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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

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A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.

#young royals #young royals netflix #wilmon #wilhelm x simon #simon x wilhelm #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #simon young royals #simon eriksson #wilhelm young royals #wilmon fanfic #felice young royals

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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To Be My Night And My Day - Part 3

Summary: Hvitserk has been your best friend since childhood, the one you can always rely on. So when you start doubting your current relationship with Sihtric, Hvitserk kindly offers to help you out….but the consequences are never what you expected.

Pairing- Sihtric x Plus Size!Reader & Hvitserk x Plus Size!Reader

Warnings: Angst, implied smut, confessions

Words: 3200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @adrille88 @dini73 @flowers-in-your-hayr (lemme know if you want to be added or deleted)

Catch up here -- Part 1 / Part 2

The day of the midsummer festival arrived. Garlands of flowers and banners were strung between some of the houses. The flowers saturated the air with their potent aroma, mixing with the smoke from the large bonfires to create a heady scent in the evening air. The rambunctious screams of children and the cheers of old friends celebrating drown out all other sounds. Even the sun as it set over the fjords cast the sky in mesmerizing colors, as if it wanted to join in the revelry below before disappearing. Food and ale were in abundant supply, promising everyone to have their fill, and for many to awake the next morning with regrets due to the pain in their stomachs or heads. Or both.

Yet, you wandered along the streets, feeling alone even amongst the crowd. A smile remained plastered to your face as you moved about. A few times you stopped to greet those you knew and share a few sips of ale with them. You did not linger long though. Soon enough you were back to walking, back to scanning the crowds for two faces in particular, back to ignoring the churning in your gut.

As you maneuvered through the crowd, avoiding sprinting children and a few wandering hands, your mind reminisced that a year ago today was the first time you brought Sihtric to your home. That the two of you made love for the first time. That you shared with him a part of yourself no one else had seen or touched.

Your mind easily recalled how he was so gentle with you that night, treating you like a queen whom he willingly served to his utmost ability. Each caress, each kiss, each word of praise and compliment painted your skin while his musky scent and husky voice infused itself into your soul. Then as you made love, for there was no other description for it, you felt your heart fully open to him like a flower desperate for the sun's rays.

Afterwards, you laid together on your bed, silly smiles on both of your faces, wholly sated and sweaty. Neither of you with any intention of leaving. There he asked you to be his. His woman. His lover.

And you agreed immediately.

Under the festival's banners and the fading sun, your hands smoothed down the fabric of your dress as you walked. You had been working on this dress for the past several months by candlelight once Sihtric had fallen asleep. It was meant to be a surprise for him, a gift in a way. The color of the fabric was a deep forest green, his favorite color. It hugged you tight like a lover's embrace, showing your plump figure. Something you never would have done in the past. But for Sihtric you would….because you knew he loved your body and you wanted to look good for him. For with the way the dress was cut and showcased certain assets on your body, you knew he would thoroughly enjoy peeling you out of it later.

Tonight you were supposed to be at Sihtric's side, laughing and drinking with him. You were supposed to feel beautiful with his appreciative gaze and grabby hands. You were supposed to feel happy amongst your friends as you celebrated another year blessed by the gods.

Yet you were alone.

And all you could feel was despair.

Up ahead, you could see Queen Aslaug and Ubbe, sipping on horns as they watched the crowd, whispering to one another. When Ubbe caught your eye, he smiled brightly and motioned you over. You might have been able to keep your facade before Ubbe, teasing him about his latest lover or listening to him tell an embarrassing story of his brothers. He would throw his arm over your shoulders, letting you lay your head against him and steal sips of ale from his horn. He had told you more than once you were the sister he always wished for. A compliment you took to heart.

But you knew the queen would be able to see through your illusion within a second. The fake happiness you wore as a cloak to hide your true feelings, drawn back beneath her penetrating gaze, leaving you exposed. Somehow the woman had always been able to read you too well, even when you were a child. As you sat amongst the brothers at the table eating, when you occasionally joined them, they would be talking, or more likely arguing, your mind would be far away reliving the negative comments or looks thrown at you earlier in the day. Without a word, she would reach over and grasp your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Reminding you that those people's opinions were not the ones you should focus on. That your friends, your found family, their opinions matter more. Even now as you stood across the street, when her eyes met yours, there was a knowing weight there that made your heart clench painfully.

So instead, you shook your head and gave them a brief smile before disappearing into the crowd once more. You had hoped to see Sihtric or Hvitserk, to try and talk sense into them, to just see their faces and pretend for a moment that you had not monumentally screwed everything up. But as you wandered down the various streets, neither the blond prince or the dark-haired Viking seemed to be attending.

After a final glance around, with tears threatening to escape their confines and a churning of acid in your stomach that refused to settle, you turned your back and started towards the docks. You always found peace listening to the waves on the shore. The repetitive sound and motion, the salty air, the cool breeze on your skin, the sand beneath you, it all helped clear away the worries and fears in your mind for a time. And that was something you sorely needed right now.

You continued through the revelry, like a ghost among the living, threading your way towards the docks. You stopped when a hand landed on your arm, reaching out of the shadows and stilling your movements. With an excuse of exhaustion on your lips, you turned to deliver it to whomever it was seeking your attention.

Only for it to dissipate when your gaze met those dark eyes that enchanted you, that held your secrets, that you found solace in.

"Sihtric?" You breathed out. The churning in your stomach momentarily silenced under his gaze.

Those dark eyes scanned you from head to toe, not missing an inch of skin or curve of your body exposed in your dress. With the intensity of his gaze, a shiver raced down your spine and caused your breath to catch in your throat.

"You look beautiful." He softly murmured. With the lightness of a butterfly's wing, he reached up to trace your cheek and down your jawline. Unconsciously, your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close under the sheer bliss from his touch alone. He chuckled huskily, making your eyes snap open and your heart to skip at the sound.

"Thank you." You responded, equally as quiet.

The both of you stood there, somehow your hands now laying on his chest and his on your hips. You knew you should say something instead of staring at him like a lovestruck fool; but you were too caught in a daze from finally finding him, after days of your heart yearning for him. And with the way he was staring at you...you wondered if he felt the same.

"Can….can we talk?"

You nodded. "Of course."

He gently took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm of your hand, making your heart beat a rapid tempo in response. Silently he guided you through the crowd, away from the festival. A couple of times, you heard the call of your name or Sihtric's, friends hoping you would join them. Every time his feet never faulted, continuing onward, leading you away. He would wave a hand at them, calling out that the two of you were retiring for the night.

For the first time that day, the smile you wore was genuine. Not a hint of fictitious joy to be found. And whenever Sihtric would catch your eye and grin or wink at you….your smile only grew wider.

It was several minutes before you realized he was leading you back to your home. Privacy and quiet was what he most likely were looking for and that was guaranteed at your home right now. It was now though as you approached, your mind could see through the mental haze and began to question what he wanted to speak to you about.

Releasing your hand, he opened the door and stepped through. Yet you lingered for a moment on the threshold. There was something in you that knew, after this moment, after this talk, nothing would ever be the same. But would it bring you joy or heartbreak was unknown.

With a deep breath, you willed your heart to settle as you followed him inside. You first noticed the fire in the hearth was alive and dancing, casting light and shadows around the main room. For a brief moment you questioned your own sanity, for you were certain you had not left it like that. You always doused the flames before leaving your home. There were one too many stories of the negligence of others forgetting about their fire and their home turning to ash. Something you never wanted to experience personally.

The second thing you noticed was the blond prince sitting next to your small table, clad only in trousers and loose shirt, his legs stretched out before him. His green eyes were trained on you, first taking in your form through your dress before settling on your face. His pointer finger drummed repetitively on the cup he held in hand. At any other time, this scene would have been normal. He would probably be over demanding food and cuddles. But now, with the tension you could see in his form, it was anything but relaxed.

Your head whipped around to stare at Sihtric, your stomach doing somersaults and your traitorous heart racing like a horse. "What is going on?"

With a glance at Hvitserk, the dark-haired Viking stepped closer. His hand moved to cup your cheek, forcing you to stare only at him. "You love me?"

"Yes." You murmured.

He nodded once. "But you also love him."

This time when you answered, there was a tremble in your voice; not because your answer was untruthful, but from the pain you knew it carried with it. "Yes."

"How?"

You blinked owlishly for a moment. The question did not startle you, for it was a logical question. What caused your hesitation, your momentary lapse of thought, was that this was the very question you had been wrestling with ever since Hvitserk walked out after confessing his love to you. Amongst your sobbing and sleepless nights, you pondered how it could be. How could your heart yearn for both of them so earnestly? How could the very thought of your life without one or the other fill you with such dread?

As your mind fumbled, tripping over your chaotic thoughts like unearthed roots in a forest, Sihtric drew back from you. With a resigned glint in his eyes, he turned and walked over to the small table, taking the seat opposite of Hvitserk.

Both men faced you, their gazes solely locked on you like you were a mystery needing to be solved. It was here you truly realized how very different they were. One was a blond prince, someone you had known almost your whole life and had become a safe haven for when the world became too much. The other was a dark-haired bastard, someone who you had only known for a while but showed up like a shooting star amongst your darkest of nights.

So how could you love them both equally?

How could you explain it in a way they would understand?

"Because, Sihtric, you are my night." You stated with finality, meeting the gaze of your lover. After a moment, you turned to look at your best friend. "And, Hvitserk, you are my day. I need you both."

"That makes no sense." Hvitserk complained, then drained the cup in hand quickly. Only when he reached to refill his cup, did you notice the pitcher on the small table and the second cup near Sihtric's elbow. Absent-mindedly, you wondered how long the two of them had been sitting in your home drinking together while you were at the festival searching for them.

Running a hand over your dress, you took a second to gather your thoughts before speaking. The gazes of both men were still on you. Hvitserk tapped on his cup with his forefinger, a habit he did when thinking or listening intently. Sihtric sat frozen, unmoving like a statue, his full attention on you. Silently, you sent a plea to the gods that your words would ring true and turn their hearts from violence.

"Sihtric, you are my night. You are the peace in my storm, my quiet moments of solace. You are my comforting walks along the shoreline, holding hands and listening to the waves. You are my late-night talks, my confessions in the dark. You are the only one who truly understands what it was to be alone, to be an outcast amongst your own family. You have truly made me feel wanted and beautiful and happy, when I could only see loneliness in my future before I met you."

Tears in your eyes and heart held in the palm of your hands, you smiled faintly at your lover before shifting your gaze to your best friend.

"Hvitserk, you are my day. You are the joy in the sunlight. You are my silly adventures and learning to lie so as to avoid your mother's wrath. You are the laughter that always bubbles up in me whenever we are together. Yet you are my strength, without you I would not be here. You are the one to always encourage me, to ignore the comments and keep my head up high. You are the reason I can walk in Kattegat without a care, because their snide opinions hold no control over me anymore."

No longer could you hold the tears back, staining your cheeks as they slid down. You sniffled, trying to wipe them away with the sleeve of your dress, only for them to be replaced with your next heartbeat.

"I'm so sorry," you continued when you were certain your voice would not crack, "I don't know how else to explain it. I love you both….for different reasons. I know it makes me selfish. I know I don't deserve either one of you. Especially now. I hope one day you can forgive me….but I cannot choose between you. I can't. It would be like choosing which eye I wish to keep. I can live with only one, but having both makes me better, makes me happier. I'm so sorry."

Silence descended over the small room like a wet blanket, leaving you struggling to breath between their scrutiny and the tears streaming down your cheeks. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard and even it seemed to sense the intensity of the moment.

This was it. The time you had been waiting for. When they both would walk away and leave you alone. Not that you would blame them or try to stop them. It was what you deserved.

The two Vikings shared a meaningful look, an unspoken conversation passed between them, dark eyes meeting green ones. Hvitserk tilted his head to the side with raised brows, the faintest hint of a smirk teasing his lips. A long exhale escaped Sihtric as his gaze dropped to the table for a second before jerking it back up to meet the prince's. He nodded and they both faced you once again.

"This is it? Nothing can change your mind?" Hvitserk softly asked.

You shook your head. "I'm sorry."

Hvitserk smirked. "We figured as much." He took a sip of his drink, carefully setting it on the table after. "We have talked….neither of us wish to lose you. Thus, we have a choice for you."

"Yes?"

"Would you be willing for us to share you?"

Your thoughts tossed and turned like a rowboat stuck in the raging seas. Never had you thought of that option. You knew of others who had shared and had heard their stories of what it was like to have two lovers, but you never considered that for yourself. Mostly because you never thought more than one person would ever be interested in you anyway.

Your prior tears forgotten, you stumbled over your words as you watched both men. "I….truly? You would be willing….to share….me?" A part of you wondered if this was some kind of joke, something to raise your hopes only to dash them away

Sihtric rubbed a hand along his jawline. "We can try."

"How….how would that….it work?"

"Well, tonight we figured we could have a trial run, if you agree." Hvitserk said casually, as if you were discussing the weather or what he wanted to eat for dinner.

Your mind continued to whirl with thoughts and questions. For surely there were certain things which would need to be discussed beforehand. Would others know of this….arrangement? What would happen if this fell apart? Curtly, you shook your head, hoping to dislodge the worries and fears. For once you wanted to live in the moment, and take the hand outstretched before you. Let the morning light bring its own concerns.

With a confidence you were unsure you truly felt, you straightened as you stood before them. "Yes. I want to do this."

Hvitserk chuckled as he leaned back in his seat again, that damn smirk beaming from his face, causing butterflies in your belly to dance.

"Good." Sihtric leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Before your eyes, you watched the heat grow in his dark gaze, transforming from stoic to hungry in a way that made your breath hitch. "Take your clothes off."

Your core clenched at the way his voice dropped while giving the command. A low simmer of desire sparked in your belly at the covetous look in his eyes. Your gaze shifted to the blond, only to be met with a wicked, primal stare that sent a shiver down your spine. Standing before them both, you felt a lamb before two ravenous wolves. Ones that would only feast on your flesh after they toyed with you, played with you, and made you cry out and beg for relief.

With hands shaking, not from trepidation but anticipation and excitement, your hands made quick work of the ties of your dress. Desire tightened a knot in your stomach and caused arousal to bloom between your legs. In the next moment, your dress dropped, pooling at your feet, leaving you naked before their eyes. Every roll of fat, every stretch mark, every blemish on full display for them. Every curve of your body, your ample breasts and thick thighs exposed in the firelight. Yet all you could see was the way both men drank you in with their starved looks, as if they were at a feast and you were the main course they had been waiting for….and they fully intended to devour to their heart's content.

Sihtric spoke first, almost making your knees buckle due to the low growl of his approval.

"Good girl."

Part 4

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years

Note

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

��C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

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fairestwriting · 3 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for diasomnia (separate) dating Jade and Floyd’s little sister? Thanks for reading and have a good day!

so like a contest on who can be the most insane, your brothers or your boyfriend

+ ko-fi link, if anyone feels like financially supporting my writing

Malleus Draconia

They seem happy for you when you break the news, full of pride. Floyd puts an arm around your shoulders, look at you, his little sister about to be queen! Jade congratulates you on your relationship, but following it with a warning that it might attract unwanted attention, because of your boyfriend's status...

Things start feeling strange soon though. They make sure to let you know they're both excited to have Malleus over and... get to know him. What, why are you looking at them like that? They mean it! They won't do anything bad, they promise!

When Malleus is over it's... god it sure is. The twins aren't one bit afraid of him, and he's not one bit afraid of them, their terrifying auras just condense into something weird. At least it's mutually entertaining.

Jade serves dinner and Floyd circles around Malleus, bombarding him with questions. He's like a child at a recently-opened amusment park, never really seeing a dragon fae like Malleus in real life. Jade scolds him when he gleefully asks if he's ever burned someone when breathing fire, but just for the crudeness in his tone -- He's actually curious about it too.

Malleus will be pretty amused by everything? It almost feels like a normal, lively dinner. He doesn't mind all of the questions, it's refreshing to see people that just don't fear him at all. But, even then... you just have this bad feeling that won't leave. Like if the situation called for it, the three of them would break into an all out fight, ruining your entire home in the process...

When Malleus is gone, Floyd praises you for having such a fun boyfriend, patting you on the head while Jade nods along, agreeing that everyone had a wonderful time tonight, and he was welcome to come back whenever he wanted.

So, it actually went really well, you sigh to yourself in relief, glad none of your worries about the situation actually came to be. You thought Jade and Floyd might get overprotective, threatening Malleus in a million different ways--

Then, as Floyd rambles about how much fun he had, you hear him insert in a comment about how he wanted to see how long Malleus would last if he tried to squeeze him, and you think that maybe this didn't o as perfectly as it seemed.

Well, it was still pretty good, either way -- They’ll pester Malleus with questions everytime he comes over, though, and you might not get any alone time at all.

Lilia Vanrouge

You break the news, your brothers immediately look at you like they'd bitten into a lime. Displeased, strained expressions.

They know Lilia, he's powerful and a vice dorm leader, the sort of person Azul would want them to keep tabs on, so they had followed him around a couple times... and what they think about Lilia is, well, that he's like when you bite into a piece of candy and taste something bitter and savoury instead. There's just something so wrong about him. His smell is all off.

Floyd whines about it. Why pick Lilia? He's so weird, and not even the fun kind! He looks just like defenseless prey and yet he's not, that's just disturbing to him. Jade places a hand on his shoulder, adding that he should give their sister's boyfriend a chance, if she's chosen him then there's definitely some sort of... appeal to him that they hadn't seen yet. Well, that's what he says, but you can tell his smile looks plastic. You're immediately exasperated.

Lilia's arrival isn't really met with a warm welcome. It's you and Jade at the door, him visibly faking the politeness as he leads your boyfriend into your home, and Floyd stays in his room, refusing to come out until the food was ready.

Jade and Lilia's initial conversation is uncomfortable. Just small talk and polished greetings, and yet you can tell Jade is at his wits’ end talking to him. Why does Lilia bother your brothers so much? Even them can’t fully understand it, honestly.

Things lighten up when you’re eating, Floyd comes along and while he’s glaring at Lilia, who you know is deliberately acting oblivious, the whole time, Jade’s food is very good, and he’s still curious about the fae even if Lilia makes him uncomfortable, so conversation flows a little better.

When it’s time for Lilia to go, they both exhale heavily -- And looking straight into your eyes, tell you to never bring this guy over again. Date him if you want, just don’t... let him set foot into your home when they’re there.

Silver

Silver? As in the guy from Diasomnia they care the least about? Okay, sure, but like, why?

Jade feels neutral about it, if only a little disappointed. Floyd will complain about him looking so boring, what the hell do you even see in this guy? He just doesn’t look too fun to mess with, and that was the main thing they were looking forward to when you started dating someone.

Floyd tells you to get a cooler boyfriend, while Jade shrugs and says you’re welcome to bring him over anytime, if you wanted. Emphasis on if you wanted, he doesn’t particularly feel like interacting with Silver either.

You have a very normal dinner when Silver comes over. Floyd asks him some crude questions about how it’s like to serve Malleus, Jade serves dinner and asks about your relationship, how you met and such.

If he happens to fall sleep, Floyd is going to doodle on his face like they’re kids at a sleepover. And Jade will just watch, grinning as he fake-complains about how he shouldn’t treat their dear sister’s boyfriend like this.

After the introduction dinner, you ask them what they thought about Silver, and you receive a double shrug. They don’t really feel any particular way about him. He’s just some guy. Not worthy of much attention in that he isn’t someone they feel like they have to protect you from, and isn’t that fun to mess around with.

They check up on you every now and then when Silver comes over, but they don’t care if you leave the door closed. If you do, Floyd is going to barge in anyway, and linger around to get under your skin.

Sebek Zigvolt

I feel so bad for Sebek dear god.

So he knows you’re a Leech, right? He was likely aware of the risk that came with dating you, especially if you two wanted to be serious about it, he’d have to talk to your absolutely fucking terrifying family at one point. He’s willing to do that for his lady, of course!

Doesn’t mean it’ll be fun for him, though.

When you tell Jade and Floyd you’d been dating Sebek, they’ll grin wide -- Now that’s a fun Diasomnia member. They’re gonna make his life a living hell.

Sebek will come into your house with the mindset that he needs to do this properly, just the way he approaches everything else, but even he feels a heavy dread settling over his chest when he’s being greeted by the visibly excited, grinning twins.

They have a kind of good cop, bad cop scheme going on when Sebek is there. Floyd will pester him until he’s about to explode, asking questions at the pace of a machine gun -- Mostly rude ones about Malleus -- to see his reaction, while Jade lightly scolds him, smirking and doing nothing about.

They somehow find out that Sebek doesn’t like bitter flavors, and get together to make their dish as bitter as their and your palates can stand, then tease him endlessly about visibly not liking it.

They just... turn your boyfriend into a whole toy. You can ask them to stop all you want, but they won’t do it.

It’s just a mess. If you take him to your room, one of them is gonna stand by the door and tease you about how they won’t let you keep the door closed yet, what if Sebek isn’t as serious about chivalry as he seems to be? You never know!

Needless to say, they do like Sebek. Just... in the way that a cat likes toying with a mouse before it kills it. Jade tells you eagerly about how he’d love to have Sebek over again when he’s gone.

Don’t humor him. They will not grow out of bullying your boyfriend, he’s too earnest for his own good.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #lis writing

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summonerscenarios · 3 years

Note

So, mc adopting at least one of each of the Child mobs, how would that go?

IT MAY BE 4AM BUT THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE LETS DO SOME MF HCS.

Sadly I was only able to work on two of the mob kiddos as I didn't want this to get too long but I still hope its okay~!

Also just a heads up a lot of this is a pure waffle of information based on my own interpretations of the mobs so here's hoping I did a good job with them lmao.

---------

It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d ended up inadvertently adopting someone, nor will it be the last knowing your luck. It’s not like you intentionally do anything to draw people to you, it just so happened that the things that you did and situations you got wrapped up in led to you getting to know all kinds of people in the process. And those people saw you in all kinds of ways - most saw you as friends, others saw someone else in you, more than a few made no attempts to hide their blatant flirting - and, rarely, a few would even see you as a role model,a mentor or parental figure to look up to.

You honestly have no idea why, after all, it’s not as though you go out of your way to make particularly responsible decisions (if anything, you get yourself in enough trouble that you’d imagine you’re anything but a role model) but a lot of the younger transients and students seem to flock towards your presence, looking for comfort, advice, or just someone who respects them. At first it was just the younger members of your guild that you technically took under your wing - as the Guildmaster you assumed it was only natural to look out for them, and you’d long gotten used to protecting Agyo and Kijimuna, wanting to make sure that the only thing they had to worry about was having the chance to be kids rather than getting dragged into the Guild’s app-based affairs. It’s not like responsible parental figures are easy to come by in this world of app-battles and fighting, so that’s perhaps why when you start taking a more protective, nurturing role with the younger ones that more of them begin popping up.

Surprisingly, the ghosts are some of the first mob children that you noticed began flocking towards you. Roaming spirits are unusual but certainly not rare, and it honestly breaks your heart a little to see so many young ghosts lingering around in the unexplored corners of the city, searching for one thing or another. Things feel...off, for a while before you can pin down the issue - you start feeling as though you’re being watched when you’re in the guildhouse by someone other than your teammates, and when your attempts to shake off the uneasy feeling doesn’t work, you decide to bring it up to your fellow Guild members in case it’s someone trying to spy. You want to make sure it’s not someone who can bring danger to the guild, but you don’t have much of a chance to set up a search of the building when the D-evils come tottering into your field of view, screeching up a storm and motioning towards an otherwise unassuming corner of the window.

Turns out you weren’t the only one noticing the other presence, as Shiro’s D-evils seem to have picked up on it to - and when your attention snaps over to the window to see what they’re pointing to you barely catch a glimpse of the flickering figure of a ghost child as they disappear from view. From that point on you start spotting the child more often - he’s shy or wary, always lingering someone just out of the corner of your eye but never getting any closer almost like he’s afraid. He seems to have taken an interest in you though, especially whenever the younger guild members come around to spend time at the guild, and it isn’t long before you notice that he’s intently watching the way you watch over and care for the kids of the guild - he looks almost sad in these instances, but never dares to get any closer and disappears as soon as you turn to look at him. Over time it becomes almost normal to have a resident ghost at the guild (though Agyo still shudders at the mention of ghosts despite having seen the kid plenty of times since arriving). He seems to be more at ease after a while of watching you, and things finally come to a head one day when you’re playing videogames with Hanuman and the other kids, noticing that the little ghost has wandered far closer than he’d ever done in the past, watching the small screen setup on the floor with an avid interest that seems far happier than the forlorn looks he’d had before. Taking a chance you tilt your head to look over at the ghost child, motioning him to come over and join; he disappears for a moment, startled, but right as you start to worry you may have scared the kid off he rematerializes, inching hesitantly closer and closer till he’s hovering beside the rest of your group, eyes fixed to the characters on screen with a child-like wonder.

You aren’t quite sure how this ended up with you adopting the ghost child yourself. It’s just one day you were talking about how you were pretty much adopted by the teachers at school and how you’d like to pay it forward some day, and the next you were talking about ‘son’ this, and ‘might as well take the kid under your wing’ that - you were practically acting like an impromptu parent for like a fifth of the people you knew anyway, so what was actually adopting a child? Toji had just about choked to death when you’d made the unfortunate decision to announce that fact mid-drink, and Shiro spent more than his fair share of time probing you with the legal questions surrounding a student adopting a child, ghost transient or not. Ryota seems incredibly excited by the idea however, gushing about being an uncle and wondering if your new son can eat and if so what his favorite food is - plenty of questions for a later time.

Ghost is certainly the most clingy of the children you end up adopting, and it’s clear from the get go in the sense that the poor little one is essentially glued to your side from the moment you take the venture to actually adopting him. With few things remaining in the physical world to cling onto, the familial bond is something that the little one cherishes and he absolutely refuses to budge on letting it, and by proxy, you, go. For a while he actually fears you’re going to leave him and take back what you said about protecting him and being a good parent. He of course had parents once, and their lack of presence at his side now paints a tragic picture no matter what way you look at it, so the kids got more than a few attachment issues you need to work through. Ghost doesn’t really talk too much, instead relying on gestures and interacting with things around him to talk to you and others - it takes a little bit to get used to if you’re unfamiliar with some of the gestures but it’s easy to pick up as time goes on.

Definitely one of the more well behaved children of the bunch, given that once you’ve convinced him that you’re not abandoning him he’s dead set on making you proud. He gets antsy when you’re not around, spending most of his time at the guild when you're at classes, but he takes to following Agyo around instead during these times. Agyo’s more than a little startled at first, and is a bit awkward about the whole situation as he processes it, but before long Agyo’s not only getting along with your ghostly son, but he’s also teaching him the ‘lion dog duties’ that he’s been teaching you - you’ll never quite forget walking in to Agyo giving the poor kid a detailed rundown on the upkeep of the guildhouse and all that it pertains.

It was supposed to only be the one child, you swear, but damn if you haven’t got a bleeding heart and a knack for attracting trouble. Word travels around fast about your adoption, and as more people learn about your impromptu push to parenthood people start coming to you for help - namely, kids with nowhere else to go. Maybe it’s your bleeding heart or savior complex, but before long one kid becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough you’ve got four kids on your hands.

There’s no denying that things get a little bit rocky when you start taking in other children. Despite the other kids in the guild, Ghost has technically been the only child up to this point, and with your attention shifting from both him and the other children at once it’s a sudden change - one that you thankfully discussed with him first to make sure he was okay. Even with the okay though, Ghost is more than a little anxious when you bring the second child, a nether sprite, ‘home’, especially because of how loud she is by comparison. Nether sprite is an absolute ball of energy and mischievous to boot, so she more than makes for an interesting parallel to the otherwise quiet Ghost you’ve been taking care of the past few months.

She’s a handful, especially during the first few weeks that she’s settling in - it takes her a while to really start seeing the place as home, and even longer for her to even consider you a parental figure (she’s seen you as more of a babysitter till you proved you were willing to stick around and put the effort in to be a good parent). Once she does settle in however she takes to the place quickly, and, to your surprise, your two kids become thick as thieves. The Nether sprite catches on quickly to how Ghost communicates, and given his penchant to linger around those he’s close to and follow them around she’s more than happy to drag him all over the shop from one activity to another - it’s a surprising development but one you actively encourage. Unfortunately as I mentioned she’s still mischievous, though tones it down from anything too troublesome if it’ll cause you too much grief.

However that hasn’t stopped the amount of times you’ve gotten calls from someone about the kind of trouble you two little ones have wound up getting themselves into - looks like they both picked up your knack for getting intentionally and unintentionally dragged into the weirdest events (sure, it’s fun when you do it, but having your kids doing it only serves to give you grey hairs from the stress.) And things only get crazier once the other kids end up coming along, for both better and worse - but that’s a story for another time.

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #housamo mob #housamo ghost #housamo sprite #housamo lantern #housamo nether sprite #request #ask #gzgs222-blog #first post in....hooo boy #a WHILE #i think im a little rusty so please bear with me while i get back on track #i will probably do one for the ciramantep and jiangshi in the future #but for now we got the ghost and the lantern #a fitting combo lmao

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seiyasabi · 4 years

Text

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio), mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..)

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money.

How wrong you had been.

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world?

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch.

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die.

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming.

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent.

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.”

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men?

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it.

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression.

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion.

“Master Dio, what are you implying?”

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger.

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh.

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss.

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it��s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork.

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta.

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod.

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze.

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in.

“Okay. I understand.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help.

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc.. It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha.

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement.

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take.

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty.

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy.

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed.

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe.

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity?

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual.

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since.

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so.

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest.

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick.

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal.

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit.

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out.

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you.

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.”

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release.

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor.

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head.

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!”

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit.

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside.

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before.

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you.

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb.

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?”

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!”

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses.

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.”

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick.

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do.

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere omegaverse #omegaverse #jjba omegaverse

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Gold Rush

Finally venturing into writing for Brock, and so excited to put this out there!! Very appreciative of the encouragement I’ve gotten throughout this from @brockadoodles who had (rightfully so, man deserves it) made loving Brock her BRAND. If there was any hockey who’s made to be a dad, it’s Brock Boeser, and I’ve genuinely loved getting to put this together. Love hearing feedback and what your favorite parts were, so reblog and pop into my inbox!

word count: 3.8k+

Brock had loved kids his whole life. Being around them, looking after them, the first day a kid asked him to autograph his jersey was burned into his brain alongside precious few other memories, most of the others involving you. And anyone who had ever seen him with Easton could tell that Brock Boeser loved babies. He had wanted kids since he was old enough to know what being a dad was, and knew so strongly that was a path he wanted — needed, honestly, there was too much love in his heart to not share it with everyone he could — that he wouldn’t ever have let things get serious with you if that wasn’t a life you wanted for yourself. Parenthood wasn’t for everyone, and he never held it against the women he had dated who didn’t want to be moms, but it was for Brock Boeser.

He remembered the day he brought it up with you, his voice soft and hesitant as your head rested on his shoulder, a blanket thrown haphazardly over their laps as Return of the Jedi played on the TV. “Do you want kids someday?” Brock asked. He spoke gently, not wanting to scare you off with thoughts of the future coming too fast for you to handle, wondering if maybe seven months into a relationship was too early to bring up the type of commitment that lasted a lifetime. But he had to, had to protect himself from getting more invested and one more broken heart in a relationship that wasn’t just headed down the wrong set of train tracks, it was going the opposite way entirely. But, as you spoke, it turned out that he never had anything to worry about, and Brock wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more relieved in his life.

“I do,” you said, looking up at his face, trying to read his expression. “Always have. Not sure how many, I’ve always thought two or three sounded good. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Brock couldn’t help the way his heart absolutely swelled, the way you spoke of him in your future, with such ease and certainty as if you weren’t even entertaining a possibility that he wouldn’t be a part of it, that he wouldn’t be the one you would have children with. He twisted his neck, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “We will.”

So Brock loved kids, and you loved kids, and it had been established over a year before he put a ring on your finger that they were something in your future. You bought a four-bedroom in Shaughnessy, the idea being that one would be a guest room and two would be reserved for the kids, whenever they came along. “We can always add on,” Brock had said as you signed the papers, the real estate agent dropping the keys into your palm with a warm smile. And you knew that he would, you knew that Brock wanted as many kids as you were willing to give him. But you’d start with one. That was the plan. That was the plan, so a few months after you got back from your honeymoon in Scotland you went off of your birth control. Kids would happen when they happened, but you both knew you’d rather them sooner than later, and thus had begun your journey towards starting a family. That was the plan, so a year and a half ago you had swapped the pill for a stock of pregnancy tests, taking one a month and whenever you were feeling even slightly off for good measure, sure that your nausea and headache wasn’t the beginnings of a flu but rather your baby making themself known.

When six months of trying came and went without a single positive test, you both started to get a little antsy, but you knew that these things took time, and you knew that it hadn’t been long enough for there to be any real cause for concern. But you still called your doctor, started exercising more and taking folic acid like she recommended, you and Brock both cutting down on your alcohol. “If you’ve got to do all this, it’s only fair I have to make some changes, too,” he had said. You loved your husband for many reasons, chief among them being the fact that no matter the circumstance, where you were or who you were with or how people were acting, he never made you feel like you were on your own. Everything was a team effort in the Boeser household.

It was six months, and you were doing okay, and Brock was genuinely winning the award for the world’s best husband with how deftly he could calm you down every time you saw the words not pregnant show up on a pregnancy test, but then it hit a year of trying without success and you started to get worried. It was July, and you knew it was common in the NHL to try and time births for the offseason — if you got pregnant in the summer, your baby would have been born in the middle of a playoff push — but you honestly would have settled for any timing. So you visited a fertility specialist at the Mayo Clinic, a quiet recommendation Brock’s mom got from a friend’s daughter. You loved your own mom, but Laurie truly had been your saving grace in everything. A quiet, steady presence who offered more love and support than you could ever ask for, giving her advice only when asked and never once betraying your trust by telling anyone. But Dr. Gonzalez got the tests back, both yours and Brock’s, and said that nothing was wrong. “Unexplained infertility,” they called it. It was nothing anybody was doing wrong, nobody’s fault, not a matter of hormonal imbalances or obvious lifestyle factors or anything that would have let you blame it on yourself. Which, on one hand, was so good and so relieving, so desperately needed. You needed to know that it wasn’t your body, and it wasn’t Brock, that was keeping the two of you from finally being able to grow your family. But on the other hand, there were few things more hopeless or frustrating than hearing that they couldn’t find a cause. That meant that there wasn’t anything you could have done differently, true, but that also meant that there wasn’t anything you could do. It was a waiting game, and you were never good with being patient.

Pregnancy scares were more common than people might know, if the experiences of you and your friends were anything to go by. There were high school boyfriends, college roommates, half of the people you knew had worried they were pregnant or had gotten someone pregnant far before they were ready. But now, when you were settled down and established and were building a life with the most amazing man you had ever had the fortune to love, and you wanted a baby, it wasn’t happening. The clinical definition of infertility was the “failure to achieve a clinical pregnancy after 12 months or more of regular unprotected sexual intercourse.” You had committed the definition to memory over the past 14 months, and whether you knew it or not, Brock had too. You had always been good at tests. Good grades, always the essay the teacher used as an example in class, graduated top of your class at UBC. But this was one test you couldn’t study for, and one you couldn’t believe you had failed time and time again.

Which brought you to December, normally one of your favorite times of the year but one that you had recently begun noticing all the doom and gloom in that others had always mentioned when speaking about the winter months. You still loved the holidays, Christmas and New Year’s and everything in between, but you thought that in your second year as a married couple, you wouldn’t still be a family of two. It was a year and a half since you and Brock had started trying for a baby, and there was still no luck. It was a year and a half, and you had started talking about options. Vancouver had some amazing fertility specialists, and adoption was something you had discussed looking into, but you had both agreed on waiting a few more months before taking that route.

---

Which brought you to almost three weeks later, two days before New Year’s Eve, your head in the toilet and your husband leaning up against the doorway. “God, I feel like shit,” you said, leaning up against the wall when your nausea had finally seemed to subside. “I bet, last time I threw up was our honeymoon,” he said, trying to make you laugh. Brock had insisted on trying haggis in Scotland, saying he needed the “full experience,” but regretted that decision as soon as he spent the better part of the second night of your honeymoon in the hotel bathroom throwing up from food poisoning. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, gratefully taking the cup of water Brock handed you as you leaned up against the bathroom counter.

You caught his eyes searching yours as you set the glass down, his face wearing an expression you had come to know well in the four years you had been together. There was something on his mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should say it. “Yeah?” you prompted, raising your eyebrows.

He gave a tiny shake of his head. “It’s nothing, seriously.”

Now it was your turn to look at him. “Brock, it’s going to eat you up if you keep it all inside. Spit it out.”

“How long has it been since you took a test?” Brock asked gently.

You should have known. God, you should have known that’s where his mind would go, and the worst part of it all, the part that made you feel even worse for getting your husband’s hopes up that maybe this was finally it, maybe it had finally worked, was that you couldn’t even blame him. You had been snappier at Brock the past few days, something both you and he had attributed to your overall weariness about the whole process, you had to practically slap his hands away from your breasts the other night while you were having sex, and this wasn’t even the first time you had thrown up this week. But it was flu season, and you worked with kids, and seemed to catch it more years than not despite taking the flu shot religiously each October. You’d be looking for a missed period, but they had always been light and you had experienced some spotting when Brock was on a road trip the week before.

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, shaking your head. “I don’t know...A month? A little over? I just hate that it’s getting so clinical, that’s not what it was supposed to be about, that’s never what it was supposed to be about.”

Brock ran his hands up your arms, back and forth, the same way he had been comforting you for years. “I know, baby. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way, more stressed or disappointed in yourself, because it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. We’re going to have a baby one way or another, because I love you and I’ve never met anyone who’s more excited, and ready, and made to be a mom quite like you. And whether you have the baby yourself, or we adopt, or whatever path we decide is the right one for us, they’ll be ours, and they’ll be so loved.” Brock ghosted a kiss over your forehead, his eyes closing. “You don’t have to take another test if you don’t want to, the last thing I want to do is make you more anxious over all of this. But I think it might be good. I think it might help.”

You breathed out deeply through your nose, shooting your husband a weak smile. God, he was so good to you. “I’ll tell you if I do.”

Brock nodded, stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms, whispering your name as he leaned his forehead against yours. “No matter what happens — tomorrow, next week, next year, I don’t care — nothing you do will ever make me love you any less. We’re good. We’re gonna be okay.” You could have filled a hundred books with the reasons why you loved Brock Boeser, and this was one of them. The way he loved you, so selflessly and sacrificially, without an ounce of ego and never expecting anything in return aside from your heart. You didn’t know what you had ever done in this life or any past one to deserve him, but there wasn’t a day you didn’t thank God for the privilege of letting you love this man.

---

It was finally New Year’s Eve, festivities having taken over the city — really, they hadn’t stopped since Christmas — and hardly a flat surface was left undecorated with posters or metallic tinsel, or both for good measure, including almost the entirety of yours and Brock’s house. He had volunteered your place weeks ago as the site for the team’s New Year’s Eve party. It didn’t generally draw a crowd as big as the holiday party earlier in the month, which usually had not only the players’ partners, but children and whatever family was visiting at the time, so Brock had asked if you’d be willing, and you agreed easily. You loved getting to spend time with the team, and you were even more inclined than usual to gravitate towards any kind of distraction that would take your mind off of the stress you were under. The stress that you put yourself under, to be fair. So you threw yourself into planning and preparation, pulling out the ice chest from the garage and filling it up, making sure people were bringing enough champagne, cleaning every inch of the house with Brock until it was spotless despite the fact that you both knew you’d have to do the same thing in the morning.

Some two and a half hours into the party and most everyone who was drinking was sufficiently drunk, the TV in the living room flipping back and forth between the broadcast from Times Square and Youtube karaoke that nearly everyone had been roped into at some point or another. You sipped your soda, half-sitting on one of your barstools next to Holly. “You’re not drinking?” she asked curiously.

“I had some earlier, trying to pace myself” you said, waving your hand. “Someone’s got to look after that one.” You nodded towards Brock, who was having what looked to be the time of his life in your living room while badly singing along to One Direction. Holly nodded. You knew she probably wanted to ask more, but she was too tactful to push. “It’s so nice to see them all like this, just letting loose, having fun. It’s hard to remember sometimes that these are just guys in their 20s and 30s when they’re constantly off travelling or away at games, doing things most people their age only dreamed of. They don’t get the chance to be normal hardly ever. And the season can get stressful...It’s just good to see,” you said.

“It is,” she agreed.

You checked your phone. Twelve minutes till midnight. “You want to help me get the champagne ready?”

Holly smiled. “Let’s do it.”

Nearly twenty flutes of champagne later — you had no idea where Brock had managed to find all of the glasses — you walked around the corner, your head poking into the living room. “Champagne’s in the kitchen, everybody. Five minutes till midnight!”

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Brock said, leaning in for a kiss after walking over.

You scrunched your nose. “Babe. It hasn’t even been ten minutes.” The second you had gotten back from refilling your drink earlier, Brock had dragged you into what turned out to be a very endearing but not-so-successful rendition of I’ve Had the Time of My Life in the living room, minus the lift. He wanted to go for it, and you trusted your husband with everything, but you really didn’t feel like spending your New Year’s Eve in the ER after having crashed into the Christmas tree. Dirty Dancing was one of the first movies you had ever watched together, so there was more than a little meaning behind the choice, but you doubted you were exactly making Jennifer Grey proud.

“Ten minutes away from you is ten minutes too long,” he said, nuzzling his head into your neck.

The fingers of your free hand carded through the hairs at the base of his neck; you loved it when he let his hair grow out like this. “Okay, babe, I believe you. How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Brock pulled back, rolling his eyes at you in exaggeration. “Only two beers since the night started. I’m not drunk, I’m not even tipsy, I just love my wife.”

“Could be worse,” you quipped. You squeezed his hand as the two of you walked into the kitchen, after half of the guests had already grabbed their flutes and made their way back into the living room for the countdown. Grabbing your drink from the other side of the counter, you held it in your far hand as you and Brock turned back around, taking your place by the Christmas tree. You glanced towards the TV, where the Times Square ball was slowly inching towards the ground. “Anyone else think it’s a little weird that we’re all staring at a TV waiting for something to happen that already happened 3 hours ago?”

“I don’t believe in tape delay,” Elias said.

Quinn nodded seriously in agreement, but the corner of his mouth twitched up. “It doesn’t exist. That little notice in the corner, saying ‘this is a recording of an earlier broadcast? Fake.”

You snorted into your glass as everyone’s attention turned back to the screen. Three minutes till midnight. “I was a little apprehensive at first when you said you’d put us down to host,” you said, leaning back into Brock’s chest, “but I’m glad you did. This is nice.”

“I’m glad we’ve got everyone around,” he said, looking down at you. “What are you drinking?” he asked curiously. He hadn’t noticed before, too caught up in the euphoria and exhilaration of the night, but the more he looked at it, the more he realized that your glass looked different than everyone else’s.

“Sparkling cider,” you said, your heart rate picking up. “I brought it in case any of the kids came.”

“But there was plenty of champagne left?” Brock questioned. “We’re at our own house, it’s not like you need to be playing designated driver.” You let out an airy laugh, the kind that made Brock’s eyes immediately snap to yours because he knew you so well, he could read even the slightest actions, the smallest shift in tone, and he knew what that particular laugh meant. It was your nervous laugh. “What is it?” he asked, guiding you around the corner to the darkened hallway, the residual glimmer of the lights from the Christmas tree glowing softly on the walls.

You looked up at him, the purest most radiant smile you had ever given him crossing over your face. “You’re not supposed to drink when you’re pregnant,” you whispered, your top lip trembling and letting you know that you were only moments away from tears.

Brock was speechless as he looked at you, the near-silence of the hallway a strange contrast to the growing noise in the living room as the clock ticked closer and closer to the new year. “And you’re...You’re not drinking because…” He faltered.

You gently took both of your glasses, setting them on a side table before taking his left hand in your own, running your thumb over his wedding band. “I’m not drinking because I’m pregnant, Brock,” you repeated, your voice cracking.

“Are you sure?” he asked. You felt a twinge in your heart, but you knew you really couldn’t be upset with him for not being sure. It had been a year and a half and there had been more than once where you both thought it was finally it, that it had finally taken.

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I took a test the other day, after you had asked me if I was going to. God, I wasn’t expecting anything different, Brock. I wasn’t expecting anything,” you said. “But three minutes was up, and I turned the test over,” his hand tightened almost imperceptibly around yours, “and I saw a plus sign. I’ve never seen one before, Brock, it’s never been positive.” You didn’t realize you had started crying until Brock reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding yours, wiping away a tear that had fallen onto your cheek. “But I didn’t want to get my hopes up again. Not until I was sure. So I found a midwifery center online, called — thank God they had a cancellation — and went in yesterday. I wanted to get it confirmed, but I didn’t want to do anything without you. I didn’t even look at the ultrasound, all I had her tell me was that everything looked absolutely perfect for seven weeks along.”

It was your husband’s turn for tears now, neither of you paying any mind to the deafening countdown that was happening just steps away. “You’re really pregnant?”

You nodded again. “We have an appointment again in two days. They’re going to show us the heartbeat.”

That was what broke him, bringing Brock down to his knees in front of you, his hand slipping from yours as he brought it up to rest on your lower stomach. Where his baby was. Where your baby was. “I’m finally going to be a dad,” he said, as if the knowledge that both of your lives would be changed forever come next July was just now hitting him, as if he’d never known purpose and fulfillment quite on the same level until you spoke those words to him.

You knelt down next to him, dropping a kiss on his lips just as the clock struck midnight. It wasn’t like any kiss you had ever shared before, not overwhelmed with passion or desire or want, nor the small, steady sort of kisses you had grown to love in your years as a married couple, the kind that said you’re my best friend in not so many words. This was a kiss of adoration, of devotion, of pure reverence for your husband and the life you had finally created together. “We’re having a baby.”

#hockey fanfic #hockey writing #brock boeser #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #nhl writing #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #realized four hours after posting that I never added a title oops

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ellethinblue · 4 years

Text

Missing Heart (Isaac Lahey/Reader)

I wrote a little something, I’m pretty sure no one will read it but it’s here and it’s cheesy while also a bit angsty.

I use female pronouns

1,971 words

-----

He had left without a word.

He had talked to her that day, the day he left, and he didn’t say anything about moving away.

She went to Scott’s house the next day to look for him.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m sorry… he moved to France.”

Nothing would have prepared her for the feeling of her heart stumbling across the wooden floor, as if searching for him.

He called her when he’d gotten settled, knowing that she would be confused and hurt but the call just went to voicemail. He considered leaving a voicemail, but realized that if she didn’t want to answer his calls, she’d delete a voicemail at the sight of his name or a foreign number. He called Scott asking if he could find out why she wouldn’t answer his calls.

“She said that if there was anything you wanted to tell her, you should have told her before you left.”

Whenever anyone talked about their past adventures, and his name would come up, she didn’t close herself off. Instead she would speak of those memories with a smile, to give the illusion of being fine, but her heart had withered while trying to find a way to him.

No one suspected a thing, fooled by smiles and laughter.

That is, until between life-threatening situations, she had managed to arrange a successful sleepover between the whole pack. Her phone had been laying on the table between them all, she had been talking to Lydia when her phone buzzed. She hadn’t noticed it, but her hyperactive friend did.

“Hey someone’s calling you.” Stiles called to her.

She turned from her conversation with a smile, but it faded when she saw the number. “Thanks.” She grabbed the phone and declined the call, turning off her phone before turning back to Lydia and continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened.

Scott noticed the number as Stiles handed her the phone, saw the quick flash of pain and annoyance in her eyes before it disappeared. And he realized, maybe his friend wasn’t truly okay.

“Please pick up.” Isaac muttered as he called her for probably the thousandth time.

“You’d think you would have gotten it through your head by now.” She muttered to herself as she saw the incoming call again.

Decline

She’d had reached her breaking point when instead of calling, he texted her an essay. She didn’t read it, she deleted after marking it as read.

“Here save my new number.” She told her friends.

“Why do you have a new number?” Lydia asked, subtly glancing at Scott, who had questioned her about their friend.

“Changed provider, it was cheaper.” She easily responded.

“The number you have dialed is not in service, please check the number and try your call again.”

“Fuck!” Isaac yelled as the phone fell out of his grip and onto the bed.

He had pushed her with the message. He knew it. Or maybe she had been in danger and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

He shouldn’t have left her.

“Hello?” Scott answered.

“Is she okay?” Isaac immediately asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?”

“Her phone isn’t in service.”

“She changed her number.”

“Oh.”

“Hey man, sorry, but these calls are expensive.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Isaac muttered before hanging up.

There was a knock on her door one weekend when she was alone.

“Hey.”

“Scott? Is something wrong?” She immediately asked at his curious expression. She motioned him in, seeing Stiles looking over from his kitchen window next door. She shrugged her shoulders at his raised eyebrows.

“You changed your number.” Scott stated when they were both seated.

“Yeah… we were texting last night, what about it?”

“But it wasn’t because it was cheaper, was it?”

“Yes it was.” Scott was confused for a moment, realizing she wasn’t lying, but he remembered his own conversation with Isaac.

“Isaac called me last night, worried that something had happened to you, because your phone wasn’t in service.” She didn’t respond, “and long distance calls are expensive. You never picked up the phone but he always called you.” She looked down at her trembling hands. “And it hurts because he left without saying anything.” She nodded, tears filling her eyes but not falling. “Maybe you should talk to him, and get the closure you need, not for his sake, but for yours.”

“Everything I want to say to him, I want to say face to face. There’s nothing I want to say through a call or through text. And there’s nothing I’m willing to listen from him through a call, or even through text.”

“Has he? Texted you I mean.” She nodded, “what did he say?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, I deleted it, if he can’t say it to my face, its lies.”

Scott nodded in understanding before getting up from his own seat, but instead of heading to the door, he sat at her side and held her.

The dam behind her eyes broke and the tears flooded her face.

“I loved him Scott, I loved him so damn much, and he just left as if I didn’t matter.” She sobbed. “Why would he do that to me?” Her voice cracked with the pain she felt.

“I don’t know.” Scott murmured as he held her shaking body, rubbing her back in reassurance.

Isaac never called any of them again.

What he did do, was fly back home.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Scott told him after Isaac knocked on his door.

“I- I have to try.”

Before going to her house, Isaac stopped by a florist, buying her white roses, he stopped by a market, buying her favorite snacks, and he stopped by her favorite restaurant, buying her favorite meal. When he arrived at her house, he noticed the light of her room being the only one on, meaning her parents were out of town as they always were. He knocked on her door, and when she opened the door, he couldn’t help but stare. He was only knocked out of his reverie when the door slammed shut.

He heard the thumping of her heart through the door.

Her heart was there, at his feet, jumping in joy as if to say ‘Look! I found him!’ But her heart had been gone for far too long, was that still what she wanted?

Was he still who she needed?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I will spend my whole life apologizing to you, just please let me in.” He begged.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to slap him.

She wanted to hold him.

She wanted to yell.

She sat on the stairs in front of the door, staring at it as if he would magically not be there. But she could hear him pacing, and see him running his hand through his hair through the frosted glass.

“Please open the door. I just- I need to see you.”

“Have you ever considered what I need?”

“No. God, I know I’ve been beyond selfish, and I’ve never deserved you, but please give me a chance to speak. You said there’s nothing you want to hear from me that isn’t face to face. This is me here for that, for you.”

The door opened a second after he finished speaking, and he stepped back shocked that what he had said had worked.

She hadn’t expected to see tears speeding down his face.

“I brought you flowers.” He murmured, as his eyes roamed her face.

“Um, thanks.” She said, hesitantly grabbing the flowers from his awkwardly extended hand. “Come in.”

Isaac picked up everything he had brought and stepped into the house. “I also brought you food and some snacks, um, Scott told me that you were supposed to eat with the them today but assumed you wouldn’t go, because well- because of me… Is that Scott’s sweater?” Isaac said after his attention wouldn’t leave the sweater that hung off her shoulders.

“Yes, it is, does it matter?” She snapped as she sat on the same couch where Scott had consoled her.

“No, no. Sorry. It doesn’t matter,” Isaac rushed out as he sat across from her. “Actually, it does matter, to me it does, are you with him? Are you two together now?”

“It shouldn’t matter, you left. But no, we’re not.” With her words it was as if a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“I made a mistake. And I wish I could take it back. I never should have left Beacon Hills. I never should have left you. It got to me, it was too much-“

“And it wasn’t too much for us? For Stiles, for Scott, for me? Stiles and I are just human and we’ve been in this mess since Peter bit Scott. And yeah, losing our normal lives, and losing our friends has been too much for us, but we do it together. Because together we’re stronger. And you just left, as if our pack didn’t matter.”

“The pack does matter to me, I needed some time away from Beacon Hills.”

“Did I matter to you?”

“Yes! So much!”

“Then why would you leave without telling me? I was your girlfriend and you didn’t tell me!” Her chest heaved as she yelled.

“I don’t know. I don’t- I really don’t know.”

“Please just get out. If that’s the answer I get for you stomping all over my heart, you shouldn’t have come back.”

“No, I can do better!”

They heard the door being unlocked and in stepped Stiles, “Hey I heard yelling, is everything ok- oh.” Stiles froze at seeing Isaac’s familiar curly hair facing away from him and seeing her teary eyes staring straight at him. “I was heading to the jeep when I heard yelling. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever is going on here…. I’m… just gonna… go. I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks Stiles.”

After Stiles was gone, Isaac turned to look at her, “I can’t promise you that I’ll never hurt you again, because I’m not a good person and honestly I don’t know why you hadn’t left me-“

“Before you left me.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you left then? Because you didn’t think you deserved me?”

Isaac realized that that was the true reason he had left, and the realization showed on his face, “It was.”

“Life isn’t about deserve, we choose that which we care about and hold on tight. You think all this bad stuff that happens to us in Beacon Hills is because we deserve it? Do you think people deserve to die? Do you think that I deserved what you did to me? No. People deserve much better than they get, but they get what they need and sometimes what they want. And I needed you.”

“Do you?”

“Do I still need you?” Isaac hesitantly nodded, “No.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t need you Isaac. I needed you then.”

“Right… Um, I guess I’ll go.” Isaac got up and started walking to the door.

Her heart ran away from Isaac and threw itself at her chest.

“But I do love you.” Isaac’s head snapped in her direction. “And, I’m really going to hate myself if I let you walk away. Because I do want you in my life.” She stood up from her seat.

“I love you.” Isaac breathed out as he stepped towards her, “I love you so much.”

He tried kissing her, but she put her hands up, “I love you, but if you do something that stupid again, I don’t care that you’re a werewolf I will kick your ass and make Lydia a wolf fur scarf.”

“I know.” Isaac chuckled as a happy tear sped down his face.

Her heart hugged his heart, shining gold as their people embraced.

I couldn’t help but make it a happy ending, I just love that man.

#teen wolf #isaac lahey #elle thinks she can write #something i wrote #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fic

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sorenskyhigh · 4 years

Text

What Pet I Think They'd Have and Why: Karasuno Edition

Daichi Sawamura

Of course he'd have a police dog

He's a cop and if he'd have any pet he'd have a buddy to help him bust criminals and fight crime

But I don't think Daichi would have a "normal" dog breed like a German Shepherd, Malinois, or Akita

I feel like Daichi would have a Rottweiler not bc they are my favorite dog breed

But Rottweilers used to be very prevalent in many police forces around the world until German Shepard and Malinois became more common

Also Rottweilers gained a harsh reputation for being aggressive bc they were trained by drug lords and criminals and were used to in fighting

Rottweilers are very muscular, sturdy, and hard working dogs

If trained right and with proper love and care these dogs are GREAT and I mean GREAT companions

They are stubborn and can be territorial with strangers, but, they are very loving towards familiars and family

They are a kind of one or two people fits them kind of dog

They also need constant stimulus as they were breed to be very hardworking dogs

Rottweilers used to pull sleds full of butchered meat bc they were so strong and the original breed was much bigger than the one we know today

They also herded large livestock through the alps and Roman region and are known to be fearless

They are also one of the oldest dog breeds

These dogs became popular Police dogs during the World Wars

Bc they were being used so much their guardian qualities were more showcased so more and more people wanted one to help keep and eye on their children

Since they are herding dogs they are good around children and can keep them in a yard if they are taught the parameters

Rottweilers despite their size generally don't bark a lot either, they are very sneaky when approaching a possible threat and will ppun e from behind

This is why I think Daichi would have one to be by his side

I feel like Daichi would do a lot of research into a good companion and finding a good breeder to find one after deciding

He'd get one as a puppy and personally see to it's training, working with a pro the whole time

His dog would also be a great family protector when he's home with his spouse and possible children, if he ends up having any

Koushi Sugawara

I feel like Koushi would be that really awesome teacher that has a really sweet and sociable pet that he brings in for the kids a lot

I feel Koushi would want soemthing small and cute so a rabbit of some sort would suit him well

Rabbits can be very loving with a small family most of the time or sometimes only one person

Rabbits are prey animals so some breeds wouldn't do well in a loud room full of young children

So what specific rabbit breed would suit his job?

So I chose the Harlequin Rabbit for Koushi

Harlequin rabbits are very social and loving towards owners and strangers alike

They also are known to be very silly, playful and very intelligent

They come in two colour types: Japanese and Magpie

The picture above is an example of Japanese while a Magpie can be colored in just about any other colour other than black nd orange like lilac, white, chocolate, blue and/or black

I feel like this specific type of rabbit would suit him so well as it would be comfortable around all those kids

Be very social and would be less likely to nip them

And it would be energetic enough to keep up with the kids

Koushi wouldn't just want a pet for his classroom though, he'd want a cuddle buddy for at home

He'd want a companion to sit on his lap while he works on lessons

He'd also want a pet that wasn't too lazy as his life would be pretty busy

The only thing is is that rabbits are high maintenance and need very specific foods, medicines, and an experienced vet to care for them

But rabbits are cuddly little crackheads that Koushi would adore

Energetic enough to keep up with his life, but snuggly and home bodied enough to not exhaust him

Asahi Azumane

Asahi is a fashion designer and thus would spend a lot of time hunched over a sketch book making designs

In other words, he has a very home based and indoor job

So he'd need a pet that isn't energetic and obnoxious like a husky or chihuahua

So I chose the Havanese

Havanese is the national dog of Cuba

This dog may be small but they are incredibly sturdy

These dogs become attached quickly and are extremely loyal to said lone owner

Something else that is good for Asahi is these dogs do not do good alone and are willing to follow their owners to the ends of the Earth

They can be described as velcro dogs bc of how attach to the hip with their owners they are

These dogs can be lively and active but they don't need much exercise as they are smaller

Most of their daily exercise can be met in a house with some light play

Also, these dogs are extremely friendly towards strangers and can be described as good host dogs

Another plus for Asahi about this breed is they aren't particularly vocal, most are rather quiet and reserved almost

The last thing you'd want is for people to look down on you for letting your pet act spoiled by barking and nipping at people's ankles

They also love to perform for others

They like attention and are good in groups

Asahi would have to meet with a lot of new people like models and companies and whatnot so a social dog would be best

Asahi also would spend a lot of time in an office or at home and since these dogs don't need much exercise he would be able to have it sleep on his lap while he works without disturbance

I also feel like Asahi would become a bit of a hermit

Like he would contact people but he wouldn't leave his house unless he absolutely had to or wanted to (which isn't often)

Havanese are home-bodied dogs and love just chillin' out on a warm lap or on a couch cushion beside their owners

Yū Nishinoya

Now I DO NOT think Noya should have a pet until he decides to settle down somewhere

Travel can really exhaust a person so it would harm an animal tenfold

So, if you travel a lot DO NOT GET A PET IT WILL ONLY HARM THEM

But if Yū were to have a pet.............................

Noya would need a pet that can travel well, is small enough to not cost a lot, is very attached to their owners, and can eat just about anything

I thought briefly of other rodents since rodents are generally small and can eat just about any food

But raccoons, possums, and other larger rodents that are more common for pets would be too hard to get on planes and boats since you need certification to own them

Rats on the other hand don't need such certifications in most countries and fill all the other requirements

The rat he would have isn't a Dumbo rat like in the picture above, he'd have like a wild rat that he befriended and decided to take with him so it'd most like be brown

Noya would 100% fight anyone who says they hate rats

He hypes up his pet rat to no end

He calls Asahi whenever he can and tells him about all the cool stuff his rat does and sends pictures of his rat being held up to a gorgeous background of famous landmarks in other countries

Nlya always has his rat around the back of his neck and wears a hoodie, scarf, or something like that to hide him so he can join Noya in places that don't allow pets

I also chose a rat bc they are incredibly loyal and I feel like if Noya were to be really tired on a plane and pass out, he would need a pet that he wouldn't have to worry about running away

Of course he has trained his rat to do amazing tricks, you already know

Also, as I previously mentioned, rats can eat just about anything, so his constant travel wouldn't hurt his companion diet

Rats are also quiet generally and aren't overly energetic so he wouldn't have to be worried about being escorted out for having a rat under his scarf

Chikara Ennoshita

Shibas are very independent dog, let's just start with that bc Chikara would need a pet that doesn't need constant attention

With him being a personal trainer he needs a pet that can self entertain

Something else about Shibas is they can often housebreak themselves bc of how fussy and finicky they are

You can also find them cleaning themselves much like a cat

Chikara would be busy for a good bit of his time so he doesn't really have time to properly spend time to housebreak a pet

But Shibas were originally bred to hunt and flush out game like birds and rabbits and other such small animals

A fact about Shibas is they almost went extinct during WWII bc of food shortages a distemper

Distemper is a disease only animals can be affected by that attacks many different systems in their bodies

Also, Shibas are the number one most common companion dog in Japan

Something else about Shibas is that they are fairly healthy, some of the more major problems they have are glaucoma, cataracts, hip dysplasia, entropion, and luxating patella

A lot of eye conditions but are easily avoided if you bring them in for very periodic eye checks and hip examinations

So these are easy to avoid as long you keep an eye on them

Over all I think that if Chikara were to have a pet it would need to be fairly self-sufficient but also something could have a very chill and laid back relationship with

Something that doesn't need to be on his lap all the time but something he can love and nurture

Kiyoko Shimizu & Ryūnoske Tanaka

Now I know I know

Ryu would be a dog person

He'd want a big manly pet not a cat blah blah blah

Kiyoko would definitely be a cat person

She wouldn't want a purebred and would probably find a box of some kittens with Ryu on the side of the sidewalk

Now look me in the eye and lie to me by saying that Ryu would now start crying immediately upon seeing like four lonely little kittens in a box that need a home

Needless to say, they take them home and nurture them endlessly

But Tanaka would be the kind of guy that harness trains his cats so they can go out on walks

Kiyoko would research how to harness train them, what food would be the best, and anything else they need to take care of these four cats

Imagine seeing these two, a big muscular dude and this goddess walking four cats on harnesses down the street

I literally cannot stop thinking about Ryu and Kiyoko cuddling on the couch with all four adult and rather large cats draping themselves across the two of them

I feel like the reason Ryu would want them harness trained is bc he wouldn't be able to spend much time with them

His job as a personal trainer would keep him busy

So on his morning jogs to stay fit he'd want to take not only Kiyoko but the cats as well

I plan on making more parts to this, I hope you enjoy it 😉

@popcorntime-doodles @multifandombrainrot @kneecapstealingalien @akabxne @jiheonity @weareallhumans123 @smallmangi @canadian-crow @just-jellyfish @immiamarais @i-need-coffee-now-pls @foreveryoung050 @kuroos-world @luminasapphire @silverfire6 @shadowsbutdead @ghostexhibit @simpfornishinoya @goshikisimp @anothershadeofpink @mestayanon @japoga @all-around-fandoms31 @thatfunnysprout @myyeetfelloff @itsallgonnabokayihope @g00s3 @boreateo @mirrorballmyfave @backalley-astrologer @vaniatslover @lil-mellow-bunbun @strawberrymakki @theforbiddenrealm-blog @beelziee @mehreenlol

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #asahi azumane #yu nishinoya #ennoshita chikara #kiyoko shimizu #tanaka ryuunosuke #daichi headcanon #suga headcanons #asahi headcanons #nishinoya headcanons #ennoshita headcanons #kiyoko headcanons #tanaka headcanons

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britishassistant · 3 years

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Experiences Culture Shock

The Hannya of the Gracey and its Kitsune.

Tricky, cruel, deceptive, jealous, ungrateful.

That’s what you’ve been called ever since Nanji settled. It’s been whispered behind your backs and said outright to your faces.

Ever since Chichiue told you to take a more appropriate form if you both were going to eat dinner properly with the family, and his eyebrows drew down when you stuttered out that you were trying, you were, but Nanji couldn’t change back from the red fox that quailed under the glare of Chichiue’s eagle.

You were sent to their room in the middle of the meal because of that, Asahiko-nii-sama’s exaggerated faces of disgust, Leota-nee-sama’s quiet yet smug vindication and Enji-nii-sama’s open glares of disapproval following you both as you left.

Seven isn’t an…uncommon age for a dæmon to settle. Unusual, to be sure, enough to raise and lower eyebrows, prompt the start of a inquiry before the asker remembers which family they’re about to question.

But it’s just edging into more common for “early bloomers” that it’s usually assumed that you were closer to eight than seven when Nanji did settle. Besides, there are kids out there who have had their dæmons settle at younger ages, after all.

All the studies you’ve read say this phenomenon is near uniformly a result of a traumatic event or hostile living environment. But that’s probably more of a generalization than anything.

Still. At least the names and insults weren’t so bad. They were just words after all.

At least the people using them would steer clear. Keep at least a two foot distance between themselves, the Hannya of the Gracey, and its Kitsune. As though you and Nanji actually had any power to curse anyone with.

At least they wouldn’t try to keep fucking touching your dæmon every five minutes.

So pause. Rewind a bit. You and Nanji and your old middle school crush and his dæmon (who you’ve certainly gotten over, and who does not look any better than he had in middle school now his Sonata has settled, thank you very much) have been transported to another world. This world is called Twisted Wonderland.

The people of this world are soulless assholes.

Because none of them have dæmons.

And the vast majority of them you have met so far are assholes, in some shape or form.

You have yet to ascertain whether the latter is dependent on the former.

And yet they keep acting like normal people in spite of this absence, rather than the traumatized wrecks that are in textbooks in history class, all dead-eyed and unresponsive. So maybe there’s something to the headmaster’s claim that their dæmons are…inside them, somehow.

Though that just gives you the awful mental image of a person lifting a mouse or an insect dæmon to their lips and just…swallowing. Nanji nips your hand for putting that lovely idea in both your heads.

But back to the topic at hand: The people here don’t have dæmons. They have never had dæmons. So it’s understandable that initially all of them don’t quite understand that there’s a difference between them and just another talking animal, like Grim.

That it is NOT OKAY to try to scoop them up or punt them around like they do to Grim (and honestly, you’re not really okay with them doing that to Grim either— it’s why you and Yuuken trade off who has the monster cat perched on their shoulders or in their arms and out of harm’s way whenever you both can). That’s just down to cultural differences. You can understand it, if you cock your head, squint your eyes, and are very, very sleep-deprived.

What is not understandable is the assholes who think it’s hilarious to try to keep touching Sonata and Nanji even after you’ve repeatedly told them “no”.

Some of that might be Nanji’s fault. Though at the time it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea, considering how many curious would-be touchers immediately jerked away and lost interest permanently after he blurted out, “It’s a sex thing!!”

(It’s not exactly a sex thing, more of an intimacy thing at most. But there’s something much more visceral and back-the-fuck-off about “touching a dæmon is like shoving your hands down a stranger’s pants” compared to “touching a dæmon is the realization of a very deep and intimate bond between you and your partner”.)

But of course, many is not all.

And there’s always going to be some assholes who think that seeing how easily they can get away with harassment is a “fun game” rather than a creepy and messed up power play. Just like back home.

Yuuken and Sonata have it much worse than you and Nanji.

You’d thought the muskox form she settled into was noble, dignified, a perfect embodiment of Yuuken’s diligence and strength. (No, it has not made your crush on him worse, shut up.)

The only problem is that a muskox is not as small a creature as a fox. So while you can physically pick up Nanji and move him out of reach if some punks decide they want to cause trouble, poor Sonata has no such defense. She has to move away if they get between her and Yuuken, and their distance limit is so much smaller than your own, and both of them look so trapped—

It surprises everyone but Nanji and yourself when you take a page from Deuce’s book and ball your fist up to punch the asshole trying to bury his hand in the thick fur of Sonata’s flank.

The resulting crack is not from the asshole’s nose breaking, unfortunately.

You haven’t ever really punched anybody before, hadn’t ever been in a situation where you were justified in your retaliation.

Of course you manage to fuck it up on your first try.

Nanji does not thank you for the resulting limp in his one good leg until your hand and his paw heals, even if he understands why you did it. You give him lots of petting in apology, carefully avoiding the spots where his fur is now patchy and the skin is ridged with scars.

(And isn’t that a fun experience, whenever the ex-overblots’ eyes wander over him, catch sight of what they inflicted on you both, and suddenly can’t look at anything else fast enough. None of them have actually, explicitly apologized to either of you for it.)

Yuuken and Sonata hover over you both like concerned mother hens, despite how often and repeatedly you tell them this is not their fault and you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Sonata actually offers to let Nanji ride on her back while he heals.

You try joking you’d get jealous, so it’d be better not to, only for Yuuken to offer to piggyback you around campus as well.

Ace teases you mercilessly for how strangled you sound when you squeak out that that won’t be necessary, and Nanji buries his head under his tail and refuses to come out for the rest of the day.

Deuce is more concerned with teach you how to throw a punch properly, so you don’t hurt yourself next time.

Jack provides Nanji with a smaller version of the splint he sometimes uses if he hurts his paws when in Wolf Mode, which does help a bit, even if it does feel slightly surreal to feel the phantom press of the medical implement on your hand.

Grim delights in setting the assholes on fire whenever they’re within reach. Whether he can get away with it is another factor he doesn’t seem willing to take into consideration.

Crowley scolds him and the rest of Ramshackle by extension for “violent behavior on school premises”, and resorts to subtly threatening to cut off your food money whenever you try to pressure him to actually do something about your harassers, as though it’s somehow your and Yuuken’s faults for having dæmons.

As though it’s Sonata and Nanji’s faults for existing.

You resort to scribbling increasingly insulting caricatures of the stupid birdbrain headmaster for your theory wall to vent your frustration, in absence of any concrete way to get back at him. Nanji chews the cushion in your armchair to near rags as you pin them to the wall with more force than is strictly warranted.

Yuuken and Sonata turn out to be far more proactive than you when it comes to dealing with grudges of this kind.

Or, at least, more willing to go along with plans that allow them to do so.

You know Ace had a hand in it. His brand of vindictiveness and humiliation is pretty distinctive. Ortho is also clearly a culprit, thanks to the technological mishaps that had one of your tormentors in actual tears. From the garish, clashing pink and petty sparkles that have been added to Crowley’s attire, you’re fairly sure Epel was involved too.

Sebek…is a participant you’re on the fence about, for his conflicting claims that it was a childish prank to pull on the bullies and headmaster and that both parties had whatever fate they now suffered coming to them. Even if he wasn’t directly involved, you’re pretty sure he was in on it enough to not spill the details.

But the sudden influx of logs, which would require someone with an above average level of strength and/or the help of an animal that specialized in moving large burdens over distance?

Combined with the fact that Jack and Deuce were as mystified as you, Grim, and Nanji at the results of the prank?

Well, even if Yuuken hadn’t shot you a subtle wink (which most certainly did not have your cheeks heating, no sir) in Ramshackle’s kitchen while the two of you prepared dinner to the sound of Sonata’s quiet laughter, you’re pretty sure you would’ve worked it out sooner or later.

For now, you and Nanji are just glad that they’re both here with you to help navigate this Twisted Wonderland of soulless assholes.

Even if some of them aren’t as bad as the others.

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kaznejis · 4 years

Text

Vignettes- Marco Peña x reader

Anonymous asked: just some like cute fluff with marco, maybe like different stages of your relationship. like first date, kiss, first time, just cute lil fluff like that.

Anonymous asked: I feel like you’re one of the few people who write Marco x readers that I love, so can I request your typical how you meet, first kiss etc imagines xx

A/N: Thanks for sending these in, I decided to get through two requests with this one. Sorry that I haven’t posted anything in the last week or so, I’ve been away but I am at home now and promise to be much more active! For those who have sent in a request, expect to see it on here sometime soon. :)

Also, I gave your parents names in order to make the story flow much better- if those are your parents names then lucky for you, haha!

Feel free to send in any requests!

Vignette- A brief evocative description, account or episode

“Hey Y/N, grab one of these boxes for me?”

“Sure thing, Dad.” You wiped dust from your hands as you hauled another box that was stacked before the now-empty moving truck.

“Thanks,” He grinned from the doorway, wiping the sweat that clung to his forehead as he did, “Once you’ve moved that into the kitchen I have some bad news for you.”

“Okay,” You spoke slowly, blowing a hair from your face as you deposited the (admittedly heavy) box onto the kitchen floor before joining your dad in the hallway, “What’s up?”

“Your mother contacted some nearby families before we came here; long story short we are eating dinner with one of them tonight.”

“You’re kidding?” You groaned, running a hand through your messy hair as you pictured the state of your appearance.

“You’ll have time to fix yourself up,” Rolling his eyes, your dad had practically read your mind, “Think about it, we don’t even have furniture right now let alone food.”

“True,” You sighed, “When are we going?”

“Six.”

“Wait-” You spun to stare grab your phone and check the time, “That’s in two hours!?”

“Better get moving.” Your dad laughed as you sped up the stairs toward the bathroom.

Luckily, you did manage to get ready in time and at 5:52 your family stood on the porch of a large house only a few blocks from yours. Shifting the bottle of champagne that served as a piece offering into the crook of your arm as you moved to knock on the door, the three of you twitched nervously in anticipation.

Eventually the door swung open and light flooded the porch that had been previously lit by a few dim garden-lights. A thin, dark-haired woman stood on the other side of it- a bright smile adorning her features.

“Welcome,” She laughed, beckoning you all inside, “It’s freezing out here. Come in, come in!”

“Thankyou so much for having us,” Your mum smiled as she took the bottle from you and offered it towards the woman, “We don’t really have anything to cook with but I hoped that this would be enough.”

“oooh Anna, thankyou very much,” She placed the bottle down and pulled your mother into a tight hug- doing so caused her to spot you and your father loitering awkwardly in the hallway, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Laurel, Laurel Pena.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Chris” Your father stepped forward, engaging in a side-hug with Laurel before gesturing towards you, “And this is our daughter Y/N” You smiled awkwardly and gave a timid wave.

“Y/N! Your mother has told me so much about you, come here and give me a hug.” She did so, the hug was warm and comforting- washing away any awkwardness you had originally felt, “Now, let’s go meet the rest of the family.”

Turning down the hallway, Laurel led the three of you towards what was presumably the dining room- noise and light erupted from the room as the activity of a family preparing for dinner bustled from it. Smiling reassuringly, Laurel turned into the room and at the sight of guests the family paused- each member turning toward you.

“The guests have arrived.” Laurel cheered, throwing her arms in the air as the whole family erupted into greeting. Laurel quickly jumped to introduce the each of you to the other family and vice versa. As she moved around the table, you noticed a boy around the same age as you watching you, a small smirk on his face. Chewing on your lip in an attempt to calm the nerves the gaze penetrating the side of your face caused, you willed the eruptions of want that sunk into your spine to stop.

Eventually, Laurel placed her hands on the back of the boys chair, “...and this is my son, Marco.” She ruffled his hair before turning to the seat beside him. “I noted that the two of you are the same age so I thought that it would be great that you sit beside him Y/N.”

Cocking his head to the side, Marco stared at you as he awaited your reaction. You simply bit your tongue and let out a harsh outtake of breath in an attempt to steady your voice, “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

“Great!” Laurel then moved to show your parents to their seats, “Now, I will go and get the last of the food- everyone feel free to tuck in!”

Lowering yourself into the chair hesitantly. you watched as the table began digging into the copious amount of food that littered the table upon different variations of plates and bowls. Marco reached for a dish before him, causing the toned muscles of his arms to flex beneath the short-sleeved shirt that he wore. Turning the skirt of your dress between your fingers and swallowing harshly, you composed yourself before turning to fill your plate with the food that surrounds you.

“She always goes all out whenever we have guests.”

“Hm?” You hummed, turning towards the voice beside you as you hadn’t quite heard what he said.

“My mother,” He smiled fondly, which was a really good look on him, “She always goes all out with the food- we usually have about a quarter of this during normal meals.”

You spluttered out a laugh, reaching to cover your mouth as he grinned at you in triumph, “Well, I’m honoured.”

“You should be,” He snorted around a mouthful of food, “She hasn’t spent that much time cooking in months.” At that, you both continued to converse throughout the night as you both became familiar with each other. You and Marco shared a number of interests and you weren’t going to lie about the fact that you had originally found him extremely attractive anyway- these factors only deepened the feelings you already felt towards Marco.

Apparently, Marco had felt exactly the same.

As the night came to a close and everybody had separated to different rooms in the house, Marco had pulled you aside and asked the question that would start everything, “Would you consider going out with me sometime?”

ii.

You said Yes, of course.

Though the date didn’t end up happening until a few weeks later- you needed time to settle into the new house and become familiar with the local area.

You vividly remembered Marco’s grin when you had gone over to his house and told him that you were ready for the date he had promised you. He had bounded around like an excited puppy, pulling you into a joy-filled hug as his arms squeezed your sides.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 11,” He had beamed, staring down at you as he slowly pulled his arms from around you, “I can’t wait.”

It was now ‘tomorrow’ and you anxiously waited beside your window- every time a car pulled up you would jump in anticipation, even if it was approximately an hour before Marco had arranged to pick you up. Chewing on your nails, you moved away from the window and walked over to the mirror in order to check over your appearance; continuing the cycle you had been performing over the last hour or so.

Just as you begun to settle the nerves that flooded your mind, a car horn sounded from outside the house. Speeding back to your window, you set your gaze upon Marco who was moving to lean against his car. Taking a deep intake of breath and patting down your summer dress one last time, you left your room and headed towards the door.

“Wow!” Marco exclaimed as soon as you stepped down from the entrance to the house, “You look beautiful.”

You laughed, feeling a heated hue of colour filling your cheeks, “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

You weren’t wrong, Marco wore an unbuttoned plait shirt paired with a black top and ripped jeans- he didn’t look too bad; he looked hot. Marco just shrugged his shoulders and opened the passenger door for you, a content grin on his face.

“So what actually are we doing today?” You inquired as you slid into the seat, looking over at Marco as he shut the drivers side door behind him.

“I was going to keep it a secret,” He laughed as he manoeuvred the car out onto the road, “But it’s nothing too big, I thought it would be fun to go bowling and then grab something to eat.”

“Bowling?” You giggled childishly, “I haven’t been bowling in years.”

“Well then,” He grinned at the sound of your laughter, “There’s a pretty high chance that I’ll beat you.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed, shoving him softly (mindful of the fact that he was driving), “That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m bad at it.”

“Well then we’ll just have to see how it goes.”

“Game on.”

In the end, Marco did win the game. It turned out that bowling was a regular for Marco’s family- meaning he had years of experience against your lack of.

After your pathetic defeat, you sat together in a booth within the restaurant that was connected to the bowling complex- each with a burger and a shared plate of curly fries.

“You know what Marco,” You swallowed the abundance of greasy food in order to speak easily, “I had fun today.”

“You did?” He smiled widely, staring at you intently, “Well, I did too.”

“Well I mean, you did plan the date.”

He continued to stare at you for a beat. as if he was contemplating- then once his mind was apparently made up; he smacked a salt-covered kiss to your cheek, “Whatever.” He mumbled cheekily after doing so.

You grinned shyly at Marco, bringing your hand up to brush the area of your cheek that he had kissed, “Ew- You got sauce on my cheek.” Marco broke into a howling laugh that practically crippled his body as you scrubbed at your cheek.

“You’re so cute.” He huffed out as he recovered from his laugh.

“Whatever.” You echoed, twisting your lips bashfully.

“Go out with me again.”

“Slow your roll,” You sipped your drink and winked, “We have to finish this date first.”

iii.

One date turned into two...and eventually three.

Over the two months in which you had now known Marco- you had grown to harbour some intense feelings for the guy. The two of you were in constant contact between dates; texting and calling until the early hours of the morning or simply falling asleep together on facetime. You were adamant that he shared these feelings- giving you the confidence you needed for what you were about to do.

With an arm curled around your shoulder, Marco was walking you home after offering to do so as soon as the movie you had attended came to a close- therefore giving you the opportunity to, well, kiss him.

It had been due to happen since that moment during the first date when Marco had lunged over and smacked a kiss to your cheek- the two of you had been stuck in a limbo of whether or not one of you should make the move. This usually resulted in the end of dates closing on an awkward hug or another cheek kiss.

You were sick of it and taking this much needed step was very much necessary.

“-I just think that the main character should of made a much better choice, do you agree?” Your prolonged train of thought had taken place whilst Marco had gone on a rant about the main protagonist’s moral choices from the cheap, indie movie you had just viewed.

“Yeah,” You grinned up at him as his hands trailed patterns upon your shoulder blades, “I agree.”

“You weren’t listening, were you?” He laughed, though he didn’t seem to be offended nor surprised.

“Sorry,” You snorted out a laugh as he ruffled your hair, “I was trying to listen to you I swear.”

“Well, as long as you tried.” He grinned down at you, moving to encircle his hands around your waist as you came to a stop beneath a fluorescent street-light.

This was it, you thought, as you stared up at Marco’s lips from beneath your lashes under the glow of the light.

Though, it seemed that Marco had been thinking about the same thing. Before you could even begin to lean upward he brought his hand up to cradle your chin with his thumb and forefinger, “Can I?”

You huffed out a soft laugh. “You don’t even have to ask.” And before another word can be uttered, you both met each other in the middle and connected your lips into a slow, sipping kiss that made your heart speed up and your knees weaken.

Eventually the two of you had to pull away for air, as you did so Marco smiled down at you sweetly- with a slight smug look to it, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

You just smiled bashfully up at him, chewing on your slightly-swollen lip lightly, “Me too.”

“Hey,” Marco spoke, throwing his arm back over your shoulder as you set back onto the path, “Does this mean we’re together now?”

“That’s your way of asking?”

“Yep.”

“Alright,” You giggled, tucking yourself into his side, “Sure, we’re together now.”

iv.

“Are you 100 percent positive that you want to do this?” Marco asked sincerely, running his arm up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

“Yeah,” You nodded insistently, reaching up to brush a stray curl from your boyfriend’s forehead, “I want you.”

Marco gulped, his brown eyes darkening ever so slightly, “Are you sure? I mean-”

“Marco, love.” You laughed, shaking him slightly, “We’ve wanted to do this for weeks and this may be the only time in a while that the house is completely empty for the entire night.”

“Okay,” Marco whispered, closing his eyes and toying with the end of your loose shirt, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Sighing, you pulled Marco forward and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead up against his, drawing circles upon his cheek with your thumb, “I know you won’t, I trust you.”

“Good.” Marco mumbled huskily, moving to kiss you again as he lowered you to lay back against the pillows at the top of your bed.

“Fuck,” Marco breathed out as you both lay side-by-side, pliant and sweaty against the bed covers.

“Yeah.” You grinned widely, allowing yourself to roll over and cuddle up against Marco’s side as the endorphins and love hormones produced from sex coursed through you.

“That was good,” Marco grinned, kissing you lightly on the forehead as he pulled you into his arms, “Was that good for you?”

“I loved it,” You sighed, not allowing your mind to catch up before you said what you were about to say, “I love you.”

Marco paused, going still and silent for a moment as you could feel his eyes boring right through you- though he pulled himself back together in a matter of seconds as he let out a glee-filled laugh, “God, I love you too.”

Taglist: @mansaaay @yongboxerrr @the-not-so-iconic @sandovalali12

#Marco Peña #Marco Peña x reader #Marco x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #imagines #the kissing booth 2 #the kissing booth #Marco Peña oneshot #Noah Flynn

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ruthoakenshield · 3 years

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Thorin, Fili, Emma and the Unusual Arrangement - Part 9

[Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8]

This tale is for 18+ readers only.

If smut, angst, fluff, backdoor entry, oral (m&f receiving), and threesome offend you, do NOT read below the cut!!!

In this Alternate Universe Hobbit tale, Thorin and Company find an injured Dwarrowdam in the wild who is alone. They take her into the company and heal her, insisting that she stay with them so she stays safe. During the quest, Thorin, Fili and the Dwarrowdam find themselves in an unusual arrangement out of necessity and by the will of the Dwarven god, Mahal. What is the unusual arrangement? Will the arrangement work out? Will the line of Durin survive the Quest and reclaim Erebor?

(I do not claim ownership of any of Tolkien’s characters, languages or places, nor do I claim ownership of Tauriel’s character. )

Sitting there in the cold bathwater you try to relax. You just end up crying and doze off for a bit. The sound of someone knocking wakes you. “Sweetheart, I know you’re in there. Please, let me in so we can talk and work out whatever is bothering you.” You hear Thorin say quietly. You don’t move, and hear him sigh and walk away. The voices from the dining room can faintly be heard and you cry quietly some more. You wish now, that you had your own room and weren’t sharing it with Thorin and Fili.

You are hungry, but aren’t in the mood to eat with the other Dwarves, so you quietly climb out, and pull some travel food from your pack and wrap up in a towel. Pouring yourself a cup of water, you take it and your food and sit on the footstool to eat. As you finish eating, you sit there quietly and drink your water, wondering what to do now. You don’t want to face Thorin and Fili and the other Dwarves yet. You’re tired and you’re still sore ‘down there’, so you shrug off the towel, take your cup and bring it back over to the pitcher of water, and climb back into the tub.

You had just gotten settled, when there’s another knock on the door and Fili’s voice is heard calling for you. You freeze an do not give an answer. Hearing him sigh also and his footsteps walking away, you again, cry quietly. Frustrated that they won’t leave you alone, and that they are too dense to understand what’s upset you, you cry hard. Once you’ve cried yourself out, you lay your head back on the edge of the tub and just try to relax and rest. You hear some Dwarrow talking quietly outside and ignore them.

Another knock disturbs your rest, and you hear Thorin’s voice again asking you to let him in so he can talk with you. You lift your head to look, then sigh quietly and turn your head and gaze at his pack and Fili’s sitting by the bed. A few tears trickle down your cheeks and you wonder if you should set them outside the door. But then you wonder what kind of message it would send to the rest of the company and decide against it. You hear Thorin sigh and Balin’s voice say something and footsteps are heard heading away from the door. You lean your head back and sigh.

You know they are getting worried about you and apparently, Fili and Thorin don’t understand why you’re upset. You pray and ask Mahal for help. You just feel out of sorts, and you need them to understand that they need to be willing to take what they give, or this won’t work.” You sigh and cry quietly. You ache still so you kneel on the floor of the tub and start to massage your shoulder. It’s been giving you a dull ache all morning. Letting it sit below the water level, you gently try to rub it and massage it to ease the ache.

You shift positions and look at the door, while you massage other achy spots on your body and you cry quietly, your shoulders trembling as you do so. “Why are you feeling so miserable?” then you groan and realize it must be getting close to ‘that time of the month’ again. Sighing you decide to get out and dry off.

Once you’re dried, you put on one of your simple dresses from Arwen and wish you could write to her and talk with her. Sighing, you dump out your pack and re-organize it. Re-folding your clothing, and placing everything where it belongs. You look at your two weapons from Lord Elrond and sigh. Trying to figure out where to put them so they aren’t easily found. You remember the warning about Thranduril and are concerned about him or his Elves taking your belongings from you. Removing your boots, you slide them into your boot, so they were along the outer sides of your feet, you slip your feet in carefully so the back of the sheath rests against your foot and ankle. It’s not terribly uncomfortable. It shifts a little as you walk but nothing you can’t handle, so you sit and continue to go through and organize your things.

While you dig in your pack you find a belt and a necklace that weren’t in there before. You look at them closely and wonder where they came from. You notice a groove and follow it around the belt. You realize that on the back of the belt, the little leather straps holding the buckle on actually snaps into place there. Curious as to why someone would put snaps on to hold a belt buckle in place, you flip them open, and the buckle pulls out a little. Your eyes open wide when you realize it’s a little push dagger that is embedded in a hidden sheath at the end of the belt.

You grin, “Oh, Fili, you clever Dwarf!” you quietly say and put it back together. He must’ve made it when he was in Rivendell and slipped it into your bag at some point. Rolling up the belt, you set it with your travel clothes. Next you look at the necklace. It’s a huge gold claw that goes from one side of your collar bone to the other and has multiple fine, gold chains attached to small rings on either end of it. As you look at the intricate patterns worked into the gold of the claw, you realize there’s a thin seam, almost invisible. You place a hand on either side of it and pull in opposite directions gently. At first nothing happens. You tug a little harder and it opens, revealing a white, sharp, claw.

Your eyes open wide when you see Elvish engravings on it. You can’t read it, but you wonder if it’s enchanted or if they are just decorations. You caress the claw, and the engravings glow blue briefly then return to normal. You wonder how it got to be in your pack and who gave it to you. It wasn’t in there when you packed the night before leaving Rivendell. And it certainly wasn’t in there during the trip from Rivendell to here.

Pushing it back together, you hear a soft ‘click’ as it catches, and stays closed. Setting it with your travel clothing, you frown, still pondering where it came from. Next you pick up the flower pendant Lord Elrond gave you as a wedding gift. He had explained that if you take it off and whirl it fast enough it’s petals will open revealing sharp blades that you can use to hurt enemies. The force of you spinning it will trigger it to open, and once you slow the momentum, it will naturally close back up. He showed you how to manually open it to clean it and then reclose it. You thanked him for the ‘hidden weapon’ gift. He grinned and had given you a wink.

You caress it and sigh, grateful for his help in rescuing you and healing you. As you finish packing your things, you look around and frown, wondering what became of your sword and it’s sheath and harness. Your staff is leaning against the cabinet by the door, but you don’t see your sword, sheath and your throwing axes, you realize. You hope they didn’t get left behind in Rivendell.

Sighing, you hear another knock on the door and you groan. “Sweetheart, it’s Balin. May I come in?” he asks. You sigh and unlock the door, cracking it open a little. “What is it, Balin?” you ask tiredly, wishing you had some way to just let the Dwarrow know to just leave you alone. Balin sees how tired you look and your red-rimmed eyes. “Sweetheart, everyone concerned about you. Here, I have some tea and breakfast for you that Bombur saved for you.” He offers, holding up the tray. You sigh and let him enter, stepping aside.

Balin comes in and sees your pack open on the floor and looks up at you worriedly. You close the door and go to sit on the footrest next to the pack. “Don’t worry, Balin,” you say tiredly, seeing the worried look on his face. “…I’m not planning on going anywhere. I was just organizing my things and seeing what I’ll need for the next leg of the journey.” You say quietly and fiddle with a strap on the pack.

Balin sets the tray down on the high dresser and sits on the chair near you. “Lass, what’s going on with you, Fili and Thorin?” he asks. You sigh. “I’m just feeling out of sorts this morning, and was tired of them bringing me near to climax and then they’d back off and not let me cum. So, I gave them a taste of their own medicine and they got upset.” You explain. Balin frowns, “How so, Lass?” he inquires.

Sighing, you explain, “Thorin had shown Fili how to do that to me when we first started training him, and he used it often yesterday, not letting me cum, so he could keep exploring what pleasured me. I didn’t complain because it was his training time and he needed the practice, but it was getting tiring and annoying when he kept doing it once his training was done.

They used it last night and this morning. I guess I’ve just had enough sex for a while and after Thorin got upset with me for turning the tables on them, not letting them cum a few times, when they got close a couple times, after I tried to explain that, like them, I can also return the favor and stop them from cumming or even moving inside me whenever I want if it’s getting to be too much for me and that there’s nothing they can do but wait till I’m ready. He didn’t like that apparently and reprimanded me and smacked me on the ass like I was an insolent pebble instead of his Wife.

I let them finish and once they were done, I got up and locked myself in the bathroom, having had enough of sex and the two of them for a while, and just needed to be alone.” You explain.

“Ahhh, I see.” Balin says rubbing his chin. “Lass, what did you mean by you ‘can stop them from cumming or even moving inside you’?” he asks. You sigh, “Part of the training my Mother gave me for my ‘coming-of-age’ was learning to control my muscles ‘down there’ to do different things. One thing she taught me was to clench a male’s member hard enough to stop them from moving or cumming. She had been raped as a young Dam and never told anyone but me. After that raping, she swore to teach herself to do this so no one ever again could have that kind of control over her. It took her years to perfect it, but she did and often used it to keep my Father in like when he got too much for Amad.

She taught it to me as well, so I’d have some sense of control and not let a Dwarf do things to me that I didn’t like or want. I’ve never had to use it during sex though until now. I’m still learning to control it when I climax though. Sometimes I get kind of lost in the moment and forget how hard I’m clamping down on them and they have to remind me to relax a little. But I don’t do that on purpose. Amad showed me how to do it consciously using a special tool that she made. I got so good at it that I can do it without even thinking about it anymore if I have to.” You explain.

“She told me that it can be used to give a Dwarf pleasure while having sex, but it can also be used to stop him during sex if I felt I needed him to stop.” You explain.

Balin chuckles. “That’s quite a feat, Lass. I’ve not heard of anyone doing that before!” he says. “Is that how you and Fili beat my Brother’s record?” he asks. You giggle and shake your head. “No. It seems that I can just be made to cum back-to-back repeatedly if they keep thrusting after I cum the first time.” you giggle. Balin chuckles. “Lucky them!” he says with a wink. You nod.

You sigh. “Like I said, Balin, I just feel annoyed with them that they won’t take what they give, and get mad at me like that. I’m also moody because I think my ‘bleeding time’ will be arriving soon and I’m worried about us getting captured by Thranduril’s Elves in the forest. I don’t want them to take my pack and weapons away, as I need them, especially my pack if I get my ‘bleeding time’ while we are in the forest.” You explain.

Balin sighs. “If we do get captured, Lass, do NOT let anyone know you are Thorin’s Wife. If anyone asks, tell them you are Fili’s One. Stick with Fili if you can. If Thranduril finds out you are Thorin’s Wife, he might try to use you to get whatever he wants from Thorin. Thorin’s Grandfather and Father angered Thrandy and they’ve had a grudge against each other ever since.

If we are separated from each other, just stay put if you can and we’ll try to find you before we leave. If they take your things, we can always replace them with other things when we get the mountain back. You sigh, “Balin, you won’t be able to replace some of this. I found this in my pack as I was organizing. I don’t know where it came from or who gave it to me, but I don’t think this would be easily replaced. You say, showing him the gold claw necklace.

Balin’s eyes open wide. “Let me see that!” he exclaims. You show it to him, and he looks at it. It’s a dragon’s claw encased in gold! You show him how it opens, and his eyes open even wider seeing the pale claw and the glowing blue runes carved into it when your finger touches the white claw. “Lass, this is a claw from an ice Dragon, a Cold-Drake! They are extinct now! It is one of the few things that can harm a fire drake like Smaug!” he exclaims, “It will freeze anything it cuts or touches. Be it living or not! Though, it won’t kill Smaug, unless you can get it under one of his scales and into his flesh, it can cause his scales to freeze and be easily broken off or removed!” Balin explains.

“These runes here say that it was taken from the front claw of the last ice Drake! It grants the owner of the weapon immunity from it’s effects which means it can’t be used against you and won’t freeze you if you are cut or stabbed with it. It glowing blue, when you touched it means it recognizes you as it’s true owner. If it is touched by someone it does not deem to be it’s owner the runes will glow red in warning.” He explains.

“Balin, how did this get in my pack?” you ask. It wasn’t in there when I left Rivendell and wasn’t in there when I’d dig around in it during our journeying between Rivendell and here!!!” you exclaim. “My guess is Elrond gave it to either Fili or Thorin and the blade rejected them as it’s owner. It is said that the person who killed the last ice Drake was a woman. So perhaps it only accepts females as it’s owners.” Balin explains.

“Keep this around your neck and do not let anyone remove it if you can. If the Elves try to remove it with the intent of stealing it from you, I suspect the blade will not be happy. Weapons made from any part of a Drake are finnicky and typically get upset when stolen from their owners. They have been known to affect the thief even through the sheath that it is kept in if they are enchanted like this one is!” he explains. “I pity any Elf who tries to remove this from your neck. If it angers the blade, that Elf will be immediately frozen and will perish.” He explains.

“No matter what happens, DO NOT surrender this to ANY of Thranduril’s Elves. NO MATTER WHAT!” Balin warns. Lord Elrond gave us this weapon for a reason. If anyone asks why you have it, you tell them it was a gift from Lord Elrond after he found you and healed your shoulder when you were attacked by goblins and wargs along the border of his lands. Alright?” Balin tells you. You nod. “You may need to show them your shoulder to get them to believe you. If you do, be careful they do not see your harnesses’ straps. Hopefully they will not feel them through your clothing. It may be wise to layer up your underclothes as much as possible not only to keep your harnesses hidden, but also so you have clothing if they take your pack and do not return it.” He tells you.

You sigh. “I wish there was another way through Mirkwood.” You say tiredly. “I’m tired of traveling. It’s been nice to just rest here and not have to worry about being attacked.” You say. “You do not have to come with us, Lass. We’ll understand if you wish to wait here for us to reclaim the mountain. Beorn would take good care of you.” Balin tells you.

“No, Balin, I need to stay with my Ones. I’m just needing a break from the intimacy for a while. I’m sore and ache all over from it. Between all the ‘practicing’ the past month and especially the day before yesterday and then yesterday, I guess I’ve had enough for a while.” You explain. “I understand, Sweetheart. It’s been hard on you. But know that we all are extremely grateful to you for agreeing to do this for Fili. Many of us had been praying to Mahal before you appeared, and we were asking him how Fili was going to be trained when Thorin has no mate and we have no female with us.” He explains to you.

You nod. “Oin said the same thing.” You reply. “I know you want to be alone, Sweetheart, but you need to talk with Thorin and Fili about how you are feeling. Locking yourself away only confuses and worries them and doesn’t help the situation at all. It’s alright for a short time if you are angry and need to cool down and think things through, but you need to not let it drag out like this. You need to let them in and talk about things that upset you, so they understand what they are doing that made you feel the way you do.” He encourages.

“Just remember, Sweetheart, they are just as inexperienced as you are. They won’t know unless you tell them clearly what things bother you and what pleases you. If you do not like them keeping you from climaxing that often, you need to just tell them clearly. If they are giving and not receiving the same back, bring it to their attention clearly. We can be rather dense sometimes. You may just have to beat it over their heads to get through… or hold them hostage till they listen.” Balin giggles and gives you a wink.

Sighing, you look down and nod. “Now, I’ll leave you to eat. Oin said to remind you to drink the tea first, then eat.” He says while standing. Balin pats your shoulder gently and says, “When you are ready to talk to them, come out and join us.” He says. You nod and fiddle with your fingers. “Balin?” you ask. He pauses his retreat to the door and turns to look at you. “Yes, Lass?” he replies. “Do you know where my sword and hand axes are? They aren’t with my things and I’m hoping they didn’t get left in Rivendell or lost along the way. The last time I remember seeing them was just before I was attacked by the goblins.” You say.

Balin chuckles, “Don’t worry Lass, my Brother has been keeping them safe for you. Oin won’t let him give them back until he’s fully convinced you’re fit for using them again.” He says. You sigh. “Please inform them both that I refuse to go any further unless they are returned to me. I will not enter that forest without them on me.” You tell him with a frown.

Balin chuckles and nods. “I will tell them, Lass.” He says. Then slips out and closes the door.

You sigh, drink the tea, then eat while you sit and think about what all was talked about. Getting up you pace back and forth in the room. The enchanted daggers shift in your boot and annoy you, so you grab some leather from Thorin’s pack and cut off some thin strips to make a strap to keep them in place in your boot. You slip off your boot and grab the sewing kit from your pack and you sew the straps into the inside of each boot, then slip the daggers’ sheathes back in and they finally stay put and you can comfortably walk with them hidden.

You decide to see if Dwalin will let you practice some sword fighting with him. You feel like you need to blow off some steam, still being annoyed with Thorin and Fili. Looking at what you’re wearing, you slip out of the dress, fold it up carefully and put it with your other dresses, then you put on the harnesses with all your hidden weapons, frowning that the pants and blouse Arwen’s Elves made you didn’t include the access panels. You groan and take a sharp knife and carefully cut into them to make it so you can access each one easily. Once you had that done, then you put the gold Dragon claw necklace on, you take the necklace from Lord Elrond and add it around your neck as well.

It hangs just under the dragon’s claw and has a quick magnetic release so you can just grab the chain and pull for quick use of it. Lord Elrond showed you how to hang onto it so that if it got wound around your enemy’s weapon, you could give it a hard yank and you’d be able to pull the weapon from the enemy’s hand, but if they tried to yank it from your hand, they’d not be able to. You were grateful for the lessons with the weapon. Thorin didn’t know about it as Elrond had his Sons convince Thorin to come and do some forging with them one afternoon.

You slip on the leather fingerless gloves Elrond gave you and the bracers from Elladan. They wanted you to have more leather armor, but when you explained about your hidden weapons stash, they understood why you had such little armor. Elrohir gave you some elegant throwing weapons that you could hide in your thick hair styles, and you grinned and thanked him. Remembering them, you dig around for them and then put your hair into a thick braided bun and pin in in place, then add your weapons into your hair. Grinning, you felt like you were ready.

Quietly, you open the door and peek out. Stepping out into the hallway, you don’t hear anyone. Silently as you can, you creep down the hall and peer around the corner and see no one in the house but the animals in the barn area. Walking over to them, you pet them and caress their heads. “Ahh, little female, there you are.” Beorn’s soft voice says from the corner of the barn. You startle a little, not having seen him there. You slowly walk over to see what he is doing. He is milking one of the cows.

“Are you rested enough now. They say you had a busy day yesterday.” He says softly. “Yes, it was a busy day. I am rested now. A little sore, but rested. Thank you for letting us use the tub. It helped soothe the aches and relax me.” You tell him. He chuckles. “You are welcome, little female.” He says. “Have you eaten?” he asks. You nod. “Yes, Balin brought me food and talked with me while I ate.” You tell him. “Thank you for letting us stay here and rest. I suppose we’ll be heading out soon though. It’s been nice to sleep in a bed and not have to worry about being attacked and hunted by Azog.” You tell him.

“You are always welcome here, little female. If you wish to stay here in safety and wait for your companions to reclaim their home and send for you when it is safe, you are welcome to remain behind. I will not harm you or force you. They say you are Thorin’s Wife but are also Fili’s One?” he asks. You nod. “How is that since I thought Dwarrow only mated to one Dwarf?” he asks. You shrug. “I am not sure why it happened, Beorn, Sir. Mahal just gave me, Fili and Thorin the same dream telling us that is what he did. He didn’t explain why to me, other than that through me the Dwarves would be blessed with peace and prosperity.” You explain.

Beorn nods. “I see you have a Dragon’s claw. Did you kill a Dragon for it?” he asks. “No, it was a gift from Lord Elrond.” You say. “He wanted me to be as safe on this journey as I could be.” You explain. Beorn nods. “Well, whatever you decide to do, little female, you will always be welcome here. If you arrive and I am not here, my animals will remember you and will make sure you have whatever you need.” He tells you, standing up and taking the enormous pitcher into his hand. You crane your neck up to him and thank him.

“Your travel companions are all outside enjoying the sun. It is a nice day today.” He tells you. “Would you like clean sheets on your bed?” he asks. You nod and thank him. “I will drain the tub and leave it there if you desire to use it again. I will leave water heating in the cauldron for you as well.” He offers. You thank him once more and head out into the sun.

Standing in the doorway, you blink several times as the bright light hurts your eyes. You hear a soft chuckle to your left and glance over seeing Balin and Dwalin sitting there. “My Brother tells me you are looking for these.” He says holding up your weapons. You nod. “I want to practice with them since I haven’t been able to for a while. I will not leave these walls unless they are on my back and at my hips.” You tell him. “So, unless you all wish to leave me behind, I expect my weapons be returned to me.” You say folding your arms and leaning on the door casing. Balin chuckles.

“Is that so?” Dwalin says with a smirk. You raise an eyebrow and nod. He tosses you the hand axes in their sheath and you catch them and fasten it to your waist. Then you resume your position. He smirks. “Does a certain Lass need to blow off some steam?” he inquires teasingly. You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “I wish to practice.” He chuckles and gets up. “Then ‘practice’ we shall.” And moves past you to go inside and get his weapons.

Balin gets up and chuckles. He sees your new clothing having all the holes in it. “What have you done with your new clothes, Lass?” he asks. You sigh, “Apparently the Elves didn’t realize why I had the holes in my old ones and did not put them in the new ones. I need to be able to access my weapons quickly and I can’t do that if there are not the holes in the clothing to do so. Tonight, I will have to cut the same holes in the rest of my clothing and use some of the fabric left to make patch covers for them, so it looks like the clothing is patched and not blatantly screaming ‘hidden weapons’ like it is now.” You explain.

Balin chuckles and nods. You feel someone behind you and your sword harness being leaned against your back. A pair of huge mitts come around and hook the strap onto you and you look up to see Dwalin grinning. “Ready for some ‘practice’ Lass?” he asks. “I’d have though ye’d have had yer fill of ‘practice’ by now.” He teases. You roll your eyes and elbow him making him grunt, then laugh.

“That’s enough of that kind of teasing, Sir. “THAT kind of ‘practice’ I’ve had enough of. I can hold those two hostage all day long if I wish and they’ll be at my mercy, begging to be released.” You tell him with a smirk and wink at Balin who’s roaring with laughter at the look on Dwalin’s face, which you can’t see. You step out of the doorway and swing your hip as you walk into the yard. As you do, you draw your sword and start to go through the motions of the practice routine you had been taught by your Father.

Dwalin watches you sauntering away and looks at his Brother, who’s laughing is ass off. “What the hell did she mean by that?!?” he asks. “You don’t want to know!” Balin tells him, still giggling. Dwalin shrugs and heads over to you to help you ‘practice’ your swordplay.

~~~~~~~~~~

*More chapters to come. Feel free to leave comments, and to reblog.

*Let me know if you want to be added / deleted from my Thorin Oakenshield Tag list.

Tagging: @void-ace @xxbyimm @deepestfirefun @criminaly-supernatural @fizzyxcustard @legolaslovely @thewhiteladyofrohan @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth @talktothemoon2-blog @shutupthorin @thethorinoakenshieldsimp @thefanficmistress @dumbassunderthemountain @anki-of-beleriand @twobirdsonesong @thecurioussimmeruk

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nomazee · 4 years

Text

Slow

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

word count: 3400+

content: soulmate au (matching soulmarks), developing relationship, mild angst, ushijima is just Very Clueless sometimes, weird pacing (i can never get the pacing of my writing right :/ )

(hi hi hi!! here’s the ushijima oneshot i mentioned a few days ago. this was something i started working on a while ago but dropped it momentarily to focus on some other stuff. i ended up rewriting it completely and renewing the concept a bit.

this is sort of a different writing style? but that’s mainly because i wanted to adjust the way i wrote to the way the reader’s thoughts came through. i hope that makes sense? and i hope this is still readable!!

i really hope you guys like this one. while soulmate aus aren’t my most favorite trope, i definitely like the way you can twist it to fit your story and make up new concepts branching from the main idea of soulmates.

i think this is the longest work i’ve made?? i’m definitely pretty proud of it!! i hope my hard work paid off and you all enjoy it :)

ALSO: a very quick note. i use the word “furoshiki” a few times in one part of the story to refer to the cloth that people use to wrap bento boxes. if i misused that term please let me know!! i looked it up to make sure i was using the right word but there’s definitely still a chance that i could be wrong. feel free to correct me on that!!

by the way: i’m posting this from my phone right now so the formatting might not all be there. i’m very sorry about that!! once i get the chance to go back on my laptop i’ll make sure to fix everything :)

happy reading !!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

It was common knowledge among those in the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club that their captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi, prioritized volleyball over nearly everything else.

Even relationships. Even soulmates.

His friend Tendou had laughed mirthlessly when Ushijima first met you, his soulmate. He was there to witness the whole thing, your eyes flitting between the ace’s soulmark trailed beautifully against his wrist and the same mark mirrored on your forearm. You looked enthused to meet him--not overly, hopping-off-the-walls ecstatic, but certainly hopeful enough to elicit a wide smile from you.

“I’m [Last] [First],” you introduced yourself politely, with light hesitance and an extended hand.

Ushijima blinked, looked down at your hand (soft, a red and scabbed cut on your first knuckle, a birthmark on the bony part of your wrist) and then back up at your eyes. He returned the gesture, shaking your hand, giving a polite bow--

--and walking right away.

You blinked in shock. Tendou’s mouth parted in disbelief. His head swung back and he called after Ushijima to no avail. Turning back to you, he gave a short apology and ran after his friend to scold (and tease) him.

Your mind went a bit hazy and in a natural defense mechanism, you tried to convince yourself that you were just dreaming.

You went home. Fell into your bed. Realized you were not dreaming. Cried into your pillow and fell asleep, begrudgingly waking up the next morning and getting ready for school.

---

During lunch, you stayed in your classroom to eat lunch alone when someone at the door told you a boy was looking for you. (You felt a bit pathetic for hoping that it was your soulmate and being disappointed when you realized it was not him.)

You recognized the boy as the redhead that accompanied your soulmate yesterday. Flinching at the memory, you asked him why he was here.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for the way my friend acted yesterday.” His expression was lighthearted and playful, if anything, but you recognized the sincerity of his words. “He tends to be a little… aloof, sometimes. But I promise you it’s not that he hates you or anything, just isn’t used to this. But he’s willing to talk to you again.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, and instead look at the reasonable outcomes of this whole soulmate thing. It’s not like you were really expecting love at first sight--lots of soulmates didn’t end up in a romantic relationship. Hell, your parents weren’t even soulmates but they were still very in love with each other. But at the very least, you thought your soulmate wouldn’t just walk away after meeting you.

You took the redhead’s offer, packed up your half-eaten bento, and followed him to his own classroom a few doors down.

Your soulmate was there--you still didn’t know his name--and his head perked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. His expression was stagnant, which dampered your spirits the slightest bit and made you consider spinning on your heel and locking yourself in the bathroom for the rest of the school day.

You sat with the two of them, knees clenched together and gaze focused solely on the bento box resting on your lap. None of you spoke. Tendou’s eyes flitted between the both of you in expectance.

“So,” he spoke up, thankfully breaking the bout of stifling silence. “[Name], you wanna tell us a little about yourself? We don't really know much about you outside of… the very little we learned yesterday, so…?”

Your mouth gaped and closed rapidly, trying to find a good way to describe yourself without either seeming like an interviewee or a self-absorbed rando.

“I’m… [Name]. I’m seventeen… in class one. I’m in the photography club.” There wasn’t much else to say, you thought. You were a very normal person. Maybe too normal to really be worthy of having a close bond with your soulmate, but a small part of you still sort of hoped.

“Wakatoshi, your turn.”

The taller boy blinked into his bento (hayashi rice, you noted. Something you were able to cook, if you tried hard enough) before speaking. His voice was deep and embarrassingly, you flushed at the way it rumbled within his throat.

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

Okay. So. No age. No name (except for ‘Wakatoshi,’ which you only pulled from what Tendou said). Just his club.

With a lump in your throat and a prickly feeling behind your eyes, you excused yourself politely, bowing, and clutching tightly to your star-wrapped bento before leaving the classroom.

You went home. Punched your pillow before realizing you were definitely not one for using aggression as a coping mechanism and instead crying while making a cup of tea. Went to bed and woke up the next morning trying to forget all of the events of the past two days.

---

A week passed. Somewhere within that time, Tendou had exchanged numbers with you as a polite formality, a deeper meaning ingrained in his offer (one that you read as, “hey, I know it must be really disappointing to realize that your soulmate has absolutely no clue what romance is and no ambition for anything but hitting a volleyball, but if you ever wanna talk about it then hit me up!” You couldn’t deny that you still appreciated it).

You took the week to avoid interacting with Wa-ka-to-shi, never texting Tendou and asking to eat lunch with them or even showing up at his practice like some of their fans did (you were a bit surprised to learn that the volleyball team had fans). But you had a breaking point, as you often did whenever it came to your faux-shunning.

You texted Tendou, hoping that you weren’t that unlucky that he was still at volleyball practice and had his phone out for the captain to view.

does he like hayashi rice?

“Read” appeared under your text. You waited for the three dots to appear, which took an unnervingly long time to happen.

yup! how’d u know??

he was eating it when i had lunch with you guys.

ur observant!!

i guess. do you guys have morning practice tomorrow?

yup! starts at 7. fourth gym :) see you there!!

You paused. Tendou was nice. Also very observant. Scarily observant, enough to catch onto what you were trying to do. It made you a bit wary, but to be fair, you weren’t really being discreet in the first place.

Your mother asked you multiple times why you were cooking beef stew at nine PM, far past dinnertime. You were scared to admit that it was for a soulmate, so you instead settled for “friend” and she (very suspiciously) let you be in the kitchen.

You packed the food into four bento boxes. One for your mom, your dad, Wa-ka-to-shi, and you. (You couldn’t help the annunciation of each syllable of his name. It was just so fun to say, so fun to click against the back of your tongue repeatedly. You blamed the affinity for his name on your soulmate bond.)

You went to bed. Woke up extra early. Disregarded the concerned look your parents gave you when you left the house half an hour early with two bentos in hand.

Just as Tendou said, there was the squeaking of the volleyball team from within Gym Number Four. You hovered outside, a text sent to Tendou asking if you were allowed to come in as you awkwardly shifted the weight on your feet.

yup!! we’re taking a break right now. just come right in, i’ll be waiting for u at the door

He was waiting for you at the door, but so was Wakatoshi (you figured you should drop the somewhat-annoying pronunciation of each letter), which threw you into a stammering loop as you blinked between the both of them.

“Good morning.” Wakatoshi greeted you politely, nodding his head at you. You repeated the gesture before extending a bento box to him, with your favorite star cloth wrapping it in the neatest way you could manage.

“It’s for you. For lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. It’s hay-- um, hayashi rice.”

Wakatoshi didn’t take it. You cringed at the lack of action and a familiar lump manifested in your throat. The stoic boy blinked down at the childish wrap and you found yourself wishing you took a solid colored furoshiki instead of this one.

In a moment of boldness, you shoved the box into his chest where he instinctively reached for it and held it.

“I hope you like it!” You said it louder than intended and flinched at the sudden gazes on you from the other members of the team further into the gym. “Have a good day.”

A polite bow, and you were on your way, cursing yourself for taking the effort to make a decent-quality meal for a soulmate, a boy who barely even glanced at you without his friend giving him the hint to do so.

During lunch, you didn’t feel hungry, and the bento sat untouched on your desk for the whole break. You ended up letting your parents have the leftovers when you got home. Your appetite was gone for the rest of the day.

(Tendou ended up bringing you back your box and cloth the next day, wordlessly apologizing for having to be the messenger of your belongings rather than the person you actually gifted it to in the first place. You took it back with a resigned sigh and a thankful smile.)

---

The morning you stopped by, Tendou rolled his eyes after your departure and he gave his friend a firm, but friendly pat on the back.

“Why are you so awkward, Wakatoshi? That’s your soulmate, you know. You could at least be a little courteous towards her?”

Said man stayed silent, still leering at the patterned furoshiki covering the lunch you made for him--specifically him; the concept sent an unfamiliar fluttering through his chest that he didn’t dare to look into.

“Why would she make this for me?”

Tendou rolled his eyes again, letting out an audible groan.

“I just explained it to you, ‘Toshi! She likes you. You’re her soulmate. You could at least tell her thank you.”

“I will, next time.”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed at that. You seemed like a spontaneous person, from the few interactions you’d had with each other. (That, and the fact that after a week of ghosting your own soulmate you suddenly decided to make an entirely specialized lunch for him.) He wanted to half-joke and say ‘I don’t really know when the next time will be, exactly,’ but figured that may lead into another Q & A With Ushijima Wakatoshi, and instead let the captain simmer in his own contemplation for now.

---

You didn’t know Semi Eita very well. He was in your class, and you chatted a fairly reasonable amount with him, even going as far as to sit and eat with him in the classroom whenever he claimed he was “too tired to deal with his friends in the cafeteria.” As much of a “friend” of his you could be considered, you didn’t know much of him past what he was on the surface.

Nevertheless, you still knew him better than your soulmate. And that petty realization may have contributed to why you accepted his offer for a cafe date.

Semi approached you during lunch one day, not embarrassed in the slightest when he asked you if you wanted to go to a new cafe with him on Friday. “It can be a date, if you want,” he’d told you, eyes flitting to the side momentarily before meeting yours again. “But it doesn't have to be. We can just hang out.”

A bit flustered, you still accepted his offer, figuring a day out wouldn’t do much harm. He smiled at your response, asking you to meet him at his gym after his volleyball practice ended.

You didn’t think much of it. He certainly didn’t pressure you into assuming it was a date, and if you didn’t like it then you could just turn him down for a second date and move on with your single life.

On Friday afternoon, at five PM like he specified over text, you walked into the doorway of the gym, hovering and watching some of the boys clean up any spare equipment left in the gym. You couldn’t spot Semi anywhere, and moved to back away from the door when a familiar voice stopped you.

“[Name].” The sound of your first name coming from the rumble of your voice unwillingly sent shivers through your spine and you chastised yourself for the reaction.

You looked at him, and there he was--sweaty, all dark-hair and olive-eyes and you hated how flustered you got.

You gave him a polite nod and forced your lips into a smile. Despite you not responding verbally, he (uncharacteristically) led the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you here.” The words felt forced, almost rehearsed on his lips, and you couldn’t help the cock of your head in curiosity at that. “The food you made me last time was very good.” A pause, and his eyes turned to the polish wood floor. “Are you here to bring another gift?”

Wakatoshi was straightforward with his question, and at the unfamiliar aloofness you found your ears turning warm and fingers grasping at each other in habit.

“No, um-- I’m actually here to see… someone.”

“...someone?”

“Yeah. Someone.” You didn’t feel like elaborating, and by some sheer luck that you mentally praised the gods for, Semi jogged to your side, changed into his school uniform and a kind smile crossing his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you, turning up to his captain in confusion before focusing on you again. “Ready to go?”

Your eyes were forced off of Wakatoshi’s, and you returned Semi’s expression with a nod. You refused to look the captain in his eyes again, and instead focused on making sure you didn’t trip on the sidewalk while walking with Semi.

---

The date-- hang out-- outing-- whatever you wanted to call it went nicely. You both had pleasant, lighthearted, not-forced conversation over very good coffee and you found it enjoyable.

By the end of the night, while Semi walked you back home, you figured you had to address what you were a bit nervous to address in the first place. After explaining your hesitancy towards calling your hang-outs “dates,” Semi ultimately brushed it off, a smile on his face as he told you he really didn’t care too much and would enjoy just being a friend to you.

You were relieved. A quiet voice deep inside your head told you to not let this poor boy get hopeful when you were still trying to settle things with (read: get over) your soulmate. Regardless of secondhand reasoning, you were thankful he was understanding and also thankful he was willing to be a friend.

---

You found yourself eating lunch with Semi a bit more often than before. It was nice to have someone else’s presence near you while you ate rather than having to sit alone and people-watch through the window of the classroom.

You were startled when Wakatoshi appeared in the doorway of your classroom while in the midst of a conversation with Semi. Noticing your mildly dumbfounded expression, Semi turned around to see where you were looking and looked confusedly at the form of his fellow teammate.

Wakatoshi nodded at him, turned to you, and gave a wave and a very, very subtle upturn of his lips. (Despite the subtlety of the gesture, you had to suppress a gasp that threatened to break past the back of your throat.)

He didn’t make a move to approach you, so you took the opportunity to walk up to him and meet him at the door, unintentionally avoiding the questions Semi shot at you in confusion.

“Hi,” you greeted stiffly. “Do you need something?”

“No. Yes.” Wakatoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me.”

It was an unexpected offer, one you deemed uncharacteristic coming from the aloof boy. You let your mind overprocess it before cutting off your overthinking and giving him a proper response.

“I’m eating lunch with Semi today. But maybe tomorrow, if you still want to.”

A foreign look of confusion appeared on his face, his brows furrowed together and head tilting slightly to the side. “Are you dating Semi?”

Wow. Okay. Very straightforward. Very sudden. You certainly were not dating Semi, and you didn’t know how he managed to draw that conclusion after seeing you and Semi interact a total of two times in his presence.

“I’m not…? Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because we’re soulmates.”

Your stomach churned in a mix of emotions. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings--it was an ugly mesh of annoyed, angry, confused, and on-the-verge-of-tears. You found it a bit funny that only now he was acknowledging your soulmate bond. It made the prickling sensation behind your eyes only increase in intensity.

“Right. Um, you… you didn’t really do much about that before.” You tried not to call out word-for-word what he did, but figured a jab at it wouldn’t send you into guiltily reflecting on your past actions while in the shower at midnight.

He was silent, avoiding your gaze and finding interest in the cracked wood of the door. Before your subconscious forced you to apologize, you gave a polite farewell and slid the door halfway shut before returning to your seat.

Semi stared at you incredulously. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know, man.” Despite the sudden lack of appetite (yet again! You really were not good at any form of confrontation), you forced yourself to nibble on your food and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

---

Wakatoshi made a point to run into at any time he saw fit, which was very often. He’d find ways to catch you in the morning and say hi, and always invited you to eat lunch with him in his classroom. Out of courtesy, you often accepted his offer, feeling a bit surprised (and wary) when Tendou didn’t appear to accompany the both of you. Those lunch periods were spent in jarring silence, Wakatoshi slowly eating his food (cutely, you noted before burning that thought into the fiery recesses of hell in your mind) and you eating yours while sweating and hoping that you didn’t look weird when you chewed.

This routine kept going on for a solid week. You didn’t know what to expect anymore. Other than the lunch invitations and morning small talk, he didn’t make any outstanding gestures towards you to try to get closer. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

One day, during lunch when you’d hesitantly accepted yet another offer to eat with him (ignoring Semi’s teasing look when you left the classroom), he made another strange offer, diverting from the usual discussions of weather, clubs, and schoolwork.

“I have a game soon.” He started off. “I’d like you to come watch.”

You paused, staring into your rice in an empty hope that it’d give you a clue on how to respond.

“It’s on Saturday. At twelve. The gymnasium isn’t too far from here. I’d like to take you to dinner afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. And you were expecting the unexpected. Then again, maybe you should’ve figured that eventually he may have made some sort of move after waiting a week with bated breath.

Your lips parted, but no noise escaped. You wanted to accept, definitely, but you also wanted to be a little aware of his intentions.

“Um…” You floundered a little bit, “I’ll see if I can make it. But… um, dinner?”

“Yes.” Though his voice was steady and deep as always, you sensed hesitance in the way his eyes shifted away from yours and into his lunch. “A date.”

It was a relief to hear him just say it rather than beating around the bush. You cleared your throat in habit and scratched the skin of your thumb.

“Oh. Okay. That would… be nice.”

He smiled. It wasn’t the occasional tilt of his lips, it was a smile. Stretched lips, crinkled eyes and all. You lost your breath at the sight and a soundless laugh escaped your lips.

“Yes. I think so too.”

It was a slow start. It would take some getting used to. But you were both willing to guide each other, slow and steady.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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puckyeahobx · 4 years

Text

they tried to sweep us into the cracks in the wall

not my gif

a/n: i really hope you guys aren’t getting tired of my rafe apologist behavior because it’s just gonna keep coming. this one is a little long but i really like how it turned out! i just hope rafe gets some form of redemption arc or SOMETHING because he truly is just a product of his toxic, abusive environment and i know he’s good at heart. (it helps that drew is my dream man tho) *title inspired by chapstick by hippo campus*

summary: there’s a huge storm in the obx one night and y/n is stuck at the diner she works tirelessly at. little does she know that her beloved diner is about to become refuge for the last person she’d ever dream of feeling empathy for.

warnings: none! fluff overload

word count: 7.6k (meep)

You had been working at this cafe by the beach for a couple of years now, ever since you had turned 16. You needed the money to save for college and get the hell out of your house and, one day, the Outer Banks. It’s not that you didn’t love it there, because of course you did. It was home after all but you just knew that you were meant for more. But, it had been almost four years at this cafe, two at the closest community college, and things weren’t looking good on the whole “meant for more” front. Lost as ever, you just kind of took every day as it came and tried to keep a smile on your face as you did so. It wasn’t a particularly hard life, nor was it ridiculously painful, but you couldn’t help but think of what sixteen year old Y/N would have thought of you four years older in the same shitty apron and clunky work shoes.

Much like your life hadn’t changed much in the last four years, the cafe hadn’t changed since before you were born. The same old people came in on the same days at the same times, which was good because it meant you got to know them really well, usually meaning bigger tips for you, but it was kind of a slap in the face with the whole complacency thing. You were the youngest people ever in that building, besides Mildred’s granddaughter Celia who came in for brunch every Sunday at 10:45 (right after mass), and since this is where you spent pretty much all your time, your dating life was also suffering. This obviously wasn’t the most pressing variable in the situation, but it was a variable all the same and it wasn’t like you could pretend like you didn’t notice. Because you did. Every time a love song from the 60’s came on the cafe playlist you noticed. Whenever Ester and Charles came in for their Monday morning coffees and Thursday evening dinners, you noticed. Sometimes you’d be doing nothing at all and you’d notice. It was kind of impossible to ignore. You weren’t one to obsess over boys because, frankly, there weren’t any you were interested in. This was a small island, you knew your options and you were far from impressed. Sure some of them were attractive, but that usually also meant they had rocks for brains and that was just not something you were willing to indulge just because you were desperate for a warm body. This was your life for right now and you were just going to have to be ok with it. And you were. For the most part.

The good thing is that you didn’t hate your job. Food service wasn’t glamorous but the cafe was sort of like a second home to you, and since you had been there for so long the owners really trusted you. The couple that owned the place weren’t as young as they were when they opened it 25 years ago so any chance they got to hand the keys over to you for the night, they took gladly. Tonight was one of those nights. It was pouring outside as you started the closing duties. Sweeping, wiping down the tables, polishing the glassware, typical restaurant stuff. It was actually kind of relaxing.

You were on your fourth set of mugs when you were startled by the bell above the front door jingled delightfully. It was only 9 PM so you didn’t technically close for another hour, but your usual crowd tapped out at around 7:30. But, then you realized that this customer was a part of your usual crowd. Oh no, this 6’4” twenty something in board shorts and a half-buttoned shirt was far from that. He was soaked from head to toe, his horrific Sperry’s squelching as he made his way toward the counter, looking around. He couldn’t see you from your spot hidden around the corner to the kitchen back by the dishwasher, but you could see him bright and clear.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” His tall body and broad shoulders did not match the apprehensive tone of his voice, and it certainly was a far cry from the way you had heard him speak before.

You stepped out from around the corner wordlessly, your towel and mug still in hand. He jumped in surprise before you could say anything.

“Jesus Christ!”

You jumped back at his mini outburst, “You’re the one that asked if anyone was here!”

He rest his hands on the counter and huffed out a laugh, “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he looked up, his hair (as well as the rest of him) completely soaking wet and dripping all over your freshly mopped floors, and his eyes closed in on you, “Do I know you?”

“We, uh, we went to school together. Class of 2018. You’re uh Rafe Cameron, right?” You tried to be casual, but you knew exactly who he was. Rafe Cameron: public deviant and resident party boy of Figure Eight. Needless to say you never ran in the same circle, but it was impossible not to know who he was. Some may have called in infamy.

Straightening up he smacked a hand to his forehead and then started pointing at you, snapping. “Yes duh! And you’re-” more snapping, “God it’s been so long….Something with an ‘M’?”

You knew he had never known your name, but you kind of liked that he was pretending. “It’s Y/F/N Y/L/N. I think we had geometry together sophomore year.”

“That must be why I don’t remember you, I never went to that class. Mrs. Reynolds was a bitch.”

Normally you would have scoffed and rolled your eyes at a man calling a woman a bitch but in this instance he was absolutely correct. “She was the worst,” you laughed nervously.

There was a beat of awkward silence when you remembered what you were being paid for, “Oh so did you, um, did you want something to eat?”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language until he also seemed to remember what your job was, “What? Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

“Ok...do you want coffee or anything?” You asked, confused.

“I actually only came in because this was the only place within like ten miles that had its lights on. You do know there’s a tropical storm coming, right?”

You did not know there was a tropical storm coming. At around 7 you turned the radio off and took aux, simultaneously cutting off any and all emergency weather reports. You could tell that the storm was rough, but it was rare for a tropical storm this time of year.

“Is that why you’re soaking wet? You got that bad just from walking inside here?”

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, “No, actually, I got this bad from riding my bike for the last hour.”

Wanting to avoid another awkward pause you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Well that’s pretty stupid.” You immediately covered your mouth with your free hand, a hot, crimson blush creeping up your neck and taking refuge all across your cheeks. The awkward pause would have been favorable.

However, instead of flipping you off and calling you a dumb slut like he and his friends had been known to do in high school, he looked back up at you and laughed. You hoped it was with you instead of at you, so you forced a laugh back. It was hard not to, his face completely changed when he laughed. It was as if all of his features shifted into something softer, rounder, open. You had gone to school with Rafe Cameron your whole life and never before would you have ever dared to describe him as warm, but that’s exactly what the person laughing on the other side of the counter was. It was almost off-putting.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid. But, in my defense, it wasn’t raining when I got on my bike. And I didn’t have much of a choice.” The last sentence fell off his tongue a little harder, a little darker.

“What happened?” You weren’t sure why tonight was the night you had decided to speak on impulse, but you were really starting to question why lobotomies were frowned upon. It seemed like you could use one.

He clearly didn’t want to answer, with the way he sighed and focused his attention on the cup of coffee stirrers on the counter in front of him, but he did anyway. “You know how parents are. The old man was just sick of looking at me tonight, I guess.” His tone was casual, but his gaze on the coffee stirrers was anything but. Happy people don’t look at inanimate objects like that.

You let his omission sit in the air for a moment, making sure you didn’t say anything stupid again before settling on the one thing you knew to be a sure fire antidote. “I think you should drink some hot cocoa.”

He looked up at you and tried to wave the suggestion off, “Nah it’s ok. This storm will be over any minute now and then I’ll head out. Besides, you’re cleaning and I’m interrupting you.” He went to turn around and sit in some of the chairs but you had already turned on the machine.

“Don’t be stupid, this storm is going to stick around for awhile. You might as well get comfortable.” The hot cocoa finished and you topped it off with whipped cream and brought it to his spot at the table closest to the counter.

He looked from the mug to you and back again, doing that thing with his neck again. “This is really nice, Y/N, but, uh, I don’t have any money.”

You scoffed and walked away, “Yeah, ok, Mr. Tannyhill.”

He got a little quieter, “No, uh, I’m serious. My dad cut me off. None of my cards work.” You turned around and saw him looking down at his shoes. His broad frame slouching over onto itself, making him look almost small.

“Don’t worry about it. I was never going to make you pay for it anyway. Just promise I can have a sip, yeah?” You tried to keep the conversation light so he didn’t freak about the amount of honesty he was sharing with you. Why was he being so honest? Why was he talking to you at all? You suppose it would have been awkward if he had just walked in, not ordered anything, and sat down without a word, but that still didn’t explain the brutal honesty about his homelife.

He smiled at you and laughed, “Yeah, I promise. You can have as many sips as you want.”

You returned a soft smile back and pointed to the kitchen, “I, uh, I have some other stuff in the back I need to finish up real quick. Make yourself at home, I guess.” And you turned around quickly, hoping he couldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way back into the safety of the dishroom.

Back in the safety of the dishroom you had time to actually process what was happening for the first time all night. There you were, desperate for something in your life to start, and then all of a sudden something jolted you awake. Maybe you were being dramatic for the sake of entertainment, but as a big believer in the universe and the purposeful things it sends our way, you were not about to take this for granted. He was being so kind - so very the opposite of the Rafe you had heard the stories about for years and years. But there was more to it, the kindness didn’t even seem like an active choice. He just was. From the way he tentatively looked around for another soul in the storm, to the guilty look on his face when he couldn’t pay for the drink you had made for him (it was true, by the way. You really were never going to make him pay for it. His surprise made you wonder when was the last time he had been shown a random act of kindness like that. You felt your heart hurting for him), he was just kind and scared and considerate. Although, you might have just been romanticizing the one interaction you had had with a guy in God knows how long. It didn’t help that his shirt was almost all the way unbuttoned and completely soaked through. You weren’t even letting yourself think about the way his hair was stuck to his forehead and in his eyes, because if you thought about it you were afraid you might offer up your hand in marriage.

All this not thinking about his hair had really distracted you from your cleaning, so you were even further behind. You still had four racks of mugs to wash and dry as well as three containers of silverware to sort. Normally, you would have been by now. But normally, there wasn’t a soaking wet boy in your cafe.

Just when you were almost done not thinking about him, you heard his voice coming from somewhere much closer than the table by the window. “Um, do you need any help?” He asked from the doorway.

You jumped, almost dropping the mug in your hand.

“We should probably stop sneaking up on each other, you might end up breaking a mug,” He chuckled as he walked towards you, tugging a dry towel off the rack by the door. “So, where do we start?”

You stared blankly back at him, not trusting your brain to come up with something intelligent to say.

He chuckled offhandedly at your agape mouth, taking the wet mug from your hands and drying it before setting it on the rack with the rest, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. And, even better, it might just restore my image,” He paused and held his hands out in front of him with a grand gesture, “‘Outer Banks Playboy and Coke Addict Rafe Cameron Attempts Manual Labor’ That’ll be a hit for sure. Do you have any more washed mugs or should I do that too?”

Snapping out of your trance, you cleared your throat and pulled out a rack of freshly washed mugs and set them in front of you both. He was standing so close to you that you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him through his soaked shirt.

“You know, we have extra uniform shirts in the back. I could get you one,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A job offer, huh? I’m impressing you that much already?”

You felt yourself start to blush again, “No, uh, I just meant because you’re probably cold. It’s not good to stay in wet clothes. If you don’t want one that’s fine I just thought-”

He stopped your train of thought when he rested a hand on top of the one you had been using to scrub the same spot on the mug you had been scrubbing since you started talking, “I’d really appreciate that, Y/N. Now, set the poor mug down. It never did anything to you,” it could have been teasing, but it honestly didn’t sound like anything other than him trying to ease the tension you were so obviously feeling.

You nervously laughed and walked out of the kitchen to get the shirt, trying to avoid eye contact. Returning with what you hoped was the right size, you stepped into the kitchen still not looking at him, “I didn’t know what size you would want, but it was between this and a XS and that just seemed unrealistic.”

When you finally looked up you fully almost passed out. There was Rafe Cameron, in your cafe dish room, topless. He was standing over the drain on the ground, wringing out his other shirt. His biceps tensed with each twist of his arms and you swear you heard yourself gulp. He looked up at you as you finished talking, straightening up and giving you a full view of him. While you had run in different circles in high school, you weren’t blind. And you definitely weren’t stupid. Rafe had always been good-looking. This wasn’t a shock. It was completely a context thing. But that didn’t change the fact that suddenly your mouth had gone dry as you tried to somehow drink in the image of his entire body without coming off as some freak with zero social skills.

“Just toss it here, thanks,” he caught it with one hand (sexy) and slipped it over his head, doing that thing where boys shake out their hair after putting a shirt on, and smoothing it out over his chest and stomach. “Fits like a damn glove.” He shot back another one of those uncharacteristically enthused smiles before setting his wet shirt on top of the washing machine and getting back to work on the mugs. “Are you just gonna stand there, Y/L/N or are you gonna help me?”

You slowly made your way back over to him, too nervous to make any sudden movements. What if you just blinked for too long and suddenly he was gone? Finally getting back to work, you stood further away from him this time

“I don’t bite,” he whispered to you as he leaned in close to your ear.

Laughing nervously you scooted to the side a little closer, “Sorry. I’m just, surprised, that’s all.”

“Not everyday someone so good looking turns up at your door and offers you free labor?”

“I was more so thinking about it being you specifically, the ‘Outer Banks Playboy’ and all. This doesn’t really seem your speed,” you shrugged as you placed another dry mug on the rack.

He sighed, “Yeah, well, the outer banks playboy hasn’t really done me any favors recently. I think I’d much rather move at this speed.”

You scoffed, “I hate to break it to ya buddy but the speed you’re referring to might as well be a standstill. Nothing about this place has changed in the last 25 years and that includes the customers. I’d take Playboy over Groundhogs day any time. Much more glamorous.”

“I’m not so sure about glamorous, Y/N...you did hear me say that I’m completely broke, right? Doesn’t really scream luxury.”

You faltered, surprised that he brought this up again on his own accord. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” You started after a pause, “But what happened that was so bad that your dad kicked you out in the middle of a tropical storm?”

Stopping his motions completely, he set the halfway dried mug down and sighed, closing his eyes, “To be honest, this happens like every week. Nothing really happens, it's just like, he remembers I exist and picks something to be mad about. This week it was because I didn’t go to college, one of his personal favorites,” He laughed in spite of himself and shook his head, focusing back on the mug, “The one thing that changed was that I couldn’t take it anymore. I just got on my bike and left. I’ve been staying at Top’s since but then his parents kicked me out after Ward told some lies about how useless I was and how they shouldn’t enable me...maybe they weren’t lies, but it’s still fucked.”

You had long since forgotten the mug you were supposed to be drying, too focused on looking up at him to make sure he wasn’t going to crack at any moment. He didn’t seem emotional about all this but that just made you even more nervous. You reached out to set your hand on top of his gently, a sign of camaraderie. “Rafe, that- that is so fucked up. I’m so sorry. I had heard stories about Ward but that...wow…”

“Pretty fucking unbelievable, huh?” He scoffed, “What a stand up guy. I haven’t even done anything to piss him off in months. He didn’t even notice that I stopped doing blow…”

You tried not to show any visible signs of that news shaking you to your core - you thought the coke addict thing had been a joke.

He shook his head and started working on the mug again, finishing off the last in your guys’ stock. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. I’d be super fucking weirded out if I were you...sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” You said sweetly, tossing your used towel in the hamper. “I don’t get a lot of company around here, so I take what I can get. Daddy issues be damned.”

He let out another one of those honest-to-God laughs again which you were relieved by. It was amazing how easy being with him was considering everything you had thought you had known about him. Some people really do change after high school, huh.

“You’re funny,” he remarked as he finished up laughing, swinging his towel over his shoulder and running his hands through his hair, “So...what’s next boss?”

“I still have some silverware to bag up but you really don’t have to help me, I’m a big girl I can handle it myself. Besides, you’ve had a long day of being homeless.” You joked, grabbing the silverware and setting up to sort them. He made no sign of moving. You rolled your eyes, “Rafe, I’m serious. I can get this done in like twenty minutes,” and turned away from him to focus on the task at hand.

Almost as soon as you were done talking though, he was already right beside you, “But if I help we can be done in ten. What kind of asshole would I be to let the beautiful girl I burdened with my presence work while I sat and did nothing?” And, with that, he pulled out another tray of silverware and got to sorting. All you could do was smile to yourself and try not to look at him. If you did you were sure you’d embarrass yourself with the blush and giant smile stretched across your face. This truly seemed like a dream. Too good to be true. It was no passionate affair, but it was more than enough for you. As you finished the silverware (he was right, it did take ten minutes), you found yourself hoping that the storm was raging even harder than before, with no signs of stopping.

Once you finished the last chore of the night, it was time to face the fact that it was too unsafe to travel anywhere for the time being. It was creeping further into the night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tired, but you would seriously be damned if you did anything to miss out on the absolute miracle unfolding before you. So, you tried to plow through it regardless of how completely exhausted you were.

Rafe was in the middle of trying to build a pyramid out of the menu cards from the tables while you sat opposite of him, rotating through the same three apps on your phone like you had been for the last 45 minutes when you let out the most dramatic yawn of your life.

The pyramid toppled over and Rafe sighed, “This is stupid. We need to talk about a game plan.”

“What-what do you mean?” You struggled to ask through your second yawn.

“You’re clearly exhausted so we should probably decide who is sleeping where since I doubt there’s going to be any chance I’m getting back on that bike any time within the next eight hours,” He paused to survey the small cafe, clearly trying to come up with a solution. “There’s a booth over in that corner that looks like it might work, and the stools at the counter have some cushions we could remove for pillows….I’m sure my shirt is probably dry by now for you to use as a blanket…”

“First of all, you can keep your shirt. Really, I’ll be fine,” You pretended to be annoyed but truthfully, the thought of curling up with something of his made you want to sob. “Second, I can just sleep on the floor. I’m the one that cleans it so I don’t really mind.”

He was already up and gathering the cushions off the stool, “Just shut up and let me be a gentleman. It’s handled.” And, before you could say no, he was arranging a couple of cushions on the booth, fluffing them for dramatics. “It’s beautiful.” Truthfully, it was a 25 year old glorified couch cushion with two paper thin cushions resting on top of it. But sure, beautiful would work.

“Well this is very sweet but I can’t let my guest sleep on the floor…”

“Guests are usually invited, I don’t think I count. Now! Into bed you go. You’ve had a long day.” He gestures towards the booth.

“Where are you going to sleep?” You asked tentatively, hoping he’d say right next you.

He shifted his weight back and forth between the heels and balls of his feet, “Erm, probably in that corner with the rug. Don’t worry, I saved a stool cushion for myself though.”

“This is so stupid-”

He put a finger on your lips and shushed you, your eyes surely popping out of your skull. Once he was sure you were done talking, he rested both of his hands on your shoulders, easing you down onto the booth. Convinced he had cast some sort of spell, you didn’t put up a resistance and sat down, still looking up at him with a stunned expression.

“What’s stupid is you refusing kindness from Rafe Cameron. People aren’t going to believe you when you tell them so you might as well milk it for all its worth, sweetheart,” His voice was a little breathier than before and your mouth seemingly had gone dry because of it.

Sweetheart. Shit.

When you didn’t say anything, he squeezed one of your shoulders and laughed to himself, “I’m trying this new thing where I put good in because I heard that’s how you get good out. How am I doing so far?”

You tried to speak but nothing came out at first which made you want to crawl in hole and die of embarrassment, but then you cleared your throat and nodded, “Um...yeah! So far so good.”

He smiled and straightened up (you already missed the feeling of his hands on your shoulders, on you period), “That’s what I like to hear. Well...I’m gonna turn off the lights and head over to my corner.” He paused for a second before turning around and then again before he got to the lights, this time turning back towards you, “Thank you, uh, again, for being so cool. Sorry for ruining your night.”

He turned the lights off.

You heard yourself halfway whispering “This has been one of the best nights of my life” before your eyes started to close on their own accord.

“Mine too,” you heard from an even quieter voice as something linen was draped gently across your back and shoulders.

And then it was quiet, and you fell asleep praying to God you wouldn’t wake up in your bed in the morning.

--------------

When you woke up suddenly, jolting straight up in bed - well, booth - after a particularly loud thunder clap you truly had no idea where you were or whose shirt was draped over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you heard a voice from a disembodied lump in the other corner that the memories of the previous four-ish hours hit you like a truck.

“You snore.”

It was pitch dark but you knew you were red as a beet. Death seemed preferable.

“Don’t worry, it’s the cute kind. Like the little ones, not the chainsaw ones.” There was a tenderness in his voice that would have made you fall over if you weren’t already sitting down.

“Is that why you’re still up? Because I was being loud? I’m so sorry-”

You heard him shift and groan, his body adjusting against the stone floors, “No, no. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Too much going on up here, ya know,” he paused, “I’m uh pointing at my head...it’s dark.”

You let out a laugh and laid back against the cushion, “I kinda figured.”

“Yeah that was stupid I don’t know why I felt the need to clarify,” he laughed back.

A comfortable silence fell over you two for a moment once the laughter died out.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed and shifted again, “I’ve already kind of talked your ear off I think.”

“I don’t mind.”

When he didn’t respond immediately you started to get nervous that you had overstepped. You were just about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t owe you any sort of explanation, when you heard what sounded like a sniffle. Rafe Cameron was fucking crying.

“It’s just uh,” you could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and your heart shattered, “I’m just tired of being the bad guy, I guess. I just wish I could do the right thing, ya know?” He paused, “Do you ever just- just you know, wish you could change everything about yourself?”

You turned on the booth towards the direction of his voice and sighed, “Every day of my life.”

He let out a wet, pathetic laugh, “Yeah. It sucks.”

Another pause, this time not so quiet as you heard him try to catch his breath.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?” He sounded nervous.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” The fondness you had discovered that you had for him was seemingly filling you up completely. Every corner of your body was full of it. You hoped he could hear it. You hoped he believed you.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said through another wet laugh, “But you might be the only one.”

This time, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and the cushions he had used to make your bed and walked to where his voice was. The light from the security lamp on the corner of the building filtered through just barely so you can see the outline of his trembling body. There was a broken boy at your feet and you set the cushions down beside him, draping the shirt over him like he had for you and laid down next to him. It was intimate, your front pressed against his back as you held him through the cries he still was hoping you couldn’t hear, but that was it. You didn’t need or want anything besides him being able to feel the tenderness coming from you.

After a few moments he gave, turning to face you as he rested his head on your chest and let out a real sob. He grabbed onto you as if you could get up and go at any moment and your fingers threaded through his hair gently, doing anything you could think of to soothe him. He kept mumbling apologies to you but you just shushed him and held on tighter, trying not to let your own tears fall.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sobbed into your chest, your work shirt becoming soaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

------------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up the events of the night before immediately popped in your head. Partly because they were arguably the most exciting things to happen to you in years, but also because it was sort of hard to forget with there was a sleeping boy on top of you.

His arms were wrapped around you and half on your side, half on your back, and fully uncomfortable. The stone had not been kind to your back, and the weight of 6’4” Rafe Cameron didn’t really help, but hell would freeze over before you dared move and disturb the peace before you. His eyelashes were so long they rested on the top of his cheek as he snored just the littlest bit, his bottom lip pouting out as he did so. The storm had caused his hair to get soaking wet just for it to dry chaotically around his forehead. It wasn’t his normal slicked back look, but rather unkempt and surfer-like. It was falling on his forehead perfectly and every time you breathed it shifted just the tiniest bit.

By some miracle it was a Sunday which meant you didn’t open until 10 am and judging by the way the sun was barely creeping above the ocean, you guessed it was probably somewhere between 7 and 8. You knew that eventually you both would have to move, but not yet. Please, God. Not yet. Because if he moved, that meant he would leave, and you weren’t prepared to cope with that kind of loss so early in the morning. Or ever, possibly.

It was almost embarrassing how much you cared about this boy that you were almost certain was a sociopath twenty four hours ago. But now it was as if everything had ever known had changed. Everything seemed brand new: The sun, the stone beneath your spine, the shape of his lips. This might have been some fluke that he would pretend never happened, but you knew in your heart that nothing could ever be the same for you after this. What a crushing blow to know that your life was able to change without your permission.

Before you could get too philosophical before noon, your worst fear was confirmed as you felt him shift. It was endearing to see him be so human in those first few moments of awake-ness. He removed himself from your skin, resting up on one of his elbows, as he wiped his eyes and tried to piece together exactly what had happened to make him end up in this very position. After he had looked around and decided he was in no mortal danger, his tired eyes fixed on you. They were still a little puffy from all of the crying, but they hadn’t lost the softness you caught yourself getting lost in.

“Good morning,” His voice was gravel in the morning and you jotted that down as a fun fact to bury deep in your memory in case you never got to hear it again.

“Good morning,” You couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He was goddamn breathtaking this early in the morning.

He looked around again, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off the exhaustion, “What time even is it?”

“I’m not sure, my phone is dead, but I’m going to guess sometime before 8.”

To your surprise, his elbow dropped and he rested himself right back against you, nuzzling slightly, “Too early. Need sleep.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you apprehensively threaded your fingers through his hair, “I can’t argue with that logic, but the cafe does open in two hours and I think my smell might offend some of the customers.”

He put his face against your chest and sniffed slightly before resting his cheek again, “You smell great. Screw the customers.”

You wanted to stay there all day but there was just no way. If it wasn’t Fran and Neil banging on the door at 10 AM sharp like they do every Sunday, it was going to be your parents sending out a search party. You may be 20, but you still lived under their roof and they never let you forget it. “Rafe…”

Rolling over onto his back he sighed, “I know, I know. I should probably go.” He started to get up when you grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“No! No that’s, uh, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere. You can hang out here all day if you want for all I care. It’s a free country!” You were rambling. “I just need to get some clean clothes and shower before this six hour shift, that’s all.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to stay here while you go home. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He started to get up again and this time you didn’t stop him, conceding to defeat. You were already burying this whole night deep in the recesses of your mind where the memories of it couldn’t hurt you when he held his hand out, “Need help up? That stone is a bitch.”

Once he had helped you up you both just sort of stopped and stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and started to look around, “Besides, I uh have some things I need to take care of anyway.”

You nodded and crossed your over your chest, “Yeah, yeah I get it. Good luck, with everything.”

He nodded awkwardly back at you, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, need it,” He tried to laugh but it sounded so forced it just made you even sadder.

You were about to respond when he leant down and gave you the quickest kiss on the cheek known to man. Another awkward nod and he was turning on his heels towards the door. “I’ll see you around?” He asked as he swung the door open.

“You know where to find me.”

And with that, he was out the door and one his bike. You didn’t know where he was going, but it was away, and that was just enough to break your heart.

----------------

The rest of the day was torture. Your usual Sunday morning customers were not as charming as they usually were, the sun wasn’t bouncing off the coastline as it usually did, and the mundaneness of your life wasn’t as easy to ignore as it once was. After he had left you set the cushions back where they belonged and got into your car and headed home. Before you left though, you saw his shirt laying on the floor where your two bodies had shared sleep and you took it with you as you left. You knew it was best to forget that this had ever happened, but you’d do that after the smell of him mixed with the rain faded from the cotton. Upon returning home you were lectured by your parents for not telling them where you were, and during the middle of a storm, for crying out loud! But nothing they said had any meaning. You hated yourself for how melodramatic you felt, but you couldn’t help it. What were you supposed to do after a night like that? Move on? Seemed unrealistic, in all honesty.

You got ready for work and managed to trudge through the work day until close again. The cafe closed early on Sundays, thank God, so by 6:30 you were locking the doors and were back in the kitchen sorting silverware drying mugs (both of which made you want to cry whether you wanted to admit it or not) when you heard a bang on the glass doors out front. Scared out of your mind, you grabbed a dirty knife and slowly turned the corner. But when you saw the person on the other side of the door, the knife was forgotten as you dropped it and hurtled toward the lock.

As soon as Rafe saw you his face broke open, his smile just amplified by the sunsetting behind him. He was in different clothes now, but his hair looked the same and he looked so much happier than the last time you saw him. You fumbled with the lock until you finally got it, swinging the door open and letting in a giant current of ocean spray, wildflowers and him, him, him.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face but you tried to come off as casual anyway, “Back so soon? We’re closed you know...This time it actually is an imposition. If this is just your master plan to get free hot chocolate you are sorely mistaken sir.”

He waited for you to stop rambling to ask politely, that smile still all over his face, “Can I come in?”

You wordlessly moved out of the way as he stepped in and turned back to you.

“So what do I owe to this great pleasure? Did you forget something-”

But before you could get the whole sarcastic remark out, your lips were being crushed by something soft and desperate. His hands cupped either side of your face as he kissed you wildly. Your hands immediately found the nape of his neck and you leaned in even closer to him, trying to make it clear that he could wield you any way he wanted.

He pulled a part far too soon, his breath completely uneven in a way that made you feel like you were dreaming, “Uh yeah, actually. That. I forgot that.”

His hands were still on your face, yours still in his hair, “Well what took you so long then?” You laughed, just as breathless as him.

“I was too busy trying to convince my dad that I was a good person. It took a couple of hours, but I don’t think he hates me anymore. He reopened all of my cards and is letting me live in the guest house-”

“That’s great Rafe!”

“On one condition...” He sounded nervous, but the faintest trace of a smile still danced across his lips.

Your voice lowered, “I’m nervous.”

“I have to get a job…” He paused waiting for you to catch on, but you just stared blankly back at him. You were still reeling from that kiss. “And I guess I was hoping that this very cafe might be hiring?”

Your smile got even wider and your whole body felt like it was glowing, “You know what I think we are,” You all but giggled.

His hands fell to your hips where he squeezed slightly, laughter bubbling off his tongue, “Perfect! When can I interview?”

“Right now!” You enthusiastically pushed him into the chair behind him and he fell back less than gracefully. “Who is the best employee at this cafe?”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know, Y/N, you did give away free hot chocolate...That doesn’t seem very business conscious.”

“Do you want the job or not?” Your eyebrows raised at him as a warning.

He laughed again and looked up at you again and grabbed your hands, pulling you between his legs, “I think you are not only the best employee at this cafe, but the best looking employee at any cafe that has ever been built.”

You scoffed and threw one of his hands off yours, pushing his shoulder.

“So did I get the job?”

You looked down at him and smiled, unable to even pretend to be annoyed, “Well, Mr. Cameron, I have reviewed the facts and it looks like you’ll be the perfect fit. Luckily for you, flattery will get you everywhere.”

He smirked at you and pulled you into his lap, “Oh yeah? I like the sound of that.” His voice was slightly teasing but there was no mistaking his hot breath against your neck.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! I was strictly speaking professionally.” The blush was creeping all over your body when he pulled away.

“So was I, boss. What do you take me for?” He feigned hurt and you saw right through it.

Deciding to tease him right back, you raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

With that he scoffed and rolled your eyes at you, giving up on your games. You laughed in his face and wrapped your arms back around his neck, assuring him you were just teasing. It didn’t take much convincing because soon he had forgiven you, his lips back on yours in an instant.

You went to sleep that night thanking your lucky stars for that worn down cafe and the tropical storm that brought him to you, still not being able to believe your luck. Sleep came for you as images of his smile fluttered past your eyelids, a smile permanently tattooed on your lips.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #rafemaybank wrote this #rafe cameron fluff

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