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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Into The Woods

Pairing: werewolf!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Werewolf!AU] It’s love at first sight when you move into a quaint, little house by the forest’s edge, but you soon find that there’s more waiting for you in the woods than you originally thought.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: my third commissioned story! this work has been altered so everyone can read it, but the plot remains the same. this story was a blast to write, and i hope you all enjoy it! <3

With a step back and a firm tug, the back door slammed shut with a satisfying click. You grinned as you turned the key in the lock. Slipping the silver keyring into your pocket, you turned on your heel, your gaze sweeping over the vast open forest that stretched out before you. Viridian green leaves loomed over the earth, standing in stark contrast to the clear, cerulean blue sky that stretched across the horizon overhead. On the ground below, the occasional wildflower sprouted up and out of the earth, their soft petals shyly unfurling and fluttering in the warm summer breeze.

For such a lovely view, you never would have guessed that you would be able to afford a place like this for so cheap.

Then again, Elmwood Ridge wasn’t a particularly notable town. Best known for its countless acres of elm forests and the large lake that laid at its centre, the town had become something of a nature reserve unto itself, despite being anything but. It was a quiet, quaint region, somewhere you had always distantly dreamed of visiting, if only because of its peaceful atmosphere. You never thought that you would end up living there, though.

It had been a split second decision made on impulse, and looking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t regret one bit. Your new house was two stories tall and built with lovely stone bricks that looked like they came right out of a fairytale. The triangular sloping roof hung just over the sides of the house to provide some shelter from the rain, and the second floor had two balconies—one in the front and the back. Needless to say, you were sold in a heartbeat. Not only was the house pretty, but so was the price tag. You vaguely remembered hearing something about complaints of noisy wolves in the forest, but you weren't deterred. A little noise never killed anyone, and you were more than happy to share your space with nature.

Hopping down the back steps, you gently tread across the soft grass, careful not to step on any flowers as you walked. After moving in two days ago, you had planned to take the day off to hike and learn all that you could about your new backyard. You would head into town tomorrow and look for a job then—right now, all you wanted to do was explore and appreciate your new home.

Gazing up at the rustling elm leaves one last time, you smiled to yourself before stepping out of your lawn and into the forest.

In the distance, a faint howl rang out across the trees.

Between stretches of chestnut wood, a flash of tawny brown and golden fur dashed across the earth, powerful paws pushing off the ground with each leap. Landing atop a fallen log, the wolf raised his head, his muzzle raised toward the sky as he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

Fresh. Clean. Warm. The faintest scent of flowers.

He exhaled, emerald eyes blinking as he scanned the open forest around him.

Carrying out routine morning patrols around the pack’s territory was one of the alpha’s many duties, but Clay still wasn’t quite used to it.

Stepping down from the log, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth, his ears flicking as he took in every sound. Somewhere above him, a bird flapped its wings, chirping as it took flight. Along the breeze, he could pick up the distant scent of deer coming from the south. His eyes flashed at the smell. He would have to report that to the pack when he returned—it had been a few days since they last had a large hunt. Sniffing one last time, he began weaving between the looming trunks, his entire body rapt with focus.

He had only been appointed as alpha a little less than a month ago, and although he had technically been taught the ropes, it took more than just a few lessons for a wolf to truly become alpha. He could still remember how the former alpha had pressed his nose to his side, nudging him onto the rock peak in front of his pack with an aging howl. He had been getting older, and everyone knew it—it was only a matter of time until a new leader was selected, but Clay never would have dreamt he would be the one who was chosen.

Only a few people were as surprised as he was, though. He was one of the larger wolves in the pack, and while he wasn’t the tallest in his human form—that title belonged to the young, curious Ranboo—he was by far the strongest, having led more than his fair share of hunts before. It was only natural that he ended up in his position, and he was welcomed into the upper ranks with open arms.

A glimmer of warmth washed over him at the memory, and he would have smiled if he wasn’t shifted. He had never felt such pride before, feeling everyone’s excited gazes on him as he howled up at the gleaming, full moon. The shouts that filled the starry night sky made his heart swell in his chest, and he just knew he was going to do his best to make everyone proud. He would protect them to the ends of the earth, if he had to.

Kicking away a stray branch, his eyes quickly flicked over his surroundings. He recognized this area, and he knew that he had almost completed a full circle around the pack’s perimeter, by now. There was only a tiny stretch left before he would return to the camp and fill everyone in. Raising his head, he let his jaw fall open to catch any aromas that travelled along the breeze.

All of a sudden, a new scent wafted over his nose, an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity striking deep within his core.

There was something in the woods—something that did not belong here.

In an instant, Clay’s lips were pulled back in a snark, his sharp canines bared as he sank his paws into the soil below. His claws latched onto the dirt, his grip firm and unwavering as he pressed himself closer to the ground, careful not to let his scent travel in the air.

They weren’t common, but every now and then, hunters would venture into the woods with their heads held high and guns drawn. Most of them came hunting for game, shooting down the occasional deer or elk to bring back to their own families. Clay didn’t have a problem with those hunters, but as for the ones who came in search of wolves?

Clay wasn’t sure he could be so lenient with those ones.

Prowling forward, he kept his haunches low, his tail brushing over the shrubbery as he took step after step toward the strange, new scent. Ever so slowly, he crept closer, his pupils dilated in focus. Suddenly, he stopped, freezing in place.

He could hear footsteps.

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyelids fall shut.

One, two, three...

His eyes shot wide open, and he whipped his head up, only to go stock still as a silhouette came into view.

It was a person, a regular person.

He blinked as he lifted his head, his expression growing neutral as he watched you crouch down to examine a small pile of stones stacked beside a tree, one that he vaguely remembered being made by Tommy and Tubbo when they went exploring a few weeks ago. There was no gun strapped to your body, no pack hanging off your hips as you rose back up to your feet. You didn’t seem to be a threat at all, and from the back, he couldn’t tell if you were even carrying a weapon.

Just then, you turned to the side, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The world suddenly fell away, his surroundings melting into nothing more than a hazy blur as his eyes locked onto your face. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

The light framing your lovely face made your cheeks seem all the more lively as you rose. He watched as you brushed your fingers delicately over the bark of a tree, your brilliant eyes meticulously tracing over the curve of every leaf as you walked past. Your feet never lingered in one place for long, constantly moving and skittering across the forest floor like a rippling stream. It was almost as though your every movement cast streaks of dappled sunlight everywhere you stepped, the marvelling spark flickering in your gaze making his head spin with wild abandon.

Clay felt something warm and tight curl against his insides, unmistakably soft and affectionate. It was almost hard to breathe with the way his lungs squeezed and shook behind his ribs. He hadn’t felt this feeling before, but he had heard enough stories to know exactly what it was.

His mate—you were his mate.

There wasn’t any one way to truly describe what a mating bond was, but the most commonly accepted one was that it was a connection that tied people’s souls together, uniting them in perfect harmony. Every werewolf had a mate, and most of the time, they would find their mate in another one of their kind. But right now, as Clay stood in the forest, his gaze glued to the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes on, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his mate in some other shifter like everyone else had said he would.

Having a human for a mate was rare at best, and unheard of at worst. After all, not every human had a mate, and he had heard stories of shifters being rejected by their human mates. Some of the elders in the camp still refused to believe that having a human mate was even possible, but nearly all of the younger shifters had accepted it—embraced it, even. But never in his pack, at least, had someone learned that their mate was a human.

It looked like he was going to be the first.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, watching you silently with wide eyes as you slowly made your way deeper down the path. A part of him wanted to chase after you, yearned to walk by your side for as long as his legs would let him. But as soon as he raised his paw, he quickly lowered it again, a pang of guilt shooting through him.

He couldn’t go up to you—not like this, and most certainly not now. He didn’t have nearly enough experience under his belt as an alpha yet, and bringing you to his world could just make everything even worse if he wasn’t careful about it. He swallowed, taking a single step back as you slowly slipped out of view, disappearing into the trees and carrying your lovely scent away with you.

Anxiety gnawed at the inside of his gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you would even return. Surely you must live around here to be hiking in these woods—maybe you would hike here again, if not even more often.

He paused, then nodded to himself before whipping around, his tail swishing behind him as he clenched his jaw.

Tomorrow. He would come back tomorrow.

A few feet deeper within the trees, the sound of a stick snapping shattered the forest’s silence.

Along the lightly-treaded path, you whirled, your head pointing toward the sharp sound. Pausing, you raised your head, your gaze darting to the forest canopy above. The sun peaked down at you between swaths of vibrant green, and you squinted, raising a hand to shield your eyes. The trees remained quiet around you, only whispering with the soft rustles of their leaves.

A moment passed in silence. A robin warbled.

You let out a long exhale and shook your head. Turning once more, you stepped over a small crack in the ground, humming as you walked further into the woods.

It was probably nothing.

Sapnap grunted as he dropped the pile of sticks onto the ground, the wood clattering at his feet in a heap. He scowled at the sight, resisting the urge to kick the pile down. He couldn’t believe Wilbur had actually tricked him into doing something as simple as collecting firewood. It wasn’t difficult or anything, but he was the beta, for crying out loud! He could have at least passed the buck to someone like Tommy, that brat.

“Sapnap.”

Sapnap blinked at the familiar voice, turning to find himself standing face to face with Clay. His dirty blond hair was disheveled atop his head, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. A smile tugged on his lips at the sight. “Oh, hey, Clay. Welcome back.” He squinted at the way Clay’s chest heaved, his breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Um, you good, there? Did you run back here or somethi—”

“It happened,” Clay blurted.

Sapnap blinked, raising a single brow at him. “What happened?”

Clay swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I met my mate.”

Sapnap paused. “Oh. Oh.” A wide grin stretched across his face, and he reached over to clap a hand to Clay’s back. “That’s awesome, man! I’m guessing it happened on your patro—”

“My mate’s human,” Clay said suddenly.

Sapnap paused again. “Oh. Oh.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Clay’s shoulders went slack at his side as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his scalp. “I, um,” he said, his words coming out in a hazy rush. “I don’t think I’m ready to—” He stopped, feeling Sapnap’s patient gaze rest on him, then opened his mouth, again. “I can’t just reveal our world so soon. I’ve only been alpha for what?” He gestured vaguely. “A month? I’m not experienced enough, yet.” He slumped forward, a hollow, wistful look settling onto his features. “It would be too much for both of us.”

Sapnap nodded thoughtfully, understanding flooding his face. “It’s okay, Clay. Take your time.” He fell silent for a brief moment, then quietly added, “Did you reveal yourself or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was too surprised to even move.”

Sapnap’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “Then there’s no rush,” he said. “You’re allowed to build up your confidence first, dude. Your confidence as a wolf. As an alpha.” His eyes flashed with soft reassurance. “As a mate.”

Clay raised his head, blinking as Sapnap gently nudged his shoulder with his. “You can do this. Plus,” he added, his tone growing more lighthearted, “I’m your beta. You know I’ve got your back.”

The chuckle that escaped Clay’s lips was low and short, but he could already feel the tension seep out his shoulders like a leaking dam. “Thanks, Sap.”

Taking a step back, Sapnap hummed, offering him a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”

Clay turned on his heel, jerking his head toward the centre of the camp. “Well, I need to organize today’s hunt, but I’ll catch you later. I trust you’ll keep things under control while I’m gone.”

He nodded. “Of course—you know me.” With a short wave and a small grin, Clay began walking off in the opposite direction. “Oh, also,” Sapnap suddenly shouted after him, “don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go hunting today, yeah? I know you missed breakfast.”

Clay didn’t look behind him as he shot a thumbs up at Sapnap from behind his back, but Sapnap could already picture the way he would roll his eyes with a smile. Shaking his head, he turned back to the firewood scattered around his feet, a new glower creeping onto his face.

He was so getting back at Wilbur for this.

Every morning after, Clay dutifully woke up early and strolled deep into the woods, shifted into his wolf form as he scented the air and patrolled the area just as any good alpha would. But time and time again, that one sweet scent never seemed to return, almost as though it had vanished from the forest entirely. At times, he thought he caught the faintest whiff of it, but some further exploration would only reveal a small patch of flowers, never you.

Needless to say, his disappointment was palpable.

It had been a full week now, and Clay was running out of hope. Maybe he was wrong—maybe you wouldn’t ever come back. His heart ached at the thought.

He had been too hasty, wasn’t he?

Hanging his head, he whimpered to himself in the quiet forest, sniffing absentmindedly as he ambled about almost aimlessly. He still had a duty to fulfill, he knew, but he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest.

But right then, just as he paced another few feet forward, he heard it.

A melody.

It was soft, the singing travelling down from the west in a distant murmur, or perhaps a hum. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he surely would have missed it. He didn’t know this song, didn’t recognize it one bit, but he could already tell that it was sweeter than any thrush’s song or any loon’s call. He felt his heart flip in his chest, and just like that, he knew.

In a flash, he was racing across the earth, his paws flying out beneath him in a blur as he ducked under branches and darted past deer, missing the way they startled at his sudden approach. The song was louder now, and he could smell it—smell you.

It was only a few seconds later that he came to a stop, his paws digging into the ground as his heart leapt into his throat.

Soft hair. Bright eyes. A dazzling grin.

You were back.

You had headphones on this time, he realized, and you were humming aloud to yourself, your feet most likely moving in time to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. You were a little off-key and occasionally stumbled over the refrain as it came around, but he found himself entranced nonetheless. Even when you were doing something as simple as humming, you were stunning.

Why come back today of all days? he distantly wondered to himself. What made today so different from any other day?

He wracked his mind as he felt the sun shine down on him gently, warming his back as he crouched down a little. He rarely kept track of the days—that was Sapnap’s job—but he knew that there hadn’t been any special events or holidays going on in the human world. Pressing his ears flat against his head, he scratched his paw at the ground in confusion. Just what made today so special?

That was when the realization slammed into him.

It had been a week since he last saw you.

Once a week—you must hike here once a week.

If he could smile in this form, he already knew that he would have the biggest, stupidest grin plastered to his face. He wanted to leap for joy and howl like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t want to alert you of his presence just yet. Again, it had only been a week, and he was still far from being a worthy mate for you.

Once a week, he thought once more, his eyes glued to you as you skipped further down the trail and out of his sight. I can wait another week.

The wind sang in his ears as a gentle breeze brushed over his tawny fur, the forest murmuring a silent lullaby into his ear as he whirled back around. As much as he wanted to stay with you forever, he had a patrol to finish and a pack to defend. He let his eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments, your face engraved into the rosy crevices of his heart as your humming filled his ears once more.

He couldn’t wait to see you, again.

One week later, you grumbled to yourself as you stomped through the woods, complaining about your new job under your breath. Clay wished he could comfort you, but stayed put with his claws buried in the dirt.

Two weeks later, you watched with wide eyes as a doe and her fawn drank from a nearby stream. He made sure not to hunt those two down in particular later that week.

Three weeks later, you were snapping photo after photo with the camera hanging around your neck, your eyes absolutely brimming with curiosity. He thought you were prettier than any view the forest had to offer.

As one week stumbled into the next, the months began to pass in a blur. Summer collapsed into autumn as the leaves turned gorgeous shades of crimson red and golden orange before tumbling from the sky. Shortly after that, the forest was covered in a blanket of ivory white snow, leaving the branches bare and awaiting the return of spring. The snow soon melted into rain, and puddles littered the forest floor while flowers began to bud and bloom once more. In almost a whirlwind of seasons and waiting, summer rolled around once more, marking the first anniversary of your arrival in Elmwood Ridge.

With each passing season, Clay continued to watch you from afar with a tender gaze. Some days, he would listen to you hum as you trekked along while other times, he would only manage to catch the tiniest of glimpses of you between the trees. No matter how short the instance was, every second he got was well worth the wait, and Clay could feel his affection bloom like a new spring flower. As the trees grew larger, as did his confidence. Time was the best teacher the forest had to offer, and it didn’t take much longer for Clay to grow comfortable with his duty as the alpha of his pack. But despite his newfound strength, he still didn’t feel ready enough to approach you outright, to reveal himself to you as he was. Doubt swirled in his mind like a raging storm, eating away at him like a gnat digging through mud.

He was beginning to fear he may never be ready.

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, the now familiar scent of his mate drifting across the new summer breeze. You were taking a new path today, he noted in an instant. Perhaps you were doing some exploring.

Padding through the trees, leaves crunched beneath his feet as he leapt over logs and puddles, following after your scent as it grew stronger and stronger. It only took a few moments for him to find you standing atop an elevated rock face, your head lifted as you gazed up at the light scattered between the tree leaves. Your face almost seemed to be glowing in the pale, morning sunshine, your eyes looking like two dewdrops as they curved into tiny crescents. Clay’s heart rattled in his chest, and he resisted the urge to howl to the heavens above.

You were lovely, his mate. If only he could work up the courage to properly tell you.

Basking in the sunlight, he watched as you took a few steps forward closer to the cliff’s edge, your eyes still trained on the sky above. It wasn’t a terribly deep fall, he knew, but the fall was most certainly far enough to hurt someone if they fell at the wrong angle. He narrowed his eyes as you stopped dangerously close to the edge, halting just a few inches from the drop. Surely the stone was strong enough to support your weight, even as old as it was, right?

Apparently not.

Clay saw the cliff crumble before you did.

Terror shot through his body like a bullet as he watched the rock face collapse under your shoes, your feet tumbling out beneath you. Your hands desperately reached for the cliff face, but he could tell from the way your scream cut through the forest’s silence like a sharpened blade that you weren't going to be able to grab it in time.

There was no time for him to think—his body moved first.

In one moment, he was standing with his mouth slack and his emerald eyes blown wide with horror. In the next, he was lunging across the rock face, his jaws wide open as he reached for the lower collar of your shirt. The moment he felt his nose brush against the back of your neck, he snapped his jaws shut, careful not to pierce your skin with his sharp canines as the cloth caught between his teeth. Your weight bounced beneath him once, and the gasp that escaped your lips made his head spin dizzily.

Close—you were so close, and your scent was intoxicating.

You turned your head ever so slightly, and he felt it the moment your eyes locked onto his. You were scared, he could tell, but as you took in the sight of the wolf holding onto you, you almost seemed to relax in his grip. Planting his paws firmly against the rocky earth, he tugged his jaw up and backwards, pulling you away from the cliff face and over even ground. Your hands scrambled to latch onto the cliff edge, helping to pull yourself up until finally, he let go of you, your now torn collar resting against the back of your neck.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you let yourself collapse against the rock face, lying on your back as you gasped for breath. Your chest felt tight like a wound-up spring, and adrenaline pumped through every vein in your body, yet you felt oddly calm. After a minute or two, you slowly pushed yourself forward on your arms until you were just barely slouching forward, looking over your shoulder. A few feet away from you, the wolf stood, his eyes trained intently on your face as you swallowed.

“Um,” you breathed, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Hello?”

He didn’t say anything in return, simply shuffling further away from you. He was giving you space, you realized after a brief moment, and you blinked as you scrambled to sit completely upright. His fur was a soft, golden brown, and you had half the mind to distantly think that you wanted to run your fingers through it. Something about him seemed comforting like that.

“Hi,” you whispered once you were seeing him eye-to-eye. “Ah, um, thank you for saving me.”

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could have sworn his eyes widened in an almost human-like manner. He didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from you, and you swallowed. You thought you would be more scared than this, more terrified of the beast standing before you. But as you sat there, watching as he blinked at you, you felt as though you were anything but. An unfamiliar yet strangely comforting warmth curled around in the pit of your stomach as you tilted your head at the wolf.

He felt so... safe. So familiar, almost like you had met him before.

“Are—are you a nice wolf?” you asked after another moment, your voice faltering the tiniest bit. “I’d like to think you’re a nice wolf, since you just saved my life.”

Once again, you were greeted by silence, the only indication that he had heard you at all being the way his ears flicked. What am I doing? you suddenly thought, your mind running at a million miles a minute. I’m talking to a wolf—an animal. I’m not a Disney character.

This was weird—or at least it was supposed to be. Yet, as you stared at this wolf who simply stared back at you with these bright, stunning green eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that everything in this moment was just perfect. Like you had been waiting your entire life for this moment to happen.

“You’re really pretty,” you suddenly blurted. In an instant, you were slamming your palm over your mouth, your cheeks flooding with heat. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing,” you murmured, your voice coming out muffled. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage like a caged bird begging to be let out, and ever so slowly, you lowered your hands from your mouth, offering the wolf a shaky, sheepish smile. “Um, thank you, again,” you said gently, honestly. Leaning forward, you pressed your hands against the cool stone to balance yourself, your fingers digging into the rock as you spoke. “I don’t really know how you knew I was there or how you knew I was going to fall, but I really appreciate it.”

The wolf blinked at you once more, then took another step back, subtly dipping his head. Your smile widened at the sight. Pushing yourself upward, you rose to your feet, brushing off the dust from your frontside before standing upright, fidgeting almost nervously.

“I—I,” you stammered, suddenly feeling awkward, “I think I’m going to go home now, but...” You swallowed, raising your hand in a small wave as heat rose in your chest. “...thank you so much, again!”

Before the warmth in your heart could burst, you whipped around, sprinting away as fast as your legs could take you. You didn’t see the way the wolf practically crumbled into a ball on the ground, whimpering to himself as you disappeared out of sight.

Bolting down the hill and past the trees, branches blew past you in a blur as you dashed between the trunks and over patches of wildflowers. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears like a beating drum, and your chest felt oddly light. You couldn’t shake the memory of how intense that wolf’s gaze had been on yours, his eyes swirling with something that made your stomach churn and your mouth go dry.

He really was pretty.

Sapnap yawned as he stretched his arm behind his back and above his head, rolling his neck as the joint popped back into place with a satisfying crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in like this, but he did not regret it one bit. Clay had given him the okay, after all. One late morning wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Sapnap, you are not going to believe this.”

Sapnap yelped, whipping around with eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled back a step. The drowsiness left his body in an instant, almost as though he had never been tired to begin with. Clay’s hand shot out to grab his arm, steadying him as he swallowed, relaxing once he realized who he was looking at.

“Holy crap, Clay,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his racing heart, “you scared me! I know you’ve gotten better at this whole stealth thing, but that was just straight up terrifyi—”

Clay’s grip on his arm tightened. “I saved them today,” he whispered.

Sapnap froze, and there was a beat of silence. “You did what, now?”

Just like that, Clay had flung his arms up and around his head, his fingers buried in his hair as he began to pace, his tone frantic and rushed. “There—there was this steeper area with this cliff but it was kind of hidden, and then it was breaking and I just knew something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I moved without thinking and I was pulling them back and—”

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Breathe,” Sapnap instructed calmly. “You need to breathe, dude.” Clay opened his mouth, but Sapnap spoke before he could. “You are talking so quickly right now, and I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Clay closed his mouth, mulling over the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions steamrolling through his head. After a few moments, he finally spoke once more. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, suddenly sounding completely and utterly awestruck. “My mate actually stopped and thanked me. And called me pretty.”

Sapnap’s fingers loosened around Clay’s shoulders, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

Clay sighed, sounding absolutely lovestruck. “Yeah.”

Pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest, Sapnap eyed him up and down, cocking his head. “So,” he began gently, “how are you feeling?” When Clay opened his mouth, Sapnap quickly added, “Slowly, please.”

Clay groaned, teasingly rolling his eyes before leaning back on his heels, rocking back and forth as he began to speak. “I only revealed myself as a wolf,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if they know about the mating bond yet. I don’t even know if humans can feel it like we can.”

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the cerulean blue sky. “But there’s something about the way we looked at each other that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, humans can feel it,” he whispered, sounding breathless all at once. “Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don’t know.” He cast a glance over at Sapnap, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I sound crazy?”

A thoughtful look flickered across Sapnap’s face. Then, he grinned. “A little bit, yeah.”

Clay sighed, something he noticed he had been doing a lot more, lately. “I just…” He swallowed. “I just don’t want something like that to happen ever, ever again.”

Suddenly, he fell quiet, his lips parting as the wheels in his head began to turn. Sapnap watched as a tiny spark came to life within his focused gaze, small but oh-so vibrant.

“You got an idea there?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

Clay blinked once. Twice. Then, a smile stretched across his face—a smile as bright as the full moon.

“Something like that.”

It was probably a dumb idea for you to return to the forest for your weekly hike as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t quite quench the curiosity that bubbled up inside you every time you thought about the wolf who had saved you. His gaze had been fiery, yet compassionate, and he had been purposely so gentle when tugging you away from the cliff. You weren't a fool—you knew how powerful a wolf could be. Then why did he treat you so kindly?

You had to find out.

Marching through the brush and shrubbery, you whipped your head this way and that, scanning every strip of forest you could lay your eyes on. Wolves were good at hiding, you knew that. After all, if they weren’t as stealthy as they were, they would never be able to catch a meal. But you had been hiking for almost an hour now, and you still hadn’t seen a single glimpse of the wolf. You couldn’t say you were completely surprised, since it wasn’t like you knew every inch of the forest, but you were frustrated to admit that you were at least a little disappointed. Maybe this was a lost cause.

But then, you heard it.

The sound of a stick snapping.

Freezing, you paused, turning as you glanced to the sides. Nothing out of the ordinary stood among the bushes. You stopped again, then pursed your lips.

No, something was there.

A tender curiosity sparked between your lungs, but it was coated in a thin layer of reluctance. Sucking in a deep breath, you whipped around, squinting at the seemingly empty trees around you as you opened your mouth.

“Wolf?” you called out slowly into the quiet. “Is that you?”

At first, all was quiet, and you held your breath. The leaves rustled around you almost tauntingly, and you distantly heard the caw of a crow. You were just about to give up and go home when a flash of gold caught your eye.

Standing motionless a single yard away was a wolf—your wolf.

A grin stretched across your face, joy surging through your body as you carefully took a few steps forward. Oh, this was definitely a dumb idea, but you was more than brave enough to keep going.

“Hi, there.” You shuffled your feet, a tentative look passing over your face. “You’re, um—” You gulped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. No! he thought, hoping you would be able to read his expression, even as a wolf. Never. Not in a million years.

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as you scanned his face up and down. Then, your lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

“No,” you murmured in the softest of voices, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. “If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Clay nearly sank in relief, and he barked. You raised a brow at the sound, furrowing your brows slightly. “Do you want me to keep you company?” you asked, beginning to walk up to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

You had only made it a few steps when he suddenly barked again, taking a step toward you. In an instant, you froze, watching with bated breath as he curled around to your other side and gently nudged at your leg with his nose. You shot him a curious glance, stumbling forward the tiniest bit. “Hey,” you said, “what are you...?”

You trailed off, a cut rock face suddenly catching your attention from the corner of your eye. The stony grey wall was nearly perpendicular to the ground and looked almost eerily similar to the one you had nearly fallen down the week prior. Just like that, it clicked.

There was another small cliff right there. He was trying to keep you away from it.

“Oh,” you breathed, your lips splitting into an even wider grin as you made sure to steer away from the short cliff, “you don’t want me falling again, do you?”

He snorted, and you blinked at him. That sounded far more human this time—almost too human. It almost reminded you of a dog, if anything. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto your face, and with your head held high, you turned on your heel, marching onward and away from the rock face.

“Well, wolf,” you said, a teasing arrogance seeping into your tone as you glanced over your shoulder at him, “I promise you that I’ll be much safer this time arou—woah!”

The toe of your shoe caught on a protruding stone, and with a sharp yelp, you stumbled forward, gravity pulling you downward with a harsh pull. With a flail of your arms, you only just barely caught your balance as your hand shot out to grab onto a tree and steady yourself. Your heart flipped in your chest as you planted your feet firmly against the ground, the soles of your shoes pressed flatly against the earth as your fingers curled into the bark. Your chest heaved with surprise as you stood upright, turning to look over your shoulder at the wolf. He blinked at you, and while you knew wolves couldn’t quite smile, something about his gaze almost seemed cocky—like he was laughing at you. Heat crept up your neck and onto your face, your cheeks bursting with warmth.

“Y-You did not see that,” you sputtered, coughing into your sleeve as you brushed off your pants dismissively.

Almost as if to spare you some embarrassment, he turned his head away from you, although you could see his eyes glance your way every few seconds. Pouting, you huffed, whirling on your feet as you continued to trudge down the path. Soon enough, the sound of soft footsteps trailed after you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that he would follow you even if you weren't looking.

That night, you dreamt of whispering trees and a pair of bright, viridian green eyes.

What had once been a weekly ritual of watching from afar soon turned into an amicable companionship between human and wolf. You weren't afraid as you walked into the woods to see a familiar pair of eyes waiting for you, your eagerness to see him only growing with each passing week. Clay himself could hardly contain his excitement. Actually walking beside you was so much better than simply watching from the woods, hidden by the trees. He loved your company and absolutely basked in your presence, even if you sent his heart into an absolute frenzy.

“Sometimes,” you said aloud one day, “I really do think you can understand me.”

Clay stiffened, praying you wouldn’t notice the way his ears pressed flat against his head as he turned to look at you. You sat on a tree stump while he padded atop the fallen trunk it sat beside, your gleaming gaze slowly blinking at him as he silently circled around you.

“I think it’s got something to do with the way you react to some of the things I say,” you murmured. You watched the way his tail flicked behind him, the soft fur brushing gently against the low-growing plants. A second later, you sighed, waving your hand. “Ah, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Clay nearly heaved a sigh of relief, continuing to pace. You would say surprising things like that every once in a while, and it would send his heart racing. Well, you usually only said one absurd thing per week, so you probably weren’t going to say another thing like that toda—

“Can I pet you?”

His paws came to a halt. Perhaps he thought too soon.

Before he could even properly process what you had said, You were backpedaling, shaking your head with an apologetic look. “Agh, that’s a terrible question. You’re a wolf, not a dog. There’s no way you wou—”

All of a sudden, he was crawling up to you, jutting his forehead toward your hand. His muzzle was clamped shut as his eyes bore into yours, and you gaped at him, the realization beginning to dawn on you.

“Wait,” you breathed in disbelief, “you’re actually going to let me?”

He didn’t move, lowering his eyes to the ground almost shyly as his ears curled toward you. Slowly, you raised your arm with a shaky hand and reached forward, letting your fingers gently brush over his tawny fur with a feather-light touch. You nearly gasped at the feeling, not noticing the way his legs trembled beneath him.

“Wolf,” you whispered after a few seconds, “you’re really soft.”

Clay nearly combusted on the spot. Perfect—everything about you was just perfect.

With your hand buried in his soft fur and the summer breeze ruffling your hair, You smiled, sighing with warmth lighting up your heart as the wolf at your feet melted beneath your touch.

Sapnap tapped his foot impatiently, squinting up at the glaring sun. George slept in, again. He was kind of used to it now, but even though he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than just a little ticked off.

“My mate pet me today.”

Sapnap tensed for a split second, turning to see Clay staring at him with wide eyes. Relaxing once more, he stared at him for a long, long moment before speaking. He really needed to start giving him some sort of heads up at this point.

“Dude,” he said, “I know that the last time you asked me if you sounded crazy, I said a little bit, but I feel like I might have to change my answer.”

Clay shot him a glare, and he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. “Sapnap,” he said bluntly, “you act like you don’t talk about Karl and Alex like this.”

Sapnap looked taken aback for a moment, raising a finger, then lowering it with a defeated look. “Touché.”

As Clay walked off with his head held high and a bounce in his step, Sapnap chuckled, watching him leave with a small smile. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, the rosy hue of his cheeks.

Love—Clay really was in love, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been thinking,” you said one day, a few months later.

Clay perked up at the sound of your voice from where he lay at your feet, soaking in the first few rays of sun. It had been well over a year since he had first laid eyes on you now, and a little over a few months since you began walking together. It was only a matter of time until the leaves would turn golden brown once more as autumn descended upon them.

“I dunno,” you murmured, knocking your legs back against the stone you sat on. “I feel like I should give you a name instead of just calling you wolf all the time.” You flashed him a shy grin, your gaze darting this way and that. “It feels kind of awkward, you know?”

He cocked his head. A name? Chances were you probably weren't going to guess his actual name. He supposed he wouldn’t mind a nickname. Then again, he didn’t think he would mind anything that you might do. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he let out a quiet bark of approval.

Your lips twitched the tiniest bit at the sound, and you hummed, drumming your fingers against your thigh. “How do you feel about... Aaron?”

His emerald eyes flashed as he took a step back, ducking his head the slightest bit. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and you leaned down to rest your chin on your hand. “Alright,” you murmured, “not Aaron, then.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a second. “Roy?”

Clay didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second before he was whimpering, pressing his head to his paws as he dropped his haunches close to the ground. You snorted at his obvious disapproval, tapping the toes of your shoes together with a pensive look.

“Okay,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound, “maybe we should try some less... human-sounding names.” You tilted your head, letting your gaze trail up the tree trunks and up at the sky above. The sun wasn’t shining directly into your eyes this time, and you blinked with surprise to see a puff of white fluff blocking out the light.

“What about,” you offered with a hum, “Cloud?”

You glanced down again, only to see the wolf staring back at you blankly. You couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite satisfied with this one, either. Lowering your chin, you puffed your cheeks, glancing this way and that across the forest around you. You couldn’t just call him something like Leaf, or Sky—those would be too obvious, too plain for a wolf as lovely as him.

Sighing, you let your eyelids flutter shut, letting the sun wash over your cheeks and warming your skin. He was... special, even if you knew you were biased in your opinion. There was some special quality about him, something that made your chest swell and your heart skip a beat, almost as if he came straight out of a—

“Dream,” you whispered at last.

Clay’s ears perked up at the new name, and he lifted his head, flicking his ears at you. Maybe it was the name itself, maybe it was the way you said it, or maybe it was just you, but something about it just felt right. He barked once, lifting his tail as he stepped toward you.

You blinked at the sight, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Dream?” you repeated. “You like the sound of Dream?”

He barked again, leaping up onto his hind legs for a moment. You grinned, giggling at the sight of such a large wolf acting almost like a dog around you. “Alright,” you murmured, reaching your hand out toward him, “Dream it is.”

Leaning closer to you, he sank into your touch as you rubbed your hand over his head, scratching behind his ears as he let out a soft whine from the back of his throat. Your eyes softened, and you curled your knees a little closer to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“It probably doesn’t matter to you since you’re a wolf and all,” you said softly, your voice almost sounding shy in the quiet of the morning, “but my name is [Y/N].”

Clay felt a tender warmth blossom in the cracks beneath his chest, heat unfurling from the depths of his soul as something inside him swelled beyond belief. Your hand continued stroking his fur all the while, not at all noticing the way he pressed his head a little closer into your soothing touch, yearning and longing for more.

“[Y/N],” his heart sang, shooting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. “[Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N].”

Had a name ever sounded as beautiful as yours?

Sapnap was going to wring Skeppy’s neck. Skipping out on a morning meeting was one thing, but skipping it to hang out with your mate? Not even he did that.

“[Y/N].”

Sapnap didn’t bother flinching as he turned to see Clay standing in front of him, panting like his life depended on it. This was far from the first time this had happened, and he was sure it most certainly would not be the last. “What?”

Clay shook his head, half-looking like he was about to collapse on the spot. “My mate’s name is [Y/N].”

Sapnap blinked, then his lips curled up into a smile. “Congrats for learning what it is, man,” he said honestly, patting Clay’s shoulder with his free hand. “That’s fantastic, really. You’re making progress.”

Clay swallowed, and he reached up to drag a hand down his face before letting it drop loosely at his side. “Sapnap,” he said slowly, his voice sounding quiet and raw, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows knit together, confusion rippling across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You can’t keep visiting?” Something uncomfortable and cold tugged at the back of his mind. “There’s no way you’re just gonna give up like that, are you?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I mean that...” He paused, squeezing his fist for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can keep showing up in only my wolf form.”

The cogs in Sapnap’s whirred to life as he took in his friend’s clenched jaw. Then, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying...?”

Clay nodded, pursing his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to reveal who I am.”

His eyes flashed with determination.

“Who I really am.”

You hummed as you twisted the key in the hole, the back door locking shut with a click you had grown used to hearing every week for the past year and a half, now. Whirling around, you could already feel the smile start to spread across your face as you leapt off the porch and ran toward the well-worn path, the forest beckoning you forward with a distant howl. You didn’t remember when exactly your weekly hikes grew to become your favourite part of the week, but you couldn’t imagine life without them, anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest swelled at the fresh air rushing into your lungs, excitement flickering through your body with every step you took. You couldn’t wait to see Dream again, as strange as it may sound. He had grown to be a greater comfort than you would have ever imagined, even if he was just a wolf. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew your feelings were true—you couldn’t deny the warmth he made you feel.

Whipping around a tree trunk, you felt your heart skip a beat. You already knew Dream would be waiting for you at your rock—the one he had saved you from all those weeks ago. It had become a sort of meeting spot for them, and every week without fail, he would appear there, no matter how early or late you were.

As the shrubbery gave way to a clean, dirt trail, you lifted your head, squinting your eyes. You recognized this part of the forest, and you knew that you were getting closer. Just then, you saw it—the familiar streak of grey stone slanting up from the earth in a small cliff face. Usually, Dream would sit at the cliff base, his ears already pointed toward you. But today, your brows furrowed when you didn’t see a pair of ears facing you, but a head of hair.

Someone else was at your rock.

Slowing your pace to a walk, you paused for a moment, eyeing the figure sitting at your usual meeting spot. It was a man, you realized, and he was facing away from you. He wore a simple white shirt with jeans, and his hair was a shade of dirty blond with streaks of gold. Even if only from the back, it looked almost oddly familiar gleaming underneath the morning sun.

Taking a tentative step forward, you curled your fingers into your palm. “Hello?” you called hesitantly.

The man startled for a moment, then turned toward you, his face coming into view. As his gaze locked onto yours, he opened his mouth and uttered two simple words.

“Hi, [Y/N].”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

His voice was soft, gently wrapping around you like a soothing blanket. Your gaze only briefly raked over the comforting smile gracing his lips, instead focusing on the gleam in his eyes that danced with something warm and inviting.

His eyes were green—a shade of green that you had grown to know and adore.

No, you thought, your heart trembling in your chest. He couldn’t possibly be...

You took another step forward, closing the space between them by another few inches. With your eyebrows knitting together, your voice dropped to a small, curious whisper. “Dream?”

He shot you a crooked grin, chuckling softly. “That’s my name—or at least the one you gave me.” Leaning forward, he rose to his feet, the sun casting a bright streak of light across his cheeks. “My real name is Clay.”

All of a sudden, you felt as though all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. “Clay,” you repeated, your mind slowly growing murky with confusion, “but you’re also Dream. How...?”

A sheepish look skittered across his face, and he ducked his head. The way he lowered his chin was familiar, looking almost far too like a certain wolf you knew. “I—I guess you could say I live in two worlds with two forms,” he began. “Sometimes I’m a wolf, sometimes I’m a human.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders remained tense. “You already know one of them, but I didn’t want to keep hiding this form from you, so...” He gestured to himself with a bashful look. “...here I am.”

You blinked at him slowly, the muddled fog in your head slowly giving way to a strikingly warm clarity. But before the clouds could fully part, your lips began to move.

“You’re still pretty,” you blurted, your eyes going wide as soon as the words left your mouth.

In a flash, Clay’s cheeks flushed crimson, a haze of rosy pink dusting his freckles. “H-Huh?”

Waving your hands in front of you, you took a step back, embarrassment shooting up your spine. “I-I mean to say that you’re still pretty as a human! Because you’re pretty in both of your forms!” You stiffened, exasperation soaking your features as your knees buckled. “Wait, no, oh no, that’s also embarrassing... wait, please, um—”

Suddenly, he began to laugh. You fell quiet as you watched Clay clutch at his stomach, his lips split into a wide grin as peals of laughter tumbled from his lips. A familiar pit of warmth flared up in your stomach, one you had felt standing here with Dream so many times before.

He really was Dream, wasn’t he?

As his chuckles finally died down into silence, he stood upright once more, wiping a barely there tear from his eye. “I’m sorry for laughing,” he managed with an apologetic smile. “You must be confused about, well, everything.”

You offered him an honest, lopsided grin. “A little.”

His smile slowly melted from his features, and he cleared his throat as he turned to face you head-on. “Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but you and I...” He swallowed, his gaze flashing. “We’re mates.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise. Something in your chest slowly expanded. “Mates?” you repeated softly.

He nodded, his expression firm yet hesitant. “Yes, mates. It means that in one way or another, our souls are connected.” Inhaling deeply, he screwed his eyes shut before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to accept the mating bond.” His voice was trembling now, growing quieter by the second as he squeezed his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this must be scary for you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured because of m—”

“I’m not afraid.”

Clay’s eyes shot wide open, and he raised his head, shock etched into his features. “You aren’t?” he whispered.

The smile on your face was open and kind, and you shook your head. “No,” you murmured, sincerity lacing your every word. “Not at all. Dream, Clay... no matter what your name is, you’re still you, and I know you.” You took another step forward, your eyes never leaving his. There was hardly any space between them now, and Clay could feel his shoulders begin to shake with the sheer gravity of the moment. “I can’t explain it, but I just know I do.”

He swallowed, a whirlwind of anxiety and affection brewing just beneath the surface of his skin. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I’m just a stranger to you.”

You shook your head, again. “You’re not,” you said quietly. “Not to me.”

Before he could even register what was happening, you were reaching for his hand, clasping your palms around his fingers and holding them gently. His heart flipped in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his, and something stung at the back of his eyes.

You were so warm.

“I want to do this,” you whispered, just for him to hear and him alone, “I promise. I—” You gulped, your gaze remaining steady. “I might not know anything about your world yet, but I want to learn.”

You squeezed his hand. “I want to learn more about you.”

Clay sucked in a ragged breath. With shaky fingers and a gentle touch, he pressed his other hand to the back of yours, squeezing back ever so slightly. “I want to learn more about you, too.”

The smile you flashed him easily outshone the sun and every star that scattered across the night sky, and for a moment, he thought his heart had stopped in his chest.

“I’m glad,” you said, your eyes gleaming with delight. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to do that on our hike.”

Right then, a breeze came drifting past, the distant scent of rain filling the air. The trees murmured with rustling leaves and flapping wings as two birds landed on a hanging branch above, gazing down at the two silhouettes standing at the base of the rock face. Just for a moment, or maybe even two, the entire forest went still.

And unbeknownst to you and Clay, right between your feet, a flower began to bloom.

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animatedrapture · 3 years

Text

RINTOBER: [Greet Me With Goodbye]

suna rintarō x reader

word count: 2k

tags: bandmember!suna, angst, implied cheating, toxic relationship, post-breakup, smoking

song: 505 - arctic monkeys

a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIC WHILE LISTENING TO THIS. thank you mous for beta-reading this for me <3

The lights were near blinding as you stood behind the large crowd, having opted to stay where you can only see enough and be barely seen from the front of the stage where he stood.

The start of the song is what causes goosebumps against your skin—like it wants to take your breath away, and if you weren’t having trouble breathing before, you definitely were when you heard his voice again—booming and deep as he sang the first verse of the song. Your heart aches when you remember the first time you heard it, nowhere near finished then.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck?” You read the lyrics out, intrigued, and you look back up to him. His gaze holds yours with unparalleled tenderness behind the gloss of his eyes. You cock an eyebrow at him with an amused smile.

“Reminded me a lot about you when we first started trying to figure the lyrics out,” Suna answered with nonchalance, nodding at the paper held between your fingertips as if to tell you to continue reading through it.

“You’re not wrong,” you commented, humming in thought. “I’d still adore you with your hands around my neck, Rintarou.”

Suna grins, a glint in his eyes evident. Maybe because he knew, even without you telling him. He knew you adored him to a sinful extent.

The cheers and audience singing along to the sound of his voice were loud, but the thunderous beating of your heart was louder. So much louder. That’s when you think that maybe you shouldn’t have come here, you shouldn’t have let your friends convince you to stand directly in front of him yet stand so far away as if you were hiding. Well, perhaps you really were hiding; you could definitely step forward, see his face with a thin sheen of sweat, strumming along the guitar that hung around his torso—God, his torso—and his hair slightly covering the pair of eyes you’ve loved so deeply for a long time. His pretty face looked ethereal from where you stood, the beaming lights surrounding the stage accentuating everything that made him who he was, Suna Rintarou.

Suna’s thumb grazes your lower lip, swiping lightly with his intense gaze locked with yours. It’s hypnotizing like always. Suna’s green eyes—heavily lidded that it made him all the more pretty, all the more breathtaking—set on you as you sat on his lap, the blunt tucked in between the fingers of his other hand emitting smoke that invaded your lungs like he invaded the entirety of your mind.

You can’t look away, not even when he takes a drag of it directly in front of you—it’s frustrating how oddly seducing it was to watch him, your eyes following the way he inhaled the smoke that was toxic to his lungs like he was toxic to your own heart, poison to your own mind, venom in your bloodstream.

His lips find yours immediately, his hand that was on your face moving to the inside of your thighs and it’s enough to make you gasp—your lips parting against his as he blows out the smoke to your mouth and you inhale.

You inhale because it was more like taking him in your system than the smoke that was toxic for your lungs, poison to your mind, venom in your bloodstream.

You inhale and take him in your system. Yet you never would’ve thought he’d vanish like the same smoke going up in the air until you see it no more.

“Not shy of a spark, the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,” You wish you were imagining it, the heavy drip of pain and contempt laced in his voice as he sang the words out. He sings like it’s flashing all in his head, every fight you both had—because it’s coming back to you too like a ton of bricks.

Or maybe the sensation of it all coming back to you is more like what the lyrics he sang suggests already, a knife to the chest so deep that there’s simply no way you’d survive from it—no way a relationship could survive from it. The knife to your chest is dug deep enough; how do you live when it’s twisted and turned so sadistically?

“You’re late again,” you mutter, sighing in exhaustion as you looked back at Suna who sat across from you from the table of the restaurant. It was your date night, scheduled already weeks before—yet he came in late—an hour late to be exact. An hour you spent giving tight lipped smiles to everyone’s gazes who fell on you near the middle of the restaurant as you waited, an hour spent smiling politely as you answered waiters who came near you asking if you’re ready to order.

An hour spent wondering why this isn’t the first nor second time he left you waiting on nights that should’ve been about the both of you.

“Look, I’m sorry, yeah?” He quipped, not bothering to even spare you a glance.

He eyes the menu while your eyes begin to sting as you hold back your tears. You want to burst, to say something—anything. Anything that would take his attention, anything that would finally tell him you can’t keep doing this.

“You don’t seem sorry, Rin,” you reply silently, gaze steady on his figure still looking through the menu. He finally looks up at you, exasperation fully evident in his features.

“What’d ya want me to say? I just ran a lil late, alright?” He snapped, the menu falling harshly down the table from his grip.

“You’ve been running a little late for months now—I’m tired of it,” your voice sounds weak, defeated. This is something you didn’t know was like knife twisted into Suna Rintarou’s heart.

“If you’re tired, then leave,” his voice was cold to a scalding degree.

Maybe the mistake was that you didn’t leave that night. That you continued something that you both should’ve tried to end that night—or at least attempted to. You didn’t know this either, but had you attempted to leave, Suna was bound to chase after you and engulf you in his arms.

But you didn’t.

“I'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

Every beat of the song felt like a kick with the kind of ache you felt against your chest that seemed so constricting. It’s like you’re inhaling the same smoke from his lungs again, choking you with it.

You’re not sure how it happens, nor does it register in time when bright lights fall just where you stood—not in a dramatic sense like those god-forsaken clichéd romance novels—but simply out of coincidence. Come to think of it, had you stepped forward, you wouldn’t have been there, completely visible in his line of sight when his narrowed eyes zero on you in the crowd so easily as if you were magnet to his gaze, still.

That could’ve been the case before. But not anymore.

Not anymore, you ponder. If you hadn’t walked away and pulled from his embrace that day, would things have been different? He’s standing on a bigger stage now; oddly enough, you also heard he’s had more control of his schedule since. It’s been so long since the last time he’s seen you, been so long since he woke up to an empty bed—your warmth gone and your lingering scent on the sheets faint as if you were barely there to begin with.

Just like that, he wished he could take it all back.

The sound of Suna’s phone felt nagging and relentless. The more days passed, the more it was louder, the more his eyes remained trained on his phone.

His fidelity remained unquestioned even as your relationship with him turned disastrously strained from all the hours you’ve spent waiting, all the days you’ve spent without him, all the replies you never received—all your messages left on read like you’re looking at Suna Rintarou, your own boyfriend, through a static screen.

He continued to fall short and break your heart little by little but knowing he loved you beyond his actions was something you wholeheartedly believed; because his eyes staring back at you remained both tender and fiery like golden balance of true love.

Yet maybe you were wrong.

The final straw is the way your eyes follow the string of messages between Suna and another girl you’ve forced yourself to forget the name of. Your gaze lingers and wallow at the provocative pictures of the woman, enough to make you wonder where you lacked—where you came short.

You wished it was only that which set you apart piece by piece like a puzzle being undone and someone else stealing the pieces of yourself you thought you gave to the man you can trust those pieces with to safe-keep.

But the blue bubble saying, “Meet me in a few minutes,” on one of the nights he came late—bright blue and blinding enough to make you want to gauge your eyes out—and the following, “I’m here, where are you?” burns in the back of your head like his lit up cigarettes against your skin so fervently.

That day, little by little, you packed your things in the most discreet of ways; sure, it should’ve probably taken a lot before Suna would have noticed when he’s barely home with you—but you remained scared that he would notice and you wouldn’t say no if he asked you to stay, because that’s how much Suna had you—line, hook, and sinker.

You take one tentative step back, but your legs feel restrained and paralyzed underneath you when Suna’s eyes lock with yours, meters apart, but you would be lying if you said it’s an illusion when his eyes glimmer the same way—tender and fiery.

“But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you’d have to greet me with goodbye,” his voice sounds so much louder, so much heavier—especially with his eyes trained on you as he sang the lyrics out without waver.

Your heart swells and you think, it’s unfair. It’s unfair that his eyes looked as if he was pleading for you not to go the same way you knew he would’ve had he only known you were leaving him that day.

Suna was worn-out. Tired beyond effable means or description of words; and he thinks he couldn’t be more exhausted when he rattles on the doorknob of the home you shared with him, the place he came home to with you—only to find it locked. He’s too exhausted to notice the way the house felt emptier, seemed emptier like something—someone was missing when he pushes the key in and enters the place.

Suna was too exhausted to think you’d be gone forever; too drained to ever consider that it’ll take a year since that day before he sees you again.

Suna was too exhausted to notice the letter you left on the bedside table; too exhausted to notice you’ve been gone for a week until he comes home again for a break, only for his heart to break at the sight of the empty house. Empty; defined as: without you

You don’t notice the tears cascading down your cheeks until you see the way Suna’s eyebrows furrowed together from the stage he stood on as he continued to sing, never once taking his eyes off of you, like he’s hurting from the way he watches you cry.

“I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon.” The ring placed as a pendant on the necklace around Suna’s neck glistened under the strobe lights dancing around suddenly felt heavier—so much heavier, as if it’s you who has your hands around his neck.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you do; because Suna runs off of the stage the moment the last beat of his lyrics come as he sees you finally looking away. Your figure slowly dimming away as the lights calm down to the beat of the song slowly dwindling away like you did—but never like the fire that burned in your chest at the sight of him.

You wish you could run but every step you took felt like you had boulders weighing down on your feet; as if no part of you wanted to go—and maybe that’s the miracle that Suna will forever thank whatever deity is out there for, because without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to you as you attempted to drag your body and walk away, trying not to look back.

📞 violet is calling… all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#suna x reader #suna #Suna Rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #suna angst #hq suna #suna x you #RINTOBER

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90stvshowgoth · 3 years

Text

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

#hisoka x reader #hisoka x reader smut #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow x reader smut #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hxh #hunter x hunter

477 notes · View notes

lunarbuck · 2 years

Text

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

moodboard is just for vibes, not what reader looks like!

11. Smoke

Pairing: Guard!Bucky x Princess!reader

WC: 3.5k

Sneak Peek: i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)

Warnings/Tags: none that I can think of

series masterlist ☁ / ao3

AN: Thank you so much for all the love on this fic, it means the world to me <3 please let me know what you think!

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

Chapter 10 / Chapter 12

James

I hold her close to me, pressing her body to mine, and kiss her. My lips against hers tell her all she needs to know, that I love her. I love her more than life, than breathing, than anything. The rain is unrelenting and chills me to my bones, but the warmth of Y/N against me is enough to keep me from shivering. She warms me to my bones, setting me alight from the inside. When we finally pull apart, gasping for breath, I can’t help but smile. I step away from her and hold her at arm’s length. She gives me a quizzical look, but I know exactly what I’m doing.

I hear the music in my mind, a gentle waltz, and I dance with her—spinning, stepping, and gliding across our small spot on the sand. Y/N laughs, and I swear it is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. We dance as thunder slams in the distance, but neither of us are focused on that. Her eyes never leave mine.

As the storm gets closer and closer, I pull Y/N away from the beach and back toward the car. I’ll never hear the end of it if she wakes up in the morning with a cold. Despite her protests, I eventually am able to get her back into the car. Instead of sitting in the back like she usually would, this time, she sits in the passenger seat beside me. It makes me feel better that she’s willing to break little protocols like that. I try not to think about how we will tell her father and Loki that she won’t marry the prince. Those thoughts are for another time.

When I pull through the gates of the palace property, Y/N begins to shake her head. It’s clear she isn’t ready to end the night. She doesn’t want to face reality. I don’t want to let her go either, so I take a turn down the road and drive toward the little house I stay in. I park out front and quickly make my way to her side of the car, opening her door and covering her as best as I can from the rain as we make our way into my home. It’s small, but I’ve done my best to make it feel comfortable.

Seeing her in my home sparks something in me. For the entire time I’ve known Y/N, I have been on her territory, in her library, in her spots. Now she’s here, surrounded by my things as if she were made to be here. It’s perfect, and it makes my heart swell. Y/N takes it all in and looks at my belongings so carefully. Even though she’s the person that knows me best, she’s never seen this part of me, and now that she finally has, I never want to hide it again.

Y/N doesn’t realize how beautiful she is, how her presence awakens something in everyone she is around. Her eyes find kindness in everyone she sees. Her fingers comfort even the hardest of hearts. I want to wrap her up and protect her, hide her from the people who want to hurt her, but I know that that’s not what she wants. She is stronger than that. Hell, she’s probably stronger than me. The world doesn’t deserve her kindness, but I’ll let her give them her light.

“He was my North, my South, my East and West. My working week and my Sunday rest,” she whispers, running a finger along the page of a book I’d left open. I watch as she reads the rest of the poem, mouthing the words to herself as if she had forgotten that I was there. Wrapped up in her thoughts. She turns the page and begins to read another poem when she feels my eyes on her. I grin, and Y/N gives me a shy smile. I wish I could bottle the way her smile makes me feel.

“Have you ever written any of your own poems?” I ask quietly, stepping toward her. The Princess tucks her hair behind her ear and drops her eyes. I know she’s private about her creations when it comes to art.

“Every time I try, it sounds horrible. My sister has the writing gift. I just prefer reading other people’s words.” I nod and wrap her in my arms, holding her close. In the short amount of time Y/N has been in my life, she has filled my world with her sounds. Whenever I read something, I read it with her voice, the timbre of her laughter, the sarcastic turns of phrase.

“I bet it’s beautiful, Princess,” I whisper into her hair. She smells like rain and something sweet, something so distinctly her. I pull her toward the fireplace and light it, allowing warmth to flow through my home. Y/N plops down in front of it and warms her hands. Her movement causes the light to catch on her ring, and even though it isn’t very bright, it blinds me. Maybe it’s rage rather than the light, but either way, I’m immediately doused in anger. I must make a noise because the Princess turns around and sees the look on my face. I stare down at the ring, nearly hypnotized by it. She glances down at her hand, and her eyes go wide at the realization that she’s still wearing it. After a few moments of silence, Y/N opens her mouth as if to speak but decides against it. Instead, she twists the ring on her finger and tries to slide it off, but it won’t budge.

“I can’t-- it won’t--” She’s struggling against the ring, fighting with it, but nothing works. It’s as if it is part of her finger now. I drop down beside her and take her hand in mine. I notice that I can twist the ring on her finger, and there is a little wiggle room, but the ring refuses to go past the first joint on her finger.

“What did he do to you?” I whisper as I let her hand fall. The ring doesn’t budge, and I know there’s nothing else I can do. We sit side by side and stare into the fire, all of the happiness from the earlier moments gone. I can only think of her impending marriage to Loki. Even though Y/N told me she wouldn’t marry him, nothing was set in stone. She still has to go tell her father, and we have to come up with a plan to placate the prince. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it for her.

“I’m sorry,” she says after many long minutes of silence. It’s written all over her face, the confusion of her situation. I wish I could take it all away, make her life simpler, but all I’ve managed to do is complicate everything.

“Don’t apologize, Princess. You did what your father wanted. There’s nothing to apologize for.” Y/N shakes her head but doesn’t fight me on what I’ve said. Instead, she leans against me and tucks herself into my chest. She fits there perfectly, and I hold her tightly, afraid that if I let go, she’ll get pulled away by the wind.

“Can you read me something?” She asks quietly. Reading her the Two-Headed Calf poem the other day was impulsive on my part. I’ve never been the most confident reader. It felt like the right thing at the moment. Now, having her ask me for that again makes my heart squeeze. Ever since the first day she’d read to me, her voice has comforted me. Maybe my voice does the same to her. I nod, and she leans more of her weight into me. I already know what poem I will read to her, well recite, because I have memorized it by now from reading it so often.

“[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] by E. E. Cummings,” I say as her eyes flutter shut.

“i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you”. I pause and watch as Y/N’s breath catches in her chest, anticipating the next words. As I begin to speak again, she whispers them along with me.

“here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”.

I wake early the following day and set my plan in motion. After escorting the Princess back to the castle late last night, I realized that it would be nearly impossible to convince the King not to marry the Princess off without some alternative. His motivation for marrying off Y/N is because Astrines needs the support of another country. If I am going to try to persuade him not to send her away, I need to find a way to solve his problem.

The suitors are all out, enjoying the warm weather, so I easily find the men I’m looking for. Steven is predictably in the stables enjoying the company of the horses, and surprisingly, Sam is with him. They are both confused by my presence, but it will be another few hours before the Princess wakes, so I do not need to be with her until then.

“James, it’s good to see you,” Sam says, shooting me a polite smile. He has a different smile for everyone, and the one for me seems to be the most reserved. At times, I envy his smile for the Princess. I wish I could look at her like that.

“Yes, good to see you. I’ve been looking for the two of you.” Steven gives me a strange look but turns his attention away from the horses over to me. I came up with a plan before finding the men, but now standing in front of them makes the magnitude of the situation much more noticeable.

“Is this about the Princess? Is everything okay?” Steven asks, clearly jumping to horrible conclusions. The look on my face must not be too comforting because Sam too looks clearly concerned.

“I can’t let Y/N marry Loki. I just can’t. I don’t need to explain myself to you but--”

“You love her,” Steven says with a small smile. My jaw ticks and I try to steel myself, but Sam and Steven can see right through me. The way Sam waggles his eyebrows with me tells me that he’s known for a while.

“There are plenty of reasons why the Princess can’t mary Loki,” I tell them about the strange feelings I get around Loki, the way the Princess acts, the ring. As I speak, their expressions shift into ones of understanding. They’ve noticed as well. The more I tell them of my suspicions of Loki, the more I wish I had told someone earlier. Maybe I could’ve prevented the proposal. Maybe I could’ve convinced the King not to marry Y/N to a prince.

“So, what’s your plan, Barnes?” Sam asks, crossing his arms over his chest. This is the part that they might not go along with. I’m not even sure if the King will accept it, but I have to try.

“Astrines needs the support of another country, right? That’s the whole point of the courting process for the Princess. The King was unable to secure an alliance without marriage, but that was when he was only organizing with the other kings.” I wait a moment to let my words sink in. I can practically see the gears turning in Sam and Steven’s heads. “If one of you agrees to join your land with Astrines, no marriage necessary, we might be able to keep Y/N from marrying Loki.” Steven’s eyes go wide, but Sam just nods.

“The King doesn’t know about this, does he?” Sam asks, rubbing his jaw with his hand. I shake my head. I couldn’t bring this to the King until I had a fully fleshed-out plan.

“Our fathers would have to agree as well,” Steven adds. “Though since neither of us are returning to our countries with wives, I imagine this merger will still be significant.” A grin begins to creep onto my face. I was hoping they would come to that conclusion. This would leave both princes to marry whomever they want as well as grow their kingdoms. Even though Astrines is financially struggling, the land is still plentiful and full of resources. No one would be losing in this situation other than Loki, but I’m not too worried about his feelings.

“And Rumlow?” My eyes flit back to Sam, he’s trying to think of every possible outcome, but I’ve already gone down this road.

“Loki is using him whether he realizes it or not. My men have noticed them having meetings and acting strangely around one another. I am not extending this offer to him. I don’t trust him.” Both men nod and take a few moments to think. I hate standing still, so I pace around a bit, trying not to show how nervous I am. If neither of them is willing to merge their countries with Astrines, I will have nothing to go to the King with. I technically could ask Rumlow, but the thought of Tedral seeping into this beautiful country makes me want to vomit. I won’t have the Princess anywhere near their foul King if I can help it.

“When do you need a decision?” Steven asked, bringing my attention back to the present. That’s the tricky part. The wedding is supposed to take place in three days. We have three days to find a solution, or Y/N will be married to Loki.

“Ideally, the end of the day, but at the latest, tomorrow. I don’t want to go to the King with this the day of the wedding. We need more time.” Both men nod, and we discuss final details before I send them on their way. I check my watch; it’s about when the Princess should be waking up and getting ready for the day. I’m supposed to meet her at breakfast, Winnifred has wedding dresses and decorations picked out that the Princess needs to go over. The King insisted that I attend the wedding planning, stating that I should be involved in the whole ordeal since I am to be guarding the wedding.

I sit in the dining room and wait for the Princess to join me when Loki waltzes in. He takes a seat across from me, and I try not to glare too hard at him. I turn my attention back to my book, but Loki isn’t having it. He wants my attention or to get on my nerves.

“Good morning, James,” he says brightly, but I can tell it’s fake. Loki gives me his crooked smirk, and my lip curls.

“Good morning, Loki,” I reply, trying to keep my voice level. Seemingly satisfied with my response, Loki pulls a book from his pocket. He’s reading something by Jane Austin, and it surprises me a bit to see him still trying to woo Y/N even though he already has a ring on her finger. Part of me expected him just to drop the act the second they got engaged.

“I hear you’re going to be helping out with wedding planning. I am quite looking forward to the event.” He doesn’t look up at me but instead speaks into the pages of his book. I try not to stare at him, but there’s something so off about him this morning. It’s as if he isn’t quite present. Not fully here. I feel like if I were to reach out and touch him, my hand would go straight through. “Yes, the King knows I take these events very seriously.” I feign indifference and focus on the words in front of me. The tension in the room is thick, but I’m sure Loki doesn’t care. A creak in the floorboards signals the Princess’s entrance into the dining room. Loki and I both stand to greet her, but I hold myself back from going to her. It isn’t my place. She looks at me, and her eyes tell me all I need to know as Loki approaches her. He pulls her into a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. This level of affection is very uncouth, but since it’s just the three of us, Loki must feel fine breaking the rules.

“My dove, I was hoping to catch you this morning before Winnifred steals you away to plan our wedding.” At the mention of her wedding, Y/N’s eyes go wide. I know it is out of dread, but the smile on Loki’s face shows that he thinks it is out of wanting.

“How kind of you,” she says as Loki pulls away. He helps her into a seat beside him and serves her some of the food that’s been placed on the table. As the Princess eats, Loki watches intently. He can’t seem to take his eyes off her, and I feel my skin crawl as I watch them. I keep my attention on her eyes, noticing how her eyelids droop, giving her a sleepy look.

“Are you looking forward to the wedding, little dove?” Loki coos, running a hand along her shoulders. I want to rip off his arm. Y/N takes a moment to respond and gather her thoughts, the way her brow furrows concerns me.

“Oh, yes, of course, Loki. I’m very excited.” Her voice sounds so far away, and I can tell she is under his spell. Loki gives her a pleased smile but doesn’t press her for more. The Princess continues eating, Loki reads, and I watch. The smug look on his face makes me want to scream, and when Loki’s eyes catch mine, I know I’m caught. He knows how I feel, and he’s rubbing it in. Too late , a voice whispers in my head. It itches in the back of my mind, but I don’t let it show on my face. I can’t wait to have her, to make her mine. Though, I suppose she already is mine, isn’t she? I have no idea how he’s doing it, but I try to keep my thoughts focused. I don’t need him digging through my head and finding my vulnerabilities.

“Good, you’re both here! I was worried that I’d have to track you two down!” Winnifred’s voice says from the door. The feeling in my head disappears as we all turn to face the source of the voice. Y/N smiles brightly at Winnifred, and I breathe a sigh of relief at her presence. Loki will not participate in planning today since Y/N is supposed to select her wedding gown, so I am looking forward to the time away from him. Winnifred fusses with the Princess and urges her to finish eating, and before long, Loki is headed out the door.

Winnifred has the whole day planned. After Y/N selects her flowers, decorations for the ceremony, and what will be served at the reception, it is time for her to try on her dresses. Winnifred insists that I sit on the most uncomfortable chair in the castle and watch as the Princess puts on a little fashion show. It’s a strange experience, planning a wedding with the woman I love. Under different circumstances, it would make me so happy, but since it isn’t me she is marrying, I can’t help but be disgusted at the prospect of the event. Loki had chosen the colors for the wedding, so everything Y/N selected had to follow his wishes. Winnifred had even mentioned that Loki had chosen all the wedding dresses, so each one had a touch of him already incorporated.

I want to see the Princess all dolled up in white, walking down that aisle, but instead of that horrible prince at the end waiting for her, I want it to be me. I want to sweep her off her feet and promise my life to her, my future, forever. She’s it for me. She’s the only one I can see myself with. I desperately need Sam or Steven to pull through with the merger, if we don’t pull it off, I’ll have to give up the girl of my dreams, and I don’t think I’ll survive that.

Poems referenced this chapter: [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] and Funeral Blues

Tagged: @sharksandtea @itsthemaree @peaches1958 @thegirlnextdoorssister

divider by: @skylightlantern

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bokashi · 3 years

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Legit My Favorite Fics of All Time Holy Shit (Haikyuu)

I'll organize it by ship and try to include some details. I have a massive, well-organized folder of fics (probably over 100 fics jeez), but these are my favorites, the ones I've reread the most, or have taken up a lot of my headspace. Enjoy. :)

Bokuaka <3

Rules - ConesOfDunshire - Explicit, AU: Musician Autistic Bokuto, Accountant Akaashi - A bokuaka classic and probably my favorite Haikyuu fic of all time. Truly my favorite (top 3 at the very least). It's such a lovely story with minimal angst and a frick ton of fluff, and we get to watch as these two beautiful boys fall in love with each other. Well worth the read.

This Smacks of Rainbows - darkgaaraluver - Teen, AU: soulmates, still volleyball players at fukurodani, pre-canon, reincarnation - I love reading stories from Akaashi's perspective because he is a poetry gay and so we get the most beautiful language when describing Bokuto. There is so much pining and angst in this it hurts. Truly, this fic causes pain, but the comfort that follows is so sweet, that it makes it worth it. I reread this one at least 5 times after first discovering it.

like patience on a monument - titanscrow - Teen, Canon Compliant, slow-burn - Literally just read this one. That's how good it is. I already KNOW that this will be on my list. As the author says in the notes, they're allergic to sadness, so although this is a slow burn, there isn't a lot of angst in my opinion. Seeing Bokuto from Akaashi's eyes is once again, one of the most beautiful things, but we also get peeks at how Bokuto views Akaashi and that's honestly what changed this story from really good to an absolute favorite. (Note: it's all from Akaashi's POV, but when you get there, you'll know what I mean.) The author also came out with a new bokuaka fic (~5000 words) and I am IN LOVE WITH IT. So please read that too!

O-week is Wild - KnottyRoses - Teen, AU: College, FLUFF, COMFORT, BEAUTY, GRACE - This is my comfort fic. Feeling down? Read this because your mood will be lifted. We follow bokuaka during O-week (a Canadian term, but basically college/uni orientation). Bokuto is such a sweetheart. Characterization may be a little off (for Akaashi moreso), but I truly dream that this is how their personalities would develop in this universe, so it doesn't matter!!

polaris - ClementineKitten - Teen, AU: reincarnation, pining - Honestly what really gets me about this fic is Fates' little mentions of their previous lives. I love watching these boys fall in love through snippets and this is the perfect fic for that.

how you wish it would be all the time - drifting_i - General, Slow burn, post-time skip, "domestic bliss" - I think about this fic all the time. It hits me when I least expect it. Personally, I love the idea of Bokuto and Akaashi keeping in contact and seeing each other when they can, and this fic is an amazing example of that. And really, it is so freaking well written. I fell in love with this story and I hope you do to.

Iwaoi

Six-Month Lover - afuzzyowl - Explicit, pining, fluff and angst (a lovely combo, but if you're afraid of angst, it's not that bad!) - This one is so cute, and it's from an alternating POV, which is always nice with longer fics. It's particularly lovely because we get to watch Iwa fall for Oikawa (and using the best metaphor to justify it, a door opens—I realize now that sounds like a flattykawa joke, but I really just like that metaphor). But anyways, the way Hajime falls is soft and beautiful and it makes me believe in good things?! I just love it.

I sure hope that guy gets fired - Xov - Teen, time loop, pining, pre-time skip - This is another fic that is in my top 3. Truly, one of the best. *chef's kiss* I'm a sucker for fics with supernatural elements (body swap, etc.). We once again watch Iwa fall in love (are you sensing a pattern), and his POV is so wonderful. It's so well written and feels in character. Watching the relationship between Oikawa and Iwa bloom makes my heart swell. Please, please read this one.

and suddenly, we were strangers - izayas - Teen, angst with happy ending, amnesia, canon divergence, time skip - This made me cry for so many reasons. It's a rollercoaster of feelings and although the angst is there, iwaoi are still pretty much together, so it doesn't always feel like angst, it just feels like a speedbump on their road to happiness. And it diverges from the other two: this time we watch Oikawa fall in love, although for very different reasons! :) :(

you'd be happier instead if you stayed in [my] bed // sometimes b sides are the best songs - ClementineKitten + overwhelmingly_awesome - Mature, time skip, angst (up the wazoo), alcohol, pining, infidelity (iwa has a fiance) - CRAP! I love this one!! I think this is the last of the top 3. It's a two-parter, links included for both parts. We return to formula with Iwa being behind on the whole feelings thing (what's new). And it hurts and it heals? This fic is truly hurt/comfort for the soul. And also shockingly rational, which is often unusual in Iwaoi fics. They approach situations like adults (mostly... cheating is wrong straight up, so that's immature). If you're looking for adult Hajime and Tooru, I'm pleased to say that this feels like two adults figuring out a tough situation patiently. That's just one way to sell this wonderful fic, I could go on... But I won't...

lips like sugar - ohhotlamb - Teen, first kiss, canon compliant, (1 teeny tiny boner), kissing practice - YES! I shall include 1 kissing practice fic, it would be rude not to! No more elaboration because it's short enough for you to enjoy on your own!! And it's KISSING PRACTICE, come on, why are you still here, GO READ THIS FIC!

Matsuhana

聞けよ [Ask] - AshenBee - Teen, slow burn, time skip, quarter-life crisis (lol relatable tag), unemployed hanamaki <3 - What a beautiful story... I love Matsuhana content. We get little snippets of these boys just trying to figure out life and it's wonderful. LOTS of pining. Hanamaki moves in with Matsukawa for a bit. I don't even know how to sell this fic because it kind of sells itself. It's a character study of Hanamaki and as a young adult going through similar quarter-life crises, it's relatable and helps to deal with those feelings.

call me maybe - totooru - Teen, partially a text fic (not all of it, lots of writing), HUMOR, fluff, AU where Mattsun goes to Karasuno - Let me tell you this is straight up the funniest fic I've read. I cackled out loud so many times. It's insane. I'm an easy laugh, so maybe that says something, but either way, if you need something to lift you up, this is a greater fic for it. No angst, just prolonging the inevitable, and two boys who basically fell for each other right off the bat. A dynamic duo truly.

Miya Atsumu & Osamu (BIG BIG SPOILERS FOR THE FIC IN THIS DESCRIPTION, JUST BEWARE IF YOU WANT TO GO IN BLIND)

for just another day - sieges - General, canon divergence, photography, BIG SPOILER BUT I DON'T WANT TO SEND PEOPLE IN BLIND BECAUSE IT MIGHT WRECK YOU: major character death - This fic holds a special place in my heart for many reasons, but mostly because I lost my brother a little over a year ago. Completely different from this situation, but nonetheless, incredibly difficult. I 100% sobbed reading this fic. And it really helped me unpack a new part of my grief and my relationship with my brother. I really love what this story did with handling the death of a sibling, not sure if the author went through something like this, but it felt very real to me. (And now all I crave is Miya twins angst...) Also, I swear there's some form of closure. It's not terribly sad! It obviously deals with heavy topics, but at least for me, it felt like being wrapped up in a blanket and being told that everything will be okay.

I try to avoid sadness and angst at all costs (that one bokuaka fic that shall go unnamed really did a number on my grieving ass, so I can't handle anything like that anymore—it was so bad that I had to unpack it in therapy, jeez...). Most of these fics have mild angst or a lot of fluff to make up for heavy angst. There are definitely a lot of angst fics that I have saved, but obviously, that's not always my favorite brand for shipping (I just want everyone to be happy most of the time). Let me know if you read/have read any of these, I'm always up for discussion. :)

#fic recommendation #haikyuu #bokuaka #iwaoi #matsuhana #miya twins #atsumu #osamu #haikyuu!!#fics

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

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Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Part 3 of Cozy’s Fluff-To-Angst Fun and Games

@fablesrose said:

Alright, break my heart.

A lover softly combing their fingers through your hair as your head lays in their lap, quietly drifting to sleep with a hum.

Summary: She could accept this fate, did accept this fate, if it meant that he would escape safe and sound. But Loki could never let her fall alone.

Word Count: 1,663

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: So this is based on a dream I had a while ago ... it’s weird. I know it might not make any sense, but my dreams never make any sense lol, so I was kind of trying to channel that a bit. The title is from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”-- I debated about that for a while, because I know this story doesn’t really fit that poem thematically (like ... at all), but the atmosphere it creates is sort of what I was going for? Kind of? Idk this story is a trash fire.

Also please let me know what you think of the ending! I’m genuinely curious to see how people interpret it ...

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Drowning? (but no death)

Tags: @lucywrites02 @silver-lupines @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

At first, she thought she was dead. That moment when she first hit the water, the icy crack that shattered her vision as millions of tiny needles pierced every sliver of skin and cut straight to her bones—surely, she must be dead. No body could survive such raw cold.

But she wasn’t. She was alive for now, alive enough to scream as freezing water rushed down her throat, up her nostrils, through her ears, ripping her apart from the inside until there was nothing left but ice.

Can’t breathe—

The surface sparkled above her with a mocking glow. She knew how to swim, but when she tried to kick her legs only dangled in the water, useless chunks of lead pulling her deeper and deeper with each failed flail. Her arms weren’t working properly. Her fingers had turned to icicles.

No, she wasn’t dead, but she was dying.

The thought electrified her, and she tried another half-hearted thrash for the surface even as her chest swelled with water. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. Somewhere, deep down, she was ashamed of her fear. She hadn’t fought the drop. She had given herself up to death’s eternal slumber. Why was she panicking now?

But this was different. She had made peace with the fall, yes, but the water did not hold the same mercy. Please. She gasped for the surface, not even sure who she was pleading with.

Please, not like this.

She wasn’t expecting an answer.

And yet one came.

In one moment, she was spiraling down into the blackness, in another, the light was flying towards her in a halo of bubbles, a familiar arm tight and firm around her waist.

Somehow, the air she heaved into her lungs was even colder than the water below, the frigid wind that whipped across her cheeks threatening to take her skin with it. She coughed out a waterfall, the panic that had been frozen in her throat finally freed from its floodgates as she sobbed and shook against his chest.

His.

Sigyn gagged on the realization.

“You—you—” But her voice only burned, too raw for speech. When she attempted to twist around to see his face, he only held her more tightly against him as he pulled her to the embankment. She pulled at his collar with numb fingers.

“You were supposed to run,” she choked. “Loki, you were supposed to run.”

Loki said nothing. He scooped her up like she weighed no more than a feather, his ruby eyes staring off at something only he could see as they trudged through the snow. She realized suddenly that she was shivering, teeth chattering like a pair of castanets, and she gulped as she tried in vain to hold her frostbitten hands still. Loki’s grip around her tightened.

“We need to get you warm,” he said. “You’ll freeze like this.”

What he needed to do was drop her and get as far away from her as possible, but Sigyn’s voice wasn’t working properly. Really, very little was working properly. Her vision was going fuzzy in the corners, the steady sound of his wet boots crunching against the ice was starting to fade into an indistinguishable buzz.

She only noticed they had stopped when the fire crackled to life—a vibrant, vigorous warmth that washed all over her, and she found herself bathing in the glow of dancing flames despite her better judgment.

“Loki!” she whispered weakly, fighting to cling to her last dregs of reason. “The smoke— he’ll find you—”

Loki lay behind her, holding her to his chest with a touch so gentle she barely felt it. His fingertips danced across her temples, stroking clumps of wet hair from her face as they went.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was soft and safe, a warm blanket wrapping her up and sheltering her from the world.

She inhaled. Her chest felt numb. “What’s going to happen?” She hated that she sounded so small, like a frightened child cowering at a storm. But surely what they were facing was a storm of its own? Sigyn knew very well who it was pursuing them. She knew he would stop at nothing to retrieve what he wanted.

It could only be a matter of time …

But Loki was unconcerned. “Don’t worry, darling,” he soothed. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to turn out right.”

“The tesseract—”

He hushed her gently. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” He hummed as he combed through her hair, a tune that Sigyn almost recognized, something innocent and nostalgic. It was something from a lifetime far away, dancing on the edge of her memory. She found her eyelids slipping closed, even as she fought to remain awake.

Can’t sleep now. Can’t leave him …

“It’s all right, my love,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You can go. I promise I’ll be all right.”

And so, she gave into his words, and the world faded to black.

…

When they found him, the fire had gone out. Loki was hunched alone in the snow, watching little flecks of ice crystalize on his blue skin. He didn’t bother to stand as they surrounded his makeshift camp. Why should he? He was weary, and besides— it didn’t matter now.

The Mad-Titan loomed over him, his golden armor sparkling with frost as he regarded Loki with a kind of patronizing amusement.

“And so the Jotun blesses us with his true colors.”

Loki fixed him with a heavy-lidded stare, breath whistling through his lips in a silver vapor. He was too exhausted for words. Besides, what was there to say? Everyone here knew how this was going to end.

At least, they thought they did.

“I’m surprised at your choice,” Thanos grinned. It was a spider’s smile, one that said he wasn’t surprised at all. Loki pressed his nails into the palms of his hands. “I thought for sure you had chosen to run.”

Yes. Sigyn had thought so too, had wanted him to flee. He had seen in her eyes, that peaceful resignation as she accepted her fate.

As if he could ever let her fall alone.

Thanos knew it. That was the frustrating part. He knew Loki would jump in to save her or die trying. He knew he’d give up his life, give up the tesseract, give up every living creature in the universe if it meant keeping her safe …

It didn’t matter now. Sigyn was free from harm, far outside the Titan’s reach, and the tesseract …

“Hand it over, princeling.”

Loki only smirked. History may call him Silvertongue, but oh, sometimes silence tasted so sweet.

Thanos’ eyes narrowed.

They dragged him to his feet in an instant. Loki didn’t fight it. It was only a matter of seconds before the realization would strike, and he for one was enjoying the anticipation.

The Titan towered over him. Loki fought the urge to laugh. He clearly thought himself intimidating, but his tiny eyes glaring out from beneath his helmet only made Loki think of an overgrown cockroach wearing armor.

Still, he bit his tongue.

“I’ll ask only once more,” Thanos leaned towards him, practically spitting in his face. “The tesseract. Hand it over.”

Loki didn’t flinch.

“My lord—” It was one of his Children, hunched over a datapad with a molded tension in his shoulders.

Here we go.

“What?”

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean it’s not here?” Thanos snapped. “He has it!”

The man inhaled a shaky breath. “Forgive me sir, but he doesn’t. Here—” He held the tablet to the Titan with trembling hands in frantic supplication. “It’s not on his person. It’s not even on this planet. There’s not even the slightest trace of its gamma signature on this side of the galaxy!”

Loki grinned.

…

She awoke in her bed, cocooned in the snug embrace of her favorite fuzzy blanket. The rain pattered on the roof outside, a soft hum that almost soothed her back into slumber. Still, she pulled herself from sleep’s clutches and yawned, stretching as she sat up.

Such a strange dream.

It seemed so distant now, all wrapped up in warmth. She could only barely recall the last dregs of icy panic, floundering in a frozen river. And the man who had pulled her out …

She chuckled to herself. If only every nightmare ended with a tall, dark stranger rushing to her rescue. Although memory of his face eluded her, she couldn’t forget the feeling of his arm around her waist, so strong yet so gentle at the same time, clutching her to his chest like it was his sole purpose in life to hold her close. She sighed. Her subconscious had been kind to her last night.

A loud yowling from down the hall startled her from her reverie—the cat, demanding his breakfast. She frowned at the clock and jumped when she realized how late it was. Oh well. Can’t spend all morning fantasizing about handsome dream-men. Time to get up.

There was a song stuck in her head, she realized suddenly. It took her a moment to place it. Some silly jump rope chant from elementary school that she hadn’t thought of in years.

She giggled. How obscure is that?

Another meow reverberated through the apartment, an impatient edge to the cry. She groaned, throwing back the covers.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” One of her slippers was missing from its usual spot. She frowned. “Tigger, did you steal my slipper?”

Tigger only let out another screech, and she huffed. That damn cat was always snatching everything she left out and stashing them under something—he was a veritable hoarder.

“Fine,” she yelled, making her way to the kitchen slipperless. “Be like that, you little thief—”

So distracted was she by the cat, she didn’t notice the faint blue glow emanating from the tangled mess of her bedsheets.

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki x sigyn #loki x ofc #logyn #miles to go before i sleep #cozys fluff-to-angst fun and games #cozy writes

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fandom-monium · 3 years

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I JUST READ KITCHEN CATASTROPHES OMG ITS SOOO CUTE UGH MY HEART SO SOFT CAN YOU PLSSS DO A PART 2? THANK YOU KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DO

AN: thank you, anon! i dont plan to make a sequel to KC. But if i did:

For Valentine’s Day

Summary: In which you throw a wrench in Spencer’s plans: you don’t like Valentine’s Day. “If it’s with you, I guess it’s not so bad.”

WC: 2.9k (whoops)

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, semi anti-valentines day, Spencer tears up but dont worry were there to fix that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, post-For the Holidays

Fuck cooking, Spencer thinks one day.

It's an irrational thought. The kind that strikes through his mind in a flash of irritation like a scrape of the knee as he is perusing the internet. Yes, he is using a computer willingly. He has to because he's desperate.

Cooking is stupid. Who really needs it, right?

…

He needs it. God, he needs it so bad.

His need to learn cooking wasn't as incessant until recently. Until you came along.

Spencer is a meticulous person and a romantic if you'd ever met one. Makes sense considering how he grew up, reading the classics and all that. He's read all the gooey literary shit old people write and while he never understood those meanings it all dawned on him one day. Quotes written like 'the stars in their eyes' and 'sunshine glowing off them like a halo', suddenly makes sense once he meets you. Or at least, after coming to know you, months into your newfound friendship.

It's because of this he plans accordingly the weeks leading up to Valentine's day! Because again he's meticulous and a romantic and a genius so he plans every step and makes a back up plan in case A, B, and C fall through.

Is he going overboard?

… Nah. No way. Not when it comes to you.

But fuck with a capital F, man.

It's your third date. Or what is supposed to be your third date if you would just stop being you for a second.

Then again, he loves you a lot and he wouldn't love you if you weren't, well, you.

Although—pardon his french—what the fuck.

Spencer knows he needs to learn to cook. You've tried plenty of times to teach him and he loves learning and he especially loves it when you are the teacher (wait, does he have a teacher/student fantasy? Maybe. That’s something he'll look into later. Preferably with you).

Unfortunately, he's terrible at it.

He's made progress and he knows it's true because you said so but the miniscule progress he's made is. Not. Enough. And it's all your fault! Because he gets so distracted by you during your lessons, like when you put your hands over his to show him proper slicing techniques—holy fuck, he wanted to combust right there—or just watching your deft hands at work, lips and brow scrunched in concentration in that adorable way. And you smell like cooking oil or whatever you're making and you're hot.

He's so into you it physically hurts. Ugh. How is he so lucky?

You're also the first person he's been this into since Maeve. And everyone knows how well that turned out.

So he tries to dial it down for Valentine’s Day. Morgan told him once he tends to throw himself into everything he does, including love. And when you two got together, he promised the universe he will not fuck this up. He ends up combining Morgan’s advice with Luke’s, trying to be casual like Luke says because apparently you're just as into him as he is of you.

The thought makes him grin uncontrollably. Luke says it makes him look like a clown but a lovesick clown. A lovefool, Luke hehs.

Spencer doesn’t get the joke, but it does nothing to deter him.

As Luke advised, Spencer does “not” make a dozen back up plans and does “not" plan weeks in advance. Because that wouldn't be casual, would it?

But now the day’s come and as Valentine’s Day turns to Valentine’s Night, Spencer wants to pull his hair, rub his frustratedly stinging eyes but he can't because he's in the middle of work, in the middle of the bullpen, in the middle of his desk and he refuses to be that guy. Not again.

Why does he feel like sobbing? Like a loser?

Because you don't like Valentine’s Day. No, you abhor it.

It happens in the middle of the work day. It's like he tried to open a door only for a bucket of ice water to be dumped on him and now he looks like a drowned rat. He definitely feels like one.

You're talking with Garcia about her Valentine’s Day plans as you multitask, switching between putting together packets and stacking them aside. Then taking them under the hole-puncher and stapling them together because the BAU isn't all kicking down doors and catching freaks.

It makes sense that you’re chatting with Garcia during your break. The two of you have become two peas in a pod after you came out of your shell. Now you're inseparable. Only you make Garcia leave her batcave as much as she does now.

Out of sight, he catches tidbits of your conversation when he hears distinctively: Fuck Valentine’s Day.

Okay, you didn't say that verbatim but you might as well have, grimacing as you three hole-punch a packet and his heart. Then a nail on his coffin only it’s with a stapler.

Thump. Chick.

Spencer winces; there goes your his Valentine’s Day plans.

It shouldn't sting as much as it does. You've been dating for over a month and Valentine’s Day is definitely not his favorite holiday either. It's not even top 3. And as you rant he can’t help but silently nod in agreement, all the facts straight: yes, it's an eyesore. Yes, it's a capitalistic holiday. Yes, people should do nice things for their significant others no matter the time and not because it's expected on a specific day. Yes, it doesn't compare to Halloween—

The thing is, you two aren't that “couple-y”, at least in a traditional sense. Not like Will and JJ who got a babysitter so they could go out or like Luke and Garcia as they plan to go to a special Valentine’s Day event she wants to check out (she vehemently denies anything going on between them but he doesn't need to be a genius to see the affection they have for one another. Just kiss already, damn).

So yeah, Spencer hoped to spend the romantic holiday with you. For once, he'd have Valentine’s Day plans, aside from exchanging cards with the team and his mother.

But apparently you hate Valentine’s Day! So there goes plan A, B, C, and D!

Spencer feels the tears spring at the corner of his eyes. He sniffs as subtly as he can, raising an open case file to his face. Of all the plans he hadn't thought through this was not one of them. IQ 187, his ass.

He should've known. Or at least ask your thoughts on Valentine’s Day. That was inconsiderate on his part. He blinks back tears, withdrawing into himself despite his hurt because he is a lovefool and only for you. He just wants to impress you, make you happy even if that means canceling your first Valentine’s Day together.

Now if you'll excuse him, he has to call off a few reservations and make some returns. Several actually.

Can you return a dozen donuts in the shape of hearts?

… Yeah, he better ask Emily for the rest of the day off.

—

"Hey Newb, have you seen Spencer? I haven't seen him since his break," You ask, resting your chin in your hand as you squint at another form. Your eyes are beginning to tire.

Spencer asked you several times over the course of the last week, checking to see if you were free today. You are, so you planned to hang with him after work, but he hasn't returned from his break and he wasn't answering your calls or texts. Not unusual but still odd for your boyfriend (you still can’t believe you get to say that).

Luke sighs, his smooth voice reaching over your shared divider, "You know at some point I'm just not going to respond. You guys can’t call me Newbie forever."

"Keep telling yourself that," You snort without looking up.

Another sigh and you smirk: you win.

"For your information," Luke grumbles, words punctuated with sass, "Doc went home."

You pause. "Home?" He didn't tell you.

"Yeah, probably to get ready for your date."

"Our date?" You frown and stand up, leaning over the divider to see if Luke’s fucking with you.

He isn't. Luke shrugs, humming wistfully as he rests his cheek in his hand, "You should've seen how excited he was, being it your first Valentine's Day and all. I told him to chill out because you'll love whatever it is no matter what but I'm sure he ignored that and planned something spectacular for you guys." Sitting back, he twirls around in his chair.

You grimace, recalling your earlier conversation with Garcia.

Shit.

"Meanwhile, I have to spend Galentine's Day with Garcia because all the ladies of the BAU are taken and I have nothing better to do—" Luke comes to a full 720, catching the tail end of your coat as you whip it on and make for the door. "—um, excuse you?"

"If Emily asks, I had an emergency!" You manage to call back, throwing open the glass door.

"Okay?"

"Thanks, Newb!"

As the elevator door dings shut with you inside, leg jumping because you have a sneaking suspicion you fucked up, Luke slouches in his chair and grumbles.

He's not a newb. Or a newbie.

—

You rush over to Spencer's, catching your breath as you stumble to his front door. There's shuffling from inside, the faint sound of clanking and crashing and your heart swells because this is the man you’ve fallen for, the first one you've ever felt this way for. Here he is, being all considerate and romantic. And here you are, fucking it up when your relationship’s barely even started.

God, you're an asshole, you berate yourself as you turn the doorknob and push open the door. You're an asshole you're an asshole you’re an asshole—

Then your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack.

Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth and nose as your favorite scented candles hit you like someone shoved a bouquet in your face. The description isn't too far off considering there's a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers still in its wrapping, haphazardly set next to a dozen donuts on the coffee table like no one's business. Its petals are strewn across the floor, a few in tiny piles like they were hastily swept to the side. Red and pink and dark green fill your vision.

Who gutted Cupid and tossed his organs around, holy fu-

"(Your name)?"

Startled, you crane your head to find Spencer, beautiful hair askew and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he clutches flowers to his chest. In his other hand, he grips the colored strings of several shiny red and pink balloons in the shape of hearts and—fuck—your heart might actually float up from your chest and into your eyes.

This is your man. Your partner. Your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend panics, fumbling for a second before stuffing the balloons and trimmed flowers back into the room behind him and slamming the door shut. He turns back to you, eyes wide.

"What-what are you doing here?" Spencer stammers, wringing his hands together.

You blink at him, dumbly holding up your phone. "You-uh-you left early and didn't return my calls."

"I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at work," Probably because he left in such a rush, Spencer groans, looking anywhere but you. The petals scattered over his floor are quite pretty in this light. "And I was a bit busy."

"I'm sure you were," You gawk openly at the strings of fairy lights hung around his living room. It's a clash of aesthetics. Spencer always rocked dark academia, but despite how ugly the combination of red and pink decorations with his nature green walls and dark wood is, it leaves his apartment a little brighter, a little cozier, and you love it.

You love everything about this.

But as you take in the ugly beauty of it all, Spencer fidgets at the doorway, mistaking your awe as shock and disgust. Wiping sweaty palms on his trousers, his eyes dart around, trying to focus on something, but every place he lays his eyes on makes him cringe. He catches all the things he couldn't clean up or put away in time. No doubt you do too. All the leftover flower petals, the donuts he can’t return, candles that haven’t blown out because he has the lungs of an 8-year old asthmatic.

Spencer can't imagine how appalled you are.

And the longer your silence stretches on, the more nervous he gets so he blurts out, "I'm so sorry, (Your Name)!"

Your brow shoots up as he begins to ramble.

"You must hate this. I'll put everything away."

"You really don't have to—" You stop him, and your heart nearly crumbles as Spencer's does when he finally meets your worried gaze.

His eyes gleam with unshed tears. He swallows, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Doc—"

"At least not without asking you—"

"Doctor—"

"I understand if you want to break up—" His voice cracks, as if the idea itself will destroy him (it definitely will).

"Spencer—" His voice, wobbly and dripping with unnecessary guilt, draws you to him.

"But I want you to know that I—"

With an exasperated sigh, you grab his hand as yours finds the nape of his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss.

For a second, Spencer doesn't respond because who kisses the person they're about to break up with? Strange, really. But then he kisses you back. His hands remain frozen, unsure of where he stands, but he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He figures this is a new social cue he has yet to learn. And if this is the last time you kiss him, he'll treasure every second of it, take whatever you'll give him because again he's a lovefool for you.

And when you pull back, he's too dazed he nearly misses the look you give him. Suddenly, he can’t breathe.

You look at him like he hung the stars instead of cheap fairy lights around his apartment.

Spencer’s confused. "I-I... Wha—"

"I'm not breaking up with you," You chuckle, and you nearly burst out laughing as genuine puzzlement takes over his face. You tug him behind you, plopping yourselves on his couch. You smile, appreciating the way he organized the cushions and throw-pillows; there's now space for two people to lay down.

You take a breath. "You wanna know why I don't like Valentine’s Day?"

Spencer slouches, though his body is angled towards you so you suppose that's good. He sighs, "Because it's a capitalistic holiday that reinforces the idea of doing the bare minimum…"

He begins listing your reasons, and your eyes soften. Of course he listened and remembered even if you mentioned it offhandedly.

You nod once he finishes. "Yes but before that—and I can't believe I'm telling you this—back when I was a little kid, I didn’t get any Valentines."

Spencer's brow furrows at the newfound information. You continue, "I'd get some from my friends and stuff but that's not what Valentine's Day is about. At least not when you're a kid. When you’re a dumb kid, it’s about couples and romantic shit, and I didn't really have any of that growing up." You purse your lips and glance away, face flushed with embarrassment. It's really not that big a deal, but putting it into words makes the idea seem more intimate and personal.

It takes a moment for your words to sink in as Spencer can't believe his ears. How could you not have been showered with love and affection and presents on Valentines Day? It's like water doesn't make things wet or fire doesn't produce heat; it just doesn't make sense. Because you deserve that much and more.

"So every Valentine's Day, I lowered my expectations and eventually I stopped caring. I'd tell myself those things and I started to believe them," You bite your lip, eyes crinkling as you give Spencer a sheepish smile. "But now I have you."

At that, Spencer returns your smile, letting you take his hand. Any tears he had seem to evaporate instantly.

“So, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I stand by what I said before, Valentine’s Day sucks. But if it’s with you,” Blushing deeply, you play with Spencer's hand, large and veins defined compared to yours, shrugging, “I guess it’s not so bad.”

Spencer’s smile broadens, and he intertwines your fingers together. "So what you’re saying is, you don’t hate this?” He looks around his living room.

You shake your head, unable to stop the grin crossing your lips. “No. In fact, very much the opposite. Honestly, thank you for this, it’s beautiful. I have no words.” You breathe it all in; the candles, the flowers, the— Your nose wrinkles and you snort, “Did you burn something?”

Bashfully looking down, he scratches his chin. “I-uh-tried to make your favorite dishes. Though, I was hoping the candles and flowers would mask it.”

You giggle and pull him into you, snuggling into his side. “That’s okay. I’d much rather have you anyway.”

With Spencer a blushing, stuttering mess in your arms, head resting on your chest, you press a kiss to his hair and conclude; yeah, you don’t like Valentine’s Day.

But you sure as hell love Spencer more.

—

AN: FtH status: finished - 7/5. yes 7.

I realize this was not what anon requested but oh well i wrote this at 2 am

I’m not that anti v day but i stand by the capitalistic aspect.

yes this takes place after For the Holidays.

also included luke bc hes my bro and i honestly think he deserves so much more than what the show gave also garvez ftw

happy post valentine’s day!!

Song: Lovefool by The Cardigans

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #mgg imagine #mgg fic #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds

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m-m-m-myysurana · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Ok I got tagged by @blarrghe like at least 2 weeks ago to share a wip. (I’m sorryy!) I am notoriously bad at this sort of thing. So anyway it is actually Wednesday for me now and look who has a WIP to share!!

This is a snippet which will, in some form or another, make it into my long fic, A Cage We Share eventually. But it insisted on being written right now ty! Kept me up last night until it was out on the page. First rough draft of course so be kind ;)

Neria and Zev spend an evening in the Dalish camp after resolving the conflict between the Werewolves and the elves.

A Night to Remember, (1500 words)

It was like no performance he’d ever seen. The singer was not dressed in any elaborate costume, nor did he even hold himself above the others, instead he sat close to the fire and sang into it. There were no instruments backing him up, though he did not seem to need it, his voice rang out clear and strong. Some sang or hummed along softly, harmonies and echoed lines fading in and out around them. From the cadence and verse, it seemed to be a story. Zevran recognised the name of one of the elven gods, though he could not pick out enough words to make sense of it. Neria’s eyes sparkled in the firelight as she listened with rapt attention.

“What does it mean?” he whispered.

Neria looked over and smiled softly before leaning in to whisper next to his ear, “It's the Charge of Andruil. My father used to sing it. I don’t know that I’ll be able to translate it with much grace, but I can try.”

Zevran nodded, and she settled closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He kept very still, as if any sudden movement might scare her off. He felt more than heard her low words as she echoed the song. Her translation was spoken, not sung, but her voice was no less beautiful for lack of a melody.

“Remember my teachings, Remember the Vir Tanadhal: The Way of Three Trees That I have given you.

“Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow Be swift and silent; Strike true, do not waver And let not your prey suffer. That is my Way.

“Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; In pliancy, find strength. That is my Way.”

More voices joined in, and soon it seemed the entire camp was reciting the verse. Not every voice was as strong or beautiful as the first, but together in harmony it did not matter. As the sound filled his ears, an emotion he could not name expanded in his chest, swelling until he felt it might burst right out of him.

“Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my Way.

“I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil. Remember the Ways of the Hunter And I shall be with you.” *

When the man finished, and Neria had echoed the last line, there was no polite applause or bows taken as Zevran had expected. A moment's silence passed, in which Zevran felt sure everyone would hear how wildly his heart beat. Then a drum was struck behind him, and he startled, whirling round to face it. The man pounded the drum a few more times, then began a rhythm that had many quickly cheering and standing. Neria stayed where she was on the log they were sitting on, so he remained with her. She twisted around and watched, delighted, as more of them joined in, bringing out more drums, tambourines, bells and fiddles, something that looked like a lute but wasn’t quite, and instruments he had no names for. Others joined in with the voices, not singing any particular lyrics he could pick out, just adding to the ever changing melodies with their voices. People started dancing, forming circles around the fire, and soon the camp was thrumming with the music so that even his heart seemed to beat to the rhythm.

Neria swayed her head from side to side, eyes gleaming as she clapped along. Zevran stood, grinning as he held his hand out toward her.

“Shall we?”

“Oh, but I haven’t danced in years!”

“Shocking! I think it's time we remedied that, don’t you?”

Neria laughed and let him help her up. He had not even had time to release her hand before a woman had his arm and was pulling them both along toward the dancing. With little ceremony, she broke a space between two dancers who, once they realised what was happening, very happily made space for the three of them. The dancer’s movements didn’t cease once as they attempted to join the circle, and the ensuing chaos created much laughter. The woman wrapped Zevran’s arm around her shoulders and wrapped her own around the woman beside her. A taller man wrapped his arm around Neria’s shoulders and Zevran shifted his arm under her arm and around her waist.

Zevran had danced before, many times, though it had been nothing like this. Most dances in his country were made for two people, even in groups the dancers were in pairs. And of course most of the ones he had learnt had a focus on romance and seduction. These movements were made not in any effort to appear graceful or attractive, and indeed he was neither of those things right now. He stumbled over his feet many times as he attempted to copy the steps. They seemed to constantly shift and change, he would only just begin to pick up on one set of movements before they had moved on to another. Neria laughed, stumbling nearly as much as he did. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to what her feet were doing, instead her eyes were up and her head thrown back, as if she were simply feeling the music.

It took him a while to realise the voice closest to him was hers. He had never heard her sing before, her voice was low and soothing and sweet like honey. Something glimmered on her face, reflecting the dancing light of the fire. Tears? Once he noticed he could not tear his eyes away. This was the happiest he had ever seen her, and yet she was crying. It confused him, but he did not dare interrupt.

Soon the circle broke apart, though the dancing did not cease. He and Neria were separated, and he was guided through a sort of weaving dance. Each person he passed linked arms with him and spun before sending him off to the next person. This continued until he was quite dizzy, laughing as hair flew out of his braids.

Then suddenly it was Neria who was swinging with him. He knew the next part meant he had to let go, but he didn’t want to. So he held on, using their momentum to throw them out and away from the fire. Neria screamed with laughter as they whirled, spinning wildly until they were some distance from the other dancers.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as he slowed them down. When they’d finally stopped, Neria’s grin was wide and open, and both of them breathed heavily. Their noses nearly touched, and couldn’t help but remember the last time they were so close. Heat flushed through him unexpectedly, and something sparked in her eyes, a look he recognised from that night. They were out in the open, the whole clan could see them if they looked the right way, but he couldn’t care less. He dared to lean into her lips and was delighted when she responded with far more enthusiasm than he’d expected. There was a loud whoop followed by whistling and laughter, but Zevran did not want to pull away to see if it was aimed at them.

The kiss was clumsy, all teeth and breathless laughter, but in that moment he wouldn’t have had it any other way. She pushed her hands into his mess of hair, destroying what remained of his braids, and he tugged at her waist until their bodies were flush against one another. Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, falling against his chest. He was still so dizzy that they both went over. He caught himself before they hit the ground, and managed to lower them down, almost gently. Neria lay on his chest, wide eyed for a moment, but then she burst into a fit of laughter, rolling off of him and onto the damp leaves. He couldn’t help but join in.

After some time their laughter faded as they focused simply on breathing again. Neria looked up at the sky, and Zevran followed her gaze. Framed by the clearing in the tall trees, clouds had parted to reveal a glimpse of the night sky. For a second he was taken back to the time he’d spent stargazing with Talisen and Rinna, out on the roof of their tiny, crumbling apartment. Those nights were always accompanied with so much cheap wine that his memories of them were hazy and faded. This night he hoped to keep clearly in his mind for as long as he lived.

“Thank you.” Neria whispered the words so quietly, he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear them at all.

He turned his head to look at her, watching her breath rise and fall as she stared up at the stars. A soft smile tugged on her lips, and her lashes came to rest on her cheeks as she closed her eyes, more peaceful than he had ever expected to see her.

No, he would not let this memory fade.

*The song was adapted slightly from this codex entry about Andruil.

You can read about the beginning of Neria and Zev’s relationship here! <3

#wipwednesday #zevran arainai #ZevWarden #zevran x warden #Neria Surana #Neria and Zev #my writing #rough draft #Dalish Clan #dalish music

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captain-emmajones · 3 years

Text

let the cat out of the bag

Set during the missing year and expands until somewhere during season 3 B.

Pirates don’t have pets. Hell, Captain Hook -- terror of the High Seas -- does not have pets. So what happens when a devilish black kitten jumps aboard the Jolly Roger once Hook has taken it back from Blackbeard?

I asked @carpedzem what she would like to read, and this is what she came up with. Hopefully it will make you, and others, happy! (Oh, and all mistakes are mine!)

Fluff - 2000 words - Ao3

Tagging some friends who might enjoy this: @itsfabianadocarmo @killiansprincss @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @snowbellewells @elizabeethan

Happy Sunday and happy reading!!

At first, he believes they’re rats. He isn’t pleased about it.

“Mr Smee, I seem to recall I asked you to make sure there weren't any living creatures aboard this ship.”

He isn’t quite sure why, but Smee flushes a bright pink and starts stammering.

“...And I did, Captain, I did b-but --”

Killian Jones is a man of many things, but one of patience he isn’t.

“-- but what, Mr Smee? I don’t think it is that arduous to take care of such matters.” His words come out like sharp, drawn blades and threaten to slash his first mate’s round cheeks. “But if it is, I’ll make sure to ease you of this task.”

And he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth for good measure.

“I -- I will do everything I can, Captain.”

A smirk. “Let’s just hope that is enough, Mr Smee.”

But the thing is, it doesn’t bloody stop. The vermin keeps pestering him.

Hook wakes up to open doors, cannot stroll down the deck of the Jolly Roger without seeing a shadow run along with him, until, until --

“Now, what are you doing here?”

The troublemaker stands on top of his bed, on all fours, green eyes sparkling in the orange light of this late afternoon and seems quite ready to roar at his very face.

A petulant meow answers him.

“MISTER SMEE.”

He is furious, of course. Smee, however, thinks -- maybe, all things considered -- the plank isn’t so bad.

“I can explain every-everything, Captain…”

“I want none of your explanations, Mr Smee. I want you to get rid of this .”

A very indignant meow echoes on the ship.

“It must have gotten on the ship when we took it back from Blackbeard, Captain, and I hadn’t noticed for a while but then I could hardly throw him in the waters…”

A deep, guttural groan.

“As soon as we reach port, this thing is out of my ship. Have I made myself clear, Mr Smee?”

“A-abundantly clear, Captain.”

When he goes back to his cabin that night, stomach full and mind lulled by rhum, he doesn’t exactly expect to see the small nuisance lying comfortably on his bed, very much at ease indeed.

The thing is staring at him with its big, green eyes, and Hook frowns.

“Those are my quarters. Get out.”

Another impish meow answers him. If it could, Hook is convinced it would raise an eyebrow at him.

Another sigh of discontent. “I said get out of my bed. Now.” And as he stretches his hand to push the kitten out-of-the-way, it simply raises his head and meets its palm in approval.

Hook’s eyes widen. “Do you think I’m that easily charmed?” And as if to assert that yes, most absolutely, he is that easily charmed, the small cat purrs against his hand and licks his skin.

And Hook suddenly wonders why the hell he is letting this happen.

Clearing his throat, his hand closes over the small, black body and drops it onto the floor.

“There, and do not come to bother me anymore.”

A meow echoes in the night.

He wakes up to something fluffy tingling against his cheek and that alone rings an alarm in his head and causes his eyes to shoot open.

“What the hell…” but the end of his sentence dies as the small vermin stares at him, and seems to s m i l e at him.

Hook groans. “Get out of here,” he mumbles, and pushes the kitten to the side.

And he does not want to ponder over how gently he actually urged the cat to disappear nor does he want to think about the little, warm bubble swelling comfortably inside his chest (next to the big bubble of annoyance, of course).

The cat has been on the ship with them for two weeks when they finally reach port and can get rid of him. In the meantime, he has settled his quarters in Hook’s room.

“I see the kitten is quite fond of you, Captain?”

“Do you want to find out if the bloody plank is fond of you, Mr Smee?”

“N-no, of course, Captain, no.”

To prevent him from sleeping in his bed, Hook settled an old bed cover in the farthest corner of his room -- since the bloody thing won’t be kept out of it anyway.

“There, and don’t you move, you devil.”

He starts to call it that , in his head, the kitten: devil. It suits him well. And it makes it sound more pirate-worthy than kitten anyway.

He doesn’t utter the words aloud. Would rather walk the bloody plank himself. Pirates don’t have pets.

“Since I can’t trust you to take care of vermines on this ship, I’ll get rid of the bloody thing myself.”

And as his crew pillages and plunders a nearby village, Hook ventures out of his ship, the little devil gesticulating down in his satchel.

He isn’t even jealous of the lost opportunity. He hasn’t felt like pillaging and plundering in a while, now. Not since he left Storybrooke, not since the red-headed mermaid visited him and he --

Hook sighs and sits down, near the port, on a bench. His legs feel heavy as stone. He takes out of his satchel his flask of rum, and the little devil, and puts both of them down next to him.

“Don’t move,” he hisses but the small thing instead decides to stretch at his leisure in front of his nose.

“You’re one for mutiny, aren’t you?”

A cheerful meow answers him. And Hook’s lips curve up, just the slightest bit, before he catches himself and frowns furiously.

“I’m going to leave you here, you understand that?”

But the bloody thing apparently cares little for his words, and proceeds instead to climb up his lap and settles himself comfortably against Hook’s stomach.

It is his stomach’s turn to do a weird leaping thing then, as he squares his jaws and bites the interior of his mouth.

There’s been so much loss, hasn’t it? Perhaps he is allowed a little company. Perhaps the journey doesn’t have to be this hard, perhaps he does not have to suffer until the ends of time.

“You don’t want to leave me, do you?”

Other, human, green eyes linger behind Killian’s eyelids, savagely tear his heart apart, because she left.

A meow echoes in the night, and Hook’s fingers reluctantly find the warm, black fur and sieve through it.

“You are one bloody hell of a devil, you know that?”

Pirates may not have pets, but lonely souls do need company, don’t they?

When Hook strides back to the ship that night, and frees the small thing on the lower deck, Smee, at least, has the decency of keeping his mouth shut.

“Make one comment, Mr Smee, and you walk the bloody plank.”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

Sharing his quarters has a lot of cons, if you’d ask Hook.

Such as cleaning his clothes of the devil’s hair, or making sure the small thing has enough to eat and drink, or waking up to it stretched across his bloody face.

But mostly, Hook does think the company is enjoyable. His partner does not speak, purrs at best, and seems to have some supernatural inkling for knowing when his Captain is feeling a bit...aloof, to put it like that.

Hook’s convinced the bloody thing is actually magic, but that he won’t ever tell no living soul.

When he gives up the Jolly Roger, Hook finds two green eyes staring at him.

“I cannot take you with me to Emma, you understand? I don’t even know if animals survive portals.”

A meow answers him, and for the first time Hook thinks it is full of grief.

Something stings, in Hook’s chest, as he waves goodbye to his crew and drops the cat into Smee’s arms.

“I’ll take care of him, Captain.”

“I know you will.”

And when Hook turns back, walks away, he ignores as well as he can this strange, new kind of itching rattling his insides.

Back in Storybrooke, Hook figures just to what extent Mr Smee is not a man for subtlety.

He basically throws the damn demon into his arms, on the docks, where everyone can bloody see them.

“What the hell are you doing, Mr Smee?”

Hook does not acknowledge the joy that swirls around his legs as the small thing purrs against him.

“Giving you back what is yours. I can’t take it any longer, he is insufferable.”

And Hook is ready to attack right back, as the demon nibbles his fingers with a cheerful fervor, but then the worst happens.

Emma.

Emma is striding towards him, with Henry, and he has a bloody kitten in his arms.

“Didn’t know you were one to have pets…” she attacks right then, Smee long gone, and the small devil very much settled in the crook of his arm.

Hook gulps down, almost frozen. Later, he’ll wonder why he did not put him down. That would have saved him some embarrassment.

“It’s not what you think, Swan.”

“Isn’t it?” she smirks, and then -- because things can always get worse -- she bends down towards the little devil and scratches between his ears.

But then she is smiling that very rare smile and Hook starts to think perhaps the little devil isn’t such a nuisance anymore.

“What’s his name?” she asks, and the things purrs , goddamn purrs under her touch, and Hook feels utterly betrayed.

“It doesn’t have a name,” he echoes right back, mock-indignant.

She raises her eyes towards him, quirks one eyebrow. It has a terrible effect on Hook’s heart rate.

“Come on, don’t lie. All pets have names.”

“No. Not this one. Actually, it’s not a pet.”

“Oh yeah, then what is it?”

The devil purrs.

“It's merely an animal that got lost on my ship during the missing year, is all.”

Emma’s smirking, again. And Hook isn’t blushing.

“Let's call you Sparrow, then.”

Something revolts inside Hook. It isn’t his name.

“Sparrow? And why the bloody hell is that?”

“Because Captain Jack Sparrow” echoes Henry on reaching them, giving up his video game to devote his attention to the small cat.

Bloody hell.

As things turn out, Emma never lets him live it down and everyone in Storybrooke knows Captain Hook’s cat, Sparrow, lives with him at Granny’s.

“I have a no-pet-policy, Hook, but for your pretty eyes I’ll make an exception.”

Hook swallows down a list of elaborate insults and plasters a smile on his face. “Why, thank you, Granny.”

One night, however, the bloody thing isn’t to be found in his room and Captain Hook does not worry about cats but he does stare out his window impatiently, trying to get a glimpse of a black furry tail -- not that he’d admit it.

But then something quite unlikely happens. Someone knocks on the door while he’s showering.

A towel around his hips, Hook opens to find Emma Swan in her pajamas, Sparrow comfortable between her arms.

If Hook’s heart skips multiple beats, it does please him to see Emma’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she takes in his state of undress.

“I’m-- I’m…” she begins, has a very hard time coming up with words, it seems, and then exhales sharply: “I found your cat in my room. Under my bed. Which is why it took me so long to find him, actually.”

Hook smirks. “That’s a plausible excuse for visiting me at night, Swan, but next time don’t stand on ceremony.”

She turns even redder, if that is possible, and that sight alone is priceless.

“Right,” she begins, smiling, “There you go.” And she gently drops the little devil between his arms, her touch sending electric trails all over his skin.

Hook gulps down as he notices how close they’ve gotten and he is tempted to bend down but that would be too much, wouldn’t it?

Instead he smiles, swallows down, and watches as she gazes back and forth between his eyes and his lips.

“Thank you, Swan,” he finally exhales and he watches as she seems to come to her senses, bites her lips and backs away.

“No problem. ‘Night, Hook.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

When he closes the door behind him, Sparrow is standing on his bed, green eyes open.

“I’ll admit that was quite a good idea, thank you mate.”

A meow of contentment answers him, as if to say: but you are most welcome.

#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #amy writes #my stuff #this is ridiculous but hopefully the good kind

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 4)

Fandom: TVD / The Originals

Series: Our Little Secret

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 //

Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 (Final)

Pairing: Klaus x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 2,552

Summary: It’s the Mikaelson family ball and Y/N just wants to have a magical evening with Klaus, but nothing is ever as it seems in Mystic Falls.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce // @april-14-blog // @akshi8278

It was a dance, it was just a dance, so why were you feeling so self-conscious?

Klaus had figured that it would be the best way to keep you safe, now that his family already knew about you going out in public together, and meeting his mother, seemed like the best way to ensure no blood would be spilled.

You’d noticed a change in Klaus recently, spending more time with his mother and family had given him a more optimistic approach to the future, and you were happy to see that this future he envisioned contained you.

He’d left you a dress, a gorgeous off the shoulder saphire ball gown, the price of which you didn’t even want to think about as you stroked the fabric on its hanger. Perfect fit, not that you were surprised, Klaus had always had an eye for that sort of thing.

Glancing back at that dress as you did your hair and make up, you started to feel optimistic too, maybe things were finally starting to look up In Mystic Falls, maybe...

Elena wasn’t happy that you were going with Klaus, but she’d been too preoccupied with something else to put up much of an argument, which wasn’t like her. There was definitely something else going on, but her and the Salvatores were keeping you in the dark. You’d never exactly been in their inner circle as such, but you knew they were keeping even more from you now that you were with Klaus, you just hoped everything was okay.

The house was swarming with elegantly dressed people as you arrived, Klaus waiting outside for you, arm out to take. His face lit up when he saw you, taking in the dress like he’d never seen it before, even though he’s the one who bought it.

All your fears about tonight melted away when you saw his smile, all that you wanted to focus on tonight was the two of you.

“Hello, love,” Klaus greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, “you look perfect,” you blushed, smoothing down the skirt of the dress as he smirked. Dresses weren’t usually your thing, especially something as fancy as the one you had on now.

“Thanks,” you replied, straightening out his tie a little before heading into the main room. You couldn’t help but look around in awe, the Mikaelson household was... impressive to say the least, it took your breath away. The columns, the marble, the chandelier... They certainly had refined taste, you guessed after a thousand years anyone would.

Klaus twirled you slightly as he led you onto the main floor, where some couples were already enjoying a moderately slow dance, it looked like a fairytale. It felt like one too as Klaus put a hand on your waist, leading you into a dance.

You couldn’t help but smile, looking up at Klaus as he looked at you in wonder, he was mesmerised by you. “I’m glad we get to do this,” you told him. Your friends and sister hadn’t arrived yet, so you were glad for some uninterupted moments with Klaus, and you relaxed into the magic of it all.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be here with,” he told you honestly, spinning you in time with the music and pulling back into him closer than before, faces inches apart as he dipped you gently. This was all that you’d wanted, to be out with Klaus in public, everything else a million miles away, you could almost forget about anything else that had happened, and for a second you allowed yourself to feel normal. You were just a girl, and he was a boy, and you were enjoying a dance.

That fantasy didn’t last long though, as you spotted Damon, Stefan, and Elena entering as Klaus leaned in for a kiss. He stopped when he noticed your expression harden a little, turning to see them enter. Elena’s eyes went straight to the two of you, flanked by the Salvatore’s like they were her bodyguards.

She looks amazing, she always did, and with the Salvatores looking like that, it looked like some kind of cat walk as they swept across the floor and into the hall. You and Klaus paused your dance as the music began to change.

“Everything alright love?” Klaus asked you with a nod in the direction of your sister. You wanted to say yes but honestly you weren’t sure, they couldn’t be planning anything for tonight could they? Besides, what was there to plan, everyone was on peaceful terms now, weren’t they?

“I hope so,” you said honestly, not being able to give him a proper answer as you saw the rest of his siblings fill into the hall. Most of the guests had arrived now, Klaus would be going to help make a toast with his family soon, and then you’d be formally meeting them as his girlfriend.

You felt extra nervous, you’d probably have felt the usual level of nervous meeting your boyfriend’s family if he was a regular human, but Klaus was a thousand year old Original vampire, whose siblings were just as old and whose mother was a seriously powerful witch. No big deal right?

“They’ll love you,” he tried to reassure you, sensing the dread that was creeping in. He seemed so sure, so happy now, you wished you were as confident as him about this whole situation, but you still had this feeling, something you couldn’t shake.

But you tried, putting on another smile as you squeezed his hand, “well as long as you do, that’s all that matters,” you told him as Elijah called everyone to attention, standing in the middle of the spiral staircase, glass in hand for a toast.

Klaus winked at you, kissing you on the cheek quickly as he made his way to where his siblings were taking their places. You gravitated a little towards Elena, not wanting to stick out too much in the crowd as the Mikaelson’s began to look around at the guests.

You had a sinking feeling that some were sizing up their next meals, but you tried to shake that feeling, you eyes shooting to the new figure that appeared next to the siblings. She was older, more mature looking and dressed like she knew just how powerful she was. Her very stance seemed to command respect as she listened to Elijah make his toast.

Esther, their mother, you realised as you watched her, only half listening to what Elijah was saying, noting the way her eyes skimmed the crowd, looking between you and Elena curiously as she did.

Elijah wrapped up and everyone toasted, the Mikaelson’s all making their way down on the main floor to mingle. Klaus made a beeline straight for you, looking proud as his mother headed in the same direction.

You and Elena shared a look, and you could tell she was concerned about you, but she gave you a small supportive nod, one which you returned as you took a breath and met Klaus half way.

“Mother, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is my mother,” Klaus introduced the two of you, unable to contain a happiness you’d rarely, if ever, seen on him so openly. Esther offered you her hand to shake, her smile more tight and contained as she surveyed you carefully.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you told her as Klaus put an arm around your back.

She nodded, “the pleasure’s all mine, it’s good to finally meet the person whose made my Niklaus so happy, thank you.” Klaus looked a little embarrassed but your heart couldn’t help but swell.

“Well he makes me happy too,” you told her, not sure why you’d felt so nervous about meeting her. It’s not like you needed anyone else’s approval to be with Klaus, that much had been clear already, but you had to admit, it felt very good to be accepted by Klaus’ mother.

Klaus clearly looked like he felt the same way as he looked between you and his mother. That’s what was different, you realised, Klaus looked younger almost now, not so much weathered by the years now, like his mother being here had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

“I would love to stay and chat, but I think I best do some rounds first,” Esther excused her self, looking back at you for a second with an expression you couldn’t quite read before she headed off. You didn’t have a chance to think about what that meant before Klaus practically swept you off your feet.

“Another dance?” He offered you a hand very dramatically, dipping into it as he grinned at you, practically bowing.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you giggled, curtseying as best you could as accepting his hand, letting him bring you back onto the dance floor.

You lost track of Esther quickly, as Elena, but you didn’t give it as much thought as you should have done, too caught up in the moment with Klaus, your worry pushed away. Later, you’d wished you had given it more thought, realised that the evening had been so perfect that it must have been too good too be true.

But soon you were laughing and dancing with Klaus, so caught up in your own temporary happiness as you shared a champagne toast with all the other guests and enjoying the delicious food being served.

Before you knew it, Klaus was walking you home, both of you happy and content with your amazing night, his jacket over your shoulders as you talked and laughed. It was dark, but you could see the stars as you walked. Elena was already home when you arrived on your front steps, the light shining from the living room and her bedroom.

Your hand was still in Klaus’ when you paused at the door. “Tonight was perfect,” Klaus said, wrapping his arms lazily around you as he drew you in for a goodbye kiss. You were a little lightheaded when he eventually pulled away, or maybe it was the champagne, but whatever it was it had left a warm and pleasant feeling all over you.

“Yeah it was,” you replied, resting your forehead against Klaus’. “Goodnight Klaus.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” Klaus said finally, accepting his jacket back from you as he gave you another quick kiss, neither of you wanting this night to end but knowing that it had to.

You didn’t go inside straight away as Klaus headed down your steps, looking back at you multiple times before he disappeared from sight. Only then did you sigh, taking a breath before straightening up. Tonight had been a dream, but you knew it was about time to face reality.

Elena and the Salvatores had mercifully left you both alone most of the night, besides the occasional small talk, or back talk where Damon was concerned, so you didn’t know quite what to expect when you headed in. But it was time to face the music.

You unlocked the door and headed inside, not finding Elena in the living room or kitchen as you made yourself a glass of water, finally slipping off your heels and wandering up the stairs, a small smile still on your face as you made your way to your room.

Elena was clearly in hers, her door open a crack to reveal other figures too, Damon and Stefan no doubt, you thought as you opened your door, pausing as you caught your name being mentioned.

“Y/N will never forgive me,” you heard Elena saying, conflict clear in her voice as Damon scoffed.

“It’s for her own good, and for the good of everyone else,” he replied, “he’s a monster, and none of them are innocent, she’ll realise that eventually.” Were they talking about Klaus, the Mikaelsons?

“Damon’s right Elena,” Stefan agreed, “we’re better off without them.” You swallowed hard, not even daring to breath as you kept listening, hand frozen on your door handle. Without them?...

“Esther’s giving us a free pass, a way to kill the Originals once and for all, and I say we take it, you’ve already done the first step,” Damon said as your face turned to one of shock and horror.

They were going to kill the Mikaelson’s, kill Klaus, and Esther was helping them... That’s where they both disappeared off you, you realised, kicking yourself for letting your guard down, not registering what was happening right in front of you.

Damon saw you then out of the crack in the door, face falling as you turned quickly, dropping both your shoes and glass of water. It clattered to the floor as you tried to make your way down the stairs, but Damon was much quicker than you, blocking your path.

Stefan and Elena made their way out of the room then too, and Elena at least had the good sense to seem guilty as she stared at you.

“Well this won’t do,” Damon said, standing firm as you tried to push past him.

“I won’t let you do this,” you told them. Why couldn’t they see that Klaus wasn’t the demon they all thought he was? The Mikaelson’s were making a home for themselves here, they didn’t want anymore trouble...

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Damon informed you as Elena cast him a warning look, “what? We can’t let her tell Klaus.”

Elena was at a loss for words so Stefan spoke up. “Damon’s right, she’ll warn him the first chance she gets, we need to do something with her.”

“I’m standing right here,” you interjected angrily, “and you are not going to do anything to me. Elena-” you pleaded to your sister as she shared a look with Damon, having a silent conversation you couldn’t follow before they both looked back to you.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it’ll all be okay, you’ll see, this will only be temporary I swear-” she tried to explain but you were hardly following.

“Elena what the hell are you talking about?” You demanded, your stomach dropped as strong hands grabbed you. Stefan looked sorry, but Damon was clear in his objective as he whisked you away from your sister, your house.

Before you knew it you were in a dark room, whirling around to find Damon shutting a large door. You were back at the Salvatore house, you were in the damn dungeons.

“Damon!” You yelled, slamming into the door as it shut, locking you in. “Damon!” You tried again but he shook his head.

“Sorry Y/N, but it’s for your own good,” he told you through the bars as you slapped and pushed at the wood, unable to do anything.

“You can’t leave me down here!” You cried out as he turned to walk away.

“It won’t be for long,” he promised, but it was a cold comfort for the one stuck in a cell.

You screamed in frustration, not saying anything in particular as Damon left, leaving you all alone, with no way to warn Klaus... They had a way to kill him, and you were stuck here, unable to do anything.

Sobbing you fell back against the door, slipping to the floor and curling your knees up to your chest.

What the hell were you going to do now?

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries imagines #our little secret

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littlespaceporgs · 4 years

Note

Omg some Rex fluff?? No 60 from prompt list one, “But I want to hear you sing.” Can you imagine Rex saying that?? So cute my heart 🥺🥺

A/N: Welp I had fun writing this, I’ve written it as a part ii to The Captain and The Medic - which if you click, it’ll take you to part i, but as I usually do, it can also be read independently!

The Captain and The Medic - Part ii

Word Count: 1.9k Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader Summary: You got reassigned as the new 212th medic, and during a new campaign, Rex gets injured. Chaos and stress ensues. Partly because of the 3 jedi who can’t seem to sit still.

Tags :DDD : @peacelandbread @valkyrieofthehighfae @mcu-padawan @catsnkooks @littlevodika @cherrykenobi @hounding-around @lesqui @captainrexstan

Medics were becoming few and far between as the war dragged out, even the Jedi healers were short-handed. It was for this reason that you were reassigned after a year and a half of serving with the 501st. Admittedly, you weren’t far, only going to the 212th.

You already knew a fair few members among the ranks, having to handle General Kenobi’s penchant for also never seeing a medic, something that the bastard well-respected Jedi Master had regretfully passed on down his lineage. You’d seen Waxer and Boil, when they returned with a secret small creature of some kind that needed medical attention, and you had a bone knitter on hand for Cody, who still had not shaken the habit of punching kriffing droids – which you had pleaded him to stop doing, if not for his own sake for yours, because using one of them was a rather tedious task.

It made for good entertainment, and it kept you busy, but it just didn’t compare to seeing Rex every day.

So when you were placed on the on the same campaign, excitement flooded through you, in the form of pure elation, drowning out the weariness of the amount of injuries that came with the news of a new campaign. That brings you to now, where you were waiting not so patiently with Cody and General Kenobi, expecting an arrival shortly from the 501st. Anakin Skywalker was the first off the ship immediately heading for Kenobi, with Ahsoka following half a step behind him. Ahsoka grinned widely and waved at you, and you let out a laugh at the girl’s antics. Giving a questioning glance to her Master, which he responded with a nod, she suddenly burst into a run, heading straight for you. You let out a low grunt when she smacked into you, and squeezed tightly. When Cody snickered, you silenced him with a quick glare.

“Hello, Commander Tano.”

“Hey Doc!”

General Skywalker nodded at you from where he stood with Kenobi, and pulling away from Ahsoka, you sent them both a curious glance.

“You lot haven’t been causing too much trouble for Kix while I’ve been gone?”

“Oh come on, Doc, we would never.” A new voice answered, unfiltered by the helmet he usually wore. You grinned and spun back around, to see your Captain stepping off the ramp, grinning all the while. You laughed and shot into his arms, smiling when he kissed your temple. Without hesitation, you took his face in your hands and kissed him hard. He grinned against your lips, technically neither of you were on duty yet. Your heart swelled in that moment, even seconds together – while not even close to being enough – after a few weeks made you almost blissful. He pulled away for a second, and tapped a finger on your wrist guard.

“Good to see you’ve replaced our stripes already.” He gestured to the newer, thick yellow line that was now painted next to the two blue, already starting to chip away after weeks of working.

“Oh please.” You rolled your eyes and gently slapped his arm, you wanted to catch up more, fill him in on the past few days, but Skywalker interrupted the two of you.

“Alright lovebirds, sorry doc, but I need to steal my Captain away, you can have him back when this is over and done with.” You laughed, but leant up and pressed a kiss on his cheek before he started in the same direction as the General’s and Commander’s.

“Just make sure you return him to me in one piece please? ” Cody had whacked him on the shoulder then, and you grinned harder. “Oh, and Cody?” The Commander spun and looked at you, and took in your folded arms and disgruntled expression. “Do not punch any droids today, otherwise I can and will amputate your arm.” The poor man looked thoroughly disturbed as Ahsoka broke out with a bright grin and elbowed them both, and Rex spun and gave you a thumbs up, mid-laugh. He mouthed an ‘I love you’ and begun to follow after Kenobi and Skywalker, Cody and Ahsoka still trying to tease him. You watched as he shoved them back, as they disappeared down a corridor and out of sight. Despite the light-hearted nature of the interaction, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today would go badly.

Your heart was racing when he was brought in. There was blood spilling from a gash on his forehead, and you could see when his chest plate moved with his breathing, it wasn’t quite right, rising in two separate motions. It had stopped you from moving, eyes staring after him as Kix started his work. Your muscles were begging you to let you run to him, to help Kix in anyway you could, despite knowing that he was a very capable medic, and no further harm would come to him here.

Your patient, who when you turned around was giving you an almost amused smirk under all the dirt that was caked on him, cleared his throat.

“You know, you could just go and help him, I’ll be fine.” You made a noise half-way between a sigh and a groan, before shoving your anxieties away. He’ll be fine. You had worse problems to deal with, like preventing a dumbass wise Jedi that didn’t know what taking care of himself first was from escaping the medbay.

“And leave you to try and escape again? No chance, General.” He flinched gently as you prodded his ribs, which you determined were likely broken on account of Grievous hitting him with a well-aimed kick. Kenobi feigned a confused look.

“I would nev-” You rolled your eyes before he cut himself off with a groan as you pressed against another rib.

“Yes, you would. You’re already going to be here for the night, don’t force me to make it two,” his smirk flattened as he gave you a blank look. “If I had half a mind, I would keep you here for a week, considering I’ve now had to deal with yours, your padawan’s and your padawan’s padawan bad habits of not coming to or just plain trying to escape the medbay!”

Hours later, once the sun had set, you’d finally gotten the stubborn Jedi to remain in place. Kix was around the medbay somewhere, and almost everyone in here was silent, in a dead sleep after a hard-fought battle. You’d started singing a lullaby in mando’a under your breath, hoping that actively thinking about the lyrics would keep you awake, even as your hands were trembling slightly and your feet ached. You wouldn’t have to stay in the medbay too much longer, Kix would wake up soon and take over the rest of the night shift, as all there is left to do in these hours is monitor heart rates and make sure those who were awake weren’t in pain.

You stopped by Rex’s side, looking up at the monitor, all the while you kept singing quietly. You looked down to your datapad to enter the reading, and noticed that the beeping of the machine had increased. Sure enough, when you looked again, his heart rate was much higher than what it had been earlier, on instinct you felt your own skyrocket at the thought of something being wrong. You immediately stopped singing and turned to look at his face, where his nose was scrunched, and you could see the movements of his eye beneath his eyelids.

“Rex?”

And one of his eyes cracked open slightly, you sighed heavily in relief. He’s awake.

His mouth pulled into a soft smile to mirror your face, both of his eyes trying to blink the tiredness away. Your eyes began to water as you took a seat beside his bed, and took one of his hands in your own. Slowly, he squeezed back.

“Hey, cyar’ika.” His voice was gravelly and thick with sleep, but it was a good sign that he could recognise you and speak at all.

“Hello, my love,” You said, brushing your hand against his cheek, and letting out a quiet, airy laugh when he blinked slowly and leant heavily into your hand. He was quite possibly still feeling the effects of the pain medication he had been put on hours ago. You noticed his eyes started flicking around the medbay, darting from patient to patient. “Can you tell me what the date is and then what happened?”

Still blinking slowly, one hand rubbed his face, and the other squeezed yours again. He spoke the correct date and then began rattling off details about the mission, from Commander Tano running ahead and Skywalker nearly losing his mind at the teenager, all the way up until he very nearly got blown up. You took in a deep breath when he finished his recount, all his memories were intact.

You raised his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss across his knuckles. Tiredly smiling at you, he reached up and tucked a hair behind your ear. The relief you felt was palpable as he seemed to be mostly there. You stood from the chair, untangling his hands from your hair, and checking the box on the datapad, signifying no signs of serious damage. You stared at his face once more, eyeing the cut on his temple and just taking in all the details.

“Alright, Rex, get some more rest in please. You’re likely going to be cleared tomorrow, so you’re going to need to be in good shape.” He groaned and grabbed your hand again, moving his thumb in small circles. Okay, maybe he was still on too many meds.

“Riddur, you need sleep, and I have more patients to see.” In an unusual show of emotion, he pouted.

“But I just want to hear you sing?” You flushed, knowing that he had most definitely heard you when you first walked over. You laughed softly, and brushed his cheek again.

“Is that what it’ll take for you to go back to sleep?” He spent a second thinking on it, before he nodded once, barely perceptible if you weren’t standing beside his head. Definitely still feeling the after-effects of the meds. You leant down and kissed him gently, stepping back before murmuring the soothing words in mando’a. He sighed and his eyes slid shut, as you walked away, allowing him to drift off, listening to the soft-spoken voice that sounded like honey and reminded him of a home that he had with only one person.

BONUS:

“No, you are not cleared!”

“I feel fine-”

“That means the pain meds are working! General Kenobi, three of your ribs are broken, and literally every other rib is bruised!”

“Doc, I’m sure Obi-wan is-”

“No, Skywalker, he is not! My medbay, my rules! And my rule is that he stays until he’s healed!”

“We outrank you, you know that right?”

“Not here, you don’t!”

“But-”

“Don’t you start, I could confine you here as well! Don’t think I didn’t see you injure your shoulder!”

“Kark, nope, Ahsoka, let’s go.”

“Anakin!”

#rex x reader #star wars #fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #star wars fanfic #tcw #anakin skywalker #captain rex #ahsoka tano #captain rex x reader #commander cody #kix #The Captain and The Medic #but make it part ii #FLOOF

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idnek83 · 3 years

Text

Aid - Chapter 10/13

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - Island Mode, No Game Spoilers, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Grinding, Wet Dreams, Anal Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Sex

Summary: Everyone is hot and half naked because of their beach vacation. Soda is horny and tries to do something about it. Gundham tries to help and does. It all gets a little out of hand.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda finally talks about his feelings: Soda stumbles, Gundham nearly breaks.

_____________________

Soda woke to a ray of sun on his face.

He shifted to try to get the light away from his eyes, sliding his head up from Gundham’s chest to his shoulder. Gundham was still sleeping soundly, and Soda took a moment to enjoy the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, bringing his hand up to rest over his heart. It beat steadily, Soda closed his eyes and synched his breaths with Gundham’s while he listened to that steady, comforting beat.

He wanted to wake up like this everyday. Slowly, peacefully, and being held by the man…

The man he loved.

He turned his reddened face to hide it in Gundham’s chest. He knew exactly what he had been feeling, and he knew he couldn’t deny it anymore. The way Gundham had made him feel as he had cried in his arms, the way he made him feel when he called him all those strange names and flashed him those soft smiles… he knew what that feeling was. He had known for a while.

He had just been too scared to admit it.

Now, warmed by the early sunlight and Gundham’s arms, tucked into his side and listening to his heart, even the fear couldn’t make him deny it anymore.

He felt doubt creeping back into his brain as he continued to slowly wake. He tried to push it back, tried to enjoy the moment just a bit longer…

But his feelings didn’t matter. There was no way Gundham could feel the same, not about someone like him. Gundham was tall, and smart, and handsome, and kind, and funny, and… and he was just Soda. Stupid, average looking at best, quick to anger, and slow to catch on, even to his own feelings.

No one could want him.

He felt a sleepy kiss pressed into his hair and opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he had started crying again, but Gundham was already wiping away his tears. Everything he had already been feeling swelled up in his chest and he knew this was it.

No more waiting.

“I’m ready to talk.”

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but he knew Gundham heard him, felt the way the arm around his back pulled him a little closer, felt another kiss to his forehead and a hand combing through his hair.

“I’m here.” Gundham’s voice was quiet too, rough with sleep and even deeper than usual. Soda hoped he would be able to hear it that way again. “Do you wish me only to listen? Or would you like me to speak as well?”

“I love it when you speak.” He spoke the words without consciously deciding to, but he couldn’t take them back now. He distracted himself by smoothing his hand across Gundham’s chest, and he felt a hand squeeze his hip lightly.

“Then I will.” He felt both their hearts beat a little faster.

“I…” He remembered the last time they had really spent any time together, that breakfast with just the two of them that had been so great until- “I’m sorry about… our breakfast the other day, I, uh, kinda ruined it by storming off like that.”

“Certainly that is not what has been weighing on your mind all this time?” Gundham didn’t sound upset, he just sounded curious.

“I, uh, no? But I feel like I should, like, get it out of the way? I really do feel bad about it so, um… sorry.” It felt stupid, but it also felt like a weight off his shoulders.

“I… cannot deny I was curious about the situation. I understand the dark queen was being somewhat rude but-”

“What?”

“Hm? Sonia. She was acting quite coldly towards you, but I do not understand why you reacted so strongly on that particular occasion.”

“I- but I mean I, like, kind of deserved that, didn’t I? I mean I… I’ve been treating her pretty badly for a while now…�� Soda started nervously drawing shapes on Gundham’s chest. What was he saying? He had already gone over the whole situation in his mind; it had been his fault, even if Sonia had been a little rude, it was only because he deserved it.

Gundham heaved a heavy sigh, and Soda kind of enjoyed the way his own head rose and fell with it.

“We spoke, after you left.” Soda looked up to try to see what kind of face Gundham was making, but he was staring up at the ceiling. He would have had to sit up to see his face, and he wasn’t willing to move away from Gundham, even a little.

Not yet.

“What… did you talk about?” Soda knew. He had stormed off and they had talked about how much he had overreacted. They talked about how rude he was and how stupid he was for ever thinking Sonia would like him.

How stupid he was for thinking anyone would like him.

He pushed the side of his face back into Gundham’s chest.

Not yet.

“The two of you… you do not treat each other fairly.” Gundham began to rub his back. “You do not give Sonia the space she requires, not do you treat her as an equal, but rather, as some ideal being. She does not appreciate it.” Yeah, he already knew that. He was a creep who had obsessed over her without ever bothering to notice he was making her uncomfortable, and without bothering to get to know the real her.

“And the dark queen, she…” Hates Soda and is completely justified in it? He knew that too. “She treats you too harshly.” What? “She behaves as if you are not there, only acknowledging your presence when she stands to gain something.”

“What?”

“Do you disagree?” Gundham looked down at him quizzically.

“Well, no? But I, uh, kinda deserve it? Like it’s my fault she treats me like that so-”

Gundham heaved another sigh and kissed his forehead again. Soda wished he had been counting, he wanted to remember every one of those little kisses once this was all over.

Not yet.

“You are too hard on yourself, my sweet consort.” Soda didn’t know what to say. Gundham was just saying that to make him feel better, right? “You are partly at fault, but even the dark queen admits her hand helped shape the situation.”

What? Sonia thought-? But it had all been Soda’s fault, hadn’t it?

Hadn’t it?

“But I am curious, my consort, this situation is not new, and I do not recall ever witnessing you react so… strongly to it before. What caused you to have such a volatile reaction?”

It was Soda’s turn to sigh. He rolled onto his back, keeping his head on Gundham’s shoulder.

Not yet.

“I- hm, I guess it had kinda been building up for a while? Like, even though she treats me like I don’t exist, I really like her.” He blushed a little at the admission and looked up at Gundham. He looked… confused? Huh? He thought everyone knew he liked Sonia, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Well whatever, Gundham was probably thinking about something else. He looked back at the ceiling. “Like, I realize we’re probably never going to date or anything cus, well, like you just said, I kinda treat her… or I guess we both kinda treat each other like shit?” It felt weird to say it like that, ‘we both’ like he actually wasn’t the only one responsible. “But, I can’t really help how I feel about her, right? Like, feelings don’t just stop cus you know it’s not gonna work out, y’know?”

Gundham still looked like he was thinking pretty hard about something, but he responded with a little nod and hummed in agreement.

“So yeah, I guess I was frustrated? And it just kept building and building, and then… Well, you remember how she told me to apologize to you? For ignoring you? Like, I wasn’t even ignoring you! I was just kinda spacy! But it just- I mean, her asking me to apologize for ignoring someone? It just like- I couldn’t handle that. It just, ugh, it pissed me off so much! But I didn’t want to, like, yell at her like a jerk or something so… I just left, y’know?”

“Mm, I… suppose I understand. It was rather hypocritical of her.” Gundham still looked like he was thinking hard about something. Had he said something weird? “I… did not realize you still held feelings for Sonia at that time.” Gundham looked at him then. He looked… concerned now? Upset maybe? Was he just worried about Soda’s weird obsession with Sonia then?

“Yeah, I uh, probably should have gotten over it a long time ago, huh? But-” he took a deep breath and sat up so he could face Gundham.

Now.

“I guess you just really can’t, um, control who you like, right?” He could feel himself blushing, could feel it spreading over his whole body. But he could do this. He was going to do this.

“So, you… still have feelings for her?” Why was Gundham so caught up on that? He started sitting up too, giving Soda another one of those confused, concerned looks.

Probably best to just tell him the truth, don’t want to start this thing with a lie.

“Y-yeah. I’ve given up on her, but even then, it’s not like feelings just go away immediately.” He forced a laugh. Why did it feel so awkward suddenly?

“I… see.” Gundham wasn’t looking at him. “I… appreciate your honesty.”

What was that supposed to mean? What the hell was going on in Gundham’s head? Maybe he should wait to-

No. No more waiting, no more chickening out. It was time to do this.

“Yeah, um, I mean I actually think this whole thing with you really helped-“

Gundham’s head snapped up.

“Thing?” Huh? Had Gundham sounded… angry just then?

“Uh, yeah, like the ‘pact’ thing? An, um, ‘aiding’ each other?”

Gundham narrowed his eyes, he looked like he was thinking hard again. What the hell was happening? Did Gundham know what he was about to say? Was he just grossed out and trying to think of a way to get Soda out of his cabin before he could say it? He’d better hurry up…

“Um, anyways, this has all really helped me realize some, uh, things about myself like, what I want and how I want people to treat me and stuff… and, um, I know this has really just been, like, a sex thing but-”

“Just a sex thing?” Gundham hissed out the words. Yeah, that time he had definitely been angry.

“Y-yeah?” Why was Gundham so upset? He watched him take a few deep breaths as he regained his composure.

“I did not realize that is all you thought this was.” Gundham swallowed, he looked like he was trying hard to keep his face neutral. “I did not think our pact to be simply… carnal.” He practically spit the last word.

Shit, what? Gundham had thought they were more than fuck buddies? What? Gundham was standing now, looking for his clothes.

“Wait, what? I-” Did that mean? “So, then, do you, like, like me?” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

“Much more than you like me, it would seem.” Gundham pulled on his pants and wasn’t looking at Soda. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Wait, I-I think I misunderstood-“

Gundham turned and fucking glared at him.

“What are the odds, it would appear I misunderstood as well.” He practically shouted, the anger fell from his face, and he just he looked tired. “I did not realize I was… just a sex thing to you.”

Gundham tossed him his clothes.

“Leave me. I… need to think.” He turned from Soda and he heard him take a deep, shaky breath.

That was it, Gundham hated him. He dressed as quickly as he could then moved towards the door, but… could he really just leave things like this?

“Gundham, I’m-”

“Go.” Gundham seemed to choke on the word. Was he… crying?

Shit, Soda was the worst. No wonder so many people hated him.

He turned, left, and headed directly to his own cabin.

–

He felt empty. He sat on his bed, and he just felt empty. Gundham hated him and he had never even managed to confess. He was such a fuck up.

And Gundham had… he liked Soda? He had pretty much said that, right? And not only that, but he had thought they were more than… ‘just a sex thing.’ God, his own stupid, careless words sounded so much worse every time he replayed them in his head.

So then, Gundham had thought they were basically, like, dating then? And then Soda had fucked him and treated it like a hook-up, and now Gundham never wanted to see him again. He couldn’t even blame him for being so pissed.

He had already had everything he wanted, he was just too god damned stupid to realize it.

And he had just fucked it up forever.

Fuck.

Next Chapter

#Soudam #Soda kazuichi #Gundham Tanaka #Soda/Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #fic #My writing #Fic Aid #Fellas is it gay to be crushed when you find out he thinks you're just fuck-buddies?

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socialxcatastrophe · 4 years

Text

Prom

Pairing: Hinata x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff- A tiny tease of smut >~<

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,040

Summary: You going to prom with Hinata.

A/N: First Tumblr story. I’ve been working on this foreverrrr, @peaxhcringe finally made me finish and of course helped me when I got stuck because she’s cool. I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know if you want a smut part two. ;)

~~~

“No, I have no idea what I’m going to wear!” You said disappointingly to your best friend and Karasuno’s team manager Kiyoko.

She pushed up her glass on the bridge of her nose and stared off in concentration.

“I know what you’re thinking, don’t worry it’s a not a money thing! I just can’t find one I really like.” You hated lying to her but if she knew you had been running low on funds she’d never stop until you let her help.

She sighed before pointing at the boys who were currently preparing for their practice game against Nekoma next week with a group of guys you hadn’t seen before.

“You idiot!” Kageyama yelled chasing around your boyfriend of 6 months, Hinata.

Hinata squealed bolting across the gym fleeing the scene of the crime. His eyes locked with yours as he had made his way towards the entrance which inevitably caused him to lose his focus and fall flat onto his face.

You giggled covering your lips as Hinata’s bright red face stayed buried on the floor.

“It’s no fun when you punish yourself,” Kageyama said before throwing a volleyball at the base of his neck.

“Hey!” Hinata’s voice echoed as he turned around scowling as Kageyama walked further away.

You walked over to him helping him get off his feet before rubbing your thumb across his cheek that had started to bruise.

You smiled pressing a soft kiss against it before saying, “You really have to be more careful, that’s the third time you’ve fallen this week when I come by.”

He blushed while rubbing the back of his neck, “I know but you’re distracting.”

His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into a tight hug before pulling you across the shiny wooden floor.

“You know Y/N there is only less than a week left until prom, have you found a dress?”

He sat down on the bench and Yamaguchi’s eyes lit up as he was called in and the team switched positions letting him serve.

You sighed as Hinata raised his water bottle chugging down the rest.

“I can’t find one I really like.”

Kiyoko looked at me sadly a few feet from the bench. She knew you had been hiding something as you weren’t the kind of person to not be satisfied with all the dresses I had seen.

Hinata’s face dropped and he laid his head on your shoulder looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed hard before saying yes and trying to change the subject.

He continued to frown and grabbed your hand in his before sitting up and scooching closer to you as they continued the game. We watched as Yamaguchi hit his serve and the ball flew across the court. I watched as Hinata’s eyes followed the ball’s every movement his hand gripping yours tighter as the opposing side knocked it back across the court.

“You know, I’m gonna be the ace one day,” he whispered his eyes focused on his team scattered across the floor, “and I want you to be there to watch!” he finished his eyes locking with yours.

Your face turned a bright red and you hid your face in his shoulder, mumbling “I know you will be” while Kiyoko let out a small chuckle from behind us. You just wish you were someone worthy enough to be by his side.

~TimeSkip 3 days before prom~

“Y/N! It’s beautiful!” Kiyoko gasped as you stepped out of the dressing room.

Your h/l hair was pinned back its h/c waves contouring your face as you spun around in a cyan floor-length gown. The top was a strapless heart shape design connected to the long straight bottom with a variety of rhinestones in between.

“I love it.” You whispered staring at yourself in the full mirror across from you. Your e/c fluttered as you looked yourself up and down admiring the design.

Suddenly, your eyes stopped as you reached for the price tag.

“Maybe I should keep looking…” You said rushing back to the changing room before Kiyoko moved in front of you blocking your way.

“Absolutely not.” Her hands ran across the pricetag before nodding in approval. “I’ll buy it.”

“What!” You shrieked grabbing it from her hands. “There’s no way I’m letting you buy this it’s too much!”

She sighed pushing up her glasses before saying, “Y/n I can afford it, you never let me do anything for you and I want this night to be special, I remember my first dance and I want you to remember yours.”

Your e/c eyes started to tear up as you jumped forward wrapping your arms around her.

“Thank you.” You whispered sniffling against her uniform.

“Of course, Y/n.”

~TimeSkip 3 hours before Prom~

Kiyoko pulled back your h/l h/c slowly curling the edges and letting them fall against your soft s/c skin.

As the final hair fell, the door to her apartment swung open with a smiling Tanaka holding a bouquet of lilac flowers to match her long lavender dress with a medium slit tracing the edge of her pale thighs. He matched by wearing a purple tie against his dark tuxedo. Behind him popped out Nishinoya in an orange tux with a black-tie smiling followed by Asahi in a regular black tux with a white tie.

“Oh, hey we just finished.” She said unplugging the curler and walking over to Tanaka whose face lit up as she smiled taking the flowers.

“Woah Y/n you look great!” Noya said followed by Asahi who hovered over him smiling as Noya’s excitement filled the room.

“You think so?” You said spinning around in front of the wooden vanity where Kiyoko had done your hair.

“He’ll love it.” Asahi said seemingly reading your mind.

You smiled whispering a “Thank you” before following Tanaka and the rest of the gang to the car.

“A limo!” You squealed running up to the shiny exterior.

“I know a guy.” Tanaka’s older sister said, rowing down the dark window on the driver’s side smiling as we gathered near the door.

“Big sister is the best!” Noya said excitedly.

We smiled getting in the limo, its red seats stretched out before us.

“How did you guys afford this?” You whispered picking a seat further away from them letting the couples sit together.

Tanaka smiled pointing to himself “I worked out a deal!”

His sister turned around with an eyebrow raised, “A deal to do my chores for the next 3 months.”

“Why would you say that!” Tanaka whined, hiding against Kiyoko, who rolled her eyes hiding a small smile.

By the time we had got there, Sugawara and Daichi were already by the doors waiting for us and they both had on matching blue suits with black bow ties.

“Welcome to the party!” Suga said, smiling as we all shuffled in.

“Have fun tonight, but don’t stay out too late. We have our practice game against Nekoma tomorrow, now let’s have the time of our lives!” Daichi’s voice rang out loud, a sense of pride behind it.

You smiled walking over to the punch bowl where Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were.

“Y/n!” Yamaguchi excitedly leaned forward in a yellow suit with a white bow tie while Tsukishima leaned against the table in his coral-colored suit with a white bow tie to match Yamaguhci’s.

“Hey.” Tsukishima said

“Hey, guys!” You said, pouring a glass of crimson-colored punch into one of the clear cups nearby.

“Tadashi, I’m bored, can we leave.” Tsuki said, laying his head on his shoulder.

I giggled as Yamaguchi a.k.aYams or Tadashi for Tsuki started to lecture him before a flash of orange in the distance caught your eyes.

Hinata walked in through the gym's doors his hair spiked in its normal fashion but his skin was covered in a black tux with a bright red bow tie and in his hand was a single red rose matching the flush behind his cheeks.

Following behind him was Kageyama in a white suit with a dark black tie who stood next to Yachi who was in a short, ruffled black dress with a white flower tucked behind her ear.

Hinata’s eyes locked with yours from across from the room and his mouth dropped to the floor as his eyes started to move up and down your body. You made your way over to him through the crowd stopping a few feet in front of him.

“Hey-”

“Y/n,” he said, cutting you off, “you look b..eau..tiful…” His speech came out in fragments as he looked at you. Your face grew a bright red as your hands laid against the edges of your dress that trailed slightly behind me.

“Thank you.” You whispered looking down at your matching heels in embarrassment.

His hand swiftly moved to your chin forcing your eyes to meet his again. His other hand pulled yours forward putting the rose in your hands.

Your breath hitched as he started to smile and leaned forward pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

For a moment your eyes were locked on each other before Kageyama waved his hand between us.

“Shouldn’t the newest couple be heading over there?”

We looked over as Daichi and Suga who were making their way to the dance floor soon followed by everyone else.

You both hadn’t noticed the slow song that had begun to play.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, kissing your free hand.

You laughed pulling him to the middle of the floor.

Being the same height as Hinata was probably the easiest part of the relationship as your arms wrapped around his neck the rose hanging delicately between your fingers. His arms wrapped around your waist as you moved slowly in sync with the beat.

“It’s beautiful.” You said pulling one hand between you both, twirling around the rose.

Hinata blushed as you and him watched the rose spin between you. This Town played behind you as Hinata’s face grew into a bright smile before he started to bite the side of his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

You nodded a pink flush under the skin of your cheeks.

He leaned forward, his lips even with yours as pressed against them. The soft and delicate touch, as if not to break you, caused your heart to swell.

His hands moved to the sides of your arms his fingertips leaving goosebumps against your skin. The kiss grew darker as the song started to change the beat speeding up as the new lyrics replaced the empty sound.

He looked at you differently as he pulled away.

“Hinata?” You whispered, concerned, never seeing this side before.

He suddenly leaned forward pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his breath dancing on your neck.

A familiar feeling washed over as you ached to get closer to him. You didn’t want this moment to end. You could stand here, dancing forever in Hinata arms.

Kageyama walked over to us as Hinata pulled away, Yachi’s petite figure racing to keep up with him. Hinata groaned aloud as you both were interrupted.

“King and Queen of prom pick are about to start, if we miss it Daichi will make us run around the school fifty times let’s go short stacks.”

You stuck out your tongue at his ‘clever’ nickname grabbing Hinata’s hand in yours.

“He’s right, last time I made you late to practice Daichi threatened to make me run with the team, regardless of me just visiting, imagine what he will do if we both miss this.”

Hinata’s eyes grew wide and nodded letting you drag him to the corner of the gym where a makeshift stage was small enough to leave plenty of room throughout the area.

Since the room had darkened it was no surprise when a small spotlight lit up the stage, the music faded into the background and you held Hinata’s hand tightly, anxious to see who had won.

“Good evening Karasuno High!” Takeda yelled in excitement, accidentally so loud the microphone screeched.

He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks warming as a few students giggled from the crowd after the sound had stopped.

“I-I my bad guys...anyways who’s ready to give away some crowns!”

The crowd cheered as the nominees stepped forward. So many couples stood on the stage it was hard to see who was who.

“As you know voting took place over a month ago but today these students finally get what they’ve been waiting for!”

The band walked into the gym, a drumroll set to play as Takeda clumsily ripped open the envelope containing their names.

His face grew brighter as his eyes scanned across the card now in his hands.

“For the first time in Karasuno High history, the prom kings are Daichi Sawamura and Kōshi Sugawara!”

The team and you screamed at the top of our lungs as Tanaka and Noya ran on stage jumping on the two as they entered from the back of the crowd.

Kageyama smiled and Hinata jumped up and down screaming at the top of his lungs. Yachi and Kiyoko giggled and clapped while Yam’s face grew into excitement while Tsuki turned his face slightly away, hiding the small smile forming on his face.

Your smile took over your face as you watched Daichi and Suga hug on the stage, the team and your cheers drowning out the rest of the gym. Takeda places the larger crown on Daichi and the smaller on Suga, Daichi leaned over and kissed the brim of his cheek smiling brighter.

“That’s gonna be us one day.” Hinata says smiling, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter.

The rest of prom went by quickly, Hinata and you were growing closer every second of the night.

The gym started to slowly filter out, more and more students leaving, as we slowly helped Takeda clean up the mess.

You looked up and realized the clock was already half past twelve. Daichi and Suga left first, beckoning the rest of us to leave soon as well. Next was Tsuki who was being dragged by Yams towards the entrance after saying something about ice cream. Noya and Asahi left with Tanaka and Kiyoko, taking Kageyama and Yachi with them when Hinata insisted on walking you home since he lived only two blocks away and your house was much closer to the school than Kiyoko’s.

As we walked out, Hinata grabbed your hand, holding it tighter every time someone else looked at us.

“You’re so protective.” You say before sticking your tongue out at him when his cheeks flushed.

“It’s your job.” He said innocently before noticing how you had slowed down.

“What’s wrong?” he said quickly jumping in front you, stopping you from going further without telling him.

His eyes instantly flew down to your feet as you moved one behind the other.

“It’s nothing, really my feet are just a little sore.”

His eyes stared at your feet for a moment, contemplating before leaning down, pulling them off of your feet.

“Now hold these.”

You quickly grabbed the shoes, your feet resting softly against the pavement before Hinata motioned for you to climb on his back.

“Hinata I-”

“I insist, Y/N”

You sighed before climbing onto his back, his arms tucked under your legs.

“You don’t have to do this.” You say muffled against his hair.

He chuckles, his laughter rumbling against your skin.

“I really want to Y/N.”

Your face flushes and he moves forward his feet dragging across the ground slowly as he watched them as if he were afraid he’d drop you.

Your house was getting closer now, just at the end of the street, right across from the next streetlight making your path bright ahead. You watched as Hinata’s feet grew even slower on every step. He finally stopped in front of your house, he gently put you down, the streetlight shining bright enough that you could see the dark cricles starting to form under his eyes as he stared at your front door.

“I don’t want to leave.” He whispered, looking back at you before his eyes shifted back to yours, his face suddenly bright again. “You’re coming to the practice game tomorrow right, I’ll save a spot for you next to Kiyoko, and I’ll win for you!”

His sudden burst of energy made you smile as you nodded leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him, your face buried in his chest.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You say muffled against his soft tux.

“Me too.”

He went quiet for a minute, the pavement growing cold against your bare feet. You looked towards your door which was under a small roof protecting the entrance knowing you’d eventually have to go in.

“Y/N.”

Your face turned back to his, his eyes staring at you, dark like they had been after we kissed.

“Yes?” You say in a whispered voice.

“I-I love you.”

Your face instantly turned a smoldering red as he stared at you, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry-”

“I love you too.” Your voice was louder this time as you leaned forward pressing your lips against his soft pink ones locking with yours.

He hugged you tightly his mouth smiling against your lips. You felt his heartbeat quicken the closer you got, making you suddenly wish you were closer.

His arms started to trace the edge of your dress, his finger moving slowly against the material around your waist before following it to the bottom of your hips. You both had started to move out of the circle of light around you, where the street grew darker. You had only been together for six months but you felt closer to Hinata more than anyone in your life, even if you weren’t the best at expressing it.

His kiss slowly stopped as he breathed heavily against your neck. “Nekoma suddenly doesn’t seem so important.”

“What does..?” You whispered against his jaw.

He groaned, his eyes growing darker than you had ever seen them before.

“You.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hinata #shoyo hinata #smut #fanfic #anime #karasuno #hinata x reader

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