#HES SO CUTE AND CREEPY HEHEH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months ago

Text

— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire.

His four hours of nothingness.

He had too much time on his hands.

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day.

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you.

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM.

You were probably asleep by now.

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself.

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with.

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans.

He could be with you. You could be his.

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you.

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting.

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas.

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once.

He didn’t know how he did it.

He really just did.

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest.

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation?

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life.

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late.

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you.

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there.

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy.

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind.

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window.

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right.

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that.

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus.

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago.

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up.

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all.

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives?

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions.

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you.

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home.

Dean didn’t expect this.

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home.

He blinked.

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees.

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it.

You needed to be safe.

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you.

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human.

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you.

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement.

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools.

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked.

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma.

You were still way behind on unpacking.

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated.

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them.

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy.

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing.

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself.

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents.

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway.

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all.

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive.

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste.

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had.

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered.

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle.

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about.

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate.

He was thorough with his search.

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong.

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute.

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear.

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties.

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm.

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you.

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating.

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned.

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional.

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life.

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed.

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future?

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent.

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you.

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration.

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that.

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting.

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you.

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule.

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking.

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet!

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of.

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it.

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more.

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet.

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs.

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom.

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him.

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth.

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses.

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all.

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life.

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone.

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him.

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks.

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in.

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns.

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed.

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him.

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him.

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his.

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x you #dean x y/n

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year ago

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Hey got more aggre guy questions with you hehehe :D

How would you know if any of them had a crush on you?

Hehe... a classic cute question.

Sans: The absolute most difficult to tell. He just acts like a close pal. Honestly, if you're not Papyrus, it's near impossible to know how Sans is genuinely feeling. This guy is a master at disguise. The signs are ridiculously covert- how many words he uses in his texts, which eye he most frequently winks at you with, the kinds of jokes he uses, which side of you he sits on. He gets slightly jealous of people you like, and expresses that with veeeery subtle coldness toward them. To Papyrus Sans is outrageously flirting, and to you he just said 'heh, i'm gonna steal that joke'.

The most reliable sign that he likes you, is he would rather be with you than without you. He messages you when he's bored, when he's got a day off he asks if you want to come over and hang out together. He's casually affectionate with you; with everyone else he's very physically guarded, not really allowing any prolonged contact, but he'll sit close enough for your knees to touch and lean on your shoulder. When he's sleepy, he'll just put his head in your lap.

If at any point you're actually starting to suspect that Sans has a crush on you (ie you catch him lightly blushing or looking at your hand like he wants to hold it) that means he's already fully in love with you. If it's obvious enough for you to tell, he's planning to spend the rest of his life with you.

Red: Red is also pretty difficult to tell. Not as hard as Sans, though. He's highly flirtatious in general, but even more so with people he's physically interested in. Sometimes, it can be hard to know if he's just a super flirty guy in general, or if he genuinely really likes you.

When he's in love he switches between totally forgetting to flirt (he's thinking about more than just sleeping together) and acting more like himself, then panicking that you won't like his real self and becoming EXTRA flirtatious and swaggery. He instinctively wants you to see the real him, and like him... but he's also terrified of you not liking the real him, so he clams up and tries to play the part of the big sexy badboy that everyone else seems to like so much more. The longer he likes you the more he eases. If at any point you find out he needs glasses, or that he quit smoking out of fear that it'd impact your lungs, that's a sure sign he's fallen for you.

Another reliable tell is jealousy. Red doesn't get jealous a lot, because usually he doesn't really care all that deeply about his flings. If he shows jealousy about who you're with, it's a big flag that his feelings run a lot deeper than he wants to admit.

Skull: Skull isn't difficult at all. It will be loud & clear that he likes you. Nonstop staring, intense blushing at the slightest interaction, he drops/breaks things a lot because he's distracted just looking at you. His brain -> mouth filter vanishes, he'll be completely silent except to blurt out things like "you're so pretty" and "i like your smell". Before he drums up the courage to start talking to you properly he might even come across as a bit creepy and overwhelming, given his size and strength, the intensity of his feelings, and his love language being staring.

Papyrus usually comes very in handy. He makes Skull seem less intimidating by providing the cute real reasons for Skull's bizarre behaviour around you. He can be a great translation service for his brother- when Skull mumbles something totally unintelligible to you because you make his brain stop working, Papyrus can step in. He's also great at getting that perfect balance between encouraging his brother, and stopping him from crossing any lines; he'll help Skull approach you at a house party without teleporting somewhere completely random out of nervousness, but he'll also dispense helpful advice such as "PERHAPS YOU SHOULD INTRODUCE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU TELL HER YOU WANT TO HAVE KIDS WITH HER."

#llamagines #when sans has feelings for you he always finds some way to nap around you #you sit down for 20 seconds and he teleports onto the couch beside you #its like when you realise your cat has somehow made its way onto your lap without you noticing #except you realise hes been snoozing with his legs over yours for like half an hour

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themotherofhorses · 2 years ago

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Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,

Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.

pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.

notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)

masterlist

Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.

Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.

“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.

The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.

Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.

And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.

Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.

He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.

They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.

“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.

What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.

Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.

With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.

Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.

He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”

You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”

But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.

“I’m here to collect a debt.”

Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…

Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.

“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”

He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.

That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”

“Aemond…”

“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”

You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”

Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.

“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”

You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”

The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.

What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!

Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.

You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.

And so he did.

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.

His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”

You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.

Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.

You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.

“Please, Aemond…”

Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”

My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.

My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…

Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.

“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”

He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”

“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”

Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…

He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.

“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”

“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”

Ten years.

He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.

“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.

“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”

“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.

“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”

He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.

Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.

The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.

Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.

But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.

A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:

“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year ago

Text

{12} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, and slight Wooyoung)

Words: 9,104

Warnings: Clingy Wooyoung. I honestly think that's it lmao This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I know it's been forever since I updated this, or at least, it feels like it lmaoo I really hope this chapter makes up for the wait! I think it's really cute and fun. I've got a lot of stuff planned going forward, and quite a spicy scene next chapter hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven

If you thought Yeosang had been clingy after the first time the two of you had had sex, Wooyoung is ten times worse. You can hardly go anywhere in the house without him following you around, or showing up beside you suddenly in order to practically cling off of your side. He even goes so far as to appear beside you in the tub, a cheeky grin pulling at his features as he holds a rubber ducky in his one hand.

The first time he had done that, you had let out a shriek in surprise. One minute you had been alone, sliding into the warm water with your eyes falling shut in bliss. The next, you had opened them to see him sitting across from you, smiling like a mad man in love.

“Hi, Angel.” He had waved that rubber ducky held in his hand so casually before giving it a small squeeze.

The squeak it let out almost served to mock the irritation you had been feeling. Of course, Yunho and Yeosang were quick to appear in the bathroom after that, having heard you shriek and all.

“Don’t you, ‘Hi, Angel’ me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You had smacked his arm, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Oh, no! My Angel is suddenly having breathing issues!” Wooyoung all too eagerly leapt at the opportunity to wrap you in his arms

A blink, and you have him in a headlock, clear irritation on your face.

“Can I not be alone? For five minutes?” You shake him lightly, feeling how his one hand rests almost lovingly against your arm wrapped around his throat.

“Well, I see you two are figuring things out.” Yunho chuckles.

“I just want to take a bath in peace.” You sigh.

You can practically feel the way Wooyoung deflates in your arms, and you just know that that all too familiar pout of his is pulling at his features.

“I just want to spend time with you, Angel.”

“And you can’t do so wearing pants?” Yeosang gives his brother a once over, clear distaste on his features.

“Like you did any differently!” Wooyoung counters, still being held in that headlock by you.

That’s when you realize: oh, yeah, you’re naked, too.

That rubber ducky gets thrown in the direction of both Yunho’s and Yeosang’s heads. “Get out!”

“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, easily catching the rubber ducky in his hand.

“I don’t care!” You begin tossing more small items in their direction while shoving Wooyoung out of the tub. “Privacy is privacy, and I value mine!”

“Alright, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, his shoulders shaking lightly as he grabs Wooyoung by his ear before the younger male can hop back into the tub with you. “We’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you, Yeosangie.” You return his smile with a relieved one of your own. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot them all a look. “No weird demon magic, or spying through the mirrors thingy, either.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Yunho hums, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Not even a moment later, the three males disappear from the room, leaving you to your thoughts once again.

At least you managed to get some time alone after that. However, Wooyoung was insistent of spending almost every waking moment he could with you. For two solid weeks, he would always be the one sitting beside you when you were eating, and somehow, he would manage to worm his way into your lap while you were reading in the library. He’d follow you around the house like a lost puppy, and nearly fight his brothers every night to be the one to sleep in your bed with you.

Finally, one night, you managed to convince him to give you some space. You dragged both Mingi and Seonghwa into your room before Wooyoung could appear and kick one of them out. Comfortably, you rested in bed, a male on either side of you, and just as you were drifting off to sleep, a weight suddenly laying on your chest had your eyes flinging open.

“Really?” Your bloodshot eyes bored a hole into the top of Wooyoung’s head as he clung onto you from overtop of your blankets.

“Wooyoung, you’re being too much.” Mingi sighs.

“If My Angel had a problem with it, she would say something.” Wooyoung replies, matter of factly.

“I have been begging you all week to let me breathe, Wooyoung.” You manage to bring a hand up to rub at the bridge of your nose. “We can’t always be attached at the hip.”

“Why not?” He pouts, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his.

“Wooyoung,” It’s Seonghwa who speaks this time, and at one look from him, the younger is shrinking in his spot. “Don’t make me call Joong.”

“Fine.” Wooyoung sighs, dejectedly slinking off of you, and off of the end of the bed.

Wooyoung slowly begins to make his way to your door, purposely dragging his feet. He glances over his shoulder, the look of a wounded animal resting on his features as he pleads with you silently to ask him to say.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.” You say, somewhat pointedly as you turn to curl yourself into Mingi’s side.

The sound of your door clicking shut is the only response you get, and for some reason, even you can sense the way Wooyoung is surely trudging down the hallway defeatedly.

Now, as you rest on your bed the very next day, you find yourself alone at last. The only person in the room with you is Kuroo, and he rests curled up in a little ball on top of your Snorlax beanbag chair. You swear you can almost hear soft little snores coming from that little ball of black fluff as you turn the page of your book.

Finally, you have some peace and quiet.

Most of the other guys have been pretty good with you lately. Reluctantly, they’ve allowed Wooyoung the pleasure of clinging to you for the first few days after you had entered the dance studio of your own free will. Luckily, though, they’ve had your back more often than not. It seems last night might have been the final straw, for you haven’t heard anything from Wooyoung today.

A first in over two weeks.

Of course, you opt to hide out in your room, just in case. As much as you love spending time with him, he has been a little overbearing lately. You just want a breather. Plus, it’s not fair to the others that he gets to monopolize all of your time. You still have yet to see Seonghwa’s tailor shop since the incident, and if all goes well, you plan on visiting him there later today. For now, you just want to enjoy the peace and quiet solitude can bring.

About another hour passes by like this, with you simply reading alone in your room. That is, until you see a little black fluff jump onto the bed with you.

“Oh, hello, Kuroo,” you coo, immediately bookmarking your page and smiling down at the little cat crawling up from the end of your bed. The instant you place your book beside you, he’s nuzzling against your hand, blinking up at you with wide eyes. “How’s my little handsome fella today?”

A coo is all you receive back, Kuroo pushing his head harder against your hand.

“Oh, come here, you.” You chuckle, picking him up from beneath his front arms, and pulling him on top of your lap. “Aren’t you just the cutest!”

A happy chirp greets you this time, Kuroo practically climbing up your body to begin rubbing his face all over your neck and jawline.

That’s when you notice another pair of golden eyes still staring at you from on top of your Snorlax beanbag.

Your grip tightens around the black cat in your arms.

“Alright, Stinky,” you begin to move off of the bed with ‘Kuroo’ held tightly in your grip. “You have impeccable timing, Little One, because it’s time for your bath.”

The cat freezes in your arms, but only for a moment. A loud complaint is soon filed by Not Kuroo pretending to be the real one.

“Ah-ah, don’t be a little stinker,” you shake your head, managing to scruff him. You pull him off of you, shifting your arm to the side as you hold him tightly in your grip. “And don’t you dare try and claw me like the last time.”

There’s a false cheeriness to your tone as you glance down to see Not Kuroo almost curling in on himself while being held by the scruff of his neck. He glances up at you with pleading eyes, only to meet your overtly tight, albeit friendly, smile.

The two Kuroo’s lock gazes, and the one in your hand shrinks even further in on himself.

Entering the bathroom, you march right over to the tub. The instant you turn the faucet on, Not Kuroo begins wiggling in your hold to escape.

“Come on, Stinky, none of that.” You lift him so you’re eye level. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for Your Queen?”

At the way you quirk a brow, Not Kuroo immediately stops squirming.

“I think the water should be the perfect temperature by now,” you smile, somewhat maliciously.

If this doesn’t teach him a lesson, you don’t know what will.

You don’t even bother to check the temperature as you dunk Not Kuroo beneath the rushing stream. You can feel the icy chill on the tips of your fingers, but you hold tight, submerging him for a good thirty seconds to ensure he’s soaked by the time you pull him out.

Turning off the faucet, you don’t even bother to grab a towel as you exit the bathroom. All the while, you continue to hold Not Kuroo by the scruff of the neck, water dripping in a trail behind you as you head towards the game room.

The moment San notices you enter the room, his attention is on you. His gaze darts from your overtly cheery expression to the soaking wet cat held in your hand.

Both Jongho and Mingi burst out laughing.

“Where’s Hongjoong?” You ask, tone dripping nothing but sweetness.

The cat in your hand tenses.

“He went out to feed with Yunho and Yeosang.” Jongho informs you, a knowing grin pulling at his lips as he stares directly at the cat in your hand.

A long sigh escapes you.

“What happened?” Mingi quirks a brow, looking between you and the cat.

“Stinky boy needed a bath,” you reply, lifting the cat so you can stare directly into his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Wooyoung?”

The cat’s mouth falls open, and in the blink of an eye, you’ve tossed him in the direction of his brothers. Wooyoung takes the liberty to shift mid-air, water droplets flinging off of him and onto the surrounding males.

“Hey! Watch it, Woo!” San flicks some of the water droplets off of his arm.

San gets completely ignored in favour of Wooyoung attempting to stand back to his feet and go after you. Only, he doesn’t get very far, as he sees you practically looming over him while he rests on his knees.

“I just wanted a day.” You sigh, rubbing at your tired eyes. “A day without you trying to magic your way into monopolizing all of my time.”

“Angel-“

“It’s been two weeks Wooyoung.” Your sharp gaze meets his own, his eyebrows drooping dramatically. “Two weeks.”

“You have been a bit much recently, Woo.” San chimes in.

“Like you’d be any different!” Wooyoung rounds on San.

The elder simply raises his hands in his own defence.

“I have asked you repeatedly to give me space, and you have not.” There is nothing but irritated disappointment on your features as you sigh. “Do you think posing as Kuroo works in your favour right now?”

A pointed coo from the real Kuroo as he walks into the room has Wooyoung’s eyebrow twitching.

“I just wanted to spend time with you,” his voice is but a whisper as he looks down at his hands.

“I understand that, Woo.” You crouch in front of him in order to get him to meet your gaze. “But you have to understand that I also value my downtime. We’ve been spending almost twenty-four hours with each other every day for a little over two weeks. That’s not fair to me when I’ve asked you for a little breathing room, nor your brothers. Do you not think that they also want to spend some time with me, too?”

“They haven’t said anything…” he mutters.

“We’ve tried.” Mingi grumbles out a response, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You have to understand that there are eight of you, and only one of me. I cannot be in multiple places at once, and you can’t always hog me to yourself.” You go on to say. “I don’t mind a day here or there where it’s just us, but you’ve got to learn that me saying that I need some time to myself, or me asking you to give me space does not mean that I don’t want you anymore, or that I don’t love you, or that I never want to see you again.”

The whole room is silent for the moment, save for the slow, consistent drip of droplets that continue to fall from the ends of Wooyoung’s damp hair.

“Okay.” His voice is small as he continues to kneel before you.

A blink, and you’re pointing at the other three. “I count you all in this, too.”

“We know, Baby.” San smiles faintly, a certain reminiscent gleam in his eyes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you nod once at them, moving to exit the room.

“So, which was worse?” Jongho moves beside his brother kneeling on the floor, purposely speaking loud enough so that you can still hear. “Being a drowned rat, or a dead fly?”

Your eyebrow twitches and you freeze halfway through the door.

A loud shushing sounds behind you, followed by the sound of frantic movement.

Slowly, you turn to look over your shoulder. Both of your eyebrows are currently raised in disbelief as you see Wooyoung half moving to put Jongho into a headlock.

“Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to imply?” You look between the two youngest, one of which is wearing a shit eating grin.

“Don’t you worry, Angel-“

“Remember that time you thought a fly got into your room?” Jongho’s eyes gleam with a twisted sense of amusement.

Your brow furrows, body fully turned back towards them for a moment. You notice how the two others opt to remain silent, watching on with a sense of glee shining on their features.

“A fly?” You tilt your head slightly, resting your hands on your hips as you try and recall the memory. “Oh, yeah! That was-“ your breath hitches in your throat as you turn your suddenly sharp gaze towards Wooyoung. “That was you?”

It had been during the second week at the start of this whole fiasco. You had just gotten out of the shower and had finished changing back into your moping attire for the evening when you had heard a fly buzzing around your room. You didn’t even clue in that it could have been Wooyoung after learning of his powers, considering it happened so long ago. Besides, you had other things on your mind, like how you were going to escape this ‘hotel’ you had seemingly been held captive in.

Of course, you weren’t having any sort of fly in your room, and instead of calling one of the guys for help, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Besides, it’s not like you were really on speaking terms with them at that point.

So, rolling up the closest thing you could find, which just so happened to be a magazine Jongho had left for you that day, you decided to go fly hunting. A lucky smack, and the fly was upside down, legs twitching in the air before being scooped up and dropped outside onto the balcony.

Oddly enough, Jongho was the one who came to check on you after hearing the noise you had made by smacking the fly. Now that you think about it, of course.

“I can explain.” Wooyoung immediately lifts his hands in his own defence.

“So, you shifting into animals to spy on me isn’t a new thing?” You sigh.

“It’s not like I’m the only one who did it!” Wooyoung attempts to counter, only for Jongho to casually start walking away from him, an innocent look pulling at the younger male’s features.

“Why does this not surprise me?” You shake your head, moving to exit the room in the next moment.

“Wait! Angel!” Wooyoung scurries after you, managing to catch you halfway through the foyer. “I’m sorry!”

“Wooyoung-“

“It was stupid of me to do those things,” he continues, practically clinging off of you as you attempt to continue to make your way to the opposite side of the house.

“Wooyoung-“

“I promise I’ll never do them again,“ he slides down your body, practically clinging onto your one leg with every step you take.

You sigh, half dragging him across the floor as he desperately holds onto your ankle. Your clothes begin to become damp from the water still dripping off of him. “Sunshine-“

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Wooyoung!” You stop just outside of Seonghwa’s tailor shop, noticing the elder male look up from whatever he’s working on from within.

Only, from the way Wooyoung continues to babble at your feet, grovelling with every word, you let out another sigh. Pleadingly, you turn to look at Seonghwa through the glass of the door, begging him silently to help you.

A blink, and Seonghwa is staring down at Wooyoung from the open door with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Wooyoung.” The elder says the younger’s name, quite pointedly at that.

“I just wanted to spend time with you, Angel.” He pleads for you to understand, his eyes wide as he looks up at you.

“I know, Woo.” You sigh. “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m more upset at Jongho right now for essentially pulling a San.”

“Hey!” A loud complaint sounds from down the hallway from the elder male.

“Marshmallows.” You call back, which immediately shuts him up. Then, you’re turning your attention back to the soaked male clinging to your leg. “Besides, we just agreed that you were going to give me space.”

“But-“

“Should I tell Joong to come back early?” Seonghwa mentions casually. “We all know the consequences of not respecting Our Queen’s boundaries.”

This has Wooyoung immediately back on his feet, straightening out your shirt for good measure.

“I’m not disappearing, Woo. I can promise you that.” You pat his arm lightly. “Now, go apologize to Kuroo for impersonating him while he was in the room.”

“Fine.” He sighs, trudging back down the hallway.

“And go wrestle your younger brother for being a shit disturber, or something.”

This has him immediately perking up, a sly grin tugging at his features. A quick turn from him, and he’s shifted to place a kiss onto your cheek before racing back down the hallway once more.

A shriek in the distance is all you hear that Wooyoung is most certainly doing something to get back at Jongho right now.

Turning back to face Seonghwa, an amused grin pulls at your lips. You notice he already wears one of his own, you shaking your head lightly while smiling to yourself. At least that seems to be dealt with now.

“May I come in?” Your inquiry is nothing short of sweet as you step towards Seonghwa.

“Of course, My Divine.” His answer is instant as he holds the door open for you. “Join me any time you’d like. You never have to ask.”

Gently, you place a kiss onto his cheek as you walk passed, letting that serve as your answer. Briefly, your eyes take in the familiar sight of his tailor shop, many different memories flooding your mind.

“What are you working on?” Your gaze catches on a bust in the centre of the room, different than what you’re used to.

“Well,” the soft sound of the door closing echoes throughout the room as he walks over to you. A blink, and he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you flush against his chest as he stands behind you. “My Divine requested corsets for all of us, so I thought I should work on those today.”

Your hands come up to rest over his arms, leaning further into his touch as you relax into him. “Whose are you working on right now?”

“Yeosang’s.” He replies, and you both shift your eyes to look at the bust before you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you fully take in the detail of the corset before you. It’s a light cream in colour, with golden detailing along the seams. The style is over the shoulders, the placement of the fabric appearing as if the corset is layered. The light colour, combined with the almost intricate detailing of such a simple design has your heart fluttering at the mental image of Yeosang wearing such a thing for you.

“It’s beautiful, Hwa.” You breathe, eyes continuously taking in every minute detail

“I’m glad you like it.” He chuckles, burying his face into the side of your neck.

“Have you made any others, yet?” You turn slightly in his arms, subconsciously tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

Seonghwa hums in response, “I’ve made yours.” A pause. “And mine.”

Subtly, your fingers press a little firmer against his arms.

“Would you like to see?” There’s an undertone of excitement to his inquiry, along with a hint of nervousness.

“I would love to.” You smile, managing to turn your head to place a kiss against his temple.

Parting from you somewhat reluctantly, Hwa disappears off to the side, pulling out two separate busts. He places the first one beside Yeosang’s, but the other, he purposely hides behind his back for now.

“This one is mine.” He says, motioning to the newly placed corset resting beside Yeosang’s own.

A look of complete wonder rests on your features as you take in the detailing of the corset before you. It’s a bit simplistic in design, but still beautiful. The black material only serves to cover his lower torso, appearing to rest just below his bust. Intricate silver leaves are embroidered on the fabric, silver stitching lining the seams.

For a full minute, you do not speak. Instead, you cannot tear your vision away from the corset before you, your mind swirling with images of what Seonghwa will look like wearing such a piece of clothing for you.

You swallow thickly, you lips parting, “It’s beautiful.”

It’s hardly noticeable, but his shoulders seemingly sink in relief at your words. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“I can’t wait to see you in it.” Comes your earnest reply, shifting your gaze over to meet his own.

“Well, if you like those, then I’m now certain you’ll love your own.” The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he steps aside to reveal your own corset to you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come up to cover your mouth. You can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as your eyes go wide, nothing but excitement and love flooding your veins.

Before you rests one of the most intricate corsets you have ever seen in your entire life. The base is pure white, golden threads running throughout the fabric. Embroidered florals and leaves rest along the bodice, while the seams are lined with more of that striking gold. It’s strapless, with a slight sweetheart neckline at the top.

The exact inverse to his own corset’s design, but almost the exact same colouring to Yeosang’s.

“Seonghwa,” you manage to lower your hands as you meet his somewhat nervous gaze. “I love it!”

A radiant smile is immediately taking over his features. “You do?”

“Of course I do!” You take a step towards him to inspect the detailing of the corsets closer. “These are all incredible! Did you hand stitch these?”

“It took me some time, but I finally found a pattern I thought could suit us.” He shrugs off your words casually.

“You mean to tell me that you embroidered these yourself?” You lips part in awe.

“If it’s for someone important to me, I make all of the patterns myself.” He nods, averting his gaze somewhat shyly.

A few more steps, and you’re in front of him, cupping his cheeks gingerly in your hands.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” You gently guide his gaze to your own.

His lips twitch upwards in the corners, a warmth beginning to bloom beneath your hands and upon his cheeks.

“My Divine asked, and I am more than happy to deliver.” He whispers.

Again, you place a kiss upon his cheek.

“They’re all going to be matching, aren’t they?” You smile, turning to face the corsets once more.

“In one way or another, ours will all bear some resemblance to your own.” Seonghwa confirms, wrapping his arms around you from behind for the second time this day.

“Something tells me you have some idea when we’ll be wearing these.” You tease, poking his arm lightly.

“I do.” He hums. “Your coronation ceremony.”

Your body goes still in his arms, “Uh…”

“Don’t worry, My Divine,” he chuckles. “That’s still quite some time away.”

“But there will be one at some point.” You respond.

“At some point, yes.” He confirms, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “We still have to officially crown you as our Queen, you know.”

“Right,” You nod a few times slowly. “I guess with all that’s going on lately, I forgot about that little detail.”

“Well, it’s not quite a little detail to us.” He grins. “We’ve been thinking about it far longer than you could ever imagine.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” You tease, leaning further back into his chest.

“I was hoping for that dress to be what you wore for the ceremony, but unfortunately it seems that fate had other plans.” Seonghwa’s words are low as he exhales disappointedly.

This time, you tense.

“Seonghwa, I-“

“Wasn’t it you who told me to stop apologizing for the things that we can’t control?” He’s quick to cut you off, turning you around so that you’re facing him. Gently, he grasps your chin in his one hand, holding your gaze with his own. “All that incident told me was that I could make something better. Something truly worthy for you, and I think I already have.”

Your eyes dart beside you, almost searching for that corset that you know is just resting behind you for the moment.

“Yes, I decided to approach things from a new angle. Starting with those corsets have breathed new life into my designs.” He smiles, shifting his hand over to cup your cheek. “I know we have discussed it before, but it is important for me to say it again now: I do not, and I will never blame you for what she did. Inside of these walls, out there,” his eyes dart to the hallway, “Anywhere, or for anything for that matter. I don’t want you thinking that I do. We’ve had our disagreements in the past, but please, My Divine, never believe I would ever think for a single second that you are at fault for what she has done. I am simply glad you are safe, and most importantly, still alive.”

Your expression softens, and you find yourself lifting a hand up to rest on top of his own over your cheek. Leaning into his touch, your eyes flutter closed.

“I appreciate that, Hwa,” you breathe. “Know that I don’t blame you, either. What she did to me, to us, does not rest on your shoulders. I know you tend to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong, and if you’re still having doubts, I will be here to ease them all from your mind.”

For a moment, nothing more is said between the both of you. Instead, you opt to revel in this silence, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, and as you both cradle each other so gently in each other’s hands, you both know that everything will be okay.

“So,” a mischievous glint begins shining within your gaze as your eyes dart beside you once again, “Can I try it on?”

Ten minutes later, and you find yourself standing directly in front of that same three way panelled mirror as the very first time you entered his tailor shop. Seonghwa rests behind you, tying off the last string to the corset before fluffing out the skirt of the dress he’s temporarily paired with it.

Finally, he takes a step back to admire you.

You hear the hitch in his breath before you even lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror. Though, this time when he steps up behind you to gently place his hands onto your hips, you don’t tense.

“How you become more beautiful every time I look at you escapes all sense of logic and reason.” He breathes out, the ghost of his breath tickling the side of your neck.

The giggle you give him in response is music to his ears.

“You never seem to hold onto logic whenever you’re around me.” You tease, smoothing out the front of the skirt you’re wearing.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” He places a tender kiss against your neck, right above your racing pulse. “You look breathtaking, My Divine.”

A bashful smile pulls at your lips, your heart racing in your chest. “Thank you.”

Slowly, Hwa makes his way to your front, trailing his hand delicately along your side as he does so. You can feel his gaze roaming every inch of your bodice as he comes to stand before you, his eyes dark, yet calculating.

“Are you comfortable? I didn’t do it too tight to begin with, but I can still make adjustments if need be.” He comments, glancing upwards briefly into your eyes.

“Everything feels fine, Hwa.” You assure him. “I am quite comfortable right now, and I mean that in more than one way.”

His eyes flash black, hands smoothing down your sides in a tender caress. He smiles. “I’m glad.”

“I mean it, Seonghwa.” Gently, you take his hands into your own, stepping down from that little platform in order to be closer to him. “I know you’ve been cautious this whole time since I entered here today of overstepping boundaries again.” The way you can feel his hands tense the slightest bit in your hold from your words says it all. “You don’t have to worry about that, anymore. You can touch me, Hwa. I promise I won’t run away this time.”

There is nothing but absolute adoration shining behind Seonghwa’s eyes as he meets your own. A love that you can feel in the way he gently squeezes your hands in his own. Even more so when he leans forward to place a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“Believe me, My Divine,” he keeps his voice low as he pulls away only to lean his forehead against your own. “You don’t realize how often my thoughts swirl with my desires for you. I’d just rather wait until after your coronation to rip this corset off of your body and take you in every and any way that you desire me to.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, “Oh.”

Seonghwa smirks. “Yes, ‘oh’.”

“Well, I might request that the corsets don’t get torn to shreds if we can help it.” You giggle. “Seems a waste to do so to such beautiful pieces of clothing.”

“I can always make more.” He quirks a brow.

“But none of them would be the first.” You rest your hands upon his shoulders. “They wouldn’t hold the same meaning.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, taking a small step away to admire you once more. “One of these days, I’m tearing one of my designs right off of you, though.”

“Something tells me you already have something in mind.” You grin knowingly.

“I’ve got a few things.” He hums, grinning right back.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement as you close the distance between the both of you once more. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers delicately lacing through the hair at the back of his neck.

“I’ll model for you anytime, Mars,” The words are but a sultry whisper on your lips, eyes hooding over as you stare deeply into his. “You just let me know the time and place.”

“Don’t give me even more ideas, My Divine,” His voice is but a low rumble as he pulls you flush against his chest. “You already know how hard it is for me to control myself around you.”

You lean into him closer, lips nearly ghosting his own.

His breathing deepens, hands tightening around your waist.

“Then, how delectable it will be when I finally let you indulge.”

A shudder caresses his spine, nothing but a low growl escaping his lips.

Again, you giggle, pulling away from him with a vibrant smile on your lips. Turning slightly, you face the mirror beside you.

“I do like the style of this dress, though.” You say, acting completely oblivious to the raging storm of desire you’ve just ignited within Seonghwa who is barely controlling his breathing while standing right beside you. “You just had this laying around?”

“Believe it or not,” his voice is a little strained as he attempts to calm himself down, “I’ve had quite a few things already made for you for some time now.”

This piques your interest. “Oh?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time making things for you, My Divine.” He clears his throat lightly, straightening himself. “Yunho isn’t the only one with you as his muse.”

Your heart warms, a loving smile tugging at your features. “I am glad to be able to inspire you so.”

A tender smile in response is all that you get.

“Does this mean you still have all of those dresses from that first dinner?” You tilt your head, nothing but curiosity reflected in your eyes.

“I do.” He nods once in confirmation.

A moment later, Seonghwa has moved off to the side, pulling a curtain back to reveal a row of dresses hanging delicately along a rack. Familiar dresses. The only one that’s missing is his.

Realization crosses your features, those all too familiar mental strings flashing in your mind.

“You made all of them. Not just for me, but for them, too.”

His lips twitch upwards in the corners, “They told me what they wanted, and I did my best to bring their visions to life.”

You step towards the rack, gazing at the dresses akin to how you looked at them the very first time you saw them. Delicately, you pull each one out to take in the full detail.

“Of course Wooyoung would make his a wedding dress,” you chuckle, looking over the beadwork of the princess style ballgown.

“You can’t blame the man,” Seonghwa chuckles along with you. “We were all eager for you to finally come to us.”

“Believe me,” you meet his gaze, moving on to the lavender gown next. “I know.”

Again, you pull out the satin material, noticing how the thin straps give way to a very low back. The triangle cups on the front before the bodice begin also leave no room to the imagination.

“I do love the style of this dress, but there was no way I was going to wear it back then.” You gently rub the smooth material between your thumb and forefinger. At the mildly confused look Seonghwa gives you, you’re quick to continue, “Open invitation to stare at my chest; my boobs would have been practically falling out.”

Seonghwa nearly tumbles over while standing upright.

“I’m not about to go to dinner with men that I don’t know with my chest on full display.” You joke.

“We would have been respectful!” Seonghwa immediately attempts to defend both himself and his brothers.

“Right.” You snort out a laugh. “And Yeosangie isn’t a boob’s guy.”

The tips of Seonghwa’s ears being to burn bright red.

“In his favourite colour, no less.” You hum, clearly amused. “Granted, he’s much more subtle than some of your brothers. Mingi isn’t very good at hiding when he’s staring at my ass, his gaze can be quite intense. Thinks he being subtle, too.”

“I’ll let him know.” Seonghwa clears his throat.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” you turn to meet Seonghwa’s gaze briefly, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nice to know I’m wanted.” You turn back to the row of dresses. “Though, maybe keep the eye-fucking for when we’re not in public, yeah?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Seonghwa grins, a small chuckle escaping him. “Though, I can’t promise you much.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you shoot a playful wink in his direction before pulling out the emerald green dress next. “Speaking of dear Mingles.”

“If anyone but you called him that, they’d be decapitated by now.” Seonghwa jokes, shifting to pull out his chair before taking a seat to continue watching you go through all of the dresses he made for you for that one night.

“Good thing I’m not just anybody.” You grin, observing the way the material of the strapless goddess wrap falls from the hanger.

The material pinches in one place on the left side, allowing for a sort of angled hemline which ends just above your knees. The wrap of the dress is meticulous, silver gems serving to pin the wrap in place, glittering beneath the lights of the tailor shop around you.

“No,” he agrees with a hum, leaning back in his seat as he observes you with a loving gaze, “you’re not.”

Moving on to the next gown, you pull out what had been your second choice for that evening all those months ago.

The red dress is just as beautiful as you remember, the capped sleeves giving way to the sweetheart neckline. Tulle flows from the waistline and all the way to the floor in a seamless line, accentuating the length of the gown. Though, as you pull the skit, you realize that there seems to be a slit running all the way up the side, hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Do you think it would have been easier or harder for me to stab him wearing his dress?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone as you turn to face Seonghwa once more.

“My Divine, I think you underestimate the power you hold when we see you wear something of our own design.” He remarks. At the way you quirk a brow, he continues, “If you wore that dress for him… hell, if you wore anything red for him, you could get him to do anything that you want. No questions asked.”

Your eyes widen significantly, pure mirth dancing within. “Good to know.”

“The same goes for every single one of us.” He sighs, somewhat dreamily as he rests his elbow on the arm of his chair. His head is in his hand, and you can just tell by that fond look in his eyes that he’s vividly reminiscing you wearing his own gown for him all those long months ago.

The next dress you pull out to look at is a beautiful bright yellow. It’s strapless, and the skirt falls like a waterfall - short in the front before it lengthens in the back. The material is chiffon, wrapping around the bodice in a sort of layered pattern.

“Simple, yet elegant.” You comment. “It’s fitting for Yunho.”

“He has always been a simple man, in that sense.” Seonghwa agrees.

That soft smile rests on your features as you delicately place Yunho’s dress back onto the rack. Almost lovingly, you trace your hands over the fabric one last time before moving on to the soft pink dress right beside it. Pulling it off of the rack, you hum.

The lightness of the fabric falls delicately against your one hand as you see the over the shoulder straps. There seem to be two sets: one the would hang just over your collarbones, while the other falls just past your shoulders, both thin yet sturdy. The style reminds you of old fantasy games, where fairies would wear pastels, their wings fluttering behind them. The ruffled seam along the top leads into the straps that fall just over your shoulders, bodice form fitting while the skirt falls delicately in a solid piece of soft fabric to rest just below your knees.

“Sometimes, I forget how soft you all can be.” You hum pleasantly, heart swelling as you place San’s dress back onto the rack.

When you first met San, you interpreted him to be all sharp angles and brute strength. At least, that’s how he appeared to you.

A vision of him purposely flaunting himself off beside the pool flashes through your mind briefly.

Now, of course, you know differently, and this dress only serves to prove what you already know.

You smile.

Last, but certainly not least, you pull out the final dress in the row.

The youngest’s dress is probably the shortest of the bunch, the deep maroon accenting the black velvet pattern of roses found throughout. It’s quite simple in design, small slits on either side along the edges of the skit to make moving in the dress easier. The top is strapless, body formfitting.

“Something tells me Jongho was hoping a little too hard for this one.” You quirk a brow, turning to look at Seonghwa who suddenly avoids your gaze. “Ohoho, so he wasn’t the only one hoping for this one.”

“If we’re being honest, it was my second choice.” Seonghwa mumbles, still not being able to meet your eyes.

“Do I want to know?” You tease, nothing but amusement shining in your eyes.

“I wasn’t the only one!” Seonghwa attempts to defend himself, raising his hands in front of his chest.

“Yes, Mars, we’ve established that.” You chuckle. “It’s a wonder the shortest dress is the most popular.”

“Nothing to do with it being the tightest, either…” He mumbles, clearing his throat quite loudly afterwards.

You laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides as you begin teasing them about being your ‘damn horny Kings’ yet again.

“How you managed to get my measurements right is beyond me.” You shake your head, tutting lightly.

“It took me some time, but I do have almost perfect spacial reasoning.” He replies, somewhat nonchalantly.

You raise a hand, shaking your head lightly, “I don’t even want to know.”

“You seemed curious.” He shrugs.

“Wait, how long did it take you to make these?” Your brow furrows slightly as you shift your gaze back to the dresses on the rack beside you.

Seonghwa takes a moment to think about his answer, humming lightly to himself. “Probably about three months. Give or take a week.”

“Three months?” Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head.

“Yeah, I worked on them practically non-stop.” He recalls. “I mean, my own design took me the longest with all of the lace, but if I set my mind to something, it normally doesn’t take me very long to do. Or, well, create.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times before his words are truly sinking in.

“Seonghwa,” you turn to him, “How long did it take you to make your dress for me?”

He pauses, looking upwards as he mentally tallies the days. “About a month.”

You mouth falls open. “You spent a month working on a single dress? For me?”

“I had to make sure it was perfect.” He shrugs.

Your expression softens as you move to kneel before him as he rests in his chair. Ever so gently, you clasp his hands in your own, his words from earlier echoing throughout your head.

“You weaved the lace by hand, didn’t you?” Your inquiry is a bit airy, warmth swelling in your chest as you stare deeply into his eyes. “Just like you embroidered this by hand, too.”

The way he glances down at the corset you wear is answer enough, but he still nods softly along with your words.

A tender smile graces your lips. “You are incredible, you know that?”

Again, he averts his gaze somewhat bashfully. “It’s not much.”

“Seonghwa, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You glance up at him through your lashes.

“To be fair, you said it yourself, we’ve had quite a few rough patches already.” He once again shrugs your praise off. “It never felt like the right time, and I didn’t want it to appear like I was boasting.”

You’re silent for a moment, pursing your lips slightly as you appear deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind, My Divine?” His hand gently cupping your face has you meeting his gaze once more.

“I wish I had known.” There’s a slight downturn of your lips, a hint of guilt shining behind your eyes. “I had an inkling you had made it for me, but I didn’t realize the extent you went to.”

“It’s alright, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles fondly. “You don’t need to feel bad for this.”

“But I almost threw it off my balcony.” Nothing but pure regret pulls at your features.

“But you didn’t.” He reminds you.

“As scared, confused, and upset I was, I couldn’t do that to such a beautiful dress.” You admit lowly. “Especially not to one that actually made me feel beautiful after so long of believe I wasn’t.”

“I’m just happy to know you liked my design enough to choose it first.” He cups your face gently, placing a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“I should wear it again.” A casual admittance from you has him freezing right in his spot. “A dress like that shouldn’t be worn only once, Mars. It’s wasted sitting on a hanger, and not worn for its intended purpose.”

“You would wear it again?” He pulls away to meet your gaze, eyes shining with his barely contained awe and happiness. “For me?”

“I plan to wear everything you’ve ever made for me at some point, Hwa.” You admit lowly. “Everything you will make for me.”

His brow quirks teasingly, “Even the wedding dress?”

You grin right along with him, “Even the wedding dress.”

“I know for a fact that Wooyoung won’t be the only one who wants to see you in that.” His gaze drifts to the row of dresses behind you.

“I think your brothers have long since earned seeing me in their own dress designs.” You hum, turning your head to glance back at the aforementioned gowns. “As a treat.”

“You might want to time Jongho’s for when none of us are home, except him.” Seonghwa warns, helping you back to your feet as he stands from his chair. “You may not get to him if one of us sees you in that first.”

“Is that a promise?” You quirk a brow playfully.

“A Divine Temptress, that’s what you are.” Seonghwa shakes his head, stroking his thumb lovingly against your cheek.

“Only for My Kings.” You giggle, shooting him a playful wink as you walk back over to the stand.

Seonghwa follows behind, a fond smile on his features as he watches you step back onto that little pedestal. Again, you turn to face the mirrors, smoothing out the front of the dress as you examine your reflection closely.

All is silent for the moment as he looks you over carefully, noting the somewhat subtle twitch of your fingers over the material of the gown.

“You know you can tell me whatever is on your mind.” He voices softly. “If you don’t like something, I won’t be upset.”

You take a moment to straighten your spine before clearing your throat, “You said you haven’t started on the new dress to match this yet, right?”

“That is correct.” He confirms with a nod, a sort of amused gleam shining behind his eyes.

“I- uh-“ you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, averting your gaze so sweetly to the side.

“Do you have something in mind?” Seonghwa is a little too eager when he asks this.

Softly, you nod your head. “But if you already have an idea, I don’t want to-“

“My Divine,” he cuts you off with a lighthearted chuckle, moving to stand in front of you. A second later, he gently grasps your hands in his own. “Never be afraid to ask me to make you something. I would be more than happy to create for you whatever vision you have in that beautiful mind of yours.”

A reassuring squeeze is felt against your hands.

“What if…” you trail off lightly before finally meeting his gaze. “What if we designed it together?”

Seonghwa goes so still, you swear he might pass out. That is, until he’s blinking rapidly, almost as if to clear tears from his vision.

“You want to design a dress with me?” His voice is a bit airy, coming out a bit choked from his overwhelming emotions.

At your eager nod, a brilliant smile stretches across his features.

Again, he squeezes your hands, shaking them back and forth lightly in his excitement. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you already have the corset,” you begin, an eager grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

He nods.

“So, I was thinking…”

A moment later, and you’re opening up your void to him, the mental image of you in a very specific dress filling his thoughts.

You can hear his sudden intake of breath, his eyes widening slightly as his heart stutters in his chest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer, his lips parting in awe at the vision that paints his mind.

Seonghwa clears his throat, swallowing the sudden dryness there. “I can do that.”

You smile, placing a kiss onto his cheek. “We can do that.”

Seonghwa laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he wraps you into his arms. A moment later, and he lifts you into the air, spinning you around once as a joyous shriek of surprise escapes your lips.

“Hwa, put me down!” Your laughter strongly contradicts your statement as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

Gently, he settles you back onto your feet on that little pedestal. Still, he holds you to him, gazing at you with nothing but love and affection in his dark eyes.

“I love you, My Divine,” he squeezes you the slightest bit tighter as he says this. “So much.”

You smile tenderly at him, cupping his face softly in your hands. “I love you, Seonghwa.”

Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips.

He swallows. “May I?”

You decide to tease him a little longer.

“May you, what?” You quirk a brow.

“May I kiss-“

He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his inquiry before your lips are on his own.

A pleased hum reverberates in his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer, one hand settling on the back of your head while the other rests between your shoulder blades.

Kissing you is a feeling unlike any other to Seonghwa, and he revels in it each time. He can never get enough - your touch, your laugh, your smile - anything and everything about you, he adores, and he’s sure to pour all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. You are all that he needs.

All too soon, you’re parting from him to rest your forehead against his own.

“You make me so incredibly happy, My Divine.” He breathes out, his eyes still closed as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you. “It means the world to me that you wish to design something together.”

“It’s like I told San before,” you reply lowly. “I want to spend more time with each of you doing what you love to do. You’ve all done so much for me, I think it’s time I return the favour.”

“My Queen.” The way his eyes shine with unshed tears says it all.

“I’m just sorry I can’t make anything like this for you, yet.” You briefly motion to the corset you’re still wearing.

“Well,” he laughs, “I do have a few thousand years on you.”

“Just a few.” You grin right along with him. “Maybe I’ll make you a scarf, or something.”

“A scarf?” He quirks a brow.

“I do know how to crochet, Mars.” You chuckle. “Though, you wouldn’t really have a use for it.”

“If you made me a scarf, I would never take it off.” He says, matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know how durable it would be constantly getting wet in the shower,” you hum, almost absentmindedly to yourself.

“You’ve never asked us for yarn before,” he mumbles, brow furrowing in thought.

“To be fair, there have been quite a few other things on my mind.” You poke his cheek lightly.

“I suppose you’re right.” He nods in agreement.

“You ‘suppose’?” You quirk a brow playfully.

“I, uh-“

“I’m just teasing you.” You hum, burying your face into the side of his neck as you hug him close to you. “Besides, I’m surprised my grandmother hasn’t told you that yet. I also know how to knit.”

“Surprisingly, I haven’t seen her around much, lately.” He replies, helping you straighten out the dress again once you part from him.

“I wonder why,” you mumble, somewhat absentmindedly to yourself.

“Baby!”

Just then, the bell above the door to the shop jingles, and both you and Seonghwa are turning to see a frantic San rushing through the door. Both Mingi and Wooyoung are behind him, excitement shining within their eyes.

That’s when you notice, San seems to be holding onto your phone.

“It’s Vasco.” He says, holding out the phone to you with a large smile tugging at his features. “Crystal’s gone into labour.”

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pastelspoon31 · 11 months ago

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Chapter 2: What a nice neighbour! (Older!König x Younger!Reader)

tw: age gap (early 20s reader, AT LEAST mid-40s König), no sexy time in this one- just König being a creep :(

A/N: I love adding backstories for creepy König behaviour hehehe :3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2| Chapter 3 | > Masterlist

The first time König saw you was much earlier. In fact, it was the first day you moved in that he spotted you. You were noticably much younger than him, and you carried a heavy cardboard box, a box you kept fidgeting with and adjusting, which kept you from seeing him.

"Billy! Quit playing with your phone and help me open the door- ah!" Your then boyfriend, Billy, had walked into you, as he was distracted by whatever he was doing on his phone, and he didn't seem to be sorry either. The box you'd been holding dropped, and the contents, including a few small glass items, fell onto the floor.

"Geez, babe! You really shouldn't be blocking the way like that!" He'd said, and you had apologized profusely. You began to pick up your things, but Billy had stepped on your hand, and he'd laughed as you'd yelped. "Oh shit, sorry babe." He would apologise but didn't help you clean up. You picked up the things you'd dropped and ran inside, embarrassed.

So you were 'one of those' young girls who were so desperate for love that they'd date a douchebag like that.

He'd been disgusted at the time, but the more he saw Billy treat you the way he did, and the more you tolerated his bullshit behavior- the less he cared about that.

Maybe it's good for you to learn the hard way, it'll be a good lesson for you.

...Or so König thought.

König received a small bag of cookies, hanging on his doorknob the next day. A small card illustrating a cute bunny holding a heart, was taped to the bag.

'Sorry for the noises yesterday :( I'm your newly moved in neighbour from unit 309! Please take these as an apology and a welcome gift <3 Sincerely, (Y/N)'

He took the gift and the card, and placed it inside his drawer.

It's a waste to throw out such a thoughtful gift, after all...

———

The secret photographs started not long after.

After retiring from his position in KorTac, König was left with a huge pension and plenty of free time. He didn't know what to do with himself most of the time.

His younger self had always wanted to indulge in his artistic side, and had taken an interest in photography.

Naturally, he bought a huge DSLR camera, and began to use it often, and not long after, he began to take photos of his new neighbour.

It wasn't his main intention at first, he was NOT a pervert!

But one day, as he was taking pictures of the birds flying in the orange sky from the balcony, he couldn't help but catch the sight of you in your private area from the corner of his eye.

The conjoined nature of your balcony and the lack of wall to divide the space between yours and his balcony made it almost too easy for him to admire you in your lack of clothing as you walked around in your tight little tanktop and panties.

He could easily step over the rail that was lower than his waist dividing your balcony space and his.

König spent a good half and hour watching you, and taking photos, and it didn't even occur to him that this was, in fact, creepy.

When you went back inside, and König was left to stare at the sliding door that was closed, his mind became clear again, and he felt guilt.

But not guilty enough to break into your house and take more pictures of you while you slept, of course.

Besides, it's not like he's touching you or anything~

#konig #könig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #call of duty #könig smut #neighbour könig

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twilightmalachite · 7 months ago

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Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

#esu sagiri #idol #translation #subaru akehoshi

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kirain · 1 year ago

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Tav: Oh my gods ... it's happening. It's happening! Everyone, come quick!

Astarion: What the hells are you shouting about? It's barely four o'clock in the bloody morning. I know you don't get it, but I prefer to rise when the sun does.

Tav: It's the egg! It's hatching!

Shadowheart: The one you got from the githyanki crèche? You mean you still have it?

Tav: Of course! You didn't really think I'd give it to that crazy baby-snatcher, did you?

Gale: Shh, shh! Everyone, calm yourselves and be silent. I may not look it, but I know quite a bit about child-rearing. I read many books on the subject when I was Mystra's Chosen, and as I understand it, newborns require low, serene noises when they're brought into the world. Anything too stentorian could overwhelm the poor babe.

Lae'zel: That is perhaps the case for you pitiful, soft, fragile humans, but githyanki offspring are born with an innate sense of—

Tav: Quiet! It's hatching!

Narrator: The egg stirs and shakes, then cracks as the inhabitant kicks at its confines. After a few moments of struggle, the shell breaks, pieces of green and yellow debris sliding off the newborn's slender frame. Free at last, it looks up at you, is eyes narrow but full of wonder, then mews like a kitten looking for its mother.

Karlach: Ohhh-ho-ho-ho-hooo my gods! It's so cute! Look at its little feet and droopy ears! And look that that: born with a full set of tiny chompers! I want to squeeze it and never let go!

Lae'zel: Githyanki offspring are not "cute"...

Astarion: That's for damn sure. It looked like a jaundiced monkey.

Wyll: Heheh. Well, it's certainly something. It's ... well, I'm not actually sure. What is it, exactly?

Lae'zel: A soldier.

Wyll: I meant the sex.

Lae'zel: Oh. A boy.

Wyll: Welcome to the world, little man! We're going to have so much fun. I'll teach you how to use a blade and defend the innocent and—!

Shadowheart: Hold that thought, why don't you? You're getting way ahead of yourself. This is a tremendous responsibility. What do we even do? Lae'zel?

Lae'zel: What? Why are you looking at me?

Shadowheart: Because out of everyone here, I would assume a githyanki knows best how to raise a githyanki child.

Lae'zel: I know nothing of raising hatchlings. It's not my place.

Shadowheart: Lady Shar protect us ... and this child.

Tav: Don't be so defeatist. We'll be fine!

Gale: Absolutely. How hard can it be? An infant is an infant. He's probably hungry, so let's tackle that problem first. Come here, little one!

Lae'zel: I wouldn't—

Narrator: Gale reaches down and scoops the young hatchling into his arms. At first the creature seems confused, pensive even. Then, its pupils shrink, its teeth clenching. It growls like a caged animal and claws at the wizard's face. Luckily for him, it misses, but the battle is far from over. In a rage, the creature twists its body, then sinks its teeth into Gale's hand, latching onto it in a fit of fury.

Gale: Ow, ow, ow! Aaaugh!

Lae'zel: Typical.

Narrator: Gale attempts to shake the vicious newborn off, waving his arm up and down like a madman, but to no avail. The creature holds steadfast, almost mockingly.

Gale: A hand would be very much appreciated!

Karlach: Ask the babe. He already has an extra one.

Everyone: *Laughs*

Astarion: Well ... I wasn't too keen on the idea at first, but perhaps keeping the creepy little morsel around isn't such a bad idea after all.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #tav #bg3 tav #astarion #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #karlach #githyanki

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quinny19 · 4 months ago

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He's kinda cute?

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Sampo x gn reader ( gender neutral)

Warning ⚠⚠⚠ n/a

haaa Tsundere reader?

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛♛┈⛧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈⛧┈♛♛┈⛧┈┈•

Another day has come and yet why does this annoying yet cute dark blue haired man always finds his way to annoying you and your day..

Sampo's expertise is tempting to seek out, or easy for someone else to approach him but becoming his "customer" can be risky. Knowing him he will just sweet talk the people and try to get away with whatever problems he has got himself into again.

you heard his voice calling you from afar

*please please don't follow me,* you thought as you try desperately to walk away from him but only for you to fail.

....

" are you joking me right now? "

Sampo snickered at her response, clearly amused by her reaction."Oh, I never joke about things when it comes to you "He said as he took a step closer to you.

his gaze locked onto you, not backing down even an inch.

You step back but only for him to step closer yet again

*he's too close!!!* trying to keep a straight face,trying not to show that he has a huge effect on you

He flashed a sly smile, his eyes full of mischief. " I knew I'd find you here... "

"how the hell did you know i was here?"

Sampo chuckled at your reply. clearly enjoying getting some sort of reaction out of you. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest."Oh, my dear, I know many things. Some might say I’m a master of observation." He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief."And as for how I knew you were here... let’s just say I have my way,I can't just go telling other people my secret ya know~."

"Wow totally not creepy at all" giving a sarcastic tone at your voice as you look at him with a blank face.

"Oh, come on Y/n! I prefer the term ‘resourceful.’"He chuckled, clearly enjoying the conversation you two are having right now. "And speaking of resources, I have a question for you." Raising a eyebrow at him you said " and that is? "

Sampo pushed himself off from the wall, approaching you with a smirk still on his face."It’s quite a simple question, really. Just one question..."He paused for a moment, his gaze looking on you"Do you trust me?"

" what the heck is that sort of question?!"

*What the heck is he on about?! Wait wait is he asking me out?! Wait what?! Hold on a minute Y/n ! You don't have time for being delusional * *sigh I guess reading all those fan fiction is making me lose my mind*

Sampo chuckled. He took a step closer, now standing only a few inches away from you. "Because I have a proposal for you, one that might benefit both of us."

*gasp marriage perhaps!?* *aghh!!!! Y/n stop stop!!! Stop thinking about this thing he might take advantage of you!*

*sigh but he's kinda cute and funny and - *

*I said stop!*

"If you're gonna invite me to scam some poor people then I'm out " you reply , inside of you is screaming at yourself for replying a little rude to him

*my goodness Y/n atleast let him finish don't just go thinking the worst *

Sampo chuckled, amused by her feisty attitude."Oh, my dear, Y/n scamming is just one aspect of my craft. There's so much more to life than that."

*ok never mind*

He took a step back, a sly smile playing on his lips."No, I have something else in mind for you. Something that'll give you a taste of the good life."

*good life? Ahhh a married life with h-*

"Ahh yeah total not gonna steal something with you if Gepard finds out you will be so much trouble! You know that and it's not like I'm saying this because I care about you or anything! "

*i do care (╥ω╥`) about you sampo*

Sampo’s smile only grew wider at their response. He chuckled, clearly amused by Y/n's concern for his safety."Oh, my lovely Y/n. You're absolutely right, I would be in for some serious trouble if Gepard finds out. But that's part of the thrill and excitement, isn’t it?"He leaned in close, his voice lowering to a whisper."Besides, I know how to keep things in control , Gepard won't even know about what's coming hehehe"

"Nope I'm out". Walking away yet again not because you want to get away from him but not to show your flattered face in front of him

You look like a tomato from afar.

Sampo watches you walk away, disappointment momentarily flickering across his face. He lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest."Oh, come on, don’t be like that!" he calls after you. a hint of irritation in his voice.He takes a few strides, quickly catching up to you. He grabs your arm gently but firmly, preventing you from walking further away anymore

*he's touching me!!! It's like one of the romance novals where the other protagonist catch up to the main character and tell them 'i love you' *

*get a hold of your self Y/n!!!*

*Sigh* turning around you...

You Glared t him " let. Go."

*no no no (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣ᴺᴼᴼ~ that wasn't I wanted to say!!!!*

Sampo meets your glare.

With q smirk, clearly enjoying the challenge."Now, now, no need to get so feisty."He doesn’t release his grip on your arm, his hand remaining firm but not painful."I can’t just let you walk away like that, especially after that delightful conversation we were having." What the heck is wrong with him

"Tch... To me more like a bug that's annoying me" crossing your arms

Sampo’s smirk only widens at the insult, the challenge sparking something in him. He steps even closer, invading your oh so loved personal space."A bug, hm? That’s quite the comparison. I’d say I’m more of a prince charming." He leans in closer, his voice lowering to a soft murmur."And you can’t deny that you find me intriguing, even just a little bit. I'm right am I? "

"I- I don't -" with a flasterd face now failing to hide the redness in your face

Sampo grins, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth banter. He leans in even closer, his face now inches away from hers."Oh, come now, don’t deny it, my dear Y/n. Your heart is racing, your cheeks are red. You can’t fool me."He brings a hand up, gently cupping your cheek."You find me exciting. intriguing in your own little way. Admit it~... " he said with a smirk looking straight in your eyes

"W- well I don't know what you are talking about!!! I'm going to buy some materials anyways for Pela, and don't follow me!" Walking away from him with how hot and flasterd you are feeling you can just imagine there might be a possible that steam will come on top of your head.

a mischievous shimmer in his eyes."Oh, you wound me so with your rejection, my dear Y/n .But I suppose you have responsibilities to attend to."He leans back against the nearest wall, crossing his arms."I won’t follow, for now. But I do hope our paths cross again soon. It’s dreadfully dull in this city without someone with your... flair."

*Why does he have to be so...so... CUTE!?

note : if there is any mistake pls tell me I'll edit them when I can ( •_•)つ

Y'all can send me request I'm open to almost anything just not NSFW idk how to write that or just gets red 🤣

Pls give a follow and 💗💗💗

#sampo koski #sampo x reader #hsr sampo #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #sampo x you #Sampo x y/n #Sampo #sampo hsr

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dronebiscuitbat · 3 months ago

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Give me a Reason: Chapter 14 - "Expedition (Part 2)"

Uzi finished setting up the camera, pointing it towards the mineshaft entrance and rest of the parking lot and pressing a button that made the camera blink with a red light. She took a nervous breath, before she grabbed his shoulder and made him stand next to her.

“Hey everyone! Welcome to the first uh… night? Field study?” She started off strong, sounding decently confident before her voice began to falter, N blinked, before speaking up himself.

“Investigation! We're ghost hunting!” He beamed into the camera, gripping Uzi's shoulder as he threw a hand up in the air in excitement. Uzi froze for a moment in his grip, before gently pushing him away.

“Right, Supernatural Investigation. I wanted to start off strong by going to the most haunted place in Copper I know of… the old mine.” She tried to match his energy, but found the feat to be impossible, any excitement came out sounding like sarcasm.

“Uh does the mine have a name?” N asked dumbly, rubbing the back of his head and turning his full attention to Uzi.

She blinked for a moment. “Not sure… it's been abandoned so long the names rubbed off.” She pointed to a very old wooden sign, the only word left legible was ‘Mine’.

“But it doesn't matter, there's a ton of rumors about this place. Hehehe.” Uzi wiggled her fingers, a small smirk gracing her face.

“Like?” N urged her to continue, unlike her, he had zero problems with the camera of their invisible audience, smiling into it like a pro.

“It's said that JCJenson experimented on the miners here in the 70's and that those tortured souls still haunt the forest around the mine, looking for vengeance.” Voice taking a creepy cadence, she look a glance at N, who looked a little spooked.

“Wait, you didn't tell me that part!” He whined, making her laugh like a gremlin.

“I had to leave some secrets! That's what makes it fun.”

After that, they continued to flim, Uzi taking a long establishing shot of the surrounding area before picking up the camera in her hands, ready to start exploring.

“Ready N?” She asked, sticking her thumb up in front of the camera before turning to him, he looked nervous, sweat visible on his cheek. Fumbling with his hands.

“Ah… yeah! I guess!” He gave a wary thumbs up before Uzi took the lead, getting close up shots of the rusted out vehicles and N cutely waving on the other side of car through the window at her.

It was the mouth of the mine next, N next to her as she took an approaching shot up to the darkened maw, looking inside where darkness took over within a few feet in, almost oppressive.

“Wanna go in?” She teased, watching N look reprochfully at the mouth of the mine, at her question he took several steps back, shaking his head.

“No! Nope I'm good!.” He quickly replied, his hands out in front of him as he backed up, and she couldn't help but laugh.

This… this was fun, which was something she hadn't felt while out with another person in a long time. N was the perfect partner for something like this, he was easily freaked out, reacting with fear at the slightest noise or movement. Which meant of course, it was endlessly fun messing with him by intentionally snapping sticks or pointing out a nonexistent shadow.

There wasn't any real evidence of ghostly activity, and most of the footage was nothing but them talking while trudging through the underbrush, or small landmarks, like discarded mining equipment or trees that looked exceptionally creepy.

“Oooh, what's that?” N spoke up after a small lull in conversation. At this point, the sun was going down, making the shadows on the forest floor look longer and more intimidating, and the air had begun to cool.

N was pointing off into the distance, where there was a strange shape through the trees, it almost looked like…

“A cabin! Sweet! Let's check it out!” Uzi immediately started sprinting towards it, only vaguely hearing N's yelling of her name as she hyperfocused on it, and only stopped until she was directly in front of it.

The cabin was old, extremely old, the wooden siding sloughing off with rot, the windows had been cracked, some shattered, and every one of them boarded up in some capacity, a stone chimney breached to top of it, and a rusty pickaxe sat on the outside of the door.

Thumping footsteps came up behind her, along with exhausted panting and a grumble. “Man you are fast Uzi…” She turned the camera to face him, catching him resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

All she responded with was another maniacal giggle. “Oh come on, your legs are like double the length of mine, don't be a baby.”

When N did catch his breath, he looked up at the cabin in awe, taking note of every detail. He pulled the radio out of his pocket, and turned it on.

Static.

“Might get something if we go inside.” Uzi suggested, clambering onto the rotten porch and gesturing to the door, N in response, looked horrified.

“That's breaking and entering!” He seethed.

“Nobody lives here! It'll be fine!” Uzi replied, adjusting the camera in one hand as she reached our for the rusted handle, the metal trying to fall apart in her hand as she gave it a turn.

The doorknob crunched as corroded metal attempted to move, groaning and grinding before stopping suddenly.

“Locked.” Uzi grumbled, and N couldn't help but inwardly jump for joy. No more illegal activities today, thank you.

“Hey, maybe we can head back and try this out at the entrance to the mine?” He suggested, before noticing Uzi lifting up the moth-eaten welcome mat and making an ‘Ah-Hah!’ noise.

And lifting up an ancient looking key with a shit eating grin.

N gulped, climbing up into the rotten porch, holding onto his little radio like he could use it as weapon, his eyes darting in every direction as Uzi unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The door creaked heavily, as if it was surprised it was being used after so long, the air inside was musty and damp, with the smell of mildew permeating into their nostrils and almost making N recoil in disgust.

“Cool” Uzi noted, taking a few steps inside, using her phone as a flashlight. The light bouncing around the inside of the one room cabin.

There was a ratted out double bed stuffed into the corner, still made and ready for someone to tuck into, a nightstand next to it, covered in stacked, now ruined books. There was a small kitchen surrounding the stone hearth, and a dining table that had fallen apart into a heap.

N looked at his radio.

Static.

“Looks like this place hasn't been touched since the mine shut down.” Uzi hummed as she picked up one of the books on the nightstand;

The Anatomy of The Soul.

N was directly behind her, not quite touching her, but it was clear he wanted to, hovering just above her shoulder as he scrunched in on himself, trying to make himself look small.

“Chicken.” She teased, causing him to pout into the camera.

“Am not!’ He protested, before yelping like a little girl at a spider that decided that the moment was perfect to drop in front of his face.

“Mmhm, sure buddy.” Uzi chuckled, before heading over into the remains of the kitchen, picking up an old fire-stoker and whipping it around like it was a sword.

He-ll-ooo

Both teens froze in shock as N's radio suddenly blasted out a noise that wasn't static, N himself holding it far away from him as if it would attack him. And Uzi dropping the stoker with a loud clatter.

“Holy- Oh my god we actually got something!” Uzi exclaimed, looking excited as she closed the distance between N and herself.

“Hello. Can you hear me?” She spoke into the room as clearly and loudly as she could, ignoring the fact N was trembling and scanning every corner of the room for any sort of movement.

Static

More Static

“Maybe it was a flu-”

Y-es. Came distorted out of the radio, shutting N up instantly, the voice sounded distinctly female, if not slightly monotone. N whimpered softly.

“What is your name? What happened to you?” Uzi asked again, smile getting wider as she lifted the camera to scan the entire room.

There was another small beat of silence.

H-hurt. Coool-d. Tru- Bettt-raye-d

Uzi looked at N again, who honestly looked like he was about to pass out. But she couldn't contain her excitement, proof! Actual proof of something supernatural!

H-help. Wire. S-shockkk. Tr-rappp-ed.

“Who hurt you?” Uzi asked, before feeling a light chill go up her back, making every hair stand on end suddenly, for a moment- just a moment, she could see her own breath.

But no reply ever came.

“Nope! We're leaving!” N suddenly said, grabbing her by the wrist and all but dragging her own of the cabin, she jumped at his touch, being several degrees warmer then her own normal temperature. Her cheeks warmed too.

“H-Hey! I wasn't finished!” She protested, though she didn't make any true effort to fight him, letting herself be lead back through the forest, until they were back in the overgrown parking lot.

“I am! I've seen horror movies!” N replied, sounding truly freaked. Uzi only pouted slightly, adjusting the camera again.

“I wanted to communicate with the dead…”She whined when he finally released her a safe distance from the accursed cabin, making N turn to her with a half-amused smile, lined by incredulity.

“What the heck is wrong with you?” At first, that comment hit her directly in the heart, thinking that he was judging her in some way, thinking that she was weird or creepy for being totally into the paranormal.

But the soft smile on his face and genuine look in his eye made her realize he meant it positively, he wasn't judging, he was fascinated. And possibly also slightly intimidated at how fearless she seemed to be.

So she just shrugged. “I dunno. I just think it's more cool then scary.”

N gave her a breathless laugh in return.

“You're way braver then me then, I don't- er didn't even believe in ghosts until now!” He tangled his hands in his hair, looking incredibly perturbed at this revelation.

“Oh Biscuits! Ghosts are real! I'm never going to ever sleep again…” He admitted, causing a very soft giggle to escape Uzi's mouth.

“Easy, Scoob. As much as I was excited… it easily could have been the radio picking up bits of broadcasts… it's nothing concrete.” She replied, feeling that little bit of disappointment rise within her, knowing she was entirely correct, even if she didn't want to be.

“Sooo… no ghost?” He blinked.

“Sooo, maybe ghost.” She replied, sighing and looking at her phone for the time. 8:55 “We only have about an hour left, we should crawl out of here before it's too dark to see.”

He glanced back at the direction of the cabin like he was looking for something to appear before sighing.

“We're… not ever going back in there… are we?” He looked at her, a spot on impression of puppy dog eyes that made her heart skip and immediately turn away, an angry blush on her face, before it was replaced with a teasing smirk.

“No promises~”

“Uzi!”

She laughed as she lead them back out of the woods, making sure to pick up their supplies.

Yeah… this was fun. Maybe she didn't have to be so distant with this one.

Next->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #give me a reason #for some reason this turned out more funny then spooky... kinda dig it?#n's a little bitch #/pos #uzi's a little shit #/also pos

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nshtn · 4 months ago

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HEHEHE HII IM A MUTUAL BUT IM A LITTLE TOO SHY!!!! anyways i've been loving creed ed!! i need him more icky... and yucky.... i love it. what's his favorite petnames/nicknames he'd like to use? maybe he realizes you perk up at a specific name and he starts getting really giddy and starts calling you that more often?

hi dear!! you're so sweet! he is the spore creepy cute part pack boy <3 speaking of...

tw kidnapping, being bound !!

The Beginning:

Dearest (confuses you), little hostage (makes you cower), silly (condescending), friend (code word), bunny (condescending), bambi (very condescending), pretty birdie (makes you cower)

Deeper in:

Dear / dearie, bun-bun / bunny (said while stimming on you), silly (when you fail a puzzle), dovey

Rooted:

Lovey-dovey / dovey / dove, dear / dearie, bun-bun, bie-bie (stimming), silly, sweetheart, honey

Just imagine him leaning really close to your ear, fully outfitted, you foisted into his lap, sing-songing out a 'pretty biiiiirdieeeee' as he adjusts your binds so your hands are bound from the front and not the back. You must keep them still or else he will grab them very, very hard (but not too hard). He's so precise, but he draws the process out far longer than necessary, gloved hands feeling around your wrists to measure them more than he should. He's making something custom.

He smells woody, salty, and like a deep dusty petrichor, devoid of anything else. You are relieved not to smell left over copper-tang lest you be scared stiff.

After he completes his measurements, he browses his computer for a few moments. You can see the litany of tabs manically sprawled across the tab bar. There are so many mysterious terminal windows. Before you can get enough info, he gently pushes you off him and ushers you to the foot of his bed before making a 'shh' gesture, glove resting at the top of your head momentarily before he disappears into the beckoning dark of his living room, leaving you with your thoughts and confusions once more.

#edward nashton #the riddler #dano riddler #riddler #creep ed #suggestive #tw suggestive #tw kidnapping #/dev/writing/

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roses-dreams-andthorns · 2 years ago

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Can i request the Mafia fish with Introvert!reader who’s rarely interact with people and they found out that they’re reader’s muse for painting art bcus all reader can think about is them HSSBSJA

I CRAVE FLUFF TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY

Mafia fish it is!! hehehe

GN! Reader

Floyd

He's quite scary to you, since he's so extroverted, and he's so engergetic, while you're just a silent, no energy person. He likes to sqeeze you quite often, so often you've begun to recognize his footsteps. Though he may be scary, you can't seem to get him off your mind, so... you make him your little guinea pig. He gets to sqeeze you? You get to use him as an art guinea pig, fair is fair, after all. Of course, you weren't gonna announce to him that he's your art guinea pig, who knows what he'd do to you...

"Whatcha drawing shrimpy-chan?" He suddenly said from behind you. He had entered your art room without you noticing, and now you've got yourself in a sticky situation, looking at him with a half shocked, half terrified look on your face. He laughs at you.

"Awww shrimpy! don't be scared! I just wanna see! Is that me?" he asks, you turn away and slowly nod, and he sqeezes you as if it were his last day on earth.

"Awwww! Shrimpy!!! You drew meeeee!" he laughs, you cough from how he's sqeezing you, and he puts you down.

You stay silent for a moment, before silently speaking, "W-well... you get to sqeeze me all the time, so.... its only fair if I get to use you as my art guinea pig in exchange..." He laughs.

"Hahahaha! Shrimpy is so funny!" he smiles with his sharp teeth, "Can I watch you draw??" He asks, you nod slowly, making him jump slightly in happiness, "yaaaay!"

Jade

Like Floyd, he's also scary to you, he's not the type of person you'd wanna get in the bad side of, though most of the time you avoid him, you do see him in the halls once in a while, and when you do, he gives you a smile that looks nice, but probably has some sinister plan underneath that has you involved. even though you've only seen him those few times, and how scary he is, you can't seem to get him out of your head, so you tend to draw him often, very regular, gentlemanly poses, nothing strange.

"an exquisite painting of me you've done, darling." you hear his voice linger behind you, making you jump, with a slight "eep!" escaping your mouth, he chuckles softly

"No need to be afraid... I quite like it." he says, smiling. you silently ask "Really?" he chuckles again.

"but of course, never had I seen someone as talented in art as you... This is because I was on your mind, yes?" he asked, dang... he caught you red handed.

Azul

Ah, yes, Azul Ashengrotto. Despite his powerful reputation as the owner of Monstro Lounge and dormleader of Octavinelle, you find him quite pretty, you two have some of the same classes together, and sometimes you can't help but secretly stare at him, you sometimes have a tendancy to draw him in your sketchbooks, in fact, 50% of your most recent sketchbook is filled with drawings of him, little notes on the drawings like "Pretty..." or "He's very cool..."

Though you haven't interacted often, he seems knows you quite well, which scares you, because, well... What if he finds your sketchbook? What will he say about all the drawings of him that are there? Would he think you're creepy? It's something you panic about almost everyday.

Your favorite place to draw is in the bontanical garden, because its just so pretty there... you sigh, as even when Azul isn't in seeing distance, you still can't seem to get him out of your head, his eyes, glasses, face, hair, personality... its all stuck in there like it was superglued in there, so you draw him. You don't draw anything strange, of course, you only draw him normally, sometimes doing full body, sometimes doing bust-up drawings... and you even draw little chibis too.

"How cute..." you hear a familiar voice behind you, causing you to jump, immediately holding your sketchbook in your arms and turning to see the person behind you. and of course... It was none other than the person you were just drawing, Azul Ashemgrotto. You enter a state of panic, 'what's he gonna say??? What do I do????'

He laughs lightly, "No need to panic, I don't bite." he says, "I simply came to admire your art, the drawings you do of me are always quite amazing."

And that didn't help calm down your panic, you ushered a small "Y-you saw them?" with a stuttered, quite and soft voice, clearly shaking.

He smiles, "Yes, I did, but I really like your drawings, I'm... actually flattered you think I'm so pretty..." he says, his face turning a bit red from blush, and his voice going softer, as you your eyes, as you stop panicing, you ask him softly "so you... don't find it weird...?"

"Of course not... It... actually makes me quite happy... But please don't tell Floyd and Jade or anyone I said that! They'd tease me mercilessly..." he said as he sighed, you chuckle a bit.

"Hehehe... I won't... And... I'm... glad you like my drawings..." you say quietly with a smile.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech #fish mafia

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witchinatree · 3 months ago

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magnus protocol episode 26 ramble

the academic victim era continues. i like putting my lil personal bits at the beginning of these i think it humanizes me

ok. i have to pause mid intro song. i just hit my bowl of snap pea crisps and spilled them everywhere and i'm going to tweak

3 of them fell on the floor.. but they're kinda expensive so we don't get to have them very often.. is it worth it..

i ate them i don't care

this has become more about me than the episode i'm gonna unpause it now

we're so back

celia at work core!! she dgaf!!!

MEET HELEN. pls don't be a tory in this universe pls pls pls pls. i didn't fw human helen at all i am less excited than i was about basira but also basira was one of my all time favs forever

hiii aliceeee <333

magnusing is so me tbh if you think about it

so does alice's voice have a slight hint of that effect they use for chester and norris to anyone else or.. like she sounds computer-y and i don't know if it's just the microphone or something real

"take protection" "jesus christ!" "LIKE A BIG KNIFE OR SOMETHING" CRYING. see my mind didn't go there sam so what's up with that sam huh sam

the hell does celia have in her workbag wtf. queen what. it's the trauma "are you sure that thing is legal?" LMFAOOOOOO

ok i don't like you saying nauseas because i'm on TWO medications that make me nauseas and i just ate pls don't be gross

DAMN. i was gonna be like JARED? HOPWORTH? but it's jared 'smith.' gerard jared is kind of like michael

P.E. teachers creep me out but probably because the only one my high school has ever officially had got fired my freshman year for spanking girls in the locker room and they never actually replaced him they just had various sports coaches take over

yea this is freaking me out already i don't like it

oh that's so sad the dad fucking died poor kid omg

wtf was he possessed by the soul of cross country. what is the horror here. ohh running for his life ok thanks

oh so the horror isn't mr jared it's what happens to him i guess. sorry man i shouldn't have called you creepy

this is just how my friends describe morning cross country practice

yeah so i was right to quit cross country in 5th grade then!!! running IS the horror!!!!

NOT THE TAPE RECORDER WTFFFFF IS THIS ERROR. ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN ARCHIVIST.............................................................................................................................................................................................

AT A LOSS AT A LOSS AT A LOSS AT AT AT. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

we were right guyss it's an archivist...

IT SAID ARCHIVIST ALICE YES LOCK IN QUEEN LOCK IN SHE'S SOOOOOOOO HEHEHE SHE'S SO SMART I'M IN LOVE WITH U

yes alice connect those dots!!! connect them babe!!!!! i'm scared though to be honest with you

SHE DOESN'T THINK SHE KNOWS DUMBASS. PLEASE LISTEN TO HER OR I'M WRITING ANOTHER HATE POST ABOUT YOU. oh thank you sam i don't hate you

HOW I WOULD'VE EXPECTED HOW I WOULD'VE EXPECTED hey helen

has celia shut down. oh my god she sounds really scared. probably because helen tried to eat her in another universe.

CELIA'S SO SCARED HONEYYYYYYY. wait now she's bringing up the magnus institute LMAOO

bloody big basement lmao it's where they keep the bodies

at least 20 years? it burned down 20 years ago? who's reaching out after it burned what

HELEN'S LAUGH MADE ME JUMP LMFAOOOOO HELP

SAM MEETING JACK???? SAM MEETING JACK??????? THEY'RE SO CUTE WTF OMG ur baby's a tory HAHA

celia you are being watched honeyyy you are you need to connect some dots. alice style. obsessed with her.

calling her baby goblin after that baby episode that celia was mentioned by name in hello. hello.

ok sam let's go no longer being as selfish thanks sam.

awe that's adorable i actually think he's been really nice lately holy shit.

LMAOOO WHY DID WE GET AN AUDIBLE KISS ON EPISODE 26 I THOUGHT THEY DIDN'T LIKE THOSE

#fen blogs tmagp #sam is climbing back up the liked list #i never hated him but i was strongly disliking him for a while #he was cute today though #also alice ilysm #gwen ilysm #i just love women guys #the magnus protocol #tmagp #magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 26

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bunni-v1 · 4 months ago

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(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 2: First Day Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Kenma is a little creepy, but not in a bad way.

Info: Kenma x Reader (for real this time); Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman (maybe?); Your cat is so fucking fat

Word Count: 5k 🍓Hehehe, it's finished! Writing this was a fun challenge, simply because Kenma is so fucking odd and weird and I love him so much please marry me Kenma!!! Anywayyyyyy, please pretend that Animal Crossing New Leaf came out just a little earlier for the sake of this fic. Thankssssssss.

Tag List: @angel-academia

Since you moved to Tokyo, a lot has happened. You finished (by some miracle of the universe) unpacking and decorating the house in about a week, managed to get accepted by the shelter for work over the weekends (which you loved so far), and picked out all of your classes for the spring semester. You even got into the Animal Sciences course you were gunning for by passing the entrance test. Everything was going great, you had just one tiny… eentsy weensy thing you didn’t account for.

Nekoma’s campus was way bigger than you expected. Sure, you figured it would be, it’s a Tokyo High School, but it didn’t seem all that intimidating when you went to pick classes. You turned down a tour, confident in your navigational skills – it’s just a few floors of classrooms, how hard could it be?

Very, as you’ve come to learn.

Clutching the flimsy paper that held your schedule tightly, you looked around woefully at the students who passed you by. Everyone was too busy catching up or chatting, not paying you any mind. You glare at your class schedule again, and “Class 3” glares back at you. That is not helpful. You are lost. Very lost. God, you wanted to beat past you senseless – stupid stupid overconfident past you.

Just as you’re about to scream or bash your head into a wall and ruin your reputation before classes begin, your savior appears. He’s incredibly tall, his uniform jacket unbuttoned and his clothes wrinkled. His messy black bedhead stands straight up in the air, bangs shrouding half of his face. He looks like the crafty type like he might take advantage of the situation and make you buy him lunch as thanks. However, when he speaks, you realize you might be overreacting just a tad.

“You alright? I couldn’t help but see you floundering over here,” He laughs.

You flush, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder awkwardly, “I’m a little lost…”

“You’re a first-year?” He asks.

You frown, shaking your head, “Second-year. I transferred from Karasuno High School, uhm, in Miyagi,” you quickly clarify. You hope you didn’t look like a first-year.

He hums, nodding, “That makes sense, looking for your homeroom then?”

“Yeah, I just… can’t make sense of the schedule they gave me,” you admit, lifting the paper for him to see.

He looks over it, and then smirks to himself, “Ooh, Kenma, she’s in your class.” He says to someone, and hot shame washes over you as you realize there was another person here the whole time.

He’s a shorter guy with a pretty shitty dye job that reminds you of a lot of pudding. You try not to snicker at the mental image of actual pudding on the poor guy's head. He eyes you like he’s considering you. It’s clear he’s taking in everything about your appearance, and it makes you flush a little. You didn’t take well to being scrutinized – especially not by cute strangers. (Cute? Did you find this guy cute?) Something about the way he looks at you is… familiar… but you’ve never met this guy, so you brush it off and smile apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were there or else I would’ve greeted you too,” you apologize.

He shrugs, eyes catching on something in your bag, then he goes back to staring at the PSP in his hands, “It’s fine.”

You frown, but the beadhead guy sighs loud enough to interrupt any self-depreciation you might’ve started on.

“Don’t pay him any mind, he’s always like this,” he tells you, then shoves his hand your way, “I’m Kuroo Tetsrou, Third-year!”

You take the hand, shake it firmly, and introduce yourself with a smile. Kuroo turns to Kenma, pulling his game out of his hands and confiscating it in his pocket, grumbling lowly to him about being polite. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you at their antics.

With a grumble, Kenma turns to you and nods reluctantly, “Kozume Kenma.”

Kuroo lets out a satisfied huff, visibly pleased with the interaction, then gestures for both of you to follow him. You take off first, trying your best to keep pace with his incredibly long legs, Kenma follows just behind you, dragging his feet enough that he wouldn’t match your pace.

“So,” Kuroo starts again, “What made you transfer here – Tokyo’s a big change from Miyagi.”

You sigh, “I’ll say. My dad moved us here 'cause he got some big promotion,” you grumble, then realize you might be too grumbly and add, “but… Tokyo is nice. There’s a lot more to do here, and the people are nice.”

“Thank you, I do try,” He laughs, “there is a lot to do here, though. Too much, sometimes. What kinda things do you like to do?”

You hum, folding the paper in your hands as you think, “Well, I like helping out at animal shelters – oh and I like video games. I know there are arcades around here, and I wanna check some out.”

Kenma perks up a bit at the mention of video games, but he doesn’t say anything about it. As if he were a mind reader – or maybe he just knew Kenma well – Kuroo beams back at you.

“Thank god, I thought I’d never find someone who likes games like Kenma does,” he laughs, “I was gonna ask about that charm on your bag, it looked like one of the characters from his games.”

You frown, looking at your bag, and realizing the Tom Nook charm you got in middle school was still on it. It wasn’t in very good shape, but you could still discern that it was Tom Nook.

“It’s Tom Nook, from Animal Crossing,” Kenma corrects, “You should know that.”

“You play,” you ask suddenly, and a bit too excited, seeing how Kenma shrinks back a bit.

He nods, slowly, afraid of setting you off, “Yeah, not so much anymore, but I still like the game.”

“Sorry,” you laugh, “None of my friends from home liked it all that much, so I’m excited to meet someone who does.”

He hesitates, and your smile falters a bit. For a second you can see him panic, though you aren’t sure why. Then, he digs into his bag and pulls out a notebook and a pen, scribbling something down sloppily as he walks. When he finishes, he tears the page out and hands it to you. It takes you a second to realize what the numbers mean, but when you do, you grin.

“You have your friend code memorized?” You ask lightly.

Again, you see him panic a little, but he plays it off well enough, “I… handed it out a lot when the game first came out.”

You hum, folding the paper up and putting it in your bag, “I’ll write mine down and get it to you tomorrow.”

“Woaaaahhhhh,” Kuroo butts in loudly, “Sharing Animal Crossing friend codes already? That’s pretty big for first-time meetings.”

Kenma groans, “I could’ve shown her the classroom myself.”

“You would’ve just made her uncomfortable with all your moping,” Kuroo shoots back.

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue any further. Kuroo grows a smug, satisfied smirk, and practically struts the rest of the way to your new classroom. He reminds you a lot of a proud cat, and you fight off the mental image of him with ears and a tail.

Getting to the classroom was surprisingly easy, and you mentally scolded yourself for making two strangers have to guide you on such a stupid side quest like you were some kind of NPC. Two flights of stairs and three right turns took you right where you needed to be. The schedule with directions from earlier made a lot more sense now that you’ve walked it once.

“This is it!” Kuroo announces, “Not so bad, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry for making you walk me here. It’s pretty embarrassing I couldn’t figure it out myself.” You admit, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s fine,” Kenma says, shocking both you and Kuroo, “I had a hard time getting around when I was a freshman. The schedule isn’t very helpful for navigation.”

“We were both on the way anyway,” Kuroo adds, “so meeting you was just a bonus!”

As he says that, the ten-minute bell rings above the three of you. Kuroo bids both of you farewell, making sure to give Kenma a hard time about taking care of you. It’s embarrassing to be treated like a helpless kid by a total stranger. You feel a bit guilty, so you try to apologize, but Kenma seemingly beats you to the punch.

“Sorry about him, he’s always like that,” he says, echoing Kuroo’s earlier sentiment about him.

“Oh! It’s fine, I kinda deserve it.” You dismiss with a laugh.

Kenma slides the door open, and you are both hit with a barrage of voices. Students giggle and catch up, excitedly sharing what their break was like, and what they expect the school year to be like. Kenma trudges through them with a glower, eyes glued to a desk in the corner of the room. A few people give him greetings, but he ignores them outright, which they seem to expect. You awkwardly follow behind him, trying to ignore the curious eyes of your new classmates trying to figure out who you are and why you’re in their classroom.

Kenma settles himself in his desk, and you stand by him, nervously playing with your fingers. He gives you a weird look – not quite judging you but staring curiously. Normally you would be hurt by the look, but something about it is so familiar that you feel comfortable enough to explain yourself.

“I don’t wanna take someone's desk and tear up a friend group and be known as the stupid new girl who took someone's seat on the first day like an idiot.” You say quickly.

He stares at you, head tilting, blinking like you were stupid, “Just… sit next to me.”

You blink dumbly, taking in what he said as slowly as possible, and then you plop yourself down in the desk next to him. Well, you were still embarrassed, but at least it wasn’t because you’d accidentally made yourself enemies. Avoiding Kenma’s very intense stare locked onto the side of your head, you pull out your notebook and pencil case, getting ready for the school day. You glance over your schedule one more time, humming as you take it in. Most of them were general classes like Math and English, but you also had Animal Science in the afternoon – which you had to switch classrooms for, but it would be fine you were sure.

“What’s your schedule look like?” Kenma asks suddenly close, making you jump out of your skin. You’d forgotten he was there for a second.

It takes you a moment to recover, but when you do you lean over and show him the paper, “Pretty normal stuff, but I have Animal Science fifth period in Class 1’s room.”

He hums, “We have most of our classes together except that one,” you silently praise the universe for that, “but someone I know from volleyball is in your Animal Science class.”

You’re a little disappointed that you won’t be taking it with Kenma, despite having only known him for a few minutes. But five out of six courses together wasn’t too bad. You process shortly after your disappointment that he mentioned a friend from volleyball, which strikes you as odd because he doesn’t look all that… sporty. Or social.

“Volleyball? Do you play?” you ask, trying hard not to give away your thoughts.

“Yeah. I’m not athletic at all, but Kuroo got me into it when we were in middle school and I’ve stuck with it.” He explains simply, and you feel bad for assuming things about him in the first place, “Do you like it?”

“I don’t play, but my best friends from home love it,” you reply, smiling fondly, “so I guess you could say I do.”

A little smile grows on his face, mirroring yours, and you think that he looks cuter when he's smiling, “You should come by and watch one of our practices then. If you have the free time after school.”

You nod excitedly, then remember what he said earlier about his teammate being in your class, “Your friend is in my Animal Science class?”

His face sours, and you bite back the laugh that bubbles up your throat, “I wouldn’t call him my friend – his name is Yamamoto. He’s loud and intense, and he’s probably only taking the class cause he thinks it’ll be easy fun.”

You frown a little, “It’s definitely not easy fun.”

“I know, I tried to tell him that, but he doesn’t listen to me,” he grumbles, “he’s got a stupid haircut, you’ll know him when you see him. Avoid him if you can help it.”

You laugh a little, “Thanks for the warning, Kozume.”

He blinks, and then frowns a bit, “You can just call me Kenma.”

“Wouldn’t that be rude? We just met,” you ask.

“I don’t care that much about formalities, so just call me Kenma.” He says simply.

There’s not much room for argument with him, so you nod conceding, “Okay, but you have to do the same for me.”

He also nods, a little smile lighting up his face again. He goes to say something else, but the door slides open, and your new homeroom teacher steps in and commands silence from everyone. You give him an apologetic smile, shrugging a little, before giving her your full attention.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

Classes go by smoothly, thanks in part to Kenma catching you up on anything your old curriculum might’ve missed. Introducing yourself was as awful as it always is, but your classmates were very welcoming, so it wasn’t so bad. You eat lunch with Kenma, further discussing the many different games that you both like. You learn he and Kuroo really like Metal Gear, and when you say you’ve never played it he offers to lend you his copy (though, he seems reluctant to do so, despite him offering it in the first place). He even shows you to Class 1’s room, though he doesn’t stick around very long. “I don’t want to deal with him,” was his excuse.

You do immediately recognize this ‘Yamamoto’ person, as he’s the only person in the room with a fuzzy yellow mohawk. Like Kenma said, he was loud and intense, but you didn’t mind it too much. He reminded you a lot of Tanaka and Noya, and even though you were too shy to approach him, you were pretty confident you could handle him if he ever bothered you.

Kenma also picked you up from class, which you weren’t expecting at all. Again, he managed to come up with an excuse. “Kuroo wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I let you wander alone.” You don’t mention how you could find your way back to the classroom two doors down, because the sentiment of him waiting on you is sweet, and you don’t want him to be annoyed with you. Your classmates stare at the two of you like you’re insane when you walk back in together, but you try your best to pay them no mind like Kenma does so easily.

When your last class is over, the two of you head down to the front gates to meet up with Kuroo. You hold a light conversation with him, talking about whatever topic seems to interest him. Mostly video games, which makes you feel incredibly behind with all the titles he throws at you, but he assures you he’s just more into them than most people are. Shortly after you arrive, Kuroo jogs over with a smirk on his face. You feel Kenma’s dread roll off him in waves at the sight, and you give him a reassuring smile.

“Kenma took good care of you?” he asks playfully.

“She’s not a child, Kuroo,” Kenma sighs.

“You’re right,” he nods, turning his smirk to you “Did you take good care of Kenma?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “He was very helpful,” you turn to said Kenma, “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to do all that.”

He shrugs, “It wasn’t a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

Kuroo seems to consider something for a moment before he shrugs and any comments he might’ve said are lost to time. “Which way do you live shorty?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you with the nickname, despite no one else being around, “Oh! Uh, that way.” you point in the direction you remember your house being, giving them the street name.

“Hey, that's where we live,” he exclaims, “aren’t you lucky, bumping into your neighbors this morning.”

You are lucky, you think, but you don’t want to feed into any more of his teasing, so you just shrug. You take the lead this time, much more confident on the route home than you were on the route to class. Kuroo and Kenma quickly fall back into place beside you.

“I’ve been wondering who moved into the Shirashi’s old place,” Kuroo comments absently.

“Were you close with them?” you ask.

“Nah, they were an old couple with no kids,” he sighs, “they used to make all the neighborhood kids cookies and stuff, so I’m gonna miss that.”

“They smelled weird,” Kenma adds.

“Don’t be rude!” Kuroo scolds.

You laugh, “The house does have a weird smell. Dad and I had to buy a bunch of those plug-in air fresheners when we moved in, and it’s still kinda smelly.”

“See,” Kenma says smugly.

Kuroo rolls his eyes, “I don’t like this tag-teaming that's going on right now.”

“You just don’t like being wrong,” Kenma comments flatly.

“That’s it, I’m not giving you your game back!” Kuroo declares, and Kenma prickles at the words. They bicker back and forth again for a little while, you watch with amusement. They remind you of a mother cat and her kit. You snicker at the thought of Kuroo grooming Kenma like a kitten, catching their attention long enough that they stop arguing.

You walk in a nice quiet for a few blocks, Kuroo occasionally pointing out some places he thinks you might like – Kenma adding in his two cents when he felt like it. Kenma points out a specific arcade as you walk, and Kuroo highly suggests going there sometime. As you walk you get to thinking, and you recall your conversation with Kenma during classes. Kuroo was the one who got him into volleyball, and you were a bit curious about the volleyball club yourself. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), Tanaka and Noya were very successful in their pro-volleyball brainwashing.

“Are both of you on the Volleyball team?” you ask.

Kuroo nods, puffing his chest out and jutting his thumb at it proudly, “I’m the captain! Why, are you interested in getting involved with the girls?”

You shake your head, “Nah. Kenma mentioned it, and my friends at home are interested in it, so I was curious.”

“Well, we haven’t been very successful tournament-wise in a while,” Kenma comments.

“This year is gonna be different though, I can feel it!” Kuroo jumps in, determination shining in his eyes.

“You’ve said that every year,” Kenma sighs.

“Well, I mean it this time! Our team is shaping up to be amazing, I think we could even win nationals.” He says confidently.

Kenma rolls his eyes, but you smile, “Passion like that is a good thing.”

“See? Thank you shorty, this guy doesn’t get it like us.” Kuroo teases, pointing at Kenma accusingly.

There’s a pause, then he asks, “What about you, have you thought about clubs yet?”

You shake your head, “I wanted to do something with animals, but all the ones that are there seem kinda lame.”

Kuroo nods, “Yeah, that’s typical. Nekoma doesn’t have much variety, unfortunately.”

You hum, adjusting the strap of your bag as it moves with your shoulders. Then, suddenly, it hits you.

“Wait, why aren’t you at practice? I saw somewhere that all the teams had mandatory practice today.” You ask.

“Oh, coach let us have the first day of classes off,” Kuroo explains, “We did a training camp with the new first years over break, so he’s being generous today.”

“He’s only doing it so he can work us harder later,” Kenma grumbles.

Kuroo ignores him, thinking something over, then smiles at you, “Hey, we have practice tomorrow. Since it’s the first official one of the season, it shouldn’t be too bad. Why don’t you come to check us out.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a second head. You are a total stranger, and he’s… inviting you to watch his team practice? Sure, Kenma might’ve done the same thing earlier, but you think he was just being nice. Kuroo seems… sincere. It’s a bit odd, you wonder what his motive is.

“What’s your motive,” you say flatly.

“Motive? I don’t have a motive!” He defends, hands flying up into the air.

Kenma returns your flat look, probing for answers himself, “You absolutely have a motive.”

Kuroo glares at the two of you, hoping one of you will break. Unfortunately for him, you were raised stubborn, and Kenma had the best poker face in all of Japan. So, with a groan, he gives up.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he admits, “We don’t have a manager, and despite all I’ve tried I can’t get anyone to say yes.”

“So you try and harass the new girl?” You tease, earning another groan.

“Don’t make me sound like some villain. I figured it was worth a try, but I won’t force you.”

You smile at him, shaking your head, “No, no. It’s fine. I kinda miss watching my friend's team play, and I almost managed their team too, so it wouldn’t be a big deal for me.”

Both Kenma and Kuroo perk up at that.

“So you’ll do it?” Kuroo asks excitedly.

You hum, thoughtfully, “I’ll think about it. I want to see the whole team first and meet the coach, then I’ll make my decision.”

Kuroo practically leaps in the air, pumping his fist energetically in celebration. His excitement is infectious, and you feel your stomach bubble with delight at his outburst. Kenma also looks pleased, less outwardly than Kurro, however. Something about this feels… natural like you were meant to be friends with these two your whole life. Neither of them had left any room for you to feel awkward or left out, despite having only met you today. It was… nice. Comforting.

Kenma taps you on your shoulder, pulling you from Kuroo’s display, “The team can be a handful, but… I think you’ll fit in great.”

A curious part of your brain wonders how he could be so sure of that, but you shove it back in favor of smiling warmly at him. “I hope so, I could use some more friends – and a hobby.”

Kenma laughs, a real laugh, and you realize you like the sound a lot more than you probably should. Before you can dwell on it too much longer, Kuroo interrupts the thoughts with some declaration of being left out. You think you could get used to this routine.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

The walk back to your neighborhood is about fifteen minutes, and the two boys you’re walking with make it much more interesting than your walk to school this morning. Most of it is Kuroo talking about whatever he feels like, you and Kenma nodding along with whatever he says. Kenma does talk, though. Mostly to you, mostly teasing Kuroo. It’s nice, you think. You’re still talking as you approach your gate, and you’re a bit disappointed that you have to cut your time short.

As you go to close your gate behind you, Kuroo shouts at you to wait, so you do.

“Hey, since we all live on the same street, why don’t we walk together tomorrow.” He offers.

You give Kenma a little side eye, and he shrugs, so you copy the motion, “Why not? Better than walking alone.”

He smiles, then seemingly remembers something, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. You think for a moment that his parents might’ve been scolding him for something, but then he shoves it over your gate and into your hands. You stare at it stupidly for a second, then look back at him.

“Your number, so we can keep in contact.” He explains.

You nod with a little ‘ooohhhh’, and quickly punch your number in. When you hand his phone back, he holds his hand out. Brain connecting the dots faster this time, you pull your phone out and pull up your contact list before giving it to him. Kenma peers over his shoulder as he punches in his number, then glares up at him for a long second before he hands the phone back to you.

You scroll down the contact list, seeing both Kuroo and Kenma’s numbers on your phone. You smile a little, what an odd guy.

“Thanks, I’ll send you a message so you have my number too, Kenma.” You assure.

He nods, and then he and Kuroo are bidding you farewell. You watch them for another long moment, laughing to yourself as they bicker – no doubt about Kuroo putting Kenma’s number in your phone. You can’t help but feel a little grateful, though. You never would’ve had the confidence to ask yourself.

You sigh, turning around to enter your new house. As you open the door, Maki practically attacks you, pressing her fat little body against your legs with happy little chirps. You wonder how she’s able to move so agilely with so much extra weight on her little bones. You keep trying to put her on a diet, but when you try your dad would undo all your progress cause he feels bad for ‘starving the poor thing’. You bend down and scoop her up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I missed you too fat girl,” you coo, closing the door behind you.

As you do that, your phone buzzes. Right on time as always, you think. You set Maki down, pull out your phone, and smile at the messages. Three from your dad, who was still at work – his new schedule had him working late almost every night, but he sent you messages at 3 o’clock on the dot without fail since you were little. It was sweet that he kept it up.

Dad: Hey sweetpea, I hope your first day was good!

Knowing you, it was. I’m sure you have a lot to tell me.

Dad: I’ll be home late like usual, but I’ll pick us up

something to eat before I get back. Maybe that

one sushi place we saw the other day?

Dad: You should pick a movie for us to watch

while we eat! Love you!

You smile. Your dad was the most amazing person in the world, and you’d bet on it too. Despite your differences, namely your disagreement with soulmates, he never let it affect your relationship. He treated you so well, and you couldn’t ask for a better father in a million lifetimes. You bet he was the best one you’ve ever had.

You: Thanks, Dad!

You: I was thinking about that new horror movie

that came out.

You: Seems really scary

Dad: Yes! I’ve been wanting to watch it! Is it on that one

streaming place?

You: Netflix? I think so.

You: If not, I’ll figure something out.

You: Good luck at work! Love you!

Dad: Love you too pumpkin!

You click off your phone, looks like you had a little side quest tonight. Shouldn’t be hard, so long as it’s actually on Netflix. You make your way to the living room, nearly tripping over Maki four times as she glues herself to your feet. When you manage to make it without killing yourself or your cat, you pull up Netflix on the nice new TV your old man bought you. Lucky you, the movie is on there, which saves you the trip to a video store.

As you set the remote down, your hand bumps into your DS, and you suddenly remember promising to get Kenma your friend code. Nerves light as you pull up your account, and you can’t place why. Kenma made you the opposite of nervous so far, but sharing your friend code felt too important. Probably because of Kuroo’s teasing earlier in the day. Something about Kenma just felt… familiar. Right. Like you’ve known him for a long time – or like you should’ve known him for a long time.

You have his number pulled up and a message typed out before you know it, but you can’t get yourself to send it. It’s just one text, you scold mentally, but your thumb doesn’t move to press send. This was so unlike you, to be so flustered over someone you hardly even knew. With one last demolishing comment toward yourself in your head, you manage to press send.

You: Hi Kenma! I told you I’d send you a text, so here it is!

You: I also wanted to give you my friend code now!

You: 2946-6782-9856

Kenma: Cool, I’ll check your village out later.

You stare at the message for way too long. If he were here in person, he would stare at you with those freakishly big eyes. Chills run up your spine at the thought.

You: Yay!

You: You can tell me what you think tomorrow.

His response doesn’t come through for a little while, and you worry you might’ve been too forward. (How in the world were you too forward? The logical side of your mind insists you’re being dramatic. The teenage girl part of you is about to beat your ass.) Then, your phone buzzes again, and you dive for it embarrassingly fast.

Kenma: Looking forward to it.

Your heart practically flips in your chest, and you re-read the text an embarrassing amount of times. In an attempt to remain semi-sane-looking, you wait a little longer to send your response. You don’t want to scare him off after the first day of knowing each other. Still, you respond a little too fast for your liking.

You: Me too! See you then!

After sending the message, you pretty much throw your phone across the room. You can’t send any more awkward messages if you don’t have your phone. A little rude? Yeah, but it’s for the best, you reason. You were not acting like yourself, therefore you had to ‘normal’ yourself before you could continue a conversation with him. Nothing about what just happened felt normal. Are you crushing on a guy you just met? ‘That's so unlike you.’ You could hear Noya say. You sounded like Takana! Oh God, you hoped he didn’t feel like Kiyoko. You didn’t think he was your soulmate, at the very least. You weren’t that crazy… yet. God, you were screwed, weren’t you?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #x reader #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #bunni's treats 🧁

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