#sincerely the stranger you call brother | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neiptune · 13 days ago

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this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it.

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #hq x reader

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 29 days ago

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PLEASE YOUR HUSBAND

KINKTOBER DAY 29 - FACIAL WITH SHIVERING SOLIDER

Pairing.| Shivering Solider x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband returns home distant, distraught and troubled. He questions your loyalty to him.

Warnings.| Dubcon, shellshock, head m!receiving, fingering, groping, humping, accusing.

Word count.| 2k

What was meant to feel like a blessing, being reunited with your husband, your family back at whole again, celebrating the succession of the war, had instead felt like cautiously walking through a landmine field.

As the train arrived and the carriages emptied of soulless men in uniform, the perturbation left your mind as you recognised your husband at the docks, only to boomerang back to you. Most of the men had this same expression locked on, broken. Your dearest husband was included. Your feelings and emotions were quickly followed by neglect as your husband acknowledged his brother, Noah first. He primarily stared at you as if you were an unwanted stranger. When he mumbled your name, the tears flooding your eyelids split out down your cheeks. You cried out his name and latched onto him, his frame was stiff as you felt his chest rise and fall with shallow breathing.

Your husband looked down to your toddler Harry who was holding onto your calf, almost completely hidden behind you. The little bubba he cradled was gone. Harry shared his eyes and your hair. Your husband knelt down to Harry and breathed slowly as he rubbed his cheek, his eyes twitched as he looked back up to his younger brother.

The journey home was silent, your husband’s eyes wandering across the town he called home, yet none of it felt familiar anymore. Noah spoke to ease the awkwardness, however your husband would only give muttered blunt responses.

Noah was a farmer, he was exempted from being drafted. But still suffered the consequences of the war. It was unknown if your husband was envious of him, being blinded to the scenes on the fields he walked which tormented his mind.

As your husband got out of the car, staring blankly at your cottage, Noah looked back at you.

“If you need anything, just call, yeah?” He asked, a hopeful smile on his lips. Your tears glistered your eyes as you quickly nodded. “Just give him a bit of time to adjust” Noah sighed. Noah’s arm reached back onto your shoulder and his look was filled with guilt and pity. When you looked out to your husband, he was staring at you two with a stern expression.

That night, you cooked him dinner but he sat on the porch the whole night as he kept a cigarette in between his lips constantly. You sat anxiously in the lounge room, watching him through the window until you drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

Noah’s words were empty of hope as the days rolled over into weeks. Harry was having a tantrum and you were failing to calm him down. Your lips trembled as you bounced him on your arm as you walked around in circles in his room. Your husband was asleep for once and this was the last thing that you needed. The way your heart was sucked in between your throat was stressful as you heard your husband’s heavy footsteps emerging.

Your husband called out your name as you heard him creak on the floorboards. You whimpered out, begging your child to shush. “Can’t you fucking do anything!” Your husband bellowed, appearing in the doorway.

His features were beet red, eyes strained as his hands formed into balls. Immediately, you spat out your sincere, raw apologies as you desperately tried to calm Harry. Your husband grunted out and closed in on you.

“Give me him” he demanded with a huff.

“It’s okay sweetheart I just-”

“Give him to me!” He roared, almost snatching his Harry off of you. As you stood there in shock, you watched your husband wrap his arms around your son and coo by his ear. His dark eyes snapped onto your tearing eyes. “Leave and go make yourself useful elsewhere” he ordered, spinning his heel away from you.

Doing as you were told, you hurried out of the room and hid your eyes behind your sleeves. You tried to distract your storming thoughts by doing chores around the house, but Harry’s cries were stabbing at you. Eventually, your child’s tantrum mellowed out and the silence was just as agonzing.

His footsteps overwrought your shivering body as he approached you. “Men are meant to return home to their obedient wives” your husband stated harshly as he leant against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I am obedient” you sniffled.

“You can’t even get a child to sleep, what type of mother does that make you?” He exasperated as he drew closer to you.

“I can!” You argued defensively, your tone stricken by pain.

“Quiet” he shushed as he pressed his fingers to your wobbling lips.

His blue eyes lingered over your bare neck, the visible clearing of his throat made yours tighten. The same fingers on your lips gradually maneuvered down your neck, living a trail of goosebumps as his front began to merge with yours. Suddenly, he gripped onto your hidden breasts harshly and groaned out at the sensation.

You gasped and pushed his hands away in an overhasty manner. He scoffed at you as he eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. In guilt of your initial reaction, your face cringed and shoulder curled in as he suddenly towered over you.

“What? A husband can’t touch his wife?” he sarcastically questioned, his tone filled with spite.

“No! It’s just…” you trailed off, his deadly stare caused your throat to go dry, mind blanking out of a reasonable response.

“I see” he spat before storming out of the kitchen.

Three days later, you drove Harry to stay with Noah and his wife, Penelope. Your husband had woken up in the middle of the night screaming and you struggled to calm him, too afraid to touch him. But when you did try to snap him out of it, he hit you and held your throat down onto the mattress. You pleaded for your life as his black as night eyes twitched. Right when you believed you would see the light, he let go and flew off of you.

Harry stood in the doorway, crying as heavily as he physically could. You took a deep breath and went to comfort your child, your husband frozen against the wall as you hurried out of the bedroom. When Harry fell into a deep sleep, you found your husband back on the porch, a cigarette in between his lips as he sat in only his underwear. You urged him to come inside as he would freeze himself to death, but he ignored your presence. So you did all you could do, you pulled out your thickest blanket and hesitantly placed it over him.

Later on when you had returned home from Noah’s, you firmly washed the dishes, sniffing as your tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt him lingering behind you, sensing his eyes watching you. There were slow creaks behind you and you shuddered as you felt his breath against the back of your neck. His arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he pressed your back to his chest. It was calming, the touch that you longed for so desperately. He kissed your neck and you found your head leaning back against him.

“Tell me” he murmured as he kissed your neck again. You hummed submissively and closed your tired eyes. “How many men have you fucked?” he huffed, tightening his grip on your waist.

Your body went stiff underneath him and you were lost for words. As you attempted to turn around to face him, he held you in place. The longer you struggled to form a response, the more you were filling his beliefs.

“What, no, no I-” you stuttered as you felt your heart pound in your chest.

“I know you did sweetheart” he countered, nibbling on the skin on your neck. You whimpered against him as your body trembled.

“Darling no-” you shook your head, tears shedding from your stinging eyes.

“Shush, obedient doting wives would jump on their husbands’ cock at first chance. I’ve been waiting to see you on your knees, but you’re avoiding me like a disease” he retorted, his hands now groping onto your tits.

The tent in his pants was pressed against your ass as his hips slowly began to hump against you. The depths of his breathing was like he was a beast as he painfully massaged your breasts. His moans were rough, hands almost shaking from the lack of sexual desire his body had.

“I didn’t want to disturb you… You’ve hardly spoken to me” you sniveled.

“Was my service now an inconvenience for you?” he hissed, licking up to your jawline.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way!” you shrieked.

“Quiet” he ordered harshly and you obeyed. His hands scrunched up your dress, quickly roaming on your thighs. You grumbled out, your thighs naturally squeezing together as his fingertips teased your skin. “Do you know what I’ve sacrificed? To protect you? To protect Harry” he questioned, digits finding their way to your inner thighs.

“Please, I” you stammered.

“So, how many?” he questioned.

“None!” you yelped as he slipped his fingers under your panties.

“You sure?” he taunted quietly, pushing his digits inside of you.

“Yes my love, I love you!” you swore, cheeks beet red and throat closing in.

A short beat.

“Not even my brother?” he asked calmly. Your heart got caught in your throat. You tried to turn around once more but his hand kept your head to the front.

“Darling no!” You exclaimed.

“I saw the way you looked at him, do you think I’m stupid?” He snarled.

“No! I only want you! I love you with all of my heart!” You promised, sobbing pathetically.

Your husband hummed in satisfaction as his hands slid out, his fingers coated in your goodness. With a small step back, he guided you to turn around. Your big eyes glistered at him and he looked down at you. Slowly, his hand guided yours onto his erection and rubbed himself softly, a relieving moan trailing from his lips.

“Then why don’t you get onto your knees and please your husband?” He suggested with a sly grin.

Quickly, you fell to your knees, your hand quickly fumbled to free his length. His trousers were tugged to his knees by your needy hands. His cock flung out immediately, slapping your cheek in the process. You gulped, forgetting how large your husband was. Hesitantly, you stroked his hard member, observing the precum that leaked from his tip. It made your mouth water and you looked up to him for reassurance.

Your tongue swirled over his thick tip. Hands rested on the back of his thighs to support yourself as you ran your tongue down his length. Your husband groaned out, his rough hands petted your hair in contempt. From the sparks of pleasure, he felt like his knees would buckle in. His hands slipped underneath your hair and supported the back of your head as he encouraged you to take him further.

“Ugh! Fuck… Fucking lovely” he moaned out, feeling himself already climbing to the edge.

It had been so long for him. He needed this, needed to feel you. Your humming sent vibrations down his throbbing length, he felt his posture curl in as his needy hips began to thrust painfully into your mouth. You gagged out, forcing your tongue to remain poked out. It had been so long for you both, your thighs pressed together as you could feel yourself drip. Your hand massaged his balls, his eyes rolled back from impact. His hands tugged roughly at your roots.

“Gonna… Fucking gonna coat you” he grunted out as he felt his orgasm tease himself at the edge.

Quickly, he pulled out his length and pointed at your eyes. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as he jerked his wet dick quickly, his heavy moans and breaths echoed throughout the room. As he cried out, his white ropes shot at your face, coating your eyes, nose and mouth. He panted out, his hands untangling themselves from your hair. He smiled down at you and rubbed his hand over your face, smudging his semen over every inch, marking you as his.

“Let’s go back to bed” your husband breathed out as he lifted you up.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #shivering soldier x reader #shivering soldier #dunkirk 2017 #dunkirk cillian murphy

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strawberrystepmom · 6 months ago

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sanemi x f!reader. isekai au. lots of pining, emotional exploration, struggles of being isekai'ed. | divider thanks to @cafekitsune, wc 2.2k

Stranger in a strange land adopts a new meaning when you’re quite literally dropped into a world beyond your comprehension. Tonight, though, you are grateful for the infinite blanket of stars above your head. No light pollution, no city noise to interrupt the serenity of a moonlit night.

A breeze tickles your nose and you scrunch it in response, reminded of the reason you stepped outside in the first place.

A futile attempt to outrun your thoughts of Sanemi.

The wind always makes you think of him, something that would surprise no one if you were to be sincere with them about it. You sigh, kicking your legs out in front of you while they dangle off of the edge of your porch. You’re currently sharing a living space with the other single women who tend to the Ubuyashiki household, mostly maids who have taught you the best ways to stay cool in the oppressive summer heat and how to dab blood stains from the sleeves of your robes. Thankfully, they’re all tucked in their beds. There will be no witnesses to your self inflicted angst tonight.

Your friends have all moved along with their lives since being transported to this era, finding happiness and futures. More often than not, you feel like the odd man out, the only one still remaining poorly adjusted to a world that has welcomed you with open arms. The Hashira and Ubuyashiki family have been wonderful and gracious hosts. You’d even dare say that you’ve become friends with most of the people you have met since arriving no matter the cultural and linguistic differences of being a modern woman transported unexpectedly to 19th century Japan.

The outlier for you is a man. No matter where you are in history, what rabbit hole you’ve stumbled down, this will always be your issue. Your emotions feel heavier when you’re forced to lay down with them in the quiet dark of your room so you’ve decided to work them out within yourself outside and blissfully alone.

You wonder what he’s doing tonight, silently judging yourself for not sticking to your own commitment to being alone in body and mind.

One of the maids, Ritsu, teased you about him being off on a mission while you shot her a lok out of the corner of your eye before heading off to bed earlier. It’s unlikely that he will return here even if the mission has already been completed. It’s miles away from his estate, out of the way and impractical.

It would probably be a stretch to call any Shinazugawa particularly practical. You know his brother very well, his relationship with one of your friends has been something you’ve taken great pride in being able to watch and support. They adore one another. They’re safe and peaceful and happy and Genya smiles so often you wonder if his cheeks ever ache.

His brother on the other hand. Harder to read. Even harder to shake. He doesn’t glower in your direction anymore, not now. Unfortunately this means you are now always searching for deeper meaning in every glance he tosses your way. Was that a glimmer of something softer? One of those God forsaken rabbit holes you’d like to travel down to meet him beneath the surface and understand him better?

It’s hard to imagine a world where you’ll ever know. You gently push the heels of your palms against your eyes, exhaling loudly through your mouth. If this were your time you’d simply go out. Shake your ass. Scroll your phone. Do anything to distract you from the fear of falling in love with someone you doubt can ever possibly care as much about you in return.

“What are you doing out here?”

Assuming you’ve imagined his voice in your misguided lovesickness, you keep your hands pressed to your eyes and giggle, giving yourself a piteous little head shake. So delusional. You don’t hear footsteps or movement at all, just the same little breeze that tinkles the ornate wind chime above your head.

“Well?”

The wooden slats of the porch creak and whine slightly, finally encouraging you to drop your hands and look around you, only to be met with Sanemi sinking down to sit beside you, legs dangling in the same way yours are. A surprised smile crosses your face. He fights a twitch of his own lips, resting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward to create an illusion of some kind of distance between the two of you.

“The better question is what are you doing here? Weren’t you off on a mission?”

He chuckles. It fills you with warmth even though you wrap your arms around yourself, gently rubbing your hands along your forearms.

“Keepin’ track of me?”

You scoff playfully, looking toward your lap to hide a smile but deciding last minute to just let him see it. To show him how happy he makes you by just being himself. Crass and rough and, in his own words, hard. You like him just the way he is, especially when the wind ruffles his messy hair and the moonlight illuminates his silhouette.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows and point to yourself, still smiling at him, cheeks warm. “You wish. Word just travels fast when you hang out with the local gossips.”

You tilt your head backward, nodding toward the home you share with a dozen other women. They are not merely information peddlers although, admittedly, the thirteen of you have had more than one session of giggling and tittering over the happenings in the Hashira and Demon Slayer Corps as a whole. Dreamily wishing to find someone who loves each of you as much as Tanjiro loves the partner he has found in the second of your friends who was transported here alongside you. Theorizing about weddings and babies and spring breezes and the winter snows yet to come.

There is some gentle ribbing about the shine you’ve taken to the Wind Hashira and the way you literally light up when he approaches you but you are good at playing it off as nothing, tossing away the talk with an easy smile while insisting that this is just how you are. The teasing happens often enough that you wonder if they know about his late night visits; if they’ve overheard despite the pains you’ve taken to keep your enjoyment of his company quiet and your encouragement of him to do the same.

Did Ritsu mention him tonight knowing he’d eventually show up, leaving in a flash before you can even come down from the high of experiencing the things his body does for you?

“I wrapped things up early and figured I’d stop by before heading home.” Sanemi’s posture straightens out when he sits up to look at you fully, face turned. Wisteria colored eyes pour over your face, the fullness of your lips and your undone hair. “Wanted to see ya.” You wear a yukata that you purchased during a trip into the city with him a few months ago, loosely tied with one shoulder hanging lower than the other. His eyes land on your exposed collarbone and travel up the side of your neck, lingering on your lips while he scoots an inch closer.

“I might have missed you.” He mutters so quietly you know that it’s meant just for you and the heat in your cheeks makes its way down your neck, your chest and throat warming in response to the innuendo and weight of his gaze.

Scrunching your nose again, you look away from him and shift where you sit, the sleeve of your yukata working further down your upper arm while keeping you barely covered. “You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them considering how often you complain about others doing it.”

It’s easier for you to pretend he’s playing a game then it is to indulge that there may be truth to his words. He chuckles again from beside you, the tone as warm as the first time this evening despite your slippery attempts to pare down his words into tricky half lies.

“What makes you think I’m just saying it? When have I ever said shit to you senselessly?”

Answering a question with another question. The two of you probably know each other too well by this point if this keeps happening. You don’t have to answer one if you create another. Then another. You don’t ever have to take off the mask, another one perpetually beneath it even when your brows are knit together in pleasure and you softly mumble his name against his neck while he’s inside of you.

You have a feeling it’s sort of the same way for him even if he insists he hates pretense. For a quiet moment, you ponder exactly how to respond to him. You can’t outright say he isn’t being honest with no proof but you can play it off.

“You’ve said a lot of shit to me, Sanemi.” you joke. He tosses you a glance from the corner of his eye, not quite annoyed but enough that you understand that the poking isn’t going to work tonight.

He slides his hand across the porch to gently grab yours, scarred thumb running along the length of each of your fingers as though he’s counting them, ensuring they’re still in place and precious. There’s no doubt he’s rough around the edges, amongst other things, but he values you enough to stop by after a mission to check on you. To talk to you. To not just fall into your bed like he did the first time, adrenaline pumping and still smeared with streaks of blood across his forearms and neck.

You received a few glances for the state of your futon after that one yet you managed to explain it away like you do everything else. It was an accident! You cut yourself while sharpening the small dagger you keep in your room! You started your period! Always explaining away instead of embracing conveniently placed truths in your lap. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s home with you isn’t solely made in your bed. It’s why the fear he will never feel the same terrifies you enough it keeps you up at night counting stars like petals on daisies and asking them if he loves you or loves you not.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I like being around you?”

An honest question draws you out of your own mind. You feel one of your masks drop and don’t rush to replace it with another, simply shrugging. His hand slides up your arm to adjust your robe enough to keep you decent, a crooked finger pulling airy cotton over your upper arm and upper breast. Sanemi’s eyes remain locked on your face, his hands familiar enough with your body that he can adjust you without looking.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid that if I let you stay you may not like what you find and will eventually leave.” He raises his brows, fighting off a smile. Perhaps you aren’t the only one letting a mask or two fall tonight. “I’ve been in you and sure fucking liked it,” he jokes and you giggle, gently patting the outside of his thigh.

Things could be like this always, you consider. The two of you joking beneath the moon who laughs along with you, his hands on your body. Waking up next to him instead of ushering him out of the door as soon as your legs stop shaking for fear of being tied to him in people’s minds.

What if you just let it happen naturally instead of standing in your own way?

Without taking the time to consider your movement, you lean toward him and gently kiss the exposed skin of his chest, above the scars that crisscross his torso. He wraps one arm around your hips and pulls you closer to him, bodies touching as close as they can without it being obscene.

“Do you wanna come in?” You ask him, lips halfway pressed against his chest. He glances down at you and nods once, that same glimmer of fondness you have previously thought you imagined reflecting back at you when you meet his eyes.

“Will you stay tonight?”

Sanemi’s face further softens and he nods again, not bothering to hide his smile this time.

He lifts the sleeve of your robe over your shoulder, covering you entirely, and holds your hand as you stand up. Rising above him and planting your feet to help him up, the pair of you walk quietly into your adjoining room, careful not to alert anyone who may be looking on. You slide the door shut behind you, the wood gently snapping against the frame that cradles it, and pretend you don’t hear a giggle from the other side of the wall that indicates to you that one of your friends in the house knows what’s going on in your room.

But you’ll worry about that tomorrow. You reach to untie the knot at the waist of your robe while Sanemi closes in on you, cupping your chin and neck between scarred palms and kissing you with enough force you’re helpless to do a thing but kiss back.

Not that you’d want to do anything else.

#shinazugawa sanemi x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi imagines #kendall writes #kenemi

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samgirl98 · 7 months ago

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Orion Called Cepheus 2/2

They had come in the Batmobile.

Jazz was tense as Batman drove toward Gotham; Robin sat by him in the passenger seat. He would turn his head frequently to look at Danny. Jazz squeezed Danny’s hand hard. She couldn’t believe Danny would go behind her back and call someone else who knew nothing about his current situation.

She couldn’t believe her baby brother would want to leave her for his biological family. Jazz glared at her younger brother from time to time.

He looked away guiltily each time.

Danny was doing this for her. Jazz deserved to have a normal life. To go to university. She shouldn’t have to be on the run with him. She didn’t need him messing up her life.

The trip to Gotham was silent.

Jazz didn’t even raise her eyebrow when a secret passage was opened randomly at a back alley. Damned rich people. She held on to Danny’s small hand as they exited the Batmobile. She ignored Batman and Robin and looked around the cave. People were sitting by a huge computer.

Everyone stared at Jazz and Danny as they got out of the car. Jazz got in front of her brother to shield him from their eyes.

A man in a black suit with a blue bird turning into blue stripes on his arms got up. She may not know all the Gotham vigilantes, but she recognized Nightwing. He had an easy smile, probably trying to make her feel more at ease.

It didn’t work.

“Hi, I’m Nightwing. Nice to meet you and Danny.”

Jazz didn't shake Nightwing's hand. After a few seconds, Nightwing’s hand fell to his side, and his smile became a little strained.

“Right, well, welcome to the Batcave.”

Nightwing’s welcome echoed throughout the cave.

Jazz ignored the people in the cave and took her brother’s hand.

“So, now what,” she asked.

There was no way in the Infinite Realms she would let some fruit loops take her younger brother away from her. She had failed him once and wouldn’t do it again.

She felt a tug and looked down at Danny.

“Jazz, can I talk with Damian? I’ll be right back.”

“No,” she wanted to scream, “you’re staying with me!”

“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

I’ll be here if anyone tries anything.

The silence got louder somehow the fainter Danny and Damian’s footsteps got.

“You’re not taking my little brother from me,” was the first thing she said. “You’re all strangers. I won’t let you take him away from me. He’s all I have!”

Jazz clenched her fists, ready to fight if she had to. She would take Danny out of the cave, kicking and screaming.

Batman put a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“We would never pull you two apart,” he said. His mask was off, and Jazz could see the sincerity in his eyes.

She couldn’t help it. She broke down crying.

Damian stared into the distance as his younger (now truly younger) twin brother told his story.

Damian tightened his hold on his sword’s hilt. He wanted to hunt down the Fenton’s and strike them down. For the first time in a long time, he wished he didn’t follow his father’s rules.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner, akhi? You knew I was Robin. We could’ve been reunited long ago; we could’ve been heroes together.”

“I didn’t want to bother you or father. And—and I was being selfish. I loved being in an environment where I didn’t have to fight to the death, where I didn’t have to kill. I’m sorry for messaging you now, but I need help…”

Damian hugged Danny, “Don’t apologize for calling me. I’m glad you did.”

“I want to be safe,” Danny sobbed, his little fists clenched, “I want Jazz to be safe.”

“I failed you the first time; I won’t fail you again, Cepheus.”

When the twins got back, Danny noticed Jazz’s red-rimmed eyes.

“Jazz, what’s wrong?”

“I won’t lose you, little brother. I refuse.”

“Jazz, you’ll always be my big sister,” Danny said, “but you deserve to live your life. Go to university, get your PhD. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me.”

“You’re my little brother, and I will always put you above everything else.”

“That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, with my father’s help I should be able to return to my real age. I hope.”

Damian cleared his throat.

“I am grateful for what you have done for Danyal. I will not seek to take over your role, but thank you. Father, my siblings, and I can care for Danyal from everything that would harm him. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Jazz sniffed and took hold of Danny’s hands.

“Besides,” Bruce started, “there’s more than enough space here. You can stay for as long as you want. I can protect you and Danny from your parents. You don’t have to run anymore.”

Danny squeezed Jazz’s hand.

“I’m sorry for calling them without saying anything first, but Jazz, you deserve to live your life, too.”

Jazz looked at Danny’s young face and then at Bruce’s sincere expression.

“Thank you, I would like that,” she said while hugging Danny. Nothing would separate her from her brother.

#orion called cepheus #dc x dp #dp x dc

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lulublack90 · 15 days ago

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Prompt 11 - Home

@jegulus-microfic November 11, Word count 563

Previous part First part

Regulus cringed internally as he followed James, Sirius and Remus down the flight of stairs and out into the pouring rain. He had no idea what had possessed him to suggest the art show, but here he was clambering into the back of James’s car— apparently, Sirius had called eternal shotgun years ago—and on their way to the gallery on the other side of town.

“So when did you get into painting then?” Remus asked pleasantly while James and Sirius argued over what music they would put on.

“Oh, er, I think I always liked art. Our house was full of dusty old oil paintings, and I was fascinated by how the artists had made it look like the eyes were following you. Took me years to figure out how to paint them.” Regulus answered, going into far more detail than he usually would with someone who was basically a stranger, but something about Remus made him want to spill his guts. He was so calm and sincere that Regulus had a hard time not trusting him.

“Wait!” Remus gasped excitedly. “You know how to do that?” Regulus nodded. Remus grabbed both of Regulus’s hands in his and earnestly asked, “Can I commission a portrait of myself with the creepy eyes? I want to put it in Sirius’s office to freak him out.” Remus leaned conspiratorially. “He’ll hate it, but he won’t take it down in case he upsets either of us,” Regulus decided there and then that he was going to be very good friends with Remus Lupin.

“You pay for the supplies, and I’ll do it just for the knowledge that Sirius will wig out every time he sees it.”

“Deal,” Remus grinned at him mischievously and then grabbed the phone Sirius had plugged into the car’s speakers and put on NSYNC, to which two unhappy moans chorused from the front seats. “They both hate them, and I take great joy in singing the songs word for word as loudly as I can, so I’d cover your ears if I were you,” Remus warned before launching into ‘Bye Bye Bye’. Regulus grinned widely, loving how Remus was torturing his brother, not so much James, but this was just too much fun. He did something he never thought he’d do and he joined in.

“I know that I can't take no more. It ain't no lie. I want to see you out that door. Baby bye bye bye.”

“Oh gods, there’s two of them,” Sirius complained as he put his hands over his ears. Remus leaned forward and prised Sirius’s fingers away from his head as the last verses started playing and sang loudly into the gap he’d made.

“Bring it home Regulus!” Remus beamed, still holding Sirius’s hands away from his ears. So, Regulus did what he was told. He shuffled forward and scream-sang.

“Don't really want to make it tough. I just want to tell you that I've had enough. It might sound crazy, but it ain't no lie. Bye bye.”

“We’re here,” James said as he pulled into the car park and found a parking space. He turned to Regulus with the most dazzling smile. “You have the most beautiful voice, my love, shall we go look at your beautiful art?” Regulus felt the blush coming before the heat even hit his face. James was a total menace.

Next part

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edenalieth · 9 months ago

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LOVE CURSE

Pairing: god of love!minho x Y/N

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff with angst

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. When you got assigned to Minho to be bonded to your soulmate, he thought his mission would be done in a blink of an eye. Little did he know that his biggest ally would be his greatest enemy: love.

Words: 6K

A.N: first fic of 2024, we cheered! sorry, it took me more time than i thought it would,,, that photoshoot inspired me for this story, as well as the song "rewrite the stars". my bad for the possible mistakes, hope you enjoy :) any interactions are sincerely appreciated 🫶. — 240304

Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. Mortals thought it was all about fate and butt naked babies shooting their arrows at them. However, it wasn’t as perfect as they could imagine it and deities didn’t look like cherubs.

Minho had not a single memory about his past life. One day, he had opened his eyes after wandering into darkness for a really long time and had been welcomed by an angel. This angel happened to be his new brother, Felix, who introduced him to more brothers and sisters. Felix was always cheerful, he exhaled warmth and passion, a ray of sunshine in a solid form. He taught him everything he had to know for his new function as a love god. The good sides and the bad ones. Among the great ones was the chase, as they called it with his siblings. An interesting part where they used their magic to get close to their assigned human. Using ancestral methods, they tricked their customer into thinking that they knew each other since forever. This way, it was easier for them to establish a bond with their chosen one and Minho was always sincerely curious about their lives, hopes and dreams. Once the spark of love was strong enough, came the second step. The aim. It was truly thrilling for Minho to shoot an arrow. The way the wood of his bow perfectly fitted on his hand, like an extension of his arm. Or when his fingers, hooking on the silver bowstring, had to keep the perfect balance before releasing his arrow, which never failed to ignite the passion between two human beings. It gave him goosebumps every time. Finally, came the evanescence. When the arrow had reached the heart and the two lovebirds were united, the god of love had to disappear from their lives. Despite how poetic all this appeared to be, not everyone had the chance to get their « happy ever after ». Divinities exclusively interfered to match a mortal to its soulmate and they had a glimpse of their future together. Unfortunately, they sometimes had to tie someone to a person who would break them in the most awful ways. No matter how bad it would be, they would remain in love with them to the point where they would forget about themselves. Minho had forced himself to become insensitive to such situations but, deep inside, he despised it. He felt nauseous and anger was running through his veins as he had to watch his customers becoming miserable in front of his eyes. Occasionally, he wished he could bribe the lord of death, Chan, into getting rid of those pests… Sadly, this deity wasn’t easy to negotiate with. They did their duty and nothing else.

When you got assigned to Minho, he didn’t think much about it and started his chase. You were a university student, pretty cheerful and a bit grumpy when things didn’t go your way. You loved to meet new people and hang out with your friends. Reading was one of your favorite hobby and you had a chubby black cat named Churros. Funny, he thought with a small smile on his face. He liked animals because they weren’t fooled by his powers like humans were, especially cats. With their piercing gaze, they could see the magic surrounding the deities, energy flows swirling around them in tints of red, black and gold. Truly smart beings.

Minho put his backpack correctly on his shoulders as he looked over his surroundings. Students were walking toward the entry door, chatting, laughing or shuffling sleepily — probably some hangover or all nighters for exams. Finally, he spotted you. Walking through the crowd, he reached you and put a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, visibly surprised and wondering about who the hell was touching you unprovoked. You frowned, met by a face you had never seen before, a beautiful face. It was a guy. He seemed to be the same age as you, his skin looked smooth, his pink lips stretched into a gentle smile and his hair were copper brown. Slowly, you attached your eyes to his. Warm and deep.

The god of love knew it was the perfect time to use his powers, you were visibly confused. Coming closer to your face, he saw your eyes widening. « I’m going to help you. » he whispered to your ear. When he glanced at you again and noticed the light veil over your eyes. Magic was happening. Shaking your head, as if emerging from a dream, your face lit up. « Minho! Gosh, I really thought you were going to leave me alone again. You know that I hate that class… », you gritted your teeth saying that.

Perfect, he thought. From now on, he would be your longtime friend who happened to go to the same university as you. « I know, I know » he replied, ruffling your hair. You looked offended as your fingers were quickly brushing your locks in an attempt to style them back properly. « You… Do you know how long it took me to do this ? » you grumbled, your eyes sending daggers to your friend. Minho smirked, playing his role to get to know you better. « Are you doing all of this for Thomas ? » he mused, teasing you. Naturally, you were his assigned human and he knew who he had to match you with and how to play with it to make you fall. Your cheeks turned into a bright red. You scoffed in disdain. « Me ? Doing this for a man ? Don’t be silly. » you rolled your eyes and grabbed his arm, changing the subject to the paper you had to write for today. Your crush was ridiculously obvious. He wondered if he would act this way if only he was able to love. However, your budding feelings for Thomas would help to get his job done faster. It took more time when he had to do all the job, create the meeting, put the right mood to some situation in attempt to make both parties fall in love. Yes, it would be easy. You sighed, « And here we go, for two hours of boredom… ». You sat down and prepared your papers, hurrying Minho to do the same. Obediently, he did as told and started his own class: learning about you.

Days turned into weeks and he knew a lot about you by now. You frowned when you were highly focused on something, you hated romcom — at least it was what you said, except that Minho witnessed you tearing up in front of 13 going 30 —, you were the type of person to scream your lungs out to songs while driving, you chewed on your lips and then complained about it when they were getting chapped. To make it short, you were lively in the most beautiful ways and the love god didn’t seem to grow tired of it. « Pull yourself together » he thought, lightly splashing his face with water. He had to make things move on between you and Thomas. Your interest for him didn’t seem to fade, after all, you were meant to be. He looked at his reflection on the mirror and was surprised by his expression: he seemed annoyed. Straightening his back, he glanced one more time at his face, defying it, before exiting the bathroom.

« Took you long enough » you stated, looking at the brown haired boy. He shrugged « Sorry ? ». You gestured him to come sit next to you. Churros was purring on your legs as you scratched it behind its ears and Minho looked at the scene fondly. Taking place by your side, he joined you to pet the black cat. You discreetly looked at your friend. You had been knowing him since you were kids — magic made you think that — and never had you realized how handsome he was. In your eyes, he was just your annoying lost twin. Kind of. At least, you thought… Or tried to convince yourself. Also, Thomas was there and you liked him, right ? Minho raised his head and caught you staring at him. He tilted his head before asking you, « What’s troubling you ? ». You shook your head, scratching your cat under its chin. « Hmm nothing… » your voice was low and not convincing at all, your friend wouldn’t fall for your masquerade. He came closer to you and nudge your shoulder. « Come on Y/N, what’s on your mind ? ». Seeing his eyes, you couldn’t resist them and gave up. You felt a bit embarrassed but gathered your courage up. « Have you ever been in love ? » you asked, your hands stopped moving and Churros half opened its eyes, its green pupils looking deep inside your soul. A brief silence filled the room. Minho was staring at the ceiling before clearing his throat. « Well, I’ve never experienced it myself but I believe it’s a precious and incredible feeling… » your friend seemed a bit gloomy and you were almost disappointed by his answer. « Have you ? » he kept going, curious to know if you were going to talk about your crush with him. The god of love was expectant. « Yes… » « How does it feel ? I can only imagine. » Minho smiled but his eyes weren’t. « It feels warm and exciting but complicated at times too… » you stated. « I mean, what do you do when you start having feelings for someone unexpected ? » The brown haired boy hummed. « Like falling for someone you never thought you would ? » You nodded, « Exactly. It's like... you have this image in your head of who you're supposed to be attracted to, and then someone comes along and totally flips that upside down. » The deity chuckled. « Hmm. I see what you mean. » a tint of bitterness lacing his voice. « But isn't that part of the magic of love? Discovering new feelings and connections you never imagined ? ». Why were you so hesitant about your feelings ? Never in his career he had witnessed that. Lighting the spark of love could took a bit longer to build but his customers never openly expressed their confusion. Was he lacking on some point ? As earlier when he was in the bathroom, he felt annoyance rushing through his veins and a strange tickling at the bottom of his nape... Churros left your lap, feeling the agitation of yours and Minho’s hearts. « I suppose so. It's just… I know you’ve noticed, I've been crushing on Thomas for a while now, but lately, someone else came into the picture… » you were elusive on purpose. Minho got caught off guard on that one. What was going on ? Something was definitely wrong. Who were you talking about ? He would have to review every single people being close to you to find out if you decided not to speak. You bent towards him, your move making your fingers brush against his, sending electricity into your system. « It’s a secret. » you sticked your tongue out and stood up. Still on the floor, Minho looked at you in disbelief. « What ? You started this conversation and now you’ve decided to remain silent ? ». Towering him, you shrugged and turned on the music to distract him.

This was an emergency. He needed to talk to Felix, right now. On his way home, he grabbed his phone on his pocket and looked for his brother’s number. He tapped on his name and waited to hear the ringtone. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. « Your contact isn’t available at the moment… » Minho swore as he was welcomed by the robotic voice. « Please leave a message after the ri… ». He hung up and dialed the number again and again and again. Finally, no automatic message but a deep upset voice, which was pretty rare. « For love sake, Minho. Why are you calling me ? I was preparing my aim. You better have a good reason to bother me and make me miss my shot. » he groaned. « My human. Y/N. She’s hesitant. » He heard his brother sighing. « And ? It happens all the time. Give her one more week and she will be ready. Now, if you may exc… » Loosing his temper, Minho cut him off. « It’s not like usual. And, for your knowledge, my clients never hesitate on their feelings. » he cockily added. Felix laughed. « Ok. Then, describe me how is it different ? ». Minho could hear the noises of the city coming from the end of the line. « I don’t feel that energy coming from her, it’s like… glowing a different way. And I have that constant itch bothering me... » he whispered, confused by the events. « Have you ever heard of someone changing their fate ? » « Minho. It’s written in the stars, it’s impossible to undo it. » the angel stated firmly. « Are you sure ? Wasn’t there any case of someone rewriting them ? » His voice felt desperate and he was. He was hundred percent sure that something odd was happening. A loud silence echoed his question. « Do you want my honest opinion ? » « Please. » he begged. « I think you’re the one with an unsteady heart. You’ve been around Y/N for too long. You’ve never spent much time with one of your assigned mortal and your magic is weakening. » Felix answered. Offended, the god of love received those words like a slap in the face. However, it would explain his discomfort. « This is nonsense. I’m telli… » but he hadn’t time to finish his sentence. « One week and not a single day more. » The ringtone resonated, announcing the final sentence.

One week. He had to calculate all his next moves. If Felix was right, nobody knew what would happened if Minho was loosing his power. Yet, he wasn’t scared about it but was terrified at the idea of loosing you forever. Once his job done, it would be as if he had never existed. You would remember a presence but would not be able to put a name or a face on it. Usually, Minho considered his mission like a book. He had to get into it, enjoy it, untangle the plot and put it on a shelf once done. With you, he wanted the story to keep going. However, he was supposed to be a side character and not a main one. The love god felt stupid and bothered by that strange sensation squeezing his heart. What was it ? He could only identify anger and disappointment. His fists were clenched and he had to fight the urge to punch the nearest wall. This is when you decided to intervene. He felt his phone buzzing. The screen illuminated the room he was in.

y/n: want to grab a coffee before class tomorrow ?

minho: sure!

y/n: perfect! see u :)

He sighed. He had to find a solution by the next morning and make you and Thomas fall in love, for once and for all. That night, the brown haired boy barely slept.

You were waiting for your friend in front of the coffee shop. Minho appeared at the corner, disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. « Wow, you definitely need some coffee. » You teased him. He groaned and opened the door for you. « Barely slept. » he briefly explained. « Thanks, I had noticed. » you scoffed. Once your coffee taken, you strolled along the path toward university campus, backpacks slung over your shoulders. « So, any plans for the weekend ? » the love god asked, trying his best to look cheerful. You shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. « Not much, just the usual. Probably bury myself in textbooks and drown in a sea of caffeine. Exams are coming up. »

Minho rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow. « Come on, Y/N, you need to loosen up a bit. Life's not all about studying. Besides, I heard there's a party happening this Saturday. You have to come with me. » Your ears perked up at the mention of a party, your curiosity piqued. It has been a while since you wen to a party and going there with Minho sounded even greater. « A party, huh? Sounds intriguing. Who's throwing it ? ». The brown haired boy flashed you a mischievous smile. « Oh, you know, just some friends from the other campus. But here's the juicy part – I heard that Thomas will be there. »

At the mention of Thomas’ name, your heart sunk a little. Maybe you would finally be able to put a word on your feelings for him, know if it was a small crush or something more serious. Maybe you would understand why you felt jelly and happier than ever around Minho too…

« Thomas? » you echoed, « Are you sure? ». The love god nodded enthusiastically. Going to a party was a simple strategy but it often worked. "Positive! This could be your chance to make a move. » He winked. You rolled your eyes. « Shush. I’m not even sure if I want to be with him anymore. » you whined. « Then it’s the perfect occasion, right ? » He was right. « Alright, you've convinced me, » you finally replied, a determined glint in your eyes. « I'll go to the party with you. ». Minho seemed relieved by your answer and closed the gap between the both of you to quickly kiss your cheeks. That sudden move of affection startled you as you brought a hand to your face. « Good! I will see you later then. » he waved you goodbye and disappeared in the corridor. As he rushed to his class, mixed feelings and a strong sensation of warmth filled his system.

When he came back home on that day, the deity decided to face his own feelings. The kiss on your cheek ? It felt natural, yet really odd. Never he had done this with a mortal before but he wanted to try again. As he sat there, lost in the midst of his own thoughts, he couldn't shake the strange sensation that had been creeping up on him lately. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, gentle yet persistent, nudging him to pay attention to something he hadn't noticed — or even felt — before.

At first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a weakness, a fleeting moment of curiosity. But the more he tried to ignore it, the louder it became, until it was impossible to ignore any longer. It was a feeling, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, like sunbathing on fresh grass. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, couldn't find the words to describe it, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Suddenly it hit him, like a bolt of lightning. Could it be...? No, it couldn't. It was absurd, unthinkable, impossible. He was a god of love, he was here to help mortals not to fa… No, no, no. And yet, the more he tried to deny it, the more it seemed to make sense. He was definitely falling for you, for your laughter that echoed like music in his ears, for your smile that lit up even the darkest corners of his heart. It was a realization that sent his mind into a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with these newfound feelings ? What was going to happen to you, your fate, his powers ? He felt torn, caught between the familiarity of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Part of him wanted to hold onto what he knew, to the comfort of familiarity, while another part yearned to embrace this new, unknown territory with open arms. But one thing was clear amidst the chaos of his thoughts: he couldn't ignore this feeling any longer. It was a part of him now, a piece of the puzzle that had been missing all along or messing with the stars. And whether it led him down a path of heartache, he knew he had to face it head-on, for better or for worse. He was scared, obviously. However, he would enjoy his final days with you, shoot his arrow and disappear. He would get another mission and drown his feelings, trying to forget about you for the rest of his immortal life…

Days passed by, slipping from his hands, and weekend was already there. He dressed himself up and headed to the party. As he was getting closer of his friend’s house, he felt his heart sinking. When he entered the place, the thumping bass reverberated through the crowded living room as Minho scanned the sea of faces, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of excitement and gloom. He had promised himself that tonight would be the night he finally bonded you and Thomas for eternity, but now that the moment was upon him, doubt gnawed at his resolve like a persistent itch.

Spotting you across the room, your radiant smile lighting up the dimly lit space, Minho's breath caught in his throat. You looked absolutely stunning, your eyes sparkling with laughter — you seemed a bit tipsy too — as you mingled effortlessly with the other partygoers.

Determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers, Minho made his way through the crowd, weaving between bodies. But just as he reached out to tap your shoulder, a voice cut through the din like a knife slicing through butter.

« Hey, Minho! What are you doing over here all by yourself ? »

Minho turned to find Felix grinning at him, a beer in hand and mischief dancing in his eyes. « Felix… What are you doing here ? »

Felix arched an eyebrow, his grin widening into a knowing smirk, except that his eyes felt low-key frightening. Minho had never seen that look on his face before. « Let me guess – you're trying to find Y/N, aren't you ? I hope it’s to do your job. Tomorrow is your last chance if you can’t do it tonight, which would honestly be a shame.»

Minho felt the heat rise to his cheeks, cursing himself for being so transparent. « Yeah, actually. I was hoping to talk to her. »

Felix chuckled, clapping Minho on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. « Talk to her about what exactly ? » he aggressively whispered. « You were right, Minho. The ancient gods noticed your weird behavior and they’re now asking for results. That’s why they sent me here tonight. Also, I hate to break it to you, but it looks like she's already found her right match."

Minho's heart sank like a stone as he followed Felix's gaze across the room, where you were engaged in animated conversation with none other than Thomas. His stomach churned with jealousy and disappointment as he watched you laugh and joke together, your easy proximity like a dagger to his heart.

Desperate to salvage the situation before it spiraled out of control, Minho racked his brain for a way to interrupt. But before he could formulate a plan, fate intervened in the cruelest of ways, as Thomas locked eyes with yours and began to make his way toward you with the inevitability of two stars on a collision course.

With a unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, Minho realized that his efforts to keep you for himself would be in vain. And as he watched you both draw closer, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been fighting a losing battle all along.

But even as the bitter sting of defeat washed over him like a wave crashing against the shore, Minho knew that he couldn't give up hope just yet. For in matters of the heart, anything was possible – even miracles. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he nearly sprinted in your direction, pushing away the guests and ignoring his brother’s screams.

With newfound determination burning bright within him, Minho felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that love was worth fighting for – even if it meant risking everything he held dear: his powers, his own life. Because what would happen if things weren’t turning the way they should ? He was going against destiny and it had messed up yours too. And, if he lost his powers, you would probably forgot about him since your friendship had, at first, been built on the illusions he had created.

And as the party raged on around him, Minho took a deep breath and stepped boldly between the two of you, stopping Thomas from achieving his move whether it was a hug or a kiss. The man seemed surprised and offended. « Yo… Do we know each other ? » he asked. « We don’t, but I'm here with her. » Minho held your hand in his, the warmth of his skin against your sending electricity into your veins. You looked at them, glaring at each other as a third guy — blond hair and an angelic face — approached you. Who was he and why it looked like he wanted to punch Minho in the face ? Focusing back on the brown haired boy and Thomas, you said « Minho, it’s fine we were just talking. » He turned his head, frowning, his grip on your hand strengthening. Yet, behind that visible annoyance, you could notice despair and softness in his eyes. « Well, I need to talk to you too. » Before you or Thomas could add a word, he made you follow him across the room. The blond guy was still following you but was struggling to slide between the students. You went upstairs, Minho was trying to find a place where people weren’t making out or throwing up. Eventually, a couple left one of the room, giving you the opportunity to get some privacy.

The love god closed the door behind you, letting your hand go. « I don’t have much time and I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen after but… I have to try. »

« What are you talking about ? » you chuckled nervously, your mouth getting dry. « Remember when I told you I’ve never loved anyone before ? » he asked. You nodded, anticipating. He walked closer to you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture, looking at your face features as if trying to engrave them in his mind. « It took me long enough to admit it but I did… No, I do love someone. » « Oh… » you sounded disappointed, your heart starting to be torn into pieces until you felt your friend’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face, your eyes widened as his were closing, a single tear threatening to fall anytime. Almost instantly, you drowned onto his touch, your lips moving in perfect sync as your fists were gripping his shirt. Your heart was beating so loudly that it echoed in your eardrum and you felt butterflies getting restless in the pit of your stomach.

A deep muffled voice could be heard from behind the walls as Minho delicately stepped away from you. As soon as his lips detached from yours, you started to miss them like you would miss oxygen to breathe. « Minho you know about Tho… » « Don’t worry » a tear was rolling down his cheek and he quickly whipped it. « I know you like him… But, I had to try… ». However, you didn’t feel that way about your old crush. You had a little something for him, yes, but the feeling you had for Minho was stronger than anything you had felt before. You loved him. « Minho I lo… » you couldn’t confess fully when the same innocent looking guy you had seen earlier crashed into the room.

« Minho. I hope you didn’t do anything stupid or… » however his face started to break down. Scared, you looked at Minho who was getting paler second after second. You rushed to support him as his knees felt weaker. He could feel it, his magic leaving his body. He felt so sleepy, the itch getting intense and your and Felix’s voices sounded faint. Felix cursed as he was walking toward you. « Don’t come closer ! » you warned him, not forgetting the way he looked at him before. Not listening to you, he put one of Minho’s arm around his shoulder and helped him laying down. « Wh-what are you doing ? We need to call an ambulance. » you stuttered. Felix bitterly laughed « Your mortals shit wouldn’t help him, now move aside. ».

Everything was becoming blurry and dark for the brown haired boy. Laid down, he could see Felix’s lips moving hastily, trying to cast a spell, while your hands were holding his left one tightly. « Mor… What ? ». The blond hair guy didn’t answer, his hands moving above Minho. You couldn’t see anything but the deity did. Slowly, a golden arrow was appearing on his brother’s hands, shining brightly.

You were done with this strange guy. With trembling hands, you took your phone and dialed the emergency number. Immediately, someone answered you and asked for the reason of your call.

« My friend is… He is really pale and… he doesn’t speak anymore. I… Yes, he’s breathing. No… »

Conversation kept going as you described his state, distracted and barely paying attention to Felix who was finally done casting his spell. The arrow weighted heavily on his hands, more than usual. He looked at his brother with uncertainty. The ancient gods gave him the mission to do the necessary to help Minho, no matter what, even if it had to cost him his life. His throat was burning and his hands were holding the arrow so firmly that his knuckles were turning white. With a gain of lucidity, Minho looked at Felix. Who would have thought that his biggest ally would turn out to be his greatest enemy, love itself. Minho knew what would happen if the angel was planting the arrow on his chest. He would die. It was created for mortals only and unique for each of them. Defying destiny was dangerous. Without his power he wouldn’t be able to live, he was doomed by a love curse.

« Do it. » he whispered, his words so faint he could barely hear them himself.

Felix looked at him, a frown on his face and teary eyes. The brown haired boy repeated his demand, more loudly this time. His brother closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding the arrow still, right above Minho’s heart. « Remember that you did this to yourself. » Felix’s deep voice broke. « I should have noticed your behavior… I’m sorry, brother. ».

Distracted by the sudden agitation at the corner of your eyes. You noticed that the blond hair guy was holding both his hands above your friend. Confused, you looked at them, not answering on the phone anymore. Suddenly, Felix slammed his fists on his brother’s chest.

The last things Minho could remember was your scream, you pushing Felix as his tears were falling on Minho’s face like a warm summer rain, his energy swirling in a thundery way around him, and the blinding light of the arrow painfully entering his rib cage. He wasn’t regretting his decision. He hoped his brother wouldn’t blame himself. As he said, Minho had did this to himself and, for as long as he could remember, he had never felt so alive. He was happy that he had been able to meet you, love you, share his feelings with you. It costed him his life, yet, he knew that it wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t part of it. Fortunately, you would forget everything about this thanks to Felix. It would be like a blurry nightmare, nothing more, even if he secretly hoped a part of you would never forget about him. With some sort of contentment, he drowned into darkness.

Darkness. Sounds scary at first but felt familiar to Minho. After all, he had been wandering in their meanders for a long time before becoming a god of love. It felt cosy, like a nest. He didn’t have to think about anything, just let himself sail around. However, that peace wouldn’t last eternally. Slowly, a reddish light appeared, troubling his comatose state, pulling him out of this world.

Bip. Bip. Bip. His eyelids were trembling as he tried to come to his senses. Opening his eyes, he noticed where the sound was coming from. A cardiac monitor was near, perfusions were attached to his wrist. Was he at the hospital ? How was it possible ? And what was that muffled noise ? Scanning his surrounding, he saw him. Felix. His face lighting up as his brother was awaking. He could tell that he was definitely fighting the urge to hold him, scared to hurt him.

« Minho! I… I can’t believe you did it… » he sputtered.

The brown haired boy was confused. « W-why am I here ? » he asked with a hoarse voice. Surprised by it, he brought his hand to his throat. Felix’s face lost his brightness as he started to explain what happened. When the ancient gods sent his brother to bring him back to reason, they also knew that, once every thousand years, a love god could fall for someone. In the manuscripts, few were the ones who survived, most of them loosing their powers before they could do anything except one case. The love god realizing the situation they were in, they decided to shoot the arrow toward themselves, the weapon absorbing all the power but not their soul.

« This is why they told me to do this. They didn’t explain why until I came back… The arrow saved you however… » Felix seemed to hesitate.

« What ? » Minho breathed out.

« You’re a mortal now. »

The blond haired man seemed sorry, it was some sort of punishment for going against fate. Minho wasn’t. He had a second chance to meet you.

« Y/N. How is she ? Does she and Thomas…» he expectantly asked, hope lacing his voice as he tried to sit up properly, in vain, his muscles still weak. Felix softly smiled at his brother. « She’s doing great. And, no, they’re not bonded… ». A sigh of relief escaped Minho’s mouth. « She doesn’t remember me, right ? » he asked, sappy. The angel shook his head. Of course. He had erased her memories with the brown haired boy. Seeing the sadness creeping up Minho’s face, Felix started to rummage into the bag he had across his chest. Finding what he was looking for, he handed them to Minho.

« Here. Welcome to your new life. »

Papers. Lee Minho. Twenty five years old. Born in South Korea. He looked at the angel, baffled. Was it real ?

« Oh! And you’re starting your final year of university this autumn. You better be ready. » Felix added.

« Excuse me ? » Minho groaned.

Several months later.

The crisp morning air was filled with the buzz of anticipation as students hurriedly made their way to their respective classrooms. You rushed through the throng of students, not wanting to be late for your first day. You glanced at your schedule, confirming the room number for your first class of the semester.

As you approached the corridor where your class was to be held, you noticed a figure leaning casually against the wall, engrossed in a book. His rugged charm caught your eye, and you couldn't help but steal a few glances as you neared him. His deep concentration on the book intrigued you. You have never seen him taking this class before. Was he a new student ?

With a hesitant smile, you cleared your throat softly, catching the attention of the young man. He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hi, sorry to bother you," you began, your voice soft and friendly. « Do you know if this is where the Literature class is supposed to meet? »

The young man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he closed his book, revealing a cover adorned with intricate designs in a language you didn’t know. "Yes, it is. I'm actually headed there myself," he replied, his voice warm and inviting.

Relief washed over you as you returned his smile. "Great, thank you. I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced yourself, extending your hand.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Minho," he replied, accepting your handshake with a gentle grip.

Your brief introduction was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening nearby, signaling the start of the class. You looked at your watch, realizing you were running out of time.

"Well, it looks like we better head in," you said with a nod towards the open door.

Minho agreed, falling into step beside you as you made your way into the classroom together. As you found seats near each other, you couldn't shake the feeling of serendipity that hung in the air. You didn’t know him, yet, you felt a deep connection and a sensation of deja-vu.

As the professor began the lesson, you stole another glance at Minho, captivated by his features and feeling grateful for the unexpected connection fate had brought you that morning.

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inkspiredwriting · 5 months ago

Text

Meet the In-Laws

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The time had come, and as much as Five tried to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Y/N, sensing his unease, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"They're going to love you," she said with a warm smile. "Just be yourself."

"Right," Five muttered, straightening his tie. "Be myself."

They arrived at Y/N's family home, a charming house with a perfectly manicured lawn and a welcoming front porch. The door opened before they could even ring the bell, and Y/N's mother, Susan, greeted them with open arms.

"Y/N! It's so good to see you!" Susan exclaimed, hugging her daughter tightly. She then turned to Five, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And you must be Five. We've heard so much about you."

Five extended his hand, giving her a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson."

"Oh, call me Susan," she said, waving off the formality. "Come in, come in!"

They stepped inside, and Five was immediately introduced to the rest of the family: Y/N's father, Robert, her younger brother, Mark, and her older sister, Emily. The room was filled with warmth and the smell of a home-cooked meal.

"So, Five," Robert began as they settled into the living room. "Y/N tells us you have quite an interesting background."

Five glanced at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging nod. "You could say that," he replied, trying to keep his explanation simple. "I've had some...unique experiences."

"Unique? That's an understatement," Y/N interjected with a laugh. "Five here has traveled through time and saved the world more times than I can count."

The family chuckled, but Five noticed the curious glances being exchanged. He decided to steer the conversation to safer ground. "So, what do you do, Mr. Thompson?"

Robert launched into a story about his career, and the conversation flowed more easily. Five found himself relaxing a bit, the initial tension easing as he got to know Y/N's family.

Dinner was an elaborate affair, with Susan going all out to impress their guest. The table was laden with delicious dishes, and Five couldn't help but appreciate the effort. They all gathered around, and as the meal progressed, the questions continued.

"So, Five," Emily said, leaning forward with a grin. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"

Five paused, thinking of the myriad of wild experiences he'd had. "Well, there was that time I fought a squad of armed agents while trying to stop an apocalypse," he said casually, causing the family to erupt in laughter.

As the evening went on, Five found himself genuinely enjoying the company of Y/N's family. They were warm, welcoming, and had a great sense of humor. He could see where Y/N got her kindness and strength from.

After dinner, as they sat around the living room with coffee and dessert, Susan leaned over to Five. "You know, we've always worried about Y/N finding someone who could keep up with her. But I think you've proven you're more than up to the task."

Five smiled, feeling a swell of gratitude. "I'm very lucky to have her."

Y/N beamed at him, squeezing his hand. "And I'm lucky to have you."

Just then, Mark, who had been mostly quiet throughout the evening, spoke up. "So, Five, do you think you could teach me some of those time-traveling tricks?"

Five laughed, shaking his head. "It's a bit more complicated than it sounds, but maybe I could show you a thing or two."

The night drew to a close, and as they prepared to leave, Susan hugged Five warmly. "You're part of the family now, Five. Don't be a stranger."

"Thank you, Susan," Five said sincerely. "I'll definitely be back."

As they walked back to the car, Y/N looked up at Five, her eyes shining. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Five wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "No, it wasn't. Your family is wonderful."

Y/N smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you think so. They really do like you."

Five kissed the top of her head, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "And I really like them. But most of all, I love you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. "I love you too, Five."

As they drove away, Five couldn't help but feel that he had gained more than just a family that night. He had found a home, a place where he truly belonged, with the woman he loved by his side.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot

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mslovepoem · 1 year ago

Text

Baby Boys Karma and Gakushuu

#assassination classroom #akabane karma #asano gakushuu #karushuu #but in family way #still #sincerely the stranger you call brother #fanfiction #fanfic #Baby Karma #Baby Gakushuu #i cant anatomy amd ist cannot with me #stsycb

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throneofsmut · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I request a Cassian x shy reader fic where they’re going back and forth sharing their links with one another?

You Only Have To Ask

Cassian x Reader || WC: 2.1k || Warnings: sparring and light smut.

****

Cassian and you were currently laying on the floor of the training rings on the House of Winds rooftop—chests heaving after sparring for hours—Cassian wearing a lopsided grin.

“Cauldron boil me, I never should’ve agreed to do this,” you groaned in between pants.

The General of the Night Court huffed a laugh before he turned his head to look at you. Hands behind your head, chest heaving, legs bent, hair messy and a sheen of sweat making you almost glow in the light of setting sun. You were beautiful.

Cassian and you had met almost six months ago at Rita’s after Feyre had finally convinced you to go out with the Inner Circle.

Your older brother and his mate owned the bookstore that was part cafe and part flower shop, right next to her art studio. And they had recently welcomed a baby, their first, and asked if you could run the bookstore for a while.

Most of their customers knew who you were, but more than a few didn’t. And to your mortification, you would have to explain to them who you were and why you were running the place for the time being.

You were still wringing your hands, face still embarrassingly red, after explaining to a rude customer that you weren't sure when your brother would return, when Feyre came in asking about them.

“Hello,” she looked around the shop, no doubt looking for your brother or his mate, “Is Flynn not in today? I haven’t seen him in a couple of days or Sera.”

You went to answer and to your chargin, you stuttered. Violently, if that was even a way to describe it, but to be completely honest it was the only way to describe it. Never in your life have you stuttered so badly.

In your defense, a new book was released so there was an influx of customers. Regulars and new, and you have always been shy towards everyone—except your brother and his mate—especially strangers.

Feyre gave you a patient look, letting out a shaky breath you opened your mouth to tell her about your brother and his mate, when he walked in. “Hey, bub, how’s business?” His voice booming through the small shop.

You visibly sagged in relief, “Thank the Mother’s tits.”

Flynn only laughed, “Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad, bub,” he teased.

The shop was closing in thirty minutes, so you told him he could close since you’d embarrassed yourself enough for him today. He gave you an apologetic smile and chuckled, “Fair enough. We appreciate you,” he said sincerely.

You gave him a small smile and nodded your head, giving Feyre the same smile and a little wave goodbye and made your way towards the door. You were almost free, when Feyre, started calling out for you. “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!”

Turning around, eyes wide. “Wait, I need to ask you something!”

“Uhm, all right?”

“Flynn, told me that your grandfather was Illyrian and that he made sure to train your mother to fight and to train you both too. But, he also said that he taught you different fighting styles.”

You shifted from one foot to the other, “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could come and train with us at the House of Wind. I would love to see—“

You rubbed the back of your neck, nervously. “Us?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. It would be Rhys, Cass, Az, Mor and me.” She explained, she looked so excited.

She wanted you to train with the Inner Circle. You. “Uhm, yeah. Sure, I guess.”

She pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “Thank the cauldron!” When she realized what she was doing she pulled away, “Sorry. Sorry. We’re all going out to Rita’s tonight, meet us there so you can get to know everyone.”

You nodded your head hesitantly, but agreed nonetheless.

As soon as you walked into Rita’s Feyre rushed to greet you and everyone was so welcoming and nice. And you're pretty sure Flynn had told Feyre about how shy you were and she had probably told the rest of the Inner Circle too. Not that you minded because it’s just who you are, you were always anxious around new people and in new places and got easily flustered or overwhelmed.

Yet, fighting had come naturally to you. Flynn always said he could never understand that part of you, how you were so introverted, but fought in the fighting pits in the Illyrian Camps.

You don’t know how you did it either, you just did.

So when Rhys flew you up to the House of Wind the next day and you sparred with everyone they were all impressed to say the least. You had all agreed that you would spar with everyone until one of you got the other to tap. You got Feyre to tap in 30 seconds, Mor in two minutes, Rhys in seven, Az in ten and Cassian in twelve.

You had gotten the Lord of Bloodshed on the ground and you wrestled a bit before he tapped. Standing up first and when you had looked down at him, offering him your hand to help him up, the bond snapped into place.

For the both of you.

And you turned the same shade of red as the siphons atop his hands when he just stared at you. After it first happened you were in shock and were thinking about rejecting it, because you were scared to say the least, but he gave you space to think.

Flynn told you that you were blessed by the Mother for having found your mate and he was right, but you were just so hesitant. You didn’t even know the male and he was your mate. Unbeknownst to you he had immediately felt your feelings flow through the mating bond and swore to himself to patiently court you.

He would take things slow and at your own pace.

Which was how you’d gotten into sparring dates. You’d both felt more comfortable in the fighting ring so you made a bargain. You’d spar on the roof of the House of Wind while asking each other simple questions to get to know each other and then you’d talk about more intimate things after.

Your mate had gone quiet, turning to face him, you saw he was staring at you unabashedly and you blushed. It didn’t matter that it had been six months, he always made you blush. Whether he simply looked at you, said something or you just thought of him. You always did.

He always said that you looked pretty whenever you blushed because of him. That he loved that he could always make you flustered. And loved when you tore your gaze away because then he had an excuse to touch you, so he could grip your chin and make you meet his eyes.

Which is what was happening now.

He chuckled before his rough calloused hand was cupping the side of your face, turning you to face him, “You can’t hide from me, sweetheart,” he teased. Your hands clenched around nothing as you felt butterflies in your belly and closed your eyes. Making your mate howl with laughter at your antics. “So you can kick my ass, but can’t look at me.” He said between laughs.

Your voice came out meeker than you wanted, “Yup.” A small smile on your lips as the sound of his mirthful laughter filled you ears again.

You heard rustling and movement like he was standing up, but then he was kissing you. Your lips slightly parting with a soft moan as they met, his tongue swept over your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Resting your hands on his bare tattooed chest, his hands slid down, roving over your body, squeezing your tits firmly.

Moaning into his mouth as he did so and he squeezed harder before wrapping his hand around your throat.

Hesitantly palming him through the pants of his fighting leathers, making a growl fall from his lips. The sound had you squeezing your thighs together for some type of friction.

Palming him again, this time more confidently, but he pulled back. Giving you a panty dropping grin as he shook his head. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Cassian hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hands held you up by your ass. Walking you back into the House of Wind and into his room.

Once you got to his room he sat on his huge bed—big enough to accommodate his large wings and then some—and kept you firmly seated on his lap. Your eyes scanning his face and without realizing it you were smiling at him.

He grinned back, “What?”

“Nothing,” you murmured quietly.

“Tell me.”

You sighed softly, “I—I really want to be with you but,” you looked down at your hands while you picked at your fingers. It was something you did whenever you were nervous or anxious.

Cassian looked down and saw that your left thumb was going to be picked raw soon and grabbed your hands, stopping you. He gave them a reassuring squeeze before bringing them up to his kiss-swollen lips and kissed them.

Gold hazel eyes meet yours with a familiar warmth as he sent love down the bond, calming you.

“But. . . what?” He questioned.

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I don’t know what you like or want and I don’t—I don’t. . . ugh I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I like? What I want, sweetheart?”

I didn’t say anything, only nodding my head for him to continue.

“All right. I’ll tell you what I like and want,” he brushed your hair back, out of your face, “If you tell me what you like and what you want." Your face felt like it was on fire, breath hitching and Cassian wore a smug smirk on his face at seeing the effect his words had on you.

You swallowed thickly, settling onto his lap to be more comfortable, “You first.”

His eyes darkened. “I like you, I want you. But what I really want is you on your knees, looking up at me with your big doe eyes as I fuck your mouth,” he swiped his thumb over your lips. “Until you’re crying and drooling because of me, is that all right with you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat quickened, “Yes.”

“Good girl. Now tell your mate what you want,” he ordered.

“I want you to be a “good boy” and let me ride you until you’re begging me to let you cum inside me,” You said quietly, looking at the swirls tattooed onto his chest.

He tilted your chin up and tutted, “Speak up, sweetheart.”

Your eyes met his. “I want you to be a “good boy” and let me ride you until you’re begging me to let you cum inside me,” you said again louder this time, keeping your eyes locked on his.

His pupils dilated and you felt him harden beneath you at your words and thoughtlessly rubbed your clothed cunt on him. “I’ll do whatever you want, you only have to ask,” he promised. His voice rough with need.

“Promise?” You breathed.

“Promise. . . I’ll do whatever you want." He swore.

You leaned forward to kiss him, silently letting him know you would do whatever he wanted too. Grinding down harder onto him as his hands gripped your ass and then he was pulling your shirt over your head along with your bra. Then he was swirling his tongue around your hardened nipple making you let out a sharp exhale before sucking on them harshly.

You let out a loud hiss when he nipped at them roughly, back arching, “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you breathed. “I love it when you’re rough, because even when you are rough there’s a gentleness to it. I don’t know how to explain, but it’s perfect. I just want you to always be touching me.”

He kissed you again while his large calloused hands gripped your hips. Moving you at the pace he wanted, making us both moan at the feeling. “I want you on all fours. So I can pull your hair and slap your ass raw. I want to see my handprint in the same color of red you are when I make you blush.” You let out a loud moan at his words, clenching around nothing.

You bit your bottom lip so hard, that you tasted blood on your tongue, letting out a shaky breath, “I want you to call me your “perfect your little slut” while you spit in my mouth and fuck me until I can’t think. And when we’re done I want to be covered in you.”

Cassian threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut as he groans, “Gods, you’re gonna be the death of me.” A wet spot forming on his fighting leathers from our arousal.

“At least you’ll die a happy male.”

#acotar fanfiction #cassian acotar #cassian fanfic #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n

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bumblesimagines · 5 months ago

Text

Under The Moonlight

Part 16

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Seven years have passed since (Y/N) and the crew arrived to Constantinople. They've settled in since then, but life has not been easy for them.

CW/TW: Violence, war, religion bashing, vikings being vikings, period era situationships lmao, angst?, hurt emotionally and physically but barely any comfort, red flags? dont know her, (y/n) im begging you there's better fish in the sea

If you're new here and wondering where this came from, you can check out part one here and the masterlist here!

~~~

Seven years had passed since Emperor Romanos offered his sincere gratitude for ensuring the safe passage of his new wife, Eleana who they now were to call Empress Zoe. His gratitude reared its head through riches, rewards, and a place amongst his people, as well as a place amongst his army of men trained to kill and conquer the land of the empire's enemies. Constantinople was home now, even if temporarily.

They'd all settled in, although it'd taken time to grow accustomed to the vastly different culture and language. It'd been a difficult feat for (Y/N), his longing for his real home never dissipating amidst the heat and flourishing city. He missed his settlement in Greenland, his old friends, dearly missed his beloved mother who'd no doubt presumed him dead when he and his siblings hadn't returned home from their voyage. He longed for the cold and snow, the sound of the wind howling at night.

Leif and Harald, ever the adaptable ones, slotted in perfectly with their surroundings.

Harald climbed the ranks with ease, finding himself a stranger no more to Emperor Romanos as his personal bodyguard and newfound general of his own army: the Varangians, an army full of Vikings and mercenaries in need of a home and money. It'd been expected from a Viking prince to slither his way up and coil around such an important role. He ensured the crew joined his army, and took part in the fighting and rewards. But it was never enough for Harald, no matter how many riches he acquired through the years. Nothing was ever enough for him.

Leif took to Mariam's old home and called it his own, his newfound thirst for knowledge only growing after he read through all her books and eventually began seeking it out in places called 'libraries'; rooms of knowledge, he explained. Each time they traveled to fight another war for Emperor Romanos, he sought out the writings and maps of those places, learning new information from ancient and modern times. The sciences of the world around them enthralled him, captivated him into an obsession. (Y/N) preferred it, though. He preferred his brother's eagerness over watching Leif lose himself in grief again.

As much as (Y/N) found himself feeling out of place, fighting for the Byzantine Empire and calling Constantinople had given him much to do; and provided him with chances to see places he never would've dreamt of seeing. Such as the place they'd traveled to now, to defeat the Saracens at the urging of General Maniakes in Sicily. They'd been fighting for six months in what felt like an endless siege, and Emperor Romanos had begun growing antsy.

(Y/N) squinted through the darkness as he walked through the tunnels they'd been digging for the past few weeks, a lantern tightly gripped in one hand and held before him. His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness around him, allowing him to better see the crevices in the dirt walls around him. Short wooden beams and planks held the dirt in place, preventing it from crumpling and trapping those within. All a part of Leif's plan, as always.

"How are we doing, Kaysan?" (Y/N) called out once the man came into view, flashing him a smile and being rewarded with a large one in return. Kaysan chuckled and wiped his hands along his pants, the subtle stink of sulfur lingering in the air around them. Foul-smelling enough to bring tears to one's eyes, but Leif insisted it was needed for his plan to work.

"Your brother is working on the last of the sulfur we need. He says once it is ready, we can set the plan in motion." Kaysan answered, taking a step back to admire the combined work of the last couple weeks. Bundles of sulfur had been pushed into holes expanding across the wall of dirt, ready to be lit by a flame that'd bring down the tunnel and subsequently the wall of the fortress just mere feet above them. "I must admit I had little faith in his plan at first. But seeing what this powder can do when a flame is close to it..." Kaysan shook his head lightly, a twinkle of admiration in his dark eyes.

"It is hard to match up to such a creative thinker as Leif." (Y/N) chuckled, his steps slow as he walked along the wall and took in the wall before him. He'd always known his brother had been destined for great things, whether on land or sea. Leif had inherited the best parts of his parents. No longer the savage son of Erik the Red. No, that title had fallen on (Y/N)'s shoulders, and he accepted it.

"Come now," Kaysan gave his shoulder a small playful push. "You hardly need to match up to him, (Y/N). You're a smart man, and a loyal one at that; and, from what I've heard, you're quite charismatic when you wish to be."

"Have you been gossiping with the others, Kay?" (Y/N) questioned with a teasing grin, casting a glance at the man over his shoulder. It hardly counted as gossip, he supposed. Things with Harald never lasted long, whether he pulled away first or Harald did, but they always returned to each other in a desperate clash. It was vexing and tiresome, and he'd made up his mind a long time ago to put his foot down when it came to the charming prince.

Kaysan gave a light shrug. "It surprised us, is all."

The thumping of footsteps, soft panting, and clinking of lanterns swaying filled the tunnel, and (Y/N) had heard the panting noise enough times to recognize who it belonged to. He made brief eye contact with Kaysan and turned, raising his lantern high and smiling at the sight of his brother, although it faltered slightly when Harald appeared behind him.

"Keeping an eye on things?" Leif asked, his hand rubbing affectionately into (Y/N)'s shoulder when he passed him by. The two Vikings carried sacks slung over their shoulder, no doubt the last of the sulfur they needed to ensure the wall would completely collapse and allow them within. (Y/N) gave a silent nod, feeling Harald's eyes burning into the side of his skull.

"Future King of Norway," Kaysan greeted teasingly, patting Harald's arm and taking the sack from Harald so he could insert the last of it into the dirt walls around them. Harald chuckled breathlessly in return, tearing his eyes away from (Y/N) to study the dirt room. (Y/N) allowed himself to watch him, taking in the grime and blood covering his exposed biceps and face. He'd ridden off to battle once more, no doubt a failure as all the battles before.

"As soon as we take this castle," Harald murmured, his hands coming to rest at his hips. (Y/N) swallowed, his gaze sliding away from the beautiful prince as bitterness settled in his stomach. Despite the years that'd passed, Harald's mind never changed on what he truly desired above all else: the throne of Norway, one occupied by the son of a man Harald once considered a close friend.

"Is there really as much treasure inside as you say?" Kaysan asked, voice strained as he worked to shove the rolls of sulfur into the wall with Leif's help.

"Enough to fund all our dreams," Harald replied.

(Y/N) hooked his lantern on one of the wooden posts and crouched down beside him, rolling up the dark blue sleeves of his tunic and revealing the ink along his right arm. The creature his mother would tell tales of back in his youth; a sea monster that resembled an octopus but grew to be as large as a warship named Kraken.

The head and body of the began around his bicep while the tentacles expanded and wrapped around his forearm, stopping around his wrist. He understood why so many others covered themselves with ink, whether writings or designs. The Kraken reminded him of his mother, of all the times he spent on a boat watching his brother and father hunt for narwhals and other sea beasts.

Dipping his hand into the sack, he wrapped his fingers around one of the rolls and carefully lifted it before he pushed it into one of the holes in the wall. He rolled it side to side, scrapping and mushing dirt until the roll was securely in place. He mimicked the movements with a few more rolls, absentmindedly listening to the three men speak about the plan until he finished, his fingertips lightly dusted in the vibrant yellow powder. (Y/N) stood back up and turned, nearly barreling into Harald's chest plate.

"Can we speak?" Harald asked softly, and (Y/N) felt his skin burn at the knowing glances cast in their direction from Kaysan and Leif.

"We have little to speak about, Harald." (Y/N) told him, scooping his lantern back into his hand and making his way through the tunnel. Harald followed him because the man never took an answer he didn't want, and (Y/N) largely ignored him until they reached the entrance of the tunnel and stepped out into the blinding light of the late evening.

"There's much to speak about, actually. Starting with the most important thing-"

"The throne?" (Y/N)'s features scrunched up, his spotty vision slowly adjusting to the daylight around them. He blinked a few times and his vision finally focused on the bustling camp around them. His gaze darted back to Harald's face, catching the grimace that passed over his features at his words before the general cleared his throat.

"No, I do not... I don't wish to speak of the throne. I know how you feel about it. You know how I feel about it." Harald frowned, his lips nearly covered by his thick beard. He took the lanterns from his hands and hung them up by the entrance, a heavy sigh escaping him. "You've done well in Constantinople for many years. I've seen you flourish. You're not as guarded as you once were. If you can do well in a court like the Emperor's, you'd do even better in a Viking court amongst your own people."

"Except it'd be your court with Christian jarls and Vikings who believe me worshipping a god that isn't theirs is a crime punishable by death. Your religion loves violently, Harald, as do its supporters. They'd condemn you for everything you've done with me." (Y/N) scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief and walking forward deeper into camp toward his tent. They'd had the conversation many times over the last few years, a neverending dance of push and pull trying to tire each other out into admitting defeat. But they were Vikings, and Vikings never gave up easily.

(Y/N) stepped through the flaps of his tent and released a heavy sigh, his feet guiding him to the basin sat on the table filled with warm water. He dipped his hands inside, cleaning the dirt and sulfur off his fingers until the water turned murky. The tent flaps rustled with the arrival of someone else stepping into his tent and he peeked over his shoulders, half-expecting to see Harald but only seeing Dorn. She smiled at him, her hands and sleeves of her blue tunic steeped in dark red. He crinkled his nose.

"Trust me," She sighed. "I know how it smells."

"Come wash your hands, then." (Y/N) smiled, picking up a rag and drying his hands with it as she stepped up and eagerly rinsed her hands clean of pig's blood. Her eyes flickered up toward him a few times, her lips twisting and teeth digging lightly into them. He tilted his head at her and took a seat at the table, reaching out to pluck a grape from the bowl in the center. "What is it, Dorn?"

"Batu and I were speaking the other day, and the topic of you and Harald came up." She began softly, thumb roughly rubbing into the skin of her palm until the streak of blood disappeared. Dorn raised her drenched hands toward her face, wiping off the grime and splatters of blood that'd collected on her skin. "I always wondered what went wrong between you both. When we meet... it seemed as if you two had much unspoken business. Then, during our trip to Constantinople, it all became clear. You were lovers, or former lovers, it was hard to tell at times but you... loved each other. We thought you had reconciled from whatever had occurred and yet..."

"I've come to learn that love is complicated, and at most times it's the worst thing that can occur. Harald is... a lot of things, too many things, truly. If you are worried that the same will happen between you and Batu, I can certainly assure you that it will not. Batu loves you, Dorn. I can see that you love him. You're happy together, content. Neither of you desires more than what you have now. Harald does. He hungers for far too many things, and it will eventually be his ruin. I do not wish to be dragged along with him."

"But you love each other?" Dorn questioned, wiping away droplets of water from her chin and drying her hands on her pants. (Y/N) plopped the grape into his mouth and bit into it, feeling the juices explode along his tongue as he mulled over her question. He loved Harald, he knew that well, but part of him resented him too. Most days, Harald made him wonder if he loved him, or merely lusted after him.

"It's complicated." He answered quietly, and Dorn winced, giving a meek nod and turning on her heel to leave the tent. He watched her depart, a mixture of emotions coiling around his heart and constricting it. (Y/N) released a shaky inhale and ran his hand over his face, forcing away the thoughts of Harald and their odd relationship to focus on preparing himself for a good night's rest and a long morning.

Seven years had passed, but it barely changed either of them.

The following morning, (Y/N) and the others awoke and began preparing for the day ahead before the sun had even risen over the horizon. They changed into clothes more worthy of battle, putting on their armor and chain mail before collecting their weapons. (Y/N) secured his dagger to his hip and retrieved a battle axe, a hefty yet powerful thing that'd do more swift damage than his dagger. By the time the sun rose, the Varangian army had gathered around awaiting instructions.

"Ready?" Leif asked softly, instinctively reaching out to check the straps of (Y/N)'s armor. The younger man smiled and allowed him to do so without fuss, a soft chuckle leaving him when Leif gave an approving nod, his fingers running over the chain mail before his arms dropped back to his sides.

"As always." (Y/N) sighed, glancing at Harald when the prince approached them. The deep furrow in his brows softened when they locked eyes, the determination in his gaze disappearing into a look of longing. Harald had grown over the years, all his training with a disciplined army making him stronger, and larger. His hair had grown, as had his beard, and on the days the two managed to keep the peace without arguments, Harald allowed him to trim them. He looked older, more king than prince, and it made his stomach churn to admit it to himself.

Harald walked past them with a nod, coming to a stop at the entrance of the tunnel and peering into the darkness inside where Batu and Kaysan waited for the right moment. They were to draw the attention of the soldiers and coax them into attacking first so the flames from their attack ignited the trail leading to the sulfur. Once ignited, the two had to run before the tunnel exploded and the wall fell. Harald raised his battle axe and lightly tapped the bell, the one Batu needed to ring when the plan sprung into action.

"You never were good at waiting, were you?" Leif arched a brow, wrapping his fingers around the bell to stop it from swaying and tolling. A small, playful smile tugged at Harald's lips. "Patience. It won't be long now, friend."

"Patience is hardly one of Harald's best attributes." (Y/N) murmured, a hint of teasing in his voice that drew Harald's lips into a full smile. Harald's hand reached out toward him, his palm pressing over his hip and sliding over his lower back; fingers dipping under the silver armor and pressing into the fabric beneath. His touch always felt protective and safe, but it never failed to fill (Y/N) with a false sense of hope.

"It has always been one of yours, though," Harald spoke softly, his fingertips rubbing the fabric into (Y/N)'s skin affectionately. His eyes crinkled, and despite everything that'd been bubbling up inside (Y/N)'s stomach, he returned the smile. The prince's hand moved to the base of his neck, squeezing the exposed skin there lightly. To any strangers, it may have come across as two close friends merely speaking. But it was simply because Harald couldn't touch his face in public as he desired. "We should speak after the battle, (Y/N). I cannot allow another day to pass without us having a conversation."

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) gave a small nod and wrapped his fingers over Harald's wrist. "Fine, Harald." Harald's features brightened and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together before he released him as the bell began to toll.

The enemy had fallen right for Leif's trap, just as they had hoped.

Harald clapped Leif's shoulder and trekked back to his post atop a mound of dirt overlooking his army of seven hundred men and women. He began his speech, his words of encouragement riling up the army into cheers and shouts, warrior cries and calls. (Y/N) lingered by the tunnel's entrance, searching the dark for any sign of Batu and Kaysan as the army erupted into more cheers and cries. He spotted movement and Batu emerged, his armor slightly singed and parts of him coated in ash. (Y/N) waited with bated breath for Kaysan, but he never emerged,

"Leif," (Y/N) turned to look at his brother, giving a light shake of his head. Leif's jaw clenched and he inhaled sharply, tossing his axe to Batu and motioning for him to join the others before he entered the tunnel, the darkness swallowing him and voice echoing off the walls until it grew distant and hardly audible.

The cries and war horns sounded off through the valley as the army moved, rushing toward the wall their tunnel had led to. The ground gave a light tremor, and through the darkness, Leif emerged with Kaysan leaning on his body, a trickle of blood seeping down from his temple as dark smoke escaped from within the tunnel. (Y/N) called over one of the healers, helping his brother hand Kaysan off to the older man before the two turned and spotted the wall crumbling into a heap of smoke and dust. General Maniakes' men sprinted into action, following after the Varangians and joining the battle.

"Come!" Leif called to him, taking two axes for himself and running toward the fortress with (Y/N) hot on his heels.

Stepping through the rumble of the fallen wall, all that could be heard were cries of anger and pain, the clashing of metal against metal, and the thumping of rushing footsteps as all armies hurried to fight and defend. (Y/N) moved forward, locking onto the first Saracen soldier he saw and swinging his axe. The soldier blocked with his shield and then pulled it away to thrust his sword forward, but (Y/N) anticipated the attack and dodged, raising his axe and embedding the blade into the side of the soldier's throat.

Taking the shield for himself, (Y/N) used it to block attacks from other soldiers, shoving them back and into expecting Varangians who struck the soldiers down with cries and heaves. The first wave of soldiers fell easily and (Y/N) heard Harald's victory cry sound off throughout the air, the tight crowd dispersing throughout the fortress to attack, take, and conquer as they made their way to the castle. The people residing within the walls had quickly fled to the castle for sanctuary, leaving the place largely deserted apart from the second and then the third wave of soldiers.

By the time they reached the castle gates, Emperor Romanos had joined them, and with his appearance came a plea for parley that momentarily stopped the fighting. (Y/N) found his way to Leif, standing beside him and Dorn as the gates into the castle slowly parted, revealing soldiers inside and the people that'd taken refuge watching from windows or along the roofs. Their ruler, the Emir of Syracuse, waited in the center, clad in clothes and robes of gold and black. He walked forward, and despite his city having been sacked, his face remained unreadable.

"Emir," Emperor Romanos spoke, "We have reached your barbican and taken your city. Your castle is surrounded. I have come to ask for your surrender, to save your people unnecessary suffering and death." Leif stepped forward, beginning to repeat his words in Arabic but the Emir raised his hand to stop him.

"A translator is not necessary. I understand you perfectly." He said, waving Leif off before he turned his attention back to Emperor Romanos, his dark eyes studying the shorter man before him. "There will be no surrender. As we speak, a great Saracen army is on its way from Cairo and Alexandria to join us. When it arrives it will be you who is surrounded and destroyed."

"For your sake, you should hope it arrives soon." Emperor Ramons responded.

There seemed to be a certain smugness that passed over the Emir's features, finally breaking the serious stare. "We are not worried. We have food and supplies to last us many months."

"But no water." Leif piped up, and the smugness promptly vanished, the furrow in Emir's brows disappearing and the corner of his lips turning downwards. "Syracuse has six wells. I diverted water from five. Your supply will last a week at most."

At that, Emperor Romanos grinned. "Perhaps your allies will reach you and destroy us before that happens, or perhaps they won't and..." His eyes raised and dragged over the people watching and listening, amongst them women and frightened children. The Emir's head turned and (Y/N) followed his line of sight to a woman with three children at her side, all of various ages. His wife and children, he assumed. "Syracuse will perish. But either way.. many will die. And all will suffer."

"Then I offer another solution," The Emir said, tearing his attention away from his family to look back at them. "Single combat between two fighters. If you are victorious, Sycaruse is yours and you have my promise that my warriors will not retaliate. If you lose, you must depart and not return. Either way, my people must not be harmed."

"And who would your warrior be?" The Emperor inquired with a slight tilt of his head. (Y/N) glanced toward Harald, and then General Maniakes. The brutal, hate-filled man had hardly done much to win his ruler's approval over the last days, at least in comparison to Harald who'd handed him the fortress on a golden platter with little trouble. The Emperor himself would never fight, but he'd certainly unleash his favorite dog on the enemy.

"Me," Emir answered icily. "And yours?"

"I fight for the empire." General Maniakes deep voice rumbled as he stepped forward but Emperor Romanos raised his hand to stop him, shaking his head and turning to look over his shoulder at Harald. The corners of his lips twisted up into a smile, one that made General Maniakes scowl and glare viciously at Harald.

"You will fight my Varangian." Emperor Romanos responded, striding forward toward the Emir and giving a dip of his head. "And you have my promise. Your people will not be harmed and our agreement, honored."

(Y/N) remained silent the walk back to camp, his gaze bouncing between the floor and staring holes into the back of Harald's head as they entered Leif's tent alongside the others. He approached the basin and dipped a rag inside, roughly wiping his hands and face clean to distract himself from his churning mind. He could feel the irritation creeping up his back, an annoyance he couldn't quite pin on anyone. Batu sharpened Harald's axe in thought, the sound filling the silence while Kaysan helped Harald adjust his armor.

"If we were in Novgorod, I could sell a thousand seats and make enough to retire," Batu said and laughed heartily, his words only reminding (Y/N) of the countless times Harald had thrown himself into battle without thinking. He scarcely had good memories of Novgorod, and the ones he remembered vividly were of Harald bloody and battered.

Without thinking, (Y/N) sent Batu a glare sharp enough to get his friend to hurriedly clamp his mouth shut and wince. He cleared his throat and diverted his eyes, subtly motioning for Kaysan and him to make their exit. Kaysan nodded and stood up from his stool, giving Harald a pat on the shoulder as Batu handed him his axe back and smiled encouragingly before the two quickly slipped out of the tent; leaving Harald alone with the two brothers.

"We can select three weapons. I'll start with the battle axe." Harald spoke, approaching the weapon's table and setting the axe alongside the rest. (Y/N) inhaled deeply through his nose and rubbed his fingertips against his temple to soothe the beginnings of a headache away before it could consume him. Leif remained equally as silent and it finally made Harald cave. "You're both quiet, which means you're either angry or worried about something. Perhaps both."

"I worry you underestimate him," Leif revealed with a sigh, raising his head to look at his friend with a growing frown. Harald scoffed, his brows furrowing as his eyes darted between the two brothers, almost as if offended they'd doubt him. (Y/N) squeezed the water out of the rag and set it aside to dry, finally looking up at the prince.

"I underestimate no man who's trying to kill me." Harald retorted, turning his irritated stare onto the weapons spread out in front of him. "We'll both be fighting for our lives."

"No, only you will be." Leif's lips formed a grim line, feet moving slowly as he approached his friend and motioned in the direction of the castle. "He is fighting for his people."

"As am I-"

"What people? Yours or Romanos's?" Leif questioned him sharply, arching his brows and drawing a scowl from Harald. (Y/N) leaned his hip back against the table, his arms folding over his stomach. Harald and his short temper... it was a mystery how the man had lived for so long without getting himself killed.

"I fight today for the same reason I've been fighting for the last seven years! For treasure." It stung, even if (Y/N) had seen it coming, piercing his stomach and sucking him dry of the false hope. "So I can return to Norway and assume the throne of my people, which is rightfully mine. Nothing else."

"I am glad to hear my brother and I are hardly considered things you fight for, Harald, after we've spent the last seven years fighting and living in a foreign country for you." (Y/N) seethed, and the tension in Harald's shoulders disappeared, his eyes squeezing shut and a silent curse forming on his lips. His chest heaved with a sigh and he stepped past Leif, his arm extending to grab him but (Y/N) smacked it away with a scoff. "I can understand caring little for a bedmate but Leif deserves to be someone you fight for after everything he's done for you."

"A bedmate- (Y/N), I-"

"Enjoy your fight, General." (Y/N) shoved past him forcibly and rounded the table before Harald could attempt to stop him. He threw the flaps of the tent apart and stepped out into the sunlight, taking a sharp inhale of the fresh air to calm the fury and hurt dancing along his veins. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his dagger, allowing himself to take a few more steadying breaths.

He'd made the right decision years prior, he reminded himself. Harald proved it to him time after time. He just needed a reminder every once in a while, even if it hurt.

(Y/N) avoided looking in Harald's direction once he finished preparing for the fight, only focusing on following Emperor Romanos into the castle where they'd set up an area for the fight. He broke away from the Emperor's tight crowd to stand behind the table where Batu placed Harald's other two choices of weapon: a smaller battle axe and a sword, with the larger battle axe being the one he walked into the makeshift arena with.

"He didn't mean to say it like that," Leif said quietly, always the one forced to make peace between them. (Y/N) pursed his lips and clasped his hands in front of himself, his fingers wrapping tightly around his palm. "I know you called yourself a bedmate to hurt him, (Y/N). You've seen how desperate he's been these past three years; you've seen how he gets when he hears you have a new lover. You are much more to him than that."

"But not enough to desire a different destiny for himself." Leif fell quiet at that, his softened eyes gazing into the side of his brother's face before he sighed softly and looked forward toward the two fighters when they entered the arena and assumed their positions. Despite his lingering hurt, worry jabbed at his stomach for Harald.

Harald moved first, swinging his axe upward to knock back the Emir's sword, but the Emir moved swiftly, turning on his feet and facing Harald before he could turn around. Harald's jaw ticked and he studied his opponent, switching which hand held the axe before he charged again, grasping the axe with both hands and taking a few swings at him; metal clanging through the air as the Emir swiftly blocked each swing with his sword until Harald turned his axe and slammed the blunt end against his chest, forcing him back a few steps.

The Emir grunted and grabbed Harald's axe, shoving it back and mimicking his movement as he slammed the handle of his sword repeatedly into Harald's chest which forced Harald to stumble backward and just barely dodge a swing from the sword. The Emir charged, giving Harald hardly any time to dodge another swing but he managed to duck down in time and create some distance between them to reassess his approach. The Emir sneered, baring his teeth and grasping the handle of his sword with both hands. He was a good fighter, as all rulers had to be.

Harald charged again, slamming the end and top of his axe repeatedly against the Emir's side before slamming the top near his armpit and forcing him back roughly against the stone wall. The Emir released a shout at the impact and shoved the axe away, slashing his sword at Harald and missing his chest plate by an inch or so. Harald swung again, only for his axe to slam into the wall and break in half, leaving him without a weapon.

With the half still in hand, he managed to defend himself by blocking the Emir's attacks as he sprang and walked backward toward the table. He threw the broken piece at the Emir's head, nearly hitting his ear, and swiftly turned on his heel to snatch both weapons from the table. He faced the Emir once more, eyes narrowing when the Emir approached his own table and took two new swords into his hands. They stared at each other for a brief moment, catching their breaths.

The Emir charged first with a cry - perhaps growing emboldened with the trickle of blood seeping from Harald's brow - and swung both his swords at him relentlessly, turning and swinging as he followed Harald's quick dodges. Harald nearly sank his axe into the Emir's face in a quick turn but the Emir dodged it in time. They continued back and forth, swinging and dodging hits from each other with grunts and cries. They moved viciously and relentlessly, switching between fighting offensively and defensively within seconds as they grew more enraged and desperate for a win.

Harald managed to swipe at the Emir's feet and knock him onto the gravelly ground, the Emir's foot rising up quickly to slam into Harald's knee and knock him down into a kneeling position. The Emir moved onto his knees as well, the blows they swung at each other forcing them to remain kneeling until the Emir launched himself forward and Harald threw himself backward, both men rolling along the floor. Harald moved onto his side and attempted to stab the Emir in the side with his sword but the Emir slashed right through the blade, leaving him with a sword resembling a knife.

The two men scrambled upright and assessed each other again, sucking in large gulps of air and staring each other down. Harald switched the way he held his broken sword and the swing-block dance resumed until Harald swung at the Emir's and was cut just above the elbow. He released a cry of pain and sound around, wincing as he touched his bleeding arm before looking up at his opponent. The Emir stared at Harald, his breathing turning wheezy and his feet staggering. (Y/N) caught the gleam of the broken sword jammed right below the Emir's armpit.

The Emir raised his arm and stumbled forward again, a look of distraught passing over his features as he fell to his knees and slumped forward. While Emperor Romanos's men erupted into cheers of victory, (Y/N) couldn't help but look in the direction of the Emir's wife, watching the tears stream helplessly down her face. Her husband had fought bravely, not just for his people but for her and their children. (Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek.

His father had fought and killed countless of men, simply because he could and felt like it, but at least in Greenland, when you killed a man it was because it was necessary. For food, shelter, to defend your family. But in Constantinople, they took lives to make an emperor richer. They killed for treasure they hardly used, and for little else.

(Y/N) grimaced. He missed home.

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owatazumi · 1 year ago

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basileia | enhypen

genre royal, kingdoms, vampires, fluff, fantasy, female!reader, enha as vampires and princes featuring enhypen!vamp!prince and reader!princess warnings mention of blood, violence, etc. in future episodes

as the princess of one of the most feared and well-known kingdoms it wasn’t unusual for you to get letters and invites from other kingdoms yet you never really paid much attention to them since they were boring and un-amusing in your eyes.

A gust of wind swirled into your chambers as the courier walked in. You could feel your heart racing in anticipation as you saw the mysterious seal of the Adon Kingdom on the letter he held. You had heard many stories about this ancient kingdom but never imagined they would make a move like this, a move that could affect your path forever.

trepidation filled you as you opened the note and read its contents, unaware of what may be coming next...

“dear princess,

It is our great pleasure to extend an invitation to Your Majesty to attend the coronation of Prince Heeseung atop the throne of the Adon Kingdom. This historic occasion marks the first time in three decades that a new ruler will be installed. We would be honored if you were to grace us with your presence on this joyous day, as it would indeed be a privilege for all those present. We eagerly anticipate your arrival at our grand celebration on the 3rd of November. Prepare for a day of unforgettable festivities and merriment, as we welcome you to the majestic kingdom of adon. Your presence is greatly appreciated and awaited.

sincerely, the kingdom of adon."

you had never encountered an opportunity like this before and you couldn’t contain your excitement as you immediately went to prepare for the trip to the kingdom.

after a long journey, you arrived at the gates of the adon castle perfectly in time. to your surprise, you were welcomed by three princes who were wearing their representative colors ever so elegently as they greeted you. the youngests gaze made it clear that he wasn't happy about having a stranger enter his kingdom and his two elder brothers seemed equally hesitant but still managed to welcome you with warm smiles and respectful bows “welcome dear princess” their voices harmonized together beautifully. "i hope you had a pleasant journey, dear, im jay, prince of mars" as he introduced himself his hand went to his chest, a small grin plastered on his lips. your eyes land on the boy with black and white hair who is staring at you with distrust. the dark-haired boy who seems pretty quiet and observant notices the staring contest between you both and finally speaks up "dont mind riki... he doesnt trust people at first yet he does warm up at some point." jay nods in agreement and lets out a hum before motioning you to follow them inside. the castle was huge you could even say humongous yet it was beautiful and oh so breathtaking. "im sunghoon, prince of mercury, m´lady..." the prince introduced himself right before leaving you at the bottom of the staircase so you could meet their oldest brother.

your heart raced, waiting patiently amidst this spectacle, you finally caught the prince's attention. Your hesitation led you to approach the boy slowly and carefully, introducing yourself in an admiring and respectful tone “good morning your majesty, I’m the princess of azure” he nodded in approval as he extended his arm for you to grasp “no need for such formalities princess...” His eyes locked with yours and you could almost feel the weight of all of your worries and fears slipping from your shoulders. “Just call me heeseung" a smile appears on both of your faces as a blush gracefully spreads across your soft cheeks before a tap on your shoulder prompts you to turn around. you’re met with a pink-haired boy who has the brightest smile you have ever seen. “hello dear princess!” the boy beams you a smile as he reaches out his hand for you to take. he leads it in front of his mouth yet before he does anything his eyes meet your widened ones “may i?” he refers to your hand which is in front of his lips and right after you agree he gives a light kiss to your knuckles as he bows before he stands up straight once again “i’m glad you could make it princess” his smile was really addicting and you just couldnt take your eyes off of the boy. heeseung was still beside you and so was the pink-haired boy who was talking to you in pure excitement. they lead you to their table where a few other boys already settled down including jay, sunghoon and riki. “i’ve always wanted to meet you! i’ve heard so much about you but of course only good things!” his enthusiasm made you chuckle “thank you, i’m glad to meet you too— what was your name?“ you tilted your head as you leaned slightly closer to hear him better since the room was quite loud. “my apologies princess, im sunoo, prince of venus" you felt your heart flutter as your eyes met his. you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you realize that you are seated with the most feared and respected kingdom of all time...

to be continued...

<33

@j-wyoung @lacieeeeee00

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wangxianficrecs · 11 months ago

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Rewind 2023 - Part IV

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023

It's time for the last post of our Rewind 2023. There are still a few stories left that were published this year that deserve a shout-out and I hope you will shower them with love as well. I'll also make sure to make a Masterpost for all Rewind 2023 posts, so that it's more convenient to find them.

Part I

Part II

Part III

~*~

watch your anger

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

T, 1k, Cangse Sanren | Kay's Rec

Summary: Watch your anger, her master used to say, never reprimanding Cangse Sanren for her temper tantrums, mainly reminding her of what she stood to lose if she gave in. Cangse Sanren survives. Wei Changze does not.

~*~

Day 1: Dad!Xian

by UseMyMuse (@museywrites)

G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of Xiantober 2023

Summary: Wei Ying is a tired single parent, but a good cup of coffee and a handsome, flirty stranger leads to a happy future

~*~

Day 4: Ghost!Xian

by UseMyMuse (@museywrites)

T, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of Xiantober 2023

Summary: Wei Ying died at the age of 10, but miraculously the little boy Lan Wangji from down the street was able to see him. They become an unlikely pair and form an unbreakable friendship. Things seem fine until a hostile presence shakes Wei Ying to his ghostly core.

~*~

waiting for us

by sunflowersfield

T, 3k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Ying is in the middle of cooking dinner when Lan Zhan walks into the apartment on Friday night. As soon as the door opens, Wei Ying drops his knife onto the counter with a clatter, abandoning his recipe so that he can throw his arms around Lan Zhan and pull him close. “You’re here!” he exclaims, grinning when he feels Lan Zhan’s arms curl around his waist. “I am here,” Lan Zhan replies in his steady, calming voice, and Wei Ying’s smile grows wider. Or: Wei Ying and Lan Zhan attend different colleges, but they spend every weekend together.

~*~

Snapping The Banjo

by Anonymous

M, 8k, Wangxian & Xuanli | Kay's Rec

Summary: “A-Jie…” Jiang Cheng pushes. “I broke my husband’s penis during sex.” One quick in-out breath as Yanli raises her chin high, pivots sharply on her heel and marches back off towards the building. Wei Ying opens his mouth. Jiang Cheng slowly raises a hand to silence him, expression on his face as if he had been slapped with a wet fish. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan's date night has gone wrong. Then, Jiang Yanli calls to ask her brothers for a ride to the hospital. Jiang Yanli's date night has gone very wrong.

~*~

Just a Little Wound

by meyari

T, 4k, Wangxian | Mojo's Rec

Summary: Raising a child is sometimes a challenge, especially when you’re confronted with a little boy who has no idea whatsoever why it’s not appropriate to stab people who are rude.

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a better world

by ilip13 (@ilip13)

G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: It’s been a year, today. A year of wearing a borrowed body, and all of a sudden, Wei Wuxian doesn’t feel like getting up and getting on with his day. * Some days are not great and that's okay.

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At the end of all things

by Entityx

M, 6k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of the MDZS Mini Remix for Tired Adults™

Summary: Lan Wangji is aware that he is not the only one who is left haunted by constant bloodshed. Everyone has changed over the course of the Sunshot Campaign. However the one who underwent the most drastic change was undeniable. It's subtle- he's still friendly and boisterous with members of his sect. But he is not truly open anymore. Gone is the optimistic boy who radiated sincerity with every word. Instead he is replaced with a hollow imitation, with a smile cracked at the edges, and a laugh that is too hollow to fool anyone.

~*~

What Lies Beneath These Hallowed Woods

by meekome (@meekkome)

M, WIP, 19k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: The shadows are alive. Writhing and twisting around him, creeping over him, between his fingers, around his throat, curious and hungry. The dirt beneath is black like dried blood, which makes the shards and fragments of bones half-buried around him easy to see, white and glimmering unnaturally bright in the gloom. Then something looks at him, from behind the shadows, and Wei Wuxian flinches at the weight of its attention. “Who are you?” Wei Wuxian says, voice echoing strangely as the silence stretches and the resentment nips at his skin, held back by this thing he cannot see. You do not have a name for what I am, it finally says. Wei Wuxian sucks in a slow breath. “What are you, then?” The trees bend and snap in a sudden breeze and the ghosts around him spin and whine, and Wei Wuxian is horrified to realize it is laughing. Shall I let you see, little cultivator? Doing so has driven more humans mad than the number of bones that sleep beneath your feet. But Wei Wuxian has never been good at ignoring knowledge, no matter the consequences, and he does not look away.

~*~

an inch away from more (than just friends)

by occultings (microcomets) (@microcomets)

E, 15k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of WLW Wangxian Week 2023

Summary: “What do you think about,” Wei Ying said aloud, before she could stop herself, before she could even think twice about the repercussions. “When you.” She finally found Lan Zhan’s eyes, molten in the low light, and swallowed in a tiny, audible gulp. “You know.” On Wei Ying, Lan Zhan’s gaze didn’t waver even a fraction. “Giving head,” she said. Wei Ying was certain she’d misheard. “Getting head?” “No,” said Lan Zhan. — After a surprise party gone awry, Wei Ying surprises herself.

~*~

💙 The loudest silence

by barisan (@barisan-no)

T, 15k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of the MDZS Mini Remix for Tired Adults™

Summary: In almost two decades of peace and with a whole generation who has not known differently, it is hard for those who sit above such dangers to fear a banal death. In a lifetime of not knowing what it means to be truly and utterly alone in such a world, it is hard to understand it is often a sentence. Or, a remix of our beloved post-cql WWX whump

~*~

The lavender handkerchief

by barisan (@barisan-no)

Not rated, 1k, Lan Qiren & Wei Wuxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets left a deeper wound on his mind. Lan Qiren finds him having a panic attack after being triggered during his punishment.

~*~

Song of the River Rain

by MajiLovePrincess

E, 9k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of the MDZS Reverse Big Bang: 2023

Summary: “Jiaoren,” the man breathes, his voice soft and his golden eyes wide. Those strange eyes dart over Wei Wuxian’s sharp ears and nails before lingering on the bloody red of his tail. “Human,” Wei Wuxian sneers. “You should have fled when you had the chance.” ... When he wakes from his winter sleep, Wei Wuxian attempts to drive a farmer from his territory. He falls in love, instead. Lan Zhan's mysterious past does not do them the courtesy of staying buried.

~*~

Fit for Purpose

by Deastar (@youhideastar)

E, 18k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Wuxian is given clean clothes, and as much food as he wants, and a blanket. He still doesn’t know what a beta is. But he knows he is one, now. And he knows that that’s the reason he has these wonderful things. When Wei Wuxian was a little boy, Jiang Fengmian brought him home to Lotus Pier; when Yu Ziyuan learned the boy was a beta, she allowed him to stay. 30 years later, a resurrected Wei Wuxian hangs around Cloud Recesses and waits to wear out his welcome.

~*~

💙 all is bright

by sunflowersfield

T, 4k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Ying has slept in many different places. He has curled up on a park bench or a tiny cot in a room full of strangers. But somehow, he has never shared a bed with someone he cares about. He is realizing, now, as the sound machine fills his room with the pitter-patter of gentle rain, that he cares about Lan Zhan. Or: Wei Ying moves into his first apartment. His new neighbor helps him turn it into a home.

~*~

Your Shelter

by cosmicmilktea

T, WIP, 2k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Part of the MDZS Mini Remix for Tired Adults™

Summary: “There is no need for sorry,” Lan-gege had told him, what seemed like such a long time ago, “Robes can be cleaned.” But a soiled robe in Lotus Pier means lashes on his back and a night of kneeling in the ancestral hall, even if Jiang Cheng and all the other disciples also came back with mud and reeds painting their robes. A soiled robe means hearing baba and mama's names spoken in malice and ridicule. It means a gentle chiding from shijie as she pats his head and offers him a bowl of warm soup, which only made him miss the warmth of Xian-gege's safe embrace. His back hurts, and his knees ache from kneeling so long. Beneath his robes, Lan-gege's ribbon presses close to his heart, and it reminds him how he had felt so safe with the two men. How baba and mama had also made him feel safe even without the shelter of gilded walls and roofs. He longs to be that safe again, the longing building and building in the too-small confines of his chest until Wei Ying can not hold it in any longer. He runs.

~*~

We Meet at the Thousandth Step

by Admiranda (@ladypfenix), Rynne (@rynne)

T, WIP, 142k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: As they both go wherever the chaos might be, Lan Wangji and rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian, eldest child of the famous Cangse-sanren, find their paths converging. Soon they'll discover in each other the perfect partner for night hunting...and beyond.

~*~

12 Hours In Hell and Paradise (Or: Lan Zhan’s Distinguished Guide to Seasonal Depression)

by demonicsalad (@santonali)

T, 4k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Ying (1:01PM): brb putting lobotomy on my 2024 goals list Lan Zhan (1:02PM): Wei Ying. Wei Ying (1:02PM): [screenshot attached] Wei Ying (1:03PM): did i fucking stutter Or: of tears, tea, rotting, and long-overdue realizations

~*~

pale shadows of forgotten names

by Chrononautical (@chrononautintraining)

T, 56k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: To protect the Wen, Wei Wuxian throws himself on the mercy of the Lan Sect. To protect Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji marries him. To protect them all, Lan Xichen orders the Yiling Laozu's seclusion in the Jingshi. But the Jingshi had another occupant in the past. One who lingers on, furious to think that history might repeat.

~*~

Cuties and Questions

by WiseDawn13 (@wisedawn13)

T, 6k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: “Suibian?” a deep voice says suddenly, catching his attention. Wei Ying opens his eyes to look at who approached and promptly finds himself without breath at the sight of the man in front of him. After all these years he shouldn’t recognize him so easily, but Wei Ying would never be able to forget those eyes. “Oh!” Wen Ning squeaks. “You are familiar with Suibian?” Wei Ying watches as Lan Zhan nods to Wen Ning. “I am. Are you the creator of Yiling Cuties?” “Ah? Oh, no. No, that would be him,” Wen Ning replies, somewhat flustered. It takes far too long for Wei Ying to realize that Wen Ning just diverted Lan Zhan’s attention to him because suddenly those golden brown eyes are staring directly into his soul and it hurts more than he would have expected. OR Wei Ying and Lan Zhan lost touch when Wei Ying's family moved away when they were kids. Wei Ying moves back to his hometown years later, meeting the man he once knew as his best friend.

~*~

💙 A New Dynasty

by One_eyed_God (@oneeyedoctogod)

T, Series, WIP, 76k, Background Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Wuxian is well-known as a trouble-maker, someone who likes jokes and chaos. He promptly proves this by disappearing without a trace from the Cloud Recesses, in the middle of the Lectures. But when war is on the horizon and tensions boil over, can his actions really be summarized as a simple prank? Or, the unbelievable story of Wei Wuxian, time traveller, told from everyone's point of view but his.

~*~

Christmas Eve at Number 16

by liulans (@liulans)

T, 9k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Wangji considers that for a moment, squaring Wei Wuxian up. And then he says, “You are asking– if I would like to spend Christmas with you?” “It doesn't have to be, like, Christmassy,” he reminds him. “We can just hang out. Maybe you can come over tomorrow evening, and I'll have you back in your apartment before midnight. And then on Christmas day, I'll bring you an apple for luck, and that can be that.” “Okay.” Lan Wangji says, after a moment of brow-furrowing contemplation. “...Okay?” “I will see you tomorrow. I will– spend Christmas with you.” --- [Prompt: Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbour Character B.]

~*~

Cleaning & Courtship

by Winxhelina (@winxhelina)

T, 13k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: It all started with some offhand comment Jin Zixun had made about Wei Wuxian's father having been a servant. About how he should stick to that and not aim for places not meant for him. Wei Wuxian had been at a party at the time with Nie Huaisang and unlikely as it had been, Lan Wangji had been there too. Wei Wuxian had complained about money and that had seemingly inspired the comment from a man, who, Wei Wuxian was sure, had never worked a day in his life. Lan Wangji had stared at Jin Zixun so hard Wei Wuxian thought he might actually drop dead. Somehow, two months later, Wei Wuxian actually finds himself cleaning rich people’s houses. There are very few cultivators wiling to clean houses for other cultivators, but there is demand for it. You can't hire a regular maid to dust and clean your ancient artefacts, even just sword maintenance is a whole area of expertise that civilians aren't qualified to do. In which Wei Wuxian accidentally ends up cleaning his long-time friend's house and Lan Zhan's room harbours a secret.

~*~

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