#Words of advice; Never ever ever EVER say anything threatening towards or about Stretch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Note

hi can you write about spending a valentine’s day with gray pls?

valentine’s day smut w/ gray? + more haha sorry couldn’t put them all in

A/N: I’m sorry this is a day late. It was supposed to be 90% smut but somehow it took on a mind of its own and turned into this monster.

warnings: smut, extremely cheesy, way too long

***

It should be a given understanding that Valentine’s Day is the dumbest, most antiquated, overrated holiday that’s ever existed. That had always been your take on it, even as a little kid — the worry of spelling your classmates’ names correctly on cards imprinted with cheesy Scooby Doo and Spongebob puns; the expectation to dress up nice in the hopes you would get asked to be someone’s Valentine in the hallways of middle school; the potential embarrassment of being the only person in class who didn’t get bought one of those stupid roses from a ‘secret admirer’ in high school.

There’s simply too much pressure surrounding the idea of professing your love or even your mere fondness for anyone and everyone in your life. The fear of rejection if you do, and the judgement if you don’t. It had always made you anxious, whether you had someone to share the day with or not.

But this Valentine’s Day, as a young twenty-something, you were actually (secretly) looking forward to it. Conner was your first adult relationship, with the title of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ and labels and commitment. He’s cute and smart and charming and yours. So, sue you if you were quietly anticipating wearing that SavageXFenty set beneath a brand new dress while you went to dinner after being greeted at the door with roses and a box of chocolates.

And yet here you are, on February 14th, hood of your sweater drawn over your head as you rummage through your freezer with a clear target in your mind. Your eyes are blurry and swollen, but you find the pint of birthday cake Nada Moo with ease, and you slam the freezer door closed a little harder than you really mean to as soon as it’s in your grasp.

You’ve just popped the lid off when your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter where you’ve plopped down to eat your depression snack in a more acceptable place than your bed or the couch.

You see Grayson’s name accompanied by a goofy, up-close picture of him smiling filling the screen, and hesitate. He’s one of your best friends, and clearly done nothing wrong, but you’re not sure you’re capable of handling anyone of the male species right now after...everything.

At the end of the day, though, it’s Grayson. He knows heartbreak almost better than anyone, and you’ve coached him through it on more than one occasion. Maybe he can spew back some of your own advice if it comes to that.

You swipe the bar at the bottom of the screen, and your ceiling suddenly replaces the image of his silly, handsome face. “Sup?”

“Yo. Am I interrupting anything? Sorry, just remembered what day it is.”

You swallow. “Uh no, you’re not.”

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip hard, digging your spoon into the softened ice cream. Was it that obvious just from your voice that you had been upset? Or does he just know you that well?

“Nothing.”

“You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie. Let me see your face.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you concede. “No. I’ve been crying.”

He’s quiet, and you can’t bring yourself to look at his own face in the corner of the screen. You shove the chunk of ice cream past your lips, and after a moment he says with a softer tone, “Crying on Valentine’s Day is never a good sign.”

You’re glad that you’ve gotten so much of your tears out already, because you feel the inevitable prickle behind your eyes that would have been full-blown waterworks a few hours ago. You scoop another bite. “Conner cheated on me — has been, cheating on me. I found out last night.”

Grayson sighs your name, and something about the genuine sympathy in his voice makes you even more emotional. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. What a piece of shit.”

You shrug even though he can’t see, and sniffle past the lump in your throat. “It’s whatever. I’m still in shock more than anything. Hurts like hell, though, still. I let him have it when I saw the texts and he hasn’t tried to call me once. No texts. Nothing.”

He’s silent, but it’s that raging silence you know oh so well from him. It doesn’t happen often, but anyone who knows Grayson Dolan knows that when his volume comes down, he means business. A loud and obnoxious Grayson is a happy one, but a brooding and quiet one means serious business.

“Do you want me to go beat his ass? I’ll do it.”

A smile cracks your scowl before you know it, and you shake your head. “No thanks, Gray. As much as I’d love to see that happen, I like your face the way it is. And not on a mugshot.”

He chuckles a little, and you feel your chest lift some just hearing the familiar depth of it. “Well, do you at least want me to come over later? I totally get if you need to be alone, but I know from experience sometimes what helps the most is having good friends around.”

You’re a little surprised. “You don’t have a date?”

“Nope.”

“No one from the roster hitting you up?”

“I don’t have a roster,” he argues playfully, but you both know that’s a lie, if not at least a stretch of the truth. “And even if I did, you’re more important. Always.”

You sigh and take another bite. His words make your neck tingle and your toes wiggle, but you ignore it; your brain is full of confusion as it is. “That makes one man in my life who thinks so, I guess.”

You finally prop your phone up against the fruit basket sitting in the middle of your bar so he can see you. Grayson takes in your image, which admittedly must look kind of pathetic, and you watch his jaw clench and release in a way that you can’t deny is utterly sexy.

“Is an hour okay? Tell Vanessa to come, too.”

“Benito took her to Tulum for the weekend,” you say, referring to your best friend and her boyfriend. “She did threaten to get on a plane and come home early for me, though.”

Grayson grins crookedly, but his jaw is still tight. “Well, tell her you’re in good hands. See you in an hour?”

You give it one last quick consideration; you already feel this much better just talking to him on the phone. Nothing bad could come from him being in your apartment, and you trust him. “Yeah, that’s fine. But just so you know, I’m already at the stage of eating ice cream at 10:30 AM.”

“Did you forget you’re talking to the emotional ice cream eating champion? No judgement here.”

You finally let out a giggle, your spirits officially lifted. “I’ll see you soon.”

True to his word, Grayson arrives at your door about an hour later, his arms laden with milkshakes from Monty’s, a gift bag decorated all over with sparkly hearts, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You’re stunned. The only thing you’d managed to do in the time it took him to get here was take a quick shower in attempts to rid your face of some of the puffiness, throw on some shorts this time with a fresh hoodie, and toss the used tissues scattered around your place into the garbage.

Before you can say anything, he holds out the flowers. “They were out of roses. But I know you like pink.”

You reach out for them slowly, eyes wide, your fingers brushing his when you grasp the plastic wrapping. His cheeks are a similar color to the petals, and it makes both your heart and your lips smile.

“Peonies are my favorite,” you say truthfully. “And yes, especially pink ones. Thank you, Gray.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, sounding relieved.

As he crosses the threshold of your door, he leans down to kiss your cheek, and you can’t help but hum quietly and pull him in for a hug. “That gift better not be for me, either,” you mumble into his chest.

Grayson pulls back, his eyes sparkling, but keeps you close with an arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. “Oh, this? No, this is for my other best friend I’m trying to cheer up on Valentine’s Day.”

You slap his arm playfully, and lead him into your kitchen, pulling out a vase from the cabinet beneath your sink for the flowers.

The bag has a few gifts in it: a new Comfy (“I remembered you ruined yours when that ketchup bottle exploded all over you the other day”); a huge bag of watermelon sour patch kids (“I know they’re your favorite. Also ice cream gives you brain freeze after the first pint or so, trust me”); and a heart shaped box of your favorite chocolates (“you can eat them or burn them, I wasn’t sure which you’d appreciate more but either is fine with me.”)

You appreciated all of it, more than he would ever understand. All you can do is fling yourself at him weakly, completely overwhelmed. “Fuck you, you’re gonna make me cry all over again.”

Grayson envelops you in those huge, muscular arms, cooing behind that laugh you love so much. “Is that a really backwards way of saying thank you?”

You grunt in affirmation, and with you still wrapped up in his arms, he starts waddling the two of you back the short distance into your living room.

“Here,” he says, coaxing you down into the blanket nest you had created on the couch. “You chill and find a movie. I’ll make popcorn.”

You do, and he does, and the next few hours are spent lounging about in your apartment. Having him here with you is doing wonders from keeping your mind from going down the paths you’d been spiraling towards ever since you saw the messages between Conner and no less than four other girls on Snapchat. You don’t believe in snooping, but finding the first one had been an accident when he received the snap while you had his phone, and your finger happened to press the icon at just the right moment.

In your eyes, though, the image of one pair of tits that weren’t your own was enough justification to see what else you could find.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of relieved,” you told Grayson a while later, Shrek playing on the TV quietly. He’s sitting next to you, far enough apart for there to be couch space between the two of you, but close enough to share the oversized blanket thrown over your laps. “Obviously what he did is so fucking shitty and I’m not justifying it in any way, but I can be honest with myself now and realize I wasn’t in that relationship for the right reasons. There wasn’t anything there emotionally at the end of the day.”

“You still have every right to feel hurt by what he did, though. It’s a huge violation of trust,” Grayson assures, reaching out and squeezing your hand gently.

You squeeze back and grimace at him. “Yeah.” You let out a little mirthless laugh and shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “It’s so embarrassing, too. And finding out the day before Valentine’s, no less. Like, I just wanted to look cute, have a nice dinner, have some nice sex, and just... I don’t know. Have an actual Valentine’s day for once. No pressure or anxiety or anything.”

Grayson stares at you in that way he does — so intense and almost intimidating if there wasn’t a genuine warmth behind it. You’re suddenly aware of his thumb brushing the back of your hand slowly. He squeezes your fingers again.

“So, let’s do it, then. You and me.”

You arch a brow at him, smiling at the rosiness in his cheeks when he realizes what he might have implied. “The dinner part, I mean. And the dressing up. Even though I think you look plenty cute right now.”

You roll your eyes, but for the countless time that day, your heart flutters happily. Looking back, you can’t remember the last time Conner had complimented your appearance, let alone after hours of crying and lazing around in sweats, sugar crystals stuck to the corner of your lip.

“That would be great, except there’s no way we’re getting into any restaurant at this point,” you remind him. “Probably no delivery, either.”

“I’ll cook for you,” he counters, throwing the blanket off his legs and standing up with a groan. He stops to stretch, and the way his arms go over his head makes his shirt ride up at the bottom, exposing a chunk of hard muscles and golden skin.

You swallow, eyes trailing up the rest of his torso appreciatively. “I don’t have much.”

He’s already rummaging through your pantry, though, and pulls out a half-full box of pasta, a jar of marinara sauce, and a leftover chunk of sourdough bread. “You got salad stuff?”

You nod, and he opens the fridge to find some lettuce, peppers, and other salad fixings before setting them with the pasta ingredients on the counter. “Go get dressed, look as cute or not cute as you want. I’ll take care of this.”

He’s absolutely unreal. “Gray-”

Grayson holds up his hand. “Ah, no, I’m doing this. You deserve it. Also, I’m hungry. It’s a win-win.”

Your stomach growls as well, and that’s all the convincing you need. While he gets busy in the kitchen, you tidy up the living area some before heading to your room. You feel a little silly, making your third outfit change of the day, but you also like the giddiness in the pit of your belly at the thought of Grayson doing all of this for you. You might as well take advantage of having someone like him in your life. Show him some Valentine’s appreciation of your own.

You forgo the slinky red number you had planned to wear to the restaurant with Conner, and opt instead for a rather unsuspecting blouse-jeans combo, which happen to both respectively frame your tits and ass perfectly.

The lacy, bright pink set in the back of your closet might have made it beneath your clothes, though. The prettiness of it made you feel that much better, even if no one else was going to see it.

Maybe.

Padding back into your kitchen after running a flat iron through your hair and throwing on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss, you find Grayson draining the pasta into a colander in the sink.

Grayson does a double-take when he sees you standing there admiring the flex of his bicep as he holds the pot. “Hey! You look amazing.”

“If you say so,” you joke, bumping his hip with yours as. You pass him to pull plates and bowls out of the cabinet.

“I do,” he insists quietly.

Arm outstretched mid-reach, you look over at him, locking eyes with his hazel ones. He looks a little surprised by the words that left his mouth, like he meant for them to stay inside his head. There must be some kind of challenge in your gaze, daring him to elaborate.

He busies himself with the pasta again hastily, his voice low. “Conner is a fucking idiot. To do that to you. To let you go. You don’t deserve that. Especially not today.”

Plates in hand, you rest them gently on the counter with your lower lip caught between your teeth, and peer over at this handsome man you’re so proud and lucky to call your best friend. He’s everything you thought Conner was — cute and smart and charming — but so much more — beautiful and good and kind.

And he’s been right here in front of you the whole time.

You reach out and touch his elbow softly. The hairs on his forearm are crisp but soft, and you follow them down to that gleaming watch on his wrist.

“You know,” you start quietly, fingers tracing the links of the band before flipping his hand over to trace the lines of his palm, “you keep talking about what I deserve today. But you deserve all that and more. You deserve someone’s love that matches your own.”

He watches your delicate fingers on his large, calloused palm, then trails his eyes up to yours when he feels their attention on his face. A piece of hair flops into his eyes, and you reach up without thinking or any hesitation to push it away again with a little smile playing on your glossy lips.

You look down and lay your palm flat against his, admiring the difference in size between your hands for a moment before interlocking your fingers with his.

“I love you.”

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise; he beat you to the words.

“In case that wasn’t obvious,” Grayson continues, turning towards you. “And I hope that’s not too much for you to handle, with everything you’ve had hap-”

“I love you too, Gray,” you interrupt, stepping that much closer to him so you’re nearly chest-to-chest with him.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost boyish in his astonishment, and it makes you want to hold him tight and never let go.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “A lot. I’m sorry it took me getting dumped to realize it.”

He shakes his head, his hand resting on your cheek gently. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod once before he’s swiftly ducking down to claim your lips with his. They’re soft and pliable, and you feel their effects from the nerves in your scalp all the way down to your bare toes.

“Grayson,” you breathe, lashes fluttering open as he pulls back just enough to look at you concernedly.

You smile, bigger and brighter than you have all day, and cup his stubbled cheeks with your hands, scratching your nails gently against his jaw. “I just wanted to say your name.”

Grayson grins now, too. He kisses you more insistently now that he’s got the taste of you on his tongue, which he flicks against the underside of your top lip as he breaks the kiss. “Say it again.”

“Make me,” you challenege, voice breathy and excited, eyes closed as you savor his sweet breath against your lips. “In my room.” You feel him tense up a bit, and you open your eyes to meet his questioning gaze, biting back a smile at the inevitable hope also shining there. “I’m sure.”

With that, Grayson hauls you up into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist with a squeal as he buries his face into your neck. He starts making the way to your bedroom, cooked food left long forgotten in the kitchen behind you.

“Are you wearing my signature scent?” he asks, inhaling your skin deeply.

“Mmhm,” you hum, threading your fingers through the back of his thick hair. It’s so long again, and you give the dark strands a sharp tug that makes him grunt. “Part one of my gift to you. Since you got so many for me today.”

“Part one, huh?” he says, crossing the threshold of your room. “What’s part two?”

“What I’m wearing underneath this,” you whisper in his ear, giggling loudly when he lies you down on the bed with more of a toss than he might have intended. “If you want it, that is.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind at the mere suggestion that he wouldn’t, and you take that as enough encouragement to tug at the bow tying your forest green silk wrap blouse together.

The folds part open and expose your chest, clad in that pink lace demi-cup bra with the cage detailing over the tops of your breasts. Grayson moans and dips down to nuzzle your cleavage, breathing in the scent of your warm skin. His hands trail up your sides, from your hips to your rib cage, until they settle in the dips of your waist. His touch ignites you, makes your back arch and your hips grind up against his thigh between your legs, just from the sensation of his hands on these new parts of your body.

“Grayson,” you sigh, and he smirks up at you with his chin on your tits when he realizes that’s all it took for you to say his name again.

You grab his cheeks and kiss that smugness away, shifting your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist once again, pushing down on the small of his back to get your centers to meet.

Both of you gasp into each other’s mouths when his erection rubs against your pussy, even through all the layers of clothing still on your bodies. You reach down blindly, still attacking his mouth with yours, and feel around for his belt.

His pants come off, followed by yours, and he sits you up enough to push your blouse off your shoulders rather gently considering the intensity of everything. Once the garment is tossed over his shoulder, you’re down to nothing but that pretty lingerie and he in his boxer briefs.

There’s a moment of pause and clarity for the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as the reality hits of what you’re about to do. What it means to both of you. Grayson stares down at you, and places a hand over your rapidly thumping heart.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly, dragging his hand up your chest, over your throat, until he’s cupping you’re cheek and stroking your lip with his thumb.

You smile in return, then part your lips with your eyes locked on his, encouraging him silently to slip that digit in your mouth.

Grayson’s eyes darken, and he offers you his pointer finger instead, swallowing hard when you suck and swirl your soft, wet tongue around it.

Suddenly, he’s rolling the two of you over, switching positions so he’s on his back and you straddle him. You smile happily, taking your turn to duck down and attach your lips to the pulse point his neck, grinding down on his cock with a slow, steady rhythm.

“You’re so amazing, Gray,” you tell him, nipping at the lobe of his ear before kissing the underside of his chin. “Can’t believe you’re all mine now.”

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” he growls back, cursing when you trail your kisses down the center of his body, giving each one of those moon’s their own special attention before continuing down.

When you get to the waistband of his underwear, you trail your tongue on the edge of the elastic and watch his abs contract with each shaky breath he takes. One little move of your hands, and you’ll finally get to see what he’s really packing.

But before you can even hook your fingers there to pull down, he’s tugging on your hair. “Fuck, fuck, c’mere. Please.”

You pout, but follow his lead, licking back up his muscular torso until he’s able to drag you to him for a deep, wet kiss.

“Sit on my face,” he demands, shuffling down on the pillow to make more room for you.

That takes you off guard. “But—”

“Do it. Please. I fucking have to taste you.”

Your body must be working ahead of your brain, because before you know it, you’re straddling Grayson’s face, his tongue is sweeping through the wetness in your slit, and his dark eyes are peering up at you from between your thighs.

“Oh... oh!” you cry out when his tongue starts flicking against your clit. He goes back to swiping up all your arousal, then suctions his lips around your clit. He’s using one hand to hold the lace of your thong aside, and the other dips first one finger, then two inside of you. “Oh, fuck, that’s so good...”

Grayson moans, the vibrations erupting around your clit and sending you right to the edge already. You reach back and palm his cock, rock hard in his underwear still, and squeeze as he makes you cum all over his mouth.

He gets his fill of your cum as he groans and keeps up the motion of his fingers, the pressure of his lips, the softness of his tongue as your pussy pulses with each contraction of your orgasm. You wait for him to start letting up, but something about the way he’s working you just makes those waves stay steady rather than die down again. Maybe that’s his intention, because when you drop your head down to look at him with your mouth wet and agape, there’s a sparkling mischief in his eyes has he eats you out like his last meal.

Your hips grind against his face of their own accord, and you delve one hand in his hair while the other supports you on the headboard. You gasp out a quivering, breathless laugh as it all becomes just too much, and you try to lift off his mouth.

Grayson isn’t having it, though. He wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you down, reveling in the moans and whimpers and squeals as he makes you cum again.

“Oh my god — enough, enough, I can’t...” you whine, shoving on his forehead until he releases you and drops his head to the pillow. You could already see it by the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, but he’s smirking wide, chest heaving as you slink your way down his body.

You collapse next to him in a daze, and he rolls on top of you smoothly, peppering little kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, your nose. When you’re back in your right mind, you nudge blindly at his face so his lips find yours. He tastes like your pussy, and you sigh happily as you lift your heavy arms to wrap around his neck while his scoop beneath you, holding you close.

You continue to indulge in each other for a while, in the kisses you hadn’t been allowed to share until now. There’s something exciting about his familiarity and yet also this strange newness that has you absolutely desperate for him in every way.

“This is crazy,” you say when you pull back for air, studying his face hovering right above yours. You push back that stubborn chunk of hair that keeps falling into his eyes with a soft smile. “How did we end up here?”

Grayson turns his head to press his lips to your palm. “I don’t know. Is it too much? Should we stop?”

You shake your head vehemently, and he grins. “No, please. I think I just have to grasp that you’re really... mine now.”

He chuckles. “How do you think I felt watching you with that loser for five months?”

The mention of Conner makes you feel nothing — nothing other than gratitude for Grayson, that is. You slide your hands down his back, over his ribs, across his abs until your hand cups his dick.

His hips thrust into your touch, and you grin up at him demurely as you finally delve your hand past his waistband until you’ve got his length completely in your grasp.

He’s hot and hard and thick, and you start stroking him just to gauge the reaction in his face. He doesn’t disappoint, his jaw gaping open slightly, his breaths picking up, a flush rising to the apples of his cheeks.

Without warning, he reaches down and grasps your wrist. You pout, but he asks hastily. “Are we gonna have sex?”

You smirk. “Hell yeah.”

Grayson grins and shakes his head. “Alright, then you gotta stop.”

“Already?” you tease, letting him sit back and hook his fingers in the tiny string of your thong at your hips.

He gives you a look as he pulls the scrap of lace down your legs, then stands to push down his own underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you wish he’d let you blow him some before you hit the main event, but he says, “I’ve wanted you for too long to take any chances about screwing up the first time.”

You melt a little, reaching for him as he climbs back on the bed. “There should be some condoms in the drawer there. Just to be safe after... you know.”

He nods and dips down to kiss you before leaning over to riffle through the top drawer of your nightstand. He comes back with a purple square, which you take from him.

“Gotta practice an activity safely,” you wink, tearing open the condom and rolling it down his shaft quickly.

“Shut up.” Grayson rolls his eyes, but smiles softly as he settles between your legs just right. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, gasping as he starts to sink inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as your walls suck him in and grip him tight.

He goes slow for a couple of minutes, allowing both of you time to adjust to each other. He stretches you out so much better than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you can’t help but clench around him when you see those tattoos and smell his cologne and hear his voice — all things that remind you that this is Grayson fucking you.

He growls the first time you do it, then sits up hastily, pulling his face out of your neck when you do it again. He tucks his knees beneath him, sits on his heels, and hauls your hips into his lap as the speed of his thrusts picks up incrementally. Until he’s fucking you for real, and your tits bounce in your bra with every upstroke.

You shove an arm beneath your pillow, enunciating the curves of your body, and watch his expressions as he fights to hold back. His hair is disheveled, lip caught tight between his teeth and muffling his deep, satisfied sounds that mingle with your open higher-pitched ones. He catches your eye and his hands on your hips grip you so tight for a moment that you’re sure little bruises will be there in the morning — not that you mind.

“Fuck,” he whispers harshly before slowing his hips and shifting down to give you a deep, sloppy kiss. “Turn over.”

You moan into his mouth, then follow his order, rolling onto your front as soon as he pulls out. You expect him to haul your hips up into the air, but he moves your hair off your neck and trails sweet kisses from shoulder to shoulder, his hand sweeping down the subtle curve of your back until he’s gripping your ass.

Grayson’s hand moves down your thigh and pushes it up and out once he’s cupping the back of your knee. The angle encourages you to twist your upper half until you have sight of him once again in all his angled, sweaty, muscular glory.

“Fuck me, baby,” you beg him, already anticipating the fullness inside you again. Needing it.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asks needlessly, pushing into your pussy once again. You moan loudly, either in confirmation or from pure pleasure, it doesn’t matter. The angle is tighter, the tip of his dick hitting a spot so perfectly accurate inside of you that you can’t concentrate on anything other than how good he’s making you feel. “Yeah. So fucking sexy. So beautiful...”

“Gray.. oh fuck yes, right there,” you whimper, catching onto his arm as he leans over you and gives you those hard, steady strokes.

“Open your eyes, baby, lemme see them when you cum,” he growls out.

You open them as much as you can, your vision blurry, but you can still make out those handsome features soaking in the pleasure on your face. Watching and waiting for you to get yours so he can get his.

As soon as you’re clenching like a vice around him, Grayson is letting go into the condom. You can vaguely feel the throb of him as he cums in spurts, the sound of his masculine, drawn-out groans making you shiver and tense up even more on his dick. If it’s possible for anyone to sound as sexy as they look, Grayson achieves that in spades.

He collapses on the bed next to you, and you have just enough strength to roll over until he’s got you gathered in his arms. You nuzzle into his chest and try to process everything. You had been hoping for nice sex today, and instead you got the best sex of your life.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence while you both catch your breath, after he pulls and ties off the condom, you smile into his cooling skin with a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you for making this the best Valentine’s Day of my life. Especially after it was starting to look like the worst.”

“You made this the best day of my life, period,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gray.”

#the relief i have in finishing this lmao #im sorry its a day late this took way more effort than i thought it would #dolan twins #grayson dolan #smut #blurb #g blurb

249 notes · View notes

got-svt · 4 years ago

Text

radio star: a svt social media au

summary: when yn accepts a job at her campus’ radio station her first year in uni, she didn’t expect she’d be anonymously singing stressed out university students to sleep. now, a year and a half in, she didn’t expect that there’d be people trying to figure out her identity either. genre: college au, slice of life, humor, fluff, angst pairing: ??? x f!reader

(masterlist)

warning: please don’t read unless you’ve read/been to part thirty-four !! this is the endgame point so tread cautiously ! but if you have read it or you came from there, then…enjoy;)

part thirty-five: worth it

Wonwoo held his breath, waiting for you to hang up. Maybe you’d tell him goodbye, thank him for being such a good friend and all the advice he had given you these past few weeks. His heart ached at the thought of you rejecting him, but part of him expected it anyways. He should’ve been more forward, more bold in his advances towards you. But he was terrified, the thought of losing you as a friend was much too great a fear for him to risk on something as silly as his emotions. There were multiple moments that he just wanted to tell you, to exclaim to the world that you were the one he wanted, and each time he found himself biting down his tongue — denying himself the simple pleasure of openly expressing his feelings. Wonwoo shut his eyes, it was too late to feel any sort of regret now. Not when he had multiple opportunities to actually make a move.

He was halfway back to the dorms when you called him, his ringtone blasting through what would’ve been a quiet walk home. Wonwoo knew you weren’t feeling okay earlier, he’d spent so much time with you that he could easily read most of the emotions that made its way onto your features — whether it was happiness, anger, or embarrassment, he knew all the clues that suggested a certain emotion. He wanted to prod further into your claim that you were fine, but your years of friendship came with a certain kind of patience and trust, you’d tell him when you were ready and he was more than willing to help you out. He always was.

There weren’t too many people out on the street at that point in the afternoon and he had been lucky enough to spot a nearby bench when he answered your call. Wonwoo immediately knew something was wrong, you didn’t have to say anything the moment he picked up, you wouldn’t have called him everything was truly okay. He sat down, wanting to give you all of his attention, you were going to need it if you were distressed enough to actually call him not even hours after he left your side.

Wonwoo heard your voice, quiet and shaky, and it took everything in him not to run to you then and there. He kept his feet glued on the concrete beneath him, ignoring the twinges of heartache that made its way straight into his chest. It didn’t take him long to realize where you were going with that call, what exactly it was you wanted from him. You were about to make a decision, and you were afraid.

Afraid of how he’d react? Possibly. Wonwoo’s mind went into overdrive at the very thought, were you afraid that you were going to hurt him? Oh no, of course you weren’t going to choose him, he never had a shot anyways.

Wonwoo took a shaky breath of his own, letting cool late afternoon air fill his lungs, he should get it over with now. The sooner this call ended, the sooner he could fall back on his bed and let the pain fully consume him.

“Please don’t think about how we will react to it, at this moment that doesn’t matter. What matters is what you feel. We’re grown ups, we can handle heartbreak. Sure it will hurt, but we can move on. I can’t speak for the others, but I just want you happy. Even if I won’t be the one to bring you that. The only question you need to ask yourself isn’t ‘what about the people I hurt’, it’s ‘who is the one I love?’ ”

His voice lacked the usual confidence it did whenever he gave you advice, but he hoped you wouldn’t notice, he hoped harder that you wouldn’t call him out on it if you did.

Wonwoo waited for your response, seconds stretched into what felt like hours for him. He kept his gaze down on his feet, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill. The sound of your breathing was soft, but he could hear it, you were thinking.

“Wonwoo?”

Your voice startled him, sitting completely upright in shock. There was some hesitation in your voice, like you were wondering if you should even continue speaking. His heart shattered, you were about to break his heart, weren’t you? He sighed, Wonwoo figured that he would have to quickly move things along, rip the band-aid off for both of you.

“Yn, it’s okay, I can handle rejec—”

“It’s you.”

You cut him off before he could even finish speaking, his eyes went wide. This couldn’t be real, this definitely wasn’t real. Has the sky always been this alluring shade of purple and orange? One hand held his phone tighter, the other gripped the edge of the bench, his knuckles almost turning white.

“What?” He sputtered out, surprised at himself for being able to find his own voice.

“It’s always been you.” You breathed out, traces of a smile evident in your words and voice — like you were just now figuring it out too. “You’re the one I love.”

Wonwoo hung up, the flat dial tone ringing in your ear, almost like it was mocking you for confessing. Your breath gets caught in your throat, have you been reading things wrong this entire time?

You sighed, unable to stop the tears that freely fell from your eyes, you didn’t think it would go this way. Well, you didn’t know exactly what to expect so you couldn’t be too mad at yourself, or Wonwoo either. So why did your chest still ache, heart constricting and squeezing as you gasped for any amount of air that you could inhale. Why did you hold onto that tiny sliver of hope for so long, the hope that he could possibly love you back? Did he only really see you as a friend? Was it a mistake even confessing in the first place?

But it was true, he was the one you loved. At the end of the day, at the end of everything that has happened to you in the past few weeks, he’s the one you wanted. It was always Wonwoo, he was the one who stuck by you through everything, who was always on your side no matter what, who took care of you from the sidelines. He was the one who made you feel excited to go to the studio, because you knew he’d be there working with you. He’s the reason you looked forward to walking home in the afternoon, because you spent it walking beside him. He’s the one you could talk to about anything and everything without judgement, maybe some slight teasing, but you knew you could let your walls down around him.

It pained you that he didn’t feel the same.

That he didn’t feel the same rush of emotions that you did. The way heat colored your cheeks whenever your hands would accidentally brush, the giddiness that came with knowing you’d be spending almost an entire day together, the way working never really felt like work because you were around each other and somehow his very presence enough made you feel comfortable and at ease.

But he didn’t feel all that.

Why else would he hang up on you?

Maybe he was freaked out by the suddenness of your confession, you had been friends for so long that it must’ve been difficult for him to see you in any other way. You just wished he told you that he wasn’t interested instead of abruptly hanging up.

A loud knocking on your door interrupted your thoughts, it was rapid, incessant, like the person on the other side of the wall couldn’t possibly wait to be left in. You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, trying your best to make yourself look as presentable as possible for your unexpected guest. You knew there was no point to it though, your eyes were probably puffy, cheeks red, and nose runny.

“Who could this be?” You muttered, angry and annoyed at the disturbance, all you wanted was to have one good cry before you had to face anyone again the following day.

“What?” You called out, opening the door with so much force that for a brief moment you were afraid that you were going to tear your arm off.

To your surprise, Wonwoo was the one at your door. He was bent over, hands on his knees, panting as a thin layer of sweat coated his entire face.

“Did you run over here or something?” Your head was tilted to the side, blinking back wildly at the sight in front of you.

Wonwoo responded by engulfing you in a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you, making you step back a bit at the force of his actions. It didn’t even matter that he was slightly sweaty from what you assume was the run he took to make his way over to your doorstep. Your heartbeat sped up, you were sure that Wonwoo could hear it, feel it even as your body was pressed closely to his.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke, Wonwoo’s lips close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I have been for the longest time.”

You pulled back ever so slightly to look at him, “Then why did you hang up?”

“I would be doing you a disservice if I did it over the phone.” He looked back at you, wiping away the tear streaks still left on your face. You could tell he felt bad about making you cry, you saw it in the way his head was tilted to the side, how his bottom lip jutted out in the smallest of pouts. “I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Is that some sort of jab at me because I told you over the phone?” Your brows furrowed, lightly hitting him in the chest. Of course he teases you not even seconds after confessing his own feelings. You were about to make a teasing retort of your own, mouth parted just as the words were ready to leave your lips, when you heard him chuckle. Light and airy, almost as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. Genuine warmth and happiness radiated off of him, it was infectious and anyone could feel it from miles away.

“I’m just glad you feel the same way.”

“I do.” The furrow in your brows disappeared, the look of fake annoyance turning into one of serenity. Part of you couldn’t believe you had waited this long to tell him, but you knew it was right. All of it was to lead to this very moment. “I’m sorry, it took me so long to realize it.”

Wonwoo smiled the softest of smiles, his gaze on you tender — like you were the only thing possibly worth looking at. A hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb lightly grazing the skin underneath, “It’s okay, you’re worth it.”

Your hand moves on its own, gently resting above his as you melted into his touch. Wonwoo pulled you closer to his chest, placing a small kiss on your forehead before resting his chin on top your head, a content sigh escaping his lips. In that moment you knew: you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were home, and there was nowhere else you would rather be.

wonwoo’s epilogue <33

#radio star svt au

149 notes · View notes

jaegckerman · 4 years ago

Text

Notes in Constellations

~ This fic was inspired by the song of the same name by Chiodos ~ Description: Eren wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought - Mikasa's feelings for him were perfectly clear to him. However, it seemed that everyone around him was very oblivious to how he felt about his best friend... even if he could never let her know. Set in canonverse, leading to a slightly different way more smutty version of Chapter 123, but don't expect a happy ending. Tagging: @kirsteiiins because she's awesome. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7.6K CW: : Smut, I guess?; Angst; Mentions of death and violence; Manga spoilers! Link to AO3

I see her smile in her sleep I know that she's a dreamer I follow every move she makes

If you asked anyone in the Survey Corps, and even before that in the Scouts Regiment, everyone would have told you that Mikasa Ackerman was hopelessly in love with Eren Jaeger… which was too bad, since the boy seemed to have nothing but killing titans on his mind. He was constantly barking at her, taking her kindness for Mikasa simply being annoyingly overbearing, and didn’t shy away from snapping at her for it. Eventually, Armin tentatively came up to him one night and suggested he have a conversation with the girl to let her know that her affections were misplaced. Gently, Armin emphasized, knowing how much it would hurt her and how tactless his best friend tended to be. It made Eren blush furiously; he did run hotter than a normal human being due to his Titan powers, but he could have sworn his whole head was on fire. He was just glad that it was dark outside and his best friend’s keen eye couldn’t make out the color of his cheeks as Eren just hummed noncommittally during Armin’s speech, then scoffed at his words. He stammered something about how Mikasa only saw him as a brother, and changed the subject, with no intention of adhering to the blonde’s advice in any way, shape or form. Neither of them was sure who he was trying to convince.

I know that this is the last thing on your mind, Eren, but what you’re doing is unkind to her and Mikasa deserves better, Eren recalled Armin’s voice as he watched the girl in question, holding back a smile. Levi’s squad was traveling from Trost to the port, and with the railway still a few months away from being completed, they had to go by horse and camp out for the night in a cabin that belonged to Flegel Reeves. They were currently setting the table for dinner, and she was humming absentmindedly before she abruptly stopped and scurried off to the other side of the room… only to return with a bundle of flowers she had picked off the side of the forest path they had traversed early that morning – she was probably the only human on Earth who wasn’t scared of angering Levi; she just hopped off her horse, crouched down, and started plucking flowers from the ground while he snarked at her to stop “farting around” and get going, and Eren had to suppress a chuckle at the scene. He had almost forgotten about his own task of hunting down enough plates and mugs for the entire squad until she looked up at him, probably because she felt him staring. He hurriedly averted his eyes and turned his body back towards the stupidly high cabinet to hide his blush, stretching as he felt around the wooden boards and grabbing what felt like ceramic. With a triumphant little “hah!”, he pulled down a stack of plates and turned around only to find Mikasa watching him; he wondered for a second if he should maybe listen to Armin after all. She quickly shifted her own gaze, her usual stoic mask on, but he had still caught the look on her face just before that, and it was nothing short of… Adoring didn’t do it justice, but his vocabulary was limited when it came to matters of the heart. He suddenly realized just how domestic the scene was, and what that must be doing to her. While she may be as skilled as a hundred soldiers, and damn good at pretty much anything she did, he knew this was a piece of the kind of life she craved the most. Maybe he really was being a selfish, unkind monster in more ways than one.

Because as observant as they were when it came to Mikasa’s feelings for him, what Levi’s Squad never seemed to notice was the way his own heartbeat would pick up whenever she entered the room. They never noticed how his face flushed when her hands brushed his whenever she took pails of water or wooden boards or whatever else he carried from him to alleviate his burden in any way she could. They had no idea that he snapped at her, not because he was annoyed or still jealous of her abilities, but out of concern, since she was always so busy taking care of him and everyone else, she never took proper care of herself. None of them ever seemed to catch his longing stares and, thankfully, no one ever caught him in the dead of night, when his mind was consumed with the fantasies the sight of Mikasa provoked, and he convinced himself it was her hand or her tongue stroking his aching length.

Eren had taken over watch duties with Armin while she fell asleep next to the fire they had built, her need to be close to him overwhelming even her desire for a comfortable resting place. When she didn’t follow Sasha to the cabin and instead shut her eyes right where she was sitting, she had said she wanted to stay because she was cold and didn’t want to leave the heat of the flames. Of course, she never said it was because she wanted to stay with him, because she knew that he would inevitably argue with her, but Eren knew and decided to stay silent. He was so painfully aware that he would not have many more opportunities to see her look peaceful as he snuck glances at her sleeping form while Armin babbled on about something Onyankopon had told him about his home country’s landscape – he didn’t register a word his best friend was saying, and he felt bad, because he was sure it was as interesting and smart as anything Armin has ever said. However, all he could think about was how Mikasa’s sleeping position looked uncomfortable, so he bundled up his coat and made a makeshift bed on the ground for her. She squirmed and her eyes fluttered open for a second when he tried to lay her down gently, but she quickly fell back asleep, with a small smile on her face.

And no one knew just how much his heart ached at the sight, wishing he could give her everything she had always dreamed of, could always give her comfort, and peace and stability and, most importantly, all the love that was threatening to make his heart burst out of his chest. No one knew that he never openly and decisively rejected her, not because he really didn’t believe that she loved him like that, as he always argued when confronted, but because he could not bear the thought of her looking at another man the way she looked at him. He could not, for the life of him, reconcile with the idea that Mikasa, his Mikasa, would shed the mask and be soft and loving and devoted to someone else.

Well, when he turned to look back at Armin, his best friend gave him a smug smile, and maybe one person did know. But still, Armin had no idea how right he had been about Eren being unkind and undeserving… and yet, he couldn’t find it within himself to forgo his selfish desires completely. Not yet.

It's been a long, long night Say you're mine, say you're mine Can I keep you tonight?

He had no idea what had gotten into him. He had never planned on doing this – well, to be fair, he had definitely thought about it, or more like fantasized about how she would tell him that she wanted him, how he would crash his lips against hers, what they would taste like, what she would feel like in his arms, pressed against him…

But he had never planned on the words actually leaving his lips, hoping for an answer that would allow him to cross that line and leave everything behind once and for all. He was so, so tired already, and the fight hadn’t even started yet. And then Mikasa had come to him with her ice cream cone, her eyes shining like they used to when they would play-pretend being Armin’s mom and dad when they were children, and he had tasted the sweet treat that had just been in her mouth, and she had looked so lovely and soft and relaxed for once and… he knew, he could not leave her behind without exploring the possibility, without making completely sure whether his fantasies could actually become reality or not. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he would have the resolve to do what needed to be done with no regrets.

So when she came to find him, crying at the knowledge of what he had to do as he stared at the low light emitting from the refugee camp, knowledge that had been plaguing him for three years, feeling weak and exhausted beyond words, he couldn’t stop the awkward question from tumbling from his lips.

“What am I to you?”

As she blushed and her grey eyes started to shimmer despite the lack of light, he wondered if his own betrayed how much he wanted her to say he was… her everything, her most beloved, wanted her to ask him to follow her to the ends of the world, just the two of them. That she was his, and his alone. And in turn, he would take her hand and lead her away, away from all the war and death and show her that he had always been hers.

We dance around just like constellations You keep my body warm And we dance around just like constellations You're keeping me awake at night You make my body warm

Eren had known earlier that, had they not been interrupted, Mikasa might have elaborated on her answer. She might even have corrected herself, retracted the dreaded f-word that had left her lips, might have told him what he wanted to hear. Maybe she would have added that by “family”, she meant the type of family that husbands and wives made up. Or maybe he would have found the guts and the selfishness to fess up in spite of her answer. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be, and it seemed the path he was on was truly the only one available to him.

He would take what he could get before he began the hardest and last journey of his life, though. He indulged in one last night of fun with his friends and the refugees… The kindest strangers he had ever met, willingly sharing their limited supplies with them, and he knew he would crush them under his feet in just a few months. Thankfully, the liquor they were served helped a great deal in repressing that knowledge, at least for tonight.

And when his teal eyes blinked open sluggishly as he awoke from his drunken slumber, he indulged in the warm feeling of Mikasa pressed close to him. Her alcohol-addled breath came out in hot and steady puffs as it fanned across his cheek. When he turned his face to look at her, her lips were so close to his, and he had to close his eyes and swallow hard at the pain that the sight instilled in his racing heart. He clenched his fists against the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes once again, and an unbidden hiccup spilled from his lips, startling the black-haired beauty beside him awake. Silently, he cursed the lightness of her sleep before he twisted his head away from her.

“Eren…?” she murmured, her hand leaving his lapel to rub at her sleep-crusted eyes. “Are you okay?”

“It’s the middle of the night. Go back to sleep, Mikasa…” he murmured, surprised and perturbed at how hoarse his voice sounded.

“We should go back to our beds. This isn’t good for your back.”

Her warmth from beside him disappeared as she gracefully stood up. He took a deep breath, willing the tears away, and took her outstretched hand to help him to his feet. The moment their hands touched, he felt something like an electric current pass through him, and by the quiet gasp she emitted, he was sure she must have felt it too. He looked down at her face, his eyes boring into hers, feeling and conveying an intensity of emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in since that fateful medal ceremony. Mikasa simply stared back, the silence between them growing heavier, until he broke it with a soft, “c’mon, then,” and led her outside, never letting go of her hand.

And I fall for her, like snow from the sky Gracefully I land in her arms

They arrived in front of the room Kiyomi had organized for Mikasa. They all had plush, comfortable beds, but when she opened the door and turned on the electric lights, he saw the woman had decided to splurge on Mikasa specifically. Her bed was twice as big as his, and the décor looked both cozy and pricey, not almost bare like his room.

“Eren… would you come in for a second?” She looked down at the floor when she asked the question, shuffling her feet nervously. They still hadn’t let go of each other. Ignoring his, once again, racing heartbeat, he nodded and pulled her inside with him. They both sat on the bed and finally disentangled their hands.

“Eren, I’ve noticed, uhm…” She was nervous, and Eren really couldn’t blame her. He had never been the most pleasant person to have serious conversations with, and judging by her behavior, this was definitely going to be a serious conversation. He mentally steeled himself for all the lies he would probably have to tell her.

“What, Mikasa?” His tone was supposed to be harsh, but it came out soft, almost alluring, and seemed to encourage her to continue.

“I’ve noticed how… depressed you’ve been all day. And then, you asked me those questions and… are you sure you’re okay?”

Inhale slowly. Exhale even more slowly. Dig your nails into your palms until you bleed. Hurt yourself, just don’t hurt her, he reminded himself, because really, all he wanted to do was curl up in her lap and cry about how much he just wanted to stop existing, to find a way to escape all the pressure. He wanted to wail and scream about how unfair everything was. Instead, what he said was, “Of course I’m okay, Mikasa.”

He had never been good at repressing his emotions, but over the last three years, he had learned a lot.

“Why did you ask me those questions, though? It was so… unlike you.” She had started fiddling with her fingers, and he could see her cheeks had turned red again. He didn’t answer as he studied her delicate features, because he had no good one; he thought – hoped, really – the interruption would have been it, and she would pretend it never happened.

Suddenly, she turned her head to look him straight in the eyes, and despite the blush still staining her face, determination shone in those onyx irises. “Were you hoping for a different answer? Because I think you know –“

He hushed her with his lips before she could say anything else. He had no idea what came over him, but with the electric current running down his spine once more, with the gasp she emitted, the way she grasped at his shoulders and with how his hands automatically found the sides of her face, tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, taste her sweetness even more intensely, he couldn’t regret it or overthink it.

Just one more piece of heaven before he had to throw himself into hell. Was that too much to ask?

Mikasa suddenly pulled away, her lips swollen and eyes glazed over. “Eren, what – why – I…”

He put a finger to her mouth. “Just for tonight… can’t we just… be?” His eyes were the clearest green, with specks of blue intermingling, a glimmer of hope he thought he had lost forever reflected in them. Mikasa herself studied him with that special look reserved just for him, making his chest swell, and nodded.

So when he leaned in to kiss her once more, they silently decided talking could wait for the next day. Her hands wandered to his hair, longer than she had ever seen it, and pulled a little. A gasp escaped Eren’s lips and she took the opportunity to slide their tongues together, both of them moaning at the sensation. His fingers flew down to her waist to pull her closer as heat began to pool in his abdomen.

Their tongues danced as they fought for dominance, Mikasa’s intoxicating taste overwhelming Eren’s senses. Her hands wandered down from where they were still entangled in his hair to grapple at the buttons of his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders and throwing it… somewhere, neither of them cared. She caressed up and down his back, feeling the muscle ripple below the fabric of his thin shirt. Eren pulled Mikasa’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it lightly, and when a moan wandered from her mouth into his, another spark ran down his spine. He felt himself growing stiffer by the second, and without even thinking about it, he started playing with the buttons on Mikasa’s soft pink shirt, slowly working his way up as he opened them to reveal more of her skin.

“Eren…” she whispered against his mouth, causing him to pull back. Please don’t reject me now, he prayed silently, I need you so much, although what came out of his mouth was, “sorry, I never – is this okay? We can stop anytime…”

Her grey eyes were hooded, and she was almost on top of him, with how much closer he had pulled her, and she was a beautiful sight to behold, her upper body only clad in the pink shirt that had caught at her elbows and her bra, her chest heaving and her skin already flushed. She shook her head. “No, I…”

Suddenly, she was straddling his waist and pushed him down on the bed, shrugging out of her shirt and letting it fall to the floor behind them. “I’ve been wanting this for so long…” She took his hand, which he only now noticed was trembling, and ran it up her defined abs to her covered breast. Her voice was breathy, but her tone determined, when she continued. “Take me.”

Something inside of Eren snapped. With a growl, he pulled her down on top of him and, arms wrapped tightly around her, flipped them over so he was pressing her into the mattress with his entire weight. Their mouths clashed together, all initial insecurity replaced with hunger as they bit and sucked at each other’s lips, licked into each other’s mouths, exploring every millimeter they could reach. Eren’s clothed hips rutted against hers, and the only coherent thought in his mind was more, he needed more.His lips traveled to her neck, and he bit down experimentally, relishing in the moan Mikasa gifted him with.

“Do that again,” she whined, and he was happy to oblige, suckling and biting and eliciting the same response a few more times. He was painfully hard by now, and he moved on instinct when he made his way down her torso, continuing his ministrations. He pulled one of her breasts out of the confines of her bra, and licked over the pebbled, pink nipple.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her back lifting at the new sensation.

“Oh, you like that?” Eren grinned against her sternum as he made his way over to the other side, but her hand against his head stopped him.

“Wait-“ She forced him back on his knees as she sat up and reached behind her back. Eren was confused for a moment, until she pulled her arms free of the bra straps and let the garment join her shirt and his jacket. He was so busy staring at her beautiful chest, wondering if he should resist or succumb to the urge to bury his face in it, he barely registered when she murmured, “You too,” copying his movements from earlier as she unbuttoned his shirt, although she was doing it considerably faster than him. She stared at his newly exposed skin just as unabashedly as he had been looking at her, an expression of pure want etched onto her face.

The sight made Eren unfreeze from his position, pushing Mikasa to lay back down and letting his fingers graze over the soft mounds, not wasting a lot of time before he let his mouth join in. He squeezed and licked and sucked, alternating between each tit and catching the hard nubs between his teeth. He did his best to ignore the way his cock was throbbing, to ignore how badly he just wanted to bury and lose himself inside the gorgeous woman beneath him, how much he wanted to know which sounds of pleasure he could coax from her beautiful, moaning mouth when she was filled with him. Because more than that, he wanted her to enjoy herself. He couldn’t help feeling that, if he could just watch and listen to her come undone, he wouldn’t mind if he never found his own release.

With that thought, he trekked further south, the tip of his tongue tracing the dip in her abs until he reached the waistband of her skirt. He looked up at her for any sign she was uncomfortable after all, but all she did was smile and nod once more. “I said take me, and I meant it,” she panted, and without further ado, Eren pulled down both her skirt and underwear in one swift motion. He kept his eyes on her face, lest he lose all composure, as he rid himself of his own pants and boxers so there would be no more interruptions, no more barriers to overcome. Only then did he allow his eyes to wander.

The sight of strong, collected Mikasa laid bare in front of him did something to him. It wasn’t even just the way she took in his own naked body with so much desire, pupils dilating when they reached his throbbing length like she was starving for him – the knowledge that he was the only one who had ever seen her this vulnerable, the only one she trusted so much she would give herself over to him without a second thought, made him feel like he was on top of the world. It made his eyes sting, and his own appetite reached new heights. He found himself salivating as he pulled her legs over his shoulders and his head dived down to bury his face in the crease of her inner thigh. He peppered kisses up and down and back up before he became overwhelmed with holding back and let the flat of his tongue run up her slit. Her thighs tensed and she cried out, hands flying into his hair much like earlier, and that was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. He licked back down, to where she was dripping, and hardened the tip of his tongue to thrust it inside, pushing and licking in and out of her, relishing in her taste. Mikasa pulled on his hair as another whine left her lips, and he couldn’t hold back the groan escaping his own throat. His cock was literally aching for some friction, but he was sure he wouldn’t last once he was inside her if he touched himself now, so he ignored the urge to stroke himself. Instead, he moved his lips and tongue up a little to lick and suck on the little bundle of nerves above her entrance and let his fingers join in, circling her before he pushed one in slowly. It slipped in easily, her wet heat wrapped around the digit, and his length twitched between his legs, begging to replace it.

“Eren…!” she gasped, her hips starting to move in time with his finger and tongue. “More, please…”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased breathlessly and added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her while he continued to lick and periodically suck on her clit. Her sweet smell and taste and the way she moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders, her legs clenching around him, was slowly chipping away at any semblance of self-control he was hoping to maintain.

“I’m – ah – not – Eren! Oh my God, Eren, I –“ She cried out, her hips lifting and her grip on his shoulders and around his fingers tightening as all the muscles in her body tensed. Eren continued to lick and finger her through her release, until she slumped back down, and her breathing started to slow. He pulled his fingers out of her and locked eyes with her as he lapped them clean off her juices, watching her flush deepen at the lewd action. He moved his body back up, caging her between his elbows and trapping her beneath him once more, and pushed his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself.

“I assume that was good?” he asked in between kisses.

“Unbelievable, but… I still want more,” she confessed, so quietly he almost didn’t catch it. Her calloused hand reached down between them and found his cock, giving it a couple of experimental pumps.

“Don’t,” Eren gasped into her mouth. “I won’t last…”

“That’s okay…” Mikasa started, but Eren didn’t let her finish, ripping her hand off himself and slamming it into the mattress beside her head. He did the same thing with her other hand that sought to replace the touch, and held them there, interlacing their fingers.

“No, it’s not,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. He pressed his forehead against hers, and, with a softer voice, continued, “I want this to be perfect for you.” Their lips locked once again as he rubbed his length over her folds until it caught on her entrance, and he finally pushed inside of her. Green eyes clenched shut at the feeling of Mikasa’s silky warmth enveloping the head of his cock, and her fingers squeezed his hands at the intrusion. She broke their kiss with a drawn-out moan of Eren’s name.

With every ounce of self-restraint that he had left, Eren forced himself to slow down instead of just sinking into her completely in one hard motion, like he so desperately wanted to. He felt the way she sucked him in, inch by inch, to his bones, making him shudder and bury his face in her neck to muffle the pathetic whine he couldn’t hold back. His hips stilled when he finally bottomed out.

“Feels so good,” he choked out. “God, Mika, you’re so tight…”

Mikasa placed a kiss behind his ear and wrapped her legs around his waist. Next thing he knew, she thrust her hips up, making his cock move in her, and making Eren gasp again.

“Fuck me,” she breathed against the shell. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

Something feral awakened in Eren at her words, and much like earlier, he found himself growling as he pulled almost all the way out and thrust himself back in hard. Mikasa cried out and Eren felt her head turn away from him to the other side. “Like that?” he hissed, repeating the motion again and again and pushing her hands and forearms harder into the mattress. He pulled his head up to look at her and their eyes met, hers almost black with desire.

“Yes – yes – make me yours,” she sobbed. He swooped down to catch her lips in a kiss and began fucking into her fast and hard, letting his animalistic side take over. Her soft breasts were crushed against his chest, and he felt her hardened nipples brush against his as he moved inside her wet, silky heat, her walls embracing him like she never wanted to let him go. With every push inside, Mikasa cried out against his open, panting mouth, and he used the sounds he ripped from her throat as fuel to hold on just a little longer, to keep that coil in his abdomen from bursting, knowing that after tonight, he might never get the chance to bring her pleasure ever again. If there had ever been a time to show he had perseverance, he thought, it was now.

Her legs fell from his waist, and Eren took the opportunity to take a hold of the left one and hook it over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what compelled him, but when he was suddenly even deeper inside Mikasa and the woman positively screamed beneath him at the new angle, he knew it had been a good idea. He hooked her other leg over his other shoulder and let his strokes become long and deep, putting as much force behind them as he could.

“Oh God, Eren, yes! Right there, just like that, yes!”

Mikasa was writhing under him, eyes screwed shut and throwing her head from side to side as a string of her sobs and screams tumbled from her lips, echoing through the room. Her breasts were jiggling with every one of Eren’s thrusts, and her hands flew to his chest, nails digging in and scratching down his torso. Tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes as she forced them open to lock with his. Eren was bathed in sweat by this point, both from the exertion of the act and holding back. Just a tiny bit longer, he told himself, even as the heat in his lower body threatened to burn him up from the inside. He let go of one of her legs and let his thumb rub over the bundle of nerves, slick with the same desire that was coating his length.

“Oh, fuck… Eren – Eren!” Mikasa chanted and suddenly, she became even tighter, her walls clenching around him as she wailed his name over and over, sucking him in even deeper, and the dam inside him burst. He shuddered and his skin broke out in goosebumps. Letting his body fall on top of hers, his hips twitched once, twice as he released himself and painted her insides white with his cum, her name like a prayer on his lips.

Mikasa reached up with a trembling hand to stroke his hair. He turned to face her fully and caught her lips with his own. When they broke apart for air, a smile blossomed on her beautiful face. The brightness of it put the rays of sunshine beginning to permeate through the curtains to shame, and he couldn’t help but return it with his own.

They didn’t exchange any words as they reveled in the aftermath of their lovemaking, nor when they got up to get cleaned up. They remained silent, afraid to break the spell, as they climbed back into bed, Eren wrapping Mikasa up in his arms and drawing random patterns into whatever part of her skin he could reach. Eventually, her breathing slowed down, and Eren thought she had succumbed to the exhaustion, until he heard her whisper “I love you” into his skin so quietly, he wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear. And as much as he ached to return the sentiment…

It was easier to pretend he hadn’t.

But I melted away like snow into the ground I told her I've gotta go, I've gotta go

Eren had no idea how he would find the strength to go through with leaving Mikasa behind after last night. She had fallen into a peaceful slumber after their… activities, a flush still on her face and continuing down all the way to her cleavage. Eren, on the other hand, remained restless. He went over everything again in his head – how she had blinked at him lazily, a blissful smile he had never seen from her before curving her mouth upwards, the same mouth that had been singing him praises in the shape of sweet sighs and wanton moans just minutes before, the same mouth from which his name had spilled over and over again in soft cries and literal screams as she came undone beneath him. He pulled her closer, his chest against her back, and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, trying to commit her scent and the feel of her skin against his to his jumbled memory, just in case, but… He couldn’t go.

So now, Eren was hoping against hope that the conference today would go differently from what he had seen. He would not steal away after what Mikasa and he had just shared; how was he supposed to break her heart like that? How would he find the strength to deny both her and himself? How could he accept that he would never have her like this again? Not just her body, but her heart and soul laid bare for him? How could he leave and accept that one day, she might show the same vulnerability to another man? Might gift her heart to someone else? As he stroked over her bare arm, Eren was aware his thoughts were in the very least unfair and selfish, bordering on possessive, and in some ways even sexist, and he would never voice them out loud, but he couldn’t help feeling this way in his weak moments, when his guard was down. Armin was like a brother to him, and he could not stomach the thought of losing him. It was Armin’s dream that inspired him to venture outside the walls in the first place. But Mikasa – no matter what life threw at him, he knew that as long as she was with him, he could survive anything. She was the reason he continued to move forward.

If you want to save Mikasa, and Armin… and everyone else… you have to complete your mission.

The words rang clearly in his ears, like Kruger had just said them to him instead of his father decades ago. It was an unpleasant reminder, and Eren had to restrain himself from yelling back at no one, why me? I just want to be with her. Let me be with her!

Mikasa stirred in his grip and groaned quietly. She jumped slightly at the sight of a tan arm wrapped around her waist, but quickly regained her composure when she remembered what happened last night, and another one of those blissful smiles stretched her cheeks as she turned around in Eren’s strong hold and looked up at him lovingly.

“Good morning,” she whispered and pecked the corner of his mouth. Eren couldn’t hold back the grin blooming on his own face.

“A very good morning indeed.” His hand reached up to stroke over the scar on her cheek, like he could remove the mark if he poured enough love into his touch. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.

“Do you think the others are back yet?” Her fingers traced random patterns against his chest and abdomen. Eren couldn’t suppress the shiver her touch elicited.

“It’s still early, and they were really drunk…” He pushed her on her back and rolled on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as if on autopilot, and her eyes were heavy-lidded not with sleep, but lust. For him, and only him. The thought went both to his head and his hardening length, and he grinded against her. His mouth found her neck, tracing soft kisses up the sensitive area until it reached her ear. “We have time…” he murmured. One of his hands wandered down the expanse of her torso, stopping shortly to squeeze her soft breast and rub at the hardened nub before continuing his trek down south. This time, it was him who coaxed a shiver and a moan from her.

“Eren… Please…” she whined, and the sound sent a pang to his gut. Eren’s long, slender fingers found her folds, already slick with her desire, and he groaned.

“So wet already… Is that what I do to you, princess?” His voice was deep and gravelly. Two of his fingers easily slipped into her, looking for the spot from last night while he rubbed against the swollen nub above her entrance with his palm. Mikasa gasped and started moving her hips in rhythm with his movements. He took in the expression on her face, her furrowed brow, her luscious pink lips slightly open as she panted softly; her cute nose, and the blush spreading over her milky skin; her beautiful eyes, silver with unshed tears…

“More, please…” She begged. “Want you inside me again, please…” Eren’s quip about how he was technically inside her died on his tongue at the desperate look in those glittering irises. It was almost like she knew, he thought as he pulled his fingers out. He felt the same desperation take a hold of him, a different kind of desperation than the hunger they’d already succumbed to. This was about making every second they could steal together count. Just in case, his mind repeated, just in case this was the last time.

His mouth captured hers and he licked at the seam of her lips, begging for entrance, morning breath be damned. Mikasa seemed to think the same thing, tangling her tongue with his in a passionate dance and rutting her hips up against his pelvis in an attempt to get some friction. Never breaking their embrace, she rolled them to their sides, her legs still wrapped around him. Her hand took a hold of his cock and, bringing her hips closer to his, she guided it to her entrance and thrust down until he was fully sheathed inside of her.

They moaned against each other’s mouths, breaking the kiss. Their lips remained touching as they opened their eyes. Eren’s emerald irises locked with Mikasa’s silver ones, and he began to move, thrusting languidly and watching even the tiniest twitch in her facial muscles as a symphony of her moans broke through the silence of the room, accompanied by his own heavy breathing.

Remembering the effect from last night, Eren moved his hand down to the leg he could reach, and hiked it up a little. It seemed to do the trick as Mikasa’s lids screwed shut and she threw her head back with a cry. He took in the way her long, thick eyelashes rested against her cheeks, and his arm wrapped around her back to bring her even closer, crushing her against him. He could feel the goosebumps on her skin, every knob on her spine as he caressed it, her wetness spreading over his pelvis as she rubbed against it with every push. Despite the desperation they both felt, they were unhurried, taking their time to savor each touch. And he committed all to his memory, certain that even after he died, the memories and the feeling of it wouldn’t.

When she came in his arms, it wasn’t with the same screams as last night – this time, she cried out his name softly, her face buried in his neck as she tensed up, her walls milking his own release from him once again, making him groan and shudder in turn before they gradually relaxed in each other’s hold. She leaned in for a short, sweet kiss before they continued to just stare at each other, drinking each other in. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, and she nuzzled into it, giving it a peck, eliciting an adoring smile from the green-eyed man.

Suddenly, they heard voices pass by Mikasa’s room and a knock on her door.

“Mikasa? Are you in there?” It was Hange. Eren hid his face in Mikasa’s neck and groaned quietly, this time out of frustration. Then, he had an idea, and with a smirk, he began to give the skin little kitten licks, making the girl squirm and giggle.

“Yes, Hange,” she called back, trying to sound normal, “but please don’t come in right now, I just got out of the shower and I’m not decent.”

The doorhandle was halfway down already, the door almost creaking open, but at Mikasa’s request, Hange let go and left it closed.

“Alright, just… meet us in the kitchen in 15 minutes, okay?”

“Okay!” Mikasa called back.

“You too, Eren!” With that, they heard Hange’s footsteps retreat.

The pair looked at each other with wide eyes. Maybe 15 minutes would have been enough to enjoy each other’s closeness some more, maybe even go for another round, but with the knowledge that Hange somehow knew, they scrambled up to clean themselves up and get dressed as quickly as possible. Mikasa left a couple of minutes ahead of Eren, so as not to make anyone else suspicious, and when Eren joined the squad a few minutes later, no one seemed to give them any strange looks or made any comments. It seemed like, thankfully, Hange hadn’t told anyone, and they made sure to keep some distance between them so as not to rouse any suspicions. Mikasa sat next to a groaning Sasha for breakfast, who was grabbing her head but still shoving copious amounts food into her mouth, and he sat with Levi and Armin as they went over his security for today’s outing.

When they arrived at the lecture hall later, they still left a couple of spaces between them. As Eren listened to a man’s impassioned speech about Eldian rights, which explicitly excluded him and his “island devil” friends, he was both glad for the distance and felt hollow at the same time.

But somehow, he had always known that the kind of life he wanted for Mikasa and himself, the life she had been dreaming about since they were naïve children, was never meant to be. Maybe that was why he had been dragging his feet and had never confessed to her how he felt. Maybe he wasn’t even supposed to have last night or this morning. But he could use it to strengthen his resolve – because, his strongest and perhaps most selfish desire, was for Mikasa to live a long and happy life, regardless of what role he got to play in it.

And so, he fought the magnetic pull begging him to stay by her side, and quietly left to fulfill the mission he had been given long before he was even born.

It's been a long, long night You said you were mine I felt so bad but I had to go No she never wanted me to leave her behind No she never wanted me to leave her

“I want to share your burden.”

Mikasa’s voice echoed in his head. Even after telling her she was a slave and that he had hated her forever, beating up Armin, not to mention the people he killed in Liberio, Sasha… And now, he was literally trying to kill every living being in the world besides the residents of Paradise.

He thought that maybe, at least that night they had shared, and his subsequent disappearance, might have stirred up some resentment in her. The war wasn’t personal, so he could see how she might be able to justify his actions, but that… had been deeply personal. He had basically taken her heart and stomped on it until it was dust, just like the titans under his control were flattening the earth. He tried to make her believe he had only used her body, and that the only passion he had for her was anger and disgust, his own heart threatening to pound out of its cage with how loudly it was screaming at him for the obvious lie. But her devotion to him… her love for him knew no bounds. It transcended time and space and circumstance. It was the only constant he had left, the only thing that still made sense to his muddled mind. It was as certain as the rise of the moon and the sun and the stars, as the ebb and flow of the sea.

Just as certain as his untimely demise.

Here she was, still offering her unwavering support. She acknowledged all the worst parts of him, all the cruelty and the stench of death, and still loved him. After everything, still, still, all she dreamed of was a quiet, peaceful life by his side, and if she couldn’t get the quiet and peaceful part, she would settle for him simply being there. And although every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he wanted the same, it was too late, and he had to let her go. He had to make her let him go.

But would it be so bad to make her happy one last time before he did? This was literally his last chance to be honest with her. And was it so bad that he wanted to defy his cruel fate and feel happy, be free at least one more time, before he succumbed to it?

Eren looked to the side at the small blonde girl, and she nodded, allowing him to use her powers to give into his selfishness before his final moments.

Suddenly, he was transported back to that night, to their conversation in the dim lights of the refugee camp, and he let them live in the reality of what might have been had her answer been slightly different, had there been no interruptions, had he finally taken her hand and just given in and followed her into her dream.

So long, so long, And we dance around just like constellations We dance around just like constellations We dance around, we dance around, You make my body warm, You make my body warm.

#eremika #eren x mikasa #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #mikasa ackerman #eremika fic #cw: smut #cw: death #cw: violence #bee's fics #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin

105 notes · View notes

mochii0park · 3 years ago

Text

meraki; chapter 01 I jhs

Title: Meraki

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Jin x Reader

Part of series: Waterlilies and Japanese Bridge

Genre: angst I fluff

Pairing: literaryscout!hoseok x writer!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Throughout your whole life you lived in your sister’s shadow, watching from side-lines as she formed herself into a successful businesswoman with an envying life. Never being able to fill her shoes you gradually understood the meaning of an estranged family and the burden it carried. The twenties began slowly slipping from your grasp which had been embedded with insecurities and longing for fulfilment. Pouring your heart out to strangers with a pseudonym meraki, you began second guessing the decision when an email lands in your inbox.

Author's note: unedited, it's 2am I'll reread it tomorrow

Taglist: if you want to be added to the taglist message me

@namsope32 , @cuteipat , @ofvopemin

Masterlist

Meraki masterlist

< intro | chapter 02 >

Seokjin got engaged and moved to the USA.

Your lanky fingers hover over the keyboard, the reality of the situation still lingering in the air. The send button felt heavy, as if the action would make a shift in your universe. You have already made mends with how things were going between you, but it still felt crushing.

Sucking up the little pride you had left after lying to your friend, you push the button and lock the phone hoping to gain some sanity in your walk back to the apartment. It had been a regular night out with your friends. Coffee chitchat alongside freshly baked cookies which you got as an apology for being late.

Your mutual friends felt the need to notify you of the sudden change in Seojkin’s life, wanting you to hear it from them first. Pushing it to the back of your mind as nothing but an additional fact, you continue through the night with a smile. That lasted until you the rounder the corner.

Seokjin had been your friend through university and even later as you grew up and struggled to make ends meet. You had been there for him when his girlfriend of five years decided to dump his ass having a shift in her feelings towards him. You mended his heart through late night talks and rides across the city. He was your kiss partner after breakups, picking up your self-esteem and gluing it together. In conclusion, Seokjin was your everything. If only the feeling was mutual.

Days before deciding to confess to him, he blasts your phone with messages about a girl that pulled all the strings in his heart and awoke oceans of memories. Kim Jisoo was his high-school crush with whom he lost contact after entering his last relationship. Reconciling through social media the two hit off where they last left it and suddenly you became the dust under his shoes.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months of not seeing him. With a deeply rooted pain in your chest and a jealousy for the new girl in his life you stepped down allowing Jisoo to consume his being. Afterall who were you than a mere friend, easily replaceable.

The last slap came when you drunkenly confessed, having enough of their roller coaster like relationship. That was the last time you’ve heard of Seokjin’s teary-eyed voice telling you goodbye over the phone. No matter how many times he told you this sounded like the end and the suffering he felt was unbearable; it was nothing compared to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces.

Sehun told you many times that the timing was so off it made him uncomfortable, but that’s the thing about you and Seokjin. Everything was off with the two of you. From kisses to cuddles to nudes after midnight to serious conversations about pineapple pizza. Friends don’t do that, is what you kept telling yourself when the feelings for him slowly grew from platonic to romantic.

In midst of your thoughts your phone rang. Sehun the attachment dealer flashed across your phone. Giggling at the memory of how the nickname came to be, a warm feeling nest itself inside your chest. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I left the Howl Cafe, I’m near home.”

He hums, the sound of the blinker echoing in the distance. “I’m there in five. Meet me at the bus station at beginning of your street.”

There were instances when disobeying Sehun felt like the biggest thrill of your life but right now when feelings you couldn’t pinpoint ran through you clouding your judgement, Sehun felt like a silver lining. As you wait for him to arrive, you can’t help but scroll through your phone in search for that one picture of Seokjin.

The only one you’ve saved after your last conversation. He was leaning against the wall of the bakery, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. His bleached hair fell over his rimmed glasses giving him an emo vibe. It was somewhere around three am when you’ve taken this photo.

Both of you exhausted from running aimlessly around the city. He begged you to visit this bakery at the top of a hill, assuring you about the quality of their goods. You remember that night vividly, how you would steal a kiss or two in the shadows hiding from the reality. How he would woo you with his terrible French accent and you would answer him in your broken German.

You miss him. You miss him to the point where it physically hurt.

Sehun honks ever so caring about the people sleeping peacefully in their homes. He bursts into laughter at your jumpy reaction making you feel annoyed as you lock your phone. Settling yourself in his car you wait for his I told you so, but it never comes. Instead, he turns on his Spotify playlist clicking on Olivia Rodrigo’s good 4 u blasting it a such high volume all thoughts you had were overridden with the upbeat song.

Sehun had been your friend for the same amount Seokjin was. The two knew each other through a few short encounters, for some reason they never crossed paths for longer than ten minutes. For that you were thankful. The song comes to a finish and Sehun observes you from his seat. The lights of the city painted on the window illuminated your face, giving him a prefect view of your perplexed expression.

“How are you feeling?”

You knew he would ask this question, after all the sole reason you were driving on a highway was because of your damped mood but in whole honesty you didn’t know the answer.

“A part of me had expected it. He talked about marrying her, but he also talked about wanting to drop everything and own a cottage in Sweden.”

“Your taste in men is terrible. Remember Mark? The guy who had so many career goals but couldn’t leave his house because he thought having a life outside work was overly distracting for his oh so important career as IT support at ZARA? Or Mino who was so high you couldn’t recognise him when he dropped the weed after your breakup.” Sehun snorts.

You roll your eyes at him. Surely your boyfriend track wasn’t the best but it’s not like you seek out boys with issues, it seems that they attach themselves to you and you can’t get rid of them without a major heartbreak. “Whatever.”

Sehun stretches forward pulling your favourite chocolate bar out of the compartment, throwing it in your lap. You smile, munching on it as you switch the song to Zayn and Sia’s Dusk Till Dawn.

“I just expected him to inform me.”

Sehun shakes his head. “I am not sure why you expected that. You two haven’t shared one conversation in two months. You’ve asked for space when he told you he can’t choose between you and Jisoo. Plus, that was a dick move to be honest making him choose between his girlfriend and his best friend.”

“Space,” you emphasise,” not utter silence. He didn’t move two fucking blocks Sehun. He moved to a whole fucking country without telling a soul. Our mutual friend finds out through an Instagram story. Fucking Instagram. And I don’t care, he was a dick that started this charade might as well end it.”

By now you were fully shouting, the tears that threatened to spill before now rushing down your face. In this moment you didn’t care much about Sehun’s awkwardness regarding tears and crying, that was pushed aside when he backed Seokjin’s decision and pissed all over yours.

“Y/N,” he whispers, turning down the volume as you whimper, “there is not much you can do. You must respect his decision. You can’t force someone to love you.”

It was your turn to huff at the stupidity of his words. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go about kissing people. Respect decision? Fuck that. Did he respect me when he made a fool out of me?

“No.”

Sehun exhales knowing that in this case you weren’t in the right mind to have a rational conversation. Seokjin was your weak point, he knew that much. Your emotions began to pour out, leaving you a sobbing mess in his car.

“Look, I can’t stop you from having all sort of emotions for him. I can only advice you to turn off your phone for tonight and give yourself time to process the information before doing anything you might regret.”

“I won’t blast his phone with insulting messages if that’s what you think.”

“Good, also don’t eat out your emotions. You can’t stand too much sugar in your system.”

“Thanks doctor. I’ll just write out my emotions instead.” You say leaning into the seat, closing your eyes as you listen to the music.

“You still write on that blog?” You can hear some amazement in Sehun’s voice, and you know it’s not to mock you but to praise you for managing to stay faithful to one thing this long. You had a reputation for giving up on things in early stages because you couldn’t finish them perfectly.

The rest of the ride was spent with you eating out your emotions with the food Sehun bought from your local fast-food restaurant. Not much was said between you and him as he drove into the night letting you process the whole situation, only dropping you off at home when you felt yourself calming down.

Once in the confides of your room you strip yourself of any pent-up emotions letting all the pallet of different feelings overran you. Taking a pen, you let your heart pour into endless words scribbled away in your notebook. When you’ve felt empty the high gone, you take your laptop opening the site you’ve a long time member of. It came to you on Instagram in a form of a poorly done advertisement. It was a website for people wanting to share their poetry with strangers.

At first, you’ve done what you always do: began self-doubting your poems and their worth. Most of them were written in a spur of a moment when you felt like you would burst from the number of things you felt. But one night, when sleep couldn’t come to you and the pain of losing the person you held dear lingered in the air threatening to choke you; you signed in posting your work. It was raw and you suddenly felt exposed and naked in front of the world.

That’s how Meraki came to be. How your pseudonym became your shield, allowing you to burden it with any thought or emotion you’ve felt. In the online world Meraki was a fierce writer, letting her readers know of the pain and suffering she felt. In real world Meraki was an introverted person hiding herself from anyone willing to come close.

____

It was a hot Wednesday morning when you’ve gotten an e-mail from your sister informing you of her whereabouts. Due to your mother’s work preventing her from traveling, she decided to pay you a visit instead; much to your delight. The days to her wedding were numbered and so was your sanity.

Luckily for you she and her fiancée decided to stay with your parents.

The thought of her roaming the halls of the only place you’ve managed to cover in comfort was disturbing you. It wasn’t that you hated your sister but although you’ve dealt with your own insecurities some parts of the trauma still hung over you.

You’ve managed to avoid her for a good number of days since she landed in Seoul but now a week later you ran out of excuses. That’s how you found yourself sitting in a posh sea food restaurant, juggling your anxiety during the family dinner.

The last time you saw your whole family was at your grandfather’s birthday (which happened six months ago). The event left a bad taste in your mouth after you’ve spent majority of time listening to your sister’ success only receiving attention when she addressed you.

Solar and her fiancée Minho discussed the menu as they skimmed through different meals. You have been so busy staring at one spot that you’ve never noticed the waiter taking orders.

“Y/N?” Solar spoke catching your attention.

“One chicken fillet for me please.” You were so preoccupied with different thoughts you never saw what they had to offer therefore you went with your go-to food.

The moment the waiter leaves the table with the menus, your mother scoffs. “Aish you’re eating chicken again, we’re in an exclusive sea food restaurant and you’re embarrassing us. “

“Mother, let her eat what she wants.” Solar interrupted your mother’s complaining, switching the topic to her wedding dress. Your mother beamed at the photos she showed her.

It was somehow sad how much power Solar had over your parents. One word was enough to ease them into doing whatever she liked whilst you had to beg and crawl your way and even then, you were no match for her.

You felt severely out of the place. The two talking about preparations while your father and Minho gushed over their new apartment in Tokyo. You sat there in your chair counting down minutes until you could leave. Any other day you wouldn’t bother to attend the dinner but now Solar insisted you showed up. Something about the sight of her family warming her heart, bunch of bullshit.

“How are you doing Y/N?” She asks ignoring your mother as she mumbles under her breath about your bad habits, one being smoking.

You took up smoking in your last year of university when the pressure of getting a master’s degree and balancing your parents had been too much to take in. A lot of your friends decided to find comfort in weed, but you never understood the thrill of it. Rather than spending enormous amounts for just one puff, you could buy a pack of cigarettes and still have money left for some booze.

“Not much, same old same old.” You answered pushing your nervousness away.

There wasn’t much happening in your life. You’ve started a job in a bookstore and spent your free time either with Sehun or Jihyo.

“How’s Seokjin?”

That one question had caught the table’s attention and suddenly you felt a terrible need to smoke one. Your families were acquainted through work, your fathers working together on a project. They had been shocked when they discovered that you and Seokjin had been close friends for a long time.

“He’s fine.”

“I heard he got engaged,” Your mother spoke up,” to Kim’s daughter Jisoo. Ah what a wonderful being that one is.”

“Oh?” Solar gave your mother a perplexed look narrowing her head at you. You played with the glass in front of you, the object suddenly becoming interesting.

“I thought you and he were dating.” Minho joined, telling the words that were stuck on the tip of your sister’s tongue.

“Y/N and Seokjin? Don’t make me laugh. They are worlds apart. Seokjin is so focused on his career while our Y/N thinks writing will make her a fortune.”

Taking a sip of water, you try your best to wash away the nasty words threatening to leave your mouth. Your parents never approved of your career choice not that you even cared about their opinion.

Solar hums pulling her lips into a straight line. “I’ve must’ve mistaken then. I was sure I saw you-“

“Here is your food.”

And that’s how you were saved from the embarrassment of having to explain to your sister that what she saw was imagination playing tricks on her and not you and Jin making out in front of your house. It was awkward enough when she pestered you about it the next day.

The conversation takes on a different dynamic and you breathe out in relief. You were still trying to process the news and talking about him wasn’t helping your soul. You gather yourself before your façade could fall and mask it with a stoic expression continuing your countdown till desert when Sehun would call you for an “emergency”.

Right on time you think as your phone began to ring.

You pretend to gasp covering your mouth to show concern as Sehun sputtered nonsense. He kept talking about his trip to the gym and how his feet hurt from all the exercise he did while you tried not to show disgust as explained in detail how hit his little finger against a metal device . Solar shot you a worried look as you excused yourself from the table.

“And the award for the best actress goes out to Y/L Y/N” Sehun pitches once you close the door of the restaurant. Shooting a quick apology message to Solar, you jump into his car deJa’vu hitting you.

“I should get paid for spending so much time with you.” Sehun dripped in sweat, his black shirt sticking moistly to his body, hair pushed back.

You shrugged falling into a comfortable silence. Half an hour later he stops at the number 13, the windows of your house distinguishable by the large number of flowers catching last rays of Sun before the night settles.

“That will be 100 won and a Mcdonald’s later when you’re free.”

“Yeah, not happening” you tell Sehun, already halfway out of the car, rucksack slipping from your shoulder.

He raises a brow at you.” I am not your personal driver Y/N. I had to leave my girlfriend to drive you back.”

You scoff as you roll your eyes at him.” I’ve told you to call me for an emergency. There was no picking up included.”

He mimics your words mockingly before pressing the gas pedal leaving you behind him. Unlocking your apartment door, you’re greeted with your dog sleeping in the hallway not giving you a second glance as you pass over him. Haku’s snores echo through the empty apartment warming your heart. The Shiba became your companion two years ago when you were going through a rough patch. It took some time for you to get used to each other but now you couldn’t image not having his snot buried into your business.

Turning on the lights you sit at the kitchen table pulling your leg up to rest your head on the knee. Opening your laptop, you see a few notifications popping up on the sideline about your recent orders. Just when you were about to close the notification center you see one mail standing out. The name Jung Hoseok makes you jolt in your seat.

Dear writer aka meraki,

I hope this e-mail find you well. My name is Jung Hoseok, I’m the CEO of ZER Publishing company. I’ve taken interest in your poetry and would like to have a meeting to discuss a possible collaboration between us.

Kind regards,

Jung Hoseok

The scream that came from you couldn’t possibly be human. Closing the laptop as if it will burn you, you throw it on the sofa choosing to avoid it until tomorrow.

You didn’t know how he found you giving that any personal information on the site was strictly private. Pacing back and forward you facetimed Sehun. He picks up after three very long rings making your heart beat erratically against your chest.

“I swear to God if this is another one of your emergency calls.” Sehun stands there in nothing but a towel hugging his waist. He moves to the other side of the bathroom, bare feet pacing against the marble floor.

“I got an e-mail.”

He curses, his voice muffled from the towel pressed against his face. ” You called me to tell me about a mail?”

“Not any mail, Sehun. I was contacted by Jung Hoseok.” You whisper still walking back and forward, Haku following every step of yours. Sehun tries not to pay close attention to you, getting slowly dizzy from all the commotion.

“And something tells me I should know who that is?”

You halt taking a moment to stop yourself from starting a conversation about common knowledge again, it was a sour subject. “He messaged through the mail used for Meraki.”

This time Sehun is quite for a few seconds taking in your words. You don’t see him, but you can hear deodorant spray and shuffle of clothes. “How? Isn’t that private?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly the anxious feeling was back. The poems you wrote there were strictly private, the mention of your love life and your hardships with your family were never meant to be linked back to you. You’ve checked the websites policy not wanting anyone to associate you with the account. If that were to happen you can immediately start packing your things to move to another continent.

“I am sure he didn’t hack it; nobody is that desperate. Maybe he contacted the website owner?” Sehun takes his phone, hair freshly washed strands falling over his face. He moves from the bathroom to the kitchen placing you carefully , so you could see the whole room.

You think for a second, there was a possibility. “Isn’t that a violation of my privacy?”

“I can try to read out the rights and policy. Come up with a text signed as your lawyer but Y/N” Sehun’s voice is soft, something he did to calm you down. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes having an internal battle, the look you’ve seen on him in rare moments.

“Yes?”

“I am sure if you refuse, he won’t bother you. I am also sure you don’t have much to lose if you agree.”

____

Hoseok was on his fifth coffee by noon, deprived of any sleep last night. He was starved for a good literature piece that would leave him in myriad emotions. Sadly, he came up with an empty line. He spent his days cocooned in the corner of Suho’s café reading page by page poetry that awoke no emotion except irritation. He was on the brink of losing his mind.

Suho slides into the booth, careful not to startle Hoseok.” Have you found anything?”

Hoseok ruffles his hair before resting his head in his hands. He was desperate enough to visit fanfiction sites in hopes of stumbling upon work that had the spark.

“Maybe you should take a break? Visit those open mic nights where people recite their poems?”

Hoseok shakes his head having already used that option last week. “I’ve been to three mic nights and not one was interesting. I am on a verge leaving everything behind to become a stripper. Yoongi did say I have an amazing body."

Sehun by now used to his friend’s dramatic antics shrugs his shoulder.” You should really take a break. You’ve been searching for a month now.”

Hoseok wished he could take a break, but the existence of his firm lay in his hands. That enough gave him tremendous worry pushing him way above his limits.

“I know but if I don’t find a good piece in a month, I can close the firm. Do you know what that means? Hundreds of people losing their job.” Hoseok wasn’t the one to crumble under pressure but now he felt like crying. Suho offered him a smile he’s seen before, the pity smile. Patting his shoulder he gets up at the sound of doors opening ,customers swarming in.

At the end of the day Hoseok thinks everything has turned against him. His laptop dies in the middle of reading, and he discovers he forgot his charger at home. In all the despair and anger he accidentally knocks over the mug spilling coffee over important documents and his newly bought jeans. The stain will probably leave a small burn that he wasn’t ready to face today. He’ll take care of it tomorrow.

On the side Suho observes his restless friend. He felt bad for not being able to help him more, but he already used all his resources and sent them anonymously to his mail only for Hoseok to turn it down.

Sehun walks into the café with his gym in one hand and candy in the other, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He was waiting for a call from Y/N, prepared to jump into his car at any second. He greets Suho, his sight landing on an exhausted Hoseok bumping his head repeatedly against the table lightly. He hoped to never reach this point of insanity.

“What’s his problem?”

Suho follows Sehun’s line of sight. Hoseok sits in the booth, forehead rested against the table. Both his mind and body were tired, and the clock was ticking. “He needs to find a good poetry piece to publish otherwise he’s toast.”

In that moment Sehun weights his options. He knew how self-conscious you were about your work thinking it lacked emotion and quality and this seemed like a good opportunity to prove you otherwise. On the other hand, there was the issue with people closely linked with your poems. He takes his time picking between different sugars, steering the coffee slow enough to buy him at least one more minute.

Pushing the bills to Suho he takes a sip. “There is a website called Nora, it had lots of good poetry. I've read some.”

Suho nods following Sehun out of the café promising to deliver the message to Hoseok. Once locked up he slides back into the booth watching Hoseok pack his belongings ready to call it a day. “This costumer told me about Nora site. You should give a shot.”

“Nora?” Hoseok mocks, he heard of all the websites used for writing but Nora didn’t ring a bell.

“I think it’s new. I’ve never heard of it but he seemed sure of his words. The worst that can happen is he lied and knowing Sehun that’s unlikely.”

Hoseok nods eager to go back home to his cat Nobus and prepare himself a warm bath to release the tension built up in his muscles. Waving goodbye to Sehun, he exits the shop from the back door and turns on the engine of his car driving away to the beat of classical music easing him.

Entering his small apartment located in the centre of Seoul, he throws his shoes to the side not bothering for order tonight. Slouching himself on the couch he pets Nobus, the cat bumping his head against his arm purring softly. With eyelids half closed he opens the website on his phone, picking poetry as his preferred category.

Selecting a random writer he opens the first poem, eyes scanning the text.

I love you like the habit I picked up in college of sleeping through lectures or saying I’m sorry when I get stopped for speeding because I drink a glass of water in the morning and chain-smoke cigarettes all through the day because I take my coffee Black and my milk with chocolate because you keep my feet warm though my life a mess I love you because deep down I know you'll never be mine again (author of the poem: Nikki Giovanni, I added three last sentences)*

With every word that Hoseok took in he felt himself back in university, all drunk on the idea of loving the girl that sat two seats in front of him during microeconomics. He relives the ecstasy of having love running through his veins, he feels the desire under his fingertips for just one touch, he crumbles at the pain of finding her kissing his best friend. Hoseok feels like his heart had been ripped apart with just few simple letters placed in a neat poem.

He sees the words meraki scribbled in a messy handwriting under the poem and he feels as if his prayers have been answered.

45 notes · View notes

discoscoob · 4 years ago

Text

Love’s Labours Won | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

The TARDIS arrives in The Dark Ages where the Doctor tries to solve a mystery involving witchcraft. During your stay your relationship with Loki begins to develop due to a mix of a Shakespeare, jealousy and one bed.

Part Three | Part Five | Chapter Index

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: unwanted advances, mild homophobia, death: very minor characters, jealous Loki, swearing, angst, fluff and then more angst

Read on AO3

You were sat crossed legged in front of your floor length mirror, applying eyeliner when the whole room began jerking, which caused your hand to slip and left a long black line smudged over or eyelid.

You huffed in annoyance, as you pulled out a makeup wipe and began cleaning up the mistake, you decided that there was no point in attempting to try again as the whole TARDIS continued to quiver.

You climbed to your feet, still wiping your eye, as you stormed out of your bedroom with half your sight blocked by your makeup wipe. You failed to see Loki walking down the corridor at the exact same time and with the help of the turbulence, Loki lost his balance and stumbled into you, sending you both crashing into the wall.

“Good morning.” You greeted Loki, almost sounding out of breath from the shock of your back impacting with the wall. His face was mere inches from yours, as you were trapped against the wall between both his arms, unlike the last time you found yourself in this position with the God, it was purely accidental this time.

From the proximity you realised that today a light citrusy and floral scent surrounded him and from what you could see, he was wearing a solid black suit with a matching shirt and tie. The outfit made him appear even more powerful and intimidating than he usually did and despite the fact you were meant to be trying to push away any desires you had towards the God, your mind was encouraging you to just lean forward those last few inches and close the gaps between your lips.

Before you could follow your own minds advice, Loki awkwardly cleared his throat as he took a step back away from you, while straightening out his suit jacket.

“Good morning.” He repeated.

You both continued your way towards the control room, occasionally bracing yourself against the walls whenever you felt as though you were about to lose balance.

“Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?” You asked the Doctor, who was literally sprawled across the console, with his foot pushing a leaver, while his arm stretched out to the opposite side to turn a dial.

Donna was clinging onto the rail for dear life, while you and Loki attempted to reach her side without falling flat on your backsides.

“Yes, and I failed.” The Doctor distractedly answered.

“I can tell.” You replied, as the TARDIS jerked to an abrupt stop, you instinctively grabbed onto Loki’s arm to steady yourself and he put his own hand under your elbow to ensure you were stable.

Behind Loki’s shoulder you saw Donna watching you and the God closely, you could tell that she still didn’t trust Loki. Feeling conscious of her stare you mumbled a quick thanks towards Loki before you extended the distance between the two of you, while the Doctor ran to the doors of the TARDIS.

“Beyond this door lies a brave new world.” He announced with his back against the TARDIS doors, enthusiastic as ever.

“I’m up for anything, as long as there aren’t any volcano’s and none of us get possessed.” Donna seemed happily pleased.

“Oh Donna, the chances of that are low but never zero.” The Doctor cheekily smiled, before he turned on his heel causing the tail of his long brown trench coat to fan out behind him as he ran out the door. “Come on!”

When you stepped out of the TARDIS behind Donna, the first thing you noticed was that it was night but still humid, leading you to believe it was summertime and you noticed that you were surrounded by other humans which lead you to the conclusion that you were still on Earth.

The sound of horses hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the lively street, the attire of the people who occupied it and the medieval architecture of the buildings which aligned it all informed you that you had travelled backwards in time.

If you required further more indication, the foul waste which came pouring from the sky, barely missing you before Loki pulled you back, was the final confirmation you needed. You could hardly hold back the gag that threatened to rise at the back of your throat.

“We’ve arrived somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Good to know.” The Doctor commented.

“Listen, I’m all for time travel yeah, but that’s disgusting. I’m gonna nip to the loo on the TARDIS before we explore, I don’t wanna end up shitting in a bucket.” Donna announced before she retreated back inside the blue box, the door squeaked shut behind her.

“I always knew you were a primitive species but that is truly a testament to how far you have come in your short lives, it is positively awe-inspiring.” Loki remarked and you glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as you tried to decipher whether to be offended or take it as a compliment.

“So, this is London?” You eventually asked the Doctor, while you all waited for your auntie outside the TARDIS.

“Think so,” the Doctor let his eyes wander over the street, “round about, ooh... 1599. If I’m right, we’re just down the river, by Southwark, right next to the Globe Theatre, brand new, just opened! Though strictly speaking, it’s not a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, because of its 14 sides.”

“What’s that?” Donna asked, after stepping back outside the TARDIS, having caught just the end of the Doctors sentence.

“I was just saying, the Globe Theatre isn’t technically a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, it has 14 sides.” The Doctor repeated to Donna, who pulled a face.

“You’re always so pedantic,” Donna shook her head. “Why would they ever call it the Tetra-thingy Theatre?”

“Tetradecagon.” The Doctor corrected.

“See, pedantic.” Donna pointed out, and the Doctor looked insulted.

“As I was saying,” the Doctor returned to his original point while he glared at Donna, “the man himself should be there tonight.”

“Shakespeare?” Loki’s interest peaked.

“You know who Shakespeare is?” Your eyebrows lifted with surprise as you turned to Loki.

“Believe it or not, unlike everyone on Earth, we aren’t sheltered on Asgard. What can you tell me of the Nine Realms?” Loki paused to give you a chance to answer, but your lips remained sealed as your eyes bounced around in thought. “That’s what I thought.”

***

The Doctor had lead the way to the Globe Theatre and managed to sneak all four of you inside with the use a wallet, containing a blank piece of paper, which he had explained was called psychic paper. It allowed the person who looked upon it, to see whatever the Doctor presented it as, when he had said it was tickets to the performance you were let in without any bother.

Inside the theatre was filled to the brim, the four of you were cramped near the back of the stalls. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, unfortunately deodorant and other essential hygiene products weren’t invented yet but since you were stood by Loki’s side his delicious and fresh scent performed as a buffer over the foul odour and you found yourself almost snuggling into his chest as the play went on.

Once all the cast were bowing at the end of the performance, the crowd began chanting ‘author’ commanding that Shakespeare himself make an appearance on stage.

With his arms raised above his head and a flamboyant skip, William Shakespeare entered the stage and the cheers, whistles and applause grew even louder. He blew kisses toward the crowd, as he confidently walked back and forth across the stage, occasionally he leant down to brush the hands of the audience members below, who desperately reached out their arms in the hopes they might get to touch the renowned poet.

In the flesh, Shakespeare appeared to be a lot more attractive than any of his portraits ever suggested. He had a head full of wavy golden brown locks and a beard to match.

“He’s a bit different to his portraits.” You commented to no one in particular, as you continued to enthusiastically clap along with everyone else.

“Genius. He’s a genius. The genius, the most human human there’s ever been. And now we’re gonna hear him speak! Always, he chooses the best words, new beautiful, brilliant words...” The Doctor excitedly spoke.

“He is one of the finer Midgardian poets. I have read most of his work, he is truly gifted with his language.” Loki added.

“Shut ya big fat mouths!” Shakespeare merrily exclaimed to his audience, who erupted into laughter, while the Doctors and Loki’s faces fell with disappointment and they halted their applause.

“Oh Gods, he sounds just like my brother after one too many.” Loki realised with alarm.

“I know what you’re all saying, Love’s Labours Lost, that’s a funny ending, isn’t it? It just stops!” Shakespeare clicked his fingers to put emphasis on the abrupt ending. “Will the boys get the girls? Well, don’t get your hose in a tangle, you’ll find out soon.”

“When?” The audience eagerly chanted.

“All in good time, you don’t rush a genius.” The poet lowered himself into an elegant bow before he abruptly shot back up again.

“When?” Shakespeare repeated his audiences question. “Tomorrow night!”

The theatre erupted into raucous applause.

“The premier of my brand new play! A sequel, no less! And I call it Love’s Labours Won!” You and Donna continued clapping, oblivious to the suspicious glance the Doctor and Loki shared with one another over your heads.

***

“I can’t say I have ever heard of Love’s Labours Won.” Donna announced, as you were exiting the theatre, still huddled in a large crowd.

“Me neither, is it one of his more obscure works?” You looked over your shoulder to inquire with the Doctor, who easily stood a whole head and shoulders above the crowd surrounding you, as did Loki, who was walking beside you.

“Well, the thing is, it doesn’t exist, only in rumours. It’s mentioned lists of his plays, but never, ever turns up and no one knows why.” The Doctor explained, adding a tone of mystery to his voice as he quirked his expressive eyebrows.

Your interest peaked almost instantly, you noticed Donna’s had too as you both shared an inquisitive look, eager to discover more about this missing play.

“But how did it disappear in the first place?” Donna asked.

“Well... I suppose we could stay a bit longer and find out.” The Doctor suggested, to which you and Donna shared excited smiles.

***

You collectively made the decision to spend the night in one of the inns, to not only get the full experience but the Doctor knew of which one Shakespeare occupied, this allowed him the opportunity to keep a vigilant eye on the poet, in the hopes of discovering what caused the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

“Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?” The Doctor asked as he knocked on the side of the doorway, “Mr Shakespeare, isn’t it?”

You followed into the room behind the Doctor with Loki close behind you and Donna entering last, to find the famous writer lounging at a desk as he drank from a tin cup, with two of the actors from his play sat in front of him.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, who let you in?” Shakespeare pinched the bridge of his nose. “No autographs. You can’t be sketched with me and please don’t ask where I get my ideas. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove...”

Shakespeare finally removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and raised his hand into a shoo motion, but as he lifted his eyes to look at the Doctor they instead landed on you and his words died on his tongue.

“Hey nonny, nonny,” the playwright addressed you, as he suddenly sat up straight and gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit right down here next to me.”

Your eyes slightly widened at the interest Shakespeare displayed in you, while behind you no one noticed the way Loki had begun looking upon the poet with a shadow cast over his eyes. The innkeeper entered the room and placed her hands on the shoulders of the two actors, who were sat before Shakespeare.

“Come on, lads, I think our William’s found his new muse.” She encouraged them to make themselves scarce, while Shakespeare rose from his seat.

“Sweet lady,” he continued to address you as he beckoned you over to the chair one of the actors previously occupied, you politely smiled at him as you lowered yourself into the chair and he sank back into his own.

The Doctor sat down in the chair beside you and Donna sat on his other side, so he was sandwiched between the two of you, while Loki lingered in the back, where no one could notice the way his gaze menacingly lingered on Shakespeare.

“I’m Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions,” the Doctor listed off your names, as he held up his wallet containing the psychic paper, which he had used to enter the Globe Theatre with, in front of William.

“Interesting. That bit of paper, it’s blank.” Shakespeare pointed out, it appeared he was immune to the papers psychic powers.

“Oh, that’s... very clever.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he let his hand holding the wallet fall limp. “That proves it. Absolute genius.”

“Who are you, exactly?” William rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward as propped his cheek upon his fist, while he returned his attention to you. “More to the point who is your delicious lady?”

Donna raised her eyebrows as she looked between you and the poet. “She’s my niece.” Your auntie stated, capturing the writers attention.

“Your niece is very captivating.” Shakespeare informed your auntie.

“And you’re very married.” Donna countered, clearly disapproving of his flirtatious manner towards you.

Near the back of the room, Loki’s lips lifted in a proud smile as he watched Donna shut down Shakespeare.

“Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!” A large, heavy and bearded man, wearing a pleated collar, black robes and an elaborate gold necklace which rested over his shoulders, invited himself into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“This is absolutely abominable behaviour, a new play, with no warning! I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me, before it can be performed!” He lectured the playwright, who stroked his beard in an idle manner.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll send it round.” The experienced writer calmly answered.

“I don’t work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!” The man demanded.

“I can’t!” Shakespeare finally raised his voice.

“Then tomorrow’s performance is cancelled. Love’s Labours Won will never be played.” The man concluded, before showing himself out the room.

“I guess that answers our questions about Love’s Labours Won. I thought it was going to be a bit more exciting than that. It usually is with you, Doctor.” Donna sighed disappointedly.

Almost as if on cue, the shrill sound of a woman’s scream was heard from the street outside and you all stood to attention.

“Sounds like I spoke to soon.” Donna remarked, before the Doctor sprung from his chair and dashed out the room with the rest of you following on his tail, including Shakespeare.

Once you were all out on the street, you saw the man who had declared the cancellation of Love’s Labours Won, stumbling around and clutching at his neck as he repeatedly threw up what appeared to be water.

“Leave it to me, I’m a doctor.” The Doctor announced, as he rushed to the man’s aid, although he barely reached him before the man collapsed to the floor with a choked groan of pain, as water continued to pour out his mouth.

The man lay motionless on the straw covered cobblestone street and it appeared to be too late for the Doctor to do anything as he checked his pulse with a grim expression.

The Doctor stood to his feet to address the innkeeper, who had come out to witness the commotion.

“Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable, have him taken away.” The Doctor instructed her, before he crouched back down by the body.

You followed Donna as she joined the Doctors side, you knelt on the opposite side of the body across from Donna and the Doctor and Loki settled beside you.

“What actually happened to him?” Donna whispered to the Doctor, understanding that what he had told the innkeeper was a lie.

“If I’m not mistaken, it looks like witchcraft.” The Doctor suspected, his tone deadly serious.

“Before anyone points their finger at me, I’m not a witch. I’m a sorcerer, there is a difference.” Loki proclaimed his innocence.

“No one is blaming you.” You assured him.

“I’m usually the first suspect when something goes wrong.” Loki explained, with a small laugh to keep it light but you still frowned, imagining how frustrating it must be to constantly be seen as the black sheep.

***

You all solemnly returned to the inn, the unexpected death of the man who had wanted to cancel Love’s Labours Won, had inspired the Doctor to stay in order to get to the bottom of it.

The innkeeper had accommodated the four of you with the last two unoccupied rooms of the inn, however almost looked ready to kick you all out onto the streets when Donna had suggested the Doctor and Loki take one room, while she and you take the other.

“Two men will not lie together under my roof.” She muttered ever so quietly, as if it were far too scandalous to be said out loud.

“The dark ages.” The Doctor sighed, while he dragged his palm down his face. “Miss Noble likes to jest,” he assured the innkeeper, who eyed the four of you suspiciously before reluctantly leaving.

“I broke that rule a long time ago.” Shakespeare spoke through a chuckle.

“Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” The Doctor muttered to himself, causing you to let out a small snort of laughter.

***

Due to the innkeepers rules surrounding sleeping arrangements, this resulted in the Doctor and Donna sharing one room, while you and Loki shared the other, the rooms were situated on opposite sides of the inn.

You and Loki stared at the double bed, both wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Inside your mind you were freaking out, but you didn’t let it show on your exterior, you were meant to be trying to forget these thoughts about Loki which occupied your mind, sharing a bed with him for the night would only make it worse.

The God wordless walked further into the room, the floor loudly creaked beneath each step he took, as did the mattress once he lowered himself onto it in a sitting position, with his back turned to you.

He removed his tie and hung it around the post at the bottom of the bed, followed by his suit jacket and then his shoes, your heartbeat was rising with every item of clothing he removed wondering how much further he would go, but luckily he stopped there rested back onto the bed, with his pillows propped against the headboard.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Loki casually commented, noticing you hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room.

You swallowed and softly moved towards the bed, noticing the floor boards didn’t creak as loudly beneath your feet and once you sat on your side of the bed, with your back turned to Loki, you copied his previous movements and began removing your shoes.

“Shakespeare seems fond of you.” Loki remarked, as he picked at some loose thread on the blanket beneath him and you paused your actions. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could sense a certain edge to his voice that made you believe that he wasn’t only making casual conversation.

“Those are words I never imagined would be said towards me.” You lightly chuckled, as you resumed your movements, before you slowly shuffled up the bed to lie beside Loki.

“It must feel nice to capture the attention of such a renowned figure of your realm.” Loki continued, and you wished instead that you could’ve captured the God’s attention in the same way.

“I suppose,” you shrugged, despite the fact that you could admit the man was far more attractive in person than he is depicted in any of his portraits, his attempts at flirting with you hadn’t so much made you swoon but rather made you feel awkward.

“He reminds me of my brother, you would like him.” Loki told you. “The same golden hair, the same confidence-”

“He’s not really my type.” You quickly admitted, causing Loki to pause for a moment.

Without looking you could tell Loki had turned on his side towards you, as you felt the uncomfortable mattress shift beneath your back. He had propped his head up on his elbow, while his other arm rested on the dip of his waist.

“What would you describe ‘your type’ as?” Loki curiously inquired.

You. You answered in your mind, while your lips remained sealed as you pretend to be giving it some thought while you focused on nervously fidgeting with your fingers over your stomach.

Eventually you lifted your eyes to Loki, his were already unapologetically focused on you. As you silently watched him from under your lashes, you willed him to read your mind from your stare alone and from the way his eyes darted over your face, you could tell he was trying.

The candlelight which luminated the room, cause his eyelashes to cast shadows over his defined cheeks when his gaze paused on your lips for a moment too long, he drew his own lips inward to moisten them as his eyes slowly rose back to yours.

You leaned towards him, ever so slightly and nervously swallowed as he moved the hand he was using to support his head, to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. His other arm made the mattress dip beside your waist, as he used it to support his weight as he leaned his upper body over you.

His long hair fell untidily around his face and you hesitantly reached out your own hand to tuck one side of it behind his ear, surprised by how silky it felt against your fingertips. You let your palm cradle his sharp jaw as he slowly lowered his own face towards yours and both your eyelids fell shut as you waited to feel the sensation of the others lips moving against your own, but just as you felt his warm breath fan against your skin, an ear piercing scream caused you to shoot up with alarm and your forehead to smack against Loki’s.

“Fuck!” You both cried in unison as you cradled your throbbing foreheads in your palms. The sound of loud footsteps running past your door from the hallway outside, reminded you of what caused you to startle in the first place and you quickly jumped from your bed, ignoring the way the pain in your head protested against it and rushed after the sound of the footsteps down the stairs.

“She died of fright.” You heard the Doctor conclude, as you turned through the doorway to the study Shakespeare was working in, to find the time lord leaning over the innkeeper’s dead body. Your auntie was stood at the open window, as if searching for something, and Shakespeare looked dazed as he sat at his desk with confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t like how this is turning into the plot of Clue.” You commented, before you jumped when you heard footsteps behind you, only to relax when you saw they belonged to Loki.

“Doctor!” Donna called from the window, and he immediately rushed over to catch what she was looking at but unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t quick enough.

“What did you see?”

“A witch.” Your auntie answered, as if she could hardly believe herself.

***

During the early hours of the morning, the innkeepers body had been removed by a coroner and the Doctor had stayed up until the crack of dawn began to peak through the inn’s windows, trying to figure out how the sudden deaths and the witchcraft all linked to the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

You and Loki provided little help, hardly listening to the Doctor as he voiced his thoughts loud. You were both to occupied with distracting one other, as you kept glancing at each other from across the room, the tension between the both of you had been building ever since your chance to share a kiss was stolen away from you.

Looking around the room, you could see everyone was caught up with trying to come up with explanations for what was happening and you realised you could probably slip out the room without anyone noticing or at least not paying it much attention.

Giving Loki a look which made a crease form between his eyebrows you rose from your chair and quietly made your way towards the door leading to the hallway, you paused once more under the arch of the doorway and gave Loki another look, which caused his eyebrows to rise with understanding, before you disappeared into the hallway.

You walked up the stairs and entered the room you and Loki were sharing, hoping he would figure out where to find you, you sat on the bottom of the bed as you waited.

It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps approaching the room, no one could ever hope to move around quietly on the floorboards of the inn. The doorway to your room was lower than the others, which meant when Loki walked through it he had to duck his head. After he gently shut the door behind him, he turned and paused with his back to the door, you were looking at him, from where you sat on the bed, with a wide smile as giggles threatened to rise from your stomach at the secrecy of it all.

“I was meant to follow after you, right?” Loki checked, as he walked further into the room.

You nodded as you rose to your feet and met him halfway.

“I’ve never done this before,” Loki bashfully admitted, as he looked down. “Sneak away with someone in secret, I mean.”

“You never had anyone to sneak away with in that big old palace on Asgard?” You asked, putting little effort into hiding your surprise. “I assume you lived in a palace, I don’t actually know…”

“Yes, I grew up in a palace,” Loki chuckled, “and no, there was no one to sneak away with in it, that was more Thor’s arena.”

“I’ve never done this either,” you confessed, “I had visions of myself waiting here and you not showing up because I didn’t make myself clear enough and then having to return to the room pretending I just took a piss in a bucket.”

Loki’s laughter grew louder and his smile wider, as crinkles appeared at the side of his eyes which lit up his entire face, you decided you would like to see this expression on him more.

You reached your hand up to his face and gently rested your palm against his cheek and in return you felt his large hands engulf your hips as they gently pulled you closer. Your other hand rose to his shoulder and brushed along it until you curled your fingers around the back of his neck to slowly pull his face towards yours.

This time you felt his lips mould against yours without any interruptions, his right hand left your hip to brush up to the small of your back, the back of your shirt slightly rode up with his hand, and he pulled you closer so your chests were flush, while your whole arm snaked around the back of his neck and you felt the tips of his soft hair tickle against your bare forearm.

Blindly Loki guided you towards the bed, never lifting his lips from yours for one second. Once he felt the back of his calves hit the bed frame, he let himself fall onto the mattress, it let out a squeak as did you, and you giggled against his mouth as you made yourself comfortable in his lap with your legs resting on either side of his hips.

His hands moved to hold you firmly around your waist as your palms rested on both his shoulders. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, and turned your head away to let out a yawn, exhausted from staying up until dawn.

“I’m that boring, huh?” Loki joked, as his hands soothed up and down the sides of your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you hummed, as you gave him a small peck, “I guess my lack of sleep finally caught up with me.”

“You should rest,” Loki suggested, as he attached his lips to the column of your neck to leave feather light kisses, you let out a throaty groan in response as the tips of your fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked with closed eyes, as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you felt his hand climb up your spine, before his fingers buried themselves into your hair as he cradled the back of your head. “I know you don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but will you stay with me while I do?”

Loki lifted his head from your neck to look at you, while his fingers which were buried in your hair, gently massaged over your scalp which sent a calming sensation running straight down your spine, relaxing you even further and making your eyelids heavier.

You couldn’t see it on his face, but Loki was shocked by the fact you trusted him enough to wish to sleep beside him. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he stared up at you through his lashes with wide eyes full of wonder. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded, which caused you to tiredly smile and give him another small kiss as thanks.

As you both moved up the bed, the mattress creaked and squeaked beneath you. Loki rested on his back and you crawled up to him and rested your head on his chest, you could feel it softly rise and fall and you could hear his heartbeat while his calming sent surrounded you, and they all worked together to help lull you off into a peaceful sleep.

Before you drifted off, you felt Loki’s arm curl around your shoulders while the tips of his fingers softly brushed against your arm, causing goosebumps to rise where they travelled.

Loki planted a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his own eyes fall shut, deciding to give sleep a try even though he wasn’t feeling particularly tired.

***

You were abruptly woken up by the sounds of screams and lightening coming from the street outside your room. Due to the fact none of the candles were lit, it was filled with darkness, the only thing luminating the room was an unsettling red glow, which shone through the windows of the inn. You shot up immediately and discovered Loki had fallen asleep, kneeling on the mattress beside him you put your hand on his shoulder and shook him awake.

“What is it?” His voice sounded croaky from his sleep, he soon heard the screams and noticed the sinister red glow of the room, he jumped from the bed and rushed to the window and you followed after him, your jaw dropped and your hand came up to your mouth at what you saw.

From your second story window of the inn, you had a perfect view of the Globe Theatre and right now storm clouds and lightening swirled around it, while luminous crimson smoke rose from the centre. On the streets below groups of people desperately rushed away from the theatre crying and screaming.

“Donna and the Doctor are probably already at the theatre, we have to go!” You rushed back to the bed to pull on your shoes and Loki did the same.

Once you were both ready, you ran out of the inn and into the chaos on the street. Loki took your hand in his as you both began running towards the Globe Theatre, so you wouldn’t get separated by the large crowds running against you.

When you reached the theatre, you saw the stage door was slightly ajar and ran straight towards it, pulling Loki along with you.

As soon as you reached the stage, and saw your auntie, the Doctor and Shakespeare all stood on it, you dropped Loki’s hand. You missed the way the God’s brows formed a crease while he looked down at your hand, as you were too distracted by the terrifying sight before you.

Your hair blew around your face wildly, as in the centre of the theatre there was what only could be described as a hurricane of scarlet mist and lightning bolts and dark horrifying figures flew around inside the swirling phenomenon.

“Donna!” You called, as you rushed to her side.

She called your name when she turned over her shoulder and saw you and pulled you towards her.

“What’s going on?” You yelled above the commotion, Loki stood closely beside you and listened to the conversation.

“They want to end the world, take over and build their new empire.” Donna explained with tears in her eyes, “we’re too late, there’s nothing we can do.”

Your lips fell slack and you looked back towards the swirling flaming red mist with terror, realising it was a portal, to unleash evil upon the world.

You looked up at Loki, his long black hair waved around his face from the gusts caused by the portal, he was staring at it with a thoughtful expression before his eyes locked with yours and he saw the fear in them.

With a determined look, Loki walked towards the edge of the stage, you noticed the luminous emerald mist already starting to form in his palms before he lifted them towards the centre of the theatre. His right foot came backwards, to support his weight, as his magic pushed against him but he leaned his upper body into it.

With one hand he focused his magic on the centre of the theatre, before he moved the other to direct a burst of magic towards the royal box, your eyes followed the green mist and widened when you saw three witches who you hadn’t noticed before. With his magic focusing on the witches who were the source of the power, the portal began to deteriorate and was easily engulfed by Loki’s magic.

The God raised both his arms into the air, and a green surge of light shot into the night sky, taking the portal with it, the force caused the doors behind the stage to fly open and hundreds of loose pages flew into the air and with a resounding boom everything vanished, the only evidence left behind was a faint green mist which slowly began to dissipate. Even the three witches who had been sat in the royal box were gone, the only thing left behind was a crystal ball which sat on the edge of the balcony.

The remaining members of the audience, who hadn’t managed to escape, began to slowly clap until they erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause.

From the side of the stage, you watched Loki glance around at the audience, as he momentarily appeared to be caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure and lowered himself into an elegant bow with both his arms spread wide and the audience began applauding him even louder.

Shakespeare appeared by your side and took your hand in his, your other hand was already holding Donna’s and he guided you both to the edge of the stage, beside Loki and the three of you bowed in unison, however the entire time your eyes were locked on Loki as he stared at your hand which was held in the poets, and that dangerous shadow cast over his eyes again as his jaw clenched.

***

Loki had avoided you for the rest of the night. When you all returned to the inn, due to the fact most of the guests had fled the town in fright when the portal opened, there were suddenly a lot more rooms going spare. Loki had vanished to one of the rooms without a word, despite the fact everyone was trying to bestow him with gratitude and praise for literally saving the world, he ignored it all.

You had stayed in the common room, with Donna, the Doctor and Shakespeare as they explained everything that had happened. The witches in the royal box had possessed Shakespeare last night as he was writing the end of Love’s Labours Won and wrote a spell into the script, the innkeeper must have witnessed this and died from the fright. They had killed the man who had tried to cancel the play as they needed it to be performed and for the actor to read the spell out loud on stage to open the portal, which would’ve allowed millions of their kind to travel through and invade Earth, the Doctor had called them the Carrionites.

The entire time you couldn’t keep Loki off your mind, the look on his face when he saw your hand in Shakespeare’s, kept appearing behind your eyes, making your heart sink deeper each time. As soon as Donna and the Doctor had finished explaining everything to you, you excused yourself and headed upstairs to the rooms and stopped in front of the door which you had seen Loki disappear behind.

“Loki?” You softly knocked on the door, but there came no response. You tried the handle, but it was firmly locked.

“Can we talk?” You tried again, and you waited, but still nothing.

You rested your forehead against the door in defeat and sighed.

“Goodnight, Loki.” You whispered before you retreated to your room.

***

The next morning the Doctor had decided to return to the theatre to see if he could help Shakespeare salvage any parts of Love’s Labours Won, but it seemed as though all traces of it vanished when Loki destroyed the portal, finally solving your mystery of how it disappeared.

Loki still hadn’t emerged from his room, even when you had knocked on his door to inform him that you were all heading to the theatre and then from there you would be returning to the TARDIS.

You were beginning to feel incredibly worried about him while you sat on a wooden box on the stage of the Globe Theatre as your concerns raced through your mind.

“What troubles you?” You startled, since you had been too distracted by your worries to even notice that Shakespeare had taken a seat beside you on the box.

You contemplated whether or not you should actually tell the poet what was troubling you or if you should dismiss him, you realised that you couldn’t really voice your worries to Donna or the Doctor since neither of them knew about what happened between you and Loki yet. At least with Shakespeare he would be out of your life for good within the hour, so you decided you could share it with him.

“It’s Loki,” you sighed sadly, “he has been avoiding me.”

You suddenly felt the weight of his hand on your lower back, as he pulled you closer and you stiffened.

“If Loki won’t give you his attention. Why not entertain a man who will?” Shakespeare proposed, before he began leaning his face towards yours.

Your eyes widened and you immediately brought your hands to his chest to push him away.

“It seems I arrived at the wrong time.” As soon as you heard Loki’s familiar deep voice, your heart plummeted in your chest.

“Loki,” you looked over your shoulder at him, guilt already filling your eyes, despite the fact you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You weren’t going to kiss Shakespeare, you had been milliseconds away from pushing him off the box.

You rose to your feet and tried to walk towards Loki but he took a step backwards to maintain the distance and you got the hint.

“Good props store, back there!” The Doctor caught your attention, you turned and saw him and Donna returning to the stage, dressed in various different props and costume pieces.

“Not sure about this, though.” He held up what appeared to be a large animals skull in his left hand, you couldn’t depict what it was, but it looked ghastly. “Reminds me of a Sycorax.”

“Sycorax.” Shakespeare repeated. “Nice word. I’ll have that one off you as well.”

“I should be on 10%.” The Doctor muttered.

“Mobius.” You heard Loki gasp from behind you, and your attention turned to his line of sight, to find a fair haired man, with a moustache and wearing a plain brown suit enter the theatre by one of the stalls entrances, followed by a group of armed officers. You instantly recognised him as the man Loki had been hiding from in Pompeii.

“It’s nice to finally see you again, Loki.” The man spoke, sounding like an old friend, but there was definitely something far more sinister hiding in his tone.

By now the exchange had captured everyone’s attention, as you all glanced between Loki and the new stranger Loki had addressed as Mobius.

“How did you find me?” Loki asked, as he stepped towards the edge of the stage.

“It wasn’t too hard, we’ve been tracking seismic activities of your magic. You lead us right to you.” Mobius smiled, it seemed that composed smile never left his face. From how uneasy Loki appeared, you decided you disliked him already.

“I’d just like to know, who would be idiotic enough to give you, of all people, free rein through all of time and space.” Mobius asked Loki, who had parted his lips to answer but before he could, the Doctor stepped up to the edge of the stage beside him.

“That would be me.” The Doctor announced, still dressed in all the props he had found back stage, including a pleated collar and an oversized beret while he still held the disturbing animal skull, he looked quite the spectacle.

Mobius was speechless for a moment, as his eyes dragged up and down the Doctor’s tall form.

“He’s a time lord.” Loki proudly lifted his head, as one might just before they lay down their cards to reveal a winning hand.

Mobius smile finally dropped, and you couldn’t help the smirk that lifted at the corner of your lips, proud to see Loki have an advantage.

“Impossible. They’re all gone.” Mobius tried to hide any traces of confusion from his face and tone and instead feigned confidence in his statement.

“All except me.” The Doctor explained, and you practically saw the realisation hit Mobius at full force.

“You’re...” The words died on Mobius’ tongue, before his eyes filled with horror.

“I’m beginning to get the feeling that they don’t honour me as much as they do the other time lords.” The Doctor whispered to Loki, who was now frowning.

Mobius commanded something you couldn’t hear to the armed officers around him and they raised their weapons.

“I think that is our cue to run.” The Doctor decided as he slowly began backing away, he threw the animals skull at Shakespeare, who quickly caught it, then took Donna’s hand in his own as he rushed past her and lead her out the stage door with you and Loki following closely behind him.

You followed the trail of the Doctors long brown trench coat, through the busy streets, glad that he seemed to memorise the way to the TARDIS because you had no idea, while you had flashbacks of running for your life through Pompeii, except this time you were running from the exact same thing Loki had been.

Once the familiar blue box caught your eye, your legs began carrying you even quicker as you made your final sprint towards it. The Doctor was already at the door, holding it open, you made it in first and then Loki closely after you.

The Doctor wasted no time and immediately rushed to the controls to get the TARDIS out of there as soon as possible, while you leant over the rail, as you tried to catch your breath. You felt the sharp pain of a stitch in your side and brought the tips of your fingers up to your abdomen and dug them into your skin where you felt the pain, in an attempt to ease it.

Just as the familiar tremors and the sound of the engine wheezing filled the control room, an outside force caused the ship to jerk harshly and sent you crashing to the floor.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath, as pain shot through your hip from the impact of hitting the hard floor.

Glancing around it seemed everyone else had managed to maintain their balance, the Doctor was still frantically working at the controls, Donna was glancing at you with concern from the other side of the control room and Loki looked lost in thought while he held on tight to the rail.

Eventually the tremors subsided and the TARDIS settled into a tranquil state and the Doctor collapsed into the seats with his feet rested up against the ships console, looking exhausted as he finally pulled the pleated collar from off his neck with a heavy sigh.

“Well… now we’re all on the run from the Time Variance Authority.” The time lord concluded.

#loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

64 notes · View notes

fanfic-me-up · 4 years ago

Text

Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more!

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse.

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself.

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!”

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud.

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back.

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.”

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform.

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?”

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!”

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?”

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou?

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.”

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?”

You’re afraid of the answer.

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness?

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here?

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A.

It was the half-truth.

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.”

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him.

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak.

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!”

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!”

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass - and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic.

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate.

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you.

“And you must be Y/N? Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.”

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over.

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?”

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time.

��But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.”

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need.

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time.

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace.

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha #bnhabookclub #bnha x reader #fanfic-me-up #bnha fanfic #mha #mha x reader #mha fanfic

889 notes · View notes

lixis-sin-cauldron · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess and The Hawk [Hawks | Keigo Takami] Pt. 1

Part Two: Available Here Rating: Explicit 18+ content MINORS DNI. Pairing: Keigo Takami (Hawks) X fem!reader Word Count: 6.9k Kinks and Warnings: Animal Violence, Blood

Summary: A dull routine, every day like the last. You're comfortable, if a little lonely. Who knew a simple walk home could change so much? Can also be read on Ao3 here: The Princess and The Hawk Big thank you to my lovely beta reader @lilleeboi

Passing through the park to get home after work was your main way to de-stress after dealing with customers all day, the time of day left the area fairly empty and the fall air carried the wonderful scents of the season that wafted through the trees and flowers. Normally, it was the most calming part of your day. Normally.

Today, you were startled out of your calm daze by the screeching and hissing of two animals going at each other. Your eyes snapped toward the source of the noise, a twisting ball of fur a few meters ahead, beside the park walkway. Correction: a twisting ball of fur and feathers.

A large grey tabby had somehow been able to snag a very large brown bird that was currently doing its best to fend the feline off as it tried going for the bird’s throat, its talons pushing against the cat’s stomach, a smear of red in the fur where it pressed.

Nature is intense, you thought.

You knew better than to interrupt, they were both wild animals, predators that killed to feed and survive, you had no right to push your human views onto the fight. Wanting to return to your calm mindset, you hurried by the unsettling sight, willing your shaky legs forward. You didn't want to think of the fate that awaited the loser.

As the scuffle disappeared out of sight behind you, you heard a hoarse squawk that felt as if it was directed at you. Involuntarily, you turned to see the cat had gained the upper hand. It had pinned the bird on its stomach and was about to clamp down its jaw on the nape of its neck in a killing blow.

Your eyes met the bird’s, a striking golden-brown, and it seemed to be crying for help with its stare.

Forgoing your previous judgment – unable to ignore the desperate plea – you rushed towards the pair, slipped your purse off, and swung it with full force. It connected cleanly against the tabby just before it was able to land its killing blow. It tumbled backward, and after rolling for a moment, righted itself and turned towards you and its stolen prey. It stared you down, hissing deeply, then wincing. It let loose another deep hiss before retreating.

Heart pounding, you took a deep breath and looked at the bird that you had saved, almost positive it wouldn’t be there – having flown off when it was freed. However, there it remained, resting in the grass, its chest heaving just like yours.

“Oh geez,” Taking to your knees you hovered hands over the wounded avian, unsure of what to do. “Please don’t die.”

The bird shifted, trying to stand and move its wings, as if in response to your plea to prove it was fine. However, as it stretched its left-wing it flinched, wobbled for a moment, and collapsed back to the dirt.

You whimpered, unsure of what to do. It was clearly hurt, if you left it alone there was a good chance it would be attacked again or just die of its wounds anyway.

Ugh, why did I do that? There was no point in intervening, it’s going to die either way.

The bird still heaved, giving you a sideways stare. It seemed to study you with its gaze and tried moving again, letting out a cry as it did. Your heart gave a pang at the sight; it clearly wanted to live. How could you just leave it after stepping in?

“Do-don’t move,” you stuttered, reaching forward, “I’ll bring you to a vet, they’ll help you.”

Surprisingly, the bird gave no resistance to your touch. When you found trouble grasping it, especially while trying not to hurt it in the process, you peeled off your light jacket and gently wrapped the fowl in that. Once sure you had a hold that didn’t cause further damage, you raced off in the direction of the nearest animal clinic you could find.

“He’s pretty beat up, but nothing life-threatening,” The Veterinary nurse explained, softly running a thumb over the bird’s crown, its plumage fluttering at the touch. “We cleaned the cuts and the left-wing has a small hairline fracture. It’s been properly set but will need at least 2 to 3 weeks to fully heal, so we wrapped the wing so it can’t move. You’ll need to-”

“Wait, me? Why do I have to?” you were glad to hear the animal would be okay, but you were alarmed to hear they expect you to take care of it.

They looked at you in surprise, “Isn’t he yours?”

“No!” You waved your hands frantically, “I found it being attacked and just… stepped in. I don’t even know what breed it- err, he is. Let alone how to care for him.”

“That’s surprising, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an exotic bird just randomly being found like that.”

“Exotic?”

“Yes, this handsome man is a Red-Tailed Hawk. They’re a North American bird. For it to be in Japan that means it was brought here and must have an owner, so I just assumed that was you.”

“O-oh.” You can’t say you were that surprised at the revelation, you had never seen a bird that looked like the hawk. A closer examination showed that it wasn’t just brown, but a beautiful mix of dark brown, white, and tan. Along with strikingly red tail feathers that you had been sure at the time was blood.

“This one seems very special too, normally the tail feathers are more of a cinnamon-red.” The nurse provided, seeming to have followed your thought process, “He’s very well cared for and in amazing shape, aside from the scuffle. If he hadn’t been grounded due to the wing, I doubt that cat would have ever touched him or stood a chance if it had been able to.”

“The cat didn’t do that?”

“The fracture is very clean; an animal’s bite would have crushed the bone.”

“Oh, that’s good… I guess?” you studied the hawk, resting in a box filled with a plush towel that the clinic had provided, he was perfectly calm under the expert’s touch. You were sure the calm state was in part of the fact he was full of painkillers at the moment, but you had an urge to follow the example and pet the resting creature yourself. You held back though, instead returning to your original topic, “Uh, as I said, he’s not mine so are… you guys able to take him since he’s a lost pet?”

Their strokes of the feather head ceased, instead rising up to scratch their forehead, “Sometimes we do that, sure, but right now we’re a little full plus it normally best for a bird sanctuary to take them but in this case….”

“In this case…?”

“They’re trained and equipped to handle local wildlife and such. With this being an exotic breed, they wouldn’t take it in due to the trouble it could cause.”

“So… what does that mean for him? You said it would take a few weeks for the wing to heal, so he can’t fly and as a pet, he may not survive even if he could fly.” You had an idea of where the conversation was heading but you really hoped you were wrong.

“There are a few places I could check to see if they could take him in while they searched for the owner, but with how late it is I’d have to wait until tomorrow to contact them and they may not be able to take him right away even if they could…”

You sighed, “Would it be… hard to take care of him for a few days?”

The nurse beamed, happy to hear you volunteering, “Given his condition, no, not really,” They picked up a bag that had been sitting on the table beside the bird’s box and pulled out the contents. “The pain medication would keep him mellow for the most part, so even if he wasn’t such a gentleman,” They preened at the bird, commenting on how composed he had been during the whole ordeal. “You wouldn’t have much trouble handling him. You just need to apply this one orally every twice a day and this one on the cuts—”

You struggled into your apartment, the box in your arms, and your keys fighting for dominance as you unlocked the door. The keys lost and fumbled to the ground as the door teetered open.

“Fuckbucket," you cursed.

Leaving them on the ground, you carried the precious cargo past your couch and to the dining room table at the far edge of the small apartment and set it down as carefully as possible. The hawk had fallen asleep during your travel home and you were very keen to keep it that way.

After ensuring he wasn’t going to wake, you returned to the entrance and retrieved your keys as well as the shopping bag that rested next to the doorway.

While the clinic had been happy to give advice on how to care for the bird, and even charging just the cost of the visit and nothing else – you’d still had to call a ride-share to take the bird home and even stop at a pet store to purchase things to help care for him. Since it wasn’t like you actually owned anything to use while he lived with you.

A big piece of advice to make a safe space for the hawk to rest since you wouldn’t have a cage to place it in, free-roaming was the preferred option if it felt well enough to move around. They also provided a contact line to call if he suddenly became violent. While the wounded wing was wrapped, he couldn’t fly but the talons and beak could still cause damage if you weren’t careful. They would contact you as well once they had a place for him to go while the owner was being looked for.

Stretching with an exhausted sigh, your gaze returned to the box and found the hawk now awake and his head now resting on the edge watching you with glazed eyes.

“Uh, hi,” You blinked, wondering why you had just greeted an animal. Though he definitely didn’t feel like an animal when you locked eyes with him. You had a disconcerting feeling when he looked at you like he was analyzing you.

He let out a weak squawk in reply to the greeting.

“Right…” you decided to just go with it, picking up the purchased items you approached the table cautiously and started setting up an area next to the box with feed and water, “So, you’ll be staying with me for a bit, just while you heal and we find your home.”

He ruffled his feathers as the word ‘home’. You weren’t sure how to take that if it even meant anything to start with.

“So, if you can… I don’t know, not cause too much trouble, that would be great. Think you can do that for me, buddy?” You asked, holding out a hesitant hand to him, curled so the back of your fingers were present.

He stared at the extended appendage and you were sure he was going to bite you, but he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against your knuckles.

Your heart fluttered, a smile blossoming across your face at the sight. He suddenly seemed a lot less frightening to you; realizing that he was tired and sore, and maybe even thankful to have a safe place after what he had experienced.

He withdrew his touch and curled in the box, head under his free wing and only a moment later, gentle snoring could be heard."

Wish I could fall asleep that fast. You snorted, laughing at the idea of envying a drugged-up fowl.

The concept of sleep did appeal very strongly after the evening you’d had; so, you ate a quick dinner, showered, and slipped into your bed, leaving the door ajar in case you needed to access the living/dining space quickly.

Your oversized t-shirt hung off your shoulder loosely, your underwear peeking out from underneath as your arms stretched above your head while walking into your tiny kitchen. After withdrawing a bottle of water from the fridge, you lazily looked around your home as you sipped it. You sputtered as your eyes fell upon the box resting on the table, coughing harshly as you forced the water from your lungs, having forgotten the previous day’s events in your sleepy state.

The box was tipped over sideways, the towel in a bundle on the table.

“No, no, no,” you chanted, rushing over and looking around for the wounded animal, “Where-” the words caught as the towel squirmed, the dark brown hawk head popping out from beneath it. “Oh, thank god.”

You were wide awake now.

“You scared the living hell out of me, buddy,” you reached forward and ran a knuckle across his crown, enjoying the softness. You leaned over, reaching eye level with him, “You have a nightmare or something?” You cooed.

You noticed his eyes drift, losing connection with yours, and move downwards, his head giving a tilt as they settled. You followed his gaze and realized you were giving the bird a clear view right down your shirt, where you were currently braless. You reacted instantly, straightening yourself and holding the shirt close to your bosom with a flushed face.

It’s a bird! you reminded yourself, He was probably just reacting to the fabric moving. He’s probably hungry. I need to give him his medicine, too.

Calming your nerves, you retrieved the small bag with medication. “Hey, buddy, you probably don’t feel great right? This will help numb that pain. You mind letting me put this in your mouth?” You held a syringe up, filled with a paste, and capped with a rubber tip that you could slide into his beak.

He seemed to glower at the suggestion, and you were starting to dread having to force his beak open when he shoved the towel off his back and stood up wobbling.

“Wow, you’re very clever, aren’t you? ” you exclaimed.

He huffed at the praise, parting his beak marginally to allow the tip to slide in. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, you carefully slid the syringe tip into his mouth and pushed the plunger just enough to provide the proper dose as you had been instructed.

The hawk reacted negatively, chomping his beak and twisting his head, evidently not enjoying the taste of the medicine. He strode over the water bowl resting on the tabletop and dunked his beak into the water, small bubbles rolling the surface as he guzzled down the liquid.

The sight was so shocking, you couldn’t help but start laughing, your chest heaved as you gasped for air between your cackles.

The hawk, having finished his drink, seemed unimpressed with your reaction.

“Oh, come on,” you chided after regaining your composure. “That was hilarious. Geez, I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. Thanks for that, buddy.”

He shook, his feathers fluffing, then turned and pushed himself back under the towel, clearly unamused.

“Aw, baby’s embarrassed.” You cooed with another chuckle before returning to the kitchen and fixing yourself some breakfast. Once you’d eaten you returned to him to refill the water bowl he had downed and finally noticed that the bowl with the bird feed had been overturned at some point, most likely when he had flipped the box during the night.

“Can you not make a mess of the apartment?” You nagged, cleaning the mess, and refilling the bowl. He gave no reaction, his bright red tail the only visible part sticking out from under the towel. You gently poked the protruding feathers, feeling him lurch in surprise at the touch, “Hey, make sure you eat, you’ll feel horrible with no food in your stomach.”

The hawk rolled under the towel, sticking his head out to glower at the bowl and then you.

“Someone’s in a foul mood,” You blinked, then grinned. “Pun not intended.”

You could swear he rolled his eyes.

Just as you were about to comment on the action, your phone alarm went off. You groaned, “Time for work,” You studied the bird and the sideways box. “They said free roaming would be best since I don’t have a pen or cage big enough for you…” You shifted a dining room chair so it was angled against the table. “If, uh, you want to get down just use this instead of trying to fly… okay?”

His reply was crawling back under the towel, making sure to be completely hidden this time.

Still talking to a bird.

You grumbled something nonsensical, then returned to your room to change your clothes. Once ready to go, you padded towards your door, pulling your hair into a ponytail and glanced at the lump under the towel, and wondered if you should try and call off instead. You decided against it, knowing there was little you could change by staying home.

“I’ll… be back before you need more meds,” you called out. No reaction. You sighed, wondering why you felt like there would be, and exited your home.

You were more than relieved when you returned home and found it in the same condition you had left it that morning. In fact, you realized as you checked for damages, it seemed as if the bird hadn’t moved the entire time you’d been at work. You trailed over to the table and saw that he was where you had left him, snoozing away under the towel, his beak barely protruding.

“I’m home,” you said softly, running a fingertip over the exposed beak.

He let out a soft cooing sound at the touch, wiggling enough to expose his head and look at you with his intense golden eyes.

“Hey, buddy.”

Another coo with a head tilt so he rested on his cheek as he stared, seeming somewhat dazed.

“You okay?” you asked worriedly, he had been more responsive until now. You were about to call the clinic when you saw that the feed bowl had not been touched at all, no dip in the seed to indicate that he had moved anything within. “You haven’t eaten at all?” you declared, picking up the bowl. “I told you-” you paused and sighed, wondering once again why you spoke to an animal like he understood you.

“Do you not like this brand or blend or something?” you muttered. You pulled out your phone to see what type of bird feed was best for him. You realized something unfortunate. Voles, rats, rabbits… “I bought the wrong type of food.” You groaned. You had been in such a rush to get back to the rideshare you had just grabbed the recommended bag of bird feed, not even thinking to make sure that your new roommate could actually eat it.

You didn’t really have any prey type meat just lying around your kitchen. He needed to eat something.

“Ugh, maybe I can mix some… gravy or something into the seed. Maybe that will work for him until I can get something better.” You left the avian to stride over to the kitchen, opening the fridge in search of an additive to spur the bird’s appetite since, according to Google, he could eat the seed if he had to, but was just choosing not to.

Before you had really started your search the hawk let out a low screech, pulling your attention back to him. Your head snapped over in reaction, surprised to see him standing on the table and eyeballing you, giving a strong feeling of a hunter studying its prey.

“Uh, what’s up, buddy?” you asked nervously.

He shifted his weight between his feet for a few moments before dipping his head down and hooking his beak around the brim of the metal feed bowl. Once gripped, he raised his head, bringing the bowl with and held it in the air for a second while he fought to keep balance at the sudden weight. You were about to call out for him to stop, in case he got hurt, when he thrust his head downwards and released the bowl.

The bowl bounced off the tabletop and tumbled to the floor, spinning. Feed flew all around him, covering the table and floor.

Stunned, you didn’t move, the apartment filled with the sounds of the bowl spinning in place before settling with a dull clunk. The hawk arched his back and let out a defiant squawk at you, finalizing the production you’d just witnessed.

You blinked, processing what had just occurred before standing up, furious, “Are you serious?” you snapped at the proud bird. “You – that – I said don’t make – I don’t even- Okay!” You shouted, unable to process your thoughts, “I get it, you don’t want the damn seed but what the fuck. I have to clean all this up! That- you-”

I’m shouting a bird.

You sighed, cupping your face in your hands and letting out a long groan. What the hell was wrong with this bird, you had never met an animal that was so damn- you didn’t even know how to describe it.

“Let me see what I have,” you hissed at the fowl, wondering if hawk tasted like chicken.

Hm, chicken...

You returned to your excavation of the fridge and found the pack of chicken breasts you had intended to cook the night before when you had been planning to be home earlier and not as tired as you ended up being.

Guess I can make this tonight and share some with him. Not that you found him worthy of this type of treat at the moment.

“Wait… Can hawks eat chicken? Isn’t that like-” your sentence was interrupted by the bird giving a squawk, he was shifting his weight between his feet again but more in an excited dance than a show as before. “What? You like chicken?”

Another squawk.

“Fine.” Ripping the package open, pulling one breast out, and to your cutting board. A few minutes later you set down a bowl of the raw meat in front of him, cut into bite-sized cubes for easier consumption.

He stared at the bowl, suddenly seeming reluctant.

“Oh, what now?” You groaned, pitching your brow.

Fluffing his feathers and looking at you, his gaze shifted to behind you back towards the kitchen.

“What, you want more?”

He huffed and bowed his head, though that lasted only a moment before he held it high again and had a confident look as if having set his mind to something. Wobbling, he padded to the edge of the table and hooked his beak into the dining chair you had set up that morning for him and started climbing down it.

You found the process fascinating, surprised by his sudden burst of energy. Stepping out of the way, you watched as he landed on the tiled floor, starting his way to the kitchen by hopping and tapping along while doing his best to keep balance. He reached the middle of the area and stood in front of the oven. He was panting, having worn himself out with the exercise. However, he wasn’t done, clearly wanting to strike home just what he was thinking, as he bent his head forward and tapped his forehead against the metal appliance, repeating the gesture softly a few times before stopping and resting it there, turning to look at you to ensure you were watching and understood.

“I’m guessing that means you want it cooked.”

The confirmation seemed to be correct, as he gave a weak note in reply and slid to the floor, exhausted by his show; he landed softly on his back, feet in air.

You stepped up to him and bent down, gently brushing the plumage of his stomach, “You are the most spoiled pet I have ever seen. Fine, I’ll cook the damn chicken. Don’t expect anything fancy, though.”

He only let out a long exhale in reply.

You returned the tired bird to the table, grabbed the bowl of chicken cubes, and began once again to prepare the request. A quick check on the phone and you decided to just boil the meat, not adding any spices or extras since that could hurt his stomach. You also did a double-check and removed any excess fat, noting that also wasn’t great for him

While the cubes boiled, you made yourself your own meal, a mouthwatering bowl of katsu over rice.

You set the boiled meat down in front of the starving avian. “Happy?” You sighed, hoping he would finally eat something.

He huffed at the bowl, as if contemplating how to also toss it in a showy fashion, then bent his head and took a cube. He chomped down on it and shivered. Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head in contemplation then bent again to grab another.

“Glad to see it’s good enough for your refined palate.”

Grabbing your own meal, you plopped down at the table opposite the bird and started eating while browsing your phone. You were only a few bites in when you noticed the hawk leaning over you, staring at the bowl.

“Noooo. No!” you pulled the bowl close to your chest, “You have your chicken, this is mine! And fried foods are bad for birds.”

He fluffed, giving you what you could only describe as puppy dog eyes.

How???

You grumbled, “One bite, one!” You pinched a piece of katsu with your chopsticks, making a small bird-sized piece, and lifted the morsel for the bird to take. He did so eagerly, snatching the piece and sliding it down his throat.

He let out a contented coo.

“Glad you like it- No,” you snapped as he started giving the same look once again. “I said one, and I meant it! I’m in charge here, mister!”

He seemed to relent, his shoulders slumping then he tilted his head again, a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Wha- Uh.” Your voice caught as he slipped off the table into your lap and pressed himself into your chest, nuzzling you. You held back a squeal of delight at the surprising cuteness of the hawk while holding your food in the air with one hand. “That’s a dirty move and I refuse-”

He cooed, looking up at you with big eyes.

“One more.”

He gave a rumbling sound of happiness as he downed the next piece, continuing to snuggle you.

You set the bowl down and gave your full attention to the large bird, amazed at how affectionate he was. You ran your fingers through his feathers, finding soft down. You lost yourself to the petting; he seemingly enjoyed the pampering. You were unsure how, but you were now at the injured fowl’s mercy.

Both of you jumped as your phone went off in your pocket, interrupting the cuddle session. Holding him still, you retrieved it and answered quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hi, there! This is y/n?”

“Uh, yeah… this is?”

“I’m calling from the animal clinic! You brought the lovely red-tail hawk in yesterday?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry I didn’t expect you to call so soon!”

“No worries! Hope I’m not bothering. Are you okay to talk?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great! I wanted to let you know that one of the rescue centers we work with is able to take the darling in. They can have someone swing by ASAP if you like.”

“Oh, already?” you eyed the animal resting in your arm.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just- I thought it would take a few days.”

“…would you prefer to have their number? That way when you’re… ready, you can call them, and they can come by?”

You pursed your lips, suddenly unsure of yourself. You were in no position to have a pet, especially a predator… yet you found yourself reluctant to let him go. In the short time he had been there, you had laughed and smiled more than you had for a while. It was a welcome disruption to your dull life.

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

They let out a small chuckle, “Sure thing. I’ll let them know. They’ve also posted a bulletin about him, to help track down the owner.”

“Oh, that’s great. I hope they get found, he’s very… special. I’m sure he’s missed.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s doing well! Please feel free to reach out to us or the center if you have any questions or trouble.”

“Will do… thanks.”

Great. Just great. You sighed as you hung up and studied the bird nestled against your breast.

“Welp, I’m crazy. You’re stuck with me for a bit longer, hope you’re okay with that, buddy.”

He nuzzled further into you as if saying thanks for letting him stay.

“Guess if… you’re staying I should give you a name?”

He straightened at that and locked eyes, staring you down fiercely. Clearly, he found the matter very important.

You gave a nervous chuckle, “Don’t have high hopes there, I’m far from great at naming things, bud.” you paused, considering your statement. “Actually, I think I’ve already named you. How does ‘Buddy’ sound?”

He made a disgruntled noise but proceeded to bury himself back into your chest, nuzzling the fabric of your shirt, springing faintly against the fat of your breasts.

“Welp, best you get… Speaking of you getting things, you’re due for your next batch of meds.”

He was less than pleased with the reminder of the foul-tasting substance.

The following morning you woke not to your alarm, but with a start to the sound of someone talking in your living room, the sound seeping in through the ajar door. Your heart raced with panic as you attempted to make sense of the sound. Slipping from the bed and grabbing the wooden bat you kept at your bedside for such events, you approached the door, glancing around the frame to see who dared to enter your abode. Mind whirling, you expected to see masked figures looting your home or-

Buddy! The bird had been asleep on the table when you had gone to bed. What if they hurt him during their looting!

Forgoing your own safety, you rushed out into the open area, only lit by the dim morning sun through the shaded balcony glass door. You reached the couch, brandishing the bat, ready to swing in a moment’s notice. Surveying the room, you found the source of the talking – the television.

Buddy was perched on the couch, the remote next to him, staring at the television. It was on a news channel, going over the latest hero and villain activities.

“What the hell!” you screeched, lowering the bat.

The bird’s head snapped towards you, having not heard your approach. He reacted at your appearance, flapping his free wing and giving a surprised cry.

“You scared the living hell out of me - again! Stop doing that, my heart can only take so much!” You reached for the remote. “How the hell did you even turn that on? I was sure I left it on the ta-” you cut off, reeling your hand back as Buddy jumped atop the device, blocking you from it.

You blinked, confused, “Are… you watching that?”

He squawked in confirmation.

“You are not a normal bird.”

He seemed happy at your realization, fluffing his feathers and stepping off the remote, laying down next to it, and returning his gaze to the screen.

“Whatever, I’m up now. Guess I’ll make breakfast.”

He gave an excited chirp at the suggestion.

“Yeah, yeah. Yours too.”

You joined the fowl on the couch while you ate, giving him another bowl of boiled meat – which he ate disgruntledly.

“I’ll have to swing by the store after work, see how much discount meat I can get you… wonder if the pet store will take back a barely used bag of feed…”

You were already getting used to speaking to the bird, speaking aloud your random thoughts as you went about your morning routine. Cleaning up, giving him his meds, prepping his food and water for while you were gone. You were enjoying the addition he was adding to your day and being able to talk to someone as well – especially since he did provide a type of reply. You enjoyed it so much so that you were reluctant when your alarm for work went off.

“Back to the grind,” you sighed, trudging to your bedroom closet to change out of your nightshirt. “ Was a bit chilly yesterday, should get my spare jacket.” You hadn’t gotten a chance to wash the one from the night you saved Buddy, and you weren’t eager to use a bloody jacket. You spotted the spare folded on the closet shelf, resting under a box.

You pulled the clothing free while doing your best to keep the box in place – your best wasn’t good enough, since just as you were sure it was free, it snagged, and the box joined in the escapade. You tumbled to the ground as the object hit you, its contents partially falling out onto you and the floor.

“Owww,” you whined, rubbing your butt. After regaining yourself, you examined the mess you had created and instantly regretted trying to retrieve the spare jacket, your eyes tearing up at the box’s contents.

It was just a random assortment of objects, all-male ordinated – a razor, a pair of jeans and two t-shirts, a hairbrush, some socks, and other miscellaneous items.

“Dammit…” you mumbled, trying to hold back sobs. With everything that had happened the past two days you had actually forgotten the damn thing was in your closet for the first time in months.

Your self-pity was interrupted as you felt something soft press against your arm. You looked over and saw Buddy standing beside you looking concerned, the sound from the tumble must have drawn him into your room to check on you.

“I’m okay… I’m not crying ‘cause I’m hurt. Promise,” you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your nerves, and started collecting the fallen items back into the box. “It’s a bit silly to cry over.”

He tilted his head in question.

“It’s just some stuff my ex left behind. I should just burn it…” Maybe because you were so used to just saying whatever you wanted to the hawk, you kept following the train wreck of your thoughts, “He cheated on me but somehow worked it to him being the one to break up when I confronted him. I should be glad he’s gone but… here I am, pining over some asshole and his discarded laundry.” Despite your best effort, you started sobbing, “How pathetic am I-”

Buddy pressed into your arm once again, cutting the tirade, and gave a small coo.

You pulled the bird into your arms, holding him close and pressing your face into him, your tears rolling over the water-proof feathers. You stayed like that for a time, buddy not even trying to pull from your embrace. You let him slip from you, your sobs dying away. You felt tired and wanted to crawl back in bed, but work was waiting.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, rubbing Buddy’s cheek. You finished gathering the items, stood, and stared at the box.

Just throw it away.

Your grip trembled as you held it.

Get rid of it.

You slid the box back onto the shelf.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured, glancing away from the concerned hawk.

Time slipped by after that, a new routine being built around your new roommate. You had moments of conflict due to his strange personality, but overall, you enjoyed having him in your home. Even with the dip into your finances that he caused, between meat and clinic visits. Another interesting addition to your day was how your mornings always had a little surprise from him. Mainly him doing something to jolt you awake since he seemed to be a very early riser.

This morning, however, had one of your preferred surprises, your eyelids felt heavy as your brain booted up and registered the light snoring that was taking place next to you. You blinked, looking around for the source, and found the fowl resting next to you, on his back feet in the air and head lolling, on an open pillow.

Giving a sheepish grin, you watched him for a bit, seeing him twitch in his sleep. You had come to terms with his abnormal behavior, your research into the breed showing he did not act like other red-tails or even just other birds in general.

“Buddy,” you purred, reaching over and shaking a talon lightly.

His eyes popped open and then blinked slowly, fighting away his own sleepiness. He turned over and quivered, his feathers fluffing and head jerking.

“Morning.” You giggled, enjoying the show, before turning in the bed and burying your face into the pillow, reluctant to get up. Looking back at him, you saw him observing you intently. Just another thing you’d gotten used to, the way he seemed to examine you up and down with a focused gaze randomly.

You gave a smirk, peering back through your messy hair before pushing yourself up to sit on your knees and stretching your arms up above your head, your joints popping satisfactorily. As always with your nightshirt, it raised with the motion, exposing your thighs to view.

Buddy rolled as you stretched, your movement causing him to be displaced from his resting place, his head landing softly against those thighs as they cushioned the tumble.

“That wasn’t convincing at all,” you laughed, tugging the shirt to the side to lock eyes with the endearing avian. He was very affectionate, finding any way he found to cuddle with you when possible. With a yawn, you checked your phone for the time and saw a reminder on the lock screen. “Oh right! We better get ready; we have the vet appointment today. Your wing should be all healed up!”

As always, the hawk gave a human-like reaction, quickly straightening himself and giving an excited shriek at the announcement.

Buddy wouldn’t stop extending his freed wing as he rested on the perch at the front desk while you signed the paperwork for the visit.

“Calm down, you,” you laughed, glad to see him so happy.

“So, you really plan to keep him?” The nurse asked, grinning at the sight of the overjoyed bird as well.

“I mean… his owner hasn’t been found and he’s not a wild bird. I’ve gotten used to him, so it just seemed best?”

“I think it’s great. He’s lucky you found him. Uh, do you have a leash?”

Buddy flapped and shrieked in disapproval at the remark.

“I saw bird leashes were a thing, but he’s so well behaved I wasn’t sure I should get one?”

“I get your reasoning, but he could fly off, he’s already gotten lost and in trouble once.”

“That’s true…” you looked Buddy over, seeing his hunched shoulders, “Do I need to leash you, bud?”

With a quick flap, he glided off the perch and onto your shoulder, being careful not to cut you with his talons as he steadied himself.

“Wow, you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“I think we’ll be okay.” You decided, scratching Buddy’s chin.

Finishing off the paperwork you exited the clinic, the hawk still perched on your shoulder, sure you were an interesting sight for those you passed. You walked with an eye on your phone, swiping through various avian products.

“We should get you proper stuff, perches, and such, for the apartment. We’ve been making do with the makeshift setup, but now that you’re staying we should-”

He shifted harshly, drawing your attention to him. He was staring intensely down the street, where a store had various televisions on display in a window, an assortment of shows airing with captions turning on. You sighed and approached the display, knowing the bird’s inclination for news. Sure enough, his preferred channel was airing on one of the displays.

“Just for a minute, okay?” you stated, returning to your shopping as he stared at the moving pictures. You kept your word and started to move shortly after, but Buddy gave a loud shriek in protest when you did so, his eyes still focused on the display. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” You looked at the screen, finally paying attention to the content.

“-the villain has been in a coma since the intense battle with Hawks, so he has yet to be able to answer any questioning as to the whereabouts of the missing number two hero and the other heroes that disappeared-”

You let out a surprised hiss as you felt Buddy’s talons dig into your shoulder, it didn’t hurt thanks to the padding of your coat, but it caught you off guard after how careful he always was. However, before you could reprimand the action, he launched himself and flapped his wings quickly, taking off into the air.

You stared at the hawk as he soared, at first impressed by the way he moved so easily after just getting the wrapping removed, then distraught as you saw him continue to fly away.

“…Buddy?”

——Tag List ——

(Please check this post if you would like to be included!)

@thisisthehardestthing @cheeriecherry @mindninjax

#hawks #keigo takami #hawks bnha #hawks x reader #mha #bnha #part one #tw: animal violence #tw: blood #just story in this one #the smut will come I promise #my sister is a bird person #she helped me with this #humor #the princess and the hawk

148 notes · View notes

wille-zarr · 4 years ago

Text

The Mandalorian: "Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Six ~ “Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated T for language; violence; angst

word count: 8.1k

chapter summary: you must make a challenging decision concerning your arrangement with din, but all is threatened when old dangers arise

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: uwu

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Six: “Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

“Tell you what, Starlight-” your father’s eyes twinkle down at you- “there’s no better place in the galaxy to make a tough decision than on the back of a speeder bike, going faster than your mother would ever approve.”

Great advice, Papa.

Too bad that advice is about to get you killed.

Though, you do have a slight suspicion that when he told you “fast”, he never meant quite this fast.

But then again, knowing your dad, maybe he did.

“Oh-” you reach up, wiggling your goggles down into position- “blast it.” Gritting your teeth tightly together, you accelerate the speeder bike, shooting over the dried desert landscape of Arvala-7.

The cool evening air prickles the exposed parts of your face like a thousand sharp needles sinking into your skin, but the discomfort doesn’t distract you. You stare straight ahead, focused only on the tangled thoughts rolling back and forth in your brain in a jumbled, glued-together mess.

“Running away? You’re good at that.”

Faster. Faster.

If you could just go faster, maybe the voices would fall behind, leave you alone.

You lean forward on the accelerator, pushing the speeder bike to its absolute limits. The old bike begins to vibrate under your body, rattling as if threatening to blow apart in a thousand pieces. If you were still that adrenaline-seeking teenager, you might would take that as a challenge.

But hey, you’ve cheated death this long. It’d be a shame to lose the game at this point…

That and Cara’s the last person you’d want to upset if you destroy her bike.

You notice a cliff-wall looming in the horizon, rapidly approaching at the speed with which you are traveling. With a sharp hiss, you slam on the brakes, bracing, squeezing your eyes tightly together as you spin around in tight circles.

One…

Two...

Three…

Four spins.

You stop.

You don’t fight the grin that stretches across your face.

“Banthaspit! Hell yeah.” You peel the goggles off your face, harshly rubbing your eyes with a dust-encrusted hand. “If I wasn’t forced into hiding, the Keolith racing circuit wouldn’t know what hit it!” you snort.

With a sigh, you kick one leg over the speeder bike, positioning your body sideways on the seat. You force yourself to slowly exhale, shivering as all of the tension pent up within you tiptoes its way up your spine, releasing out into the fresh open air.

A temporary relief. Your stress rushes back in droves to fill the void.

“All wound up. You’re all wound up,” you mutter under your breath, “for no reason!”

With a groan, you flop backwards … wildly flailing your arms as you fall back against the open air.

“YIPE!” you squeak, sliding right off the bike and landing back on the ground below with a sharp oof. Groaning pathetically, you rest your head back against the dirt.

Well, at least no one saw that.

You’re not sure how long you lie that way. Not long enough, if your opinion means anything. Eventually, you gather enough motivation to crack one eye open and grimace up at the darkening sky.

All of this- this melodrama! All because some Mandalorian warrior pinned you to the ground? With his body?!

…

Oh, shit.

A Mandalorian kicked your ass and called you a brat.

You’re done for.

Your face explodes into flames. You know yourself all too well… You crave the mysterious, the exciting… all of which your proximity to the curious, cryptic Mandalorian has brought you more than an abundance of.

You can no longer ignore the red flags ding-ding-dinging in your head.

Hell.

It would probably be a… bad idea… to travel in close quarters with the Mandalorian. Not with your overactive imagination working overtime hours. Besides, when you made the deal to travel with Din, you had no idea a child would be involved.

Those dark, piercing eyes of the Mandalorian’s son appear before you, along with a pang, a squeeze in your chest.

If…if a bounty hunter tracked you down on the Razor Crest- the child… he could be hurt and…and-

Grinding your teeth, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands until you are sure you must be drawing blood.

No. Never again.

You need to talk with Din.

You know what you must do.

-------

Pulling back up to the homestead, you are met by a herd of stampeding whomp rats, also known as the Sorgan children.

“She’s back!”

“Hello!”

“We’ve been looking for you!”

“Whoa, whoa-” you toss your hands up- “One at a time, will ya?” You crack a grin. “I haven’t been this popular since a Hutt promised me his eternal love.”

“Huh?”

“What’s a Hutt?”

“Ah,” you laugh, kicking your leg over the speederbike, “I’m only joking.”

“Look, Ms. Cara, she’s back with your speederbike!”

You tear your eyes upwards, inwardly cringing as you watch Cara approaching.

“Um, look, Cara,” you laugh, rubbing your arm up and down. “I-I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your bike, um…”

Cara crosses her arms, eyeing you with a pointed expression.

Oh, Hutt fudge.

“You wouldn’t hurt me in front of children!” You bounce back, placing the bike between you and Cara, ignoring the children’s shrieks of laughter.

Cara takes a few steps forward, inspecting her speederbike with a few brief glances. “I suppose it’s still in one piece… You sure left in a hurry.” Rubbing her hands across the handlebars, she continues inspecting the bike. “Didn’t have a chance to finish your self-defense lesson with Mando.”

Maker!

For the love of all that is holy, Cara-

“Wait-” she smirks- “are you blushing?”

KARKING HELLS!

“I’m. not. blushing.” you hiss through your teeth.

“She’s turning RED!” Birdie shrieks.

“But why?” Winta asks. “I’m confused.”

“I’m not!” Your voice cracks along with your composure.

Blast you, Cara!

If Cara wasn’t capable of twisting you up like a Bothanian Pastry, you’d have some choice words right about now.

“It’s red from-from racing this bike against the wind- is all!” You knit your brows and cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Come on, kids-” you wave your hand to the side, your strained voice giving yourself away- “I’m… I’m sure your parents don’t want you out after dark.”

“I’m so confused.” Winta sighs, trotting towards the huts with the five other children marching along behind her.

Birdie pauses behind the rest. Finally, he twists around and races back to you. Throwing his arms around your legs, he grins up at you with his adorable little missing-tooth smile, turning your heart to mush.

“See you at the bonfire!” As quickly as he threw his arms around you, he spins around and dashes away.

“Bonfire?” You raise an eyebrow at Cara.

“Yeah,” she sits back against the seat of her bike, checking over the instrument gages. “The villagers’ idea.” Cara flashes you a quick glance. “They always do this when a visitor arrives, me or Din. I do have to say, for a bunch of country folk-” Cara smirks- “they sure know how to have fun.”

Celebration. Stars, you haven’t attended a party of any kind in months! Parties were usually a thing of business for you on Nar Shaddaa. A way to make connections, play politics, earn some extra cash- whatever. The point is, they were rarely enjoyable. At times, they were downright miserable.

Maybe that association will change tonight. Yes. Yes, you will have fun; you will relax. No use getting all worked up over the conversation you must have with Din tonight…

Which is easier said than done.

“Well,” you sigh, throwing both hands on your hips and meandering away, “guess I better get cleaned up then.” You let your eyes sweep the homestead yard, noticing, sure enough, a bonfire is being constructed several yards away from Kuill’s hut. But more importantly-

No sign of Mando, thank the stars.

You aren’t prepared to face him just yet after that, um, tussle earlier…

“Sorry about giving you a hard time.”

You twist back around at Cara’s voice.

“At least, I’m sorry for doing it in front of little ears.” Cara shrugs, but she is hardly hiding the amusement etched in her eyes.

You snort. “Don’t lie.” Rolling your eyes, you spin around, marching determinedly towards Kuill’s hut. “See you tonight.”

-------

“YIPE!”

“Look, I’m sorry!”

“Fu-… uh, um, I mean, stars!” You clutch your scalp, wincing against the relentless barrage of brush strokes. You hear a snort from behind where you sit.

“You don’t exactly sound sorry, Omera.” You tilt your head backwards to find Omera, a hand on one hip, a brush in the other, shaking her head in defeat.

“I think the easiest option-” Omera angles her head to the side- “would be to just cut out the tangled bits.”

“Kriff,” you whisper under your breath, absent-mindedly tightening the bathrobe Omera lent you around your waist. “Well, still better than another twenty minutes of this torture.” You pout your lips like a child.

“Why is it so tangled?”

Twisting around in the chair, your eyes find Winta in the corner of the room, braiding her hair with a dark green ribbon.

“Eh-” you toss her a smirk- “I don’t think you’re ready to hear about Taek just yet.”

“Hmf.” Omera grunts. “Would this Taek story also explain why one side of your hair is a good bit shorter than the other?” You feel Omera’s fingers rake through the ends of your hair, tugging when they reach a tangle. “Look at that! It’s a good three inches shorter!”

A bright grin stretches across your face. “No, that’s a different story altogeth- OUCH!”

“Sorry!” The amusement in Omera’s voice is thinly veiled. “Get my scissors, Winta.”

“Bloody hells, Omera!” you hiss under your breath. “Why does everyone here take such enjoyment in tormenting me?” You lower your brow when you are met with a melody of snickers.

“What,” Omera laughs, “have the children been giving you a tough time? Or Cara? Din?”

Din.

You could really use your own Beskar helmet right about now. You feel the entirety of the blood in your body blast up to your face, radiating warmth at just the mere mention of his name.

It’s like the longer you avoid him, the more embarrassed you grow.

Tucking your face under the collar of the bathrobe, you are met with the sharp rap of scissors against your head.

“Hey!”

“Head up. Do you want straight hair?”

“Not if you’re going to keep doing that!” You crinkle your nose. “Have you even cut hair before?”

“No.”

“Maker!”

At the threat of being smacked with scissors again, you decide it is your best bet to remain perfectly still. Silently listening as Omera and Winta rattle off about what she should wear to the bonfire and what games the children could play, you feel the tension drain off your shoulders. It sounds just like a conversation you and your mother might have had once… The air grows thick, and you let your eyes slip closed, breathing deeply, imagining the room you sat in was that of your Sularian home…

A tug on your sleeve from a little hand rips you out of your reverie.

“What are you going to wear?”

“Hmm?... What? Oh.” You blink, struggling to gain back your composure. Your eyes focus in on the little face in front of you.

“Um, I guess what I always wear,” you sigh. “…Don’t have any other clothes.” A teasing smirk tickles at the corner of your mouth. “A krayt dragon ate them all up.”

Winta bursts into giggles. “It did not!”

“Nah, maybe not.”

“You could wear a dress of mine.” Omera interjects.

“Really?” Your eyes widen in delight. “Um, I- uh, could I have one with sleeves?”

Better safe than sorry… You can’t risk questions about your forearm tattoos. Besides, if

Cara and Din recognized them… things would turn, no doubt, a wee bit awkward.

“Of course! And just in case you wanted to-” Omera’s voice takes on a knowing tone- “Din and Cara will be heading into the nearest outpost tomorrow to buy up supplies before Cara heads off.” Her voice softens. “You could go along with them and buy anything you nee-”

“Blaster,” you yank around in the chair, ignoring the yelp of frustration from Omera. “Need one like-” you frown- “yesterday.”

“Fine, fine.” Omera lowers her brows. “Now, please, could you just keep your head straight?”

“Haven’t I been?”

-------

You step out of the protective darkness of Kuill’s home, grinning brightly to discover the homestead yard bounding with life. The flames of the bonfire dance, bobbing back and forth from one log to another, casting a flickering golden haze over everything in its vicinity. Chairs and colorful blankets are spread out, circling the fire. Smiling, you watch with delight as the children race around underfoot, their parents shooing them away from the tables overflowing with food.

Speaking of food, the wafting scent of it carries along with the light nighttime breeze, triggering your stomach into growling like a Rancor. With a wistful sigh, you begin to walk forward.

But, oh dear.

To get to the food, you must pass by Kuill, Cara, and Din, who’s standing against the wall of a hut, his armor gleaming reflected golden light. You don’t think they’ve noticed you… yet.

Stars, stars, stars! You haven’t prepared a mask for this. You aren’t ready to face him!

Gulping a deep breath of air, you rip your eyes away, pretending to be otherwise occupied with the starry sky.

Blast it all! How could you have been so manipulative, so charismatic on Nar Shaddaa and yet fail so miserably now?

Damn, you’re out of practice!

Carefree.

Confident.

Yeah, that’s what you’ll be. With a sharp nod of the head, you settle for a self-assured expression, hoping it’d be a solid enough cover, at least strong enough to resist any ribbing from Cara.

You instinctively reach up to your brow line to grab at what would have been your hat brim to lower it. Cringing, you stare at your open fingers. You really miss the protection of the hat… You feel… vulnerable without it.

Again, you’re beginning to more and more understand the appeal of a helmet.

“Wait, look!” One of the voices of the children interrupts your stride. “She looks like a mom!”

“Hey,” you snort, crossing your arms, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Your eyes widen with an unease only children with no filter are capable of eliciting as they corral you, inspecting your new appearance with an intense, terrifying scrutiny.

“Stars!” You back up a bit. “It’s just a skirt! Please be kind!” you chuckle and kneel down, ruffling up the hair of the littlest boy. Your face softens as you take note of the Mandalorian’s son peeking at you from behind the children, a bit shyer than the rest. Smiling, you give him a little wink, stealing a little grin out of him.

“Enjoy their fascination while it lasts.” Omera chuckles as she walks up, resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “They shower new people with attention until another new face shows up and steals the spotlight. Din was the favorite until you arrived.”

“So then, I stole you guys from the Mandalorian, did I? I’m cooler than a Mandalorian!” You chuckle with the kids as you stand back up. You tighten the knot on the front of your blouse, uncomfortable with a sudden sensation of being watched.

You know, you can just feel, that the Mandalorian is staring at you.

Oh hells.

“But-” Birdie frowns, tugging on your skirt- “you can’t fight in that!”

“Fight?” You jerk your head back, trying to make sense of his words. “You planning to fight me or something?”

Giggles.

“No, Kelsa saw you with Cara. Said she beat you up. We all wanted to watch.”

“Yeah… well.” You feel your cheeks flame when a bark of laughter reaches your ears.

“Cara!” you shout, spinning around on your heel and staring daggers in her direction.

“Sorry!”

You are about to shoot off a snotty reply when your eyes are drawn, magnetized to the singeing glare of the Mandalorian’s visor. You instantly shut your mouth.

He stares you down, arms crossed in a relaxed manner, as he leans up against the wall beside where Cara sits. You suddenly feel very, very small.

Oh… Stars.

You frown at Din, shifting your eyes away from him. You immediately slip back into your carefully crafted persona, shaking off your unease.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been much of a fighter.” You twist around and face the children. “I’m… not very strong, much like you lot.” You sigh, pointing a finger at yourself.

You carefully tiptoe through your words. “I’ve busted my nose, broken bones, dislocated my shoulder-” you motion to each of these areas- “trying to fight with these.” Lifting both of your hands up, you clench them into fists.

Feeling a sly smile tickling at the corner of your mouth, you continue. “I think you’ll find the best fighter-” you let the smile grow- “uses this.” Pointing at your head, you chuckle and cross your arms.

“That’s fine and all-” Birdie frowns- “but I don’t see how your head could defeat the Mandalorian’s rocket dart things in a fight.”

“Rocket… darts?” You gulp. The things he hides in that armor... You steal a glance over at Din. His head is angled in that curious manner, watching your interaction with the children with great interest. You tear your gaze away, fearing your face would warm if you stared any longer.

“She means using your smarts, silly!” Winta groans.

“She is correct.” The new voice in the conversation belongs to Kuill. Grunting with exertion, he hobbles along with his cane to join the circle. The children immediately fall silent, listening reverently to the wise Ugnaught.

“Fighting isn’t everything.” Your face grows solemn with the respect that Kuill seems to elicit anytime he speaks. “Sometimes,” he grunts, “the most dangerous power… is held by the smallest among us.”

The way everyone sneaks glances with each other, you can’t help but feel everyone is in on a secret behind Kuill’s words. Discomforted, you clear your throat, letting your lazy outer rim accent slide forward.

“Gotta secret weapon, Kuill?”

Kuill’s chuckle is interrupted by a frowning Birdie.

“Maybe…” Birdie whines. “But we still wanted to watch a fight.”

You snort. “Stars, these kids are bloodthirsty.”

“Maybe if we asked politely, children,” Kuill grunts, “the Mandalorian would showcase some of his fighting prowess for us.”

The children burst into pleas and cheers, turning every ounce of their attention to tormenting Din into obliging them.

“It would be-” Kuill motions his cane at Din- “our honor to observe.”

Flopping his head back against the wall, the Mandalorian stares up at the sky. You bite back a grin when you hear him release a heavy, long-suffering sigh, detectable even at a distance.

“Stand back.”

The children and villagers fall silent, crowding together, as he shifts forward, stalking away from the building. Only the heavy clank, clank of his Beskar armor is audible, echoing in the thin night air. Everyone watches in anticipation, curious as to what the Mandalorian has in mind.

Plopping down on a blanket spread out on the ground, you cross your legs underneath yourself. A light dusting of movement against your hand startles you forward a bit. You gasp lightly, mouth falling open, as the Mandalorian’s son, the baby, crawls up beside you.

“Oh. Hello,” you chirp, taking his little three-fingered hand into your palm. “Um, ready to watch your Papa show off?”

He responds with a giggle.

Those large expressive eyes… stars! You want to turn into a pool of sugary liquid right here, right on this blanket.

Sweet face.

Sweet laugh.

The dagger twists in your heart. Grasping onto the necklace around your neck, you swallow hard, squeezing your eyes tightly together before opening them again.

You can’t think about her right now… not without losing it.

As if sensing your turmoil, the baby’s ears droop to the side.

“Don’t mind me,” you mumble. You take the baby into your arms, squeezing lightly. “L-let’s watch.”

You watch as Din freezes a good distance from the bonfire. “Cara,” he shouts with a wave.

You bite your lip, bursting with excitement when you see he has that big-ass rifle of his at the ready. He rests it pointing downwards, angling his head towards Cara as he crosses his gloved hands over the butt of the rifle.

You snicker.

Look at him.

Trying so hard to look bored. You know good and well he is thrilled to show off for everyone. You’ve seen his bathroom. Any man that uses as many hair conditioners as him would have to be a secret show-off.

Not to mention his sparkling, eye-catching Beskar.

“Diva,” you snicker under your breath.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the start of the show.

“Toss!”

Cara heaves back, launching something small and round into the air.

Din pulls back.

Rifle to shoulder.

Aim.

Blast.

A thousand sparkling, rainbow-colored lights rain down out of the night sky from the explosion, just like fireworks. You passively join the clapping and cheering, smirking to yourself as the Mandalorian continues raining sparkling shots in the sky as quickly as Cara can throw them.

You glance downwards, sharing a knowing look with the baby.

Yup.

Dad’s definitely a show-off.

You think he agrees.

After several minutes of this display, Din has adequately appeased the children’s lust for excitement and entertainment. Omera and the other two pairs of parents shoo the children towards the awaiting food. You watch from a distance as Din unloads his gun, striding towards Cara.

With a sigh, you stand, holding the baby against your chest, smiling softly when Winta motions to take him.

“I’ll take him to Momma.” Winta chirps. “I can feed him!”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. Pretty sure I had his stomach growling,” you chuckle, throwing Winta and the baby a quick wink.

You clasp your hands tightly together behind you and walk over to the side of Kuill’s hut shrouded in dark shadow. A longing smile faintly brushes across your lips as you watch the commotion centered around the tables of food. Sighing wistfully, you lean your shoulder up against the wall of the hut.

This is the closest you’ve been to recreating your childhood peace in years…

There’s a part of you that wants to ask if you could hang around for a bit... But the child you used to be on those snow-covered mountains is long-gone. You cannot replace what you have lost, what’s been taken.

Besides, you would only bring danger to these people if you stayed.

You have to move on.

The clank, clank of metal rips you out of your deep introspection. You spin around on your heel, unease building in your chest as the Mandalorian strides towards you, his rifle resting carelessly across his arms.

Okay. Okay. Don’t blush. Um, just… try not think about him on top of you.

Wait, that sounded bad. KRIFF. Now you’re surely blushing!

QUICK. SABBAAC FACE.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to focus on the present. As he moves closer, you didn’t need to see his face to know that a smug expression graced his face. You could see it in his stride.

Smirking, you cross your arms and lift your chin at him.

“Not too shabby, Din.” You raise an eyebrow when he stops to stand beside you, letting his weapon flip to rest the end of it on the ground. “You handle that big-ass rifle pretty well, I’d say.”

He grunts, rolling his shoulders forward, only enhancing his intimidating presence that much further. Leaning against the weapon, he tilts his head sideways to stare down at you.

“Pulse rifle,” Din rumbles, amusement lacing his tone. “And as I said before, you handled my rifle pretty well yourself, Ka’r’ika.”

“But certainly-” you lower your eyebrows- “not to a Mandalorian’s standards.”

“Nope.” He jerks his head to the side.

“Ah well!” You sigh and throw your arms out. “Well, then, were my fighting skills at least up to Mandalorian standards?” You bite your lip to resist the smirk tickling at the corners of your mouth.

A deep, raspy chuckle slips out from underneath his helm. He leans over you as he walks past.

“Depends on which Mandalorian you ask.”

Oh.

Oh Maker!

MAKER!

TACTICAL ERROR!

Slapping a hand on your forehead, you spin around to rush away from the hut, deeper into the hidden darkness as you berate yourself for mindlessly flirting yet. again. You would have run off to escape again, but the wafting food lures you into turning around and staying.

That, and you’re not about to steal Cara’s bike again.

With no Mando in sight, you grab a bowl of stew. Sneaking over to an unoccupied blanket beside Omera and Cara, you curl your legs up under yourself…

…And you practically bury your nose in the bowl to hide your face when Din sits beside you to be near his son. The baby gleefully reaches his little arms out for his father who takes over feeding him.

Kriff! How could this evening get any more awkward!

“So, tell me,” Cara asks, “why’d you decide to leave Nar Shaddaa?”

You drop your spoon, coughing as you choke on the stew.

“OH-” cough- “I, uh, you know-” cough- “got… um-” cough- “…tired of it.”

“Really?”

“…Really.”

Wow. That had to be the lamest lie you’ve ever told.

Cara stares at you, mouth tight as if considering whether or not to prod you further. Din is leaning sideways, occupied with his son, but you know good and well he is listening to every word.

You return Cara’s stare, unflinching, daring her to question you further. You’ll lie much better now that you’re prepared, thank you very much.

“Nar Shaddaa?”

You have never been more grateful for an interruption! You shift your eyes over to Omera.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

You snort, perhaps a little harsher than you intended.

“Yeah, well-” you pretend to be occupied with something in your stew- “no surprise. A lady such as yourself would never work there.” You place your bowl down and tuck your knees up under your chin. “Hutt and syndicate casinos… Enough said.”

“Oh.”

You feel a bit guilty for coming on so strongly in response to a harmless statement. You feel responsible to lighten the mood, show Omera you aren’t upset. Shaking your head, you flash a manufactured grin. “Stars, you should be grateful to not know what Nar Shaddaa is like… or wow!” You pretend to gag. “The Hutts!”

“I’ll drink to that.” Cara shrugs, swigging back something the Sorgan villagers called “Oriot Juice” that smelled suspiciously of alcohol.

“Cara…” Omera chides.

“What?”

Leaning back on your elbows, you chuckle. You begin mentally drawing away, leaving Omera and Cara to their fussing.

“What did you do there?”

You rip your eyes to the right, into the unreadable visor of the Mandalorian.

“You said something about… dealing cards?”

“Uh, yeah.” You blink, a bit taken aback. “For a short bit. I- uh- mostly performed.” You really hope he doesn’t prod for more details.

He turns his head away from you, and you could have sworn you heard him mumble something under his breath.

You need to shift the topic, fast.

“I sure do miss singing though.” You flash Din a cheeky grin. “All the attention, all on me.”

He makes a noise.

“That would be in character for you.”

You stick your tongue out at him for that. “Anyway, that guitar I brought off from Taek?” You smile slyly. “Let’s just say, through some creative finagling, I ‘acquired’ it hoping to sing on the streets to earn some cash.”

Your grin plummets into a scowl. “Let’s just say that it didn’t pan out.” You cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Cheap bastards,” you grumble.

The Mandalorian laughs, a deep, hearty sound.

You blink, stunned by this victory.

A laugh! Not a chuckle, you pried a full-on laugh from the stoic warrior!

Din leans in towards you, pulling you out of your elation.

“Well, we aren’t much of an audience,” he rasps, voice grainy through the vocoder, “but we’d be better spectators than what Taek provided.”

You beam. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t respond, just leans over on his side, his son tucked in beside him asleep.

You clasp your hands together. “I need my guitar!”

He looks in the direction of the Razor Crest. “Take my key unlo-”

“Nah, don’t need to. I grabbed the guitar out of the Razor Crest earlier today.”

He stares.

“But it was…”

“Yeah?”

“Locked.”

“Yeah.”

“…How?”

You blink.

“When I said I didn’t have any skills?”

He stares.

“I actually have a few…”

“…and you really should upgrade the Crest’s security system.”

…

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

-------

You can’t believe your voice or feet or both haven’t given out!

Cara was right, these Sorganians know how to have a damn good party. When you provided the guitar, the villagers responded by pulling out their own traditional instruments.

For hours, everyone (minus one stick-in-the-mud Mandalorian) danced, spun, twisted, frolicked, and skipped until no one could barely move. As fun as all the rowdy dancing was, your heart felt warm, full after sharing your own traditional songs: one a love ballad and the other a lullaby in the Sularian language.

Exactly what the energized children needed to calm them down and help put them to sleep.

“Thanks again,” Omera whispers as she walks past you, carrying a conked-out baby inside the hut. “Those songs were absolutely beautiful.”

You only smile.

Watching the other parents carry their children in for bed, you can’t help but feel keenly…. bitter.

This should have been your life.

Should have been your siblings’ life.

Should have been her life.

…

Imperials, go straight to hell.

You clench your hands into tight fists.

“When you’ve lived as many years as I have-” you jump at Kuill’s voice- “you learn to recognize… patterns in behavior.”

“I-” you blink- “not sure wh-”

“Sadness. Anger. Loss. Fear.” He pauses to point his cane at you. “All I see in you. You’re on the run.”

Your jaw drops. “N-no-”

“It’s not my place to question.” Kuill, grunting, begins to move away. “I hope you find the peace… you seek.”

Was…

Was it really that obvious?!

You’re understandably shaken up after being directly called out like that by Kuill…

You… need some space.

Stalking, practically running, from the hut, you freeze mid-step, nearly falling over your own feet.

There he is, both arms resting atop the fence, helmet fixated on the stars. He almost looks heroic with the way his cape swirls around his legs in the light night breeze.

Well…

Good time as any to have that conversation with him.

With a begrudging sigh, you fidget with your hands as you quietly tiptoe up behind the Mandalorian. He does not move or make any indication that he’s aware of your presence, though you know by now that he must.

You grab on to the post next to him. Grunting, you begin scampering up the boards to try and sit on top of the fence beside him.

“Oh,” you growl, struggling to climb up it in a dress. “Blast this damn skir- OOF.”

Two firm hands grab at your waist from behind, steadying you.

“Easy, Ka’r’ika,” his voice, low, rumbles near your ear.

His grip releases.

You squeak something incoherent, your tongue tangling up on itself. “Um-” you nervously laugh as you balance sitting on top of the fence- “uh, thanks…?”

He leans his arms across the board right beside you, angling his helmet to stare up into your face.

“Go to bed.” He inclines his helmet in the direction of the hut. “You should rest.”

“Hmf.” You cluck your tongue. “Always telling me what to do. If you wanted me to leave, you shouldn’t have helped me up here.”

He lets his visor drop to face the ground, and you can’t help but hear the sigh that slips out from under his helm. Admiring the stars glittering against his Beskar, you follow Din’s line of sight as he shifts his gaze upwards.

You bite your lip, uncertain of how to broach your pressing topic at hand...

“The stars,” you stall, “are so bright here. That’s the only thing I like about living outside the city.”

You have Din’s full attention now.

“They remind me of the eka-worms back home on Sularia.” You sigh heavily, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion on your shoulders. “During the darkest, coldest part of winter, the worms would twist and weave the most breath-taking, astonishing nets of webbing, absolutely littering the trees with them until the limbs would sag under the weight.” You wave your hand through the air, re-imagining them in your mind.

A smile brushes across your lips, and you glance upwards. “In the moonlight, the webs would sparkle like stardust. Weddings, proposals, everything.” You pause. “We all wanted it done under those glistening webs.”

Your eyes finally fall back to Din, and your heart squeezes at finding him focused on your face instead of the stars.

He glances away as if considering something.

“What?” you prod.

“…How did you escape?”

You shrug your shoulders, leaning as back as far as you could without tumbling off the fence. “Would you believe I only survived the Empire’s bombardment because I was a head-strong, disobedient child?”

He didn’t answer; just continued listening to your story with full attention.

So you continue.

“I-I was twelve… Papa told me and my four siblings to run out the front door. Long story short, I went out the back.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and take a deep breath.

“Bombs dropped. I lived. They didn’t.”

Your shoulders stoop even lower, collapsing in on yourself, and you find that you don’t have the energy to continue pretending that you’re okay- that your life hasn’t always been one big… hot… mess.

“I- I found Grandpa c-coming up the mountain… to see… To find us. And- I was… I was running down it.” You cover your eyes with a hand. “He was the only f-family I had left... then he went and… died too.”

Your fault.

It was all your fault.

“Stars,” you mumble under your breath, lower lip quivering as you tighten your palms against your face.

“My family… they died, too.”

You rip your face out of your hands.

“Victims of the Clone Wars.” His voice is a whisper, barely audible.

“Well,” you sniff, roughly rubbing your eyes to hide your emotion. “I- I guess we’re not too different after all, huh?”

He shifts back on one arm, angling his body closer to yours.

“No, I suppose not.”

Maker, you feel really awful about what you’re about to bring up…

“Din, we’ve… shared a lot together in such a short time.” You purposely avoid looking his way.

You have to just say it.

“You should know that I am eternally grateful for the kindness you’ve shown me.” At that, you force yourself to face him. “I’d still be stuck on Taek if it wasn’t for you…”

His visor is glued to your eyes.

“Mando, I’m…I’m really eager to get to Keolith.”

Liar.

“So, I’m… leaving with Cara tomorrow.” You are taken aback at how hard it is to form the words, the pain squeezing in your chest. “Then I’ll jump on a transport.”

Silence.

“If… that’s what you wish.”

Even through the modulation, you can sense the confusion, the hesitation lacing his tone. Stars, you can’t even bear to look at him! How can you explain, make him understand you have no choice? His son’s safety, your own stupid overactive imagination… No, it just wouldn’t be a good idea to travel together.

“I’m sure you’ll be thrilled anyway to get me out of your ship,” you mumble, awkwardly laughing as you push at his shoulder.

He shifts, stepping back away from the fence, away from you.

He inclines his head to the side.

“Come here.”

Oh- OOF!

His gloves curl their way around your waist, and you slap your hands onto his pauldrons for balance. He drops your feet down to the ground, but his hands remain secured, glued to your waist.

“Go to bed,” he rasps. “You need sleep.”

His hands abandon your waist, but the warmth, the heat left behind burns long into the night.

-------

“Hey!” you shout out Kuill’s window. “Wait up!”

Cursing under your breath, you continue tucking your shirt down into your pants as you stumble out the door. Standing beside the two speeder bikes, Cara and Din watch, arms crossed, as you approach. Your fingers fumble around the brim of you hat, lowering it down till your eyes are practically hidden from sight.

Hell, you feel lousy. You hardly got any sleep after the previous night’s conversation with Din. You know he is just another random acquaintance, the same you are to him, but…

Oh, kriffing fine.

You like him.

You’re… you’re going to miss him.

Ah well, you’ll just have to be sure and annoy him a little extra today as a parting gift.

“I need a ride to town.” You stop and throw your hands on your hips. “Gotta buy a few things.”

“Sure,” Cara lazily responds, throwing a leg over her bike. “More the merrier, right?”

You grin and nod. “Thanks.” You throw your leg over the seat of the second bike, flicking on various switches.

“This is going to b- HEY!”

A hand grabs your shoulder, sliding you roughly back away from the controls.

“Hold up,” the Mandalorian grumbles. “I don’t think so.”

“Din!” You swat at his hand. “Stop, no! Let me drive! You drive like an old man!”

“I mean, he could feasibly be one, for all we know.”

“Cara-”

“Din!” you growl, tumbling off the opposite side of the bike. You leap up to your feet, but it’s already too late. Din is settled down in front of the controls, watching you with his helmet inclined to the side.

He places a hand on his thigh and jerks his helmet towards the open seat behind him.

“Fine.” You stick your tongue out at him and spin around on your heel. “Then I’m riding with Car-”

Cara blasts off, leaving a trail of dust wafting behind her.

Slowly, you turn back around.

Din shoves out a hand, motioning again to the empty speeder bike seat behind him.

“Kriff it,” you grumble, throwing your leg back across the seat. You let your body slip down, molding itself completely to the back of his armor. You reach up, lowering your goggles over your eyes.

“Fine,” you bark, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Let’s ride.”

He kicks the bike into gear, and with a satisfying rev of the engine, away you blast into the desert horizon.

Definitely faster than expected.

“Guess you took my ribbing to heart,” you think with a grin. You let your arms relax their grip around his midsection, resisting the urge to throw your hands up and feel the passing breeze.

His hand grabs yours, pulling it back tighter around himself.

“Fine!” you shout over the noise. “Mother hen.”

He releases your hand, and you sigh, snuggling down into his cape, relaxed in the knowledge that you are safe for a few more days, as long as you are with him.

-------

Din and Cara park out of the way in a side alley where the bikes should hopefully remain unnoticed and undisturbed. You walk ahead of them, staring up and down the main street of the outpost. You lift your goggles off your head, reading over the various shop store signs.

Ah, yes, you see exactly what you need.

“Cara, Mando!” You turn back around. “Meet you back at the bikes later!”

“Stay out of trouble.”

You flash Din a grin.

“Always.”

Your first stop is to pick out a few new garments to replace those that flew away for a permanent vacation with the smuggler’s crew. You’ll wait until you’ve actually settled on Keolith to replace everything, but a few undergarments, blouses, pants, and gloves, and you are good to go for the time being. You stuff these goods away in your side satchel.

It… feels strange to own things again.

Next stop: weapons.

With a downright mischievous grin on your face, you enter the shop like a kid in a candy store.

“How can I help you?”

“Yeah, I need a blaster pistol, preferably something small but still packs a punch.”

You pause, eyeing something out of the corner of your eye.

“And a vibroblade.”

Oh, hell yeah.

-------

Walking back in the direction of the speeder bikes, you turn the vibroblade over in your hands.

“Maker! This thing’s sick.” You try twirling it in your hand, giving it a toss, cringing as it flies sideways. “Um, no one saw that,” you mumble, picking it back up. “Guess I’ll need a little, uh, practice.”

Lost in your own amusement, you march around the corner into the alleyway, focused only on the viroblade in your hands.

“Hopefully, Cara and Din won’t tak-”

Wait.

Hold up.

Who are…?

“Hey!” you shout, throwing a hand on your hip, “I don’t know who you are, but those are not your bikes.”

You pause, cringing inwardly. You may own a weapon again, it’s still a pretty bad idea to smart-mouth strangers…

The blue Twi’lek male and a brown-haired human female, both cloaked in black, remain motionless, leaning against the bikes with their arms crossed.

“Uh,” you hesitate mid-stride, falling dead still. “…C-can I help you?”

The two strangers share a glance.

“It’s her?”

“It’s her.”

Oh.

…

OH SHIT.

You launch backwards, hand flying to your holster, but before you have time to even think, a blaster is trained on your head.

“Drop the blade,” the woman barks. “And carefully throw that blaster aside.”

“Shitshitshit,” you hiss through your teeth while slowly, cautiously obliging the woman’s demands.

Bounty hunters. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

No, no! You can’t- you won’t go back! Not for him!

“L-look, th-this has to be a misunderstanding-”

“Listen carefully,” the woman interrupts, speaking your full name aloud. “You’re the companion to the Mandalorian?”

Mandalorian… they’re… they’re not here for you?

You blink, mouth gaped open.

Oh, bloody hells!

What has Din gotten himself into?

“I am she,” you keep your hands pressed against the thighs of your legs. “But, specifically, which Mandalorian do you refer to? I know sev-”

“Stop being cute.” She marches over, grasping your upper arm with a steel grip.

“Hey!” you yelp against the fingers digging into your flesh.

“Against the wall.”

She pushes you towards it, sending you stumbling over your own feet. You press your back as tightly as you can against the wall, shifting your eyes in all directions for any possible escape…

Oh, kriff kriff what do you do what do you do-

“Listen carefully.” The woman takes a step back, crossing her arms carefully. As you stare into the eyes of what very well could be the reason for your immediate demise, you force your breathing to even itself out.

Stay calm.

Whatever it is, you can talk your way out of it.

They want Mando, not you.

“You assisted the Mandalorian in taking something that I must have back.”

Oh karabast.

They do want you.

“Whu-? Marek?” you blurt, mouth gaping open a bit. “Marek’s datachip?”

“It’s not Marek’s,” the woman’s voice turns harsh. “Marek is but an employee of a crime syndicate…”

“…On Nar Shaddaa.”

Your blood freezes.

…

Oh.

Oh no.

This….. this is bad.

If- if they recognize you…

You have to talk your way out.

“Listen,” your voice turns firm, commanding. “I barely know the Mandalorian. I met him on Taek. I know nothing about the chip or who he stole it for.”

“None of that matters.” The woman takes a step back. You try and hide your intense relief at the space she’s given you. You can’t appear weak, not right now.

“We only wish to have it returned.”

Somehow you seriously doubt that…

“We can cut a deal.” The statement tumbles out of your mouth before you even realize what it is you’re saying.

“The chip- it’s in his ship, the Razor Crest.”

Bloody hell if you know where it is! He wouldn’t tell you blasted anything! But if you can stall these two long enough… it will give Din and Cara time to figure out what’s going on and save your ass.

“Well-” the woman raises her eyebrow- “I suppose we know where we are going then.” She motions you towards the bike. “Drive, but keep in mind-” she waves her blaster- “this will be at you back.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you snort, “just all part of the business, right?”

Right…

-------

You slow the speeder bike to a halt on the side of the Razor Crest facing away from Kuill’s homestead. Though you originally whined to Din about the distance, you are now intensely grateful the Mandalorian kept the ship anchored way far off from the homestead.

Keenly aware there’s a blaster pointed at your back, you step up to the ramp of the ship with a gulp.

Locked door, of course.

Thank the Maker you’ve already hacked the system once before. This shouldn’t take long… unless you happen to make a few little- oops!- mistakes that cost time. As you walk up the ramp, inwardly, you begin cycling through the racing, rolling thoughts clambering around in your head.

“Stars! Where are you Din? They should have come back by now, found the speeder bikes gone… I drove slower on purpose. Do they know something’s wrong? Do they think I’m pranking them? Curse my mischievous nature! I bet they think I’m pranking them!”

“What are you doing?” the man harshly demands.

“Uh, I- uh- don’t have a… key on me.” You throw your hands up. “But wait! I can hack the system- no problem!” You nervously laugh.

They both share a glance.

“Fine. Hurry.”

You turn back around, smirking to yourself.

Time for a bit of stalling.

“I just have to pull on this-” Sparks.

“Re-wire this-” More sparks.

“Punch in this-” Fire.

“Get back!” The woman snarls, clamping the panel protecting the wiring closed to stop the flames from growing.

“Get. This. Door. Open.”

“Y-yes, sure, no problem.” You fling the panel back open and start back to work.

Oh stars…

You are able to stall no more than five minutes without raising suspicion. As you step back inside the Razor Crest, you feel absolutely sick to your stomach. Having these Nar Shaddaa syndicate members enter this ship, this home… it’s violating. This ship was a place of refuge, safety after your traumatic time on Taek. And here you are- with yet another new tangled mess.

“In the cockpit,” you bark, stepping towards it. You are yanked backwards.

“He goes first. Then you. Then me.”

Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head.

You lead them up and over to the pilot’s seat, sitting down and punching on all the buttons you can find. “It should be… ahh… here it is! Oh wait, no….”

“What?” the woman snarls, clearly growing very agitated with your obvious game-playing.

“The chip! It’s gone!” You fake a gasp. “Let me check down in the hold!”

Not waiting for any commands, you practically fall down the ladder into the hold, racing towards the far wall and punching at the buttons of Din’s holo display, feigning dismay.

“Gone! It’s- he must have it on him! Oh, karking hells!”

“Hmm.” Her face hardens. “How inconvenient.”

“Sure is!” You shrug, knocking the brim of your hat back. “Look- new plan. The Mandalorian- I’m sure you heard about how he surrendered for me… at Marek’s base.” You throw your hands out to the side.

Think, think, think.

“…So, uh, you hold me hostage. He’ll come.” You nod your head. “H-he’ll give the chip over. Especially if I talk to him.”

This- this is bad.

Stars! This couldn’t get much worse!

The woman angles her head, eyes boring straight into your own. “Hmm, he probably won’t surrender for you…”

“…But maybe he will for them.”

You blink.

Them.

You spin on your heel.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Hi,” Winta waves, placing the baby down on the floor.

“Are they bad guys?” Birdie grins, pointing at the woman’s blaster.

Things just got worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: @sana-katarn @barrissoffee77 @royalhandmaidens @dracos-jedi-marvel @sinnamon-bunn @theclonewarsbrokeme @obirain @beskar-boba @disneyjedi19 @kyjoraven @orla-dahl @babe-dont @jdjdjdididisisiei

a/n: YEAH SO THE STORY REALLY RAMPS UP FROM HERE

First things first, THANK YOU TO EVERY PERSON THAT LEFT A REVIEW ON THE LAST CHAPTER! Tumblr AND Ao3! Guys, I nearly CRIED at how sweet and kind they were! It REALLY pushed me, even through the challenging past few weeks, to write for YOU GUYS.

Guys, this is only half of what I was planning for chapter 6! As usual, the chapter grew OUT OF HAND! So the other half will be included with chapter 7, which, you'll be thankful to know, is already mapped out and ready to be typed up! After all, I did end here on a cliffhanger of sorts, so it'd be cruel to make you wait too terribly long! 😉 Let's just say chapter 7 is going to be a lot of FUN with DRAMA. (I might have laughed/cried my butt off when mapping it out...) And a lot of ANGST. 👀 I see you, my angst-loving fans. I'm here to D.E.L.I.V.E.R.

GUESSING GAME: A new character will appear in chapter 7! This character has been alluded to already in the story! Let's just say, it's NOT what you're expecting! Any guesses?

Last note, about two weeks ago, I did a clean up/edit of chapter one. As it was my first chapter, I didn't yet have a grasp on the tone/voice of the story. I cleaned it up to make it fit better with the following chapters.

ANYWAY, see you soon! Please leave feedback here or on Ao3 (wille_zarr). (Shoutout to @sana-katarn for inventing the term "hutt fudge" at my request. She's out here being the real MVP.)

130 notes · View notes

stellacolletore · 4 years ago

Text

title: you're so gorgeous (i can't say anything to your face) summary: the springtime of youth has finally caught up to Chihaya-chan

It was Chitose-neesan's fault. If she had just let Chihaya watch the movie in peace, not blurting any of the weird things she said last night, then maybe she wouldn't find it hard focusing in class today. The conversation started out casually enough.

“Say, Chihaya. I’ve been wondering,” Chitose uttered nonchalantly, eyes trained on the television.

Chihaya flinched when a zombie sprang onscreen. "Hm?"

"Mashima-kun's handsome, right?"

Chihaya blinked. Even though it was Chitose's habit to ask random things out of the blue, Chihaya still gets surprised sometimes. Deciding to think nothing more out of it, she replied, "Um, yeah. He's popular at school. Girls give him tons of chocolates for Valentine's Day."

"That's not what I meant." Chitose interjected. "I'm asking you. Do you find your boyfriend attractive?"

Chihaya's eyes trailed off from the movie, connecting with her sister's. "W - what?"

Chitose was looking at her with curiosity. "I don't know if it's because you guys know each other since you were kids, but I think you're seeing Mashima-kun as if he's still your classmate in grade school. Or your karuta playmate."

Chihaya blanked. What is she getting at? Chitose sighed for the second time. Despite sounding resigned, her sister suggested, "All I'm saying is—you may want to take a good look at him." She proceeded to take a sip from her mug, attention returning to the film.

"Wouldn't want to waste all that beauty in vain."

"—haya-chan," Kanade's waving hand pulled Chihaya from her thoughts. "Is everything all right?"

Chihaya surveyed the room, finding only a few of her classmates loitering around. She must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while. Turning to her concerned friend, she gave a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Kana-chan. What brings you here?"

Kanade tilted her head. "Did you forget? We're having a group study in the library today. Everyone's already there."

“Ah,” Chihaya remarked lamely. She really should snap out of this confusion as soon as possible. It was exam week—the absolutely worst time to be worrying about anything else besides upcoming tests.

After cramming her notebooks and pens in her bag, Chihaya proceeded to move. “Let’s go, Kana-chan.”

Maybe she should just try to figure out what Chitose meant right away. It shouldn’t be that hard to do, right?

"Quit it, Chihaya. People are staring," Taichi grumbled beside her, pretending to be absorbed in his review materials.

"One minute." Chihaya insisted.

Of course, Chihaya has enough self-awareness to know how silly she must've looked to others, sitting beside Taichi with her chin propped on one arm above the long table, eyes gazing intently on his side profile. She's heard whispers from the students seated at the other tables, collectively wondering whether Ayase Chihaya was seriously flirting in front of public eye. She knew her friends have already placed various bets among themselves, attempting to decipher what's suddenly gotten in the mind of their resident airhead captain.

But Chihaya can't afford to be flustered. She has yet to understand what Chitose meant.

Having no clue how to go about it, or what it was she should even be seeking, Chihaya decided to begin her inspection by listing out the changes that existed between grade school Taichi and high school Taichi.

There was the hair, of course. He kept it longer now, the just enough for the tips of the strands to reach past his eyebrows. It still looked well put and silky, though, and if Chihaya would extend her hand to rest on the mop of his head, she’s sure to find it soft, too. She was about to ask for his permission to do just that when she caught herself. That was a weird thing to ask, wasn’t it?

Discarding the thought, Chihaya focused again at the task at hand, taking meticulous notice of Taichi’s stature—his sharp features and porcelain skin, the trademark long lashes, striking amber eyes…

Do you find your boyfriend attractive?

As soon as her sister’s words echoed unbidden in her mind, Chihaya’s world shifted.

Literally and figuratively. “Chihaya!” She instantly registered concern in Taichi’s voice as her head struck against the table, having slipped unceremoniously off her arm. Heat pooled at her cheeks as the temperature in the room spiked, making her feel like she was suddenly shoved inside a microwave. Every pair of eyes in their table was directed at her, equal parts worried and confused. “Are you—” Taichi was about to place a hand on her forehead, meaning to check if she was running a fever, when Chihaya shrunk back, yelping, “Water!”

A beat later she leapt to her feet, following through the first excuse she could think of, “I—I’m gonna drink some water.” Without further ado, Chihaya rushed out of the library and sprinted through the hallway, leaving everybody in the room dumbfounded in her wake.

“Never again,” Chihaya vowed, wiping off the water that dripped on her chin. “I won’t listen to Onee-chan ever again.” She pressed the one-liter bottle on her cheek, cooling her skin. How was she supposed to face Taichi now? It would be practically impossible to look into his eyes without bursting into flames.

Chitose-neechan must know how to deal with this, Chihaya hoped. She should head home at once and demand answers. With a newfound resolve Chihaya stood up from her crouching position—before smacking a palm on her forehead. "Ah! My bag—"

"—is here," a familiar voice cut from behind her. Spinning on her heels, she saw Taichi heading towards her next to the vending machine, both their bags slung on his shoulder. "T - Taichi," she said helplessly, her eyes instantly latching on his shoes. She gingerly inched closer. "G - give me that. I'm going home."

He turned away from her, then started walking. "Let's go."

Chihaya panicked. "Wait! I - I can go by myself. You should go back to the others. I'm fine, really."

Taichi resumed walking. "No, you're not. You look like you're bound to walk into a pole, and Ayase-san would be mad at me if I let you."

With you, I might do just that, Chihaya retorted. Having no other choice, she followed him towards the school gate.

Chihaya has always been grateful for her exceptional hearing, but today proved to be day unlike any other, and so she wasn't surprised upon finding herself annoyed with how her ears easily picked up the chatter around them. The train cart was packed with students, many of them being girls who were spending the better part of the ride gushing about her boyfriend. As unsettling as it was for her, she had to admit that the sight of Taichi studying his notes with a calm look on his face was nothing short of eye-catching. Although it had only taken a second to glance at him, Chihaya felt her cheeks flush nonetheless. In utter embarrassment, she covered them with her palms.

She was determined to shield her vision for the rest of the trip when her phone buzzed.

from: Mashima Taichi to: Ayase Chihaya Do you feel dizzy?

Chihaya's breath caught. Her fingers typed in a reply.

from: Ayase Chihaya to: Mashima Taichi No I'm ok

She heard Taichi tapping on his phone.

from: Mashima Taichi to: Ayase Chihaya Were exams hard?

from: Ayase Chihaya to: Mashima Taichi Of course You didn't need to ask

Chihaya was beginning to wonder why they're suddenly conversing through their phones when a new message stilled her thoughts.

from: Mashima Taichi to: Ayase Chihaya Why aren't you looking at me?

The next stop was still a few minutes away. There was no way she could sprint away from him again in this compartment. Taichi would easily see through her lies. She had no choice but to come clean.

Since it was more mortifying to type it out than to simply voice her concerns, she tucked away her phone on her skirt pocket. After clearing her throat a bit, Chihaya declared with a slightly shaky voice, "B - because you look like that."

"Like what?" Genuine cluelessness was evident in Taichi's tone.

Chihaya buried her face in her hands again as she whispered, "Handsome. Too handsome."

Silence stretched between them so much that Chihaya wasn't sure if Taichi had heard her. She risked taking a peek at his expression when she noticed him beet red, staring past the train window.

Chihaya wanted to cry. Chitose-neechan better know how to fix this mess she's gotten them in.

In the end, Chitose wasn’t of any help. After laughing at her sister to her heart’s content, she merely commented, “My, what a problem you have there, Chihaya.” She threatened to boycott her sister’s next magazine release as payback.

Grasping at straws, Chihaya then dialed Kanade’s and Sumire’s numbers. As soon as all the amused reactions winded down, Kanade stated, “Although I don’t have any useful advice to deal with what you’re experiencing, I think avoiding Mashima-kun is the last thing you should be doing right now. We’ll be entering university soon, and it’ll be harder to meet each other then. You wouldn’t want to regret that, ne, Chihaya-chan?”

Chihaya sighed. “I don’t.”

“Ayase-senpai,” Sumire chimed in. In a tone reminiscent of the time she guided them confidently through making Valentine’s chocolates to cheer up Taichi, Sumire announced, “There’s only one way to fix this. You have to build immunity.”

‘Building immunity’ apparently meant weathering through all the blushing and the rapid heartbeats until she got used to them. It may be a tall order, but there weren’t any alternatives and Chihaya had been worried about making Taichi worry about her. Putting her faith on Sumire’s reputation on matters concerning love, Chihaya found herself waiting anxiously on the train platform the next morning.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you this early.” Taichi stood next to her and she grounded her feet, desperately willing her face not to redden. Glancing at him, she stuttered, “O - ohayou, Taichi.”

Small talk passed between them until their train arrived. Settling on the empty seats, Taichi regarded her with mild surprise. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be seeing you at all for the rest of the week.” Chihaya clasped her hands. “W - well, Kana-chan said hiding isn’t a good idea.” She struggled to make eye contact, “A - and I want to be immune as soon as possible.”

Taichi looked at her blankly for a full three seconds. Then he broke into laughter, face lighting up so brilliantly that Chihaya had to avert her eyes.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.

Chihaya can’t find it in herself to sincerely complain, though.

#Chihayafuru #ayase chihaya #mashima taichi #taichihaya #let me know if you liked the fic!

26 notes · View notes

multi-fxndom446 · 5 years ago

Text

You’re Somebody Else

Atsumu Miya X Reader

Warning: possible trigger warning, cussing, assholes, and angst

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: you grew up with Atsumu but he changed getting into highschool and not for the better.

You’re Somebody Else pt2

I saw the part of you that only when you’re older you will see too.

You knew Miya Atsumu better then anyone. Sometimes you thought you even knew him better then his own twin. Growing up with him you learned pretty quickly that he liked to show off, but under it all he was a very kind person.

That proved correct whenever he would protect you from mean girls in middle school or when you were little and he shared his toys with you. He took care of you.

It shocked quite a few people on multiple occasions when they saw how he was with you.

I held the better cards but every stroke of luck has gotta bleed through. Its gotta bleed through.

You held the balance of the time that only blindly I could read you.

But I could read you.

“Atsumu come on. You’ve had enough for today.” He ignored you and continued to practice. He was getting ready to try out to be on the highschool volleyball team and for some reason he thought they would reject him.

You watched him for a few more minutes before you decided you had enough. When you grabbed the ball from his grasp he was shocked, he didn’t even notice you walk over to him. “Atsumu. You need to rest.”

“I’m not tired Y/n just a while longer.” He was lying and he knew that you could see right through him. He was like an open book when it came to you. “Please.”

“You won’t make it on the team if you injure yourself practicing.” He knew you only meant the best for him but what you were saying was striking a nerve.

When you walked away from him to clean up he finally snapped.

It’s like you told me go forward slowly it’s not a race to the end.

“Y/n! I’m fine!” His voice caused you to stop. You didn’t turn to him yet but he didn’t care. “If you don’t let me practice I won’t get on the team!”

“Atsumu!” His eyes widened in shock, you never raised your voice at him. “You will get on the team so I don’t know why you’re worried.”

The two of you stared at each other almost as if to challenge the other one to speak again. “You’re done for today. Your brother left hours ago and you should’ve gone with him so now I’m here telling you. You are done.”

He didn’t say anything after that, just watched you pick up the discarded volleyballs and put the cart away. You had been there so many times you knew exactly where the cart went and what got cleaned up everyday.

Finally he followed after you to grab the broom and help you clean up the rest of the gym. “I’m just worried.” He told you, half way through cleaning the gym.

“About what?”

“This could determine my career after highschool too. I need to get into a good school.” You paused your movements to look over at him. He stopped to but wouldn’t look you in the eyes so you dropped the broom you were holding to walk over to him.

You put your hand on his arm gently and he tightened his grip on the broom. “Atsumu,” your voice was soft, he loved your voice when it was soft. “You don’t need to think so far ahead.”

He finally looked down at you, even for a middle schooler he towered over you. “You’re an amazing volleyball player and you will go far but please think one step at a time. I don’t want you to hurt yourself by pushing yourself to hard.”

His eyes searched yours and like always he could only see the sincerity in them and the kindness you always showed him even when people told you he was a bad person. Finally he dropped the broom and wrapped his arms around you and you did the same, relishing in the warmth he gave off.

“Now let’s finish cleaning I’m sure your mom is wondering where you are.” You joked lightly, smiling to yourself when he chuckled. He pulled away from you and picked up his broom as you went back to yours, he watched you go before he continued on.

Well you look like yourself but you’re somebody else only it ain’t on the surface

“Atsumu. How did we get here?” You both were outside the gym just right by the doors while his team was stretching inside. There were a few passerby’s but they ignored you both.

“What do you mean?” He always tried to push this off. Every time you brought up what was wrong he deflected it or just left.

You almost felt like crying, he didn’t even look like he cared at all. “You know what I mean! How did we end up here?!” He couldn’t look you in the eyes especially when you yelled. You seemed to do that more after you both got into highschool. He hated it. He hated it even more that he was the reason why.

Both of your first years in highschool was okay. He made the volleyball team like you knew he would but he changed just a little bit. You ignored it but by the end of your first year he was an awful cocky ass just like everyone told you, the difference this time though was that you couldn’t see where they were wrong.

He got caught into a bad group of friends a bunch of the cocky athletes that played different sports none of them from volleyball. Even though he was friends with his volleyball team he was with these other guys all the time and starting your second year he was always with them.

“I knew growing up where I stood. I was your best friend. But now we’re here and I don’t know what you want from me!” You hissed, shoving his shoulder slightly. “You make me feel like you like me as more, then you treat me like shit, then you act as if I’m just a side piece.”

He was still silent and finally the tears were rolling down your cheeks and you shoved him again but he grabbed your shoulders to stop you from doing it again. “Say something!”

Your head fell on his chest and it muffled your sobs as you clutched onto his shirt. He could see how white your knuckles were turning just from how tight you were holding onto him. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped short when he heard familiar laughing coming his way.

Well you talk like yourself no, I hear someone else though now you’re making me nervous.

He pushed you away and even he was almost saddened when he saw you weren’t even that shocked. When your eyes saw the group of athletes you knew you should’ve left right then but you didn’t.

“Atsumu!” One of them called out to him and he waved back at them. You stared at him, seeing his demeanor completely change. “Whoa what’s happening here?”

“Oh nothing she was just crying cause I broke up with her.” Broke up with you? You looked at him in disbelief, you weren’t even dating to begin with.

“She didn’t even know she was the side?” A guy, you didn’t care to know, laughed. He was from the soccer team and that’s all you knew. He turned to you a cocky grin in place, “are you clueless?”

You looked at him in disbelief before you turned to Atsumu, who you thought would defend you but when you saw his smirk you scoffed at your own self. “I don’t know what I expected out of you. I hope you have a great life.” Then you started walking.

“Don’t come crawling back when you need someone to hook up with.” Atsumu called out to you and you didn’t even stop walking, just turned around and walked backwards.

“Don’t worry. I won’t. Especially not to you.” Then you were gone and he watched you go. His heart hurt when he couldn’t see you in his sight anymore but he pretended it didn’t get to him.

“Atsumu let’s go practice is starting.” Osamu was the one to grab him, narrowing his eyes at the guys his brother called his friends. Atsumu nodded and said his goodbyes before leaving, believing the next day you’d be by his side again.

You were the better part of every bit of beating heart that I had. Whatever I had.

When you said you weren’t crawling back you didn’t lie. He hoped that like the other times he was cruel that you would come back to him because you did it every time.

But when the next day you didn’t he didn’t think anything of it until two weeks later when he finally saw you in the hallways. You weren’t outwardly avoiding him anymore but you treated him as if you never knew him.

That hurt him more then he expected it too.

He was with his group of friends when you walked past him one day. He missed you more then anything so when your eyes connected he even tried to smile at you but you simply looked towards you friend standing next to you and continued your conversation with her.

“You okay?” Erin, one of the guys from the basketball team, had asked when he noticed Atsumu seemed out of it.

“Yeah fine.” He wasn’t though but it’s not like they noticed or cared. He looked around at the guys as they all continued to joke around. They were teasing girls that passed by them and usually he’d laugh along but today he cringed. Why was he friends with these guys again?

The girls were obviously uncomfortable as most of them walked away. He was going to leave when he heard them start to talk about you. One of them must’ve seen you walk by or maybe they were thinking about you for longer then he’d like.

“So that y/n, she’s up for grabs then?” One of them muttered to someone else. Obviously they didn’t want him to hear and they thought he wouldn’t either.

“I don’t know man ask him.” The other one motioned to Atsumu. “But the break down she had after he broke it off I wouldn’t advice it.”

“Maybe I could make her cry in bed.” He smirked at himself, he definitely thought he was some hot shit and Atsumu was over it. Before anyone could stop him Atsumu grabbed onto the guys shirt and shoved him against the wall.

“If you ever go near her or touch her I will bury you in the ground dick head.” His voice was low and threatening. The guy in front of him was shaking, he’d never seen Atsumu like this.

“Dude come on it was a joke.” Someone said, grabbing his shoulder. Atsumu shoved the guy against the wall one more time before he dropped him and shoved whoever had there hand on him.

“Fuck off.” He spat and stormed off. The entire hall was silent as they watched the scene in front of them but you weren’t one of them. You were sitting in class completely oblivious to what occurred in the hall.

I finally sat alone. Pitch black flesh and bone. Couldn’t believe that you were gone.

It was lunch time the same day but he didn’t feel like eating. You were in the classroom down the hall and he knew it. He wanted to get as far away as he could while still being in the school.

The group of friends he had didn’t sit with him that day but he couldnt care less he was sure they wouldn’t talk to him after what happened earlier.

So finally he went to the one place he knew he could think, the gym. No one was there so he grabbed the volleyballs from the closet and started serving them.

He missed you and it was slowly driving him crazy. It hasn’t even been that long since you confronted him and he couldn’t stop running the whole conversation in his head.

The more he thought about you and everything he did wrong the harsher the serves became. He was grunting as he smacked the volleyballs with as much force as he could that he was becoming sweaty. He went to grab another one when he found the basket empty.

He sighed in annoyance before running his hand through his hair. He paced back and forth not really knowing what he could do now but as he looked over to the basket he gritted his teeth.

He walked over to the basket and pushed it over. It slid across the ground with how much force he used to push it over.

He grabbed the closest ball before he chucked it at the closest wall. He felt like he wanted to scream but he knew he’d get in trouble with a teacher.

His grabbed another ball and held onto it tightly with one hand while the other balled up into a fist. He looked out at the gym before he walked closer to the net. He looked the net over before he sat down, his legs crossed and the volleyball still in his clutch.

He grabbed the ball with both hands before leaning his head down on it and finally letting all his frustration get to him. His eyes watered but he looked up at the ceiling, not wanting them to fall.

He ended up staying there the rest of the school day. Osamu was the first one to find him. He looked around at the mess his brother was and the mess he made and sighed before he walked over and helped Atsumu up and helped him clean up before the other players got there and found out he ditched.

“Y/n?” Osamu asked him while they stretched but Atsumu didn’t respond and continued to stretch his arms. Osamu and Atsumu were stretching off by themselves so they could talk about what Osamu walked in on. But Atsumu obviously didn’t want to talk so he dropped it.

Well you look like yourself but you’re somebody else only it ain’t on the surface. Well you talk like yourself, no I hear someone else though now you’re making me nervous.

It had been a few more weeks since what had happened and you still weren’t talking to Atsumu. You saw him around school but you made no move to make it up with him.

“Y/n?” You jumped out of fright when you heard someone right behind you. You turned to towards the person and sighed in relief when you saw Osamu. “I didn’t know you still came to watch us play?”

You didn’t. You didn’t even know why you were here but this was a huge deal for them and you wanted to be there to watch them play. “Oh this is the first game I’ve been to since uh, you know.

“Have you talked to him? He’s been pretty bad.” He told you and the timing couldn’t have been any worse because as soon as he asked you that you caught sight of Atsumu flirting with a few girls in the distance. You knew you didn’t have any right to be upset but it still hurt to see that he really didn’t change.

“No I haven’t but he seems to be doing just fine.” Osamu looked behind him towards where you were looking and he sighed. Of course Atsumu would do that right now. “Look I have to go but good luck out there okay?”

“Are you staying?” He called out to you as you went to walk away and you went silent for a moment as if thinking about if you should or not. “I would like you to stay.” He could see you thinking and he knew it would help his brother if you did.

You opened your mouth but closed it. You looked up at him before nodding softly with a small smile. You turned and walked away from him after that.

Osamu watched you go before you were lost in the crowd and then he turned towards his brother who was still oblivious to what just happened.

“You’re joking right?” Osamu asked him when he walked over to him. The two girls looked between the two twins and almost swooned at the sight of them. They would’ve if Osamu didn’t grab his brother and drag him away from the girls.

“What now? I was talking to those girls.” Osamu narrowed his eyes at his brothers stupidity. Atsumu crossed his arms, waiting for him to say something but he wasn’t expecting for the next sentence.

“Y/ns here you know.” Atsumus heart stopped and immediately he dropped his arms to his sides and started looking around. “She told me good luck. Don’t know if she stayed though.”

“Well did you tell her too? Did she just leave? Osamu I need to talk to her!” Atsumu was panicking he hadn’t talked to you in over four weeks and he needed to see you again.

“I told her I’d like her to stay. I don’t know if she will.” Osamu shrugged, watching his brother continue to look around. “But after what she just saw who knows.”

“She saw me talking to those girls?” Atsumu asked but he already knew, Osamu didn’t even have to answer him. “They didn’t mean anything!”

Atsumu motioned behind him to where he was talking to those girls, unaware of the fact that those girls were still there. They looked over in confusion and Osamu offered them a small wave before dragging his brother further away and out of sight of the girls.

“I know they didn’t. But if she’s here then win this game then go talk to her and make it right.” Osamu didn’t leave room to argue as he walked away to meet up with the team.

Well you look like yourself but you’re somebody else only it ain’t on the surface.

They lost the game. Inarizaki was quick to pack up and leave while the volleyball team trudged there way off the court. You watched them leave, all of them looking defeated.

Atsumus usual cockiness was long gone and it hurt you to see him so upset. But you didn’t stay to long to ponder on how you could help him.

They were getting there stuff put away when he caught a glimpse of you. He almost ran over to you right then but Osamu grabbed his arm. “Not now.”

“Then when?” Atsumu was frustrated and Osamu could see that. “I need to see her.”

“Talk to her when we finish up tonight. They’re staying to watch more games so you should too.” Osamu explained and Atsumu was going to argue but when he looked back to where you were, you were gone.

Atsumu sighed before following after his brother.

He was there to watch the games but he couldn’t really focus on them. He was devastated and without you there to comfort him and tell him he’d still go pro he felt even worse. So when his team finally decided to leave he made up his mind about what he would do next.

As soon as he and Osamu got home Atsumu said hello to there mother and left right after that. His mother was calling after him when Osamu told her where he was going and she left it alone.

He biked to your house, you didn’t live to far away. The sun was setting so he knew he needed to do this now and as soon as he stopped in front of your house his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

He walked up to your front door and knocked, anxiously waiting for someone to open the door. He could hear muffled voices inside before the door swung open and your face was the one in front of him.

His heart felt like it dropped. You were smiling before you saw him and soon it fell into a confused frown. “Atsumu what are you doing here?”

“Y/n I’m sorry.” He was breathless and even as he said that he was trying to regain his breaths.

You shifted slightly, looking him up and down. Had he come just to tell you that? “Okay” you said, crossing your arms.

Well you talk like yourself no, I hear someone else though now you’re making me nervous.

“Okay that’s it?” He asked you and immediately regretted if when you narrowed your eyes at him so he changed the subject. “you were at the game?”

You nodded your head a little, “I was.”

“And you saw us lose?”

“I did.” There was a hint of sympathy in your tone but he could see through your eyes that you did feel bad for them. Even if you couldn’t read him anymore he could still read you. “Atsumu. Why are you here?” You asked again.

He looked down at the ground, trying to find his words before he looked up at you. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything I did and the way I treated you weeks ago.”

“Weeks ago? Is that all you think you did wrong?” The sympathy was gone and was being replaced by anger now. “You’ve been treating me like shit since the end of last year.”

“It wasn’t bad.” He tried, his anger was getting the best of him too.

“Wasn’t bad?” You scoffed “Atsumu! You played with my feelings! You treated me like I was an easy girl that you could pass around. Like I was a girl that would give you anything you wanted.”

He was silent.

“Atsumu, I was the only one who stood by you through everything. People told me you were an asshole when we were younger but it wasn’t until this year that I started thinking they were right. Growing up I saw a part of you that only when you’re older you will see too.” Your voice got softer and softer as you finally got your frustration out after weeks of not talking.

“So what happens now?” He asked, your eyes saddening when you saw his gloss over. “Is this really it?”

“For now.” His jaw clenched as you closed your door and he was left standing there, willing the tears away. He took another moment before he walked back to his bike and it wasn’t until he got there that the tears finally fell.

He lost you and he didn’t know if he could get you back.

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya twins #osamu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu imagine #atsumu miya imagine

439 notes · View notes

unsteadyimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Deceitful (Spencer Reid x Reader) Part 1/2

SUMMARY: Spencer helps Amanda (a recovering victim of domestic violence rescued by the BAU) by spending time with her, which makes Y/N mad because he barely had time to spend with her originally because of his job. Now, argument after argument, Y/N has suspicions Spencer’s intentions may not be so pure after all.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: N/A

NOTE: This is my first time ever posting any of my writing so please bear with me!! I also have to thank @moonlit-martyr for giving me the motivation to start writing again!!

***Feedback is always welcome for future improvement!

-------

“Hey, Emily long time no see,” you smile, walking through the entry of the BAU, hands full with Spencer’s lunch which he had left at home early this morning.

“Hey, Y/N it’s been so long, what are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing stacks and stacks of what I assume are new case files, once again reminding me of their hectic and highly dangerous job.

“I just came to drop off Spencer’s lunch; he left it at home again this morning. Do you know where he is?” You ask curiously. Emily’s face drops slightly, but enough for me to notice her change in demeanour. She looks as if she’s struggling to come up with an answer. Being in the FBI, you’d think she would be a better liar, or at least look more convincing.

“Oh, uh – he’s, um – actually already gone out for lunch… with Amanda. They left about 25 minutes ago,” She says, looking down to the floor. My stomach twisted in nervous knots, feeling both disappointment and uneasiness.

“T-they?” You’re afraid to ask. This was the third time this week Spencer has gone out for lunch with Amanda, and while you usually wouldn’t be concerned about Spencer making new friends, in fact, you would encourage it, this time something felt… different. Amanda was a victim they rescued from a life-threatening domestic violence dispute four weeks ago. According to Spencer, she didn’t have any family or friends left due to her then abusive husband pushing her away from everyone she knew and loved. She has no one.

You let out a heavy sigh, placing Spencer’s lunch on his desk and looking back at Emily, who looks sympathetic. “I know what you’re thinking, Y/N, but this is Spencer we’re talking about. I don’t think you have anything to worry about - he adores you… you know that” She tells you reassuringly. You believe Emily’s words of comfort because deep down, you know she’s right. From the moment you and Spencer met at the college you attend when he was teaching a class, it was a match made in heaven. The two of you hit it off so quickly, getting to know each other and already planning a second meeting before even finishing your first one.

“I know I know, and I understand she doesn’t have anyone right now and I think it’s very considerate of Spencer to help her get back on her feet but… and I may sound horrible for saying this, but… I-I just hope she doesn’t try to take advantage of his kindness and mistake it for something else.”

“Remember he loves you and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that, Amanda just needs a little bit of guidance right now, I’m sure you can try to understand that. Being isolated from every person you love for so long by someone who is meant to be your husband, then all of a sudden have everything taken away from you. Not to mention all the physical and psychological pain she must have been feeling.” Emily explains. Maybe I sound paranoid.

You smile at Emily, grateful for her advice.

“Thanks, Emily. I’m just being paranoid. I’m sure everything is fine.” However, at this point, I don’t know who I am trying to convince more - myself or Emily.

“Do you want to come and see the others? I’m sure they would all love to see you again,” Emily encourages, trying to get my mind off of Spencer and Amanda.

Giving her an enthusiastic nod, she leads me to the group, who are smiling and laughing while awaiting another case. As Penelope’s sees me walking closer, she has a huge grin on her face and her arms already out on either side of her for a bone-crushing hug.

It’s been a considerable number of hours since I left the BAU, getting on with household chores before Spencer is due to arrive home. Putting the finishing touches on dinner, I hear the front door open and in walks Spencer in his black suit. He drops his briefcase and bag by the door, walking into the kitchen with a lazy smile written on his face. His long arms stretched out; he makes his way towards me.

“Hey babe, sorry I’m home so late. I got caught up with some last-minute case reports.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around my waist, placing a delicate kiss on my cheek. At this point, it just feels wrong to accept his loving gestures. Did they still mean the same things from when we first met? Placing the two plates on the dining table, I sit opposite Spencer, not sure how to even talk to him. Do I bring up my concerns? He looks quite tired from work. Maybe I shouldn’t push it on him tonight? Or should I? Do I mention it at all?!

Dinner was awkward, tense and quiet all at once. Only the sounds of metal utensils and glass plates being heard in the room and soft mumbles of delight from Spencer for the food. Spencer sits back and lets out a deep sigh.

“Do you mind clearing up? I still have heaps of work to get done before I go in tomorrow.” He asks, however, I get the sense that it doesn’t matter whether I say yes or no, I will still end up doing it.

“Sure, you go do what you need to.” I get up, grabbing both plates and begin cleaning up for the night. A half-hour later I make my way upstairs to get ready for bed and as always, I pass Spencer’s office. Except this time, I stop in my tracks and take a look inside and once again my stomach is filled with nerves and butterflies, but not the good kind. It’s funny how Spencer has ‘heaps’ of work to get done, yet he’s finding time to message back and forth with whoever he was talking to, and of course, it only took me a second to realise who it most likely was. Smiling and chuckling at his screen was a clear indication it was most definitely not someone from the team, but Amanda.

I desperately want to ask him about her, but I’m not ready to hear the answer. Spencer is the only serious relationship I have ever had, the only person I’ve ever loved. But this isn’t what love is meant to feel like. Feeling constantly on edge, anxious and paranoid. At this point, I’m not certain its paranoia anymore, but my gut feeling. I don’t want to believe that Spencer may be cheating on me. I can’t. I can’t stand this anymore. I make my way over to our bathroom and get ready for bed, leaving room for Spencer when he eventually comes to bed.

I suddenly feel a nudge on my arm. Slowly opening my eyes, I see Spencer’s face hovering over mine in the darkness. 2:25 am.

“What are you doing up still? I thought you would’ve come to bed hours ago.” I groggily ask, trying to make out his features in the lack of light. But I don’t need any light to notice how unconvincing his next words are, and once again, it sends my heart beating profusely.

“I just got called into work, but I should only be gone a couple of hours this time, I promise.” Promise. The word promise is used a lot by him and yet lately, he never fails to disappoint me. I promise I’ll be home early. I promise we’ll get to spend more time together. I promise we can make this work - I promise, I promise, I promise.

Having nothing to say to him, I simply roll over and try to get back to sleep. I hear him let out a sigh.

“I love you” He whispers. That alone threatens tears to brim my eyes. As much as I am hurting right now, I couldn't not say it back.

“I love you too, be safe.” I barely whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In a way, him hearing me say those words makes me hope he feels somewhat guilty if he isn’t actually going to work, but another woman’s house. Her house. But no, of course not. Instead, I hear him pick up his bag, walk downstairs and lock the door.

Sitting up in bed, my thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Where did we go wrong? Did I do something? Does he not love me anymore despite him saying he does? It takes me hours before I am able to go back to sleep, considering waiting up for Spencer to return home but deciding against it.

Opening my heavy eyes, I check to see the time is now 8:30 am. I also notice Spencer’s side of the bed remains untouched. A couple of hours, huh? Around 45 minutes later, I’m sat on the couch engrossed in a book, when Spencer walks in the door - clothes dishevelled and tired eyes. “Hi babe” He yells, walking up the stairs to our bedroom before I am even able to reply.

When he comes downstairs, he sits next to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, enveloping me in a warm hug and a kiss on the corner of my mouth. Fuck, I miss this. I hum in delight, taking whatever I can get, which sounds as pathetic as it actually is.

“You said you would only be a couple of hours, not over 6 hours.” You murmur in his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry I just got caught up with the others. Next time I’ll let you know if I run over time.” He assures me. Looking up at him, I can tell he is tired, small bags forming under his eyes. He gives me a lazy smile, pecking me on the forehead before heading upstairs.

“I thought we were going to hang out today? We’ve barely had any alone time together this week or last week,” I asked, turning around on the couch to look at him. He’s only made it halfway up the stairs as he looks at me, groans and looks up at the ceiling.

“Y/N, I’m tired. We can hang out tonight or tomorrow.” He huffs, continuing his way up the stairs.

“Will we though? Because that’s what you said a few days ago, and numerous times last week.” You blurt. It’s not my intention to start an argument today, but if it means I can finally get something out of him instead of endless false hope, then so be it.

Spencer’s face contorts in an annoyed expression, a slight glare in his eyes draining into mine.“Y/N, don’t argue with me. I’m tired and I want to sleep. We’ll hang out later.” He says more firmly. But to me, that isn’t good enough.

“It’s always ‘later’ with you isn’t it?” I push.

“For fuck sakes Y/N we can hang out later!” He yells, his arms flailing up in annoyance. I flinch slightly, taken aback by his sudden change in mood. For however long we’ve been together I don’t think he has ever really raised his voice at me before like he had just now. Sinking into the couch, I succumb to his angry and irritated mood.

“I- okay, sorry.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic, trudging back up the stairs and into our bedroom. Hot tears slide down my cheeks, my throat tightens as I try to hold down my sobs. I don’t know whether I’m meant to stay here or leave. But where would I go? Deciding on staying on the couch for the time being, I curl up into a ball and shut my eyes, trying to sleep the day away and avoid any more drama.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid gif #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fics #spencer reid fic

310 notes · View notes

missdawnandherdusk · 5 years ago

Text

The Lion and The Lamb

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Now that you two had to face other people and interact, knowing what happened... can the two of you do it? And how will it work even if it does?

A/n: This part is SO CUTE and I love it. I hope you guys know that this is far from over... I was serious when I said that I would rewrite the entirety of the series. I hope you guys are staying safe and stay tuned I have big plans for our confused lovers. Let me know what you think! ((Also, guys, please sleep and do your school work--don’t make me mother you))

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans

I woke the next morning, still by the window, a letter on my lap and Penelope nowhere in sight. There was a familiar green seal on the parchment.

A fresh layer of snow covered the grounds of Hogwarts, it was almost enchanting. Stretching, I took my blanket and the letter and sat on my bed. Hermione was absent from her bed. I could only assume that she had gone down to breakfast.

Opening the letter, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and blinked through reading it.

Y/n,

You should be asleep, not writing to me. Ask Madam Pomfrey for sleeping potion if this continues.

I can only imagine that you are talking about how the antidote made us feel and then how we feel about another. I understand what you mean—and when have I ever made fun of you? We should look into it. I can ask Snape. He might know.

I know you’re scared, but you’re also a Gryffindor, courage runs in your veins. Don’t forget that no matter what happens. You are strong and stubborn and a real pain in the ass sometimes and now isn’t a time to just throw that to the wind. They hit, you hit back harder like you always have—at least with me anyway.

I wrote to your mother already. She’s right you do worry too much.

Yours too,

Draco,

I smiled at the letter and folded it, tucking it under my pillow with the others that I had from him as well as the one I had from my mother. I would have to find a safer spot for them soon. Maybe I could jinx a box or something...

Knowing it would be colder today, I threw on an extra sweater over my uniform and grabbed my scarf that had been retired for the summer and fall until now. Sometimes I missed living in a warmer climate all year round when the coldest it got was maybe freezing.

Not thinking about much other than getting to the Great Hall on one piece—and Draco’s advice about living up to Gryffindor courage— I hardly noticed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all waiting for me in the Common Room. My eyes met Hermione’s as I silently questioned her about what was going on. A few straggling students quickly scurried away as they watched the scene unfold.

“How much trouble are you in?” She asked softly, fear in her voice. “You’re not expelled, are you?”

The boys, looked to me concerned, with the same fear that Hermione had.

“What? No,” I backtracked. “Of course not!”

The three of them visibly relaxed.

“Is that what you guys have been worried about? Why you waited for me?” Part of me was touched that they did still care about me, despite what happened last night.

“Well, you were gone for hours, we weren’t sure what happened.” Ron defended Hermione. “Knowing Malfoy, we thought sure he’d get you kicked out.”

“No, we didn’t.” Hermione clarified. “They did. I did try and stay up to talk to you, but...”

I gave her a soft smile, letting her know that it was okay.

My eyes met Harry’s and my mood shifted as we stared each other down, both giving away nothing. There were accusations behind his eyes and threats behind mine. I dared him to say something.

“I’m not kicked out. I’m not in trouble—neither is Draco for that matter. You don’t know anything about him, and I really don’t want to hear it from either of you. I will tell you what I can if you want to listen. If not... not a word.” I threatened softly.

Ron and Hermione nodded, and I looked to Harry for his response.

“So, you two are on a first name basis then?” Harry remarked.

I gave a curt nod, narrowing my eyes.

“Are you two dating?” Ron asked, sounding innocently curious and disgusted.

“Well, we never really reached an answer to that...” I frowned, thinking.

Were we dating? Is that what this was? Surely it had to be more than what a boyfriend and girlfriend meant. Didn’t Draco mean more to me than that? My mother’s suggestion of Consentire Animi Pace, the bond of two souls in an effort for peace, made a bit more sense. Draco was right, we’d have to look into that later.

“Where were you last night if you weren’t getting expelled?” Harry asked—demanded.

“With Draco,” I answered coolly. “Anything else?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and I knew she had a lot more questions for me, but not in front of the boys at least. There had to be a time that I explained it all to them and how long Draco and I had been at this. From the outside I guess it did look very sudden.

Hermione fell into step with me as we made our way to the Great Hall with many other students who—not that I noticed—stared at us more than usual. Well, stared at me more than usual. Harry had just won the first task not too long ago and he was getting the normal amount of over attention.

“So, what happened!?” She asked excitedly, trying to whisper. “I need to know!”

I recounted in a low voice Draco and I’s adventure over the few hours: McGonagall’s office, the Astronomy Tower, my mother’s letter. I left out some details of the two of us that were only meant for each other. Hermione asked to see my mother’s letter later and I was hesitant to hand it over.

“No, I understand, it’s not meant for me,” She nodded, not looking sad at all. “I just can’t believe that you and Draco actually kissed in front of like everybody.” She whisper yelled. “It’s all anyone has been talking about!”

I got really red and looked down, sheepish.

“How bad is it?” I questioned, my eyes darting around the halls to other students—I met curious stares, some gaping at me, and some wishing that looks could kill.

“Not too bad I think,” She encouraged, “But then again I don’t know why they’d tell me about how they felt.” She shrugged. “But what was it like? Kissing him?”

I smile ghosted my lips as my cheeks grew warm. I could see Harry and Ron stiffen as they overheard the question.

“Not here,” I hissed, giving her a sharp look.

“To think, you being with a Slytherin, a Malfoy!” She laughed.

“He’s not so bad,” I defended softly, my voice and thoughts trailing off.

The Great Hall, to my relief, was not all staring at me as we entered. Instead everyone was quite calm and talking about a lot of different things, a main topic the Yule Ball. Part of me dreaded it, but then again... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Taking a seat, breakfast was served—magically. On my plate was biscuits and gravy, fruit, and hard-boiled eggs: my usual. Ron eyed the greyish sludge as he did every morning but said nothing. I suppressed a smile and began to eat. Comradery began to fall over us as the meal went on and George and Fred sat with us.

“Who knew what all it took was a kiss to shut Malfoy up?” Fred snickered, as did George. “Nice work Y/n.”

“So, you guys have been kissed!?” I smiled brightly turning to them. “That’s great!” My cheery dispositions faded to a glare.

I leaned across the table toward them, narrowing my eyes.

“Remember that I have access to where you sleep,” I threatened, a bright smile on my face.

“Good lord she’s terrifying, they do belong together.” George muttered under his breath, his joking tone gone as he looked at his breakfast.

I sat back smugly as the twins began to argue with Ron over using their owl.

“So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?” George asked.

“Nope,” said Ron.

We all exchanged looks. Hermione grew red and looked down, the twinkle in her eyes that she knew something, but refrained from saying it—she had a date. A smile stretched on my face as I thought of who it might be, my suspicions landed on Krum. Good for her.

“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.

They continued to talk of dates and Fred stood, asking Angelina to the ball, to which she said yes. Good for him too.

My mind drifted off to Draco. Would we go together? Should I hope for that? What would he think? Would he not want to because of all the attention it would attract? Surely his father would find out who he went with... could we risk that?

“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron when I finally tuned back into the conversation.

“Oh, I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”

“Er — yeah, that sounds about right,” Ron said, his ears going pink. Hermione huffed, clearly annoyed as she stood.

“We’re going to be late.” She snapped.

“We have plenty of time,” Ron complained.

“Well, I’m going now.” Standing, she grabbed her bag and stack of books. “Are you ready?” She turned to me, a softer note in her tone.

“Yeah,” I nodded looking at my half-eaten breakfast. “I need to look for something in the library anyway,”

Hermione was still livid as we walked down the hall toward the library. I smiled and left her to her thoughts, mine again drifting back to Draco. I didn’t notice him at breakfast. I hoped he was up and eating.

“So, are you and Draco going together?” Hermione asked as we strolled through the shelves of books.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “We... we have a lot to figure out.”

I pulled a book (An Extended Guide to Souls) hoping it would give me what I was looking for. There were a few others that the librarian had suggested that I look into, but I couldn’t find one that seemed the most promising: Harmony Through The Ages: Souls and the Magic Behind Them.

“What’s with all the soul stuff?” She asked, looking at my book stack.

“Something my mother said...” My eyes trailed the books looking for the final spine. “Thought I’d look into it.”

“About you and Draco?”

I gave her a look and she went quiet again.

“Not that I don’t want to tell you,” I explained quickly. “I just don’t know what to tell you without... I don’t know. Talking to him about it first? This is... so much bigger than I thought Hermione and I’m kinda freaking out,” I confessed.

“You’re not alone Y/n,” She encouraged. “Whatever is going on, you’re the most capable to figure it out. I’ll be there, and even if they don’t like it, so will Ron and Harry.”

“Thanks Hermione,” I relaxed a little bit. “Where is this stupid book!?” I yelled at no one in particular.

“Use a Summoning Spell,” Hermione suggested.

Humming, I pulled out my wand, twirled it once, and looked at the title again before casting the spell. The book flew into my hands.

“Oi! What stupid buffoon just—”

My eyes met livid blue ones, as I hid slightly behind it, trying not to laugh.

I couldn’t find the book because Draco had it.

“Sorry?” I felt my face going red as his anger turned to disbelief and faded.

“I’m... I’ll leave you two to it then. Don’t forget, class starts in fifteen minutes,” Hermione stammered and quickly made herself scarce.

“You could have just asked for it,” He huffed, coming over and taking it from my hands. “Contrary to popular belief, I do respond well to manners,”

“I do believe I apologized,” I smirked, looking up at him.

He was so close; I could feel his warmth as his robes brushed against mine.

“So, you did,” He mused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But I’m afraid that I simply cannot hand the book over,”

“And why not?” I demanded, watching him circle me as predator did prey. “

I’m reading it of course,”

“Oh, so you’ve learned to read? Wonderful,” I teased.

His calm teasing demeanor fell through as he smiled and rolled his eyes. He didn’t give me the book, however. He looked at the other ones that I had gathered.

“You think these might have answers?” He asked thoughtfully, picking one up and adding it to his pile.

“Hey, those are mine,” I grabbed it from his pile and added it back to mine. “And anything might help.”

“Am I not allowed to carry your books then? Is that not what I’m supposed to do?”

Oh, he was toying with me and he knew it. My fists clenched as I struggled between wanting to punch him and kiss him and then wanting to do both.

“I don’t know,” I drawled. “I don’t see any other guy offering... well not at the moment anyway,”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew that I had gotten under his skin. I gave in, maybe too easy, and reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re the only one I’d ever let carry my books,” I affirmed. “They’re very important to me,”

His cool exterior softened as he grabbed the rest of my stack as we headed out to the hall. The few students that were out in the hallway gaped at the two of us, but with a look from either me or Draco, their attention diverted elsewhere.

“Good job on the Summoning Spell,” He noted as we walked along.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Maybe though, we look at this stuff together?” I asked, almost embarrassed—even though it was stupid to be sheepish at all.

He nodded lost in thought. We paused in front of the Divination’s stairwell, knowing that this is where we parted ways.

“Y/n?” He asked, his cheeks growing red as he looked at the floor.

“Yeah?” I nudged him softly, a reminder that he was okay, and I wasn’t going to yell at him.

“I... well...”

I waited, an amused expression on my face as hope and excitement fluttered in my chest. There wasn’t much that could get him flustered like this and I really wondered what it was, I had two guesses, but I waited anyway.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

Oh, come on you stupid boy ask me out already.

“I’ll see you at lunch Draco,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes and took my books from his hold.

“I... yeah,” He flashed a quick smile and started the other way down the hall towards his first class.

I rolled my eyes and dragged myself up the stairs for another lesson on “The All-Seeing Eye.” It was going to be a long hour.

_______________________

Draco was all out of sorts in his first class. He barely payed attention to Professor Flitwick all hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on your face after he had about... never mind that... for taking his book. His ager short circuited around you.

And the flippant comments you made, they were no different than before... but you were different from before, and so was he. And he knew then that you two had shifted from jeering to... flirting.

Ugh.

He didn’t know how to flirt, he never had reason to, but there you were... looking at him through your eyelashes, quipping with him, trying to make him jealous—not that it worked.

And why were you the only one he couldn’t talk to properly? He had talked to plenty of girls before and not once did he stammer or stutter or feel nervous about anything, and now... well,

now he struggled to ask you to be his... was girlfriend the right word? He thought it was too dull to describe you, but it would have to do for now he supposed.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Flitwick called. “What is the purpose of the Muffliato Charm?”

He blanked. Sitting up straight, he ransacked his mind for an answer.

So that no one overhears us, your voice whispered in his head. It’s just for you and me.

“So that no one overhears,” He stammered out, recalling after your hint. “It creates a buzzing in the person’s ear so that they can’t overhear a conversation.” He finished confidently.

“Very good,�� Flitwick narrowed his eyes and continued to go over the method and wand movement behind the charm as Draco tried his hardest to keep paying attention.

____________________

Taking my seat next to Neville, I gave him a soft smile as Trelawny began her lesson on the planets and stars.

“Tell me, Ms. Y/n, when were you born my dear?” The professor came over to our small table.

“Late February,” I replied, flipping through my notes and the charts I had revolving around my birth and the stars.

“I see, a water spirit resides within you. Like the sea, both beautiful and foreboding. You must learn to control that my dear,” Trelawny warned. “And... I see another. A sea and a shore... one cannot exist without the other...”

My cheeks grew warm as I scribbled down what she said, thinking that was another thing to look into.

“So... you and—Malfoy,” Neville stammered.

Part of me wanted to snap at him like I would Harry, but I remember that Neville had always been kind to me, and I had no reason to attack him.

“Looks like it,” I nodded, skimming over the book in front of me trying to multitask.

“Is he taking you to the Yule Ball?” Neville was now flushing and stuttering worse.

My eyes snapped up as my eyebrows quirked. What was it with the guys around here today? I wasn’t that intimidating... was I?

“Not that I—” He stumbled. “I just— you’re really—”

I smiled and let out a soft laugh.

“It’s okay Neville, don’t get so worked up.” I soothed. “And I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me yet.” If he even is, I thought in vain. “You should ask Ginny,” I smiled warmly.

Neville nodded and looked down. I took a deep breath and sighed as we worked together through the rest of class, my thoughts elsewhere.

Part 9

212 notes · View notes

cheezritsu · 4 years ago

Text

Here’s some Akaashi coming down from an anxiety spiral + helpful reader:

***

“What does it feel like for you?”

“It feels like,” he licks his lips, trying to visualize it. Akaashi’s mind slips into the space a little too easily. He’s been spiraling all day, and now he’s squeezing his eyes shut, dwelling on it. The anxiety swirls ominously, like a thick cloud of smoke threatening to choke him. He can barely speak when he answers you.

“It feels like I’m just sitting in a room surrounded by darkness. The words, they’re tangible. And they keep pressing into me; they take up so much space, they weigh so much and I-“

“Hey,” your voice is the one source of light in the infinite darkness. He looks up to see you gazing at him with pinched brows. “Breathe.”

He does as you say. The world is a cold and merciless ocean, but when he exhales, your body feels like a raft, holding him afloat. You place a hand on his sternum, and it weighs more than the thoughts.

“I used to go to a counselor, you know,” your other hand threads through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly on his scalp. “He taught me something that I think might help you.”

Akaashi is skeptical about unsolicited advice, especially when it comes to things like this, but he knows you. You’re trying to help him, and he has to start letting you.

He mumbles “What is it?”

“It’s a mindfulness thing. Five, four, three, two, one; five things you see, four things you hear, three things you can touch, two things you smell, and one you taste.”

His lips purse. Generally your soft voice puts him at ease, but now it feels...coddling. Condescending. “That’s a long list.”

You’re silent for a moment, watching as Akaashi’s eyes glaze over as he spirals in his own head. “It’s pretty helpful,” you shrug, and you watch his body move with yours, pulling him out of his stupor. His steely eyes look up, then he nods.

“I’ll start.” You look around the room in a slightly exaggerated manner. “I see your physics textbook which has been opened, unlike mine.” Akaashi cracks a smile. “I see your big comfy volleyball jacket, I see your nail file, I see the owl plushie you don’t want Bokuto to know you still have, and of course I see your pretty face.” You press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Your turn.”

Akaashi settles deeper into your body, if at all possible. “Things I hear, right?” You hum in agreement. Akaashi sighs, trying to turn his senses outward. His ears ring, and he decides that’s his first one. You don’t say it doesn’t count.

“I hear my mother cooking downstairs. Then there’s the TV we left on; she’s going to say something about that—“

“Don’t think about it . Just tell me about what’s here and now.”

“I hear your voice.,” he says immediately “You’re so calm, as always.”

You don’t say anything about the compliment. Akaashi bites his lip, wondering if you were annoyed, but you start again. “Okay, now three things you can feel.”

His hands stretch across the sheets of his bed. “I feel the sheets,”

“How do they feel?”

“Soft,” he says. “I feel your hands; they feel really nice in my hair.”

“Mhmm,” he can tell you’re amused. “Go on.”

“I can feel your laughter on my back,” he says, and it gets harder to ignore when you laugh again. “It’s going down my spine.”

“You’re so meticulous.” When you say it, it sounds less like a burden and more like something a person could fall in love with. Akaashi has never seen himself quite as romantically as you do. “Okay genius, this ones’ harder. Two things you smell.”

It takes him a second to really adjust. Smells are generally under his threshold, but once he’s paying attention he can identify it.

“I smell the fabric softener in my sheets and pillows. And I smell the lavender you put on your wrists when you have headaches. Did you have one today?”

“Not about me,” you remind him, and he pouts ever so slightly. “We’re almost done, just tell me one thing you can taste.”

“I don’t know about that one.” He admits.

“It doesn’t have to be anything grand. Like, I taste the chapstick I applied earlier.”

“Can I taste?”

Your body stiffens under his and Akaashi feels quite accomplished by it. Your hands pull away from him to push yourself up, and Akaashi sits up, facing you.

Your face is flushed and you won’t look him in the eye. The light coming in his blinds accentuates the thin gloss on your lips, and Akaashi tilts your head towards him with two gentle fingers.

He holds your gaze, and you nod. He kisses you, with hardly any pressure at first, but then his tongue darts out to swipe at your lip, and you deepen the kiss. He’s aware of everything now; the softness of your cheek against his hand, your palm sliding against his thigh, the rustle of the sheets underneath you two, the hint of strawberry on your lips. Akaashi is fully inside his body, fully in control of the moment, and he shifts you closer until you’re in his lap.

Akaashi pulls back, curling your hair behind your ear. “That did help. Thank you.”

You give him a quick kiss. “You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“When you overthink, what’s it like?” His hands idly play with your fingers. “I want to know how to help you, too.”

“Oh,” you say, furrowing your brows. “Hmm. Well, for me, it’s always felt like I’m in a long hallway lined with doors. All doors are exits, right? I can get out at any moment, but I’m still trapped. And I’m paralyzed because if I open the wrong door, then it’s all over.”

Akaashi tried to picture it. You have a way with words, so he can see you with your head in your hands crumpled in a hallway as you lament how to get out. “Sounds like a demented fun house.”

You snort. “It totally is. But I don’t really overthink that much anymore.”

Akaashi raises his brow. Sounds like a dream. “How did you manage that?”

“Oh it wasn't me,” you say with a smile that’s both coy and adoring. “It’s because I have you.”

Oh how the tables have turned. Akaashi feels heat rise in his cheeks, and you’re snickering at his stunned expression. He can’t be mad, not when he treasures that sound above all else.

“I mean it, you know.”

He rests his head on your shoulder, nose buried in the crook of your neck. It smelled like lavender there too. “I know,” he says, relishing in the peace of the moment. It feels reticent and surreal, but your body under his hands is the fortunate reminder that this, you, is real.

“I love you,” he whispers, but you hear him. “I mean it.”

Akaashi has never said a single word he doesn’t mean. It’s a universal truth. You give a content hum, relishing in the peaceful stillness of this moment.

“I love you too, Keiji.”

He knows you mean it.

#akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #reader x akaashi keiji #reader x akaashi #keiji akaashi #akaashi hq!!#haikyuu!! akaashi #haikyuu!!#hq!!#hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! akaashi keiji x reader #reader insert #haikyuu!! reader #haikyuu!! fic #hq!! fic

166 notes · View notes

98prilla · 4 years ago

Text

Wings of Change

AO3

I was in a Remus mood and this happened.

...

He was sore. God, he was sore. Not that it was unusual for him to be sore. He got into all kinds of mischief and life-threatening scenarios every day. His imagination wasn’t nearly as tame as Roman’s usually was, blood and guts and death, oh my!

It wasn’t an uncommon sight, him bloodied and staggering down the hall to Janus’s room, or the living room, grin wide through red stained teeth, needing help patching himself up. Janus always grumbled and made a fuss about it, but with his extra arms he was fast, and always tenderly gentle, scolding him good naturedly the whole time.

Once Virgil would have helped as well. He was almost better at it than Janus, his fight or flight making him eerily good at assessing injuries, which ones were serious, which ones needed cleaning, which ones needed tending to first. But more than that, he often stopped Remus before he went that far to begin with, appearing in the shadows of the imagination and dragging him home, or teaming up with him to defeat the day’s monster, making sure they both stayed relatively safe.

Once he might have had Roman, watching his back, moving together as one, not needing to speak to understand the other’s movements. It was a well-rehearsed dance, one that was more familiar than breathing, one that brought to the surface a strange sort of quiet, in his mind, a soft silence reigning for a few precious hours, afterwards.

But they had left. And he was used to pain. Pain of dislocated limbs, the sting of disinfecting wipes, the bubble of iodine, the wheeze of cracked ribs. Once Roman would have healed him with a snap of his fingers. Once Virgil would have stopped him from getting hurt in the first place. But now there was only Janus, to piece him back together after.

And then the wedding happened.

And Thomas, more importantly, Patton, admitted that Janus was right. That their thinking was too black and white, that deception wasn’t everything Janus was, that his advice and opinions mattered. He would have loved to lurk behind the television and watch, but he had other business to attend to.

That business being Virgil.

He’d slowly creaked open the door, knocking softly on the door frame to alert Virgil to his presence. Now was not the time to scare the storm cloud. Virgil was already scared enough as it was.

“go away.” Came the muffled response, tempest tongue tinging it dark and growling, the shadows of the room darker than ever, and if he were anyone else, standing in there for more than a minute would have him corrupted beyond repair.

But he was Remus, intrusive thoughts, dark creativity, and anything the room could show him he’d already imagined himself, and though it was unpleasant, he knew they didn’t matter. Because Virgil was curled up under a pile of blankets, his shaking visible even from the doorway, the fear strong and visceral.

“Easy, storm cloud. It’s just me.” He murmured, stepping inside and letting the door close shut behind him.

“Oh goodie. All my worries are soothed.” Virgil snarked, voice trembling, and Remus let out a small huff, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, out there with Thomas, but he could feel the negativity roiling out from the living room, and knew Virgil was overwhelmed, trying to process it all, absorb it all, disperse it all. They were overwhelming him, and no one had even deigned to check on him, choosing to ignore him.

Thomas had chosen to ignore him. Remus knew that was hurting Virgil the most. That he hadn’t been called. That they hadn’t wanted him up there. That he had told the truth, bared his soul, and now Thomas wouldn’t even look towards his spot on the stairs. Carefully, Remus laid a hand atop the lump under the blankets, stroking his thumb in small, grounding circles, nothing more than a light touch. Virgil shuddered, but didn’t shift away.

“why are you here? Shouldn’t you be using this time to wreak havoc, or something?” He laughed again, a soft, warm sound, not his usual cackle. The kind of laugh only Janus and, once, Virgil, were privy to.

“I could. But even I know that would only make everything worse, and you’re already dealing with enough bullshit right now. I don’t need to add to the pancake pile of misery.” He stilled as the blankets shifted slightly, Virgil’s dark eyes peeking up at him, eyeshadow streaking down his face, more raccoon like than ever. “Let me help, kit?” He asked softly, Virgil’s eyes searching his for a long moment, before he nodded minutely, shifting to make room for Remus.

He didn’t hesitate. He slipped under the covers, Virgil squeaking as he slid in behind him, pulling Virgil onto him, his head resting on Remus’s chest, their legs tangled around each other, Remus’s head resting atop Virgil’s as he gently ran his hands up and down Virgil’s arms to ground him, humming softly, slowly absorbing and siphoning some of the anxiety and fear and negativity from Virgil, into himself. Virgil let out a soft sound, halfway between a whimper and a sigh, and he shushed him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Y’know you don’t hav ‘t Rem.” Virgil slurred, eyelids drooping closed as the stress leaked out of him, his anxiety returning to normal levels as Remus took the extra.

“It’s ok, kit. I can handle it. You’ve already done enough, for today. Later I’ll go up there and give them a piece of my mind, for making you so miserable.” He smiled at Virgil’s small laugh, the emo pressing closer to him, and Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him carefully close. “Get some sleep, Vee. I’ve got you.”

“m’kay. Ree? ‘M sorry. I… missed you.”

…

That was when it had started. It was small, at first, and he attributed it to his usual bumps and bruises, a sore back was rather tame compared to what he usually dealt with, of course. Still, he took it slow that day, choosing to rabbit hole down youtube, instead of wreak his usual havoc. He was still coming down from the effects of all the anxiety he’d absorbed in Virgil’s room, after all, and he didn’t want his creations getting away from him and doing actual harm elsewhere.

But the pain only grew.

Soon, his whole back was sensitive and tender to the touch. It hurt to bend, to stand, to move, to stretch. Even resting against the couch was a no go, any kind of pressure on it hurt like hell, made him bite his lip to contain the hiss trying to escape his lips.

But he suffered through it in silence. Sometimes, he thought Janus knew something was wrong, his gaze lingered on Remus for a moment too long, he watched a little too closely as he shifted so his back wasn’t against the back of his chair, a small wince when he laughed, a forced smile here and there, Janus could see through them all, but he didn’t ask.

Virgil was almost as bad. He’d lived with them, after all, and he was almost as sharp as Janus. After the wedding, he’d been visiting more often, which meant at all, really, but once a week turned into near daily, as Remus made sure to make him feel welcome, and Janus started warming back up to Virgil, started to close the icy abyss between them.

It was Virgil who apologized first, to Janus. It was stuttering and slow, and a bit rambling and incoherent, but that didn’t matter. Janus knew what he was trying to say, could feel the sincerity of it, and before Virgil had even finished, he’d swept him up into a hug, using all of his arms, Virgil melting against him with a quiet sob, repeating the same soft words he’d said to Remus after the wedding for Janus.

“I missed you.”

…

Objectively, Remus knew the others had wings. The light sides, that is. They didn’t appear in the videos, of course, only actually manifesting in the mindscape itself. He knew Roman’s were delicate monarch butterfly wings that he usually kept folded carefully against his back like a cape, and that he loved their look but hated how fragile they were, always having to be careful not to rip the paper-thin membranes. A hint towards the fact that Roman wasn’t as strong as he said he was, that he was, in fact, easily broken. He’d been allowed to feel them, once, it was like touching a cloud, soft dust coming away on his fingers in oranges and blacks, and no matter how much they had fought and scuffled in the imagination he had never once even dreamed of going after Roman’s wings, though they were his obvious weak spot. One clean shot of an arrow, one stab of a spear, one slash of a sword, would be all it took, but despite what they all thought, he did have some morals, and he would rather kill himself than steal flight from Roman. So, wings? Off. Limits.

Patton’s wings were the incredibly soft looking, the fluffy wings of a mourning dove. Soft tan and black speckled, with a smooth cream underside, he roosted the most of all of them, fluffing up and resettling his feathers frequently, a self-soothing habit that made the moral side even more adorable than he already looked.

Logan’s were the smooth, almost blue black and white speckled sharp wings of a peregrine falcon. He usually kept his primly tucked against his back, though if you sat near him, sooner or later they would stretch out, resting against whoever was near. He’d never admit it, but he loved it when the others stroked his feathers, preened them, while he read or studied or planned out a schedule. It helped focus him, and he found that touch easier to reach out and ask for than hugs or other kinds of touch.

And Virgil. Virgil, whom had switched sides, had grown so much, had started letting them back into his life, had earned his wings through his hard work, his steady determination, through his acceptance. And they were beautiful.

He complained about them, of course, more often than not, but Remus could see through the grumbling protests, to the pride underneath. Because he’d gained the magnificent wings of a Scarlet Macaw. They were a brilliant red, green, yellow, blue rainbow, and spread the widest of any of the side’s wings, the most powerful in flight, though Logan’s were, of course, the fastest.

He’d been so self-conscious of them, at first. They’d grown in after the accepting anxiety videos, making Logan theorize that they were earned when a side was truly accepted. He’d avoided their calls for three days, after they came in, terrified out of his mind, before he couldn’t resist the pull of the summons anymore. But they’d all fawned over them, asking if he knew how to care for them, patiently teaching him how to groom them, broaching the topic of letting someone else help. It took a lot of time before he let that happen, before he trusted any of them enough to even come near his wings, to stop flinching whenever anyone reached towards him, pressing them tighter than was healthy against his back more often than not, cramping them painfully. But he got there.

He wasn’t all that surprised, even, when Janus came out of his room, not long after the whole wedding debacle part two, electric boogaloo, swearing up a storm, furious as all hell, dark black wings in disarray, just a splash of vibrant yellow marking the top of his coverts.

“Yellow headed blackbird. Nice.” He commented idly, Janus simply giving him a withering stare, before pulling on his gloves and heading upstairs, no doubt to rip into the light sides, not that they could change it back. It was the mindscape’s decision, and there was no going back. At least Virgil would commiserate. “At least they go with your theme!” He called, laughing as he heard the door slam.

…

In retrospect, he was an idiot.

To be fair, he was always an idiot. He was sure the others would argue against that statement, which made a soft, fuzzy feeling grow in his chest, that nearly numbed some of the excruciating agony wracking his body.

He’d been laying on his stomach, chin propped up on his hands, idly playing with some new software on his laptop. It used the camera on the computer to register where your eyes were looking at the screen, and used his eyes as the pen to draw. It was a good way to keep himself distracted, it took a lot of focus, but he’d gotten sucked in pretty quickly, excited at the prospect of trying out new styles and techniques.

So, he didn’t notice, at first, the now normal ache that had been going on for the better part of two months, starting to consolidate into lines of pain on his back. He gasped at a sudden shock of fiery heat, momentarily breathless. He moved to sit up, to try and grab a heating pack, or the heated blanket he’d snatched from Janus, which had seemed to help, but the movement sent another shock of heart rending agony through his chest, and he fell back to his stomach on the bed, hands fisting the blankets as wave after wave of piercing, soul shattering, mind numbing torment wrenched through his marrow.

It was fine, it was fine, it was manageable, he could handle this, he’d had worse, he could deal with this, figure out the rest later.

It felt like his back was aflame. He could feel sticky wetness soaking his shirt. He could feel his muscles pulsing and pounding, could taste copper in his throat, could hear his pulse in his ears, and he realized distantly he was screaming, unable to stop, tears leaking down his face, all he was aware of, all he could feel, was the lightning tracing itself down his back, burning brands into his shoulders, like he’d been mauled by a dragon, like burning, breaking, pulsing, pounding, rushing, breaking, desperate agony.

With one final pulse of flaming excruciation, he felt his back split open, the pain recedes slightly, gasping in air as his scream died on his lips, shaking from the force of his desperate, gasping sobs.

He heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Heard his door slam open, but he couldn’t look up, his knuckles white against the blanket, his teeth grinding so hard he was surprised they hadn’t already turned to nubs, and he let out a sharp, short yowling gasp as someone touched his back, trying to flinch away, the movement sending black spots across his vision. He felt a soft touch against his forehead, cupping his cheek, and he managed to blink his vision clear, surprised to see Patton’s pale face, eyes huge behind his glasses.

“hey… da…d” He managed weakly, closing his eyes against a sudden muscle contraction, barely stifling his scream to a whimper, unable to even joke as he normally would.

“Remus. We are going to help. What happened?” Logan asked, and he gasped in another breath to try and steady himself.

“Dunno know, f-or once. W-was just… dr-awing. Been s-ore, two m-onths.” He answered, unable to stifle a cry as Logan attempted to move his shirt. “Pl-ease. Hurts, please…” He didn’t know what he was asking, exactly, just that he needed it to stop, he couldn’t think, it just had to stop!

“Hey. It’s gonna be ok, ok? Just… Logan’s gonna take care of you. It’s gonna hurt, but he’s helping, ok?” Virgil, kneeling on the bed before him, covering his clenched fists with his hands, gently rubbing circles on them, pressing their foreheads together. “it’ll be ok.” Then Logan pulled up his shirt, and he screamed, blacking out.

…

“Oh. Oh Remus.” Roman gasped, face paling as he took in the red that covered his back, the two deep, pulsing slits on either side of his back, running from his shoulder blades to the base of his back.

“what… what is this?” Janus asked quietly, eyes wide, Remus’s scream still ringing in his ears. He’d never, never heard Remus sound like that, scream like that, a true, piercing, pained scream.

“two months… that was… that was the wedding. When… when Thomas accepted the dark parts of the mind.” Virgil said softly, not moving from his place close to Remus, not willing to let go.

“it’s his wings. Lo, it’s his wings! They didn’t… they must not have formed right. They’re stuck.” Patton, voice shaking and horrified. “they’re trying to get out.” Logan inhaled sharply. He could see it now, the new muscles moving and shifting underneath the skin, the wing joints struggling to free the new appendages, pulling at the rest of his skin, making the slits wider.

“I need to manually free them, or there may be permanent damage to both his wings and his spine. It’s not going to be pleasant. Patton, can you go heat up some water and bring me some soft towels? Roman, go get the first aid kit from under the sink. We’ll need the bandages.” They both complied with a lingering look back at Remus, who was trembling, moaning softly in his uneasy unconsciousness.

“What do you need from me, Logan?” Janus asked, eyes meeting Logan’s, who adjusted his glasses.

“Help hold him down? I don’t know if he has the strength for it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to thrash or lash out. I certainly wouldn’t underestimate it from him.”

“I’ve got his arms.” Virgil said, startling them both. They hadn’t realized he was paying attention. Logan nodded sharply, and Janus climbed onto the bed, pinning down Remus’s legs. Logan pulled on latex gloves, taking a large breath, before carefully reaching into the leftmost slit.

Remus did thrash weakly, falling still after only a moment, though soft whimpers escaped his lips, breath gasping and stuttering, Virgil ceaselessly murmuring to him, trying to convey safety. Slowly, Logan navigated the crumpled wing out into the open, feathers matted and sticky with blood. The other was a bit trickier, it seemed to be caught on something, and he winced as he had to painfully wrench it to get it out, concern growing as Remus didn’t react to the movement, even his whimpers ceasing.

“Good. That went well.” Logan mumbled, looking up as Roman and Patton reappeared in the doorway, faces paling at the bloodied wings. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I hope.” Only Janus and Virgil caught those two mumbled words, as Logan ushered the two over.

“Each of you take a wing. We need to stretch them out to their full length to try and get circulation going. Cleaning them thoroughly with the warm washcloths and water should also help in that department. Once we get all the viscera off, we can work on grooming. I’m going to attempt to clean his back and asses the total damage to it, I expect he’ll need stiches up and down his back, once we get the bleeding staunched.” Logan explained, already dabbing at Remus’s back with the cloth, relieved to find most of the bleeding had already stopped, it was mostly dried blood coating his back.

“Virgil. You don’t have to keep going.” Janus said softly, catching Roman’s attention, who was working on Remus’s right wing.

“I do. I… all the times, he’s helped me, I have to at least do this.” Virgil answered, eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead.

“what do you mean? What are you doing?” Patton asked, not looking up from his work.

“He’s absorbing Remus’s pain. Taking it on himself so Remus doesn’t feel it. Remus can do the same, and often did, helping when Virgil’s anxiety was at unsustainable levels.” Janus explained, pushing back his hair before replacing his hat.

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine, ok? He’s the one who needs help right now.” He snapped, the room falling into a tense, focused silence as they all worked, carefully dabbing, sewing, straightening, trying to get his wings into any semblance of normalcy.

Virgil just prayed that they’d still be usable. Two months. Two months, it must have hurt like a son of a bitch, and Remus hadn’t said anything! He was supposed to be the observant one, the worry wart, he was supposed to expect things to go wrong and keep an eye out for when they did. He should have known, should have realized, after Janus got his, that of course Remus wouldn’t be far behind. Especially after he’d helped him, when no one else had and he knew, knew, in his soul, that Remus helping him that day was what shifted everything. It was his fault, Remus was like this because of him.

“It isn’t your fault, Vee.” Janus murmured, sitting down beside him, setting his gloves aside. “I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t think it was this severe. He hid it well.”

“He always does. He’s an actor, remember?” Virgil mumbled back, letting himself lean back into Janus’s embrace, letting the silent tears slip down his face.

“We’re finished.” Logan said, wiping sweat away from his brow, cleaning up the washcloths and repacking the first aid kit, leaving it tucked under Remus’s bed. “I’ve sutured and bandaged his back, and it should heal up nicely, given time. His wings will need daily stretching, it may be hard for him to flex them to their full length on his own, given their extensive cramping, so we may need to help him hold them there. But the overall condition of the wings themselves is encouraging. Given time, he should be able to fly and they should have no lasting permanent damage.” Patton let out a deep sigh, sinking to the floor in relief, arms wrapped around his knees. Roman sunk down beside him, pulling him into a hug, Patton wrapping his wings around the both of them.

“Thank you, Logan.” Janus said softly, teasing his fingers through Virgil’s rainbowed feathers, feeling him melt against him with a shudder.

“Of course. I would suggest we all go get some rest. I would expect him to stay sleeping for quite a while, given the amount his body needs to heal. I’ll check on him this evening, to change his bandages, but he should be alright. Virgil, you can stop, now. He should be in a relatively minimal amount of pain, now.” Logan added, shooting a quick look at Virgil that held an entire lecture, and Virgil sighed, letting go, slumping further against Janus at the exhaustion washing over him.

“alright. Let’s go, Pat. I’ll keep you company.” Roman helped Patton to his feet, hesitating a moment, stroking Remus’s new wings gently. “Get well soon, Rem. I can’t wait to fly with you.” He murmured, smiling once at the others as he departed with Patton in tow.

“I’ll be going as well. I know there’s no use in trying to convince either of you to leave, though I would encourage you both to try and get some sleep as well, especially you, Virgil.” Logan said, nodding sharply once in farewell, closing the door behind him.

“They are stunning. I expect he’ll be pleasantly surprised, at how they turned out.” Janus mumbled against Virgil’s back.

“We match, kinda. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Virgil replied, smiling as he felt Janus’s laugh against his back.

They were beautiful. They shimmered like gemstones, sparkling and shifting iridescence. They started off a sparkling amber, before fading into a soft yellow, then glimmering green, which shifted into vibrant reds, bright oranges, deep blues, at the slightest shift of the light. They were relatively small, compared to the other’s wings, but that was natural. They were easily recognizable as hummingbird wings, rather fitting for the ever-energetic chaotic side. Logan had carefully shifted them so they were tucked against Remus’s back, in the position that would cause as little discomfort as possible, though no matter what he did, they were going to ache a bit.

“He’s going to be ok, Vee.” Janus murmured, wrapping his wings around Virgil, cocooning him in dark softness and warmth, something that never failed to put Virgil at ease, and soon enough, he was drifting off. Janus yawned himself, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, knowing he’d regret falling asleep like this in the morning, but he couldn’t help it as his eyes drifted shut.

…

He was sore. But less sore than he’d been in weeks. He shifted, wincing at the dull ache that came with it, before realizing he felt something soft and light against his back, against his skin. He knew, before even opening his eyes, he knew.

He should have figured it out sooner. Should have realized, and maybe he had, but he’d hoped he was wrong, been in denial, because why would he have gained wings? He hadn’t done a thing to earn them, he didn’t deserve them, maybe he should just cut them off himself, before the others saw them and started asking questions.

“Remus.” Well shit. There went that plan. He managed to crack his eyes open, looking up at the slightly blurry face of Janus. “You do deserve them. You have earned them. Everyone was worried about you.” He winced, Janus always could tell just what he was thinking. “only when you’re lying, to yourself or to others. Which you are doing now.”

“I’m not. I don’t deserve them, they’re probably horrible anyway, ugly and twisted and unusable and good for nothing, just like me.” He mumbled, looking away as he felt Virgil take his hand.

“They’re beautiful, Ree. I promise, they’re none of those things. Logan said you’ll need to stretch them and build up strength, but you’ll be flying in no time. Take a look, yeah?” He agreed grumblingly, letting them help him to sit up, legs dangling off the side of the bed. Carefully, Virgil grabbed hold of one of the wings and stretched it out to its full length, Remus’s breath catching as he stared, incredulous. Slowly, he reached out, running a hand through them, marveling at their softness.

“I’m gonna let go. Try and hold it here, okay?” Virgil asked, and he nodded. Virgil let go, and for a moment, it stayed extended, before it slowly curled against his back. With a small shake, Remus ruffled and resettled them, wincing at the tug moving them caused.

“That’s good, Ree. That’s really good.”

“I… I’m really gonna be able to fly?” Remus asked, voice small and almost afraid, and instantly, Virgil wrapped him in a hug, letting Remus tuck his head against his shoulder.

“Yes. We’re all going to help teach you, help take care of them, help take care of you, and we’re all going to be there for your first flight. I promise.” Janus joined in, hugging Remus from behind, careful of his wings, a steady weight against his back.

“You’re going to be a magnificent terror of the skies, Remus.” He let out a small laugh at that, hiccupping on a sob that escaped his lips instead, as he pressed tight into his best friends’ arms, both of them murmuring reassurances and encouragements and compliments, and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere, anywhere else.

93 notes · View notes

sexy-monster-fucker · 5 years ago

Text

Same Thing

Quentin Beck|Mysterio x Spider-Girl!Reader

Prompt: the reader and Mysterio are enemies. Mysterio is in love with the reader, but she thinks he is just playing a game with her. (Spider-Girl is a legal adult and has the last name Parker)

warning: minor smut and smut, nsfw

word count: 2,655

~~~

You stood in front of him again. He was stuck to the wall, limbs unable to move. You had him right where you wanted him. It was like a game between the two of you. It was like he longed to be caught. This was always the same. You two would fight, he would get caught, you’d stick him to the wall, then you’d taunt each other for hours. Flirting, sometimes touching each other.

“Spider-Girl, long time no see,” Mysterio smiled at you. You rolled your eyes under your mask, “It’s been like a day.” He could not get his smile off his face, “Feels like years when I am away from you.” You scoffed at him. You inched closer to him, “You realize we’re enemies, right? You’re the bad guy and I’m the good guy?” He attempted to shrug his shoulders, but he was unable to move, “You say enemies, I say friends. Possibly even lovers.” You walked over to the wall he was stuck to and leaned beside him. His eyes followed everything you did. He was amazed by you. He was in love with you. You smiled at him under your mask, “You don’t even know me.”

“That’s a lie,” you thought. He did know you. He was actually fairly close to you outside of the suit. He was always at your work. He would always be in your department with you.

“I would love to know you if you’d let me,” he teased you. You shook your head at him. You began to walk away, “Those should wear off in a couple hours, you know the drill.” You stopped. You turned to look at Quentin. He looked amazed by you. “Don’t do this, Parker. You can’t fall in love with a villain,” you told yourself. You knew it was too late. You knew your feelings for him. They were becoming increasingly hard to hide. You walked back to him, raising your mask to your nose. His eyes widened. You pressed your lips to his. His cheeks were pink. You pulled away from him, “Don’t read too much into that.” He licked his lips, “I’m totally reading into it.”

You smirked at him. Quentin bit his lip, “You’re really just going to play with my feelings and leave?” You placed a hand on his cheek. You ran your hand to his chest. He groaned silently, “You’ve never touched me this much.” You leaned into his neck, placing your lips to it. You began to bite and suck at his neck. He let out a deep breath, “Oh my God.” You pulled away, leaving a deep purple hickey on his neck. He looked at you deeply. He wanted to reach for you, but he was stuck in place. He hated feeling out of control. You began to walk away again. “Wait,” he stopped you, “You’re gonna get me all turned on and just leave?” You smiled to yourself. You shot a web at his crotch. He moaned. “Just some webs? Wow,” he rolled his eyes. The webs you shot at him began to vibrate. Quentin began silently moaning, “Wh-what did you just put on me?” You chuckled, “That should get you off just in time for the webs to be gone.” He gritted his teeth at you, “I’d rather you be over here doing it yourself.” You waved at him, “Too bad.” With that you left.

It was the next day. You thought about Quentin. You thought about how you played this game with him constantly and he had no idea who you were. You thought about the big bruise he left on your face yesterday during your brawl. You had told your boss that you had ran into your door frame. It did not make sense, but it kept him from asking too many questions.

You were working on a serum to help rats regrow limbs. Nothing had been a success yet, but you had not given up yet. Your boss, Dr. Connors, entered your area. “Miss Parker? You have a guest,” he led Quentin in. You felt your heart rate speed up. Quentin smiled at you, “Hey, Y/N.” His smiled was different than it had been last night. He was different here. He did not flirt with you here like he did there. He was subtle here. You could not tell which was the real him.

“Hi, Quin. How’s it going,” you continued with your work. “I need some advice,” he leaned his body against your back. You blushed at him. “Y/N, you’d consider us friends, right? And friends can talk to friends about their personal stuff, right,” Quentin asked. You nodded, “Of course, Quin.” “So, you’re a girl. If a guy flirts with you and shows obvious signs that he is into you, then you kiss him, is that a sign you like him? Because I don’t know how else to take it,” he questioned you. You felt your heart sink. He was talking about you. You stuttered, “Well ev-every girl is different. If it was me, that would be a definite sign.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N,” Quentin changed the subject. “I ran into my door frame last night. Y’know, I was a little tipsy. Accidents happen,” you laughed to yourself. Quentin took your face in his hands, “Hmp. You must’ve hit it pretty hard.” You laughed awkwardly, “L-Looks like you had an interesting night. Is that a hickey on your neck?” Quentin’s expression suddenly became that of a lovesick man. “Oh, God. You have no idea. Since I can trust you, we can talk about it,” Quentin bit his lip. You smiled at him. You enjoyed seeing him happy. “So, I was out with Spider-Girl last night. And my God, does that girl get me going. I think I am in love with her, Y/N. Like for real. She just makes me feel things I have never felt for anyone before,” he was serious. You giggled, “You don’t even know who she is.” Quentin stared at you deeply, “I know that.” It was like he was trying to tell you something. It was almost as if he knew. But that was ridiculous.

“So, tell me more about her,” you smiled. Quentin went on to talk about all his time with Spider-Girl and why he was in love with her.

It was later that night. You stood in the building where Quentin normally came to fight you. He was later than normal. You felt your arm hairs stand up and you began stretching, preparing yourself for your fight with him. You heard his feet land on the ground lightly. “Alright, Beck. Let’s go ahead and get this started,” you turned to see him holding flowers. Your cheeks flooded with heat. You stood completely still.

“I know it’s you,” Quentin spoke softly, “I saw the bruise on your face today. I saw your lips. I had been questioning it for months. I knew I had to leave something on you to confirm my suspicions.” He seemed disappointed, but relieved. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you avoided confirming yourself to him. He smiled, “That’s what I thought you’d say. You can’t let your enemy know who you are. Come on, Y/N. We don’t have to keep fighting.” He began walking towards you. You held your hand out as if to threaten him with your webs. That did not stop him, he continued. “Q-Quen- I mean, Mysterio! Stop. You know I will use them,” you were shaking mildly. You backed up with every step he took. “I don’t want to hurt you! You know that. You heard everything I said about you today, you know I’m in love with you.” You shook your head, “You have no idea who I am, Mysterio! And it needs to stay that way!” Your back ran into the wall. He was directly in front of you now. You looked up at him, his body towered over you. He placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “I love you, Y/N,” he spoke softly.

This was it. Should you finally show him? Everything he had said was sincere. You knew how he felt. But this could come and bite you in the butt one day. He wouldn’t do that. You trusted him.

You grabbed your mask and ripped it from your face. You looked up at him. He smiled with relief, “I knew it.” “I felt like if I told you... you would see me dif-” “Shhhh. I would never see you different. You mean everything to me,” he pressed his lips to yours. You ran your fingers through his hair. He had you pinned against the wall. The tension between the two of you had your Spidey Sense going crazy. He was biting his lip and staring into your soul. You were longing for him, but this felt wrong to you. You thought about how if circumstances were different you would have went for him long ago.

He was so close. Things were different when he was the one in control. You were used to his hands being down, you being the one in control was the norm for you. This felt odd, but pleasurable. He ran his hand down the side of your body, trying to bring your attention to him. You were lost in thought. “Quentin,” you began, “You have no idea how long I have been wanting to tell you about this. About me. I wanted to be with you for so long, but I knew from how you talked about Spider-Girl at work that if I had ever tried anything you would have shot me down. It was so hard to know the man you wanted was in love with you, but he didn’t know it was you.” Quentin smiled at you, “But things are different now. We can have whatever kind of relationship you want.” You blushed under his gaze, “I... I...” You could not get any words out. You were so aroused and embarrassed all at once that you did not know how you felt or what you wanted.

You pressed your lips to his. He kissed you passionately. You took his bottom lip between your teeth. Quentin rested his forehead on yours, “Where is this going, Y/N?” You felt your cheeks grow a deep red under him. “It’ll go wherever you want it to, Quin,” you whispered. He smiled at you, “If you say so.” Quentin crashed his mouth into yours, his tongue venturing it’s way into your mouth. Your tongues intertwined. He gripped your breast in his hand causing you to let out a quiet moan. He pulled away from you, breathing heavy, “Take your clothes off.” He began to undress in front of you. Your eyes went to the floor, you were embarrassed to see him naked. You hit the spider in the middle of your chest to loosen your suit. You began to remove your suit in front of him when you saw his clothes hit the floor. He got undressed so fast you couldn’t even compete. You stood in front of him still in your underwear. He was completely naked, his penis staring you in the face. He admired you, “God, you look gorgeous.” You smiled, “Thanks.” He pinned you against the wall, his erect penis rested against your stomach. You groaned. He smirked at you, “You like that, don’t you?” You nodded. He began to kiss and nip at your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging at it in your arousal. He reached his hands around your back, unstrapping your bra. You dropped it to the floor. He stared at your exposed breasts. His hand ventured up your side, stopping at your breast. He pinched at your hard nipples causing you to moan loudly. He smiled, “Oh, so you like that? I can do so much more than that.” He placed his mouth on your nipple and bit down. You leaned your head back in ecstasy, “Quin, holy fuck.” His tongue flicked at your nipple between his teeth.

Quentin ran his hand down the front of your underwear. His mouth opened in awe, “So wet and warm already? Am I really do this to you, Y/N?” You nodded at him. He licked his lips. He tugged at the elastic around your waist, “Take these off for me, would you?” You did as he asked and removed your panties, stepping out of them as they fell around your ankles. He growled with pleasure, “That’s better.” His fingers found their way back to your warmth. He began making tight circles on your clit. You threw your head back calling out to him. Your legs became shaky and weak. You could feel your legs about to give out as could he. He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around him instinctively. The under belly of his cock rested at your opening. He grinded himself against your opening, groaning at the sensation. You ran your fingers up his chest sending goose bumps across every part of his body. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, placing your lips against his ear, “Quin, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” You breathing was heavy in anticipation. “I would do anything for you, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear.

You leaned back against the wall giving him access to you. He positioned himself at your opening, looking you in the eyes. He entered you slowly, making sure you could feel every inch of him. You called out to him, your fingers digging into the back of his neck. He slammed his hole body into you, picking up speed. This was the closest you two had ever been. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, his prickly chest hairs grazing you with each of his movements. He huffed deep breaths in your ear, his chin resting on the space between your shoulder and your neck. You both were sweating, your skin practically sticking together. His hair was falling down in strands in front of his face. His cock was hitting you in all the right places causing your walls to tighten around him. He moaned in your ear, “Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock like this.” You could feel yourself growing tighter around him, your orgasm approaching. “Qu-Quentin, I-I’m about to finish,” you moaned to him. You could feel him smile into your neck. He began to kiss your neck, “Good, baby.” He began pounding into you more aggressive than before. Your orgasm ripped through you. You called out to him, your eyes squeezing tight as your walls became tighter then ever before. He moaned your name as you clenched around him. He spilled inside of you, not stopping his pace. He rode the waves of both of your climaxes.

He held you in place for a moment, stopping his movements. He kissed your cheek softly, “I’ve never been this close to you. This... this is so important to me. I love you.” He became kind and gentle suddenly. It was a giant shift compared to he man who had been ravishing you before. You kissed him gently. He pulled out of you, resting his forehead against yours. He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you on the nose. You ran your fingers through his hair, “That was amazing, Quin.” He did not want to let you go, he loved being close to you. He wanted to be this close to you forever. “It was perfect,” he muttered, “I never want this moment to end.” He brushed his lips against yours.

“You should come stay with me tonight,” Quentin proposed. You smiled, “Maybe I will.” He slowly helped you to the ground and the two of you began getting your loose articles. You both began getting dressed again.

~~~

// Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, I will happily add you to the tag list :) Hope you enjoyed! \\

[Tags]

/ @buckyshattergirl / @pinejayy / @princessplantasaurus / @gottalovebroody ~ @charmed-asylum / @citrussaurus / @hehybrid666 / @givemelifeorgiveme / @dragonqueenfk / @scarletpines / @givemelifeorgiveme /

#mysterio x reader #quentin beck x reader #mysterio #quentin beck #mysterio smut #fanfic #SexyMonsterFics #spider-girl #mcu #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader

322 notes · View notes