila envelope and passing it over to Yoongi.

Delicate fingers flipped open the copper prongs, a smile lighting his face as he pulled out a sheaf of papers all stapled together with her name and the title of her latest book printed on the front page.

“You finished it!” He grinned, flipping through the pages and admiring her latest handy work as she looked on with pride and an unbridled joy.

“I managed to finish typing up the last chapter this morning.”

“So my advice worked? The writer’s block is gone huh?” He paused in scanning over the ending, eyes seeking out her own and finding her mouth full of pastry and a bashful look of embarrassment in her eyes at being caught stuffing her face.

Yoongi waited patiently as she chewed, smiling when she nodded and finally swallowed.

“Yeah! I didn’t even know binaural beats were a thing until you brought them up.”

He shrugged, carefully returning the pages to their folder and placing them on the table so that he could enjoy his coffee while it was still hot.

“Most people can’t handle them honestly. The tones can make them dizzy or nauseous if they don’t know what they’re getting into. But I figured you’d be able to handle it.” as he spoke his eyes glanced towards the entrance, always aware of the number of people entering and leaving the establishment and their proximity to himself and the woman sitting across from him.

As y/n continued to rave over her newfound writing aid he allowed his eyes to wander over her form. She still had yet to remove the sunglasses and despite the relative comfort of the temperature in the cafe, her long winter coat remained in place. His mind took note the beads of sweat forming on her nose, the way she winced when one particular hand movement caused her arm to knock into the wall beside her and the way she flinched and allowed her body to tense up from the contact and what he could only assume were bruises on her arm that she was trying to hide.

He reached out, subconsciously seeking out her wrist and watching in rising anger as she jerked her hand away from the contact. The two stared down at his open hand on the table top, his gaze intense and burning and hers guilty and almost fearful.

“Yoongi I…”

“He’s been hurting you again hasn’t he?” His tone wasn’t accusatory. On the contrary his voice was soft, words gentle as he closed his hand into a fist and slowly allowed it to fall into his lap.

She lowered her head, focus pinpointed on her lap as her mind seemed to race for something to say.

“I…I um…it was an accident. He was angry and I really shouldn’t have pushed him. I just…”

“Y/n please.” He reached for her again, grateful when she didn’t flinch away from him this time and allowed him to carefully hold her hand in his loose grip. “You’ve got to see this is wrong. That what he’s doing to you is awful and that you deserve so much better than this.”

Whispered words followed her, a broken cacophony of lyrics spinning through her mind as she attempted to make sense of what was going on before her.

Yoongi watched her mind work, knowing that what he’d just said would either turn her against him or guide her back to the joyful woman he’d fallen in love with so many eons before.

“Y/n? Talk to me…please?”

She shook her head, eyes clenched shut as if not seeing him could drown out his words.

“No Yoongi…not this time. Not right now…I…I have to go…”

Standing quickly she grabbed her bag, flinching as the chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor. She grabbed her folder and shoved it hastily into the bag, mumbling an apology and stepping away from the table, away from him. She threw him one last pain filled glance before she disappeared into the crowd and out the door.

He stared in despondence at the empty chair she’d just occupied. Once again she’d pushed him away. Once again she’d refused to hear the truth of her own reality. What would it take to get through to her? What would it take for her to see that he was only trying to save her from her own mistakes? From something that was basically killing her.

A growl escaped him, feral as the wolf within him. Fists clenched against cold unfeeling wood, claws threatening to break free and puncture the delicate skin of his palm.

He snapped to reality when the server came over, asking him to leave before his display of aggression chased away the timid customers around him.

A nasty comment thrown over his shoulder later and he stood once more in the cold, unfeeling rain outside. Flipping the collar of his jacket up against the dripping wetness he turned towards his home, knowing the questions that would be launched at him, knowing the concern that would fill his brothers’ eyes as he told them that once more he’d failed to convince her. That once more he might have been moments away from losing her forever thanks to her hard headed determination to escape his unending concern.

“Hyung?” Jimin’s voice broke through the perpetual storm of his rage.

He glanced around, only just realizing that he’d made it home and now sat on the massive wrap around sofa in the living room of his dorm.

“Hyung did you hear me?” Jimin reached out a hand, eyes filled with sorrow for the stewing rage flowing off of Yoongi in waves.

Yoongi sighed, having to physically restrain himself from snapping at the young pup.

“Sorry Jimin. No, I didn’t hear you.”

“Ah..w…well the others are all at dance practice but…I could feel you were hurting and well I came home to sit with you…if…if you want?” The dancer reached his hand out, eyes seeming to plead with Yoongi to accept the invitation for a listening ear.

The wolf within retreated, gaining Yoongi a clear head that allowed him to reach for and clasp Jimin’s hand in his own.

“I…yeah. I’m sorry Jimin. I know how much practice means to you, I just…”

“She didn’t want to hear it again?”

Yoongi nodded, eyes closing as he leaned his head against the back of the couch. “I swear it’s like she enjoys living with all of that pain.”

“Now I highly doubt that.” Jimin chidded, lips pursed as he frowned at his weary elder. “She’s afraid hyung. Probably too afraid of what it could mean to be happy. Of what it could mean to finally be free.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Yoongi raised his free hand to clench at the blonde hair swept over his forehead. “I mean who doesn’t want to be happy?”

Jimin patted his hand, mulling over his words for a moment.

“Well. She spent her whole life in pain. Even before she met us she’d rarely ever smiled, let alone had a moment where she could just exist and be a person right? At least that’s what I understood from what she told you.”

Yoongi nodded, tilting his head to the side to watch Jimin from half opened eyes. “Her childhood was fucked, teen years were trash, young adult years were shitty. Hell even now her life is a burning dumpster fire. That’s why I don’t get why she won’t let me help her?”

“Hyung… okay.” Jimin slid forward, eyes bright as a thought came to mind. “Do you remember 70 years ago when that cult invaded our territory and no matter what we did to kick them out they just kept throwing themselves at our claws?”

Yoongi grunted, not quite following Jimin but deciding to play along anyway. “Yeah, those religious freaks even had Joon baffled.”

Jimin nodded, a slight grimace coming over him as he continued. “The problem with them was that they’d been brainwashed right?” Yoongi nodded. “They’d been basically forced to live and work and act a certain way until they basically didn’t know anything else other than what their leader told them was the truth.”

“Yeah, I remember. That sick fuck had them convinced we were demons come to eat their babies or some shit so we ended up having to wipe them all out because they just kept coming back with new recruits n shit.”

“Yeah…well basically she’s going through the same thing.”

“What?? There’s no way. I’d know if she had joined a cult!”

“Hyung, focus here.” Jimin chuckled, patting his elder on the shoulder as he’d sat up in a rage and was now squeezing the blood flow from Jimin’s hand.

“I don’t mean she’s joined a cult. Okay look. When she was a kid you said her mom used to beat the crap out of her right? Not to mention the fucked up shit her ex did to her right?”

Yoongi growled at the memory of her telling him that exact story, remembering the deadness in her eyes as she told it as if it’d happened to someone else and not her.

“Who the fuck does that to their girlfriend??” Yoongi jumped up from the couch, tugging at his hair as he began to pace restlessly.

“She told you what her mom would do right? Telling her she wasn’t allowed to think of herself as pretty, not allowed to be selfish by asking for things and always being forced to put her younger brother and sister before her own needs right?” Jimin watched Yoongi’s restless movements, noticing the shadow of his tail and ears beginning to form.

“Yeah. And then when she got with that dumb shit from podunk nowhere he did the same shit to her, beating her and calling her all kinds of names and putting her down all the time…”

“She’s been hearing her whole life she’s not worth it. Not worth the joy, not worthy of being happy. Hyung…hyung!” Jimin had to shout to regain his elder’s attention. Yoongi’s head snapped to him, eyes glowing a golden honey as his canines sharpened and his claws began to twist and bend his fingers into strange shapes.

“She was brainwashed. Just like those cult followers her psyche was warped and twisted to believe these lies to the point that anything else that’s actually the truth sounds like some made up fantasy that could threaten her very wellbeing.”

As the truth began to dawn on Yoongi his form began to waver, melting back into the soft human form of a dejected man trying his best to understand and save his best friend, the love of his life…his soulmate.

“I…fuck…” He collapsed back onto the couch beside Jimin, eyes glazed as he stared up at the ceiling. “I…how did I never realize?”

“Because you were so busy being angry for her that you didn’t take the time to see the bigger picture, the whole picture.”

“J..Jimin…what do I do?”

Jimin’s heart twisted at the sound of Yoongi’s voice. The sound of a broken man searching for a way out of this pit of despair.

“If this were a human I’d tell you to give up on her and move on but…”

“You know I can’t. You know who she is…who she was…”

“I know hyung. And we all feel it, just as much as you do. But…well she found you first. It’s always been that way.” Jimin reached for Yoongi’s hand, pulling it into his lap and rubbing his thumbs gently over the elder man’s knuckles.

“We’ll figure this out hyung. Knowing what we know now I bet Namjoon hyung has an idea of what we can do to help her. We just gotta be patient okay?”

Though the newfound knowledge weighed heavily on his mind he nodded along to Jimin’s words, finding himself far too exhausted to think, let alone argue any further.

Chapter 2

#bts boulangerie #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #yoongi #bangtan sonyeondan #bts min yoongi #bts angst #bts x reader insert #bts x reader #werewolf yoongi #yoongi reincarnation au #bts reincarnation au #gods and goddesses au #mythology au #greek gods au #bts greek gods au

45 notes · View notes

urwelcomeforthis · 4 years

Text

the edge of the world

Also on AO3

It’s nearly midnight as the two women make their way down the empty and dark beach. There are no lights lit up, the closest ones almost a mile behind them, shining from the rows upon rows of condos that sit far too close to the water line.

Instead their path is lit by the stars and moon that hang overhead, and the glowing blue of the water caused by the bioluminescent plankton that lives there.

The smell of the gulf’s water and the sound of the lightly crashing waves combined with the slight breeze and the cocaine white sand between her toes is a heady combination that Kara revels in. The feeling she gets here is one that fills her chest up so full that it sometimes feels like her heart is trying to punch its way through her ribs and escape.

She’s got her hands full, a brown paper bag in one, a gallon jug full of red liquid in the other, a local hunch punch that’s as legendary as it is lethal. (Or, it will be once she mixes in the Everclear and Vodka they gave her at the drive through liquor store.)

They had both kicked their shoes off and left them in the car, parking in front of their friend Sam’s parent’s condo. Kara had insisted (rightly so) that shoes only made walking on the beach more difficult, and they wouldn’t want to have to carry them the entire way.

Lena, huffing behind her in indignation, is carrying a thick blanket and a large beach towel, clearly not thrilled at the amount of time the couple has spent walking down the beach.

Kara stops in her spot, turning to let Lena catch up to her.

“It’s going to be worth it ok? I promise. We’re almost there.”

“We’ve been walking for over a mile, Kara. In fucking sand. That means it’s more like a four-mile walk and you know it.” Lena doesn’t stop to stand next to Kara, instead just passes right by her, and Kara holds in a laugh.

She would never admit it (especially to Lena) but she kind of loves when her girlfriend gets all stubborn and moody over such little inconsequential things.

She just turns and jogs to catch up, pointing with the jug in her hand to the spot a few hundred feet in front of them.

“Look, the rocks are right there. We are almost done, and in a little bit Alex is gonna meet us and we’ll have fun, alright?” She knows Lena is nervous about being out on the beach at night, despite Kara’s many reassurances that it’s all going to be ok, but she figures it’s worth it to try once again.

“I still don’t think we should be here, Kara. It’s a state park, it’s closed, we have alcohol, and you are NOT supposed to climb up on those rocks, I’m almost positive. We could get arrested for this.”

Kara contains a groan – of course Lena googled the legalities of their nighttime venture.

“Lena. Relax, no one is going to arrest us, I swear. Alex and I have been coming out here for years at night. The worst – and I mean the absolute worst thing that could happen is that some FWC dude in a boat patrolling for people fishing illegally could see us and make us dump out the alcohol. And in like ten years that’s only happened once.”

Lena just throws an affronted glance over her shoulder at Kara.

“That does not make me feel any better about this Kara.” She huffs as she comes to stand where Kara is at the edge of the rock structure that keeps the jetties from the larger, deeper part of the gulf.

Kara sets the bottles and jug in her hands down at her feet and reaches out to grab both of Lena’s elbows, hoping to calm her down with the gesture.

“Babe. I know you like following rules. I get that, I do. It’s one of my favorite things about you. But the rules we are breaking are more for tourists and people camping at the state park, ok? They let locals slide on this kind of shit every single day, because sometimes nighttime is the only time we get the beach to ourselves.” She begins to rub her palms soothingly up and down her girlfriend’s biceps, feeling her relax bit by bit.

“I can’t swim.” Lena mumbles and looks down at her feet and god, Kara could not love her more than when she’s trying to prolong an argument just for arguments sake and only ends up being so cute and fucking endearing.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to go swimming then, isn’t it?”

“I could fall in.” There’s no fight left in Lena’s voice anymore and Kara can’t help it, she laughs.

“Ok first, I won’t let you fall in. And if I, arguably the clumsiest person alive, didn’t fall in the first time I got tanked on this stuff at 15, you definitely won’t. But I swear on my life that if you do fall in, I will jump in right after you, ok?” She ducks to meet Lena’s eyes, but when Lena doesn’t meet hers, she asks again.

“Ok?”

Lena finally looks up at her and then glances at the stretch of black rocks that grows wider and slightly higher the further out into the water they go.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

“Great!” Kara beams as she lets go of Lena’s arms and bends over to gather up the bottles at her feet. She bunches their purchases together in one hand, holding the other out to Lena in order to help her up the first series of rocks.

“Ok so just watch where you put your feet. If we stay in the middle it shouldn’t be slippery because the water has been so calm tonight.” She instructs as she climbs up behind Lena.

“Shouldn’t you be in front?” Lena asks as she begins to carefully pick her way down the line of the wall stretched out in front of them.

“Nah, I want to make sure if you slip, I can catch you. Plus, the view is pretty great from behind.” Kara waggles her eyebrows despite knowing Lena can’t see her and is rewarded with a low groan.

They steadily make their way forward, following the path of the stones until they reach the midway point. The beach is a little way behind them, and they’re surrounded on both sides by water. To Kara’s left is the small kiddie pool the rocks help to create, and to her right, is the open, deep water of the intercostal water way in the gulf.

“Here?” Lena asks and at Kara’s nod begins to lay down the towel. Kara joins her, sitting down and letting Lena wrap them both up in the blanket.

She empties the two medium sized bottles of liquor into the gallon jug and shakes it for a moment before plucking three bendy straws from her pocket and placing them in the opened top.

“Ladies first.” She says as she holds the concoction out, watching as Lena leans forward and takes a deep sip from one of the straws.

“I can’t even taste the liquor in there. That shit is dangerous.” Lena says with both eyebrows raised and Kara laughs.

“Yeah, it is. It’s also delicious.”

They pass the jug back and forth as they wait for Alex’s arrival, content to listen to the sound of the water lapping up against the sides of the rocks, gazing at the millions of stars lit up in the sky.

“Thank you, for bringing me here. I know it’s one of your favorite places.” Lena’s voice is quiet, shy almost, and Kara, even after a year together, can’t help it. Her heart flutters in her chest.

“Yeah well, you’re one of my favorite people, so it seems fitting.” She nudges Lena’s shoulder with her own.

“I’m also sorry I complained so much. This really is breathtaking.”

Kara turns her head to watch as Lena tilts her head back to look up at the sky, and thinks, yeah, yeah it is.

“Well I did make someone from the city walk a mile barefoot in the sand and away from all civilization. But I’m really glad you like it.” She says instead, but she knows Lena must have heard her unvoiced thoughts by the way she snuggles into Kara’s side.

Kara wraps her arm around Lena, placing a lingering kiss on top of her head, hoping this is just the first of many times they sit here together, under the stars.

Here’s the place that inspired this:

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers x lena luthor #kara danvers #lena luthor #i miss home a lot so i wrote this #included a pic of the actual place in case anyone was curious

13 notes · View notes

goddamnitdazai · 6 years

Text

salt and sugar {two}

Chocolate {series: 2/?} {index} {Chuuya}

“You look fucking ridiculous.”

Chuuya’s head tilts to the left as he speaks. Grey smoke billowing towards the night sky from his cigarette. Orange flames highlight the bow of his upper lip and accentuate the pout of his lower; he never did realize how tempting his lips looked when he was scowling. His inhale is sharp, precise, and begins a trail of ringlets that float away in the gentle midnight breeze. The night had grown dark quickly leaving smaller convenient shops and rows of street lights shining as the only signs of life. An unfortunate evening to be without moonlight. After all, how were you supposed to play romantic on a boat with no stars and no moon to feign infatuation over?

“I thought you liked this dress on me, darling?”

He hadn’t uttered a word about it. But, the way his eyes drug themselves down your body as he strolled past you was enough. Sort of. It would have been nice to hear a compliment even in passing or on the boat where the two of you were playing house. The dress sparkled brilliantly every time you moved despite the terrible convenient store lighting. As form fitting as his suit, and nearly the same color. A smooth train of translucent black fabric followed you as you stepped towards the sliding door with a hand cinched over the straps of your heels. Chuuya only offered to carry your purse beneath his arm, but refused to take part in carrying your shoes. ’Why walk on the dirty sidewalk?!’ You’d never heard his voice hit that octave before and he didn’t seem to appreciate your amusement in the impressive range.

Your sarcasm was not lost to him, but rather than bite at your trap he ignores the tone and takes another drag of his cigarette. Chuuya looked just as out of place as you did, but he wore it much better somehow. A suit tailor made for a prince in the color of onyx with only a pop of cherry red hanging around his neck. It was strange at first to see him without his hat; he couldn’t risk it falling off the boat he said, but you had a feeling he just liked the way you played with his hair on the car ride over. For a spring night it was uncannily cold and the spray of ocean water on your bare arms and neck turned brief gusts of wind into slats of ice pressing against your body. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the boat ride was cut incredibly short due to a certain black-beast-wielding individual who didn’t bother waiting for orders. At the very least, his actions allowed you to slip away without having to deal with clean up duty.

Chuuya, on the other hand, was not so easily distracted by the beautiful spring night and did not miss you sprinting off the docks.

“You going in or what?” Chuuya flicks his cigarette towards the curb and stomps the burning edge with his heel. Though his irritation was understandable you were in no mood to deal with his temperament considering you had nothing to do with his plans going awry. He always said the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was created in your honor. “Oi, stop glaring at me and go get your food. Five minutes and I’m going to the room with or without you, darling.”

His hands slip into his pockets, back meeting the wall and head resting at a tilt to glance up at the starless sky. The door chimes as it slides open and Chuuya dissipates into the shadows. The clerk behind the counter barely glances your direction. Running a twenty-four hour shop in this area must give him a bouquet of strange people after midnight. What’s one girl in a ball gown with no shoes?

Rows of snacks and junk food create colorful aisles; a bit too bright for your level of exhaustion. Everything caused your eyes to strain and you could feel the beginning of a headache forming above the bridge of your nose. Nothing looked remotely agreeable to a stomach full of strawberry champagne. Dessert sounded perfect, not over-priced bags of chips; your jaw locks roughly as you weave through displays. Apparently, the mafia owned hotel at the edge of the warehouse district didn’t serve food after ten ‘o'clock. Hirotsu was going to have a two page complaint slid between reports when you returned.

In the back of the store rows of eerily clean glass-doored coolers housing a variety of beverages line the entire wall. Just catching the shadowy outline of a champagne bottle in the reflection makes your stomach bubble. Through rows and rows of soda and beer and odd-sounding drinks you finally spot a familiar pink carton. At least you wouldn’t be leaving empty handed. That would spark another fight you weren’t prepared to handle with diplomacy. Persuading Chuuya to let you stop was kin to pulling teeth, and you would never hear the end of it if you came out with nothing. Chuuya had made it irrevocably clear he just wanted to fall face first into bed and forget the entire night; you weren’t ready to leave him yet.

Truthfully, you weren’t that hungry at all. A weight began to grow in your throat as you fiddled with the carton. Maybe his irritation was pinpointed in the right direction after all. Chuuya did not overthink things, but he was perceptive, much more than you were comfortable with. At times it made things easier. Silence could hold the weight of the world if the right eyes fell upon the unspoken words lingering in the air. Strung up between two people refusing to open their mouths or in this case one–you. The lump thickens, like a ball of sand blocking your airway.

Maybe he knew this was all a bunch of bullshit, and he only kept his mouth shut to avoid an awkward work situation. Or maybe he just didn’t give a shit at all.

The lump drops.

Your shoes clack together as you make your way towards the counter. On impulse you mutter Chuuya’s cigarette brand and toss a box of chocolate pocky onto the counter along with the carton of strawberry milk. The cashier yawns the total and you reach to your side only to fumble with the fabric of your dress. Chuuya still had your purse. As if he could sense your distress Chuuya strolls in from your right causing the bell to chime ten times louder than you remembered. Your hands fly to your temples; Chuuya shoulders his way in front of you. Displeasure is painted across his features. Narrowed eyes still glossy and red from the alcohol, and a dilapidated frown you’d only seen twice in the entire year.

“You’re more trouble than a child tonight y'know that?” Chuuya tosses a billfold on the counter and swipes the bag from the cashier quickly. All you can muster is a half-whispered thank you before scurrying out behind him. Curiously, Chuuya peeks in the bag. His brow quirks. “How’d you know I was out?” he asks while bringing up the cigarette box from the bottom of the bag.

“You’ve been smoking like a fucking chimney.”

“It’s been a night,” Chuuya mutters, plopping the cigarettes back in the bag. “A long, shitty fucking night.”

Chuuya wasn’t the only one with a breaking point. Regardless of his preference of company his attitude was unwarranted and continued to sour in your chest. Undeserved animosity always plucked at your nerves.

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell from your cheery attitude. You’re welcome by the way.”

His head whips around. One hand lands in his hair searching for his hat out of habit. He always gripped the brim when he was getting antsy.

“I paid for the damn cigarettes!”

The edge of your high heel scrapes your elbow as your arms wind across each other over your chest. Tears had begun to prick the corners of your eyes; annoyance, exhaustion, dejection.

“Then remind me to repay you. I’ll make sure not to disturb the stick that’s up there when I shove the money in your ass.”

Red cuts across his eyes. His fists curl, bag crinkling beneath the pressure; the sidewalk spiderwebs beneath his feet sending shards of cement flying across the road. Your breath catches in your throat; crimson wanes. Wordlessly, Chuuya spins on his heel and stalks off towards the building rising in the distance.

He hated how incredibly weak he was to his own emotions. At times they did not matter, but when they sunk in deeply they left open wounds needing attention, and they held the magnitude of a hurricane. Explosive in nature, and embarrassingly uncontrollable. But, his anger did not stay with him long. It came in short bursts, like fireworks, before decaying to nothingness leaving only a smoky trail. Diplomacy was a point of pride because it did not come naturally to him, and even a spat as small as this left a sickly feeling in the bottom of his stomach. To make matters worse he couldn’t find any other reason behind his vehemence, and the person who should be bearing the brunt of his vexation was off cleaning up his own mess. When Akutagawa fucked up he really fucked up.

Chuuya’s stomach knots within itself. The light above flickers. In his haste he’d walked further than he expected towards the hotel, he could barely make out your form behind him. His chest sinks forward as he reaches into the bag to grab his cigarettes. The box feels stiff, wrong color. His hands fumble with the box until he can catch the label under the light. Chocolate pocky.

Fuck.

For a second time his hand winds up in his hair. Smoothing out tangles and tugging the ends of his bangs. Plastic crinkles against his palm with the tension of his grip. Chuuya didn’t know what to do with the rising apprehension undulating in the pit of his stomach. It rose to his chest like thick bouts of smoke choking him in its ascension. The sound of your heels smacking against the sidewalk draws his attention forward; the smoke begins to dissipate.

“Don’t say a word. I had to put my shoes back on because the dress was dragging.” Chuuya isn’t surprised in the way you snap at him. He deserved it at this point. “What are you staring at.”

Chuuya’s eyes don’t waver. They intensify, piercing through the darkness and etching their presence into your skin. He couldn’t recall the last time he openly expressed his irritation outside scolding the wrong actions of his subordinates. There were moments around Kajii and Akutagawa where feelings of immediate annoyance came through in his tone and his words, but situational aggravation was only in relation to his temperament. It faded, quickly, and he didn’t feel a strip of guilt. Even when he had lashed out at people who didn’t deserve it he muttered a quick apology and went on with the rest of his day.

But there was a piece of him that couldn’t shake the bothersome feeling of how his actions affected you. He shouldn’t be so fixated on that aspect alone. There was validation in the way he felt. The night went terrible, it was freezing, and he would have to find a way to clean up Akutagawa’s mess in the morning. Headaches and paperwork were all that awaited him when he returned to Yokohama.

However, he didn’t really care that much the more he thought about it. His only focus fell to the way you stayed an arm’s length away from him and that your eyes would not meet his gaze. No words formed on his tongue, whatever charm he’d often used to talk himself out of situations regarding another’s ill feelings had been completely forgotten. He couldn’t bring himself to bullshit with you, especially when he truly felt like an utter asshole.

His hand drops to the bag momentarily and brings up a red box from the bottom. For a man who rarely exposed his hands his fingers were incredibly adept in their movements. The box tab flies open exposing a row of chocolate covered pocky. A single stick lands between Chuuya’s fingertips.

“Ever play the pocky game?”

There is nothing on his expression that reads as a joke, but the whiplash of emotions leaves you frozen. A step forward brings him directly beneath the street lamp. Amber light accentuates the sharp cut of his jaw and sprinkles auric into his eyes.

“Do you know how to play?” His voice rattles down the center of your chest and snatches the air from your lungs. “Bite.”

Whatever this was, challenge or trick, you had enough of his shit for the night. Effortlessly you bite down on a decent chunk of the side poking out from his mouth. He mimics your movements; his fingertips glide over your waist. The second bite leaves his breath ghosting over your lips; your heart leaps to your throat. Chuuya pulls back and lets the pocky fall from his mouth.

Time drags; Chuuya manages a simper before his lips mold to yours. Tenderly, two pieces of a puzzle finding completion within each other. A hand winds around your waist, it’s twin roams up the back of your neck to hold your head steady. He breaks apart, just enough to inhale and nibble at your bottom lip before returning. The alcohol and heat dust red over his cheeks. His hair tangles in your fingers barring him from kissing elsewhere. Your teeth sink into his bottom lip when he moves back for air. Chuuya’s moan vibrates against your lips, kiss-swollen and breathless.

“You wanna play like that? Right now?” Chuuya murmurs. “You’re all fucking trouble tonight, y'know that?”

#chuuyaxhappinessweek #Chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #s&s #fluff #my writing chuuya #my writing

126 notes · View notes