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wolferine · 3 years ago

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Heart Skips a Beat - Part 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture

Word count: 2843

Part 3

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl @bitterlime13 @hallecarey1 @orangewheein @unexpected-character

AN: I apologize if some tags don’t work! Tumblr can’t find some of your usernames.

After listening to Steve’s plan, all four of you—technically five, since Bucky had to tag along—take the Quinjet to Siberia. The goal was to break out the five soldiers in Bucky’s former task force and bring them back to the Avengers Tower, where there was the technology to free their minds from HYDRA.

Each of you were armed with a mask which would spray a powerful sedative into the face it was applied to, keeping the victim unconscious until it was removed. It was the simplest solution to taking down the super soldiers—when Bucky had been skeptical, Natasha had slapped a mask on him and he was out before he hit the floor. You were pretty sure you pulled a muscle from laughing so hard.

Now, you and Natasha sat in the cockpit while the others sat behind you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky says suddenly.

“Yeah?” You don’t even look over your shoulder.

“I’m…sorry for shooting you.”

“Twice,” you clarify. “I didn’t forget the count.”

“Sorry,” he repeats.

“Well, as long as you don’t mistake me for Steve again, I’ll be okay,” you say with a chuckle.

“So, just to reiterate our plan, Bucky will be with me and Clint, and Nat, you’ll be with Y/N,” Steve says.

“Even Captain America knows better than to break up the power couple.” You grin and reach over to put your hand on her thigh. Without taking her eyes off the controls, she takes your hand and interlocks your fingers.

“Yeah, so you two just do your thing—” Steve catches himself. “Wait, not that kind of thing.”

Clint explodes into wheezy laughter and Natasha shakes her head, her cheeks reddening. You’re not embarrassed like she is, but you’re still quick to defend yourselves.

“It was one time!” you protest. It had been a mission where everything that could’ve gone wrong did, and you and Natasha were convinced it would be your last. You two decided to end it wrapped around each other, but then the rest of the Avengers had barged in and said there had been a miscommunication and it wasn’t the end of the world after all. It was the one mission you would never live down.

“Just keep it professional, please,” Steve begs. “No matter what happens, we’re all going home alive, okay?”

Bucky looks completely lost.

Natasha lands the Quinjet in a flurry of snow and all of you exit the warmth of the plane.

“I should’ve brought one of your hoodies,” she mumbles, walking as close to you as she can without tripping you.

“It would’ve clashed with your uniform,” you say, putting your arm around her waist. The super soldier serum in your veins causes you to run a higher-than-average body temperature. You feel as comfortable as if you stepped out of hot shower.

The facility is the only building for miles. It looks big enough to fit a space rocket and has a dull, concrete exterior. The only security is a chain-link fence with a frozen padlock that Steve breaks open with his shield. You file through the gate, and Bucky inputs a code into the door to grant everyone entry. The interior is just as disappointing as the outside. Nothing but a maze of concrete halls with metal doors. The ceiling has dripping water stains and an uncomfortably musty, moldy smell hangs in the air.

“I bet you’re really glad you escaped this rust bucket,” you say to Bucky. He only shakes his head.

“Stay alert,” Steve advises. “We’ll split here. Keep us updated on your position and if you find anyone.”

“Copy that.” You and Natasha turn right while the others turn left. She finds a flight of stairs and you follow behind her. You unholster your gun, holding it at the ready by your side. Natasha makes random turns and ignores every room you walk by. You listen intently for any sort of noise that would indicate a person lurking in the shadows, but so far, there’s nothing.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” you ask.

“Do you?” she snaps.

“Hey, I’m just following you.” You back off. Even though you know this is no time to be making jokes, you still can’t help yourself. High-stress situations make you nervous, especially when you’re with Natasha, because anything that could happen to you could happen to her.

When you pass by a room with its door open, you see a large glass tank big enough to fit a human and filled with murky green water. For a reason you can’t explain, you feel yourself drawn towards it and you step into the room, a chill raising goosebumps on your skin. You reach out to touch the tank’s wall and close your eyes.

You’re floating in a tank of your own, tubes running out of your nose, mouth, and down every limb. You jerk around wildly in the water tinged pink with your blood. Your lungs seize for air, but every breath you inhale is wet and salty.

“Shall we go another round?” you hear someone on the other side say.

“Might as well. No pain, no gain, right?” someone replies.

You want to bash your hands against the glass, but you’re too weak to have any control over your movements. You feel a sharp pain in your lower back, at the base of your spine, and your body arches as more drugs are pumped into you. You have no breath to scream with as your body twists in agony. It feels like a fire eating you from the inside out, burning through your bones, and you want nothing more than to wither away to ash...

“Hey.” You jump when you feel Natasha’s hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”

“Um, I…I thought I heard something,” you lie. Natasha frowns. Like Steve and Bucky, you had been a lab rat yourself, although not to SHIELD or HYDRA. You had been passed around other government agencies—at least, that’s what you think. Most of your memories of that time were fuzzy, which you were fine with. The ones you did remember weren’t worth reliving anyway.

“Y/N.” Natasha looks concerned.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” You don’t want to interrupt the mission with your personal problems.

She knows better than to push you, especially at a time like this. “Okay,” she says, leaving the room. You take a minute to collect yourself. When you finally turn around, you see a black-haired woman, shorter than Natasha even, standing in the doorway in the same vest Bucky had worn the first time you met him.

“Hello,” you say, holstering your gun. You’re not going to shoot someone who looks like she’s barely of age. “You must be one of the super soldiers Bucky told me about. Who was your target supposed to be? Romanoff?” you tease.

“Thor.” The woman’s voice is dainty. Her body is literally the size of one of Thor’s arms. There’s no way she’s telling the truth.

You laugh. “That’s cute. But this is no place for a kid,” you say, walking towards her. But she sees that you’re too casual, your guard let down too low, and takes advantage of that. “Now all I need is for you to put this mask on and—”

The woman launches at you with a speed you don’t even process. She swipes your legs out from under you, causing you to crash on your back. Then she’s on top of you, hands around your throat. You reach into your pocket for your knife, all jokes lost with her attempt to take your life.

You flip the blade out and swing at her face, but she’s quick to dodge and rolls to the side. You jump to your feet, wondering where Natasha is. But you’re too embarrassed to call for her help, even if this soldier claims she was given the task of taking out the god of thunder.

The woman is impossibly fast and she lands blow after blow on you while you stagger back and slash out helplessly with your knife. When she kicks you in the stomach and your back collides into the water tank, you’ve had enough.

You switch your knife to your left hand and aim for the woman’s neck. She grabs your wrist and twists it around so the knife turns towards you. Your eyes widen as she puts her entire body weight behind the knife. The blade sinks into your shoulder.

“What the—” You don’t even register the pain, more upset that you’ve been harmed with your own weapon. The woman grins, distracted, and you punch her in the throat as hard as you can. Her eyes bulge and she coughs, her hands flying to her neck.

You take the mask out of your pocket and shove it onto her face, hearing the hiss as the sedative is instantly released. The woman immediately goes limp and you have no problem letting her drop to the floor.

“Y/N!” You look up and see Natasha staring at you, arms crossed over her chest.

“I got one.” You puff out your chest proudly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Natasha comes over and inspects the soldier’s limp body.

“I didn’t need to. I handled her all by myself,” you say, a little annoyed by her doubt in your abilities.

“Is that a knife in your shoulder?” she asks.

“I…Oh, yeah—”

“Is that your knife?” Being called out hurts more than the actual pain of having the knife in your shoulder.

“Uh…maybe…” You can’t even look her in the eye.

“Y/N,” Natasha growls. “Here, let me take it out.”

You back up until you hit the tank again. “Wait, shouldn’t we—ow!” you yelp as Natasha jerks the knife out.

“You’ve been through worse.” She tries to hand you the knife, but you shake your head, too embarrassed to continue carrying it with you since you obviously can’t be trusted with it. She shrugs and pockets your knife, taking out some gauze and tape to patch up your wound. You rotate your left arm in circles; besides an uncomfortable twinge, it works fine.

“So, what do we do with her body?” you ask.

“We’ll come back. We need to find the other three first.”

“Three? I thought there were four.” You try to do the math in your head. Bucky had said there five super soldiers, and you had just defeated one, meaning there were four left—

“Three,” Natasha repeats and you look at her in confusion. “Mine’s outside.” Unlike you, there wasn’t a single scratch on her. Together, you leave the room and find a man slumped on the floor, a mask on his face.

“When did this happen?” you ask.

Natasha shrugs, but you can tell she’s extremely proud of herself. “When you were busy dealing with that little girl.”

“Excuse me. According to her, her target was Thor,” you say. “So, I just took out the soldier who was supposed to take down the god of thunder.”

“Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that.” Natasha nudges you playfully.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“Hey, are you two okay?” Steve asks in your earpiece.

“We disabled two soldiers on the second floor,” Natasha responds.

“Perfect. We got two down here as well.”

“Who did you take out?” Clint asks.

“This tiny woman and a guy,” you answer.

“How big was the guy?” Bucky asks.

“Maybe around your size?” you estimate, staring down at the soldier Natasha subdued.

“Okay, because the two we took out were also average-sized dudes. The last one—I was hoping it wouldn’t come down to this—he’s an absolute beast. I think he’s almost seven-feet tall and could bench press a plane with one hand,” Bucky says.

“So whoever takes him out wins,” you say. Between you and Natasha, you were certain you could win any fight.

“You’re on,” Clint says.

Natasha and you leave the soldiers where they lay and search the rest of the floor. This time, you take the lead, a little more cautious since you know what to expect. You head up to the third floor, expecting the last soldier to jump out at any moment. The tension of waiting to find him is almost unbearable and your muscles ache from being coiled so tightly.

“You guys find him yet?” Natasha asks through the earpieces.

“Negative.”

Suddenly, a moving shadow catches your eye and you throw out your arm to stop Natasha. A man steps out from around the corner and Bucky wasn’t lying about his size. He’s so tall the top of his head disappears behind the ceiling beams and he looks like he would sweep any bodybuilding competition he entered.

“Never mind, we found him. Third floor,” Natasha mumbles.

“Don’t engage him alone.” That’s Steve’s voice. “Try to stall—”

“Too late” you want to say as the man charges towards you. There is no way you two are taking him down without the use of any weapons; plus, you don’t have any more masks to use. But if you punched or kicked him, you wouldn’t be able to reach his face without catching airtime. You run backwards, fumbling with your options. An idea pops into your head.

“Maybe he has a safe word, too,” you say, crashing into Natasha and shoving her back. “Lizzie! Karen!” you scream the first names that come to you. “It could be a guy’s name—can’t assume anything, right? Chris! Tom! Mark!” The names have no effect other than making you look like an idiot.

“Shut up, Y/N—” Natasha hisses.

The man roars and reaches out, grabbing a fistful of your shirt. He throws you like a javelin and you can’t believe how far you fly, landing on your stomach and skidding another 30 feet.

Natasha tries engaging him, and although she’s faster than him, any punch or kick she lands goes completely unnoticed by him. The man flings her aside like a sack of flour and comes towards you.

You reach for your gun, but before you can bring it up, he kicks it out of your hand and stomps on it. The barrel literally flattens before your eyes, and you roll onto your back to face him. He lifts his foot, which is easily as big as your calf, and brings it down on your right knee.

CRUNCH.

The pain of your leg snapping in half is so blinding and nauseating you don’t even scream. It feels like someone is holding a blow torch to your bones and your entire body starts trembling in shock. The man scoops you up with an arm leveraged underneath your chin, and once you’re upright, you feel the lower half of your right leg dangling like a broken branch.

He lifts you high enough so your feet don’t touch the floor, leaving you scrabbling at his arm and choking on your saliva. Your vision flashes white and you feel the overwhelming urge to vomit as he spins you around to face Natasha.

She has her gun out, pointed at his head. “Put Y/N down,” she orders.

“And what if I don’t?” the man says in a voice that sounds like it came from the depths of the ocean. “You think you can shoot me before I can break a neck?” He squeezes you harder and you whimper.

Natasha pauses to think, and her eyes dart to the side before looking back at the man. “Okay, okay.” She sets her gun on the floor and raises her hands. “Just please don’t—”

“Kick it towards me.” The man crushes your windpipe like a straw and your eyes water.

Natasha reaches out with her foot and sends the gun spinning towards you and your captor. Suddenly, the man tosses you away and when you crumple on your broken leg, you swear you see purgatory.

“Get on your knees,” the man tells Natasha. She doesn’t obey. “I said, get on your knees!” Very slowly, with a defiant look on her face, she drops to her knees one at a time. The man picks up her gun and holds it in front of her face. “I’ve been waiting years to finally meet you, Agent Romanoff.”

“Well, sorry for not coming around sooner.”

“My comrades may not have been successful in eliminating their targets, but I don’t fail,” the man says.

Natasha looks away from him to you. “I love you,” she calls, as casually as if you two were lounging on the couch watching a movie together.

You blink away tears to make eye contact with her. You can’t move, you have no weapons, and he has a gun pointed at her head. The complete helplessness you feel hurts more than your broken leg, more than Bucky’s gunshots had, more than any pain you’ve ever felt before. There’s a thousand things you want to tell her, but you only have time to say one.

“I love you t—”

But there isn’t even enough time for you to finish your sentence, because suddenly Natasha’s face is covered in blood.

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Click here for Part 5!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow fanfiction #black widow #marvel

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midday0nightmares · 4 years ago

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27 - pry on the weak (m).

Previous chapter in your arms (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day.

You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.

You jolt out of the claustrophobic nightmare, everything around you looks sound and in its right place, including jaemin, who’s sleeping next you, it was a nightmare.. you didn’t think that a nightmare would have the audacity to visit you while you were sleeping in his arms.

You snuggle closer to him, too close, not minding if he wakes up right now, it would be ideal if he can listen to you telling him about the rude nightmare and sho It away..

He buckles under your pleads,

“fine.. you can come too”

The high pitched squeal you let out almost made him change his mind.

You wore a simple, body fitting black dress, a safe choice, you walked to the living room where jaemin was waiting for you, he was wearing a black suit, the black trousers making his long legs look extra inviting.

Jeno whistle from behind you when you spun to show jaemin your outfit, you roll your eyes at his ungentlemanly behavior,

But the way jaemin’s eyes were shinning, and the compliment “you look beautiful” made your heart flutter, but the butterflies were shot dead when jeno’s hand landed on your ass in a sharp slap.

You link arms with jaemin and make the short trip to the door across the hallway to chenle apartment, the door was open, you were welcomed by upbeat classical music, not what you’ve expected.

Inside, the apartment looked like an entire house by itself, it was three times bigger than your apartment, the atmosphere was intimidating, everyone looked expensive and beautiful, there was three type of guests, men, gorgeous women, and you.

Bite sized appetizers and trays of champion were being served along side an open bar at the corner, chandeliers were hanging off the ceiling and the big glass door opens to the terrace.

Your heart sunk and your stomach turned over inside of you. You cling to jaemin’s arm when you spot that face, haechan’s face.he approaches you and they all greeted each other, you keep looking else where, doing your best to ignore him.

“Hey man! Long time no see.. what are you doing here? You know chenle?” Yes good question jaemin, what is he doing here?

“Yeah yeah..” He leans closer and lowers his voice “he’s one of my top clients” he gestures to the tens of girls around.. and it clicks in your head that they were all escorts, brought by haechan, they were his girls. you didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust that was showing on your face.

“Hey handsome” a tall, brunette, doll like girl throws her arms around jeno, “haven’t seen you in a while” she seamlessly pout. He giggles and turns into a harmless puppy in her hands, she must be one of haechan girls too, of course he will pay for company, who would want to spend time with him.

Your attention turns back to the hushed conversation between haechan and jaemin,

“… no, his father is the of a one the leaders of the Chinese communist party, powerful man. and he’s the sole hire of multiple companies” haechan says.

“What is he doing here?” Jaemin asks.

“don’t know.. but based on what I have heard, he’s not staying for long..” haechan cuts himself as soon as he notice your interest in their conversation, “And how have you been doing sweet thing?”

oh the rage that went through you, you wished you could claw his eyes out, your distain is loud on your features. jaemin’s hand reach and hold yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, silently apologizing for breaking his promise of not having to see haechan again.

And of course Hacehan is anything but dumb, he reads your mood and turns back to jaemin “come, I want you to meet someone” .. “haa you never stop working, don’t you?” Jaemin let go of your hand and slips deeper into the crowd, leaving you standing awkwardly next to jeno and his baby.

You stomp with no destination in mind. you look around, amazed by everything, but you feel misplaced, the looks that were thrown your way, you didn’t belong here and everyone knew it, there was an underlining screech the luxuries mood.

You catch the back of jaemin’s head through the crowd, an unsuspected punch of something was delivered to your heart, throwing your mood completely off. he’s with a group of giggly girls, practically drooling over them.

you regret insisting on coming with him.. you should have known, but it’s too late now, you look else where and meet the sister eyes of haechan staring at you. he winks at you, you throw him the dirtiest look you have and move out of his sight line.

You pick a glass of champagne and lean against the wall, tipping the tall glass and drinking it in one go, and another.. starting to feel better. Chenle’s bright hair stands between the crowds, he gracefully moves around greeting everyone, you didn’t notice before but he’s quit charming.. he catches you staring at him and smile at you, rising his glass towards you, you fumble almost dropping your half empty glass.. when you mange to get a grip on yourself and rise your glass he had already return to his conversation.

“Hello, mind if I join you?” The stranger man stands next to you even before you could’ve answered him, “what’s your name?” He looks like he was operating on twice the normal human energy, fidgeting and unable to stay still for more than three seconds, his smile twitches, the look in his eyes is frantic.. his pupils are blown, he’s on something.

He speaks again before you can answer “hi Im yangyang, what’s your name?” why does his friends have wired names?

You watch him like he was a train wreck happing in slow motion, “here try this” he hands you one of the two glass he was holding in his hands, a pink cocktail with raspberry, you smile politely and take the drink, he stares at you with his frozen smile.. but something behind you catches his attention, he kinda looks like a cat, just like that he leaves as fast as he came, he’s kinds cute.

You move to the open terrace for some fresh air, the breeze flowing through your hair, you zone out as you watch the city lights.. a hand graze the small of your back brings you back, you jump in surprise. “sorry didn’t mean to scare you” chenle apologize, placing a tall glass of champion in front of you, his round cheeks flushed, he looks breathtaking in this proximity, or maybe it’s just the alcohol in your system..

“To be honest sera, Im a little offended” he confess, your eyes grow double the size “offended.. why?”,

he gives you sad puppy eyes and looks around “you don’t seems to enjoy my party”..

“oh no, I do. Your house is very beautiful and everything looks amazing” you try to convince him but he’s not buying it, you just give up and sigh, “im just tired” looking down to the busy streets..

He hums “tired or jealous?” Pointing at jeno who was too busy sucking that girl’s face, you roll your eyes and chenle laughs.

“im not” you bring the glass to your lips, drinking more, a pathetic attempt to suppress whatever have been twisting your insides.

Someone calls for him cutting your interaction short, “Alright.. well if you need anything come find me” he says before leaving you. You stay at your spot, distracting yourself with silly thoughts while the party behind you was growing wilder.

Your stomach growls, you feel sick and about to throw up.. heat rising through you, you sweat and feel lightheaded, you must have had too much to drink you are not used to it.

You stumble inside and through the crowded room, looking for the closest bathroom before it’s too late, haechan grabs your arm “sera.. are you ok?” His voice is far away although he’s standing next to you, you yanking your arm out of his hold “don’t touch me..”,

The room starts spinning, you hold the wall for support, after that it all went dark.

When you came back and opened your eyes, you were laid in a bed, the strong cologne filling your noise, upsetting your empty stomach. For a minute you don’t remember where you are or what had happened, the unfamiliar bedroom doesn’t ring any bills, your head is pounding, threatening to explode you move too much, you try to get up but a sharp pain shots through you, your hips feels like they were dislocated, your thighs bruised and had blood on them, your pulled up dress and torn underwear, it all indicates to one thing.

You mange to hold yourself through the initial shock, not breaking down. With a plan to find jaemin you fix your dress to cover your exposed breast, you force yourself up, picking up your discarded heal off of the floor. You limb your way out of the room, the party has quite down, it has turned to something else..

everyone looked like a living zombie, you look for jaemin, you open every door on your way, you open a door to a bedroom, and you see group of men gathered over a passed out girl, watching them felt like an outside body experience, like you were rewatching yourself. They were unfazed by your presences as they continue their assult..

you close the door to the hellish scene, you keep looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

You reach the main area, being met by jeno and haechan snorting whit powder of the coffee table, surrounded by loopy girls.. jeno tries to grab you, to pull you down with them but you escape his claw like hand.

You can’t take this anymore, you were starting to crumble. you did’t feel safe anymore. you head to the door and walk out, you seek the comfort of a familiar surroundings, their apartment, a hot shower, clean clothes, your bed.. but you don’t have a key and you don’t know the passcode, you try random combinations but nothing works, the door stays closed, duff to your cries.

You break down, tears streaming your face, you give up on the door and slid to the ground, leaning against the wall you sit alone in the hallway waiting for jaemin’s return.

#nct dream #nct yandere #nct smut #nct mafia #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct angst #nct agnst

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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative.

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low.

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12.

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end.

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating.

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair.

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate.

-He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there.

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry.

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye.

-This was unfair.

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well.

-So he hides it.

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts.

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate.

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life.

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group.

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal.

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge.

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking.

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though.

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe.

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible.

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own.

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air.

-It was stunning.

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention.

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF.

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you.

-You knew he was your soulmate.

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate.

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you held off for months.

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder.

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone.

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining.

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years.

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive.

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate.

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it.

-This reassured him all throughout middle school.

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain.

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger.

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string.

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again.

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time.

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done.

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go.

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with.

-Then he felt it.

-The lightest tug at his finger.

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again.

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls.

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school.

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger.

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt.

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning.

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall.

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?”

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.”

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand.

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure.

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake.

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves.

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him.

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there.

-You were half wrong in that one….I think.

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13.

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest.

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate.

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all.

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist.

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored.

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist.

-So he confided in someone.

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life.

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened.

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to.

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration.

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly.

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name.

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.”

-He did find his happiness.

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected.

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year.

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed.

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings.

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier.

-He was relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice.

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.”

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon.

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him.

- “Wow you can see everything from here.”

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.”

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.”

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.”

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists.

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin.

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22 @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Hello I went to IKEA yesterday and got myself a BLÅHAJ (giant plush shark) now I have TWO giant shark plushies on my bed and I’m in heaven. ANyways it got me thinking? A yandere and plushies??

Warnings - NSFW, non con, dub con, Tamaki is a voyuer without your consent, Kirishima is sweet but deluded, Bakugou is mean but caring, and Dabi is straight up AwfulTM

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KIRISHIMA

Would be so soft, notice how you have plushies littering your bed at home so he’ll buy you some. Even if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t have plushies crowding their bed, he’s still gonna buy them for you.

He likes giving them to you, thinks it’s romantic when he presents them with a bundle of flowers. You think it’s anything but, yet still accept the stuffed animal begrudgingly because it’s so soft and cuddly.

It becomes a comfort object, something you can’t seem to let go of. If you’re watching tv, the stuffed animal is on the couch too. Making food? The plushie is set next to you on the counter where you can grab it. At night-time it’s clutched in your arms, suffocated against your chest the very same way Kiri clutches you to his.

Getting fucked silly? The plushie is crushed in your arms as you cry, and Kiri thinks it’s so cute and it makes his heart clench. Something about it makes him go wild, maybe it’s how small you seem, how innocent with a stuffed animal wrapped in your arms as if it could protect you from his relentless kisses.

He loves you so much, he’s always buying you plushies. Kirishima catches on the fact that they’re a comfort object for you, something that you use to ground yourself when something stresses you out.

He always brings your biggest plushie to you when he’s gonna fuck you hard, like the kind, considerate man he is. It’s so big that you can wrap both arms around it while you sob, while he ruts into you like a wild animal.

Likes laying you over your plushie and watches you cry into it as he fucks you so good you’re screaming in ecstasy. Kiri especially loves fucking you early in the morning or late at night, turns you on your side and has sleepy sex while you sniffle and hold your stuffed animal.

He accidentally rips one of them one time while he’s fucking you, he got too excited and wanted to see your face as you came, tried to pull the plushie out of your arms and ended up ripping it in half.

You had cried so hard and he felt so bad, bought you ten more plushies and giant candy bar to make up for it. For the next few weeks he was so, so gentle with you, pushing down his primal urges to get feral and use you like a whore whenever he saw you being unwittingly cute and sexy as you went about your day.

Although, to be honest it’s not hard for you to be sexy. You bend over and he wants to rip off your clothes, bury himself into your pussy. You stretch to get a glass off a high shelf and he wants to lift you onto the counter, make you kneel so he can eat out your pussy. You literally walk across the floor and the big man is salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing slightly underneath your top, wants to pull and suck at them until they’re red and sore. But like a good loevr, he holds himself back and only pulls you to the bedroom and treats you gently. For a few weeks at least, until he can’t take it anymore.

Then it’s back to rabid fuck-sessions whenever you do so much as breathe

If you upset him (please try not to), The plushie will get ripped out of your hands, discarded onto the floor. He won't let you grab it before he’s lifting you up against the wall, tearing off your shorts and sheathing his cock inside of you.

When that happens, you have nothing left to hold but him. Kirishima doesn’t like getting upset with you, but deep down he really relishes the way you grab and clutch at him like he’s your lifeline.

BAKUGOU

Doesn’t really think much about it, but maybe he sees a cute ad or something pretty in a store window and it reminds him of you. Probably he saw the plushie bought it for you cause he wants to see you holding it.

Gives it to you, but doesn’t really think much of it after that. Thinks it’s cute how you had blushed when he pulled the silky soft stuffed animal out of the bag. You had been surprised, because usually Bakugou is buying you lewd outfits or lingerie, not cute plushies. You were honestly kind of grateful that you wouldn’t have to model your gift for the man; he always insisted you do with everything else he bought for you.

It doesn’t bother him that you leave it on the bed. Honestly, he doesn’t even think of it. But when he sees you tucking it underneath the covers like a little kid, he gets lost in thought.

Dude probably hadn’t even thought about kids, but seeing you be so soft and sweet to a inanimate toy had him fantasizing about the future with you. You would be a great mother, and he’d be a good father.

And that’s how Bakugou ends up with a breeding kink.

When he crawls over you the first night, groaning about making a kid that’d be so smart and strong and great, you panic. You don’t want a kid with him, he’s volatile and explosive and abusive, it’s a recipe for disaster.

You beg and cry and plead with him to keep you on the pill, and you do to so sweetly and utterly humiliate yourself while doing so, and Bakugou can’t tell you no. So he promises that it won’t happen just yet.

But if you’re bad? He’s gonna hold you down and fuck into you so fast that you get dizzy, threaten to flush the birth control pills down the toilet. He runs his mouth, goes on and on about how he’ll fuck you until you’re swollen with his kids, how your tits will get so big and round and full of milk and he’ll suck and bite at them everyday.

After that threat, you try your hardest to always be good.

TAMAKI

Obviously is too shy to kidnap you just yet. The ravenette gets you one of those nanny-cam bears, one that has a camera inside without it being obvious.

He stutters as he gives it to you, ears bright red, shuffling his shoes and not able to meet your eyes. Says its because the little animal reminded him of you, that they’re his favorite and immediately bites his tongue after he admits that.

You probably think it’s cute, smile as he pushes it into your hands. You can’t tell that the poor man is almost cumming in his pants when his hands brush against your arm. You know he’s shy, so it’s not surprising that he immediately bolts as soon as he’s given you the stuffed animal.

A camera doesn’t even cross your mind, Tamaki too innocent and you too trusting. The stuffed animal gets placed in your armchair, the one in your bedroom that you sit in to read. Lucky for Tamaki, it faces your bed.

He watches you quite a lot, laying down in his own bed with his laptop on the nightstand. The man likes to imagine the two of you sharing the same bed, but can’t get far without blushing and covering his face with a pillow at the slightest dirty thought.

When you masturbate for the first time, Tamaki cries. He cries because he’d been watching you ever since you got in bed, had watched as you slowly kicked off your shorts and had cum the second you peeled your panties down. He cries because he’s overstimulated, unable to stop jerking his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself, the man almost numb and shaking as he orgasms for the third time in half an hour.

By the time you finish, Tamaki is blubbering, can’t stop watching, can’t stop pumping his overstimulated cock in time to your fingers plunging into your pussy.

He doesn’t turn his TV on anymore.

DABI

Is the type to get some awful, scratchy, over-filled abomination like the stuffed animals you get from the fair. It’s an ugly one, horribly deformed and badly sewn, eyes bulging and one of it’s limbs shorter than the others.

Probably doesn’t think to give it to you until he’s headed home, knows it’s what couples do and thinks that maybe you’ll stop screaming when he touches you.

He barely got his dick out one time and you had cried so hard you passed out. Now if he goes anywhere near you you’re immediately alert, wide eyes never leaving him. If he so much as touches you he has to be prepared for you to scream and cry and try to bite him.

He guesses that’s what happens when you kidnap someone.

Getting you a stuffed animal does not make anything better.

But Dabi’s tired of you refusing him, of you crying and being a little bitch. He’s been blueballed for the past two weeks, just because he was trying to be nice and let you adjust.

So he takes the deformed stuffed animal he stole and shoves it in your mouth.

It muffles your cries while he grinds his dick into your sensitive walls, and really, that’s all he needs. You feel so good, Dabi doesn’t care that behind your makeshift gag you’re cursing his existence.

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notmrskennedy · 4 years ago

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Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #mgg #mgg fluff #fluff

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cinnaminsvga · 3 years ago

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intermission • vi | moonlight

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jungkook) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none!! it's just jungkook being a cutie!! → words: 3.7K → a/n: this intermission chapter was actually written by @jincherie!! i'm posting it on her behalf since she's currently on hiatus. she had this chapter mostly finished a few months ago and we were waiting to post it until we were both more active (lol) but yeah... things change i guess... anyway see you guys next year (i wanna say /j but really... is it really /j...)

— • masterlist | prev | intermission vi | next • —

Jungkook's strength has never been making friends.

In his mother’s words, a “pleasant and sweet boy” though he might be, that didn’t help much when it came to meeting someone new and the storm of butterflies in his stomach would grow so strong that it froze his limbs and caught his tongue. He’s not too good at first impressions.

A “pleasant and sweet, but terribly shy boy” is actually more along the lines of how Jungkook’s mother describes him, now that he thinks about it. That’s probably a little more accurate.

The sprawling complex he lives in is full of kids, and Jungkook knows each and every one of them. He might be challenged in the social area, but his mother is anything but. She says he takes more after his father, and since his father is usually relaxing inside and reading or drawing when Jungkook sees him at home, he figures that makes enough sense.

Every time someone new moves into the complex, Jungkook’s mother goes to greet them. Of course, he is graciously asked (read: forced) to come along too, just in case they have any kids around his age. This is how he normally meets the other kids on the block. It’s fine, he can’t complain. He has to admit it’s nice meeting all the new and different people that come through. His family is probably one of the ones that have stayed in the complex this long.

When the house next door is emptied of the family he knew, it’s a while before the next one comes in. By the time Jungkook peeks out his window one morning, woken by the telltale sound of a truck beeping as it reverses, and finally sees some movement in the house next to his own, his mother isn’t home. She’d moved into the hospital just a few days earlier, looking ready to pop with the little brother he’d heard so much about in her belly. He’s excited to meet his little brother, and now as he stands on his tippy-toes to get a good look from the window, he finds himself a little excited to meet the new neighbours, too.

It only has a little bit to do with the great, big, fluffy dog they have. Just a little.

It takes a few days for them to move in fully. Jungkook watches from his window every now and then, seeing all sorts of different cars come through. This family has lots of helpers, he notices. By the time they seem to really settle in, Jungkook doesn’t see much of them. Actually, to his disappointment, he doesn’t see anyone around at all. He still hears the dog, glimpses it every so often, but realised that they probably walk it in the mornings before he wakes up.

His mother is home before long, his baby brother cradled in her arms. The first thing she asks as she steps through the door is, “Have the new neighbours moved in? Have you met them yet, Kookie?”

This is perhaps the first time all week he hasn’t cared about the neighbours-- he’s transfixed with his brother. It stays that way for a few days, until the allure wears off when the tiny baby won’t stop crying at night. Perhaps his little brother is something best loved from afar for now, Jungkook surmises.

Back to the window he goes – except this time, there’s actually something to see.

There’s a child! A combination of nerves and excitement bubbles within him as he sees a kid in the backyard playing with the dog, throwing a Frisbee for the massive puppy to leap up and catch in its mouth. The kid looks a little…. feral. Like the baby from that one funny caveman movie he watched with his parents. They’re rolling around with the puppy, uncaring of the way grass and dirt get on their clothes and tangle their hair-- they laugh the whole time. It takes a second for the sound to reach him, but when it does it makes his heart do something funny in his chest.

Ah, the neighbour's kid is a girl.

It’s you.

Jungkook has always been a little more shy around girls, but has never known why. To meet you, he’s going to need his mother there for backup. This is probably the first time he’s outright wanted to go meet one of the neighbours. It’s a little embarrassing, so he elects not to think about it too much.

He thought he would have to pester his mother more to get up and go greet them, but it seems she’s a little sick of being in the house so much because she jumps up the second he mentions it. His baby brother is graciously asleep when they make the trip one morning to the house next door, nestled in his mothers arms looking like an angel wrapped up in fluffy clouds. Jungkook wonders if you’ll like his brother as much as he does. If you don’t, then he doesn’t know how good of a friend you’re going to be.

The doorbell is different, it’s the first thing he notices about the house. Your family must have changed it when you moved in. It’s a bubbly, fun tune now, and he doesn’t even realise the smile it brings to his face. His grip on his mother’s hand tightens, but he misses the fond look she casts over him.

When the door opens, Jungkook thinks his nerves just might eat him alive. He’s so stiff he’s worried he might turn to stone and disintegrate into dust on the spot.

It’s you who answered the door.

You don’t look as wild and unkempt as you did that day he saw you from the window. Actually, your hair is in two cute little buns on top of your head and there isn’t a spot of dirt or grime on your overalls.

The way your eyes light up when you see him and his mother, as well as the baby held to her chest, is enough to make him forget to breathe for a moment. When he remembers, he feels like running his head into the pole of the awning.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother greets, that big smile on her face that normally wins everyone over. “We’re from the house next door! We wanted to come say hello and meet you. Are one of your parents home too?”

“Hello!” Your response is instant, and the smile you return is so big Jungkook can easily see the gap where you’re missing a tooth. It seems like you’re beating him, he hasn’t lost that one yet. “Yeah, my mama’s home-- you should come in! She said she wanted to meet you guys! Oh, also, we have a puppy! She’s big, and actually maybe she’s too old to be a puppy but… she’s cute. I want you to see her!”

You’re rambling, but you don’t seem to realise. Jungkook couldn’t get a word in edgewise if he wanted to, but he finds himself more than happy to simply listen as he and his mother follow you into the house.

Your mother isn’t as wild as you, but he notices the same little sparkle in her eyes that you have in yours. He wonders if he and his mother have their own matching sparkle. That would be cool.

Right away, his mother hits it off with yours – two socialites of a feather, it seems. You fawn over his baby brother for a few minutes while they talk (he knew right then that you were a good one), before grabbing him by the sleeve and insisting on showing him around. You get a full tour in, and miraculously Jungkook finds it in himself to ask a few questions as you go.

“S-so, you like it? Here?” Every time he opens his mouth the words don’t come out how he wants them, but he can’t do anything now. At least he only stuttered once.

“Yes! It’s so much better than my old house! There’s so many more kids here, and they’re all so nice too!” You’re more than happy to blabber on, a hand thoughtlessly carding through the long, fluffy fur on your dog’s back. Jungkook’s own hand is doing the same (the fur is just as soft and fluffy as he imagined). “There’s more room for Poopie to play, too.”

Jungkook still isn’t quite used to the name of your pet, but something more important in what you said is taking hold of his attention. “Wait, you, uh… you’ve met some of the other kids?”

“Yep,” you say, gaze off in the distance as you try to summon them all from your memory. “Not all of them, but some! Um, I think one of them is named…. Chanyeol…? He lives down the street. Then there’s-- …”

A queasy feeling fills his stomach. He thinks it might be disappointment. For some reason, he thought he was going to come in here and be the first kid you met, that he was going to tell you all about the complex, maybe show you down the street. If you turned out to be a real good egg, then he had even planned to show you his secret place. But now that he thinks about it, it’s a bit silly to think that none of the other families would have come to greet you by now. You’ve been here for more than a week, after all.

He had a good time when visiting you, but for some reason after that day, he finds himself hanging back a bit. He wants to go out and play with you and the other kids, but when he sees you getting along with them so well he’s reminded of that queasy feeling from that day and he stays inside. Which, oddly enough, makes him feel even worse. He feels like no matter what he does, he’s losing progress with you. Maybe you won’t even want to play with him at all, you might think he’s boring after having so much fun with the other kids.

“You gonna go out and play, Kookie?” his mother catches him staring out the living room window one afternoon. She’s bouncing his brother on her hip, the demon baby sated for the time being. “There’s still plenty of time before dark.”

“No, I’m okay,” he answers, hating himself a little bit for it. Why was it so hard to say that yes, he wanted to play, but also that he didn’t. He thinks his mother would be able to help, but he has no idea how to tell her his woes. “I think I might draw a little.”

“Okay, sweets.” She comes over and ruffles his hair. “But if you do decide to go out and play, just let me know so I know where you are, okay?”

He nods, and she leans to kiss his hair before wandering back into the depths of the house. Maybe he will do some drawing, he ponders. It might distract him from the sight of you getting along so well with all the other kids.

Jungkook’s strength has never lain in being outgoing. This proves itself over the months when his attempts to grow closer and befriend you turn out unsuccessful, without fail.

You’ve made a good space for yourself amongst the kids of the block. You’re nice, caring and understanding, and never mean – sure you pushed Chanyeol off the seesaw once, but that was because he was being mean to Suzie. He didn’t do it again afterwards, and peace was maintained in the playground in the park at the end of the complex. Your friendship is sought-after, and with the beginning of the school year looming so close he’s running out of time to establish a friendship between the two of you.

When he spends an afternoon riding his bike at the end of the street, looping around and through the park, it’s definitely not just because you’re sitting there with some of the other girls on the block. When he summons all the knowledge stored in his brain from watching those bike tournaments and attempts to do a little trick, it’s definitely not because he thinks you might be watching. If you happen to see and think he’s cool, then it is what it is. It’s not like he’s actually trying to impress you or anything.

It goes okay, for the most part. His legs are a little tired though. He probably shouldn't attempt the trick he’s thinking of next, but he swears he sees you glance his way and he feels a surge of confidence flow through him. He attempts it.

He botches it.

The bike clatters to the ground and he rolls a bit, but his knees take the brunt of his meeting with the concrete path.

Lucky he wasn’t trying to impress you, because that was pretty humiliating. Lucky you probably didn’t see, either. His knees burn and he feels tears prick at his eyes, probably not just from the pain. He feels so embarrassed, so dumb. He’s touched his bike five times since he got it for his birthday last year, why did he think he would be able to do awesome tricks on it? Dumb, so dumb. He flees the scene before anyone can notice what happened, and completely forgets his bike.

He’s made it all the way home before he even realises it, his vision blurred from the tears that just won’t stop falling and his knees still singing in pain each time he bends them. He almost goes inside, craving a hug from his mother and her gentle hands on his wounds, but then he realises she would ask what happened, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to tell her. It’s too embarrassing. He’s so embarrassed.

So he bypasses the front door, going around the side and slipping through the gate. There’s a tree that lines the side of the house where his window is, and it’s so tall it reaches well above the roof. Without pause, he climbs it, hands finding familiar grooves. He halts, hissing at the sudden sting – it would seem he’s scraped up his palms, too. His eyes burn with the added humiliation and he darts up the tree, making quick work of the climb until he reaches his special spot.

The roof of his house is mostly slanted, but there’s a flat bit at the very top on one side of the house. This is where he likes to go. No one ever looks for him here, plus the view is always very pretty. He doesn’t appreciate the sunset right now, though. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

The whole way home, Jungkook held in his cries. He didn’t want anyone to hear and tell his mother. But now, in the embrace of his little ‘safe haven’, he lets them out. He buries his head in his arms and sobs, the pain of moving his palms only making it worse.

He doesn’t know how his little body can handle so much embarrassment, let alone so many tears, but for the moment he doesn’t think about it and surrenders himself to his woes.

He must be up there for a while before his crying ceases. By the time he lifts his head, the last of his tears drying against his cheeks, the sun is just beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It’s pretty, how it casts light around the shadowy silhouette of the city buildings in the distance. He kind of wants to show it to you. That thought is quickly shut down. He’s going to ask his mother if they can move cities so he doesn’t have to face you again.

Alas, the world just doesn’t seem to be working in his favour today. He hears the rustling of the tree before he sees it. By the time he looks over to investigate, you’re already clambering onto the roof, an oversized fanny pack bursting at the seams with whatever you’ve shoved inside slung over your shoulder.

“Hey!” You greet with a smile, apparently oblivious to the dumbstruck look on his face. “Man, it took forever to find you! If I didn’t see you from the window in my room, I never would have known where you went!”

That was the idea, he laments. He hadn’t wanted to be found.

“Anyway,” you say, plopping down a foot away from him, safely away from the edge of the roof. You swing the fanny pack around so the zip is at your front, and rip it open. Immediately, a tsunami of bandages and band-aids flow forth, fluttering to the tile before you. They’re all sorts of different sizes, but one thing is common across them all – they all have pikachu’s face plastered on them in one way or another. “These are my special band-aids! My mama uses them when I hurt myself, and they always make it heal really quick! I didn’t know how big your owie is, so I brought them all.”

Jungkook is still stunned into silence as you sort through them, organising the chaos at least a little. One of your buns has come loose, he notes. One pigtail, one bun. You look a little more like that wild child he first saw from his window. The knees of your overalls are smeared with dirt, too. He wonders if it got like that while you were looking for him. It makes him feel a little warm inside.

And a little warm outside – his cheeks are starting to burn. He doesn’t remember scratching them too, but maybe he did…?

“Let’s see…” you’re practically just holding a conversation with yourself at this point. He surrenders his leg without protest as you grab it to inspect his knee. “Yep. That’s a big ‘un.”

His whole face has lit on fire. Even his ears feel hot. Is that normal? Probably not. He’d have to ask his mother to take him to the doctor. Maybe he’s dying.

He notices how close you are suddenly, realises this is the first time you’ve been fully alone together (without Poopie), and suddenly he can’t think. Like, at all. He may as well not have a tongue because he can’t remember how to use it anyway.

Somewhere amongst the bandages you’d shoved some tissues. You pull them out now, gently clearing the dirt away from the wounds on his knees. You’re talking as you do it, but his brain is full of static. Your hands are even tinier than his. Is that normal? Wait, no-- they’re the same size. What is he doing…?

Is he going to get in trouble for being alone with a girl…? His mother hasn’t told him about the birds and bees like she said she would yet-- is that what this is? Will he turn into a bird if he gets any warmer? Jungkook doesn’t want to be a bird.

You are placing large plasters over his knees when he finally tunes in to what you’re saying. “… -that last trick was pretty cool, too. It would have been even cooler if you didn’t fall.”

Jungkook squeaks, “You saw that?”

You nod, apparently unaware of his utter humiliation. “Yeah! You’re pretty good on a bike. Can you teach me sometime? I want to show my dad.”

He makes a noise that sounds enough like an affirmation that you accept it, a big grin on your face. For a few more minutes, you finish patching him up.

“There! All done!”

Pikachu stares back up at him from his knees, looking a little wonky because of their shape. The band-aids are a bit wrinkled, but you look so proud of yourself he forces himself to ignore it. He looks up, the words of thanks he took so much courage to summon dying on the tip of his tongue as he sees you.

The setting sun changes the colour of your eyes a bit – it’s pretty, he finds himself thinking. Immediately afterwards, he blushes. Even more embarrassingly, he finds himself unable to help but observe that the sun suits you, actually. Bright, persistent, a little bit sparkly. In the sun’s last reaching rays of afternoon light, you look a bit like you’re glowing.

Of course, Jungkook is used to his silence, but it seems you’re only just noticing it. You seem to misunderstand it’s cause. “Oh, do they hurt?”

Your words tear him from his reverie, and the startled look on his face doesn’t exactly help his case. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise they were that bad-- oh! I almost forgot the next step! My mum always does this whenever I hurt myself.”

Then, without a second spared for him to prepare himself, you lean over and plant a kiss on each of his bandaged knees.

Jungkook thinks he might explode. The entire neighbourhood is going to see him take off and zip through the sky like a rocket. His earlier thoughts of moving cities and changing his name come back full force.

“There, they hurt less now, right?” But you’re still grinning, still bright as ever with shining eyes hoping for a certain response. Despite himself he takes a moment to assess the level of pain he’s feeling – oddly enough, it does feel a bit better.

There’s no way he can manage to say that, though.

Instead he nods, wide-eyed. You let loose a sigh of relief, muttering about how you didn’t know what you’d do if that didn’t work. He swears he catches the slightest warmth in your cheeks, but doesn’t know whether it’s a trick of the sun.

“Thanks,” he finally manages, his voice just shy of a whisper. You hear him anyway and flash that gap-tooth smile his way.

“Of course! This is what friends are for!”

You think of him as a friend? Jungkook can’t help the dumb smile that rises to his face. He likes that. Friends. As the two of you stay on the roof until moonlight begins to filter through the tree and your parents are calling your name, he thinks he’d like for things to stay that way.

He’d like to be friends with you. Always.

#btsghostie #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #i dont even remember how to tag HAJDHASJ i havent posted a fic in so LONG #anyway yall thought fox rain was dead but i guess she lives for one day... next chapter is gonna kill me tho but im excited!!#see you sooner than later i hope lmao

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unloved-cadillac · 4 years ago

Note

(angst prompt 1) 1,9 and 10

modern au

reader is dating mikasa but mikasa and eren have been hooking up for a while even before they started dating so mikasa breaks it off and the reader wishes them the best and luck even though they are really sad and stuff but eren and mikasa doesn’t last very long to him being an ass and mikasa realizing she doesn’t love him like that and she tries to win back the reader but it takes a lot of convincing

C/n: whoa SHIT! You have no idea how much I love this request. It’s the perfect angst. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

Is It Too Late? (Milasa x Reader)

Mikasa laid next to Eren as she smoked a cigarette. Her arm propped behind her head as she looks at the boy who made a home in her heart ever since she could remember. Eren had been there for her ever since she could remember and to have him in more ways than one made Mikasa the happiest girl in the world.

Her thoughts are pulled away as her phone rings. The caller id made Milasa frown but she answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Mika! Hi, babe. Listen I’m at the grocery store and I saw this cereal you like. Captain Crunch or something? What flavor do you like?”

Mikasa runs a hand down her face and puts out her cigarette. “Uh, why..are you getting me cereal?” She asks and you stop looking at the cereal. “I just thought you’d like it. I saw it at your apartment and I just wanted to confirm.”

“Don’t get me anything, Y/n. I’ll get it myself. I gotta go.”

“Ok. Bye. Lov-..”

Mikasa hangs up before you could tell her but you just sigh and put the cereal back on the shelf. This wasn’t anything knew. Mikasa and you had been dating for a few months now and even though she was the one who asked you out, she seemed to keep a lot of stuff to herself. She shuts herself out from you and hardly makes time for you. You thought it was just the way she is but if Armin’s Instagram stories tell you anything, she had time. Just not for you.

When you arrive home, you unpack your groceries and shoot Mikasa a text.

‘Hi babe. I’m making dinner tonight. Come over?’

You wait for her reply and even though she was active she didn’t reply to you as soon as it delivered. You shake your head and put your phone down and begin to make your supper. Five minutes later, your phone dings.

‘I’ll come over.’

~~~~

As you were cleaning up from dinner prep, a knock sounds on your door and you smile knowing who it is. Checking through the peephole, you quickly unlock your door and smile at Mikasa. “Hi. Come in.” You greet and she walks in. She doesn’t take off her jacket, something she always did when she came over.

Mikasa turns around and scratches her head. You pick up on her sudden mood and you start to get a bit anxious. “Mika? You good?” You ask as you walk to the kitchen island.

“No. Listen, Y/n. We need to talk.”

Oh no. You stop fidgeting with your hands and lay them on top of the counter. “Sure. What’s up?” Mikasa sighs and looks at you. That look..it was so empty. Nothing. It scared the shit out of you.

“We..shouldn’t continue this.” She motions between the two of you. “I’ve been seeing someone else and I just feel like what we have isn’t what I need right now.” She says and you lips part. Did she really just say..that she was seeing someone while dating you? “Mikasa. You were cheating on me?” You ask and she nods. You scoff and look down at your hands which were shaking.

“How long?”

“Ever since we’ve been together. Actually, way before that.” Mikasa tells you like it was so normal. Like it was a thing everybody does. “Is that why you hardly had time for me?”

Mikasa nods and you furrow your eyebrows. “How are you so calm about this?” You cry out and Mikasa looks up at you. “I don’t know. Y/n, Eren has been..” “EREN?! Eren fucking Yeager? Are you kidding me? The friend who introduced me to you? The person you told me that he was a “close” friend of yours? Well, obviously I was mislead about that.” You run a hand through your hair.

“Y/n, listen. I love you and I love him. But it just so happened that Eren and I seemed, I don’t know, better together?”

You look at her, dumbstruck. “How can you love two people at the same time? That’s ridiculous. I don’t even think you love me because if you did you would never have done this. We’re over now. You don’t need to defend yourself anymore. I hope that you’re happy with him.” You start to walk to the door and open it. “Y/n.”

“Please, Mikasa. Leave me alone.”

You tell her and she walks out the door. When she turned around, the door gets slammed on her face and she sighs. Well, at least she didn’t have to sneak around anymore. She lights a cigarette and makes her way to her car.

~~~~

Three months later, Mikasa laid on Eren’s bed as he played on his Switch. She looked at him and ran a hand on his bare chest but he clicks his tongue. “Mikasa move your fucking hand.” He shrugs her hand off and sits up and groans. “Now look. I fucking lost.” He rolls his eyes at her and wakes up rom his bed and heads to the bathroom. After he shuts the door, Mikasa leans up and sits against the headboard.

Normally when you and her chilled on your bed, you always had a limb on her no matter what you were doing. And you would always kiss her whenever you had the chance. She missed having that affection.

What is she doing? Why were you clouding her mind all of a sudden? It’s not like she still loved you...did she?

Mikasa opened her phone and went straight to her gallery. The stupid, funny selfies that you took of yourself were still there and she watched the videos you sent her. The one of the flock of cool birds flying over you. The cute dog you met. Everything.

Eren didn’t even send her pictures or a text apart from telling her to come over. She missed seeing your name pop up on her screen at 4am to tell her the weird dream you had. She missed how happy you made her feel. She missed those little moments with you.

She missed you.

Quickly putting on her pants and shirt, she headed for the door and left Eren to go back to the person she took for granted.

~~~~

When Mikasa arrived at your apartment, it was locked. Looked like you weren’t home and she wanted to call you but she was certain you had blocked her number. So she waited for you. And waited. And waited.

Finally, a car pulled up and you stepped out of it with..another guy. You smile and kiss the guy’s cheek and face your door to see Mikasa sitting there.

“Mikasa? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” She asks as she shoves her hands in her pockets and you roll your eyes. “The last time you said that I found out you cheated. So no. We can’t talk.” You say and shake your head. “Please, Y/n. I won’t take much of your time. Please.” Her voice trails off at the end and puts her head down.

The guy you came with whispered in your ear and you smiled. “Okay. I’ll call you later.” He smiles and kisses your temple. When the guy leaves, you cross your arms over your chest and stare at Mikasa.

“Who’s that?”

“Why do you care? What do you want, Mikasa? Why are you here?”

“Can’t we talk inside?”

“No.”

Mikasa sighs and bites her lip. “I..broke up with Eren.” She whispers and you chuckle. Mikasa did not like that. She hated how there was so much of mock in that chuckle. “And? What am I supposed to do about it?”

“No. You don’t understand. I broke up with him because I love you.”

You sigh out an irritated breath and shake your head. “Mikasa, you can’t do that. You can’t come here after three months expecting me to take you back because you “love” me,” you say with air quotes, “you cheated on me. If I did the same thing would you forgive me? If I betrayed your trust like that would you forgive me?” You ask and she walks to you.

When she reaches for you, you slap her hands away. “Y/n. Let’s just try again. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I love you. I always have and I was so stupid for thinking that I loved Eren too. I’m an idiot. I’m a selfish, self-centered idiot who broke up with the only person who loved me for me.” Mikasa let a tear fall from her black eyes and you felt your heart stop. You never saw her cry before since she always wanted to be the strong one in a relationship.

“Every day for the past three months, I hoped you would call me. Not even to say anything sweet. Even if it was just for you to cuss at me, yell or anything. I just wanted to hear your voice. You made me feel so loved and all I did was throw it away. I just...want a second chance.” She looks deep into your eyes and you shake your head. In all the time that you knew Mikasa, she never showed emotion. In the words she was telling you now, it had more emotion in the entire time you dated her.

Mikasa holds your face and close your eyes. “Please, Y/n. You’re the only good thing in my life and I can’t go on without you. Please.” She kisses your forehead.

You slowly pry her hands away from your face and wipe your tears. “We can’t try again. We would only come back to square one. Arguing, bringing your cheating up again. Mikasa, it’s broken. We can’t fix it anymore.” You whisper and she shakes her head. “No, Y/n. Don’t say that. You’re my whole heart, Y/n. Just give me a chance. I’ll be better. For you, for us.” She rests her forehead against yours as she holds your hands.

It’s silent. The sounds of passing cars and rustling leaves filled the void and you couldn’t give an answer right now. So you pulled away and cupped her face. “Let me..think about this. I need time.” You whisper and she nods. “I’ll wait for you, Y/n.”

You let her go and head inside your apartment before giving her one last look. Maybe this could be saved.

——————————————————————————

“You’re my whole heart.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman fanfiction #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa imagines #snk mikasa #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #mikasa fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan fanfiction

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

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Constellation - FELIX

The last week and a half has been hectic, to say the least. I don’t think I need to go into detail about why, but hopefully this story will bring back a bit of levity :) I’m really excited that it’s finally finished, and for a) the comeback and b) Felix’s birthday no less! Happy comeback, happy late birthday to the one and only Han Jisung, and happy birthday to the lovely marvelous wonderful Felix Lee, one of the best boys in the whole world! I hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Word Count: 11k

You swear an oath to return your fallen star to the sky.

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

Felix’s head hurts. It really hurts.

Something liquid starts trickling down his hair when he tries to move, something that he’s pretty sure isn’t the starshine Donghyuck so loves to splash in his fellow stars’ faces. It’s much thicker. Stickier.

Where…?

Groaning slightly, Felix forces his eyes to flutter open slightly. Immediately a round of dizziness rushes into his head and he slams them shut, willing the nausea to fade away.

What happened?

Mentally, Felix starts going through everything he remembers doing tonight. Nothing much, really – he sent dreams to the children, shone in the Sky, mediated a squabble between a few younger stars, ran away from Donghyuck’s antics, then… falling?

Wait, falling?

His eyes snap open to cold air brushing his skin and dusky green dotting his vision. A stark horror starts to fill his mind, overtaking the growing pain in his head.

I’ve fallen. I’m on Earth.

Panic rises in his chest but he forces it down, if only for a few moments. He must’ve hit his head when he fell. That would explain the throbbing pain. He probably blacked out for some time – he doesn’t know how long, but the Sky’s light is already turning gray in the east so it must be near dawn by now.

If he weren’t immortal, he would be dead right here, right now. Felix gulps at the realization, sitting up slowly. His limbs work, even though they ache a lot. But even that pain can’t compete with the feeling in his head.

Something shiny glints at the corner of his vision and he turns to see bright ivory ichor on the grass. He slowly reaches a hand to the back of his head and feels a sticky, wet lump. When he lifts his fingers to his face, smears of ivory glitter in the faint daylight.

By the Mother Earth and her child the Sky, how did I get into this mess?

For how long he sits there, trying to get a grip on the situation, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do – should he try to find people? Should he try to figure out a way back home on his own? Should he just lie down and wait and hope that the Sky will take him back tomorrow night? Why did he even fall in the first place?

A rustling of grass jerks him out of his spiraling thoughts and his head whips to the right. The throbbing intensifies and Felix watches in mute horror as someone emerges from the trees.

For several seconds that could be minutes or even hours, Felix stares at you and you stare at him. Terror adds to the growing pile of emotions in his head and he can’t even act on his instinct to flee because his body feels so tired and pained that it won’t let him move. The fact that you’re a human nearly sends him spiraling again but he forces his mind to cooperate.

Felix has seen many things from his vantage point in the Sky. War. Famine. Greed. Disease. Destruction. So many atrocities that humans have committed against each other and against those they deem different, inferior.

What would they do to a star?

Slightly more mobile, Felix scoots backward as best he can. His eyes remain locked on yours and he can feel himself trembling in your presence.

A being of the heavens, a child of the Sky and the night, trembling in front of a small human. The other stars would laugh if he shared this story with him.

He wonders if his powers still work on earth.

But for now, he doesn’t need to find out. For instead of pressing forward, you back away, holding up your hands in a gesture that does not scream danger to him. Curious eyes look at him with wonder and a little fear, but not enough to warrant harm. It is natural to fear the unknown, but thankfully for Felix, it looks as though you have not given in to the fear so much as to hurt him.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. My name is Y/N.” Your voice is soft, like the one he uses when comforting a startled moon rabbit. “I saw you were injured. Do you need help?”

Yes. Yes, he does. He needs a lot of help, but he’s not sure if he trusts you enough to rely on you.

You sit down, keeping a safe distance away from him, though Felix isn’t sure if the distance is for your safety or his. “You’re bleeding,” you say patiently. “I’m a maiden at a shrine not far away. If you want, I can take you there and clean your wound, then give you directions to wherever you’re headed.” A small, worried smile plays on your face. “The shrine is very deep in the forest, you know. You must be lost.”

Almost against his will, Felix nods. He is lost.

So very lost.

“May I take you to the shrine?” you ask again. “I can help you better there.”

Felix notices his muscles have untensed. He’s relaxed in your presence. He vaguely thinks he should be upping his guard, but the pain in his head has rebounded and the throbbing has turned sharper. He raises a hand to the wound again and his fingers comes back still covered in blood.

Ivory blood.

Hiding his hand is of no use but he does it anyway, heart dropping when he sees your widened eyes.

Dead silence reigns, broken only by the slight rustling of the leaves.

“Ivory blood?” you finally say, smiling tentatively. “It’s okay. At the shrine, we take care of many magical beings. We’ve had pixies, nymphs, a few fae, even a demon, once. Red blood, golden blood, black blood. I’ve never seen ivory before, but we care for all, so long as they show us no harm.”

The momentary panic cleared his head but now that he thinks you still mean no harm, Felix finds himself relaxing again. He nods sluggishly.

You come forward, touch slow and gentle against his bruised skin. You loop one of his arms around your neck, then support him with an arm around his. Step by slow step, you help him across the soft grass, deeper and deeper into the forest.

. . . . .

The bruises are easy to treat – a few dabs of cream, and you promise the boy in front of you that they will be good as new in a few days. The wound on his head takes more time. Ivory blood oozes from a nasty lump on the back of his head, and it takes a lot of water, a lot of flinching, and a lot of murmured apologies before it’s clean and bandaged.

“Done.” You finally give what you hope is a reassuring smile and begin putting away the bandages. “I need to go do my morning chores, but you can stay and lie on my bed awhile. I don’t think many people will come by here, but on the off chance that they do, they won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ll be back soon, probably around midday.”

He nods, luminous eyes staring at you with something unreadable in their depths. Even as you begin walking to your bedroom door, he doesn’t lie down on the bed. He’s still sitting as you close the door quietly behind you.

Your heart pounds as you rush down the hall, hoping the priestesses won’t scold you for being so late to your chores. They know your fascination with the forest, know the long walks you take every morning. Maybe you could just say you got lost in the sunrise? They wouldn’t hold that against you, would they?

Thankfully, no one comes by as you snatch a broom from the shed and begin sweeping the front of the shrine clear of dead leaves. Your stomach scolds you for missing breakfast but really, what’s a missed meal in the face of helping one of the lost?

Even if this lost boy is unlike any being you’ve ever seen before.

A lot of magical beings have strange-colored blood. That didn’t faze you. Fae, sprites, nymphs – golden blood runs through all their veins. Hell, you’ve seen black blood from the demon you helped that one time. Ivory isn’t so different.

But white hair that glows? Eyes as pale and silvery as the moon? You’ve never seen that before. As you finish the chores and begin walking back to your room, you puzzle over what the boy is.

He reminds you of something, but what is it?

Lost in thought, you bump into a heavy table full of small relics. But just as the curse leaves your mouth and pain starts blooming in your hip, a yelp from the sleeping quarters pushes all thought out of your mind and you run to your room.

You nearly smack into Priestess Jeon, the head priestess of fire, who’s standing outside of your room with a shocked look on her face. Peering anxiously into the room, you see the boy, looking scared but thankfully unharmed.

“Y/N.” She turns to you, not angrily, not fearfully, but with confusion. “Why is there a star inside your bedroom?”

It hits you.

A star.

Of course.

He is a star. It explains the glowing candlelit hair, the luminous eyes, the way he seems to exude the calm of night. That’s what he reminded you of – a night sky full of stars.

“A star,” you finally murmur. “I-I’m sorry, Priestess. I found him in the forest and he was hurt, but when I came back I was already late for chores and I saw no one around so I tried to patch him up as best I could and left him here to rest until I finished. I was just coming back to check on him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the poor star’s gaze flicker from you to the priestess to the door and you feel terrible. He’s a star, one of the luminous children of the sky and night, being forced to face two impure human beings.

How did he even end up on earth in the first place?

Priestess Jeon steps forward slightly and your eyes rivet between her and the star sitting on your bed. She kneels down so that she is eye-level with the boy and beings to speak.

“Hello, little star.” You know the smile she has on her face – it was the one that persuaded you and your brother to stay, and you only hope it has the same calming effect on the star. “I am Jeon Jiyoung, priestess of fire, and one of the head priestesses of this shrine. We are a shrine, but we are also a home for the lost. We welcome all – nymphs, demons, fae. We have never hosted a star before, but it would be our greatest honor to do so. If you are lost, we will take care of you until you can return to the sky.”

“I don’t know how.”

Had it not been so full of anxious terror, the startlingly deep voice that the star speaks with could have belonged to a man. But all you can see is a scared boy in front of you. Cracked, soft, terrified, his words make your heart clench.

“Would our witch know anything about stars?” you ask. “She might have suggestions. Or maybe Changbin?”

“Perhaps.” The priestess stands. “Our witch is very skilled – she might know something. Changbin is a moon child, too. He might know or be able to ask someone how to return you to the sky,” she tells the boy. “But until then, little star, do not fear. The shrine is safe for you. Y/N –” she looks at you – “can I entrust you with caring for our star?”

“Me?” you squeak. “Aren’t there… shouldn’t one of the older maidens… I’m not –”

“Do not doubt your capabilities.” Priestess Jeon puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling gently. “Besides,” she whispers, “I think our star is a little afraid – naturally so. Since you found him, I think he will trust you the most. You have not given him any reason to distrust you, have you?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head. She turns to the star, satisfied. “Is this all right with you?” she asks him.

His pale eyes bore into yours, as though he’s seeing right through your soul. Trapped beneath his gaze, you cannot move until he nods slowly. “Yes.”

“Then it is settled.” The priestess claps her hands. “Y/N, you are excused from the rest of today’s chores. Take our star to the healing ward and check him for any more extensive injuries. He may stay there until he can return home.”

. . . . .

Felix lies awake for most of that first night in the healing ward. He doesn’t like it there. It’s too clean, too silent. He would have preferred sleeping in your room and he wishes the priestess had suggested it, but she didn’t and his shyness prevented him from asking.

Faint sunlight shining through the windows tugs him out of a light sleep the next morning. You come in just as he’s swinging his legs out of the bed.

“Good morn – oh.” You cover your eyes. “I’ll just… wait outside until you… put on a shirt?”

Confused, Felix looks down. Then he remembers that humans have strange rules about covering up their skin in the presence of others. “Sorry,” he mumbles, hastily fumbling for the shirt he was given yesterday.

After a light breakfast – the milk and the bread taste good, but not so much the sour, crunchy thing you say is kimchi – you take him on a walk in the woods to meet the witch.

“I don’t know exactly why she came here,” you explain on the way there. “She just showed up one day, pregnant, and asked for shelter. I think only Priestess Jeon knows truly what happened to her.”

Felix doesn’t know much about witches, but the one he meets is kind. She has a child, a young boy who has her hair and nose and eyes and who quickly takes a shine to Felix. His skin is a little paler than hers, though, and their smiles aren’t quite the same. Maybe those are traits from his father.

“I’ll be honest with you – I don’t know exactly how to return you to the sky.” The witch closes her book and Felix looks up from the cooing little boy you’re holding in your lap. Little fists grab onto Felix’s pants and he almost yelps in surprise, but the boy’s chubby cheeks and laughing eyes render him silent and he deals with it, even though it feels strange. You laugh a little, adoring gaze focused on the child, and Felix pauses at the love he sees within your face.

The witch holds out her hands to her child, who immediately (thankfully) abandons your lap and Felix’s ragged pants to enter her arms. “I do think there is a library in the moon palace where there might be more books on the stars, however. I’ll ask Changbin to help me find some. Until then, I will give you a potion that will help you adjust to life on earth. It will change your sleeping pattern, as well as prevent serious sunburns. I’ll also ask Changbin for one of his moonflowers – I think the moon’s magic will help keep your body stable.”

Felix nods, a little overwhelmed by the information and disappointed that the witch doesn’t know how to return him home, but thankful nonetheless. “Thank you,” he says, dipping his head in respect.

“Thank you,” you echo, standing up from the floor. “Do you know when Changbin will be around?”

“Not exactly,” she replies, detaching her child’s hands from her hair and settling him firmly on her lap, “but he’ll come soon. It’s almost that time of the year, you know.”

A dark silence falls over the small house, something you and the witch understand but that Felix doesn’t. Clearly something bad happened to this Changbin, and he isn’t exactly sure he wants to know what.

Then the child starts babbling and the spell of silence is broken as the witch focuses her attention on him and you laugh at his antics. “Thank you, again,” you say, looking fondly at the small family. “If there is anything you ever need from the shrine, simply ask. You do so much for us.”

A faraway look comes into the witch’s face. Felix wonders what she’s thinking of. “It’s no problem.” She smiles warmly, but with a tinge of melancholy that a less perceptive person might not notice. “Oh, wait.” Hefting her son onto her shoulder, she stands. “Would you give me one of your hairs? I will need it for the potion.”

Bemused, Felix reaches up a hand and plucks out a strand of hair.

“I know it’s strange.” The witch takes it with an embarrassed smile. “But this is a specialized potion, specific for just you, and these potions often need something from the person they will be given to. It’s to ensure that it will be effective on you.” She smirks. “Blood is often temperamental, so I don’t use it unless I have to. And I don’t feel like you would want to drink what used to be one of your nails or a sliver of your skin.”

Felix makes a face. He would not.

“I suppose we should take our leave now.” You bow slightly and Felix scrambles to do the same. “Thank you so much again.”

“Thank you,” Felix echoes, hoping his expression conveys the depth of his gratitude.

“The pleasure is mine.” The witch smiles, patting her son on the back. “I’ll bring over the potion sometime tomorrow.”

Then the boy starts crying, so you quickly leave the hut.

. . . . .

“I need to complete my chores,” you tell the star as you two enter the shrine. “Do you want to come with me, or do you want to stay in the healing ward until I finish?”

A slight grimace crosses the star’s ethereal face when he hears your second option. You’re not surprised by his choice to come with you, but you are surprised by his offer of help.

“It’s awkward just standing here, watching you work,” he mumbles shyly. “If I’m staying here for some time, I should at least learn to help out.”

So you fetch him a broom and teach him to sweep, then attempt to teach him to cook. He’s surprisingly good at sweeping – he even looks graceful while doing it, which doesn’t make sense at all – but he’s a terrible cook. You have a hard time stifling your simultaneous laughter and yelps of fear when he nearly cuts off a finger and sends carrot peels flying all over the floor.

In the end, you send him back to the healing ward with a plate of food and a promise to join him after you’ve finished serving the other maidens and priestesses. But by the time you enter the ward, he hasn’t even begun eating yet.

“Are you not hungry?” you ask, sitting on the bed next to him. “We can wait to eat until later, it’s not a problem.”

The blush that settles across his freckled cheeks is strangely adorable. “Um�� no.” He holds up his chopsticks. “How do you…?”

“Oh.” You laugh. “It’s not hard. Let me show you.”

So the star learns to use chopsticks as quickly as he learns to use the broom – so not long at all – and within minutes, he’s carefully putting food into his mouth. Silence falls as you fill your stomachs.

“Do you want to go outside?” you finally ask, putting your plate on the floor. Then you look more closely at his face and see pale pink beginning to burn on his skin. “Wait, are you already burning?” You touch his face, alarmed.

He shrugs, leaning back slightly. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Is… that what the pain is? Burning?”

“You felt pain?” you half-screech. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugs again. “I thought it was normal?”

You sigh. “Have you ever been out during the day?”

The nonplussed look he gives you is enough of an indication of how dumb that question was. “I’m a star,” he says by way of reply.

“Sor-ry.” You roll your eyes, embarrassed. “Sunburns are common if you stay outside in the sun too long – the heat literally burns your skin. But normally you don’t get burns from walking under the forest canopy. I guess your skin is just extremely sensitive.” You rummage around a nearby drawer, pulling out a bottle of aloe. “Can I put this on you? It’ll soothe the pain.”

Swallowing, the star nods assent. You sit next to him and begin applying the gel to his skin.

“How do you have freckles if you don’t see the light of day?” you mumble, brushing gel over some of the tiny dots on his face. They don’t really look like freckles – they seem to have a pattern, and they’re a little darker – but that’s the best word you have for them.

“Freckles?”

There it is again – that lost, confused expression that he had while holding the chopsticks. He doesn’t know what freckles are.

“Uh, freckles.” You wave your hands somewhere near his cheeks. “The… dots? The dots on your face?”

His mouth forms a little ‘o’ as he realizes.

“Yeah.” You drop your hands. “People are either born with them or get them from the sun. Most of us get them from staying outside too long, it’s not a commonly-born trait.”

“I didn’t get them from the sun,” he mumbles. “They’re… the constellation I’m part of.”

Silence falls again as you put away the aloe. “By the way,” you finally say, trying to start conversation, “may I know your name? I don’t think you ever said anything…”

The star swallows. “I’m sorry. In the sky, we don’t usually give our names to anyone but ourselves. Because to give our name to someone like a fae or another trickster race would be disastrous.” He smiles a little. “You’re not a fae and you’ve been kind, but I don’t think I can give you my name just yet.”

You give him a small smile with the last dab of aloe. “Don’t worry. I know the weight of a name.” Happy memories bring a smile to your face. “We had a fae here once – his love brought him in after he fell out of a tree, trying to impress her.” You roll your eyes. “The priestesses had to give up their names and all of the maidens’, too, to know the fae’s and his lover’s. It was worth it, though.” You close the drawer, smiling at him. “The fae and his love are some of our favorite and most frequent visitors now.”

“A fae,” the star murmurs. “You have a lot of strange visitors.”

“We do, but it makes life interesting.” You lean forward. “Did I tell you about the demon?”

He shakes his head slightly. “You mentioned it, but didn’t go into detail.”

“Well, let me tell you, he had the wildest blood pressure.”

And so story after story turns afternoon into evening, the light outside the window dimming until you have to light a candle and one of the maidens comes in with food for you too. Guilt-stricken, you apologize for not cooking, but Jiae simply waves you off, reminding you that your duty is with the star and a few missed chores are nothing. Felix doesn’t speak much, but his features begin to relax as the hours tick by and that’s all that matters, really.

The candle has almost burnt out by the time you decide you should leave. “I think it’s time to sleep.” You can only just see the faint outline of his face in the flickering candlelight, but his hair almost glows in the dark while his silvery eyes still bore into yours. “I’ll go now.”

Fear and another indecipherable emotion flash across the luminous eyes as you stand and you stop. “Do you need anything?”

The star swallows hard. “I…” He takes a deep breath. “It’ll sound stupid.”

“I’m sure I’ve heard stupider things. After all, I grew up with my brother.”

A small smile twitches at the star’s lips, but the uncertainty remains on his face. Patiently, you wait, and finally, he speaks.

“I don’t like being alone here,” he admits almost shamefully. “Could I stay somewhere where there are more people?”

That throws you for a loop. Where could he stay? In someone’s room? Maybe with Jeongin or some of the other messengers? But their quarters are all the way across the shrine grounds…

“You could stay with me?” you offer. “Do you want to go to my room or stay in here?”

A look of relief passes over the star’s face. “… Your room? If that’s alright.”

Hopefully the priestesses won’t scold you for this.

“Of course. Come on.” You take him to wash up first, then lead him to your room. He follows behind you so soundlessly that you look back sometimes, half-expecting him to have vanished. He’s always there, though.

“Take the bed,” you order, spreading out a blanket on the ground for yourself. Felix immediately begins to protest, but you hold up a hand. “You are the guest, and you are injured. Take the bed. Don’t argue.”

He takes the bed.

Satisfied, you lie down on the floor, pulling the blanket around you. Then another one drops on top of it.

“It’s too warm,” the star’s voice rumbles. His silvery eyes, peeking over the side of the bed, dare you to argue.

You sigh but smile. “If you say so.”

And so you fall asleep.

. . . . .

Several weeks pass, and Felix becomes more comfortable with the shrine. Trust is something hard to give and easy to take back, and he vacillates between the two as he explores the world little by little. You seem understanding, though, never showing impatience or annoyance with his periodic silences. That comforts him.

Life goes on. He settles into a routine, and as the days go by, Felix starts taking your presence as a comfort, rather than something to be viewed with suspicion. A month later, he feels comfortable enough to tell you his name.

“Felix,” you mumble. His name catches on your tongue, but he likes the way it sounds from your lips.

A flash of doubt courses through his body. “Please don’t give it out so easily.” Felix’s eyes beseech you. “I must return to the Sky.”

“I won’t.” You squeeze his hand gently. “I promise.”

The witch comes by with Felix’s potion after the first week and he can finally go outside. The other maidens and priestesses make him nervous at first, so you only take him deep into the woods to sit in silence.

Sometimes you talk. Sometimes you don’t. At first, the silences are awkward, but they later turn warm. Comfortable. You bring a pad of paper and sketch things when it becomes quiet. Felix likes to watch you draw, fingers moving smoothly along the pages and etching flowers and grasses and trees onto the paper. The silences are almost as pleasant as talking.

But when you talk, Felix is reminded by how nice your voice is. Soothing, sweet, kind. It washes over him in gentle waves and calms him like the starshine used to. Now, he’s too far away from the Sky to feel the starshine as much as he used to, but it’s okay. Your voice and your stories are good substitutes. They help him feel at peace.

One day, you bring a different book with you on the walk into the forest. It’s not your rough sketchbook. This book has tattered pages and a heavier cover embossed with faded golden characters. You stop him at the edge of a sparkling pond, right under a large willow tree that drapes over the water.

“What’s that?” Felix asks, pointing at your book. He can’t read the words on it.

“It’s a book of stories,” you reply, opening it up. “Since I’m running out of stories to tell you about the shrine, I thought I could read you some instead.”

You read to him for hours, stopping only to pass over some bread you packed for lunch, and Felix loses himself in your voice and the stories you tell. Witches, dragons, pirates, brave princes and princesses – he revels in every tale.

Being the star of everlasting childhood, he always knew humans had the ability to come up with these fantastic stories. But too many lose that ability as they grow older and their innocence slips away. It’s been a long time since Felix has had a reminder that people are still born under his star, born with the gift to remain a child despite their age.

The Sky has darkened by the time you close the book. Felix pouts a little when you say it’s time to go, but the firm expression on your face convinces him to stand.

“The forest isn’t safe at night,” you explain on the way back. “Daylight may keep the dangers away, but once the cloak of night falls, the sprites like to come out to play. Han isn’t here and I think Chan had to visit another forest, so we have no guarantee of safety right now. If you’re lucky, the sprites will leave you alone, but you’re a star. That’s strange enough. Better safe than sorry.”

“Who are Han and Chan?” The names are unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Chan is the guardian of this forest, and Han is the fae I told you about.” You grab Felix’s hand to pull him around a large tree root. Your skin is rough, but it feels so right against his. “Han is not the fae’s real name. Chan is, though. He’s protected by the magic that binds him here, so I can tell you his name. Han isn’t as safe.”

Felix likes your touch. Your hand may not be soft and white like a star’s, but it’s comforting and gentle in its smooth roughness and he trusts it.

Your voice pulls him back to reality. “But anyway, if you’re so put out by story time getting cut off,” you laugh, “I can teach you to read, and we can try to read together tomorrow. All right?”

Blushing slightly, Felix nods. “All right.”

. . . . .

Changbin finally arrives several weeks later, eyes hollow and reddened. They regain a little of their normal sparkle when you wrap him in a large hug, burying your head in his neck. His expression turns to one of wonder, then respect as he meets your star for the first time.

Felix is too starstruck at the sight of a moon child to say much, only wordlessly handing over a strand of hair for the witch and taking the moonflower necklace Changbin hands him. You tease him about his pink cheeks after the moon child closes the door.

“I’ve just never met a moon child before,” Felix grumbles. “He’s the son of the goddess I serve!”

Rolling your eyes, you push him out of the room to get ready for bed. The two of you settle down in comfortable silence after you blow out the last remaining candle, and you’re on the cusp of sleep when Felix mumbles something.

“Hmm?” you mumble.

“He didn’t look lost,” Felix whispers to the dark. “Changbin, I mean.”

Confusion shakes you awake. “Lost?”

“Priestess Jeon said this shrine was a home for the lost.” Felix rolls over in the bed. “I… just thought he didn’t look very lost. He looked quite sure of who he was. Where he was.”

Sympathy and sadness fill your heart, and your mouth twists into a small frown. “Changbin found this shrine after he lost someone very precious to him.” Your throat closes up, just remembering his story. “She was his world, for a while. When he lost her, he lost a part of himself. That’s when he found his way here.”

Contemplative silence fills the room.

“When were you lost?”

Under the bright rays of the sun, you don’t think you would be able to tell Felix your story. Allowing him to see the terror and joy and desolation of the memories on your face would make you feel far too vulnerable in the daylight. However, the darkness of night cloaks your expression and comforts you.

So you tell Felix of your manipulative and abusive father, leaving out the worst details but keeping enough that he realizes the gravity of your situation. You talk about your mother, the woman who tried to shield you and your brother from the worst of it but ultimately succumbed to sadness, illness, and injury.

“We left on a particularly bad day,” you murmur. The night hides your face, but it feels like Felix can still see the tear making its way down your face. “It was night, and our father had just gone to sleep. Jeongin and I just ran for it. We couldn’t stay any longer.”

Half-starved, you eventually found the shrine. The priestesses took you in, fed you, and allowed you to stay.

“Jeongin likes being a messenger. I like being a maiden.” You blink the tears away in favor of a smile. “We’re happy. I think I’d be happy here for the rest of my life.”

“What about Jeongin?” Felix asks.

Your smile turns wry. “He likes being a messenger. He gets to travel a lot. And if I’m not mistaken, he’s found a special someone already.”

“What?” Felix sits bolt upright, his silhouette dark against the window full of stars. “Who?”

You snicker. “I’m not sure,” you reply truthfully. “But I think – I think! I’m not sure – she’s the nymph in our wishing well.”

Felix falls back onto the bed with a soft whumph. “I’m so going to tease him tomorrow.”

“You’re terrible.” You sit up in the darkness, fixing him with a mock glare that he can’t see. It’s teasing, though – if there’s anything you’ve learned about your star from the past few months, it’s that he has a sense of humor. “What happened to being so solemn and sober in the beginning, huh?”

He rolls over. “Tch. I’m the star of everlasting childhood. I can be however I want.”

“… Everlasting childhood?”

A sad smile settles on Felix’s face. “Yes.”

“Isn’t that just immortality?”

“Not quite.” His silver eyes shimmer into yours. “You can age, but still be a child forever.”

You lie back down. All you say is, “I see.”

An idea begins brewing in the back of your mind. All this time, you’ve been choosing random stories to read Felix from the shelves of the shrine’s small library, but now you think you know one that he’ll enjoy for sure.

It’s one of your favorites, after all.

. . . . .

The next day, you’re buzzing with excitement, to the point that you drag Felix away from his breakfast to the tiny library in the shrine. When he starts complaining that you took him away from food for a dusty book, you just laugh. “I think you’ll like this one,” you grin.

That afternoon, after chores, you read to him the tale of Peter Pan under a shady tree, warm sunlight dappling through its leaves. It’s a children’s story, full of mermaids and pirates and young boys fighting, and it’s a little overwrought, but even so, Felix falls in love with it. He falls in love with John and Michael and their exploits with the Lost Boys. He falls in love with Peter Pan and his rivalry with Captain Hook. But most of all, he falls in love with Wendy Darling, the girl who trusted in her innocence and ability to fly.

Wendy reminds him of you, Felix thinks. Mother-like girls, caring for the lost souls around them without a thought for themselves. With a pang, he thinks of all that you’ve done for him during his time on Mother Earth.

He can see why you thought he would like the story, as the star of everlasting childhood, the star of those who stay young at heart for their lives. Peter stayed young forever, literally. But Wendy’s spirit was passed down through the generations of girls after her.

There’s one line he loves, one line that doesn’t have too much real meaning (they’re just directions, after all), but that resounds deeply within him, for some reason. It’s when Peter tells Wendy where Neverland is.

“Second star to the right, and straight on till morning.”

It’s childish, really. A bit stupid. Where is the first star to the right? How can one figure out the second star Peter speaks of? And depending on when you start out, how can the distance ‘straight on till morning’ be the same for all those who journey there?

But it’s the simplicity of thought that rings with Felix. The pure, innocent certainty of Peter Pan that he will find Neverland again and again, based on such minimal direction.

It makes dreams seem so direct, so simple, so real.

It gives him the hope that he’ll be able to return to his home in the Sky.

. . . . .

It’s a peaceful day when things begin to fall apart.

Felix is reading, his deep voice stumbling and uncertain and beautiful as he works his way through Peter Pan on his own. You’re taking advantage of the time to sketch, lulled by the errant rhythm of the star’s halting words. You haven’t picked up your sketchbook in some time, what with helping Felix adjust and all, but now that he’s picked up a penchant for reading, it’s nice to go back to one of your older hobbies.

Mina is the one who finds the two of you in the clearing, sun shining warmly through the trees. You look up, ready to greet her, but a frown slides over your face when you see her panicked expression. “Mina?” You stand. Felix stops reading. “Is something wrong?”

“Our witch,” she says quickly. “She wants to speak with you.”

It’s with a racing heart that you enter the shrine and see the witch waiting for you there. “Y/N,” she greets, kindly but hurriedly. There’s something terrified in her eyes – however, they’re steel. Whatever she’s decided she’s going to do, she’s set herself on it. “I’m leaving for the war.”

“War?” Felix echoes, eyebrows furrowed.

“There is a battle in the west,” the witch explains. “I’m not going to fight. I’m going as a medic. I’m letting you know now because I know the star depends on my potion, so before I leave, I’ll need several more hairs to lay in a supply. Changbin has the instructions to make more, if I don’t come back in time.”

Everything’s happening too fast. Just moments ago, you were sitting in a grassy clearing without a care in the world. Now you’re being told that one of your favorite people is leaving for a fight you can’t even see.

There’s no convincing her otherwise, though. You’ve seen the set in the witch’s eyes before. It was there when she arrived at the shrine, pregnant and on the brink of exhaustion. It was there when she gave birth.

You don’t know why this war means so much to her, but that’s not for you to know unless she explains. So you only nod. “I wish you luck.”

Felix echoes the sentiment, but as the two of you dress for bed, his expression remains pale and uncertain. You ask him if something’s wrong.

“I’m… I’m just wondering if I’ll ever go home,” Felix whispers.

With that short sentence, something in your heart breaks. You sit on the bed next to him. “I’m going to give you a hug,” you state.

Felix nods.

You squeeze him between your arms, patting his head until it falls limply onto your shoulder. His shoulders shake a little. “We’re going to get you back,” you whisper, stroking his hair. “If you don’t believe anything else, just believe this. You will go home.”

Felix sniffles, though the tears aren’t coming yet. “I know it’s selfish, but… why is she leaving?” he mumbles. “I just want her to stay and just work on a cure. I know she can’t, but…”

A sigh leaves your lips. “Our witch works in strange ways,” you say heavily. “She has a lot of secrets. She doesn’t say a lot about herself. But she does have a large heart. One thing I can say is that she wouldn’t have left you if the war wasn’t so important to her. She cares about you. She cares about everyone she helps. It would have been a very difficult choice for her to leave.”

The tears start falling, soaking into your shoulder. You huff a small breath, holding your star tighter. “Trust in her and trust in me. Or, if you can’t, trust in Changbin. He’s a moon child. He knows things that we don’t, and he isn’t completely through searching his mother’s library. We can find a way.” You lift Felix’s head out of your shoulder, making him look you in the eyes. “We always do.”

(You fall asleep in the bed that night, arms wrapped tightly around Felix’s small body. When you wake up, he’s turned around, one arm draped over your shoulders, breaths puffing softly onto your face. Tear tracks stain his cheeks.

You hold him until he wakes.)

. . . . .

The witch leaves quickly, dropping off her child at the shrine the next day with Felix’s supply of potion. As he watches her disappear into the forest, Felix can’t help feeling like the last thread of hope he had is about to snap.

He asks if you can stay at the shrine that day. Reading by the pond is relaxing, but he needs something to keep his mind from drifting. He needs chores, messages, something to do that’ll occupy himself.

“Of course.” You smile, squeezing his hand in the gentle way that reassures Felix’s trust in you. “Come on, I’ll teach you how to actually cook. None of the disasters from before,” you tease.

Felix feels his face grow hot with embarrassment. He smiles, though, in the wake of your sparkling eyes.

He’s still terrible in the kitchen. Bowls clatter to the ground, knives draw cuts on his pale fingers, and more than once you have to rescue a pot from charring itself on the stove. But it’s fine. Everything’s fine. The other maidens only laugh and smile, kindly helping him wrap up his fingers, finish cutting the carrots, and pick up the bowls scattered on the floor. They eat his bland food without complaint, telling him he’ll do better next time.

And for all those hours in the kitchen, you don’t leave his side. Not once.

So the days in the forest turn to days in the shrine, with Felix finding every little thing he can do in order to keep his mind away from the Sky. When he feels himself wavering, feels himself becoming jaded or hopeless or depressed, you nudge his side or hold his hand or call his name, and he comes back. He feels hope.

(You told him, once, to trust in you and the witch to get him home. And if he couldn’t, he could trust in Changbin.

You don’t know that he would trust you over the other two combined.)

The stories don’t stop, of course. He trades happy memories with you while sweeping the floors, tending the gardens, and washing the clothes. Every night, you read to him from another book, or you sketch by candlelight as he works his way through another few pages of Peter Pan on his own.

Your presence comforts him, wraps him in warmth that reminds him of starshine streaming down his skin. Felix knows that when (if) he leaves, you will be the one he misses the most.

Still, he has to go. He has to return to his home, the Sky. Mother Earth may be kind, but she isn’t his home. He isn’t meant to be here. It’s unnatural, his new sleeping pattern, the way his skin has slowly darkened over time. And though he revels in the sunlight, loves its caressing warmth against his bare arms, it isn’t meant for him.

The sun is meant for Mother Earth. The moon is meant for his Sky. The sun and its warmth weren’t made for his pale skin and silver eyes.

Which is why when Changbin returns, pressing a heavy, ripped book into his hands, Felix feels his heart soar and drop at the same time. He stares at the tome, unable to comprehend its weight between his fingers.

“There’s a spell inside that will help a fallen star,” he says, “one who has fallen due to a mistake of the universe, not one who fell of their own misdoings.” Changbin looks Felix steadily in the eye, dark eyes boring into silver. “This was not you?”

Felix racks his mind for anything that could have caused him to fall. He comes up with nothing. “No,” he answers.

The moon child nods. “There isn’t much to it. We need your blood. There are herbs in the witch’s home that she has given me access to, and we can get the rest from the garden here at the shrine.” Changbin’s gaze slides to you. “We also need the blood of one who cares for him. One who will be willing to sacrifice a day of their life for his return.”

It’s clear who he thinks that person should be.

A lump grows in Felix’s throat. It all rests on you. He wants badly to say something, to ask you if you will, but he can’t. You’ve done so much for him already.

He doesn’t have a right to convince you to do more.

Silence seems to stretch for an eternity as your gaze shifts between the moon child and the star. Felix doesn’t know what you’re thinking – your face, for once, is unreadable.

Then you nod. “I can do it.” You swallow hard, like something hurts, and say it again. “I’ll do it.”

Felix doesn’t miss the glance Changbin sends you, full of something he doesn’t understand. A prickle of uncertainty grows in his heart, but then the moon child is nodding, moving on to something else. “The spell can only be cast on the sixth full moon of the year,” he says.

Next to him, you make a small noise of surprise. Felix feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

The second full moon has just passed. There are only four left to go.

On one hand, he’s soaring above the clouds in excitement, elated that he can return home so soon. On the other, his heart is dropping like a stone, upset that he has to leave so quickly.

“Okay,” you finally say, breaking the silence. “That’s good.” You turn to him, a smile on your face. “You’ll be home soon.”

Your smile is genuine. It says so much, and Felix knows you truly are happy for him. But after all these months of standing by your side, he can see the underlying emotions conflicting beneath the surface of that smile.

“Yeah,” Felix breathes, unsure what else to say. “Home.”

His home, the Sky.

. . . . .

It’s easy to avoid Felix for the next day. You disappear into the forest with Changbin, citing the excuse of practicing the spell that you have to cast to bring him home. It’ll be boring, you say. He should just stay back at the shrine and maybe talk with Jeongin. You’ll figure it out.

As you walk to Changbin’s small home, he gives you a sidelong glance. You stubbornly don’t return it because if you do, he’ll see the truth lurking in your eyes.

And the truth is, you don’t want Felix to go.

You are happy for him, you truly are. When Changbin brought in the book, seeing that light flicker on in Felix’s eyes gave you so much joy in that moment that you almost felt like crying in happiness.

Then you realized that if he was going home, he was going to leave the shrine.

You still wanted to cry, but for a very different reason.

It’s stupid, you know that. Obviously, if Felix was to return to the sky, he would have to leave you behind. Just as stars don’t belong on earth, humans don’t belong in the sky. You don’t even think you’d want to live in the heavens, at least not forever.

But for the past months, you’ve managed to push that thought to the back of your mind. Felix is here, you told yourself. He’s here now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?

Clearly, it isn’t.

Everything happened so fast. It was like whiplash. One day, the witch was leaving and Felix was crying in your arms over the thought of never returning to the sky. The next, Changbin had found the book and there was a way to send your star home.

It happened too fast.

You’re being selfish, you know. Even though the sun is kind and the Earth welcomes him, this isn’t his home. He belongs in the sky, with the moon and the sun and the darkness of night. He doesn’t belong to the tainted impurity of the Earth.

And yet your heart doesn’t want him to leave.

“Copper for your thoughts?” Changbin pokes you with the book when you zone out for umpteenth time. With a jolt, you come back to the present, staring blankly at the sheet of paper in front of you. Written on it in Changbin’s neat scrawl is the phonetic translation of the symbols in the book.

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Sorry. I’m… tired.”

It’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, and the moon child knows it too. He puts the tome down and looks at you expectantly.

“What?” you snap, feeling cornered.

There are times when it’s hard to remember how old Changbin is, times when he seems more like a friend your age than an ages-old son of the moon. Right now, he’s a mix of the two, posture mimicking a slouching teenage boy, but eyes piercing with wisdom.

“Something’s on your mind,” he states simply. “And I think it has something to do with the star.”

Felix. The star. Your star.

Yes, it has very much to do with him.

The words slip out. “I don’t want him to go.”

A lump grows in your throat after you speak those simple words, staring at Changbin as though he holds the answers to your dilemma. But you already know the answer, the only correct answer – you must let your star go.

The problem is, you don’t want to.

The moon child brings you close after that, books and translations forgotten in favor of soothing hugs and quiet tears. He doesn’t tell you to do anything, doesn’t tell you to talk to Felix or the priestesses or even to avoid them. He just embraces you in silence with hands that hold the wisdom of an eternity.

You cite a headache as your excuse to go to bed early that night, curling up in your blankets on the floor and burying your head in the pillow. It takes some time, but you’re starting to drift off just as the door slowly creaks open and Felix pokes his head in the room. Immediately, you pretend to be asleep.

Mistake.

The star pads in with quiet feet, then picks you up with gentle arms and settles you on the bed. You can’t even protest or he’ll know you’re awake, so you lie in smoldering silence as he arranges the blankets over you.

He falls asleep on the floor while memories of his gentleness squeeze tears from your eyes.

. . . . .

Felix knows you’re avoiding him. There’s no doubt about it – no matter how much you claim you need to practice the ritual with Changbin, there are only so many times that excuse can hold merit. And anyway, there’s no reason he can’t be there too.

He thinks he knows why. It might have something to do with the fact that when he returns to the Sky, he will leave the Earth behind. Felix isn’t so oblivious as to believe his departure will leave no impression on you.

He isn’t so oblivious as to believe it’ll leave no impression on him, either.

The Sky is his home. There will never be any doubt of that. But he’s come to love the Mother Earth too, much more than he used to. He’s come to love her greenery, her creatures, the gentleness and care she showers her inhabitants with. He’s come to love the shrine, the priestesses, the maidens, the messengers.

And he’s come to love you.

If he stayed longer, Felix thinks, he would want to explore this tentative love, this blossom of affection in his chest. If he stayed longer, he might be disappointed, but he wouldn’t be sad. At least, not all the time.

The stars lure him in, though. Sometimes, he pretends to sleep, but he’s just staring out the small window in your room at the darkened sky studded with lights. His friends, his family. His home.

But he won’t go home without making peace with you first.

It’s hard to corner you when you don’t want to be caught, Felix finds. You disappear easily, quietly slipping between trees or into unknown rooms of the shrine. Even when you’re in plain sight, you’re busy – sweeping, cooking, gardening.

Then it rains.

Felix doesn’t normally care for the rain. It’s cold and wet, heavy and about as far from the gentle lightness of starshine as it can get. But the clouds heeded his prayers, perhaps, because the rain gives him the chance he needs to finally get you to talk.

You’re glancing out the window when he walks over, as though hoping a miracle will stop the pouring rain. When you notice him, your eyes turn slightly panicked, and you move as though to leave through the door.

The words escape him before he can hold them back. “Please stop avoiding me.”

You freeze.

For several moments, his broken, soft voice hangs in the silence, expanding to fill the room and thickening until he thinks he’s suffocating under the muffling words.

Then you drop your head. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, voice thick. “Let’s go to my room.”

. . .

Silence falls again when the two of you are seated on the small bed. You look smaller than ever, hunched over slightly, hands entangling themselves in the sheets. Felix wants to gather you up in a hug, the way you always did with him, but restrains himself. It isn’t the best time.

“Why were you avoiding me?” he asks quietly, just to dissolve some of the tension. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer, but he needs to hear it from you anyway.

Your fingers curl tighter into the blanket. “You’re leaving,” you mumble. “I just…”

The silence hangs heavily once more.

“I want you to go home,” you finally say, looking up. The sky outside the window is still dark gray, pouring rain, but you look at it like there’s something beyond the clouds that only you can see. “But I don’t want you to leave. Does that… does that make sense?”

Felix nods, once, twice. “Yes,” he manages. “Yes, it does.”

“I needed time to get my thoughts in order,” you continue, turning your gaze back to him. “I thought avoiding you might be the best way for a bit. But I’m a coward, I guess. I just kept trying to hide, even after I knew what I thought.”

“Do you still need more time?” Felix prods softly. “It’s fine. We have…”

He stops himself. He was about to say you two had all the time in the world.

You don’t. You only have around two months.

“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head. “I know… I know myself now.” Sad eyes stare into silver. “What about you?”

Felix knows his answer. It’s on the tip of his tongue, and if he could just get rid of the lump in his throat, he’d say it. Rain pounds on the window, mimicking the dull throb of the thoughts in his mind. He opens his mouth with difficulty.

“I don’t want to leave Earth,” he says slowly. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Your fingers loosen slightly on the sheets, then clench them even more tightly.

“But I have to return home.” Felix breaks his gaze, his head lowering. “I don’t… I don’t belong here, Y/N. I have to go home. I want to go home.”

Belatedly, he realizes how childlike he sounds. He sounds like a newborn star, newly formed of the moon and the sky, scared and terrified of the expanse of space in front of him. Shame crawls up his pale cheeks.

Then he feels a tender warmth around his shoulders. The thin mattress dips as you shift, wrapping your arms around his body – since when was he trembling? – and bury your head into his neck.

“You will go home,” you mumble into his skin. “You will go home. I promise.”

“I wish you could come with me,” he chokes out. “But you wouldn’t, even if you could, would you?”

The sigh you heave is all the answer he needs. “No,” you murmur, pulling back gently. “I wouldn’t.”

There are no apologies. No “sorry” for your decision, no “sorry” for his. There’s no blame here. Just facts, ways of life, and decisions.

A stray strand of hair falls into your face. Felix pushes it back gently. “You have too much here to give up for me.” He smiles sadly, his hand falling to cup your cheek. “As I have too much in the Sky to give up for Earth.”

You nod slightly, fingers rising to touch the hand on your cheek. Felix basks in the gentle warmth of your roughened skin.

He doesn’t know who leans in first, exactly. The memory is slightly hazy. But when his mind clears, he’s pressing his lips to yours gently, warmly, sadly. Your fingers intertwine, falling to your laps, and Felix tries to memorize the feeling. To memorize the way your hand fits into his, the way your lips feel so connected to his.

Two months. He has two months left before he must go.

Two months left before he leaves this warmth behind.

. . . . .

You pass the days with as much levity as possible. You don’t speak of leaving. Neither does Felix. Every day, the two of you work together on your chores, traipse into the forest, sit together in the sunshine. At night, when darkness falls, you crawl into bed together and hold each other until the sun rises.

Morning turns to night far too slowly, but far too quickly. In the back of your mind, there’s always a little voice reminding you just how long you have left. One day passed turns into two, then three. A week turns into two. Two weeks turn into four, and then there is only one full moon left to pass.

The night of the year’s fifth full moon, the last you will share before Felix leaves forever, you sit on the steps just outside of the shrine. Your star’s hair glows in the bright moonshine, bathing him in pale light.

A lump rises in your throat. You swallow it away. “Wait here,” you say.

You come back with your sketchbook and a few pencils. “Can I draw you?” you ask.

Silver eyes softly stare into yours. He nods.

This isn’t just a rough drawing. It isn’t one of the half-baked sketches you’ve done in the forest. No, this time, you want to capture the sparkle in your star’s pale eyes, the airiness of his blinding white hair, the exact location of each of the starry freckles dotting the sky of his cheeks.

It takes several nights to complete, sitting under the comforting rays of the waning moon, studiously ignoring the voice in your head that keeps chanting two weeks, two weeks. You sketch and resketch, rubbing bits of charcoal away, until on the third day, the sun is beginning to rise, and you have a portrait of the star you love.

You don’t cry. You promised yourself when you decided to draw the portrait and you promised yourself again when Felix sat, eyes expectant and soft and warm and gentle and kind. No tears will fall during the last few days you have together.

Your eyes still sting. Your throat still chokes. But even as Felix leans in, pressing the gentlest kiss upon your lips, you don’t let a single tear slip down your face. Not today, not tomorrow, not the next day.

And then it’s time.

. . .

The night is perfectly clear. Deep blue, so deep it’s almost black, ripples across the sky. Stars dot the landscape. The forest is silent, save for a slight rustling of trees.

Felix stands in a patch of moonshine, pale light glinting off of silver eyes. His eyes close as you begin to read from the book Changbin places in front of you, chanting strange words as the moonlight grows brighter.

Your eyes begin to sting. Your fingers begin to shake. Your throat begins to close, and your voice grows hoarse. But you keep speaking, words unwavering, until the chant is almost over.

Changbin pricks your finger. A drop of blood falls into the tiny bowl, already half-full of crushed herbs and two drops of Felix’s silver ichor. He gives the mixture to the star. Felix drinks it.

A wave of dizziness blows through your mind. You close your eyes, feeling a tear slide down your cheek, as the sky takes a day of your life away.

A day of your life for your star’s return to the sky.

It’s worth it.

As soon as the dizziness comes, it goes, leaving your mind clear once more. You finish the chant, voice trembling. It’s over.

Come dawn, your star will be gone.

Changbin leaves quietly, picking up the heavy book and disappearing back into the shrine. For a few moments, you sit with your star in silence, cool grass tickling your skin.

“Wait here,” you whisper eventually. “I have something for you.”

It’s a simple gift that you lay in his waiting hands, a worn, well-loved book with a torn leather cover and faded gold lettering. It’s familiar, and the corners of Felix’s lips lift in a ghost of a smile as he takes it.

“Thank you,” he says, clutching the book. One shiny tear drips onto the cover.

“I know it’s your favorite.” You try to smile, but it’s too hard. “Keep – keep learning to read, all right?”

He only squeezes your hand in reply. “Give me a moment,” he murmurs. “I have something for you too.”

He’s in and out of the shrine in seconds, carefully cradling something between his hands. A crown of wildflowers and leaves, interspersed with several delicate moonflowers. The ghostly petals glow in the moonlight as he places it in your windblown hair.

“It won’t decay,” he promises. “Changbin helped. I made it, but he gave it the magic.”

It’s too hard to not cry and you bury your face in your star’s shoulder, dreading every second that passes. Felix’s arms automatically loop around your waist, thin and warm and strong. “Hey, look up,” he whispers, his soft breath caressing your ear. “Look up for me, Y/N.”

Shakily, you comply.

“See that?” He points, finger glowing in the moonlight, at a patch of the sky. His constellation.

You nod.

“That’s where I used to be,” he murmurs. “Remember Peter Pan?”

“‘Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning,’” you recite, a shaky grin coming over your lips. “How could I forget?”

“Well, maybe I’m not the second star,” Felix says, pulling you close, “but I’ll always be there, all right? I’ll watch over you. You’ll know where I am, always.”

You take a breath. Nod. “Always,” you echo.

Little by little, as your quiet whispers and tiny laughs disappear on the wind, midnight begins to turn to dawn. Starlight fades, the sky turning from deep blue to pearly gray.

And as the moonlight disappears, Felix begins to turn translucent.

No, no, no, no…

Your heart races. Tears begin to pour down your cheeks. Felix looks as calm as ever, save for the slight panic in his eyes and the deep sadness etched in his face.

“Don’t forget me, Felix,” you beg, voice strained, words pleading. You try to breathe. “Please. Remember me.”

“How could I ever forget?” Your star smiles through the tears sliding down his cheeks. “You mean more to me than the earth itself.”

Minute by minute passes as you hold him, memorizing the weight of his body against yours, the warmth of his skin, the silver of his eyes, the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

“I love you, Felix,” you whisper, even as his freckles begin to disappear. The tears roll down faster. “Truly.”

“I love you too.” Even his voice sounds thinner. You strain to catch the deep tones of his words, the slight rasp in his throat as it fades away.

For a second, his entire body disappears. You almost scream, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Felix!”

“Hey, hey.” He holds your hands tight, even as his fingers flicker in and out of existence. His silver eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “When you’re lonely, find me in the sky, yeah? I’ll always be there.” Your star smiles. “You’re never alone.”

You lean in desperately, lips crashing against his with terror and love and everything in between. His fading hands rise to cup your cheeks and you tangle your fingers with his, trying to feel everything about him before he leaves.

The sky takes him mid-kiss, and you’re left holding air.

. . .

They find you there after dawn breaks, silent tears streaming down your cheeks as the sun rises. Jeongin holds you close, saying nothing as he helps you back to your room.

You see the portrait of Felix you drew so many nights ago sitting neatly on the small nightstand. His smiling face stares up at you, starry freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, silver eyes glittering on the paper.

It hits you in the gut that he is truly gone, that your star has left forever.

(Jeongin catches you when you collapse to the ground.)

A week passes before you find the courage to speak to the sky. The moon is dark but the stars twinkle mischievously, throwing bits of light onto the grass.

Felix’s constellation glows, a silver map of his freckles sparkling in the sky. There’s a star, small but very bright, that wasn’t there before.

Your throat chokes, but no tears fall. The constellation that dotted Felix’s cheeks is now complete.

“Hello, my star,” you whisper. His flower crown sits on your hair, glowing in the dark. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

Speaking to him hurts a little at first, stings a bit in the heart. You keep wanting to look over into his eyes of silver, see his pale hair glow in the moonlight. But as you talk to the constellation, imagining the freckles dotting your star’s cheeks, the lump in your throat fades, and you begin to smile.

A few tears fall that night, dripping onto blades of grass and your clothes, but not too many. Just a few. You talk of anything and everything, from new shenanigans to old memories to plans for the future. You promise him things, to love and honor him as long as you live, to stay a child, to remember the story of Peter Pan, even though the book has gone with him to the sky. You talk until your words are strong and the silences comfortable, broken only by the rustling of trees in the wind.

Wind wisps around your shoulders as you eventually stand, staring at the new star in the sky. It seems to glow a little brighter.

“I love you, Felix.” You smile up at the blanket of night. “Thank you, my star.”

The star glows even brighter. You can almost feel his presence by your side.

Second star to the right, straight on ‘til morning. I’ll be there, always – you’re not alone.

#starryktown #inkidz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz #felix #fluff #angst #nature spirit!au #stray kids felix scenarios #whispers of nature #constellation #scriptura-delirus

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babybottlepop96 · 4 years ago

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Someone to Love (Sai x Shikamaru) 18+ Only

Warning: Smut, minors DNI, cheating, breakups, getting drunk, I think that’s it?

A/n: I just really had this idea in my head and ShikaSai is like a rare pair that I really enjoy. So here you go.

“Sai, what do you mean by ‘You're not interested anymore?’” Ino asked her husband of the last four years, the father to her child, the man she had fallen for when they were teenagers. He simply looked at her, sitting in their shared bed, hair a mess, eyes turning red with all the tears she refused to let fall. He knew this would be hard, he knew this would hurt her so badly, but during the last few years he had grown more as an emotional person. Realizing that he simply didn’t love her as he thought he did. He tried, he really did. The learning experience he gained from his readings and interactions and watching his friends who acted truly in love with their partners or spouse had been nothing but hard for him as well. Seeing how Naruto and Hinata looked at each other, how TenTen and Shino shared soft touches when out on a date, even how Kiba and his partner would play with Akamaru and have a great time. He came to the understanding that he didn’t get those feelings when he was his wife. He realized he never actually did, it was a facade, an illusion he created to feel more human, to fit in with normal society. He wanted to feel that way, he tried everything in his power to feel the love and passion in his relationship with Ino. To put the same energy into this like Ino has done.

“I mean, I don’t love you the same way you love me, Ino.” He sighed as he looked at the floor, wishing he didn’t have to do this.

“After all these years? After all we have been through together? What about Inojin?” She asked, her heart breaking with every passing second he sat there, feeling further and further away from the man she married.

“Ino, I can’t keep pretending that I’m in love with you. Maybe I was at one point in time, but I can’t be certain. I also can’t let us still be a thing just for the sake of it, that's not fair to you, me or our son. You deserve someone who can make your world brighter, who can give you the same love and energy you give. I’m just not capable of it, I’ve tried. God, I tried. I tried so hard to give you what you rightly deserve from a husband. But, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Sai spoke, voice cracking slightly due to the emotional state he was also putting himself through. “I’ll still be a part of Inojin’s life. He is still my son, I’ll still be a part of your life as a friend, if you still want me to. But I think, this is what we have to do, if we ever want to be truly happy.” He looked at her this time, her bed head shaking softly and eyes shut trying to suppress any loud sobs from escaping, fear of waking up her sleeping child a few doors down.

“I understand, Sai.” She said, voice barely above a whisper, scratchy from being woken up in the early hours of the morning and the force she had to use to keep herself from fully breaking down in the moment. She understood his point, in fact, she thinks it was the bravest, kindest thing she ever heard, but that doesn’t make the fact that he was leaving her hurt any less. She loved the clueless man with all her heart. She wanted him to stay, but agreed to the unfairness and selfishness that would be if she asked him to stay. No more words were said as Sai stood, grabbing a bag to stuff some clothes and other necessities in. No words were spoken as Sai exited their once shared bedroom to stroll a few doors down to their son’s room. Sneaking in and giving his son a kiss to the forehead. A silent goodbye for now. And not noise was made as Sai removed himself from the only actual home he had ever known. Leaving behind the shattered heart of his once lover.

‘I’m doing this for all of us.’ He thought to himself as strolled through the empty streets of Konoha, heading to the inn on the other side of the village. After purchasing a room for a few nights, Sai decided he needed to stop thinking for a bit. Deciding to stop by the bar he passed by earlier, he needs to drown out the events of the last couple hours. Sitting at the bar, he ordered a glass of their strongest liquor.

~~~

“What the actual fuck, Temari?!” Shikamaru spoke loudly outside his home, his wife standing there, eyes wide and red from crying. Shikamaru had a lit cigarette hanging between his lips, hand running through his hair, loosening the neat ponytail he always wore.

“I’m sorry Shika!” She spoke, voice cracking every other syllable.

“You're sorry?! How long has this been going on?!” He spoke, trying to keep his own tears at bay.

“A few months.” She spoke honestly, voice quiet as she looked at the grass beneath her bare feet, wrapping her robe around her frame tighter to keep the chilly night air from nipping at the bare skin.

“A few months.” He spoke to himself in disbelief.

“You're never home anymore! Shikadai keeps asking where his daddy is and I have to keep explaining to him that you're at work! He wants his daddy! I wanted my husband! But your always fucking working!” She cried, body physically shaking with anger and grief.

“So you thought it would be better to cheat on me instead of just telling me all this?! I have to work to provide for us! I’m the hokage’s right hand man! My job takes up a lot of my time! You knew this before we even got together, Temari!” He took another long drag from his cigarette, pacing in his yard. Temari didn’t say another word as the two stood in the tension filled air, the weight of everything settling in like a four hundred pound weight on their shoulders. “Did nothing in our years together mean nothing?” He whispered.

“Of course it did! Shika, I love you! I love you so much!”

“Then what is the real reason you cheated?” He looked her straight in the eyes, wanting the honest, unfiltered answer.

“I needed someone to satisfy me, touch me, give to me the needs a woman wants from her husband.” She spoke harshly. He knew what she meant, she wanted to have someone who could be there for her, to be there touch her with soft caresses and gentle kisses. Something he barely did anymore due to the amount of work he had to do. He understood what she meant.

“But you didn’t have to go behind my back and betray my trust, Temari.” He turned around and left. He couldn’t be there right now, his heart cracking with every step he took away from his home. Walking past a bar, Shikamaru thought he deserved some drinks, drowning out the numb feeling that took over his body. As Shikamaru drank, a familiar face appeared a few seats down. Face looking just as sorrowful as his own probably looked. “Hey, Sai.”

Sai turned to look at Shikamaru, “Oh, Hello Shikamaru.” He faked a smile at his wife’s… ex-wife’s teammate. “What brings you here?” He asked, making his way to his friend after his drink was placed in his hands.

“Wife cheated on me, so I came here to drown out my sorrows with some good ol’ fashion painkiller.” Shikamaru chuckled darkly. “You?” He asked, taking a sip from his own glass.

“I broke things off with Ino, couldn’t let either of us stay in the relationship if it was only one sided.”

“She cheated?”

“No, I just came to learn that I don’t reciprocate the same feelings she does.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry man”

“Don’t be, I’m sorry about your situation as well. From what I read, cheating isn’t a good thing.” Sai sipped his drink. Shikamaru chuckled slightly at his friend, still the same Sai he met years ago. But he was older, more mature, better at understanding feelings. He grew into a handsome young man. The two drank more together, little by little, the two began to forget about their home troubles as more and more alcohol filled their systems. By the time the bar closed, both men were hammered, drunk off their asses as they stumbled against each other down the dirt streets of Konoha. “D-do you have a p-place to sleeeeeeeeeep?” A very drunk Sai asked and equally drunk Shikamaru.

“Oooooh fuuuuuuck. N-no!” Both men laughed holding onto each other for support.

“Come back to my room th-then.” Sai smiled and Shikamaru nodded quickly. Both men finally got to the room Sai had rented, both falling backwards onto the soft bed, sinking against it slowly. “I...I wish I could find someone like you Shika. I.. I mean… You’re a hardworking person. Like… like you're just so pretty too. Like a duck. Ducks are pretty SHikamaru.” Shikamaru couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wish I could find someone like you too. Don’t expect to be constantly followed around like a lost puppy. You...you are also pretty. But like… like a um.. What are those things with feathers? The things with two legs?”

“A peacock?”

“No.. no.. It’s.. it's like a cow… but not a cow.”

“Penguin?”

“YES! THAT!” The two burst into fits of giggles. After they calmed down, they just stared at each other, eyes locking intensely to each other. Neither moved nor said a word.

Suddenly, lips collided and hands grabbed at anything and everything they could find. Hair, limbs, the bedsheets. It was the most intoxicating thing either have experienced in so long. They felt electricity coursing through their veins that were once filled with grief and sorrow. Every touch sent heat compared to a fire everywhere they went. Clothes were discarded and thrown around the room, neither caring where they went or if they would be able to find them later. Sai was lying on top, forearms resting on either side of Shikamaru’s head. The man underneath had his hands in the other’s hair, slightly tugging to bring him closer. One of Sai’s hands slid down Shikamaru’s body, tracing and outlining every muscle until it came to the organ that needed the most attention.

His hand firmly gripped Shamaru’s cock, stroking it ever so gently. The small gasps and mewls Shikamaru let escape were swallowed by the other’s mouth, Sai’s tongue already winning the battle for dominance. With his other hand, Sai started to tease Shikamaru’s ass. Slender fingers running around the ring of muscle, lightly prodding the opening before slipping one in, already lubed from the small amount of natural lubricant that came from the tip of Shikmaru’s dick. “Oh, fuck!” Shikamaru gasped, mouth slight gaping at the unfamiliar intrusion. But he wasn’t about to complain, if he was being honest with his drunken self, he always felt something for the man on top of him. He just never realized it before, never fully cared to even consider the option. But here he was, letting himself get lost in the feeling of another man.

Sai entered another finger, scissoring the other open. Was this the feeling he wanted to so desperately give Ino? He didn’t know, but he did know that he liked whatever feeling this was. It was.. happy. Carefree. Addicting. He wanted more. He wanted to get drunk, not off more booze, but off the feeling Shikamaru gave him. He needed more.

He took out fingers, smiling slightly as the whimper that left Shikamaru’s swollen lips. He stared at the beauty of the man under him, eyes dark with lust. He aligned himself up with Shikamaru’s entrance. “I’ll be slow. I promise.” He spoke softly as he caressed the heated skin of Shikamaru’s cheek. He only got a nod in response as he slowly inched his way in. He read about using lube to help make things easier, but it seemed like neither cared at the moment, the slight burn actually felt good, maybe it was the drinks they had talking, but again, neither cared. They only relished in the feeling of one another, drinking in the blissed out faces each wore as Sai finally bottomed out. Both were still, letting each other adjust to the other.

“Move.” Was the only thing Sai needed to hear to start thrusting his hips against Shikamaru’s. Both let out a groan at the feeling, becoming more intoxicated as the thrust kept getting faster and harder. The tip of Sai’s cock hit Shikamaru’s prostate, causing the man to let out a loud moan, causing Sai’s dick to twitch, it was like the world's most beautiful song, a song being played just for him.

“You sound.. So beautiful.. Shikamaru.” Sai grunted as he aimed for the same spot over and over again.

“I.. I’mma… cum?!” Shikamaru moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He was so close, so terribly close it almost hurt. Sex with Temari was never this good, never this emotional, never this….. Free.

“Cum with me, Shika. Let me see your beautiful essence all over us.” Sai grunted, nearing his release as well. With one hand firmly planted on Shikamaru’s hip, the other went to vigorously pump his dick. Shikamaru came with a loud moan, Sai followed soon after, releasing his seed inside his friend. All movement ceased, the only sounds being the heavy breathing coming from the two men. Said pulled out and Shikamaru felt the cum seep from his ass and onto the blankets beneath him. The two looked at each other, both their eyes slowly closing. Sleep was finally taking over them, from the emotional night of heart beak, drinking and great sex, both closed their eyes, slightly snuggling against each other. Consequences can be damned till the time they woke up. Right now, everything was okay. They were at peace.

#not sfw #minors dni #shikamaru+smut #sai+smut #shikamaru x sai #drunk #cheating #hurt #saishika #shikasai #SaiShika #ShikaSai

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forcefully-awoken · 3 years ago

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hello! this is for the citrus dome's Gods AU Part 2 electric boogalo. you can find the other amazing works right here!

Summary: The sea calls to you, but then again so does the beautiful maiden at the stable next door.

Poseidon! Tsuyu x F! Reader

warnings: period typical misogyny, suicide attempt, angst angst angst, cunnilingus

WC: 2.7k

The sea is calling to you again.

It whispers, day and night, like a siren, a lover, beckoning you come closer, dip your toes in the water. It says to dip your head in, your heart, let it swallow you whole. It knows your heart, the waves say. The sea knows your soul, knows you as if you are it’s own daughter. The wants you, nearly as much as you want it.

But now your mother is calling you, beckoning you home. You turn, forcing your eyes away from the crashing waves, letting them trail over the sandy beaches to the rolling hills. There’s only a lecture waiting for you at home. You walk home as slowly as possible, taking the twisting path that leads to the stable next door to your home. The hem of your dress brushes the dirt- another lecture.

Lecture after lecture is how your life is divided. Your dress isn’t tight enough, no now it’s too tight. You shouldn’t slouch, well, now you’re just showing off your chest. You should find friends your own age- no, friends don’t show each other affection like that! You can already hear your mother yelling about standing around, doing nothing as you stare out into the distance, lost in thought about how you’ll distract her and steal away to your bedroom when you see her.

You’d heard rumors about a young woman joining the workers of the stable but you didn’t believe them until now. There she was, brushing a horse and whispering quietly too it. You knew it couldn’t be just a slight young man, not from her hips, the waist you wanted to wrap your hands around, from the long curtain of black hair so dark it looked green in the setting sunlight. Your feet move without you thinking- and then suddenly you’re next to her.

“What a beautiful horse,” You murmur out, reaching a hand up to stroke it’s soft hair. The woman smiles at you, all teeth, bright eyes as green as the seaweed that sometimes floats to shore. Neither of you speak- hell, you don’t even offer up your name which your mother would have a fit about your failing manners. You simply stand in silence, petting the horse and she brushes it.

Your hands touch, barely anything at all, your pinky against hers, but it’s enough- there’s a shock wave that rolls through your body, a fire being lit from within like you’ve never felt before.

The earth moves, and when it’s finally done moving you run home, not daring to look back.

You think you might go out, back to the stables the next morning. Surely, it must have been some weird fluke of nature that the earth moved as your skin met the other woman’s, and maybe you could still salvage something. Have a friend close by that didn’t know all about the wicked things people said about you. Your father puts a quick end to your plans with a simple statement at breakfast.

“I think it’s time for you to get married.” His tone of voice leaves no room for arguments, and even your mother won’t meet your eye when you look towards her pleadingly. You should have known this was coming- at twenty, almost twenty one, you’re an old maid to them both. “I have arranged for an acceptable suitor to come for dinner, two nights from now. Please make sure that you’re here and dressed appropriately.” You murmur your agreement and that’s that.

The dinner in question is awful. The man your father thinks of as an acceptable suitor is nothing like you would have picked for yourself, even if you had to pick a man. He’s rude, and his hands are rough when he takes yours. His larger hand dwarfs yours completely, and he puts too much pressure on yours so it’s almost painful. You’ve heard talk of him from the girls in town- about this brute of a man who visits houses of ill repute, who pays more just to be a little mean, who’s been kicked out of them more times than anybody can count but has the money to buy his way in again.

He talks business with your father the whole meal and doesn’t even look at you. The two of them talk and talk and talk and never once does your intended look at you, really look at you. Your mother sends you a soft, sad smile but that hardly helps. Dinner could be the most delicious meal you’ve ever had, and perhaps it is with how your father wants to impress the man but the meal tastes like ashes in your mouth, tastes like nothing but sadness and a lifetime of looking the other way. You wonder if you can choke on it, and end the matter here and now.

But you don’t choke. You play your part far too well. You’re the doting daughter, lovely and mysterious and virginal (because of course the man had to ask and your father was quick to assure him.) They shake hands at the end of the dinner and that’s it. Your whole life is slipped away just like that, like it’s another day at the office for your father, like it’s nothing at all to him to consign you to this fate.

This time when you steal out of the house late at night your feet move with a very simple thought: you just want to get away. You get as far as the waves, let them lap at your ankles and wonder what it would be like to give into that delicious urge to submerge yourself entire into the sea. They wouldn’t notice your absence until morning and by then you’d be gone, far gone.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” A voice calls out to you. Your head whips around so fast it hurts and you see her sitting there, in the sand. The woman from the stable. She’s dressed like a man, something you find yourself envying her for because it has to be easier to run away if you’re wearing pants. “The sea likes pretty girls like you. It would swallow you down.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” You whisper more to yourself than her. Still, you move back, sighing and sitting next to her. There’s a voice in your mind that sounds like your mother, chastising you for messing up your dress, for letting your guard down around a stranger.

When you look at the woman she’s looking at you. You feel drawn to her, compelled closer and closer.

“I’m Tsuyu,” She says, smiling when you give your own. “If you want to rebel a little I can help you with that. No need to throw yourself into the ocean when I’m right here.” You think she’s lying around her name because she won’t meet your eyes but nothing sounds better than rebellion.

Her lips taste like the sea when they meet yours.

It’s so easy to give into Tsuyu, to let her press you back onto the blanket she had spread out. Her tongue traces the seam of your lips and your mouth parts for her, just as easy as your legs do for her to slide between them, holding herself over you. It’s your first kiss, and as far as you know it won’t be your last, though it sears itself into your mind as the only kiss that will matter to you. Her tongue slides against your own, twisting around it in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your hips roll up and Tsuyu’s hands hold them down again. Her mouth leaves yours, moving down to your throat, nipping at your exposed pulse point. The fire inside of you is growing again, threatening to burn your heart out, but the soft sigh Tsuyu gives against your skin helps, even a little.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” She murmurs, reaching to help you out of your clothes. It’s a tangle of limbs and cloth but soon enough you’re in your under things in front of her- a slip that hardly hides anything and your underwear. “Like a mermaid.”

“Seen a lot of mermaids?” You break off into a squeal as her lips close over your nipple, sucking on it through the thin cloth that separates you from her. Your fingers tangle in her silky hair, tugging on it just this side of painful that makes her teeth come into play. You swear they’re sharper, longer than a normal humans but she nips at you other nipple and you don’t really care that much anymore. Her fingers are moving the straps down your shoulders, until the cold night air hits where her mouth has been.

“Oh, fuck,” Tsuyu breathes out when your chest is exposed to her. Your hands come up automatically to hide yourself but she’s quicker, pinning them back down. “Don’t hide from me, don’t you dare.” If you thought her mouth was hot before it’s scalding now. Her teeth scrape against your skin, leaving sharp rivers of pleasure behind. She’s still fully dressed, something you want to change but you can’t think, can’t do anything but lay back and let her have her way with you.

Your slip comes off, and then your underwear, and for the first time in your life someone who isn’t you is touching your most intimate area. You haven’t explored much down here, being such a sweet girl and your parents bedroom sharing a wall with yours, so Tsuyu’s fingers feel even more shocking. She parts your folds easily, and brushes up against a small bundle of nerves that has you jumping back. Her hands grip your thighs, digging into the flesh and bringing you back closer to her. You have to hide your face in your hands, one over your mouth to smother any noises that might escape.

“I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look,” You don’t even have time to question what she means before her mouth is on you, sucking at that bundle of nerves that has you damn near screaming against your hand. Her fingers come up, lithe and clever, spreading you open, using the wetness she finds between your legs to push them into you. There’s some burning but mostly just waves after waves of pleasure, the fire inside of you is an inferno, burning off anything you carried before. Her tongue is in you, pressing up against something that has you openly weeping into the night, your body curling around her head until you’re shaking, begging for her to stop.

“Rebellious enough for you?” Tsuyu asks, giving a sharp bite to your inner thigh. You can only reply with a laugh, accepting her help in getting dressed again. You’re lucky it’s the middle of the night, there’s no way anybody would believe you had simply just slipped and fell. You look like a mess, like you’ve been out to sea.

Tsuyu walks you to the gate, and when you turn back she’s gone. You think you see her disappear into the tide.

Your mother finds out about your late night excursions to meet Tsuyu after they’ve been happening for nearly two weeks.

She’s incandescent with rage- about how this might affect your upcoming marriage, about the shame it will bring upon the family, about what people might think. The only consolation is at least you can’t be pregnant. Still, your wedding gets moved up to as soon as your mother can make it happen.

You’re locked inside your room for two whole weeks, left to waste and wallow in your own depression. Preparations are made but you aren’t consulted. You can hear people outside the door, can see out the window, the sea is in the distance and yet here you remain.

Your wedding is too soon upon you, the happiest day of your short life but it feels like you’re walking to the gallows as you walk down the aisle. The man who’s to be your husband waits at the end of it, leering at you in a way that makes your skin crawl. Your father gives you away, and somewhere in your heart you think you might hate him. There’s to be a party, a reception in the newlyweds honor and then you have to leave the only home you’ve ever known to go off with a stranger whose name you can’t even remember.

When he takes your hand the earth stands still, when he speaks to you it sounds like boulders crashing into another, when his lips brush yours the fire inside you turns to embers, trying to fade itself out. You smile as much as you can as you look into his eyes- brown like mud. You resign yourself to a lifetime of this, of being only partially true to yourself.

It only takes half a glass of wine for you to find your courage. The alcohol makes your brain go fuzzy almost immediately and you find yourself slipping easily away from your new husband, something about needing to use the bathroom, and then you’re alone for the first time all day. Nobody’s watching you as you leave the garden, or listening as the lock on the gate snaps shut behind you. Nobody cares about where you’ve gone as you march with determination down to the beach.

Your dress is large and cumbersome but it’s perfect for what you have in mind. It acts like a weight as you step into the sea. It holds you as you keep walking, out into the waves that welcome you like friends, drags you down so that you can’t fight. There’s a moment of brief panic before your head is submerged but falling into the depths of the ocean doesn’t feel like giving up, doesn’t feel like running away, it feels like coming home. It feels like belonging and acceptance and the brush of Tsuyu’s lips against yours.

The salt stings your eyes but as they close you would swear you can see her swimming towards you.

You wake on a bed of hard stone.

You’re alone in a room, also made of stone, and everything is beige and you wonder if this is what the afterlife is just like- monotonous. There’s nobody around and your dress isn’t even wet. It’s also not the dress you remember wearing as you walked into the ocean. There’s a window and when you look out of it you scream.

You’re underwater.

Your scream brings someone running, you can hear the footsteps. You don’t even think to hide as Tsuyu walks into the room. Her skin looks different now, it’s taken on a pale green sheen to it. She’s wearing some sort of wrap, like you’ve seen in history books, like they wore centuries ago. Her smile breaks wide and- you knew it. Her teeth are wrong. They’re sharp and pointy and predatory but you don’t feel scared at all.

“I’m sorry,” She starts, walking towards you, palms up to show she means to harm. “I lied to you, somewhat. My name is Tsuyu now. You might have heard me called Poseidon.”

Poseidon. Earth shaker. King of the sea, of storms, of horses. Your vision swims in front of you and you sit on the hard stone once more.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a man?” You find yourself asking, the only thing that can come to mind. Tsuyu tilts her head back, letting out a loud laugh.

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” She replies, taking a seat next to you. “Say the word and it will be yours.”

“Why?” You don’t jerk away when her hand finds yours, so much warmer than your own is right now, “Why me?”

“You were so beautiful and your eyes were so sad,” Tsuyu says, looking into your sad eyes now. “And I wanted to change that.” You think on her words, on what she’s offering. The world, the whole ocean laid at your fingertips, the only thing you’ve ever wanted. You think of the life you’ll give up if you say yes, of the responsibilities that lay on your shoulders like an anchor. You think of how that man’s eyes trailed over your body, you think of the bright green of Tsuyu’s.

“I want you,” You say, after a long moment of thought. “Only you.” There’s no denying the predatory nature of her grin now, but any screams you give that night aren’t fearful.

And they’re swallowed by the waves, just as you were.

#suicide tw #tsuyu x reader #tsuyu asui x reader #♟.collab #♟.bnha #♟.tsuyu

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