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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years ago

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The Lost Boys: Call 911

GIF by lostinsantacarla

Paul x Reader

Word Count: 2,550

Summary: Reader is out on patrol as part of the Santa Carla PD when they respond to a call out at the wharf.

Amid the riotous flare of fireworks and fire crackers, it was difficult to make out the quickly approaching cop car but Marko prided himself on being observative.

Paul, Paulie, P-Man, his forever partner on the other hand…

Grabbing Paul by the front of his tank, he pulled the other vampire down to hiss in his ear. “We got company. We bail on my signal, got it?”

The honey blonde nodded distractedly, mesmerized by the bright bursts of colors overhead. The reds and blues and whites and pinks mixed with the curtain of smoke, creating a kaleidoscope against the inky night sky.

He only heard part of what Marko was gripping about—something about a signal—but it wasn’t his fault he was having so much fun.

Another of their fireworks went off from behind Max’s Video, making him laugh even harder when some empty pallets became collateral. They splintered into pieces, the crunching sound of the wood masked by the other explosions.

Nothing said summer time fun like launching some Big Boys at the video store. It was a rockin’ light show and piss-off-Max scheme all wrapped in one. The crochety, old douche in question would no doubt have some choice words for them later but Paul wasn’t thinking about that; the only thing on his mind was blowing shit up.

In fact, he was so into it that he wasn’t prepared for the sharp punch to his ribs. He flew into the wall as Marko ran past, scampering to get airborne. “Go, go, go!”

The back door to the store opened with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud crack. Paul could sympathize. Two officers came through and before he could even think to pick himself up and run, they were on him.

The rounder of the two sat on his back, putting all his pounds into pinning Paul down. Normally, he would’ve thrown him off and maybe, probably, killed him, no sweat.

But.

There were too many people around that could catch him in the act. There’s no way Max would step in and not even Paul was stupid enough to slaughter that many people in plain sight.

Marko, he whined through the bond. A little help, bud? I’m kinda stuck.

All he got back was a manic cackle.

Paul squawked in outrage, knowing that the other would not be lending an assist. That traitor was all too content to sit back and laugh at him.

Whatever.

Screw him then.

It’s not like Paul had never been hauled in before anyhow.

“You know,” he grunted to the cop on his back, “It’s a good thing you’re not fat or anything, otherwise this would be more difficult.”

The knee dug into his back even harder and his head was pulled back by his hair. It didn’t hurt that much but still! He worked for hours to make his hair look good!

“Police brutality! I have rights, you know!” he yelled. The cop was starting to get on his nerves.

His face was shoved back into the ground and he ate gravel, sputtering to get the pebbles and grime out of his mouth with mixed success. The taste lingered and the only way to get rid of it would be to wash it down with something—

Hmm. He hadn’t planned on feeding that night but some pig blood would take care of it nicely.

He attempted to at least think of an isolated spot to rip out his throat without getting caught. Maybe in the cop car. Maybe he could drag him to the bushes outside of the station.

Oh! If the guy stopped for doughnuts, he could steal the car—doughnuts sounded good though. A nice chocolate glaze with sprinkles or something filled with strawberry jelly! The corner store on the boulevard had the best selection this time of night. He needed more hairspray, too, as long as he was at it, a magazine or three—he shook his head.

Come on, self, get it together!

“I’m going to find the one that ran. Officer Y/LN, you take this idiot back to the car and sit tight until I get back.”

Roughly, he was hauled to his feet and he had been so focused on the tub of lard that had him on the ground that he forgot two cops had burst through the door.

He planted his feet and refused to be moved as he glanced at the second one. It was like pushing at a stone wall, the other at his back unable to shove him into motion.

Immediately, Paul realized his mistake.

Why was he so occupied with that other asshole when he could’ve been looking at you, been pressed up against you the entire time?

The saying was that everyone loved a person in uniform and Paul was no exception. You made the normally dull standard navy uniform look good, the short sleeves showing off your arms and the pants managed to cup your ass in the tastiest way.

He’d cup your ass even better, if you gave him the chance.

Even the serious, disapproving scowl on your face was hot. What he wouldn’t do to get you to make that face with you on top of him, manhandling him any which way you wanted.

Screw his little feeding plan. He was willing to spare your partner in exchange for getting to know you better.

A big happy smile stretching across his face, he finally moved, dragging your partner rather than being forced forward.

“Hey, sexy,” he said with his signature wink, the one that always got him what he wanted with people. “Name’s Paul.”

To his disappointment, you didn’t respond and merely took control of his handcuffed hands as they were passed over.

As you lead him back through the video store, he pulled his arms to the left, acting like he was trying to resist. Just like he expected, you corrected him with a strong, tight grip that sent a rush down his spine.

“Ouch, babe, not so rough,” he purred. “I’m very sensitive.”

He glanced back quick to see your reaction and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. You still wore a straight face that gave nothing away. No clenched jaw, no embarrassed tightening of your eyes. Definitely no hint of an amused smile.

Gods, babe. You were really testing him.

Guess he’d have to try harder.

***

You were new to the Santa Carla Police Department. Very new. New as in it was your first incident on your first night on patrol.

It was just your luck that you’d ended up with airhead who’d set off a whole fireworks display right outside of a crowded store, which could have serious injury, and was now trying to flirt his way out of it.

Hell—was he pouting?

For a city of its size, Santa Carla PD had a surprising number of job openings. You were new to the area, having moved because it seemed like a nice, sunny California beach town and you were in need of a change.

You didn’t have any prior experience but you’d passed all the screenings and tests and expected the job offer they made. It had benefits, the pay was good, and, importantly, it was legal which seemed to be in short supply around these parts.

That last part was a surprise, especially with the high number of missing people’s cases; you’d think that more places would be desperate to fill jobs, too.

Steering the suspect towards the check out counter, you flagged down the owner who had been the called in to the station.

He turned towards you with a smile on his face and greeted you politely. “Hello, officer.”

“We caught one suspect, sir. The other fled the scene and my partner went after him. I’ll get started on the report—are you planning to press charges?”

The smile was suddenly no where to be seen and he casted a glare at the handcuffed blonde.

“But of course. I’ve told this degenerate and the others in this gang to stay out of here a hundred times before. They’ve gone too far this time.”

The suspect merely shrugged his shoulders and winked at you which set the owner off further.

“That! That right there is what I’m talking about. No respect, no conduct. How is a father supposed to parent if he gets no respect? Maybe they’re missing a motherly influence,” he trailed off.

A motherly influence? Okaaay, then.

Clearing your throat, you tried to bring the conversation back to topic. “Yeah…Well let me put him in the car and then we can get started on the report. Have a good night, sir.”

That should’ve been the end of it but of course the blonde had to open his big mouth. “Bye daddy!”

Max’s hand came down heavy on the counter and you jostled the boy away before he managed to start a full-blown confrontation.

“You surely have a big mouth for someone who’s being arrested. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

His head perked up and you had to really plant your weight to keep him from turning around and sending you flying into a display in the process. Definitely stronger than he looked.

You noted that piece of information just in case he tried anything else.

“Aww. Are you worried about me?” he cooed. “Don’t be. I trust you to protect me, officer.”

“Any one ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?”

“All the time,” he nodded happily.

The profile of the suspect was coming together in your mind. Clearly, he was simple.

Happy and excitable, and yes, even pretty, but simple.

There’s no way he had been the mastermind behind the firework plot; that honor was likely saved for the one who escaped. He probably hadn’t agreed to do it with malicious intent either. Unfortunately, his inability to think things through had landed him in trouble and he was your problem now.

When you got to the entryway he even tried to the door open. “After you, officer.”

With a resigned sigh, you prodded him forward. Again. Really, this guy was worse than a puppy. A puppy could eventually be trained to listen but seeing as how he was late teens/early twenties, it was doubtful he ever would.

“You said your name was Paul?”

The p in his ‘yep’ popped.

“Last name?”

“Just Paul. I wouldn’t mind getting your name though.”

There’s no way you were telling him that. He would be that much more insufferable if he knew. And try as he might to hide his full name, that would come out when you booked him at the station.

“Well, Paul. You’re being charged with public endangerment and vandalism. Under California law, those are both misdemeanor crimes so most likely—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved away your words with a flick of his head. Annoyed, you yanked on the cuffs, causing him to moan. “I do appreciate a good pair of handcuffs.”

“You—!” You had to stop yourself from calling him a little shit out loud. No one would’ve stopped you, but you felt weird about it, almost like it would come off as being unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to bring your voice back down. “Saying crazy things is only going to make things worse for you.”

“Promise to punish me if I don’t?” Another wink was flashed at you.

It was at that point you noticed he had long lashes for a male. They fluttered like butterfly wings whenever he blinked. Except you had a job to do and really shouldn’t care about how pretty he was.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took you by surprise when he leaned in close. Acting on tactical instinct, you threw him against the police vehicle, his torso pressed against the hood with legs spread wide.

The position was designed to be as uncomfortable as it looked so that there was little to no chance of him bucking you off. Good.

“Need I remind you,” you said gruffly, “That you are under arrest. Don’t test me.”

“You should most definitely frisk me,” he panted.

You sincerely hoped it was pain, and not from pleasure, but from your brief encounter with Paul, it honestly could be the latter. Your own heart was pounding in your chest as well but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through your system.

Or so you maintained.

Still, he had a point. Frisking was standard procedure to make sure the suspect was carrying anything potentially dangerous, or illegal. Hell. You were going to have to give into this particular demand, weren’t you?

Wanting to get it over with, you tried to be as fast as possible while still be thorough.

His muscles were surprisingly cold as you felt up his arms and then his back. It was summertime and when most people had problems overheating, it didn’t seem to be an issue for him.

You dreaded going anywhere near his ass but it had to be done. He even insisted on ‘helping’ by pushing his cheeks further into your hands by curving his lower back as you patted down his pants pockets.

“Check the front too. I could have anything down my pants, ya know.”

That didn’t sound suggestive at all. His flirtations were so over the top is was near comical at that point. You couldn’t let him know that though. You were the authority figure in this situation.

“Alright smart guy, the frisking is over with. And surprise, surprise there was exactly nothing in your pants.”

“You wound me, babe.” If he had use of his arms, his hand would’ve definitely been placed over his heart.

Standing him upright, you opened the door to seat him in the back. That had been the plan any way.

One second you held his metal clad wrists firmly in your grip and in the next, he twisted himself away effortlessly.

He spread his hands apart and although they each had a shiny steel band around them, the chain that had connected them broke off with a metallic clink.

Just like that he was completely mobile and he wasted no time.

In another imperceptible move, he covered your back with his front, his breath tickling you.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“It’s been a pleasure, officer, but I really should get going. I’m just too cute for jail.” He rolled his head and his nose traced the shell of your ear with a deep inhale. “This was fun though. Let’s do it again, hmm?”

He shoved you into the back seat and luckily your reflexes were fast enough to catch yourself before you face planted into the leather seat. Thrashing like mad, you spun around as fast as you could but it was no use: Paul was already gone.

Stumbling out, you looked back and forth hoping to catch a glimpse of what direction he went but it was useless. Not only was that little shit stronger than he seemed, he was also faster.

Noted.

With a sinking realization, you knew you were going to have to explain this to your partner.

Oh, you were not looking forward to this…

Worst first night on a job ever.

_______________

Hope you enjoyed Paul! I feel like this is goofy and over the top but I guess that’s basically Paul’s vibes in a nutshell. Marko has definitely gotten Paul arrested before and Max has definitely called the cops on them before too haha. Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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reidingmelodies · 4 years ago

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Sugar Rush

Summary: Who knew finding the perfect wedding day dessert was so much work? Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Category: Fluff Includes: Food consumption, light kissing Word Count: 2.4K

“Did you know the first wedding cake was most likely served in Ancient Greece?” Spencer began, looking down to where you were laying with your head snuggled against his chest. You hummed in interest, moving your hand to meet his where it rested on his lower stomach, intertwining your fingers together. Spencer smiled at the gesture before continuing his spiel, “But one of the earliest mentions of wedding cake originates from Ancient Rome where the cake was actually broken over the bride’s head in the hopes of bringing them good fortune in their life together”.

Your brows furrowed at that, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. “Well, we certainly won’t be doing that at our wedding,” you giggled, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Flipping your hands over, he brought your hand to his line of sight and admired the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. “Do you want to smash cake in my face after we cut it?”

You thought for a second before shaking your head. “I don’t think so- unless that’s something you want to do? I don’t even get why that’s a thing in the first place, it seems kind of gross”.

Spencer sighed in relief, beyond grateful that wasn’t something you wanted to do. He loved you, and he was more than happy to exchange germs with you in other ways- but throwing cake at each other definitely wasn’t his style. “I’m glad you don’t because I feel the same way. Cutting the wedding cake is traditionally seen as a symbol of a couple’s commitment to each other, and I don’t want to ruin that by throwing cake in your face”.

You smiled, rolling over slightly until your stomach laid against his and propping your head up to look down at him. Spencer hummed in approval at the new position, moving his hand from yours and resting it on your lower waist. “Plus,” you added, “we’re paying way too much for the cake to waste a single drop of it”.

Spencer laughed in agreement, pushing himself up lightly to give you a soft kiss on your lips. “So no cake smash- there’s one part of the great cake debate settled”. You groaned at his words, dropping your head and burrowing your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many cake flavors to choose from! Honestly, do we even need a cake?” you groaned, voice coming out as no more than a mumble against your fiancé’s neck. Spencer rubbed your back soothingly, before humming in acknowledgement.

“We’ll figure it out, babe,” he reassured you, giving your forehead a quick kiss. “On the bright side, regardless of whether we pick one or not we’ll get to try at least twenty different types of cakes for lunch tomorrow”.

“I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” you laughed, pushing your upper half up to once again look at his face. “But as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” you finished, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What a sap,” Spencer jokingly mumbled against your lips, causing you to pull away and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“A sap you decided to spend the rest of your life with,” you countered with a smirk, eyes softening in admiration at the grin that spread across Spencer’s face with your words.

“Best decision I ever made,” Spencer claimed softly, sealing his declaration with a concession of kisses against your lips.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair and continuing what you started- leaving the discussion of cakes and all things wedding behind, choosing instead to spend the night entangled with your fiancé, trading kisses and whispered declarations of love well into the evening.

***

The next morning, you sat in the kitchen nursing your cup of coffee while Spencer took a shower before you headed to the bakery. It had been six months of engagement bliss for you and Spencer, and you both found yourself on an impenetrable high for the first three months with no qualms. As far as the two of you were concerned, you were irrevocably in love with each other, full stop. You didn’t know when you wanted to get married, or where, but you knew that you wanted him by your side for the rest of your personal slice of eternity.

Eventually, that answer stopped being met with aw’s from your friends, and instead had been met with playful eyerolls followed by logistical questions regarding the wedding. It became apparent pretty quickly that there wasn’t a where or when anywhere in your plan, but the who, what, and why were pretty clear. And when it came to wedding planning, the last three took the back burner. Who would have thought?

Weekends cuddled up with your fiancé turned into Friday nights spent researching, Saturday afternoons filled with venue tours, and Sunday mornings comparing notes (and somehow, that was always the part that lasted the longest when it came to you and Spencer).

Once the venue was secured, you both became invested in the rest of the details that made your special day unique to the two of you, settling on a lilac color scheme and Save the Dates in the form of bookmarks. Everything settled into place pretty quickly after that, except for the dreaded cake.

There was just too much to it. Between the design, number of layers, and flavors there statistically wasn’t a high probability of pleasing all of your guests much to Spencer’s dismay. And as much as everyone said that the most important thing was that you and Spencer were happy with the cake, the two of you were more than happy with each other, and that’s all you really cared about.

“Ready, Y/N?” Spencer broke you from your train of thought and drew your attention towards him. He smiled, holding a travel mug of coffee in one hand and your car keys in the other, motioning towards the door with his head.

You nodded, taking the keys and heading towards the door with the love of your life in tow, internally cursing yourself for stressing out half as much as you have about a silly cake.

***

Two hours later, and one thing was for sure- you were right to be stressed. The owner of the bakery was one of the sweetest women you’ve ever met (the title of sweetest belonged to Penelope Garcia, hands down), but as welcoming and supportive as she was you still felt like a fish out of water.

You and Spencer were ushered into a room with exactly twenty-three cake samples laid out on tables, accompanied by open portfolios and photos of some of the bakery’s most renowned creations. In the time since your arrival you’ve tasted flavors ranging from lemon raspberry to mocha chocolate and you were exhausted.

You couldn’t help but feel like the universe was punishing you and Spencer for joking around the previous night about how great it would be to eat cake for lunch. You leaned over to tell Spencer just as much, and the exhaustion was almost worth it when you saw his smile illuminate the entirety of his face.

“What happened to ‘as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad’?” he jokingly questioned, booping your nose and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek when he saw the joking glare beginning to form on your face.

“Changed my mind when you called me a sap,” you retorted with a smirk followed by a quick squeeze of his hand so he knew you weren’t serious. Your comment made him laugh, and soon enough you were both in a fit of giggles surrounded by mountains of cake and half looked through portfolios.

As your laughter died down the reality of the situation you were in began to set it. You loved all of the cake you tried, but everything about what you were doing just didn’t feel right. The more you envisioned your cake, the cloudier the picture became. All you knew was that you wanted something that screamed you and Spence, but none of the flavors you tried did that. You sighed, and Spencer immediately perked up, forever in tune to you and your needs.

“What’s going on up there, love?” Spencer tapped the side of your head lightly with his pointer finger, causing the right side of your lip to slightly curl up.

“If I ask you something will you be honest?” you asked, putting your hand on top of his.

Spencer immediately nodded, grasping his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to his lips. “Always”.

“Do you picture any of these cakes at our wedding?” You questioned, bringing the closest portfolio towards you with your free hand and flipping through the first few pages. “They’re all so pretty, but I just don’t think they’re us, ya know?”

It was quiet for a beat longer than you expected, and for a second you were nervous you had somehow offended Spencer. But when you looked up and met his eyes, all you found was his understanding gaze looking back at you.

“I completely get what you mean,” he began, squeezing your hand before continuing his thought, “but Y/N.. do you really think that we’ll ever find a dessert that’s more us than donuts?”

You knew right away that he was joking, but you also couldn’t help but smile at the flood of memories that overtook you once he said it.

As Penelope liked to call your relationship, “the greatest love story of this generation” began just a block south of the bakery you were at over chocolate sprinkled donuts and coffee. It was a Tuesday morning, and you were running a few minutes late in your morning routine. You usually got to the cafe around 8:15, just before the majority of the 9-5 workforce showed up for their morning coffee fix.

That day though, you had missed your usual metro and walked in the door of the café at 8:27 AM. It was overly crowded, and you were already dreading waiting in the overpopulated line for your coffee, but as luck would have it Dr. Spencer Reid had picked that exact morning to treat the BAU to coffee and donuts.

He had walked in the door behind you, smiling in recognition at the book he saw peeking out of your bag. Before he could stop himself, he tapped you on your shoulder, reciting a fact about the author of the book. Almost immediately, his face dropped, worried that you were going to tell him off for being nosy.

To his relief though, you smiled and asked him for his opinion on the book- before you knew it, you both made it to the front of the line, and you found yourself longing for more time with the stranger who seemed to know an infinite amount of fun facts.

As you both waited for your coffee and donuts, you took a leap of faith and asked Spencer if he’d want to meet up for breakfast the next morning. To your delight he agreed, and the rest was history. After three months of sporadic breakfast dates whenever Spencer wasn’t away on a case (mainly consisting of you trying all of the donuts on the café menu and Spencer sticking to chocolate frosted with sprinkles), he took his own leap of faith and asked you out on a date beyond the comforting walls of the café.

As far as you were concerned, donuts were a fundamental part of your love story, and Spencer was a genius.

You smiled at the memory, turning to Spencer and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. He gave you a lovesick grin in response- “what was that for?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the smartest man I know?”

Immediately, Spencer nodded. “Just last week when I told you how many books have been published by Penguin Random House. You also said it the week before when we were talking about polar bears and I-” your laugh caused him to lose focus, all of his attention instead focused on the way your smile lit up your whole face.

“Okay, okay so I call you a genius a lot- sue me,” you countered, giggling with every word that came out of your mouth. “I think you’re onto something with donuts though”.

“Wait, really? I was just kidding,” the confusion was obvious on Spencer’s face, but it was laced with excitement as well and you knew right then and there that he was as hooked on the idea as you were.

“I know you were, but that doesn’t make it any less genius! It’s just so us. And not only that, but think of all the different flavors we can get! That way everyone has a choice over what dessert they have and we don’t need to stress over finding one most people will like. Oh my gosh babe, and Penelope can definitely help us think of a cute way to set them up! Maybe we can do a cake stand or put them out in a buffet style?” You made eye contact with Spencer, eyes widening as you realized you haven’t even asked for his opinion yet. Softly, you brought your ramble to a close, doubt slowly kicking in, “Unless you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Smiling, Spencer stood from his chair and motioned for you to do the same. Considering the fact that you would do anything he asked you to, you followed suit and he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re the real genius in this relationship, Y/N”. You giggled at that, and Spencer continued, “it’s an amazing idea. And you and I both know Penelope is gonna love that you thought of her to help us put it together. How about we go to the café and see if they’d be able to help us out, hm? Maybe grab some donuts while we’re there too?”

You nodded enthusiastically, before grimacing at the idea of having another sweet, “We’re gonna have a sugar rush for the next week, Spence”.

“Every day with you is a sugar rush, Y/N,” he quipped, trying to hold back his laughter at the disbelieving look on your face.

You chuckled, leaning in for one of many sugary sweet kisses awaiting you that afternoon before playfully retorting, “And you have the audacity to call me the sap in this relationship.”

***

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #ash writes

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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Strawberry Blond

Coops fluff Coops fluff Coops fluff!! I highly recommend listening to Strawberry Blond by Mitski, which was the direct inspiration for this fic! This wasn’t based on an ask, but it’s been in the back of my mind for a little while now. Hope you enjoy!

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“This might be your best idea yet,” Remus mused as they laid next to each other, staring up at the fluffy clouds crossing a robin’s-egg sky. In his periphery, Sirius watched him pick small bits of grass with his free hand. The other of course, was warm in his own.

“Okay, Blondie.”

“Shut up,” Remus laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. “I’m not blond yet.”

“After all this sunshine?” Sirius turned on his side and fluffed the front of his curls over his eyes, making him scrunch his nose up like a cute little bunny. “You are, sweetheart.”

Remus Lupin existed in all shades of tawny gold—tinged with pink on his cheeks and the backs of his arms, deeper across the expanse of his back and chest, and woven with bronze for his soft hair. Sometimes, Sirius woke up in time to watch the sunlight make him glow, and he would count every new color he found.

But after the near-constant summer sunlight due to their broken air conditioning and inability to find a fan that didn’t spontaneously combust, Remus was almost strawberry blond, and it was driving Sirius out of his mind. Remus let his head fall to the side and smiled when they made eye contact, squeezing Sirius’ hand. “Want some water?”

“Don’t get up, I’m comfy.” Sirius stuck his lip out in a pout and Remus snorted, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

The light breeze rippled through the whole field, save for the pressed-down grass where Remus had laid mere moments before. Their shoes were…somewhere. Sirius hoped they had left them near the picnic basket, but his mind was too muzzy with bliss to make an effort to remember.

Remus’ bare ankles were pale against the rolled-up cuffs of his jeans and Sirius took a second to admire his ass when he bent to get their waterbottles—as Remus’ fiancé, it was his court-appointed right to appreciate the familiar curve. That law was definitely written down in some dusty old book.

“Do we actually need buildings?” Sirius asked as Remus settled back down next to him.

To his credit, Remus didn’t miss a beat. “What?”

“In the grand scheme of things, do we need skyscrapers? They’re kind of useless, and they block all this.” He gestured widely with his free arm and took a sip.

“Huh. I’ve never thought about it that way.” Remus cocked his head to the side and looked out over the beach below, his gaze distant as he watched the point where grass turned into sand and pebbles. “I don’t think so. Concrete is ugly, anyway.”

“Maybe people would be happier if they all had low houses and big backyards.”

“Fuck hockey. Become an architect.” Remus looked over at him with a small smile. “You’d be good at that, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’re terrible with paint colors, but shapes—"

“You are so mean to me!” Sirius laughed, bumping him until they both fell over and laid cheek-to-cheek in opposite directions. “Unfortunately, I love it.”

“Yeah, you do. And I love you.” Remus turned his head to kiss Sirius’ cheekbone. This time next year, they would be married—they had an entire life of these moments ahead of them.

“This is everything I need,” he said quietly, watching a cloud shaped like a duck fade into wisps. “Right here. This is it.”

“Pots isn’t here.”

“Hmm.”

“Hattie’s tormenting Reg, who also isn’t here.”

“I have everything I need because no matter where I go, you’re there.”

Remus went still with a soft exhale. “What?”

Sirius shrugged. “We’re apart sometimes, yeah, but you’re always there somewhere. Either I’m wearing your shirt, or your hat, or you left yet another hickey—” Remus laughed at that, and he smiled. “—or I’m thinking about you. That’s what I mean.”

Remus sighed heavily. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“I really have to kiss you, but I’m so comfortable.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, yes I do.” Remus pushed himself onto his elbows, then turned around and threw a thigh over Sirius’ hips, bracketing his face with his forearms. “You’re so beautiful in the sun. What was I saying again?”

Sirius draped his arms over Remus’ shoulders and grinned. “Kiss me stupid, Loops.”

And he did. Not quite lazy—Remus, for all his languid stretching, was never lazy—but steady. Easy. Drawing Sirius close with each press of his lips and stroking the curls just above his ears to smooth them back until Sirius could hardly think straight. Remus had kissed him like that a number of times since they started dating: in the car, in his old apartment, on the kitchen counter while dinner threatened to burn but neither of them could be bothered to check it.

Sirius deepened the kiss as a particular memory rose to the front of his mind. Remus was sitting in the passenger seat of the car with one hand out the window and the other buried in Hattie’s soft fur. She had been smaller the day they drove her home, but still big enough that she oozed over the sides of his legs.

I love her already, Remus had said as he made gentle waves with his palm, riding the wind current of the open road. She’s ours.

Sirius’ chest ached in the best way and he leaned upward a bit, angling his chin to pull Remus’ lower lip between his teeth lightly. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. And this is our forever.

Remus pulled back, his eyes still closed as he smiled and took a slow breath. The afternoon sun lit his hair in a halo and Sirius was struck speechless by the sight; he was barely able to fold his hands over Remus’ and press their foreheads together without melting into a puddle. “That’s better.”

“Uh-huh.”

A bumblebee buzzed past them and they both jumped a bit at the sudden noise before bursting out laughing. Remus bit his lip and beamed down at Sirius, placing one more kiss to his forehead before climbing off and grabbing his hands. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked as they took off running toward the beach, barefoot and sun-warmed and deliriously happy. Remus glanced over his shoulder with a smile; his eyes widened slightly when their feet hit cold, wet sand, but he didn’t slow down until they were ankle-deep in freezing salt water.

Sirius immediately reached into the surf and flung a handful of water at Remus, pulling him close enough to get a direct hit to the chest. “Hey!” Remus yelped, dropping his hand like it burned and flinging his own counterattack at Sirius.

The spray hit him dead in the face and he stumbled backward, nearly falling on his ass in the water as he windmilled for balance. Remus laughed until he was gasping, hands on his knees and making the fatal mistake of taking his eyes off Sirius for a second too long.

The first bit of seaweed stuck to his arm with a satisfying slap; the second missed by a mile as Remus sprinted away, leaving uneven footprints in the sand while Sirius chased him down and tried not to lose any toes to stray barnacles. “Get back here!” he shouted around his smile, feeling the skin of his hands stiffening with salt.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Remus called, running backward for a few steps until Sirius threw another clump of seaweed that just barely missed his shirt.

They ran and ran and ran until their picnic was out of sight, but Sirius didn’t care. A million moments, he thought. We can have a million moments of this.

#sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather #hattie #lumosinlove #picnic #strawberry blond #fanfic #my fic

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athenamgh · 4 years ago

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DON'T FORGET ME - #II

a/n: soo this is part twoo... part threee? Hmmm.. not sure yet..

paring/s: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

summary: two broken hearts need to heal each other.. but will they..

warning/s: tears, angst, fluff (i am not sure....)

word count: 2.8k

Chapter I || Chapter II

Natasha Romanoff MASTERLIST

As you stood in front of a mirror smoothing your palms over the small wrinkles on your dark velvet suit, the only thought that was lingering in your mind was how desperately you wanted to crawl up in a ball in your bed and just stay like that forever. You didn’t want to go to that party.

Of course, you wanted to see your dear friends but the thought of how much it will hurt to see Natasha again was almost unbearable. The one that still was, as you understood from Wanda, just as unhappy as you were and you absolutely hated yourself for that.

Your eyes slowly started to travel up your body, the suit still suited you perfectly, shaping your strong arms and wrapping your torso just in the right way. Your gaze stopped at your neck, if a person had very attentive eyes he could spot two necklaces wrapping your neck. You could feel the material of dog tags coldy gazing at your skin, but the other, smaller necklace, you didn’t feel, you just knew it was there, but you didn’t dare to pull it out from under your shirt and look at it, you didn't have the strength, not yet at least.

You felt your heart race as your eyes slowly moved up your face, first they captured your dry lips and a small knife cut scar just above the right corner of your lip. Your tongue brushed it, feeling the roughness of the wounded skin. Finally your eyes connected in a mirror and you saw how your natural pupil color turned to hungry flaming red, your eyes now gloomy, the normal white conjunctiva turning black.

You clenched your jaw at the sight. And you heard a whisper, too familiar whisper: “This is exactly why you could never have her.”. You clenched your fist so tightly that made your knuckles turn white at the words. “You are weak” the voice screamed inside your head and you punched the mirror. It broke, the pieces fell to the ground and your knuckles now covered the blood because of the little cuts. You cursed to yourself remembering that you spent hours picking this mirror and now you will need to order another one again.

---

You already spent around an hour at Tony's party. And you were surprised at how you were still standing here and didn’t leave in the first thirty minutes, because the music was too loud for your enjoyment and people too unrecognizable. You made small talk with almost everyone you knew and now there standing next to the window, your right hand occupied with the glass full of liquid, the other one resting in your pants pocket.. Damn, you missed this view, you could oversee the whole night city from here. People, cars, animals, the smallest lights, streets and buildings, it all were at your feet.

“Unforgettable feeling, huh?” you didn’t even need to turn your head, to know who exactly was standing beside you.

“As you say old man..” you said chuckling, glancing to the side where Tony stood.

He embraced your shoulders with his left arm, “Ahh, that is exactly what I was missing this past year.” You looked at him with a bit surprised expression, arching your eyebrow at him, Tony never was a guy to share too much of his inner feelings. “What?” he asked. You threw your hands up in defence shaking your head. “Those suckers need you” he points over his shoulder, making you turn around and look at Wanda, Steve, Thor and others talking. “Also, I could use your brains for my new project.”

“Do you?” you said playfully not looking back at him. Your eyes wandered through the crowded room, desperately searching for a certain someone, you haven’t seen yet.

Tony definitely noticed it. “It’s still Natasha, isn’t it?” he said quietly. You clench your hand tighter around the glass, taking a swing of the drink.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as hard as you could just to relax it again. Taking a deep breath you answered “It’s always been her,” You chuckled “I am pretty sure it’s always going to be her.”

“Then, why did you leave?” Tony asked with a serious tone, his straightforwardness made you take a few steps back .

“You know why I left..” you turned to face him, a tired look on your face. You already did this ritual with Steve months ago, you didn’t want to do this again. “I am dangerous!” you said wanting to wrap this up already, but you could see an ignorant expression appear on Tony’s face, he was not satisfied with your answer. “What do you want me to say?”

“What about, something that is not total bullshit?” he said with a dumb smile.

You sighted in frustration looking around the room “I could never give her a happy, normal life for a long run.. never..”

Tony placed his hand on your shoulder, making you look him in the eyes again, “Maybe, you should have let her decide what is her definition of a normal life.. Cuz kiddo, none of us here'' he pointed to other avengers ''are living a normal life and never will.” You looked down at your boots, you knew this all too well, this horrible thought bothered you all the time. Maybe you made a mistake, maybe you rushed, maybe you needed.. well, now it was too late, you screwed up and badly.

You finally look up at him, changing the topic “So, you said you have a project for me?” this yearned a smile from Tony.

“Right this way, kid” he said, chuckling. As you passed others from the corner of your eyes you saw Tony give a small thumbs up to Steve, but you brushed it away.

---

Your eyebrows narrowed and eyes carefully running through the prototype Tony has been working on for the past few months now. It was a confusing and complicated mechanism, but it looked cool and had a bunch of advanced and very beneficial functions to fight off any alarming threats. “Why haven't you connected the A site area to G one, to decrease the speed in case of an overload?” you said pointing to the red area with big letter A.

Tony looks down at the scheme and rubs his palms, “Ahh, you right. How could I have missed that!?” he said, connecting the dots.

“Cuz you old..” you said, chuckling and getting a light punch to your shoulder. You couldn’t lie to yourself as much as you were trying to convince yourself that you didn't miss all of this: helping out Tony, teaching new recruits with Steve, testing Wanda's abilities.. training with Natasha and cuddl... ahh you did miss it.. and a lot actually. The memories of staying up late just to find yourself waking up on top of the table to the smell of Wanda’s pancakes and soft Natasha's touches..

“Tony? Steve said you needed me?” your thoughts interrupted a person whose voice you could have recognized anywhere in the world, no matter how loud or quiet how big or small the place was.. you just in an instance. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up and saw no other but Natasha Romanoff herself. Your jaw dropped as you saw her red curly hair falling perfectly down her shoulder, her black dress hugging her figure just in the right places. She looked stunning. You swore she was one of the most beautiful people that have ever walked this earth.

As she saw you she freezed in her steps, her lips escaped a gasp, “Y/n..”.

“Natasha..” you said almost immediately. You looked at each other frozen, forgetting everyone around. After, what it looked like was a whole minute, you heard Tony shift besides you. And suddenly, you realized the whole signal to Steve and this secret twisted plan. You turned to Tony with narrowed eyes “You didn’t need my help, did you?”

Tony cleared his throat “I’d say no, cuz I am a genius playboy millionaire, but you actually did help to improve the prototype. So that was unexpected.” he said smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him.

“No..” you heard the whisper slip through Natasha's lips, you quickly turned to look at her. She shook her head if your eyes weren’t so perceptive you wouldn't have noticed how her eyes watered, she turned around and stormed out of the room.

You glanced at Tony for a second and he mouthed at you ‘GO!’ you took off and started running towards Romanoff.

---

You were about to knock on Natasha's room door but you heard a sob in the opposite direction. You knew exactly who's room it was.. or used to be. You turned around facing the opposite room door, on it was still engraved your name.

Your lips split a gasp as you opened a door and found your room untouched. The bed, the table, hanging photographs, your favorite painting of the Avengers 'squad' , damn you were and still are such a nerd, shelves full of books, all the stuff you forgot to pick up from the compound was still left untouched.

You saw Natasha sitting at the other side of the bed, her back to the entrance. It was quite now, you couldn't hear even the smallest or quietest wail…

''Na- '' you started but she quickly cut you off.

''You know, people knock..'' she said with a serious tone. Her voice was firm, you couldn't hear any cracks in it.

''Technically it's still my room, you know..'' you said playfully.. wishing to ease up the gloomy atmosphere surrounding both of you. But she seemed to ignore your statement..

After a few seconds of silence you spoke up again, with a light voice ''Nat''.

''No'' she quickly said standing up. ''I can't do this..'' she said still facing the wall, her arms now hugging her torso tightly.

''Please, Nat, listen to me'' you were ready to beg for her to just listen to what you had to say.. just listen, that was all you wished for.

''Why, y/n?'' she finally turned around and for the first time in months you really looked into her forest green eyes. They were cold and puffed from tears, her face pale, lips tight and nose a bit running. You noticed that she was also analyzing your face and expressions. ''Tell me why should I listen to you? Why after all this time you decided to explain yourself?'' she was hurt… so hurt.. and damn you hated yourself for that..

“Sometimes… sometimes I just want to rip out my heart and give it to you. Because, I can’t. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t hold this pain in my heart. Because I can’t close my eyes without dreaming of you. I can’t walk anywhere without seeing you. I can’t do anything without you.. y/n''

These words struck you like lightning, your heart clenched in your chest, your eyes watering and vision becoming blurry. You clenched your jaw, looking down. Natasha never was the one to talk about her feelings so freely, but from her eyes you saw that she had enough, she needed to express everything she was feeling, all the pain. But all your lips could spread was only her name "Nat.."

''What? You left me y/n!'' This agonizing scream made you look back at Natasha, her eyes filling up with painful tears. ''You promised that you'll never leave.. and you did..'' she said, her voice cracking. She was right.. Natasha, this amazing woman, who gave you her heart and you crushed it.. and why? Because of your own fears and demons? For being afraid to lose control and put her in danger, for being afraid of losing her because of your selfish acts? ''And the worst thing is that all I can think of..'' she continued, brushing the tear running down her cheek. ''Is that it is all my fault..''

''No no no..'' words quickly spilled through your lips as you took a few steps forwards to be just a little bit closer to Natasha, but she left standing frozen in her place. ''Nat.. it's not your fault.. it never was..'' you said with so much assurance in your eyes.

''Then why?'' Natasha now took a few steps towards you, leaving the two of you a hand stretch apart.

At her question your hands started to shake a little, you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. Your right hand brushing through your hair and stopping at your neck, eyes turned away, intensely staring at the floor. Somewhere deep down in the back of your mind you could hear that awful whisper, cruely reminding you 'you're not worthy of her.. have you forgotten who you are..'

Natasha noticed your body reaction, she grabbed you by your forearms, bringing you a little bit closer to her. Even from such a distance you already could feel the warmth radiating from her, her scent already invading your lungs, oh how much you missed this, even if small, but closeness to her.

''What's wrong y/n'' she asked you, her voice now softer and you could hear a hint of worry in it too.

''I.. '' you stuttered. ''I am so sorry Nat, I didn't want to hurt you.. I.. ha- hate'' your words getting caught in your throat because of upcoming tears ''I hate myself for how much pain I caused you.. I am sooo sorry'' your hands began to shake even more intensively, your eyes shut even tighter.

Natasha brought her hands to your face, cupping your cheeks. ''Y/n look at me'' you shook your head, you couldn't let her see you like this. ''Please..'' she said so warmly and quietly, her warm thumb brushing your cheek with staining tears that you thought you had dried months ago, asking you to look up at her.

Your arms eased up, you took another deep breath, straightened up. You opened your eyes looking at her. You saw how mixed emotions ran through Natasha's face as she for the first time saw your reddish beast's eyes, her hands clenched tighter around your face in surprise. ''I am cursed Nat..'' your eyes watered again, you were ready for her to push you away, but you were confused as to why she was still here, still holding your face so dearly, like her life dependent on it.

''I left because I couldn't let you love somebody who everyday puts you in so much danger.. I couldn't let you love somebody who is forever cursed… you do not deserve it Natasha.. you deserve someone so much better… someone who can actually make you happy.'' a few tears more ran through your cheek, you felt how her thumbs brushed them just beneath your eyelids, she didn't seem to be disgusted or scared of you.

Suddenly she looked deep into your eyes. Those two green orbs staring right back at you, your heart skipped a beat as you realized those eyes still had that unconditional love in them that you missed so much. ''I loved you Nat.. I love you Natasha Romanoff, but I am afraid I do not deserve to have your heart..'' at these last words you felt how Natasha's hands slipped further and wrapped around your neck, bringing you two closer and connecting your lips into such a longing kiss. You secured your arm around her waist at the touch of your lips in an instance, smashing your bodies even closer together. She tasted so sweet and comforting and everything that you missed about her.

You finally separated your lips because you were in need of such mundane thing as oxygen. Taking a deep breath Natasha spoke up ''There is no one more deserving than you y/n..'' she said, brushing the loose strand of hair from your face. ''I do not need a normal life.. hell nothing about my life is normal.. it never was'' she said looking back to your eyes, with light surprise. You could feel that your eyes were back at her natural color shape again.

''And this?'' you gestured to your eye level. Her thumb ghosted just below your right eyelid and then brushed the slim finger lightly against your bottom lip.

She smiled ''I don't care y/n..'' she looked deep into your eyes.. ''I just want you''.

You could feel your eyes sparkle, heart beating like crazy. You took her right hand and brought it to your lips, kissing it lightly, you forgot how indeed soft they were. ''Will you forgive me?'' you asked with so much hope.

''Yes..'' she said with such a light voice and bright smile on her face. You couldn't suppress your happiness anymore. You picked her up and spinned around. As you placed her on the ground you kissed her again. More passionately this time, putting every single drop of love and affection and everything that you were feeling towards her.. so she would know it. Without any doubts.

Natasha broke the kiss away gasping for air. ''Woah, calm down tiger!'' she said with a smile ''We have a lot to catch up'' she said with a smirk spreading across her face, making you arch your eyebrow at her seductively.

#natasha x y/n #natasha #nat #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widdow #black widow fic #black widow x reader #reader #natasha x reader #story #avengers #avengers x reader #the avengers #avenger fanfiction

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therenlover · 4 years ago

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In Sickness And In Health (An 18+ James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

This is 18+ content! If you are a minor, this work is not for you !!!

This fic is a sequel to my oneshot Heartsick, but it can be read as a standalone oneshot!

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Tags: Smut with Plot, Weddings, Fluff, Ghost Smut, Cunnilingus, Sick!Reader, Obnoxious Titanic Knowledge

Rating: E, 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Major Character Death, Romanticization of Death, Murder, Unsafe Sex (it’s with a ghost, but just to be safe...), Mentions Of The Reader Having A Long Term Debilitating Illness

Word Count: 5500~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3 under the same title

-------

“How are you feeling, my darling?”

James’s voice was soft as he entered your suite, slipping off his shoes before joining you on the bed. He smelled like antiseptic, hair and hands still damp from a recent wash. Underneath, though, was the sharp, coppery tang of blood.

You stretched as you answered, weak muscles shuddering with effort. “It’s a good day. Not great, I still feel like absolute shit, but I don’t feel like I’m actively dying anymore,”

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement,”

Your fiancé offered you a rare, genuine grin. Seeing him smile made the lie worth it.

In truth, you still felt truly terrible.

It had been almost three weeks since Mr. March had proposed, and true to his word he had been glued to your side helping you recover ever since. He helped you bathe, fed you meals, gave you medication, kept you entertained; days with him were filled with small, simple pleasures. You had never experienced anything like that attention before. Unfortunately, though, the time spent with James only seemed to help your mind, and not your body.

After close to two months of bed rest, your muscles were weak. It still took significant effort to do simple tasks like walking to the bathroom or using cutlery. Some days were better than others, but everything generally tended to end up as part of the indistinguishable haze of pain that clouded your memories lately. If nothing else, at least the fevers were less extreme.

The only light at the end of the tunnel was your wedding. It was still two weeks away, (“That’s plenty of time for you to recover fully, my dearest,” James had insisted) but once you were married that meant you could die. Oh, what a happy day that would be. There would be no more sickness, no more achy muscles, not another day of forced bed rest, just peace and quiet and plenty of sex. God, how you missed the sex…

Every day was another day closer to your peaceful end, and yet they seemed to stretch endlessly. Deep down, you worried that you might not even make it long enough to walk down the aisle alive. You shuddered at the thought. If James ended up having to carry you down the aisle you might just die of embarrassment before he had the chance to kill you.

“I can’t believe you killed someone without me,” You huffed, reaching out your shaking arms and inviting James to lay with you. He happily obliged.

“Would you have preferred me to let him live?” James pulled your torso gently onto his chest, letting you rest against him.

“No, but you could have at least let me watch. I’ve been stuck in here for weeks, James. I get bored,”

He ran a hand through your hair. “Perhaps next time darling, but hopefully, you will be well enough to join me before our next victim walks through the door,”

“Who was it this time?”

“A florist. Liz invited him to bring over a few samples before hiring him to do arrangements for the wedding, but they were atrocious. You should have seen them, my love, they were simply grotesque, not to mention that the color schemes didn’t even slightly match the carpets in the entrance hall. Who puts pink and yellow tulips in a wedding arrangement at a hall filled with reds and oranges?”

You gave a soft hum. “Were they all really that bad?”

“Well… perhaps I was a bit harsh, but can you truly blame me? I want our wedding day to be perfect. There shouldn’t be a single flower or ribbon out of place,” He emphasized his question by gently squeezing you to his chest.

“Is it really that important?”

James went still. “What do you mean by that, dearest?”

A sigh pushed through your lips, your chest aching from the effort. “I just don’t understand why we have to wait for this perfect wedding when we could just get married now. I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy a big ceremony, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I’m just so tired James. Why does it matter if we say our vows in front of other people? There’s not gonna be anything legally or religiously binding between us anyway. Getting married to you, in my mind, is just promising to be by your side forever, so why does anything else matter besides you and me?”

Looking up, you noticed that Mr. March seemed to be deep in thought, lips pressed into a line as his thin eyebrows furrowed together. Your heart sank. Did a wedding ceremony really mean that much to him? In an instant guilt began to flood your stomach. You were really ruining a special moment in his life to die faster? Hell, did he even really want you to die? He had always relished in your warmth, enthralled by the thudding of your weak, living heart. Of course, he would hate you for rushing into marriage just to throw your life away. Or maybe he was stalling because it would be too much for him to kill you himself…

“James-” you placated, lifting a hand to his face, but he quickly snapped out of his thoughtful haze.

He gazed down at you with love in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips. “You’re right! We shall be married this afternoon!”

A jolt of shock ran down your spine.

“What?”

“As you said, our wedding is a binding of souls, my darling! Our love is sacred, withstanding time and mortality, so who are we to bend to the rules of the common man? If an intimate ceremony for two is what you desire, I shall not deny you,” In one smooth motion, James rolled on top of you, arms boxing you in as he loomed above. He looked absolutely unhinged, eyes glinting wildly in the yellow lamplight.

You knew then that there would never be anyone else. No one could compare to James, your James. He would devour you whole and you would thank him all the while. With a sudden burst of energy, you reached up and pulled him into a scorching kiss.

It was sloppy, all battling tongues and clashing teeth, nothing like the soft pressing of lips that you had been sharing lately. How had you gone almost two months without this? Your heart felt like it was about to burst right out of your chest. As James bit down hard on your lower lip, you pulled fistfuls of his pinstripe suit into your hands.

After a few more seconds of desperate, breathless kissing James pulled away. You panted for air below him. “Why’d you stop?”

To your dismay, he climbed off of you. His hard-on was fully visible through his thin dress pants as he stood. “As much as I would love to ravage you now, dearest, I believe we have vows to exchange,”

“Can’t we just do them in bed? I want you now,”

He chuckled at your whining. “I may be willing to compromise on many things, but this is not one of them,”

“Please, Mr. March,” Your words were loaded, innocent doe eyes boring into his very soul, “for me?”

You could tell it was a difficult decision, but James stood strong. “I can’t say you haven’t thoroughly tempted me, but I’m afraid not darling,” he said firmly, “Forgive me?”

With a sigh, you nodded. “Of course,”

The instant you gave in, he beamed. “Splendid! Now, it’s a shame that we don’t have your dress, but I believe I have given you several gowns that would serve nicely,”

“You’re not gonna let me get married in my pajamas?”

“Would you prefer that to wearing a dress?”

The genuine concern in James’ voice was enough to make you fold. The things his voice did to you….

“Darling,” you groaned, fighting your weak muscles as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “look in the closet. There should be a black zip-up garment bag in there,”

He quirked up an eyebrow.

“Just do it,”

“As my bride commands,” James rushed to the closet, thumbing through gowns. By the time he found it you were on your feet, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “This one, darling?” he asked, pulling it from the rack.

You grinned. “That’s the one. Open it up for me?”

James undid the zip quickly. Once he saw the contents, he gaped. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding,”

Slowly, you made your way to James and hugged him from behind. “Well, it’s a good thing the wedding is happening now... can you help me get the dress on?”

He happily obliged.

In less than 15 minutes you were laced into your wedding dress and sitting at your vanity. James was by the phonograph looking at records while you finished pinning up your hair. It was finally time.

“What would you like me to play, darling? We don’t have the wedding march, but there are some decent options. Let’s see… The Swan? You always have loved Saint-Saëns. Or perhaps Songe d’Automne?” James asked. He had been strangely lenient; bending to your will on the wedding, letting you pick the music, allowing you to tease him with no repercussions. You shrugged it off.

“You would really play the song that played as the Titanic sank at our wedding?”

“I find it strangely fitting,”

With a soft laugh, you put the last pin in place and turned to your groom. “And so it is. I’ll compromise. We have Mon Coeur S’Ouvre A Ta Voix, don’t we? You’ll get your morbidity while I get my romance,”

“That sounds delightful, my dear. Good choice,”

James found the correct record and set it on the phonograph, placing the needle and cranking the arm with a well-practiced hand. Then, as the music began to play, he stood. It was like he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every detail of you as he approached. He offered you his hands. “Shall we begin, my darling?”

You joined him in the center of the room without hesitation, taking his offering with a smile, “I think we shall,”

“I admit,” James said, voice sweet and low, “that I am well out of my depth here, but before we begin may I say that you, as you are now, are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you?”

Your face flushed. “What’s gotten into you, James? Are you getting soft on me?”

“We can only hope not, I have a reputation to uphold you know! I just can’t help but think…” his sentence drifted off as his gaze fell on yours, “I am a hard man, one of custom and habit. My life has been filled with monotony for as long as I have lived. Even killing has become commonplace for me. Things do not phase me the same way they phase you, darling, in all of your softness and perfection. I wonder if this is what will truly make you happy,”

“James!” you dropped his hands in order to cup his face, “I love you. I want to be with you. What would make you think I’m unhappy here?”

He covered your small fingers with his own, voice wistful. “I love you too, Y/N. Don’t misunderstand me, this wedding brings me more joy than you know. I simply wish to say that you will only get married once and I want it to be exactly to your liking. I have been engaged thrice and married once before, all of the pomp and circumstance is old news to me. For you, though, in all your youth…”

In a rare moment of openness, James bared himself to you. It was only right for you to do the same.

“I have never been more sure of myself than in this moment,” you whispered, leaning to let your forehead rest against his, “You are enough. I don’t need guests, or flower arrangements, or a cake to know I love you and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side. You’re right, I’m young and I’ve made a lot of dumb choices in my life, but loving you isn’t one of them. Take me, James, make me yours. This is where I belong”

As you spoke, you felt him relax against you.

“Well, you’ve certainly convinced me,” he murmured before pulling back and bringing your hands to his still, unbeating heart, “now, on with the show… my queen, the woman who has tamed my heart, you are the only one of your kind. No one else could move me the way you do. The moment I saw you walk into my hotel I knew that you would be mine, but I had no clue of the things you would do to my heart. You have changed me, mind, body, and soul. I can only hope that I’ve changed you in similar ways,”

While he was speaking, it suddenly hit you that this was it. Usually, brides had months of build-up to their weddings, filled with cake tastings and dress fittings and family and friends. You, though, had had only a few weeks to prepare, most of which were spent on strict bedrest while James took care of the planning. Even then, you had disregarded the plans. Tears of joy began to roll down your cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right in your whole life.

“Oh darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just so happy!”

“And you shall continue to be happy. As long as you remain by my side, you will want for nothing! I shall be with you in sickness and in health, through life and through death,” Suddenly, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “You, Y/N, have captivated me. I wish to never be without you again,”

“You never will be,”

James smiled, squeezing your hands. In an instant, you realized it was your turn. You hadn’t given much thought as to what you would say, but as you gazed into his dark, hopeful, hungry eyes the words came to you as clear as day.

“James Patrick March,” you said, “I have never met anyone quite like you. When I first saw you, I had nothing. I was destitute. The Hotel Cortez was my last hope in life, but then, I spoke to you in the Blue Parrot Lounge and I suddenly knew exactly what my purpose in life was. Somehow, someway, I realized that I had been made to find you. You’ve given me so much, James. You showed me that life was worth living. I can’t think of a future for me that doesn’t include you. From this moment on, once I’m finally Mrs. March, we can finally be what we were made to be… one heart, one mind, one soul. I’ll never let you go. Marry me, James? Stay here with me until the world ceases to turn?”

“I will, darling. I do,” while he spoke, he reached into his pocket. “I had hoped that this ring would be sitting on your finger sooner. It belongs to the woman of the house, the holder of my heart… you, my dearest Mrs. March. Please say you love me, and that you’ll stay with me until nothing of this world remains?

You responded with a grin. “I love you, James… I do,”

Slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger. It was the first time you’d actually seen it up close, and it was more stunning than you remembered. A large, square-cut diamond sat on a bed of smaller rubies, and it was all held together by a delicate silver band that fit your finger perfectly. The red stones were a new addition. Had James had the ring altered just for you? You were about to ask when you caught his gaze.

“May I kiss the bride now, my darling?”

Instead of responding, you surged up and kissed him yourself. It was like none of the kisses you had ever shared before.

There was a passion to it, but it wasn’t desperate. It was more of a low, roiling thing, a time-bomb ticking down to explode. In seconds James’ cool hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer and messing up the pinned curls you had put in earlier. You found you didn’t quite care.

Your limbs were beginning to feel weak as you ran out of air, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your long-forgotten illness or if it was just the power James held over you. Part of you didn’t care anymore. As you pulled back for air, your husband reached around to the lacing at the back of your dress and began to pull at it, earning a few giggles as he loosened it enough that it fell from your body, leaving you almost bare in front of him.

“How I’ve craved you, my lovely wife,” he growled, palming your breasts through your bra, “it’s been far too long,”

His touch felt electric against your thin, soft skin. “Please, Mr. March, more,” You pressed yourself against your husband, feeling how your words affected him. He was rock hard. Something about that satisfied an ache in your heart. Even with you sick and weak, he needed you as much as you needed him.

In a swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently before settling himself between your legs. You whimpered as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. He was an expert with his tongue, licking and sucking the skin like a man starved. It felt delightful, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel elsewhere.

As if he could read your mind, James grinned.

“All in good time, you little minx,”

Ever impatient, you fisted a hand into his hair in an attempt to get him to move lower. He stayed put.

“Does my lovely wife want something from me?”

You groaned as he wrapped his teeth around your bra strap and tugged before letting go, the elastic snapping against your already sweat-slick skin. “James, please,”

“Ah, ah, ah! Use your words, dearest. What do you want?”

His tutting made you flush from your cheeks to your chest. There was only one way to get what you wanted, and you knew exactly how to do it. With as much innocence as you could muster in your debauched state, you whispered, “Please sir, will you eat my pussy?”

James couldn’t hold back as he snapped his hips against the sheets. “That’s it darling! How could I say no to such a polite request?”

You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. In a blink, your husband was undoing your bra and pulling it off, working his sinful mouth down to your breasts. His teeth grazed your nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat as your back arched, pushing you up towards his touch. It was like your body was a live wire. Every nerve was alive, buzzing at the slightest touch. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Thankfully, he was quick to move once again. He left a trail of gentle, sloppy kisses down your ribs and stomach before arriving at his desired destination. His hot breath against your soaked panties fanned the flames of arousal building within you. Once again, you whined.

Your husband had always loved eating you out. He never seemed happier than when he was buried between your thighs with his tongue buried between your folds, and once again he was faced with his favorite activity. The hungry look in his eye told you that he wanted it as much as you did.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to remove your garter in front of the hotel. I would have so enjoyed showing them all just how lucky of a man I am. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise though… I do hate to share” he murmured, pressing a few torturous kisses to the hot skin of your inner thighs as he skimmed your panties with his fingers, “I suppose these will have to do,” Then, in a sudden movement, he was dragging them down your legs by the lace with his teeth. Once they were removed, he tossed them aside to be collected later. The way he looked at your wetness was reverent. It only made you wetter.

“What do we have here,” he muttered, letting the tip of his nose just barely brush your core, “what could possibly be making you this wet, my darling?”

His taunting was, surprisingly, less severe than usual. On any normal day, it would have taken a good 10 minutes for him to be anywhere near your heat, but you could tell he was obliging your whims as a treat. It was a special occasion, after all.

“You,” you groaned lowly as his breath ghosted over your pussy.

“That’s right, my dear heart, me,”

In an instant James had buried himself in your lower lips, suckling your clit with vigor as your hips bucked to meet him. For once, he let you chase your pleasure with reckless abandon. It had been months since your last proper orgasm, so you were extra sensitive as he licked long stripes up your slit. Soon enough you were keening as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

“James- James, please!” you shouted as he finally worked a finger into your tight, wet hole, his tongue lazily circling your clit as he gazed into your eyes across the planes of your body.

He pulled off momentarily, making you groan. “Please what, dearest?”

“I wanna cum! Please- OH!”

His lips were back on your clit instantly, his eyes smiling as he pumped in and out of you with his fingers and sucked with reckless abandon. Every muscle in your body felt poised for action, your hands gripping James’ hair at the roots with enough force that you were surprised it was still attached to his head. You tipped over the edge into pleasure the second he curled his fingers upwards, roughly pressing into your sweet spot as he hummed, his voice vibrating against you in the most heavenly way.

Your orgasm was like a wave of pure bliss rolling over you as James pleasured you through it, milking you for everything you had. Only once you stopped convulsing did he remove his mouth. Even then, he continued to fuck you gently with his fingers. “Did that feel good, my love?” he asked, rubbing circles into your still-shaking thigh with his free hand.

“Yes, James! Your mouth is perfect,” you whimpered.

He seemed to enjoy your answer because he slowly pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy before climbing up your body and rewarding you with a passionate kiss. You enjoyed it thoroughly but suddenly became aware that he was still fully dressed. “James,” you whined against his lips, “you’re wearing far too many clothes,”

He tasted like tobacco and absinthe as he kissed you again, guiding your hands to the buttons on his suit jacket before tugging at his cravat. “Perhaps we should remedy that, darling?”

You were quick to undo each button before ripping the jacket from his body and tossing it on the ground. His dress shirt and cravat were quick to follow. He focused on undoing his pants while you relished in his bare chest, running your hands down the firm planes of flesh. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whispered, biting down gently on his collarbone.

“No need to call me God, dearest,” he chuckled, shoving down his pants and boxers to free his leaking cock, “though I don’t oppose to it,”

He was a big man, long and thick enough that fitting all of him in was just slightly painful but more than enough to make you feel deliciously full. You drooled as you reached between your torsos to stroke him, but surprisingly James caught your wrist before you could touch him.

“I appreciate you taking my pleasure into consideration, my love, but I won’t last long as it is,” he crooned, holding your wrist to the bed with one hand as he lined himself up against your dripping heat with the other. He ran the head of his cock against your folds a few times, gathering up your wetness in the hopes that it would ease the stretch when he finally pushed in. To you, though, it was just torture, and how James did love to torture his victims.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. March,” you groaned, “I need you! It’s been so long,”

“Such a good little minx,” his voice rolled low as he smiled down at you, “using your words just like I taught you. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” Then, as he locked his hungry eyes with yours, he pushed fully into your heat.

You cried out in ecstasy the second he filled you up, your head lolling back against the headboard as he rocked in and out, letting you ride out the initial pain as he warmed you up for the main event. It wasn’t long before the sting was gone. It was replaced with a dull ache, but that was mostly overshadowed by a sweet, building fire spreading through your abdomen again as James pounded into you with reckless abandon.

Every muscle in your body felt weak, loose and slack as your husband found that spot inside you. Each thrust was a shock through your overstimulated body. It was like you were toeing the line between pain and pleasure, always an instant from falling fully into one or the other. When James picked up his speed once again, you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Mr. March!” you wailed, body jolting as he released your wrist and instead used his hand to steady your thigh and hold you wide open, “ Mr. March! Oh god, please let me cum!”

Surprisingly, despite the fact that he was dead, James seemed almost as breathless as you while he purred into your ear. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Let the pleasure take you. Cum for me, Mrs. March,”

With one last sharp stroke from James, you wailed and let your orgasm overtake you. This time, though, it wasn’t a wave. Instead, it hit you directly like a ton of bricks. The feeling was heady, a high derived from the shockwaves of pleasure mixing with the sweet pain James always provided when he lost control. Distantly, you could feel your thighs covered in your wet essence as your husband gripped them and drove himself into you ceaselessly, quickly reaching his own climax.

Maybe it was that you hadn’t been satisfied so thoroughly since before you were sick, but you felt absolutely exhausted as the last remains of your release drained from your body. Perhaps you had gone too far with the enthusiasm after being on bed rest for so long… Something deep inside you felt whole, like a piece of you that had been missing all your life had finally slotted into place. You fell into a dreamless sleep as that satisfaction resonated through your thoroughly fucked-out body.

When you woke, you almost felt disconnected from time. It was like waking up from an unexpected nap that went on longer than you had intended it to. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the familiar ache in your lungs and muscles that had been your constant companion was gone, replaced with a cool, tingling numbness. You chuckled a bit to yourself. Had sex been the answer to your problems all along?

Slowly, you rolled onto your side, stretching out your arms and legs before curling up in the sheets. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Unfortunately, your plans for rest were foiled as you felt the bed dip beside you.

“How do you feel, my darling?” James asked. His voice was soft. If you didn’t know him better you would have thought he sounded frightened.

You smiled, letting your eyes flutter open as you took in his face. “Surprisingly, I feel great. I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time,”

James smiled back at you, his brown eyes glimmering with some distant emotion. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting the road to recovery,”

There was something strange about your husband, you noticed as you sat up, looking around. You definitely weren’t in your own bedroom anymore. Instead, you were tucked nicely into a four-poster bed with soft, red sheets, surrounded by dark wood and art deco accents. Distantly, you touched your chest and registered that you were wearing one of James’ shirts.

“You brought me to your room?” You propped yourself up on his headboard as you took in your new surroundings, watching the golden evening sun filter in through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains.

“Our room, my sweetling,” James corrected.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I like it. I know I’ve technically been here, with Devil’s Night and our little trysts and all, but I’ve never slept in your bed before. It’s soft… nice,”

He offered you a tinny false smile, his hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bedspread. “I’m glad you think so, dearest. What’s mine is now yours,”

Distantly, you smelled the faintest traces of the antiseptic soap James used to rid himself of blood. You raised an eyebrow. “How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Evers to turn down your sheets while you rested,”

“You had time for a kill in just a few hours?”

“Y/N, I-”

As he spoke, you reached out to touch his fidgeting hand only to yank your fingers back to your chest. No… this was wrong.

“Y/N, please, stay calm-”

“Why are you warm?” You asked, breathing heavily, “James? Why are you warm?”

James steadied himself with a deep breath before reaching over to rub gentle circles into your thigh above the blanket.

“I… I may have taken the liberties of… Y/N, please understand that I only did what I must. You were wasting away! And a promise is a promise…. What I’m trying to say is-”

“You killed me?”

“Precisely,”

Your husband bit down on his lip, averting his gaze in the hopes of avoiding your wrath. To his surprise, though, you threw yourself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses as you laughed joyously. You were free! Free from pain and sorrow and th e endless trappings of mortality. And James was the one to free you.

“You brilliant man!” you shouted, excited giggles escaping from your lips as you squeezed his frozen body to your own, “I didn’t even notice! Oh my god, and on our wedding night too? That’s so romantic! How did you do it? Did I have a heart attack and die from the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my whole damn life? Well… existence. I’m not quite alive anymore, am I? What did you use? Did you send me down the body chute?”

As you babbled, James slowly began to function again. You truly were his perfect match. “I slit your femoral artery just as all your muscles began to contract,” he explained, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek, “and I came to my own climax as you showered me in your blood. You didn’t feel a thing,”

You happily settled yourself against James’ chest. “You’re right. If anything, it felt kinda good…” you paused, “What about my body?”

He grinned. “You’re dead now, darling, we can revisit killing you during your little deaths at any time you like. As for your body, I didn’t put you down the chute. I cleaned you up, retrieved your ring, and took you to your casket. It’ll be bricked up in a wall within the week,”

“Aw, James, you had a casket ready for me and everything!”

“I commissioned it the day we first met. After we slept together and I led you to your suite, I went right to Liz and had her make an order. I spared no expense. Dark wood, red velvet lining…”

“Mmm,” you hummed, “It’s a shame we’ll never get to christen it… unless…”

“Darling, you cannot truly be thinking what I presume you are thinking,”

You giggled, pushing James flat onto the bed. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go fuck over my dead body?”

James Patrick March had never gotten hard quicker in all his 126 years of existence.

-------

a/n: Welp! That’s the first smut I have ever written in my entire life. I hope it wasn’t terrible! This oneshot was great practice for a future instillation of Till Forever Falls Apart, so look forward to that lol. Let me know if you liked this and what types of oneshots you’d like to see next! Also, I love comments, so feel free to comment if you feel so inclined.

Please do not upload my works to other sites, thank you!

#james patrick march #james march #james march x reader #james patrick march x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #ahs #ahs hotel #smut #ahs smut #fanfic

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Text

first love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: You never forget your first love.

author’s notes: This is what prompted the many angst fics to come in my repertoire. I’ll just to slowly transfer some of my one-shots that are reader inserts here on tumblr.

twenty one pilot’s cover of ‘can’t help falling in love’ really helped me in the writing of this fic. It’s a favorite of mine I keep going back to when writing fics. Reader is a musician, who plays the ukulele and violin and at the time when I wrote this (back in 2017), I was learning to play the uke, mostly for fun.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

Wise men say, only fools rush in

But I can't help, falling in love with you

They moved to Tokyo when she was 8.

And at a young age, she was pretty much a timid and shy girl, always hiding behind her parents whenever in the presence of new people, especially when she was being introduced. She wasn't very good with socializing, always wary and scared that she'd make a horrible impression. And of people, in general. People were generally scary, especially those she was unfamiliar with. She found solace in music, due to her father's influence, who was a music instructor at a university. "When words fail, music speaks." He'd tell her as they played 'Heart and Soul' together on the piano, her mother taking a video of them from the side. And a little while later, by some miracle, she made friends with the local kids – Tetsurou and Kenma. The two were an odd pair, given Tetsurou's loud and mischievous demeanor being a total contrast to Kenma's quiet and well-behaved and aloofness. Still, they were the best friends she could ever have.

Years passed, and the three were inseparable.

Over time, the two proved to be more trouble than they were worth – Tetsurou, with his never-ending schemes and provocation abilities, and Kenma, with his indifference to the world so long as he was playing his games.

Nothing's changed much of her, other than her ability to keep the dynamic duo grounded. Also, she had her flair for music. Still, she was terribly shy. Though she has a voice, she chose to stick to the background, wanting to be out of the limelight.

Tetsurou would scold her, saying that it was a waste because she had a good singing voice. In which, would make her blush. Kenma would say the same thing even without looking up from his game console. But Tetsurou's words resounded, her heart beating like a drum.

Shall I stay, would it be a sin?

If I can't help, falling in love with you

It was the clichest thing to happen – she fell in love with her childhood friend.

She fell for Tetsurou.

For all his cockiness, his mischievousness, his peculiar affinity with cats (ironic that they attended Nekoma), and his atrocious bed hair – she loved it all.

Of course, she'd never tell him.

She doesn't have the heart to.

Neither will she tell Kenma, being the perceptive boy he was.

Plus, she'd have to go against a throng of his admirers (who made up of about half of the female population, by the way). There was no way she had a chance. And besides, who was she to him but his ever dependable, timid and adorable best friend?

When he bought her a ukulele on her 16th birthday – he knew she had wanted to try to play it for the longest time, she knew that it was simply out of friendship.

For a while, she became the volleyball team's manager. And for a while, she was able to play it cool with her feelings. This was okay, she thought, its better like this.

"This is my best friend, (Last Name) (Name)." he says, wrapping his arms around her neck as he hugged her from behind, introducing her to two players from Fukurodani.

The shorter of the two – Akaashi Keiji, smiles. "Nice to meet you, (Last name)-san."

"Oh! She's so cute!" says the loud boy – Bokuto Koutarou. "Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?"

Tetsurou laughed, chin digging into her head. "I've known her forever, that'll be weird."

"Kuroo, you're hugging her too tight." Kenma says with a frown.

Best friend.

That's all she'll ever be to him.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes, this love was meant to be

It was rare to find Tetsurou at his lowest since he was usually contented with whatever happened. But they lost, unable to secure a spot at nationals.

So when she found him all by himself at the gym, she knew he needed to be cheered up.

Taking her ukulele from her bag, she started playing. Tetsurou looked up just as she started singing. "You with the sad eyes don't be discouraged, oh I realize" she kneeled in front of him, watching him with careful eyes. "It's hard to take courage, in a world full of people; you can lose sight of it all, the darkness inside you, can make you feel so small."

She continued singing to him, feeling her heart beat faster with every line. It was so hard seeing this down, it was so unlike him. He rested his head on his folded arms, eyes closed as she sang. He always loved hearing her sing.

"And I see your true colors shining through," she wished her words reached him. "I see your true colors, and that's why I love you."

For a moment, she choked up. Not intending to say those words out loud, but they were part of the song, and the way she sang it with so much emotion that the look Tetsurou was giving her made her nervous. His golden eyes stared deep into her (eye color) – filled with so much emotion, but she focused on confusion, probably at why she had stopped.

Regaining her composure, she continued. "So don't be afraid to let them show, your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow."

Tetsurou cracked a smile, reaching out to ruffle her hair playfully. "When did you get so cheesy?"

"And when did you become this uncool?" she teased back, slapping his hand away. "Are you feeling better now?"

Sighing, he leaned his back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "A little, but thanks for coming after me."

"It's not the end of the world," she tells him kindly. "and after all, there's next year. Right, captain?"

The look on his face was priceless – clearly not expecting that. But their senpai had already decided, Kai and Morisuke were on it too, as was Coach Nekomata – before it broke into a grin.

His grin was the biggest she's ever seen.

Take my hand; take my whole life, too

'Cause I can't help, falling in love with you

Tetsurou got mad at her, saying painful words to her face.

Furiously, he turned to face her. She took a step back in surprise, clutching her ukulele to her chest. Then her instrument slipped from her hand, landing on the ground with a loud crack. The words coming out from his mouth were hard to bear, and she could just stand there taking it all in.

He didn't mean it really, but the stress and frustrations were just getting to him. She knew that.

"You know nothing. I never want to see your face again." He seethed.

When all was said and done, he up and left.

It felt as though the life was sucked out of her. She couldn't feel anything, she felt too numb to move. It only came as a surprise that she was still there when she found herself sitting on the ground, rocks digging into her skin.

Picking up her ukulele from the ground, she was surprised to find that it was still in one piece. Except for the scratches on the surface, and crack on the rim of the saddle boards. Funny, they seemed like an allegory.

Despite it all, the pain in her heart and Tetsurou's harsh treatment towards her, she found herself smiling. Hot tears streamed down her face, teeth digging unto her lower lip as if to keep her sobs in.

But the pain of it all was too much, she was only human.

Hugging her instrument to her chest, she allowed herself to cry, sobbing loudly, body shaking violently as her heart broke into smithereens.

She heard that they had made it to the semi-finals, being one of the top four schools, which shouldn't be a surprise. Actually, it was secondhand information from Kenma. Right after what happened with Tetsurou, she decided to cut ties with anything associated with him, which was basically everything – the volleyball club, Kenma.

It was something she had to – no, something she wanted to do.

No matter how much it killed her.

"Hey, let's make a little bet. If I win, you go out on a date with me."

"And if I win?"

"You won't ever see me again."

Gentle strums silenced out the lull machines, the dripping of liquids. Faint scents of flowers and fruits hid the overly sanitized room, with walls too white and dull.

"But I can't help," her voice was quiet, low, eyes transfixed to her fingers on each string on her ukulele. "falling in love," a lone tear slips down her face, though a smile graced her lips. "with you."

In front of her, the television displayed the live coverage of the nationals - Nekoma won against Fukorodani, and then lost to Karasuno.

She smiled, hugging her ukulele as tears slipped freely.

The memory of the bet they made when they were younger came to mind, making her smile. That was such a long time ago, Tetsurou probably forgot all about that just as he forgot all about her.

"Don't worry, you won."

Now you won't ever see me again.

He was surprised when they came back to school, she wasn't there. She was the first person he looked for since she was absent during the whole finals match. But she wasn't anywhere to be found – not in the library, the music room, the club room.

He had a promise to keep, and an apology to make up.

So it came as a surprise to him when his classmates' expressions turned grim at the mention of her name. Some had begun to cry, some looked away, nothing was making sense.

But one word was clear to him – cancer.

He turned to his best friend, who met his gaze. For the first time in his life, he saw anger in those usually stoic eyes. He knew then that he knew, he always knew. There was also pain, pain for his best friend's condition. And for (Name)'s sake, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

Without a word, he ran, as fast as he can, ignoring the calls from his classmates, teachers, teammates. He had to get to her. He had to apologize; he didn't mean what he said. He wanted to see her, hold her, tell her he was stupid and an idiot-

But he was already too late.

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou angst #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #nekoma #kuroo x reader #haikyuu!! fanfic #hq fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! angst #hq angst #hq fic #hq angst fic #angst fic #alicemitch09 writes

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alch3mic · 4 years ago

Note

Could. Could I request SOFT TM SWAPAROO!BEAST/KING FLUFF??? aa??

The job you had was rather... peculiar one.

It certainly wasn’t the strangest job you’ve ever had in this crazy city, not by a long shot, but it was perhaps the most interesting you've had yet.

You were a personal maid.

That in itself was a pretty ordinary job title, which is why you didn't hesitate to apply for the job when you saw it online one day.

It was described simply as a live-in kind of gig with some rather long hours attached and a rather strange set of requirements, but the pay was way too good for you to pass up.

So you applied.

You were met the very next morning with a very strange phone call from a very callous individual who asked you some very bizarre questions.

The kind of questions you very much never asked for a job interview.

...Which made the whole thing seem very suspicious to you.

Still the money was very tempting so you decided to... very much continue with the job application anyways.

After what felt like more of an interrogation than a proper interview, the voice on the phone had told you to come down to the 'estate' for a face to face, and from there they would decide if you really got the job or not.

At this point you had expected a couple of things.

Like, maybe this was just some kind of prank and you'd show up to an empty lot, or... maybe it was a really elaborate ruse to rope you into some kinda weird pyramid scheme?

Wouldn't have been the first time that kinda stuff happened with all the different jobs you've applied to over the years.

Well, what you hadn't expected was to show up to the most ominous looking mansions you could've ever imagined; complete with deep dark colors, thorny rose bushes and several tacky gothic ornaments that made the whole thing look like it popped straight out of a storybook for a villain.

To top the whole affair off you met the owner of said villainous mansion; one very tall, very intimidating skeleton, who held the same callous tone as the one who spoke to you over the phone.

...A Fell...

And that's when your heart sank.

Seems like your bad feeling was right.

.......Until it wasn't.

The exchange you ended up having with him was actually rather pleasant, and he seemed to warm up to you rather quickly when you made an unexpected friend out of his cat. His sour expression ended up turning.. well.. less sour at the very least, and from there the two of you really seemed to hit it off.

Your job, as he described, would be easy.

Take care of his recluse brother.

......And that was it...?

Alright, you said.

And really, that was it.

You were given a rather cool looking (although also kinda tacky) uniform which completely matched the whole dark and gothic interior of the house, a tour of the place, and a small list of duties you were expected to perform daily along with anything else his brother asked of you.

Anything else, Papyrus took care of.

Cool.

Great.

Stellar, really.

What your new boss failed to mention was how much of a recluse his brother really was.

Like, the guy didn't even leave his room the first few days you were there.

You exchanged very few words with him through a large set of double doors on occasion, and you eventually managed to work out a bit of a schedule where he'd leave his room for a few hours and you'd tidy his space up.

You still ended up never seeing him.

He'd always miraculously disappear before you came in, even the few times you'd shown up just a few minutes early in hopes that'd you catch a glimpse of this guy.

But, no luck.

The whole affair just left you feeling rather curious about who exactly it was you were taking care of. You could tell from picking up his room that he was tall, much like his brother, but also kinda wide.

Built more like a square than a rectangle.

You could also tell he had a variety of interests from the books always messily littering his room. Anything from astronomy to zoology, all of the pages meticulous marked with sticky notes and papers with hastily scribbled notes on them. There was also an assortment of crafty things, like fabrics and chains always hastily thrown together on a desk that he apparently used to make things, such as outfits for himself.

It was cute, in a way.

He even eventually made something for you.

A gold bracelet, decorated with most delicate porcelain red roses who's petals were also trimmed in gold.

A thank you, he said, for taking care of him... and for filling the halls of this home with your singing.

You absolutely adored it, which is why it made you all the more determined to finally meet with him face to face.

Of course though, just like with everything else in your life, none of your plans ever worked out. Every opportunity to catch a peek at him was missed, even on the days where you would slide him things like meals through his door. He was always shadowed by the light in his room, so you could never see his face, and he always closed the door so quickly so your eyes could never adjust.

It was.. a little frustrating but, really it wasn't your place to push why he hid away.

You did happen to ask Papyrus one day when you were helping him tend to the rose bushes, but he all he told you was that his brother was shy around other people.

...Shy your fuckin' ass.

Sure, he was sweet. You could tell that from not only the gift he gave you, but also from the extended conversations you'd have with him on the other side of the door. He was a bit quiet in your first few exchanges but eventually warmed up a lot more to you the more you tried to strike up friendly conversations. He ended up becoming a little more cheeky, and seemed to have a certain skill for making you bust your butt laughing with his otherwise raunchy humor.

Really.. with that kind of smoother talker personality you really had to wonder what he went through to make him so cautious around others.

But.. again it just wasn't your place to ask.

You were here to make a paycheck, not invest yourself into the problems and lives of others... despite how much you enjoyed working for your employers.

Both of the brothers ended up treating you very well.

You were paid handsomely and never felt yourself being overworked. They never asked anything outrageous of you, gave you a rather lovely living quarters all to yourself on the estate grounds and even gave you adequate days off.

The whole thing almost really felt like some kind of fairy tale.

So here you were again, living in a small piece of your own world as you wandered the halls of the estate in the late hour, technically past your shift.

The rain pitter pattered against the window as you traveled with a laundry basket in hand, your last chore for the day. It had taken a while to dry thanks to the damp weather, and even though you were technically due to be off you wanted to have this finished before retiring for the evening.

Just needed to drop it off in front of Sans' room and away you'd g-

"mrow?"

You inhaled quickly at the sound, jumping a bit before turning back to look down the hall at a familiar white cat in the distance.

"Oh stars above, it's just you Doomy," you breathed out, placing a hand to your chest.

The cat meowed again as it trotted closer to you, so you carefully set down the laundry basket to scoop up the white cat in your arms.

"You scared the hell out of me! Didn't Papyrus ever teach you it's bad manners to sneak up on others you silly little cat?" you whispered softly as she purred in your arms.

Oh you could never stay mad at Doomfanger for too long.

She was just too cute, and always liked to keep you company on nights like this when Papyrus had to attend to business in town. Certainly made you feel a lot less lonely, even though you knew someone else was technically in this house too-

CREAK.

You froze again, hearing nothing but silence until the floors creak again underneath someone's footstep.

Then another.

And another.

Closer and closer.

......

Alright well you were armed with nothing but your two fists, some laundry and a cat, but Papyrus had left the whole estate in your care tonight and you would be damned before you disappointed him!

So, you turned confidently to face whoever was stalking these halls before being met with...

"...Sans?"

You're not exactly sure what compelled you to call out his name, considering whoever you were looking at had a blanket covering their shoulders and head, but apparently your guess was right as he froze on the spot.

"...Jeez, both you and Doomfanger are apparently determined to scare me out of my wits tonight," you finally sighed, letting the cat go as she gracefully landed and sauntered her way over to Sans before rubbing up on to his leg.

He still seemed frozen in place, his head tilted ever so slightly in your direction but the blanket he wore over his head still casted him into shadows thanks to the dim lighting of the halls. The only thing you could properly see were a pair of eyelights burrowing into you, one red and one white.

"Is.. everything ok?" you asked, picking up the laundry basket and carefully approaching closer.

Clearly it wasn't considering he was out of his room when you were here but...

"....left.."

"Huh?" you asked, still trying to at least keep some respectable distance between you both but also taking a step in to catch what he was saying.

"i...i-i thought you.. already.. so i......... snack..."

He was fumbling with his words, seeming to shrink in a bit on himself almost in fear or some kind of embarrassment.

"Oh! No, sorry!" you explained with a quick wave of your hand. "I just had this last load to finish but it took forever to dry so I stuck around a little longer to get it done!"

You did your best to smile warmly at him, which you hoped would ease a bit of the tension he was holding, but it didn't.

Instead he became... really...

Red.

Very, very red in fact.

So much so that it actually lit up his face, and for once you could actually see him as he stared back at you, seeming transfixed upon your features. There were harsh cracks and scratches splintered over his face, and just the faintest hint of gold where a tooth would have been.

"...Huh.."

Your words seemed to snap him out of whatever kind of trance he was in and he quickly covered his face with a clawed hand.

"n-no! this...! i.. didn't...! mean to... scare..."

He seemed to be scrambling for words again, but you were still dazzled by what you just saw, unable to keep the sparkle down in your own eyes.

"You've...."

He continued to cover his face with his other hand.

"......got some crumbs on your face."

.............

He carefully peeked at you between his claws, that red eyelight of his slightly enlarged and looking.. incredibly confused.

"Here," you said, tapping your own cheek.

Sans seemed to pause again, carefully removing once of his hands to rather quickly wipe his face.

"Nope, other one!" you giggled, unable to resist the smile climbing over your face once again.

Another attempt and another miss.

You could feel his eyelight bore into you some more when you laughed a bit more loudly this time, shaking your head and setting down the laundry basket once more.

"Oh my gosh, just..! C'mere!" you finally said, taking a few more steps while pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket.

He stared again for a few more moments, hesitating only slightly before carefully bending down to your level and slowly moving his hands from his face.

You lightly placed a hand on one of his rather tense cheeks before gently wiping the other, making note of the kind of crumbs he still had clinging to his face thanks to the red glow that still illuminated his cheekbones.

Slowly you felt the tension he held melt away and soon enough it felt like he was resting his head in the palm of his hand while a gentle rumbling noise made itself present to your ears.

"....Did you eat the last of the cookies?" you asked, glancing back up him only to see him quickly look away from you.

".........maybe," he said softly, letting out a small gruff laugh.

"Ooooh, Papyrus is going to have an absolute fit when he gets back," you snickered.

"...yeah i know..s'fine," he mumbled softly. "..just gonna blame it on you."

"Hey!!"

"...or doomfanger.."

"Oh my stars, do not blame the cat you goober!"

"what? i'm pretty sure you'd both get in less trouble than i would!"

"That's not the point you jerk, haha!"

"..heh.."

Yeah.. this... really was quite the peculiar job, wasn't it?

Strangely though, you liked it.

A lot.

Especially now that you got to see just how cute the skeleton beyond the door really was.

check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!

#why did this become so long?#because i just love setting up a premise and building a world for a story #I CANNOT HELP MYSELF OK #so please take this drabble #of our beastly king and his hard working beauty #he shy ok #beast!sans #underfell #underfell sans #sans x reader #reader insert #drabble #swaparoo!au #alch!writes

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years ago

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B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

#book two: sky spoilers #book two: sky #b2:s #tdp spoilers #viren #harrow #rayla #runaan #callum #claudia #soren #lujanne #moonshadow elves #aaravos

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sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

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starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story.

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool.

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust.

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you.

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera.

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway.

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it.

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you.

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you.

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented.

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.”

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks.

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense."

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied.

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings.

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

"'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent.

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together.

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face.

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him.

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe.

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong?

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently.

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. ��oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.”

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said.

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear.

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you.

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well.

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?”

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever.

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said.

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window.

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back?

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort.

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets.

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree.

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster.

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator.

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back.

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...”

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you.

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you.

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important.

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand.

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand.

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love?

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you.

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you.

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class.

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away.

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.”

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped.

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”

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