#second time was just then cause for the longest time i always see their bread pcs and i was like nope i dont need it and now im like wait
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librarisxng · 6 months ago
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the way i purchase ateez albums because of fomo.
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littlemissmentallyunstable · 4 months ago
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title: the mysterious blonde (PART 1)
pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader
synopsis: you are gigi’s best friend and you go over to her house to work on a school project, only to meet her mysterious brother who popped up a couple of months ago and turns out he’s just your type
parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
warnings: it’s long
a/n: actually forgive me because this story is so long, don’t ask me why I got too carried away. there are two more parts as well if you make it through this and actually end up enjoying it. thank you for reading, requests are always open xx
tag list: there is no tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)
Gigi and I trudge out of double history, so exhausted we look like we’re about to flop onto the floor. I actually think we might.
“That was the longest few hours of my life,” she says to me, her wide eyes almost look sad.
“Literally,” I groan, “why didn’t time seem to move?”
“I don’t know but my brain feels like mush,” she replied, rubbing her temples.
“I can second that,” I sigh.
“And all that homework she gave us! What was all that about?” my best friend exclaims, probably the closest to anger I’ll ever see her.
“I don’t even want to know,” I roll my eyes, “this subject is killing me, why did we even take history?”
“Because we have to,” she deadpans.
I groan aloud again, “this is so stupid.”
“You know saying it’s stupid is not going to change our position,” she tells me, putting an arm around my shoulder.
“I know, I know, but it feels good,” I explain.
“Yeah it does,” Gigi agrees, coming to a sudden halt before yelling , “this is stupid!”
The sound of her voice bounced off of the walls of the now lonely corridor that had been deserted at lunch hour. We continue walking.
“See?” I say, folding my arms across my chest, “feels good does it?”
“Better than peanut butter and jelly cookies,” she says, then pauses, “wait maybe not…”
I wrinkled my nose, “peanut butter and jelly cookies? That’s a low standard, literally anything is better.”
Gigi stops in her tracks, causing me to almost fall over. She stares at me, her face a mix of shock, horror and disbelief as she says, “You’re kidding me, right?”
I stare at her and cautiously answer, “…no?”
“Why are we even friends?” she asks.
The question takes me so off guard that I don’t get time to process it properly before I answer, “What?”
“You don’t like peanut butter and jelly cookies,” she states, “so why are we even friends?”
“Oh my gosh you’re going to disown me as a friend because I don’t like a cookie,” I ask flatly.
“It’s not just a cookie,” she says, a dangerously threatening glint in her eyes that I wasn’t familiar, “take that back. Right now.”
I hold my hands up in mock surrender, “I apologise to you and your love for peanut butter and jelly cookies.”
“Okay,” she smiles as we begin to walk again, “friendship sorted.”
I scoff and shake my head, not helping the smile on my face. We walk to the canteen together and grab our food. We don’t have the energy or effort to carry on conversation seen a history had sucked us dry of any joy or potential excitement to talk. We grab our food and sit where we always do in the summertime. Outside there’s a small wall tucked away. We climb up it as usual and each our lunch there, it’s much more peaceful than dealing with everyone else. Gigi looks as if she’s very fixated on the football game occurring on the field so I let my mind wander. I chew thoughtfully on some dry school bread, brainstorming ideas for the history project we’d just been set. It was only then I notice the absence Gigi’s sister.
“Where’s Savannah?” I suddenly ask.
“Oh I forgot, she’s playing at basketball tournament today,” Gigi replies, a cheerful undertone in her voice.
“That’s amazing,” I say, my eyes wide, “I hope she does well.”
“She will,” Gigi shrugs, “she always does.”
I smile, admiring Gigi’s purest and truest of faith for her sister. Savannah had always been super talented at basketball, on every team and the best one there. Me and Gigi would often go and watch her games, cheering annoyingly loudly from the side lines earning us both dirty looks from the pair of piercing grey eyes that belonged to Savannah. Though we all knew deep down she secretly loved the crazy support even if it did drive her up the wall.
“Hey wanna work on the project at mine later,” Gigi asks suddenly.
“Yeah sure,” I shrug, “I’ve got some of the stuff at my house, I’ll dash home get ready and bring them after school.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she nods, smiling from ear to ear.
“Great,” I smile back.
“Oh by the way, my brother will be there,” she adds quickly, testing the water to see if it might alter my decision.
“What the mystery one that popped out of nowhere that everyone calls the male version of Savannah?” I ask.
Gigi had told me about her mystery brother. When she went M.I.A for a whole week I had panicked like crazy. And that girl cannot lie to save her life. She explained all the happenings to me and I didn’t say a word to anyone. Though I’d never met the infamous Grayson Hawthorne. I didn’t even know he really existed before Gigi told me about him. Of course, I’d hear the name in passing due to the inheritance of a certain seventeen year old girl but other than that I never really knew who he was before Gigi.
“That would be the one,” she grins, swinging her legs up and down, “he always comes for dinner on Wednesdays.”
“Oh,” I say quickly, “don’t want to intrude on family stuff.”
Gigi and Savannah were close and they were close with their mother as well. I didn’t want to get in the way of spending time with their new found brother. Gigi had only ever told me good things about him but Savannah never talked of it much. She avoids the topic like the plague so I never asked. Secretly I think she really loves him.
“Oh no he won’t mind,” Gigi shrugs.
“Are you sure Gigi because-“
“Y/N I’m sure,” she says seriously putting her hands on my shoulders.
I nod and the bell goes off. I sigh, just have to get through the afternoon now.
***
As soon as school is over, I rush home and jump in the shower, flinging on the first clothes I find in my drawer. I fill a tote bag with bits and bobs we might need as well as some chocolate covered pretzels because Gigi goes feral for them. I leave my house, and just as I’m locking the door I get a text. My eyes flick to my phone, Gigi has sent a cat meme, of course. I open it to find a little tabby cat staring at me with its tongue stuck out with the text attached reading ‘where are you??’. I giggle and shake my head and drop a quick text back to tell her I’m on the way.
***
After a few buses and too much power walking for one girl, I arrive at the door breathless. I make a mental note that I need to workout more. I give the door a quick knock and wait awkwardly outside.
It swings open within a few minutes revealing a grinning Gigi, “Y/N!”
“Hey Gigi,” I say, giving her a quick hug as we step in.
“It’s like you guys haven’t been together all day,” comes another voice.
My head whips around to see familiar grey eyes and two blonde braids.
“Savannah!” I exclaim, rushing towards her and pulling her into an embrace
“Hey,” she laughs, hugging me back.
“How was your tournament?” I ask her.
“We won,” she shrugs as if it’s nothing, though it probably was to her.
“Of course,” I say, tilting my head, “sorry we couldn’t be there.”
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” she replies, “besides it was nice not having two maniacs howling your name.”
I turn to Gigi, “I think she just admitted she missed us.”
“She did, didn’t she?”
“Whatever helps you guys sleep at night,” Savannah says coolly, “heard about your history project, good luck, I’m glad it’s you and not me,”
“Thanks Sav,” I say sarcastically.
“You are so welcome Y/N,” she grins, ruffling my hair.
“And this is Grayson, my mysterious brother who pretends to be moody all of the time,” Gigi explains, gesturing to a boy.
Well I should say a man because holy mother of all saints and lords… he had the most gorgeous face I’ve ever laid eyes on. He was the pinnacle of perfection and so radiantly beautiful. He practically glowed. His hair was golden like some sort of buried treasure that glistened in the right lighting. He was tall and muscular, that was obvious even through his suit. A pretty face and a fit physique, it was a win win. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing there cautiously watching my interactions with his sisters. When our eyes met my legs almost buckled. They were a stormy grey that left me senseless. My heart thumped in my chest and butterflies flew up my stomach every which way. I could see his resemblance with Savannah but there were so many differences that made him… him.
“Hi,” I smile, trying not to blush or sound stupid, dismally failing at both and mentally ticking this off as one of my top ten most embarrassing moments of my whole life entire life.
“Hello Y/N,” he replies, not exactly smiling but not straight faced, somewhere in between, “I can assure you I do not pretend to be moody all of the time no matter what my sister has told you.”
His voice is so mellow it could melt butter with one sound.
“He does,” Gigi whispers loudly enough for him to hear
“It’s okay,” I say to Grayson, “I’m sure you don’t.”
“Gigi’s told me so much about you, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” he says
I try to not act too surprised at the thought of Gigi telling her brother all about me. I make a mental note to talk to her about it later.
“You too,” I nod with another sweet smile
I was smiling so much my jaw started to ache. I notice Savannah slip away, most likely to go and relax her muscles after the tournament today. I look back to Grayson.
“Well I’ll let you guys get on,” he nods, like a man of business.
I nod and smile shyly. He returns the smile and Gigi takes my hand and pulls we towards the staircase. I get one last glimpse of him and then we’re gone. As we walk up the stairs I struggle to get Grayson out of my head, he’s like an annoying catchy song or advert repeating in a vicious circle… except it’s not annoying when I get to envisage his face. I shake my head and push him out of my mind, I cannot find him attractive, he’s Gigi’s brother for goodness’s sake.
“So now you’ve met my infamous secret brother,” Gigi smirks, nudging me.
“Now I have,” I nod, smiling.
“So now you officially know every inch of my life,” she tells me as we reach her bedroom door, “it’s kind of creepy when you think of it.”
“Then let’s not,” I shrug as we walk in.
We set up together on the floor and that’s when I pull out the bag of treats I’d bought for my addict of a friends. As soon as her eyes connect with the packaging they almost bulge out of her skull.
“You bought chocolate covered pretzels!” she screams, joy and awe written all over her face.
“Obviously,” I roll my eyes, handing her the bag.
“You are officially my favourite best friend ever,” she squeals, hugging them to her chest, like a mother would her child.
“Aren’t I your only best friend?” I say.
“Well yeah, but still…” Gigi trails off, as she opens the bag, “want one?”
“They’re all yours Gigi,” I tell her.
She hesitates for a moment, “Are you sure?”
“Very,” I reassure her, attempting to organise some of notes into piles.
“I’m paying you back,” she says confidently.
“Have fun trying,” I tease her, poking my tongue out,
“I will find a way,” she replied, determination thick in her voice.
Gigi and I only ever argued when it came to paying for things. We both were constantly trying to pay the other back for the 2 dollars they needed for a coffee or the movie tickets from the week before. But I’d gotten very inventive in preventing Gigi from paying me back.
“Sure you will sweetie,” I patronise her.
She ignores me, popping one of her chocolate covered pretzels into her mouth. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back and savours the taste.
“That is so amazingly yum,” she whispers.
“I’m glad,” I grin, “now come on. We have work to do.”
We work on the project for so long we lose track of time. Through giggles and shouts and possibly a few tears that neither of us will admit tomorrow, we’d gotten just short of halfway done. That is when Savannah calls us for dinner. Both in shock that we’d actually worked, made progress and managed to forget the time we go downstairs.
“You do realise that you both never shut up right?” Savannah says as we enter the room.
“Sorry,” I grin sheepishly, tucking the loose stands of hair behind my ears.
“I think it’s a good thing,” Gigi counters, “I like to talk.”
“Don’t we know it,” her sister rolls her eyes, sitting down at the table.
Four plates of streaming food sit on the table and we all take our places. Grayson joins us and sits down beside Savannah opposite me. I try not to hold my eyes on him for too long so it didn’t seem like I was staring but I couldn’t help but steal myself one glance. I’m driving myself crazy thinking about how my hand might fit perfectly into his and his pretty pretty mouth or that one tiny freckle just below his eyebrow, that I’d convinced myself I was the first to notice. I also really wanted this guys hair routine because his hair looked so silky and soft.
“How’s the project going?” Savannah asks over the clanging of silverware on plates.
“Good,” Gigi replies and then rethinks the decision, “I think.”
“We’re nearly halfway finished,” I explain, “but there’s a lot to do.”
“So much!” she groans, tipping her head back.
“What teacher do you have again?” Savannah asks us.
“Ms Harrison,” Gigi replies.
Savannah often wasn’t in our classes due to her extended sports timetable, so we didn’t have a lot of the same teachers. It was always kind of lonely without her.
She screws her face up, “I hate that woman.”
“She treats her subject like her child,” I roll my eyes, laughing.
“I mean when am I ever going to use history in my real life?” Gigi asks.
“You might need it in your job?” I shrug, taking a sip of water.
“As if,” she replies, giving me the look.
“What do you want to do Y/N?”
My head whips up and I stare directly at Grayson. His voice startles me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. It takes me far too long to process the question before I make some sort of awkward blubbering sound as I try and work out what to say.
“With what?” I blurt out, sounding really unsophisticated.
“Your life,” he clarifies.
My mind races at one hundred miles an hour, “big question…” I nervously giggle, “…erm I don’t really know,”
“Oh?” he replied, eyebrows slightly raised in… surprise, disapproval, shock?? I couldn’t tell he was almost impossible to read. I just wanted the ground to swallow me up from this embarrassment.
“I mean I don’t have a set plan,” I say quickly trying to patch things up, “I want to do something that makes me happy.”
“What makes you happy?”
“Stop questioning her Gray,” Gigi interrupts, “you’re creeping her out.”
I feel my cheeks heat up and I look down, suddenly taking an interest in the intricacy of the tablecloth.
“Sorry,” Grayson says. I couldn’t see his face but I would assume from his tone that he was also finding the tablecloth interesting right about now.
“No it’s fine,” I say, my eyes darting up for a millisecond and then straight back down.
There’s an uncomfortable silence and nothing can be heard. Not even breathing.
“Have you seen the new frappuccino on the menu at the coffee shop around the corner?” Gigi asks, breaking the deadly silence, “I think it’s honey and gingerbread.”
The conversation picks back up from there but Grayson doesn’t really make conversation after that. When dinner is over, we all clean up, mostly in silence. There were pockets of small talk here and there but not much. When we’re almost done, I make eye contact with Savannah and she gives me a look. A furrow my brows confused and tilt my head. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes slightly. She takes me by the arm and leads me into the bathroom.
“Savannah? What is this?” I ask her, absolutely baffled, “because it’s starting to feel like one of those murder mysteries except it’s not a mystery to me if I’m the one being murdered.”
“I’m not going to murder you,” she scoffs, “and if I was I would do it in a much classier way.”
“Oh thanks,” I say, sarcastically, “so why have you dragged me in here, please.”
“We need to talk,” she says, a serious look in her eyes.
I suddenly feel an odd sense of dread building up inside but laugh it off and attempt to make a joke, “look if you want to break up-“
She flashes a grin and then her face goes serious again. I suddenly get a wave of nervousness come over me and my brain flicks through every possible thing I could’ve messed up in the past few weeks.
“Why is it Sav? Did I do something?” I ask, concerned and scared.
“Can you stop eyeball flirting with my brother,” Savannah deadpans, “it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“What!?” I yell without thinking, before my hands fly to my mouth when I realise how loud I’ve been.
She sighs and starts to repeat her sentence, “can you stop eyeball-“
“I heard you the first time,” I tell her.
“Good, now can you?” Savannah asks, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the wall.
“I’m not eyeball flirting with anyone?” I hiss at her, maybe a bit too defensively.
“Okay, if you say so,” she says, “so can you stop ‘not eyeball flirting’ with my brother.”
��I can’t stop something I’m not doing,” I argue.
She stares at me, “you don’t want to fall for him.”
Her face doesn’t match her tone, it isn’t angry or aggressive, it’s concerned and worried.
“I’m not falling for him,” I reply softly, putting my hand on her arm, “I’ve barely met the poor guy.”
“He’s not a ‘poor guy’ by any long shot,” she laughs bitterly, “and if you think you like him, don’t. It’s a horrible road to go down.”
“Savannah I don’t like-“
“I know you,” she says sharply, stopping me mid sentence.
She’s right. She did know me. And I did like her brother… but she didn’t have to know just yet.
“He’s attractive, sure,” I shrug, trying to act cool and collected about the whole affair, “but it’s not like that.”
“Good,” Savannah says.
“Can we leave the almost murder scene now?” I joke, a smirk playing on my lips.
She rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder playfully, “oh leave off.”
a/n: well done you made it to the end 😭😭 I’m so sorry but it’s not even over… PART 2 is coming up :) and I promise it’s more interesting that this part…
(this was originally just going to be one long piece of writing but I’ve split it into two now)
… more fics on my TIG masterlist
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letsdothisipromise · 2 years ago
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Things to tell the social worker:
I’m sorry, I’m not sure if this is the right place to talk about this, but I have been struggling with binge eating. I binge eat when I am sad, nervous, and even just bored.
Last week was the worst ever. I binged three times. Two days in a row, Wednesday, Thursday. Friday was good, then Saturday was awful.
On Saturday, I felt upset because I wasn’t stressed, I was just bored and wanted to eat yummy foods. I binge on food I deem unhealthy and foods I consider “bad or dirty”, because I feel if I eat them it makes me bad or dirty, even though food is just food and has no morality.
It started sometime last year, second semester. I wanted to eat healthy all of a sudden, then I started tracking calories. I went lower. I started at 2000 a day, then I dropped to 1600-1700. I binged every weekend, sometimes twice a week due to the restriction.
However, I greatly underestimated my callories. I sometimes would add 100s to my daily total, so in reality I could had been eating much less than I was tracking. I lost weight. My lowest was 91 pounds. I was a healthy weight before i started, around 110, I would think, as I never used to weigh myself as much as I did, but I wanted to be skinny. I always thought I was fat. I lost my period completely, although it’s always been irregular. I was cold all the time, and I would weigh myself daily. I used to hide the scale in my room, but then my mom found it and took it away. I found out where she hid it, and would secretly go there and put back in the closet so that she thought it was still hidden.
I finally stopped counting clas, although I would relapse was when I found out loosing my peroid, being cold all the time, were warning signs of not eating enough which could cause low bone density. I also wanted to keep my thick, curly hair. I had to kind of go cold turkey. It was hard. On days I binged I used to restrict the next day.
The binging lessened for some time, and became less frequent. I slowly started having bread again. Pasta and rice took the longest to eat, as they were fear foods. I finally can have them, but only in small amounts.
However, the binging never stopped. I still have the all or nothing mentality, have a horrible sense of balance, and once I overeat i think “oh well, better enjoy it now because you must never eat dirty ever again” and I binge.
After I binge, I usually have a stomach ache and feel very nauseous. I feel hopeless.
I’m afraid to tell my family because they think I’m very healthy and I’m very ashamed of my binging. I eat even though I feel sick. My mom struggles too, and she seeing a dietitian and has been getting better. I haven’t told anyone anything about this before. I’m very scared.
This is not my first time seeing a social worker. I have seen a few for anxiety. I was never officially diagnosed with anything. The first time I saw a therapist was when I was around 11 or 12. It was for anxiety and anxious thoughts. I then saw one for covid anxiety, as I would cry so much in the car in the school parking lot because I was scared to get sick my mom would drive me home and let have the day, sometimes. That was in grade 8.
I then saw another social worker for grade anxiety. I needed perfect grades, anything below a 90 is a failure, ect. That never truly resolved and I still believe it. It’s always in the back of my mind.1
I feel guilty for trying to get help because I’ve always been a burden as I am truly blessed with a loving, beautiful family, good healthy, fortunate, I have a home, fancy clothes, lots of electronics, my grandma makes delicious food nearly every day… and so much more.
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chiliiscereal · 3 years ago
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Prompt idea: the turtles with a friend or s/o that sleep walks.
Turtles with and S/o that sleepwalks
———-
So I based this off how my cousin sleep walks hope you don’t mind :)
Raph:
-home boy freaked out the first time he saw you sleepwalk
-he was up at night getting some cake but when he saw you walking by HO HO BOY did he jump out of his skin
-no one else was awake and you practically materialized out of the shadows!
-he eventually calmed down enough to realize that you weren’t awake
-I mean, it wasn’t exactly obvious
-you sort of walked around aimlessly a while mumbling
-that wasn’t really something sleeping people did..
-“babe, what’re you doin’ up? It’s 1 in the morning!”
-“I gotta put the salami CD’s in the chicken coop”
-“umm.. what?”
-once it finally clicked he didn’t exactly know what he should do
-was it a myth that you weren’t supposed to wake up a sleepwalking person?
-was there some sort of side affect?
-instead of intervening he just sort of sat at the table and watched
-he didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong but he also didn’t want you to get hurt
-he found himself getting up a couple of times when he thought you were gonna run into a table, moving it out of the way at lightning speed
-Other than that you were fine
-you simply walked back into your room and shut the light off
-he asked about it the next morning and you told him you sleep walk if you’re really tired
-and, sadly, being in highschool meant that you were tired all the time
-apparently you’d done it since you were little and you were used to it by now
-Raph didnt exactly know what he should do about it
-you told him you were fine and that he should leave you be, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you
-he decided the best course of action was to help behind the scenes
-that meant making sure you didn’t stay up late
-if you slept walked when you were really tired then he’d stop you from that state of feeling
-he had an alarm set for when he’d start hinting that it was bedtime
-he’s unplug the WiFi if you didn’t get the message (subtly of course) and then he’d turn around and tell you that the WiFi always got spotty when it was late
-he’d even stay up a little later to see if you were going to sleep walk
-if not then he’d head straight to bed
-but sometimes you still did it
-he’d found the best option was to just pick you up and place you back in your room
-“but the salami CD’s...”
-“they’ll still be there in the morning.”
-he’d pull you close to him and let you snuggle in close, the two of you sitting on your
-he always left before you woke up though
-yet you knew he had been there
-it was hard not to know when you woke up with a huge dip in the other side of your bed
-the two of you had a system and it worked
Donnie:
-Donnies already up and working by the time you start walking around
-the thing is, he didn’t realize you weren’t awake for probably an hour
-you were just walking from room to room and occasionally picking things up
-he was used to you being up late in his defense
-but when you ignored him or started mumbling... yeah that ripped him off
-“babe can you pass me the screwdriver?”
-“no, the radishes aren’t condensed.”
-“...I’m sorry?”
“Radishes.”
“Are you even awake?”
“I gotta go condense the radishes before Mikey finds out.”
-this boy was educated on the sleepwalking in a matter of seconds via research
-he knew you needed the rest so he never woke you up
-instead, he would find wherever you were walking around and have you stay in his room while he worked
-you never broke anything and it was nice to not be alone in a way
-besides your sleepwalking never lasted for long
-often it ended with you wandering over to him and slumping against his shoulder
-that meant he got to hold you while the night was quiet and peaceful
-the next morning you always woke back up in your own bed
-Donnie denied that he ever had anything to do with your sleepwalking
-but all you had to do was test it out to find the truth
-you walked into his room without a word one night and he didn’t even seem surprised
-“you good babe?”
-you chose not to say anything, you just kept walking
-“how are those condensed radishes doing?”
-you didn’t know what that meant but you assumed it was something you said in your sleep
-“you’re awfully quiet tonight. Usually you don’t stop talking.”
-you sit down beside him and place your head on his shoulder
-boy doesn’t even hesitate in pulling you closer and going back to work
-you don’t bother telling him that you know
-it’s nice to have someone looking out for you
Leo:
-oh he found out the first time you slept walked
-even brought it up casually the next morning
-he has insomnia so anything that happens after hours he’s already aware of it
-for the first few nights it was him joking about the cause being something supernatural
-he stopped when he thought you were getting offended though
-he diiiiid however say you were the sleep to his insomnia
-he can’t sleep at night and nothing can wake you up!
-you two balance each other out!
-and believe me, he has TRIED to wake you up to no avail
-doesn’t matter if it’s a loud noise or shaking your shoulder, nothing will wake you up
-unfortunately, since he’s always awake, he gets to see everything you do while wandering around
-AND he gets to see it while recording
-he’s got videos and videos of the random nonsense that comes out of your mouth
-and if he ever finds you cleaning in your sleep heaven knows he’s gonna find a way for you to take care of some of his chores to
-“come on, babe! You were already folding clothes! What’s a few extra?”
-he does find himself having to emergency portal you at times
-like the time you nearly walked off the skate ramp
-he portalled you into his arms as quick as he could
-“who decides to put a skate ramp right where people can fall down it?” He’s mumbling as he carries you back to his room
-having you there helps his insomnia very much
-in a way you’re both helping each other
Mikey:
-took the longest time to realize you sleepwalk
-if took him a whole two months
-usually you stayed in your own room
-he only realized when you walked into his room started picking up his art supplies while he was painting
-usually when he was painting you would plop down beside him and ask him questions (all during the day)
-but now you were picking up brushes and mumbling about how you needed to save the tomato’s before the bear ate them all
-poor baby ran to Donnie, thinking you were sick or delusional
-his older brother casually explained that it’s probably just sleep walking and he calmed down
-he was a little freaked out but grew used to it after a couple more night of it
-doesn’t really understand why you sometimes do normal things in your sleep like cleaning or fixing a sandwich
-still finds himself helping you out though
-he’ll be right next to you, folding clothes or passing you the mayo
-recently he found out he can ask you questions and get pretty funny answers
-“do you prefer hot dogs, hamburgers, or pizza?”
-“soggy bread.”
-“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
-always keeps you updated the next morning
-it embarrassed you to no end
-he didn’t need to hear all that stuff!
-one night he asked a less casual question
-“so how do you feel about Mikey?”
-“I would eat a thousand soggy breads for Mikey if he asked.”
-“r-really?”
-“of course. I love him!”
-that was the first time you openly said you loved him
-honestly his heart stopped for a few seconds
-he brought it up that next morning and no, you wouldn’t eat a thousand soggy breads if he asked
-but yes, you loved him to pieces
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damiano-mylove · 3 years ago
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Condescending Bitch
Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader
Wc: 2.5k
Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)
Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.
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If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.
There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.
You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.
In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.
You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.
"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"
Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."
"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."
God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.
A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.
"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."
You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.
It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.
Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.
At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.
You knocked. Your heart was deafening.
"Come in!"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.
"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.
This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.
"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."
For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"
"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.
"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."
He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.
All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"
"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."
"You're a condescending bitch."
"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.
Without a glance back, you left.
Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.
It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.
How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.
Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.
A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.
When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.
"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"
How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?
You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"
"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.
As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?
Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.
"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.
You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.
However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.
"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.
"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."
As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"
"He called me a condescending bitch."
"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."
"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."
Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"
Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.
But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.
Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.
Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.
Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.
It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.
As suddenly as it began, it ended.
Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."
"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."
In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.
"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.
You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.
After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"
"Anything."
"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."
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le-poor-writer · 3 years ago
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Serve at First Sight (Kageyama Tobio x F!Reader)
"I bet I can..." Hinata mumbled and narrowed his eyes at him.
"Hah?" Kageyama glared back. "What did you just say?"
"I'm not good at setting. BUT I BET I CAN HIT THE LONGEST AND FASTEST SERVE!"
"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"
"YOU WANNA GO NOW?"
"Uh... Kageyama, Hinata, Stop messing around or else you'll get an earful from Daichi-san." Yamaguchi tries to mediate the situation. The last time the idiotic duo did something stupid, all the first years had to run extra laps. And he was not up for that today.
"No use talking to idiots Yamaguchi." Tsukki sneered. "They have an IQ capacity of a teaspoon."
Hinata stood at the line of the court, deciding to go first. Throwing the ball into the air, he jumped as high as he could. As if he were a crow that leaped into the sky. His ball managed to land a good one meter away from line of the opposite side. A loud bang resonating the court and he beamed smugly at his tall opponent. Kageyama had a ball ready in hands as he took Hinata's place. Itching to outperformed the record set by the orange-head. Closing his eyes, he briefly replayed Oikawa's diabolical jump serve from their previous practice match. He knew he was a hundred years too early to be able to do that. Doesn't mean he won't try his luck though.
With a deep exhale, he took flight. Blocking out all sounds surrounding him, save that of his squeaking shoes and the volleyball as he slapped it forward. The stinging sensation felt on his hand causing him to grin. Not quite like Oikawa's, but still powerful. This is it, it will definitely plunge further than Hinata's. And it did. The ball flew pass that one meter mark. And hit a person. Kageyama's eyes blinked twice before the situation finally seeped through his thick skull. He had hit someone's head! Suddenly he could hear his surroundings again. Hinata panicked scream. Yamaguchi running towards the unfortunate human being who fell to the ground. Tsukki trying not to laugh at this slapstick comedy.
Kageyama sprinted towards the person. A hundred thoughts running through his mind. Is the person alright? Is he going to get in trouble with Daichi for this? Where are the third years anyway? Most importantly, when was that person there? How is it he did not notice them? What were they doing there in the first place? Surely no one would actually collapsed from that hit, right? He stood behind Yamaguchi who was trying to communicate with the seemingly unconscious person. And that was when Kageyama noticed, the person was a girl. A petite girl. He kneeled beside Yamaguchi. She seemed to be a little pale.
"Hello?" Yamaguchi tapping her shoulder. "Excuse me, can you hear me?"
No reply.
"KAGEYAMA KILLED SOMEONE!" Hinata hollered.
"What are you going to do now Kageyama?" Despite knowing that she only passed out, Tsukki decided to humour Hinata.
"I'll take her to the nurse's office." Immediately he carried her and jogged out of the court. Hoping not to run into anyone. Especially Daichi.
He couldn't help but glance at her face every three seconds. Wondering if she will wake up midway. But she didn't and that worried him more. If it weren't for her soft faint breaths he would have thought that he actually committed manslaughter with his jump serve. Besides, she has such a small frame. He was afraid if he really did break her. Kageyama held her closer to his body. Noticing how she fit snugly in his arms. And when looked closely, she's actually really cute. A blush spread quickly all over his face. What was he thinking? He doesn't even know her.
~~~~~~~~~~
(Y/n) blinked slowly. Feeling slightly dazed.
She woke up late today, all because of that stupid extra Japanese literature homework that had to be submitted during first period. And because she woke up late, she skipped breakfast. She wanted to get something during lunch, but had to drop by the school library to return some books that were due today. Well what do you know, apparently everyone needed to return their books today. If she had known she would've asked her friends to at least get her melon bread. She had about 10 minutes left before lunch ended, but she ran into her senior and was reminded to submit the club activities report today.
It was so hard to focus on classes for the rest of the afternoon. She drank lots of water in hopes to delay the impending dizziness. It was somewhat working. She only needed to wait until clubs and activities time. She'll get a sugary drink from the vending machine, then tell the club leader that she's going to head home early. But karma really had to be a bitch today. Her wallet was not in her bag. (Y/n) dreaded the fact that she might have dropped it somewhere. Searching for her wallet with this now nasty migraine is really going to be such a pain. That is until she suddenly remembered she left it in her drawer at home. She had forgotten about it amidst the rush.
(Y/n) crouched in front of the vending machine. What are the gods playing at exactly. Is it really so hard to get a single bite? Is this karma for denying Mr. Snuggles his treat last week? Well it was not her fault that he knocked over her pudding off the table! She was on the verge of tears when she heard the sound of volleyballs. Oh right, the vending machine was sort of close to the volleyball court... Didn't Yachi say she was recently the co-manager for Karasuno's volleyball club along with that beautiful senior Kiyoko. There is hope. She only needed a little money to get that small carton of drink.
She stood up quickly and regretted it. God, this migraine is killing her. With every ounce of determination she had left, she dragged her feet towards the court. Swaying a little every now and then. The sounds were getting louder, The ball hitting the court, shoes squeaking and people yelling? This is a good thing, it meant that she was getting closer. This is also a bad thing, because it's splitting her skull. Everything around her blurred as she entered the hall. Shit, where is Yachi? She took a few more steps before she felt a hard impact on her head. Dear lord that hurts like hell. And she lost all control of her body before everything went black.
"Oi." a gruff voice distracted her thoughts.
She sat up immediately. Hitting her head on the bed post in the process. She has realized by now that she must have passed out and someone from the volleyball club took her to the nurses office. It must have been this boy sitting beside her. But that still didn't mean she wouldn't be caught off guard. She has always been somewhat intimidated by the male species. Especially those tall towering ones that had to bend a little to talk to her. It's one of the unfortunate things one has to endure being 4'10 and having a small frame. People often joked that she could fit in a suitcase. Though seeing her other shorter friends did brought her pleasure, it still doesn't change the fact that a lot of people around her were giants.
"Idiot."
"Excuse me?" she glared. What's the big idea calling her an idiot out of nowhere. He was the one who surprised her. Sitting on a stool at her bedside, ain't that too close for a stranger, sir?  Who is he again? The volleyball club is pretty popular here in Karasuno after they managed to get into the finals of Inter high recently. It was unfortunate that they lost to Aoba Johsai, but everyone acknowledged what a monster the school was. Yachi said everyone felt down but it didn't dampened their spirit, for their next chance will be the Spring Tournament.
"S-sorry." the guy replied.
Dark eyes darting away from her face. She could make out an intimidating look on his face. Eyebrows furrowing sternly. Lips set on a grim line. Yet his cheeks flushed. Or was it because of the orange hue from the setting sun (she couldn't really tell), which also made his black hair glow. It dawned upon (y/n) that if he could just smooth away his frown, he would be handsome (she thinks). And if only he weren't being gruffy. Wait a minute. Tall volleyball player, black hair, intimidating frowning face but yet somehow still good looking?
"I'm Kageyama Tobio-"
"I know."
Silence... Well that was awkward.
She cleared her throat. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n). From Class 5. Um, Yachi's friend."
"Oh." Shoot. He didn't know she was Yachi's friend. What will the manager say about this. "I'm sorry. That my jump serve knocked you out."
"No no no! I was actually a little hypoglycemic. So your uh, jump serve was just the final nail in the coffin." Damn, she knew that getting hit by any ball was going to hurt. But the ball just now, it felt like it could tear her head off. Or maybe that's just an exaggeration of being starved the whole day. She realized his expression went from frowning to horrifying. "N-not that it will literally be the final nail to my coffin! It was just an expression. Maybe not a good one. Sorry I'm just bad with words when it comes to strangers. I mean not that you're an absolute stranger. It's just that- I'm sorry, I'm blabbering too much."
"Not at all!" he yelled. Ah, he got too animated. He didn't understand why. But he just thought everything about this girl is cute. From her petite stature that makes him want to shield her from the wind. To her way of talking that showed just how shy and awkward she was as how it is with him. Trying to reassure him that it was fine. He couldn't understand this sudden grip in his heart and the tingling sensation at his fingertips. Though maybe it was because he hasn't touch the volleyball for a few hours now.
Another awkward silence ensues.
"Anyways," (Y/n) was still a bit shy. She was after all talking to one of the most popular boys at school. But seeing as how he is now, she thought she could loosen up her guard a bit. "Have you seen my glasses?"
"You wear glasses?"
They rushed back together to the volleyball court. Yachi attacked her with a hug as she lamented about the news she heard from her fellow peers. Daichi scolding him to be careful next time whilst Tanaka giving him his infamous gangster glare. Hinata coming forward with his head down as he presented (Y/n)'s broken glasses. He accidently stepped on them when he was panicking, though he only realised it when she was sent to the nurse's office. Her glasses must have fallen off her head when she got hit. That hard huh. Really God, you want to test her that much today. Fine, she'll apologize to Mr. Snuggles when she gets home.
Unbeknownst to her, Kageyama felt even worse than earlier. His ball caused her to knocked out, and now it even knocked off the glasses from her head and broke it. Stuttering on his words, he apologized again. Hands balled into a tight fist. He just felt so bad. Suga noticed how dejected he sounded. But he also noticed how pink his ears were. Oh? Well even if it wasn't what he thought, there was no harm in... light teasing. Besides, they'd looked adorable together, no?
"If you really feel guilty. Then you should walk her home today." slinging his arm over Kageyama's shoulder, Suga tried to keep a neutral expression. Well there was a slight smirk, but he tried. "What if she falls down on her way home? Or run into a pole?"
"I am short-sighted Sugawara-senpai. Not blind." (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. Really these eyesight jokes should be old by now. "Besides, I will need to stop by the optic shop to have new ones made."
"All the more for him to accompany you. It will get dark soon. Might be dangerous to be walking alone with such bad eyesight."
"Oh no, I wouldn't want to burden-"
"Let's go." Kageyama interrupted. And when she declined again, he argued back. "Stop being a stubborn idiot. You still haven't eaten, you can't see well and you're so light that people can just easily carry you away."
Did he just called her an idiot for the second time in the short the period they have known each other. How rude! Not that his points were invalid. He was right. But boy does this person lack delicacy. In the end, she agreed to let him accompany her. He bought two cartons of milk from the vending machine. One for each of them, and they set off on their merry way.
~~~~~~~~~~
"No- Okay. Once again. Osmosis only works with solvents. Simple diffusion, both solvents and solutes. So in osmosis, solvents will move from low solute concentration-" (Y/n) stopped explaining when she noticed how Kageyama's brows were almost touching. His lips formed a small pout. "You know what, we have been revising for more than an hour. Let's take 5. Then continue for another hour. It's getting late and although my mum likes you, my dad wouldn't like you being in my room for too long."
Ever since that day where he sent her home, she began hanging out more with Yachi and the volleyball club. Not that she never hung out with her close friend, it's just that (y/n) felt out of place when she mingles with unfamiliar crowds. But now that every member knew her as the girl who got hit by Kageyama's jump serve, that became the basis of her acquaintanceship with the club and she got to hang out with Yachi more. And before she realized it, Kageyama has just been around her circle. Always there. Heck he has been walking her home more often now that even her mother likes him. Then they became just friends. Or she hoped it stayed that way, because she noticed her emotions began crossing unknown territories.
(Y/n) has come to learn a few things about Kageyama Tobio over the course of their friendship. One, he is an obsessed volleyball freak. A prodigy people say. But what (Y/n) sees is a person consumed by passion for the things he loves. And that isn't necessarily bad. Two, he can be quite childish. He fails to control his frustration which later comes off the wrong way whenever he expresses them. But really he means no harm, because when he is happy, he expresses them genuinely. And three, he is quite sensitive. He may want to show that he didn't care, but he actually takes things to heart. He may feel down about a comment, but he will learn to improve from it.
"Sorry."
"What for?"
"For having to teach an idiot like me."
"Oh stop it. Everyone is good and bad at something. We can't all be the perfect prodigy. That's just how things are. You may be bad at studying, but with your volleyball skills I bet you can represent Japan one day." noticing his eyes lit up, she continued. "So in order for you to attend your camp. Let's just try our best okay?"
Kageyama nodded. It was a little embarrassing to have her comforting him like this. But at the same time it brings him immense joy. When he first met her, he would get flutters looking at her cute appearance. Now, he just feels all warm and fuzzy whenever she talks to him. He liked that she didn't judge him or anyone she's ever met. She would scold him sometimes, but at the same time explained her reasoning. And he really appreciated that, how patient she was with him. It does make him guilty, but at the same time he wants to start behaving better. Is this what Suga meant when he said he has a crush on (Y/n)? Kageyama doesn't really know. He will need time to analyze everything.
"(L/n), do you have time during our Spring Tournament?" he tried looking anywhere else but her face.
"You want me to cheer on the club? Sure thing."
"Yes." Hearing her reply made him smile. With a steady gaze he stared straight into her eyes. "Watch me play, (y/n). I'll show you a really strong serve."
(Y/n) could only smile back as she felt butterflies in her stomach. "Then we better get back to studying."
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lovelytarou · 4 years ago
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the language of flowers — oikawa tooru
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pairing: oikawa tooru x gn! reader
genre: fluff, flowershop!au
tags: flowerboy!oikawa, slowburn, strangers to lovers
word count: 4.06k
a/n: i finally finished this after 2536484 years of procrastination! but thanks to my moots shae and julie for showing support and giving their opinions about this concept hehe. this is the longest fic i've written wow 😳
⤷ summary: the flowershop on the street you frequently walk on going home is a wonder you didn't notice until recently when the smell of flowers caught your attention. deciding to enter it one day out of pure curiosity, you met the owner of the shop and with it, the start of a blooming romance.
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life was filled with repeating patterns, certain routines and habits that everybody has gotten used to doing. like the way you always took the same path when going home, passing by the familiar faces you encounter all the time, seeing the similar architecture and landscape that brings some sort of familiarity to you whenever you see it. 
your feet stopped in their own accord when a sweet smell invaded your nose. you inhaled deeply, the aroma pleasant and fresh. going a few steps back, you finally saw where it was coming from. the flower shop stood out like a sore thumb in the street with its vibrant flowers that you can see through the clear glass. the sunlight was shining down upon the beautiful flowers and they looked charming even from afar. 
you thought for a moment and decided that you'd stop by in the flower shop for a little while. besides, if the smell alone has caught your attention, who knows what else can? 
the soft tinkle of the bell on the door signalled your presence. you were simply in awe at the sight of the decorations inside the shop. it was breathtaking. numerous flowers, bouquets, wreaths, and some that you don't know the name about were placed neatly and elegantly inside the shop to let the customers feast their eyes (and noses) upon. 
giggles and loud laughter snatched you away from your thoughts, a huddled group of women and men alike are circling over something - or someone? - and they seemed to be too entertained about it than the flowers themselves. chuckling quietly, you shook your head and decided to look around the place more for yourself. 
there were buckets and baskets of anemones in pinks, reds, and purple. there were also daffodils, camellias, and tulips of many colors that you can't help but get sucked in by them. you can't think which one to go to first, there are so many! the hanging plants are wonderful as well, they can make for great decoration. the succulents look cute and adorable, it can also be manageable if you find yourself too busy to take care of a plant. 
you were too deep in your thoughts, caressing a blue tulip to even notice the sudden silence in the shop and the ringing of the bell at the door that tells you the previous patrons have exited the flower shop and you're now alone. or so you thought.
“beautiful,” a sing-songy, lilting voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jolt from where you're admiring the flower and turned towards the owner of the voice. 
if the flowers took your breath away, well he made you get your breath stuck in your throat. he looks like he's not from around him, and simply breathing in his space is something short of disgraceful. you took in his wavy side-swept dark brown hair, and his welcoming eyes of the same color that shone with mischief. his lips are stretched into a smile. 
wow, he is really tall. you're surprised he hadn't reached the ceiling of the shop. he seemed pretty intimidating with his height alone, but there's an air around him that screams playfulness.
“ah, i meant the tulips.” he apologized as a blush coated his beautiful clear cheeks, a hand touching his nape.
“oh!” you cleared your throat, immediately bringing the tulip back where it respectfully resides, “yes, they're very wonderful to look at. you have a lovely shop, uh…” 
he seemed to perk up at the inquisition of his name, he chuckled to himself before offering his hand.
“oikawa tooru, nice to meet you! and thanks, i do try hard to keep this flower shop presentable for customers like you who have taste.” he winked, walking past you and you followed suit – eyes practically glued to his form as he moved swiftly around his small shop.
“must be difficult to run a business like this all by yourself,” you wondered, fingers brushing against petals that your hand can reach. 
it's odd, but staying in there for just a few minutes has brought you a sense of relaxation. as if the flowers all around you and talking to oikawa is such a breath of fresh air. 
“well, you get used to it after a while. besides, i have my friends, uh...help me sometimes.” he nervously chuckled, he certainly knew that 'help' means that force his friends to carry things around while blackmailing them and bribing them for lunch, then sure, he had them help him. 
you only hummed in response. 
he turned around after a while, a pink lily in his hand.
“i think this suits our gorgeous customer, don't you think?” he smirked, handing the flower with a flourish which you took gently – causing your hands to touch and making you feel that slight tingle people talk about in movies and books. 
you felt silly about the way your face heats up at the small gesture, your gaze not straying away from the flowers in fear of letting oikawa see his effect on you. 
but you can try with all your might, nothing can stop him from already seeing your flushed face. he always does these things to entertain the customers but he found his chest feeling warm staring at you like that.
going back to his place in the cashier, he started to tidy up a bit for the next customers that will visit the shop. his brown eyes kept staring at you from time to time as you walked around, trying to see if there's anything else you could buy along with the lily – but we all know it's just to keep your attention away from him and the fact that he can make your heart race with mere flirting.
“i never really noticed your shop before, and i have walked this street for how many times now.” you droned on, playing with the cute pots on the shelf – some of them were heads of the cliché green alien and other space themed stuff which you find adorable, bringing a fond smile to your face.
“oikawa's flower shop is like a secret garden, my dear customer.” he boasted, spraying freesias on the cashier desk with a smile on his face.
“it truly looks like one,” you agreed, with one final look in the flower shop, you walked closer to the cashier and got out your wallet. 
“no, no. it's on the house, lovely.” he beamed, stopping the hand in your bag.
“really? thank you.” your face flushed at the feeling of his hands – the very same one who took care of these beautiful flowers – touching yours. 
he recoiled, as if burned. his face painted a deep red like the roses by the windows. both of you looked away, like two magnets of the same sign – coming in contact with each other only to repel.
“well, um, i'll see you around then.” you muttered, breaking the silence. 
“yeah, see you.” oikawa smiled warmly. hopefully much sooner, he hoped.
with one last look at each other, you turned around and exited the secret garden. you walked home that day all smiles and giddy, still feeling the lingering touch he has left on your skin, how warm and calloused they felt. maybe from how hard he was working. 
you wondered if you'll ever see him again soon. 
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the second time you visited the flower shop was when you saw oikawa in one of the coffee shops you frequented. it turned out that he usually stops by for coffee and his milk bread when the shop's particularly slow. he asked to walk you home and since you're both taking the same path, you agreed. 
he turned out to be a very chatty person – not the kind that will annoy you because they only talk about themselves, but the amusing kind because he has a lot of stories stored inside his big brain full of tales about him and his friends, and occasionally asking about your life as well.
you two had fallen into a comfortable pace as you walked together, sipping both your beverages. 
“hey, let's play truth or dare!” he blurted, eyes sparkling in excitement and thinly veiled mischief, a bright smile on his lips.
“really? here? now?” you asked, incredulous. isn't this something people do in parties around a lot of people? 
“yeah! it'll be fun,” he shrugged. 
“well, okay then.” you sighed, before sipping your drink, “you go first.” 
“okay…” he pretended to think hard, eyes darting everywhere as he hummed, “truth or dare?”
“you don't really need to think so hard about that,” you chuckled.
“just pick!” 
“alright, alright. truth!” you beamed at him, trying to understand what his brain will cook up to ask you.
“ah, that's easy. what's your name?” oh, that's right. you forgot to tell him back then the first time you went in his flower shop. and so, you told him.
“y/n. what a beautiful name. okay, my turn! my turn!” he excitedly chanted, eyes never losing their sparkle. 
you ignored the butterflies that erupted in your stomach the moment he said your name, as if he's taking his time and tasting it around his tongue like a foreign delicacy he hasn't tasted before. 
you cleared your throat, averting his gaze as they zeroed in on you, “truth or dare, mr. milk bread?” 
“hey, they taste really good, i'll have you know.” he scoffed, before his face morphed back into excitement again, “dare!”
you thought for a moment, there isn't really anything too interesting to do while walking. and then you smirked.
“i dare you to greet the person who will walk this corner as if you knew each other for a very long time,” you grinned devilishly. he gaped at that, before darting his gaze towards the street corner you were talking about. 
“y/n-chan, i didn't know you would be the type,” he teased, you were about to retort when a huge, buff man walked around the corner. he looked intimidating, even for you and you wondered what oikawa might be feeling right now. 
but you didn't need to wonder about it any longer as he was already walking up to the man, confident and grinning. he raised his hand in the air before slapping the guy on the shoulder. 
“hey, long time no see, man! say hello to the wife and kids for me, will ya?” the man gave him a weird look before shaking his head, walking past and minding his own business muttering about 'kids these days'.
once the guy was out of earshot, you and oikawa bursted out in laughter, looking at each other with relief and surprise.
“i thought he was going to pulverize you!” you wheezed in between chortles.
“i know! me too! i thought he'll get mad at me or something,” he threw his head back as he laughed. you stopped your own giggles to stare back at him. he looked radiant as he let himself go, you thought he looked attractive with the way he candidly showed his happiness.
“something wrong, y/n-chan?” you hadn't realized he stopped laughing and was left staring at him. his head was tilted in curiosity as he peered at you in concern.
“not at all!,” you catch yourself, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, hoping he didn't notice you ogling him, “where were we?”
“it's your turn now, truth or dare?” feeling bold, you chose dare next. 
oikawa gave you a broad smile, his hand extending towards you as if encouraging you to take it, “i dare you to stay a little longer with me in my shop,”
to be honest? you expected him to get back at you and maybe make you do an equally embarrassing (if not more) dare, but you did not expect this. 
what you also didn't expect is the fact that you had stopped in front of oikawa's flower shop with your back turned to it. how did you reach there so fast? it seemed like talking and walking with him made time stop. a part of you would like to keep it that way, if only it was possible.
“i would love to,” was your answer. oikawa opened the door to his shop, letting you in first. he then led you near the back of the shop, opening into a wide backyard that resembled a small, gorgeous garden with different kinds of flowers. some even you haven't seen him display in the shop inside. 
the two of you sat on the two seated table. you were simply at awe with how ethereal this all looked. your eyes couldn't get enough of all the wonderful colors that it landed on.
“wow,” was all you managed to say, taking in your surroundings and appreciating every nook and cranny presented to you.
“i spent most of my breaks here,” oikawa came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the glass table. 
“usually talking to myself and talking to the flowers. i heard it helps them grow faster and makes them more beautiful.” he, too, looked around his small garden with unconcealed pride and fondness. if you looked closer, you could also see the hint of sadness hidden in there. 
“you talk to your flowers? that's so cute!” you gushed, hiding your smile behind the glass of water as you sipped it.
“if anything, you're the one who's cute.” he complimented as if it was nothing, eyes boring into yours as his smile widened.
you choked on your water, coughing it up out of surprise and it was the opposite of cute. but his opinions didn't change.
oikawa barked a laugh, reaching over to pat your back soothingly. once you calmed down, you avoided his gaze once again and decided to stare at the sunflowers nearby. 
“we should just continue the game,” you decided to divert the topic. 
“truth or dare, cutie?” oikawa bit back the grin from emerging on his face. hiding it with a palm propped up on the table.
“d-dare,” you answered without thinking. and oikawa being the little shit he is, took this as an opportunity.
“i dare you to go on a date with me this saturday,” he sincerely declared, eyes not leaving you once. your head whipped back to him so fast, you swear you got whiplash. 
you're not one of these flowers and yet you felt the butterflies going wild inside of you.
your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest, pounding hard and ringing in your ears. 
“you don't need a dare to get me to say yes,” you reasoned with a wide smile.
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oikawa tooru, like his flowers, is a lively, blooming person. you get to know that the moment you agreed to go on a date with him. it followed a few hangouts, and frequent bumping into each other considering this was a small town, afterall. how you haven't noticed such a vibrant person in your life was beyond you.
you see him everywhere, every day in your life right now. in the small bushes that your neighbor has in their garden, the alien and sci-fi movies in the store which were his favorite every time he invited you to watch a movie, the milk bread you saw in the coffee shop you both love to go, and even the characters in the books you love to read. oikawa tooru practically invaded your life the moment you invited yourself in his flowershop and you loved every second of it.
every time you two hang out together, he never misses to bring you any flower. you'd always keep them with you until you come home, placing them in a vase and watering them constantly, taking care of them like how much oikawa takes care of the flowers. you paid no mind to it, only thinking that it was a sweet gesture from him until your friend decided to comment on the fresh flowers on top of your coffee table.
the both of you had known each other for a very long time now and that she's going to get married, she wanted you to be a part of it too. setting down the tea in front of her on the table, you sat down beside her, engulfing her in a hug. 
“oh, y/n! i missed you so much! it's been busy with all the planning for the wedding and the people to invite, i still haven't tried on my dress and tasted the cake, it's kind of stressing me out!” she immediately let her sorrows and agony free the moment you let go of the hug.
“speaking of stress, is there anything i could do to help?” you reached for her hand, rubbing it soothingly in circles. 
she hummed thoughtfully, sipping her tea to calm her nerves, “now that i thought about it, we still don't know anyone good enough for the flower decorations in the venue,” she pouted, sighing sadly. 
a lightbulb lit itself on top of your head, making you perk up, “i know someone who does!” 
“really? are they good?” oh more than good, you wanted to butt in but shake your head free of those thoughts. 
“of course! he's actually the one who gave me these, he takes real good care of them.” you gestured towards the tulips in your vase. it seems like her eyes lit up and she immediately fell in love with the flowers. 
“tulips?! oh, y/n, my dear, he's in love with you!” she squealed in glee, bouncing in her seat like a little kid.
“how did you know that by simply looking at my tulips?” 
“giving tulips to someone means a declaration of love, sweetie.” she sighed dreamily, “you might as well plan for your wedding too!” 
“don't be ridiculous!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to smile too wide. 
you weren't too against on the idea, but you just met afterall. it would be too early for another wedding. even though he never failed to show his affection every time you are together, there's still a lingering doubt whether he did like you in that way.
as promised, you asked oikawa about it the next day, stopping by his flower shop with coffee and his beloved milk bread since it's his break. 
“y/n-chan! it's always a pleasure to be visited by you again,” he greeted you, he was attending to a few customers in the store and excused himself before talking to you. your heart swelled with the action, not being able to hide your smile this time.
“tooru, i was just stopping by to ask you a favor. my friend's wedding is getting near and she still doesn't have any flower decorations for the venue. i mentioned you and i was wondering if you're the one who could do it instead?” you bit your lip nervously, fumbling with the paperbag containing the bread as you looked up at him hopefully. 
seriously, how can he resist you looking at him that way? your eyelashes fluttering, mouth formed into a pout, eyes shining brightly. you're just asking him to devour you whole. before he knew it, he had leaned in to peck the corner of your mouth. 
it completely shocked you to your core. he hasn't done that kind of thing before, always being respectful and never doing anything you didn't want to. but strangely, you weren't mad at him for it. to tell the truth, you kinda wished he kissed you more. 
“i'd love to, y/n-chan.” he uttered, pinching your cheek before turning to hide his own reddened face. 
that was basically the last time you saw each other since you recommended him to your friend. and since then, he has been busy and you tried to help with the wedding as well. you figured oikawa has his hands full with taking care of the decorations for the wedding, but even then, he would still message you or even facetime you after – asking about how yiur day went and craving to see your face without him being able to for how long.
the day of the wedding came and it was magical. your heart melted the moment your friends said their “i do's” as everybody clapped and rejoiced with them. the moment you stepped into the venue, everyone was amazed, speechless at the decorations being the first thing their eyes could feast upon. pink and white roses was all you could see – ranging from vine-like ones hanging from the ceiling, to arches in the doorway, and some are even placed neatly on the tables. 
to sum it all, it was breathtaking.
“your boyfriend did amazing,” your friend teased, bumping her hip to yours as she walked away with her husband to greet some guests.
you were left standing there, mouth agape as you took everything in. you couldn't wrap your head around the idea of oikawa managing to do all this by himself, but then again, he has surprised you by doing a lot of things you didn't know he could do. 
“you know, if you stayed here longer there won't be enough food left for you.” the familiaf voice you grew to love and got used to spoke from behind you. something tugged in your chest, the events seeming like déjà vu all over again. 
“i'm just admiring your work, tooru.” you smiled, turning around to face the man behind the beautiful decorations. 
he's changed his clothes into a more formal attire than his usual getup with the aprons and white button up shirt for a maroon suit and tie. he even styled his hair back, if you didn't know him long enough you might have mistaken him for someone else. 
“you look...good,” you managed to breathe out, it seems like the decorations aren't the only ones that are breathtaking. your eyes drank him in, how the clothes hug his frame perfectly, the color complimenting his skin tone, and the fact that his fluffy hair is swept away really makes you want to jump his bones right here, right now.
“and you look gorgeous. i must say, i don't mind you looking like this all the time, y/n-chan.” he chuckled, a shit-eating grin blooming on his face as he eyed you up and down slowly. your face grew hot against his stare and you felt naked, as if his eyes can see through you. 
“th-thanks, tooru.” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your clothes. before any of you could speak, however, the emcee spoke on stage calling out the bride and groom to give a speech. 
you all gathered around the small stage as they thanked everyone for coming to the wedding, inclduing the guests, their helpers, the staff. after all the mushy speech, she declared it was time for the dance, turned around and threw the bouquet (that's also from oikawa) to the audience. 
you saw the thing flying to you and out of pure instinct, you threw your hand in front of you and ended up catching the bouquet. everyone around you clapped including oikawa himself as you stared at it wide eyed. your gazed met oikawa's and as if your face couldn't get any hotter, you also felt the fast beating of your heart when you stared at each other. 
everybody howled and chanted teasing remarks at the two of you. instead of paying attention to the newly weds they picked the two of you as the center of their amusement. 
your friend's voice overpowered them all as she also chanted, “kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!” 
oikawa looked at you with a raised brow and you can only smile bashfully in return before you felt the world turn upside down, oikawa dipping you as he kissed you passionately and deeply. time seemed to stop once again as everything blurred and all you can feel is him, and all he can feel is you. he hoped it would be enough to pour all the emotions and words he wanted you to know. 
it felt like the kiss lasted forever before he pulled away, the two of you out of breath as you giddily smiled at each other, both sharing a lovestruck look.
“is it too early to ask you to marry me?” 
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general taglist: @chibishae34 @behan @bukojuiice (tagging you here bcs you're excited for this)
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a-detraque-barista · 4 years ago
Text
Bread and Blood
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Yandere Vampire Jimin x Reader
Genre: Yandere, Horror, Angst
Word count: 7.5k
Warnings: blood, abuse, anxiety, insecurity, yandere themes, mentions of religion, reader getting ignored??
A/N: Hello hello everyone~ this took me s o long cause it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy~ @strwbrry-lia
(I created the aesthetic myself 😊)
“Now now, Blood Bag. No need to get emotional over someone like him” whispered the blood-sucking monster that stood in front of you. Blood Bag. That was the ‘cute’ nickname he had come up with for you. The man in front of you wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The same hand that he put on your shoulder to make you look at him. “Why don’t you stop crying over that good-for-nothing for one second, and tell me what you were doing.”
Even though he used the word ‘why’, it was not a question. It was a command. Living with him for five months has taught you what different tones of voice he had. It was a wide range and some blurred with others making you tread lightly at those times. But right now, you knew you needed to respond correctly.
“I was just going to pack my things and bring them back home,” you choked through your tears as you tried your best to sound convincing.
“Tsk tsk, blood bag. We’ve talked about lying and that it’s bad. Haven’t we?” his grip on your shoulders became tighter as his red orbs stared into yours.
When you didn’t respond he repeated his question, “Haven’t we, blood bag?” His hand that was still covered in blood trailed the slope of your neck and wrapped his fingers to where you were struggling to breathe.
You quickly nodded. His fingers eased but did not leave the scarred and bruised skin. His eyes landed on the bite marks he’s left and couldn’t help the shiver slither up his spine. You were doing things to him that no one else could. Ever since he found you broken and beaten in this very building, his infatuation for you has only grown. How this happened, you have no clue. From the first time he bit you, you’ve been trying to leave his clutches. But you have no home, the only friend you had is now lying on the floor dead, and your family hates you. However, finding a place to stay wasn’t the only difficult part. The undead, blood-sucker wouldn’t let you leave.
“You always seem to be up in the clouds. Tell me, blood bag, what are you thinking about?” he spoke in his usual sickly sweet tone, masking the beast that was hiding.
“Thinking about how I got here,” you confessed and finally noticed you were back in the living room you’ve had to sit in for so many months.
“Well, that’s easy,” he stepped impossibly closer with his hands now cupping your face. “I saved you.”
⠽ ⡰⠑ ⠍⡠⠑
Tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight was Halloween. One of the most liked holidays. When kids go trick or treating and teenagers along with adults get drunk. Frights and screams are all around except for your little apartment at the edge of town. Your apartment was cold and dreary as you sat curled in your favorite corner. You were waiting impatiently for the inevitable beating that was coming for you. The knocks at your door went ignored as you cowered behind your bed.
An hour of waiting ended in a thunderous pounding at your door. Covering your ears did nothing to drown out the loud banging. Suddenly, in the middle of your panic-filled mind, you think of the fire escape outside of your bathroom window. You just had to get your legs to work before you could carry out your scattered plan.
Using the bed to help you up, you slowly and shakily make your way to your bathroom. You groaned internally as you realized this was the window your landlord had warned you about. It was the one that got stuck and needed force with special angling. You’ve never opened this window so you had no idea how to open it. Your fear overcame your pessimism making you try your best to get the window open.
After time and time again, you couldn’t open the damn thing. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down. You heard the door bust open making your head snap to the bathroom door that was still ajar. Quickly closing and locking it, you tried prying open the window again.
Someone was looking out for you up there because the window had finally budged, allowing you to crawl out and onto the rusted fire escape. You shut the window closed just in time as you saw your father burst through that door. Flipping him off, you climbed down quickly and into the alleyway. You began to run as fast as you could, already knowing your father was only now exiting the front door of the building.
You ran and ran. Even as your lungs began to burn and your legs aching, you kept running. The bruises and cuts on your face and stomach hurt more than anything at that point. You knew you couldn’t stop until you found somewhere he wouldn’t find you. Where no one would find you.
Then, the old abandoned warehouse where thirteen people mysteriously died came into view. Practically skidding to a stop, you were panting while contemplating if you should go in. Convincing yourself it would only be for the night, you squeeze through the wood that blocked the main door.
The air was no colder than your apartment so the clothes you had on were more than enough. You sat down on the floor next to the door that read ‘office’. The letters were faded and there were small bits of them missing. If you remembered correctly, this factory was almost seventy-five years old. The broken windows and cracked foundation proved as support for your guess.
After catching your breath, you stood up to head into the office. Looking around to see if anything was interesting. As nothing popped out at you, making your way upstairs seemed to be a good idea. That was until you saw him.
The man wasn’t necessarily tall, but he was still taller than you. His back was turned towards you but you could see the terror on the girl’s face that noticed you. Tears were rushing down her features as she winced in pain. Her voice was lost when she tried calling to you for help. Her face paled and her eyes rolled back. The woman’s body dropped to the floor and the man inhaled deeply. You heard the hitch in his breath and you backed away as slowly as you could manage. Unfortunately, glass crunched beneath the heel of your shoe. Without thinking for too long, you turned around and sprinted back down the stairs.
“Fuck no, not doing that shit,” you mumbled to yourself as you tried to exit the factory as fast as you could.
You felt a hand grab the back of your hoodie causing you to fall onto your back with a grunt. Turning over to your side to ease some of the pain in your back, you see a pair of shiny black dress shoes stand in front of you. With the tip of his foot, he pushed onto your shoulder so he could see your face better. His head tilted to the side, causing his hair to show more of his eyes that were glowing. The crimson color almost distracted you from the rest of his face.
His jawline was sharp and tilted up slightly as if he was looking down at you in a more demeaning way. His full lips that were covered in drying blood tugged into a smirk. He hummed as if thinking about what to do next. He planted his foot back down on the concrete floor before crouching down. You had to admit, the murderous man was even more handsome up close but you sadly couldn’t focus on him right now.
Your head began to feel light and fuzzy the more you looked at the man. Closing your eyes maybe wasn’t the best idea, but your head was suddenly submerged in pain. You moved the hand that was gripping the opposite shoulder to your head. It did nothing to take away the pain but there’s not much you could do as a killer stood above you, planning to do who knows what.
“Don’t worry, blood bag. I’m not gonna do anything to you...yet,” you heard his honey-like voice before feeling him wrap his arms around you. “My name’s Jimin, and you’re going to love your new hell.”
⤐ ⤐ ⤐ ⤐
Five months later and you were in, just as he said, hell. You have scars from his fangs all over, fatigue from blood loss, and an appalling adoration for the man who has brought you to his home. What he called home, you called hell. Not only were you used as livestock, but you were tormented by the fact you had fallen for your shepherd.
You hated calling him by his name because you thought it fit him so well and rolled off your tongue like it was meant to. So you called him anything but his name.
He was still locked up in his room like always and you’ve already ventured the enormous house, there was practically nothing to do. You’ve been staring at the wall so often you can no longer sit on the couch, where you’re certain has an ass print from you. Nothing in this mansion intrigued you anymore. Should you maybe...leave the house? You’ve never attempted to leave since you figured he would punish you for it. But how would he know if he’s always in his room or workspace?
You got up from your bed to look into the closet of wonders you’ve never bothered looking through. You just see a comfy set of clothes and go with that since you don’t do anything. Luckily, you found an outfit that matched your style. You didn’t have any money so it would just be a walk around the town, and getting to know exactly which town you were in.
It was a lot easier leaving than you thought was possible with a vampire living there. The house was on an isolated street but you saw old and rusted signs pointing towards the town. It was maybe a twenty-minute walk with you humming and slightly tripping over nothing. It was nice to finally get out of that suffocating house and go for a walk. The air was brisk and made your lungs feel like they were fully inflating.
Once you got to the main road of the city, many people were seen walking. Either by themselves or with children. The day was nice but it seemed there was an event going on. Crowds weren’t your thing so you decided to keep exploring the quaint town.
Walking by bakeries, craft stores, and many other family-owned shops. It was all different to you, having lived in bigger cities your whole life. You were walking by the only bookstore you’ve seen so far and decided to go in. It smelled of old paper and incense. Tall aisles were filled with any genre you could think of and more. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a bookstore.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” a deep voice broke you from your thoughts as you turned towards the man it came from.
“Oh, no, just looking. Thank you though,” you smile slightly before continuing your way to the back where the sign read ‘Folklore’.
“Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around town before. You just move here?” he followed you while asking his question.
“Yeah,” you didn’t feel like talking at this point.
“I figured. Well if you need someone to show you around I’d be more than happy to-”
“Yeong-Jun, go bother somebody else. She’s obviously not interested,” another voice interested the man that was pestering you.
The guy next to you huffed before leaving the store and you looked to see who had said that. He was behind the counter where a register and binders sat.
“I’m sorry about him, he does that all the time,” he smiled gently at you before going back to the small paperback in his hand.
You went back to scanning the spines of the books that sat in front of you, but your eyes kept glancing at the nice man who helped you out. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the two of you could be friends. He seemed nice and he obviously liked books, same as you. But what would you even say to him? Talking first was never your strong suit, or just making friends in general. You never knew what to say so maybe, it’d be best to just leave him alone.
At this point, you didn’t even know why you were taking so long in the store. It’s not like you could buy anything. Sighing, you headed towards the exit before the man at the counter’s voice stopped you.
“Didn’t find anything interesting?”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have the money for it.”
“Oh, well...How about you take one anyway?”
“I’m sorry?” you turned back to face him.
“You can take a book of your choosing. Think of it as me lending it to you. For free,” he said through a chuckle after seeing your expression.
“You sure?”
He nodded before motioning at all the rows of books. Swiftly, before he could change his mind, you made your way back to the Fantasy section and grabbed the one you had been eyeing almost the whole time.
You stopped at the counter, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, just bring it back when you’re done and you can borrow another one,” he smiled so wide it made his eyes turn into crescents.
You tried hiding your smile while nodding and exiting the store like a child who had just gotten candy. Books have been your only entertainment ever since he kidnapped you. There was no television to watch, no laptop, or a gaming system. The castle held no form of technology besides electricity for the lighting and sound systems. No matter where you were in the house, you could always hear music. It was beautiful yet sad performed by a group of woodwinds, brass, and many other instruments.
It’s good music to read to. You decided to head back to your hell. Wait...Why...Why would you go back if you were able to walk out the front door, be gone for almost an hour, and walked around town with no questions asked?
You turned around and headed to the church because that was the only place you could think of that would let you stay for free without worrying too much about a creep.
The last thing on your mind now was the thing that was holed up in his room, becoming hungry.
You slowly opened the door to the only church in town that was almost as big as the castle you came from. Not seeing anyone, you fully entered the building with the book in your hand. You tried to walk as quietly as you could but your shoes hitting the polished tiles caused echoing that bounced off the high ceiling walls.
“Hello? Is someone there?” a voice was heard coming from the side. You didn’t respond as you heard footsteps coming closer. “Oh, well hello there. What can I help you with?”
“I-I...I was wondering if I could, um, stay here for the night?” your social skills have suffered tremendously because of the anxiety your family has caused.
“Oh dear child, of course, you can. God’s house is always open to anyone,” he guides you to the other side of the building where he opened a door showing a long hallway.
As you walked down the large corridor, you noticed all the doors you passed by. Some were closed and some were opened. The opened ones revealed empty rooms with a bed and nightstand. You assumed the closed doors were occupied rooms.
“Many people stay here, all for their own reasons. We have a dining hall just around the corner, baths are just past that, and you are always welcome to join sermons,” he stopped in front of a room that was at the very end of the hall. “If you need anything, we have many sisters throughout the church that will be happy to help.”
“Thank you,” you slightly bowed before entering the room.
“Of course,” he closed the door and walked to a random spot in the corridor. He placed his hand on the wall while whispering a murmur in Latin. A door opened and he entered.
He descended the spiral case of marble stairs before coming to another door. This door had carvings of so many symbols, you couldn’t count. He touched a particular one causing the door to creak open.
“You all felt it as I did,” he spoke loudly before he sat down in his designated chair.
“You wouldn’t be able to,” another pastor said sarcastically.
“Will he come?” asked a nun.
“I do not know,” sighed the pastor who showed you to your room.
“Will you protect the girl, Claude?” asked a woman who sat in the middle of the table.
“Yes.”
You had fallen asleep almost seven hours ago, according to the clock that hung on the wall opposite of the bed you laid in. That was the most sleep you have gotten in about two years. Insomnia was a bitch you knew all too well. Being able to sleep for so long made you full of this energy you haven’t experienced in so long. A knock was heard at your door before a nun poked her head in.
“It’s time for supper,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” she closed the door after slightly nodding to your response.
You sighed before looking out of the window that was close to the ceiling. You slept and found a place to stay but now what? You couldn’t live here so close to him. Yes, you loved him but it was unrequited and you knew it. It’s not like you could help it. In the little time you’ve spent with him, that didn’t involve your blood, he was kind and his smile gave you a serotonin boost. The way he was gentle with the plants he had and how he disagreed with the disgusting morals of characters from a different era. All of these things made you grow feelings for the undead immortal. Maybe it was because you’ve never encountered such a personality. But who knew?
You climbed out of the bed and headed to the dining hall with the book in your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal that wasn’t frozen or from a restaurant. You never felt like cooking even though you knew how, you just never felt like it.
The volunteers were kind as they offered you everything they had. Sticking with only the bread and stew they made, you sat down at an empty table while beginning to read the book you picked out from the store. The front and spine read Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by April Genevieve Tucholke.
Someone had sat next to you making you look at them in the corner of your eye. It was the priest from yesterday. He had a plate of his own filled with stew, bread, and rice.
“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he motioned towards the open book in front of you.
“Oh, uh, no. It’s fine,” you nodded making him smile softly.
“What brings you here?” he asked while respectfully eating his bread.
You had to think carefully about what you wanted to say. You couldn’t just tell him that a vampire had kidnapped you, but didn’t care enough to keep an eye on you.
“I ran away from home.”
“Why is that my child?”
“My father- he uh…he would hit me...a lot, so one day I ran away,” it wasn’t a complete lie. That is what had happened at the beginning of all of this. However, your town was most likely miles and miles away.
“I am sorry, my child. Do you still, um, have bruises or anything?” he was hesitant in the way he spoke hoping he wouldn’t upset you.
You nodded causing him to sigh. Some people were truly out of God’s reach and your father needed to be punished for abusing as he had.
“Where are you from?” he asked looking back at you.
“Seoul.”
“Seoul? My, that’s ways away from here. How did you get to Busan?” he was shocked by how far you have traveled and was curious how you managed to get down here. Of course, he knew how you got there but he wanted to know if you trust him or not. By how long it took you to answer, it was obvious you didn’t trust easily.
“Many many buses,” you lied through your teeth, to a priest no less. Good thing you lost faith a long long time ago.
“I see,” bells rang in the distance signifying everyone that supper time was over and it was time to either go to your room or do chores. “We’ll get you started on chores tomorrow, okay?”
You nodded once again before standing up and taking care of your tray before heading back to your temporary room. Started on chores?? How long does he think you’re staying here? Now that you know what city you’re in, it will be much easier to get back to Seoul. You just had to find a way to get back and then figure out where you were going to stay. Your mind went to the book in your hand
You laid down so the growing headache could maybe stop from spreading from your frontal lobe to the cortex. Setting your book on the table beside you, sleep was your best choice at the moment.
Candy apple eyes stared down at the pathetic looking ‘House of God’. The eyes held hatred and disgust for the building and the oh so holy salvation that occupied it. The man’s features turned sour thinking about all the bothersome puppets that have tried to kill him, more often than not.
He wasn’t here for them, no-no. He was here for you of course. At first, he didn’t even realize you had escaped. Your scent was covering every inch of his mansion so it took maybe a whole day before he realized you were gone. The vampire was in his office so he wouldn’t bite you so much. Whenever he drank your delicious blood, he felt it course through his veins, he felt the warmth he once did when he was alive, he felt. And that terrified him. He was scared of the feeling, but he didn’t want to lose it. So he spent hours and hours researching from the very scripts his ancestors and others wrote, trying to find a way to keep you forever.
Now he’s sitting there thinking, how fucking stupid could he have been to let you leave like that. All the doors had normal locks so it wouldn’t take much brainpower to figure them out. If he didn’t get you back before another creature claimed you, it would be over. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Because you were different. He knew that. Your smell, your taste, and your personality. All of it was so entrancing and he let it slip away just like that. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but what vampire isn’t? Maybe it was a good thing you escaped. How else could he hunt for such scrumptious prey? He loved to hunt before he fed but that usually ended with his prey dying. This time, he was going to keep you. Not only for your blood but also for you. The sarcastic remarks you made had made him laugh, your smile made his unmoving heart skip, your eyes told a story that only you knew. Yeah, he wasn’t going to let you go.
The priest who had welcomed you had once again descended the marble stairs into the secret hideaway. Once the nun saw him approach she spoke loudly, “He’s already here and you’re playing tea party with the girl.”
“No need for malice, sister,” the priest sat down in his usual chair and placed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He knew he was here. Years of training his perception had been fruitful.
“I wouldn’t need to be malicious if you would just do your job!” her voice reverberated against the walls and back to them.
The woman sitting at the head of the table cleared her throat before addressing the nun who had gotten out of line, “Do not point fingers, let alone yell in the House of God, sister.”
The nun sat back in her seat while crossing her arms. She had never encountered a vampire before and she wasn’t trying to now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she stiffened. She felt powerful energy that she wasn’t able to identify.
“Hello~” Jimin stood not too far away from the table but far enough to where no one could touch him before he could move. “Let’s negotiate.”
↬ ↬ ↬
It’s been a week since you’ve arrived at the church. You haven’t seen the pastor since that awkward dinner in the hall. Maybe he realized you couldn’t be helped and decided to move onto the next person. Who would help you right? You’re just a nobody who has parents that hate you. That’s normal...it’s all you’ve ever known. You sighed as you hung up the last piece of clothing on one of the lines. Not wanting to spend all day at the church again, you decided to take the book you finished back to the store. Hopefully, the nice employee was working today.
You went back to your temporary room to grab the book before you made your way to the exit of the building. On your way to the exit, it seemed like all the nuns and pastors you’ve passed we’re trying to distract you. First, a nun had asked for help with cleaning the rooftops, which sounded like a pointless job that would take all day. So you politely declined but when she insisted you told her you can help after you take the book back to the store. Then, a pastor had asked how you’ve been feeling and if you’re comfortable in your room. Saying yes to both and walking at the same time, you were able to get out of that conversation fairly quickly. And as you placed your hand on the door, two more nuns were asking you questions about you and where were going. Thankfully, another nun held their attention while you slipped through the crack in the doors.
You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the bookstore. It felt nice to get out of there, at least for a little while. The weather seemed windy today and the clouds were slowly becoming a dark grey. Hopefully, a storm will come by. That’s always when you slept the best no matter where you slept. You were never able to sleep well, but on nights where you could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning, it lulled you to sleep, unlike any stories or songs.
Your mind suddenly went to him. Does he like storms? You stopped walking for a second, realizing your mistake. How could you think of him like that? Your cheeks get warm before you start walking again to try and forget about him and focus on getting another book.
Who cares if he likes storms? Certainly not you, he means nothing to you...do you mean nothing to him? You sighed as you weren't able to stop wondering about the handsome man that captured you months ago. It kind of made you sad that he hasn't come to find you yet. Your thoughts had you passing the bookstore before the employee from before calls out to you, “Hey!”
You snapped your head up and looked around before your eyes landed on the person who called out to you. Looking around again, you realized you had walked by the store without noticing. Your cheeks turned red before you made your back to the store where the worker waited for you with a smile.
“I think I have one you might like,” he motioned for you to follow him to the desk. He told you to set the book in your hands on the cart to the right and slid a different one on the desk.
It read Between the Spark and the Burn, the sequel to the book you had just returned. “I didn't see this the last time I was here,” you carefully picked up the book and held it in your hand by your side.
“I noticed the book you chose so I requested it from the next town over for when you finished the first one,” he sat down on the wooden stool that was rickety and old.
“Thank you,” you said quietly while keeping your gaze anywhere but him.
It’s been a while since someone did something nice for you. You're usually the one doing things for other people. You could see him smiling in the corner of your, making you realize that you were also smiling. Your cheeks were beginning to hurt so you decided to introduce yourself, “My name’s Y/n.” Hopefully, that was the right way to begin this conversation.
“Taehyung, a pleasure,” his smile grew before he covered it with his hand.
You nodded before reluctantly walking towards the door. Just as it closed behind you Taehyung was met with somebody standing next to him. He casually looked to see who it was only to find his best friend.
“Jimin~ it's been so long since you visited!” he stood up to give Jimin a hug and Jimin reciprocated. “What brings you here?”
“Turns out, you were just flirting with the girl I was talking about,” Jimin sighed as he straightened his posture to not look as short compared to his friend.
Taehyung’s eyebrows shot and pointed his thumb towards the door where you just exited. Jimin nodded before pinning him to the wall, “And you're gonna help me get her back.”
⤐ ⤐ ⤐
“Y/n!” your name echoed throughout the spacious corridor. You turned around to see the priest waving to you while jogging to catch up to you.
...you don't remember ever telling him your name. You began to panic so you quickly made your way outside and into the garden to hide behind the large rose bushes.
You heard him calling for you but stayed behind the bushes and went deeper into the rows and rows of red and white roses. You let out a sigh before sitting on the ground more comfortably.
“Blood bag, how come you haven't come home yet?”
Your whole body stiffened, but surprisingly relaxed. But now wasn't the time to question your muscles. You looked up to see the man who you thought you wouldn't have to see again.
“I've missed you, ya know,” he crouched down so his piercing eyes could be level with yours. It reminded you of the first time you met, back in the warehouse.
You remained quiet and averted your gaze to a wilting rose at the bush behind him. What were you supposed to say to him anyway? Did you miss him too? Of course, you did, he has given you more attention than anyone in your life. Up until you had spoken to Taehyung a couple of days ago.
“Blood Bag, it’s rude to ignore me,” he cupped your face with his hands decorated with silver rings.
“You ignored me for days at a time but that doesn’t matter, does it?” your anger got the best of you, making you regret even opening your mouth. You watched as his eyes widened slightly before he smirked.
“It does matter because I was doing something very important in that office.”
“Of course, what would be more important than using me as food whenever you felt like it.”
You saw his eyebrow twitch at your smartass comment. You didn’t know what had gotten over you at that time. You were usually the pushover but it seems that something about this vampire made you want to talk back. Maybe it was the smirk on his ethereal features or maybe it was just you trying to deny your feelings for him.
“I’m gonna let that slide since there’s something else I need to talk to you about,” you stood up before you had to hear any more of this unnecessary conversation. Before you were able to take a step, you were brought back to the ground. Your back hit the hard dirt making you wince. Jimin sat on your waist with each knee on either side of you. “You have recently met a very good friend of mine without even noticing what he was. I’m afraid he wants to take you as his. So I was nice enough to come here and warn you about him. But it seems you don’t want my protection…”
He trailed off waiting for you to start begging for him to help you but it never came. His smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed. Why were you not groveling? Were you not afraid? That’s not it, he can smell the delicious fear coming off of you.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m leaving by the end of next week,” you lied hoping he wouldn’t catch it.
Jimin stared at you for a second before getting off of you. But not before giving you a quick peck to the lips. Your face burned as you looked up at the grinning blood-sucker of a man. It most definitely gave Jimin an ego boost to see you so affected by his action.
“See you later, Blood Bag,” he waved before disappearing around the corner. What you didn’t see is that Jimin had to stop after turning the corner. He held his hand over the left side of his chest. It hurt. His chest was in pain. Like his heart was beating once again. The cold skin of his cheeks flushed while he felt like his lungs were actually working. If this was what it felt like just to kiss you, imagine what it would feel like to...Jimin had to stop himself. No need to let his mind go too far until you’ve fallen for him. And he was confident you would.
You finally willed your legs to get up and move to hurry to your room. You stopped when you passed an opening leading to the street in front of the church. You didn’t want to give Jimin or the priest time to find you again, so you made your way back to the bookstore.
When you got there you opened the door and your eyes instantly landed on Taehyung...and his bruised cheek above a busted lip. You stopped in your tracks making Taehyung look at you.
“Done with the book already?” a smile stretched across his face making him mumble ‘ow’.
“What happened to you?”
“Just a little friendly brawl.”
“In fifteen minutes?”
“Lots can happen in fifteen minutes.”
You shook your read to get your thoughts focused, “I came here to ask you if there was a bus or a train that left the town today.”
“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure the next train outta here isn’t for another two days,” Taehyung lied without hesitation. The next train left today in thirty minutes and wouldn’t be back until next week. He didn’t want another beating from Jimin.
“Oh, well thanks. I’ll have the book back by then,” you nodded before heading back to the church. What were you supposed to do for the next two days?
Once you made it back to the church you headed straight to your room to find the priest sitting in the wooden chair. He told you to have a seat on your bed after you closed the door.
He cleared his throat, “So you obviously seem uncomfortable around me and I apologize for whatever I have done to make you feel that way.”
Your eyes were on the book in your hand before you quietly replied, “I just never remembered telling you my name so I panicked. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I should’ve been more careful,” he saw your confused expression before continuing. “I am no ordinary priest. I am a...protector of sorts. I protect people from supernatural creatures of all kinds.”
Your eyes looked into his, and his were telling you he knew about the vampire that had kept in his home. Of course, he knew, this made you breathe out a laugh, “So you know about him.”
“I do.”
“You know, I was able to walk out the front door of his house like it was nothing,” Claude’s eyebrows raised in shock. You nodded, “He was so deeply in his work while in his office, I was able to walk out of there. But now he knows I’m here and I need to find a way out of here.”
“I can help with that. The train that transports out of town leaves in twenty minutes. I can get you there along with a ticket straight back home. If that is what you wish.”
It only took you a few seconds to register his offer and you quickly nodded and followed him out the door. All while leaving the book from Taehyung on the bed.
“What’s your name?” you asked while trying to keep up with the man that has been trying to help you for the past week and a half.
“Claude.”
He looked around the corridor before muttering the Latin mantra for the hidden door to open. Claude had to come back up a few stairs to grab your wrist to lead you down the stairs. You had unknowingly frozen in place after seeing the wall slide open to a set of stairs.
“Do all churches have a basement like this?”
“Not all, we’re one of the few that do.”
“So cool,” you whispered as you skimmed all the symbols and words that were engraved into the walls.
“There’s a tunnel that leads straight to the station. We don’t want you to miss the train, the next one won’t be here for another week,” Claude explained all while hurriedly walking down the tunnel.
You didn’t want to think about how Taehyung lied to you and how you didn’t realize that he was the friend Jimin was referring to. Just then, passed the room where you could see people sitting around a large dark wood table.
“Are we not going to talk about how you guys have a literal l a i r down here?”
“Nope.”
“Alrighty.”
Claude had led you up a flight of stairs that lead to the back of a building. You couldn’t tell what kind it was until the two of you walked up the side to the front. The large sign read Train Station. There were many benches set out but only two other people were waiting to get on the train. Claude had just realized he still had a grip on your hand but luckily you didn’t seem to mind as you read all the signs telling you the train’s schedule.
Claude paid for your ticket to Seoul before having you sit down on a bench close to the entrance gate. He looked around to make sure Jimin was nowhere in sight. Then he would glance back at you to make sure you were still there. The loud whistle of the train made it to your ears before you stood up and watched as it slowed to a stop.
“I have nowhere to stay up there,” you paused in front of the bench and started at the open door showing a few metal stairs.
“You do,” he brought a piece of paper from his pants pocket and gently set it in your hand. He nodded towards the train, motioning for you to get on before it leaves.
You thank him before boarding the locomotive and taking a seat in the designated section. Your seat was on the side of the station. Looking out to see Claude waving and smiling at you through the window. No one else was around him, nobody had gotten off and the few people that were waiting were already boarded. You waved back before your blood ran cold.
Claude’s neck was snapped right before your very eyes. His now lifeless body fell to the ground, in what felt like slow motion. The one person that had been helping you from the kindness of his heart, lied on the floor, dead.
Through your teary eyes, you saw it was Taehyung. His face showed no emotion, not even as he stared into your sorrowful eyes. As you went to stand, the train began to move and when you looked back to where Taehyung was standing, he was gone.
🩸🩸🩸
You rushed off of the train and hurriedly went to find whatever stood at the address Claude had given to you. Your head constantly went from side to side, causing a headache to form. But you didn't want the pounding of your brain against your skull to be the reason you were caught.
Finally, you ended up at the place where you met Jimin. The warehouse still appeared worn down and abandoned. Nothing had changed since you last saw it, except for the door. The door used to be blocked by wooden planks but now, it was a sleek and elegant carved piece of wood. There laid a door knocker that looked to be recently polished, in the shape of a cross.
You hesitated in reaching for the knocker and just as your fingers touched the cool metal, Taehyung interrupted. You spun around to see him even more beaten than the time before. When you went to knock again the door was gone, and the old wooden beams replaced them. You froze, that was going to be where Claude promised safety. Now you met with the thing that killed him. The thing you had considered your friend for only a short period of time.
“I didn't wanna hurt you like this, ya know. I really did want to be friends with you, and maybe even one day be more than that. Because you seem like a great person and-” he stopped talking once he noticed you had slipped through the wood and into the building. He sighed before following you in.
You wondered if there was even a point in trying to hide from him. He obviously wasn't human so he could track you down in seconds. Yet, you still went to hide in the room where you saw Jimin feeding on that stranger. And after months, her body was still there. Rotting and decaying. You gagged before exiting the room quickly.
Taehyung was right there, causing you to run into him. He held you close as you tried to pull away. He rolled his eyes as you struggled, irritated you wouldn't listen to his practiced speech all while running away. It was clear Jimin had no issue throwing punches towards his friend. Even though they were the same age physically, Jimin had been alive for much longer than he had.
You attempted to pull all your weight back as Taehyung dragged you down the stairs and to the entrance. Suddenly, you went flying back onto your ass as Taehyung’s grip left your arm. Your gaze landed on Jimin wrestling with Taehyung on the concrete floor. You looked around to find another door but there wasn't one that you could see. You didn't want to wander the building and get lost, but you also didn't want to wait for the two supernatural beings to be done with their fight.
You let out a shaky breath after realizing you're going to have to sneak past and get to the entrance. Your legs trembled as you slowly made your way around the two that were yelling at each other. Threats and fists, along with knees, we're thrown back and forth. When you got to the entrance you heard a sickening thud. It wasn't someone falling on the ground or one being thrown. No, the thud had an underlying crack to it. Turning around, you saw dark crimson ooze from Taehyung’s skull.
He was face down, making the sight easier for you to stomach. If you were able to see the look on his face and the emptiness of his eyes, you wouldn't be able to sleep again.
Jimin picked you up by your biceps, making sure you were as close to him as possible. He rested his forehead against yours. He bit his and leaned in for a kiss. Jimin kissed you over and over again until every inch of your face had met the touch of his pillowy lips. lip
“So tell me, Blood Bag, are you ready to spend an eternity with me?”
276 notes · View notes
kireii-writes · 4 years ago
Note
Can I request yandere Tomura stalking his obsession?
I’m your biggest fan
-
a/n: this has got to be the longest shigaraki fic i’ve written. which really surprises me since shigaraki isn’t really my type.
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warning(s): stalking, yandere tendencies, mentions of drugging, slight cursing, a tad too long
-
It started out with an innocent cup of coffee.
Then, it was the constant request for you to serve him.
Afterwards came the personal questions asked as you sat across him at the usual table he would park himself at after your shifts.
Next came multiple coincidences of running into him when you least expect it.
Of course, you were too naive and innocent to see through his intentions. That’s why he chose you.
At first, Shigaraki had entered the cafe you worked at in hopes of finding a hostage to threaten the pro-heroes, under the pretense of just causally dropping in, like many other customers do.
When he opened the door to the homely cafe, you were the one that greeted him with the warm and kind smile you’ve always had on your face. At first Shigaraki thought nothing of you, until you walked up to him to take his order.
“Good afternoon, sir. May I take your order?” You grinned at the light blue haired male sitting at the small table furtherest away from everyone.
There it was again- that same smile that you gave him when he first entered the cafe.
“Just a coffee.” The male replied gruffly as he pulled the hood of his jacket further down his face.
“We have many types of coffee, sir. Which one are you interested in?” The smile was still plastered on your face as you stood there, waiting for his reply. “We have different types of lattes, mochas and espressos. May I also interest you in the different cakes and breads we have?”
“Whatever, just get me anything.” Shigaraki replied impatiently. “I don’t know what to get, surprise me.”
Upon hearing his reply, you were slightly taken aback by surprise. Sure, you’ve dealt with many customers who were picky, but never one who was uninterested in picking out an order.
“Very well then,” You clicked your pen. “Do give me a moment.” Smiling at him, you turned your back towards Shigaraki and made your way to the counter.
~~~
“Here is your coffee, sir.” Your voice caught Shigaraki’s attention as he turned his attention away from the window. “Do enjoy.”
“What is this?” The male asked as he took a whiff of the aromatic scent of the coffee in front of him.
“Matcha latte.” You smiled. “Our store’s speciality.” Seeing no reaction from the man in front of you as he continues surveying the coffee in front of him, you figured a little background information wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially him.
“Did you know? The matcha latte is our specialty because it-“
“I don’t care.” Shigaraki spoke up with such brusqueness that you immediately stopped talking. “What’s your name.” He asked or rather, demanded.
“Y/n. My name is y/n.” You replied quickly, as if eager to please him when in reality, you were just afraid he might pick on you and cause the manager to come out. There’s no knowing if you’ll get to keep your job if that happens.
“Y/n....” Shigaraki hummed as he drummed his fingers on the smooth table absentmindedly. “That’s a nice name.” He muttered. If you hadn’t been paying close attention, you would have brushed it off. Instead, a blush slowly crept onto your face at his words.
“When are you done with work? I want to get to know you more.”
Checking the clock on the wall, your face lit up with the prospect of pleasing a customer. “Five more minutes.” You informed him.
“Then come back in 5 minutes.” The red eyed man replied, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze avoided you.
He was like a little kid, you thought.
“See you in 5 minutes then.” You chirped happily at the prospect of making a new friend.
“Oh and,” You turned back to face the man that was looking at your retreating form.
“What’s your name?”
“...”
“Shigaraki Tomura.”
~~~
Ever since then, you’ve hung out with Tomura every time your shift ends. Without fail, he would be waiting quietly at the same table the both of you first met, until you were ready to approach him.
Sometimes it was just hanging out at the cafe after work, catching up on anything and everything. Other times the both of you would walk through the town without a destination in mind as Tomura listened to you talk about your day.
It’s been three months.
Three months since you’ve met Tomura, and you’ve never once asked him what he does for a living. And he doesn’t tell you anything about himself either.
And then one day, he didn’t drop by the cafe as usual. You thought it was strange, but for all you know he could be busy.
As the last customer made their way out of the cafe, you started to clean up when your co-worker took on the job of closing the store, allowing you to leave earlier than planned.
Even though you left earlier, it was close to midnight when you alighted from the train. By now, there were not many people in the station.
Wrapping your coat around yourself, you hastily walked towards the direction of your home. There has been news of dangerous people lurking around the neighbourhood, and you wouldn’t want to risk bumping into them.
Although close to the station, the neighborhood you lived it was a rather old one. Dim streetlights lit the way home, but they were so dim that it didn’t help much. Often you would hear of rowdy people laughing as they drink themselves drunk in the dead of the night, causing a ruckus to the people living close by.
Picking up your pace, you avoided all eye contact and strained your ears to hear for any footsteps apart from yours as you took a turn into the neighborhood. You thought it was stupid to be so anxious about it, but you wouldn’t want to end up dead in an alley the next day because of one mistake.
But still, you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling of someone or something watching you from the shadows. Turning back ever so frequently, you would scan the surrounding for any signs of a stalker. Every now and then, you could feel someone or something watching you as you walked hastily towards your home. And your suspicions were confirmed when a group of men emerged from the dark, menacing looks plastered on their faces.
“Hey little thing,” One of them drawled as he made his way towards you, the smell of liquor hanging onto his clothes and skin. “Where are you going? Let me take you there.” He hiccuped.
You tried to walk past him, but his drunkard friends surrounded you in a circle, preventing you from escaping.
“Are you deaf?” Another man demanded impatiently. “He asked you where you’re going. Are you gonna ignore him? You know what happens to stupid people like you who don’t answer big bro?” the man on your right snarled at you.
You could’ve just run through them, but fear overtook your body, your legs frozen in place. You whole body shook in trepidation. Is this how you’re going to die?
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that the men were now closing in on you. They were the kind of people that the neighborhood police have warned the people living close by about. They’ve been trying to nab these guys, but were unable to because they would evade the police and seem to have a hiding spot that nobody knows about.
A surprised yelp left your lips as you were being pulled by the collar from behind, your legs desperately trying to regain stability.
“Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.” You begged as a last resort. In response, you were roughly pushed to your knees as “big bro” stood in front of your trembling form, his hands undoing his belt.
“Stupid bitches like you should just shut up and do as you’re told.” He slurred.
By now, the feeling of someone else watching you apart from the men who’ve cornered you were the least of your concerns.
“No! Please!” Tears were running down your face in fear of your situation as two men from behind tore your coat away and roughly pinned you down.
A stinging slap to your face was all you got in response.
“Better open your mouth nice and wide.” The supposed leader hiccuped, his face flushed red from the liquor he has downed.
While you struggled against your captors and begged for your life, you thought it was over as the man grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open.
As the sight of him drew closer to you, tears wouldn’t stop leaking from your eyes. Maybe, if you closed your eyes it would be better. Not like it would help you get out of this situation you’re currently in.
But when the grip on your jaw loosened, you opened your teary eyes to see that the man had completely disappeared. And in his place was a pile of ash and dust.
“He should’ve gotten his filthy hands off what belongs to me.” A familiar voice reached your ears.
“T-Tomura?” You looked up through blurry eyes to see the oh so familiar face staring at the pile of ash with contempt.
Instantly, the rest of the men who’ve had you cornered released you and stumbled backwards as if they had seen a ghost, a look of fear flashing before their faces.
“Oi, are the both of you going to come out or do I have to finish this myself? If that’s the case, what’s the point of bringing you guys along?” Tomura said to no one in particular as he scratched the back of his neck.
“What’s the rush?” A second voice replied as a man with scars on his face and hands emerged from the shadows. “We have all the time in the world.” The man smirked at your assaulters as he ran a scarred hand through his thick, black hair. “And also, I didn’t join you so I could save some damsel in distress, Shigaraki.”
“Dabi’s right, you know. I just wanted to see for myself how y/n looked like, not come and play hero. We should leave that to the real heroes.” A blonde haired girl giggled, knife in hand. “But I can see why y/n’s got your interest. I guess you following her around for 3 months really did pay off.”
“Are you going to help me get rid of these good for nothings or am I going to have to disintegrate you for talking too much, Toga?” Tomura questioned the girl named Toga.
“Well,” She started. “There’s new blood, so I guess i’ll help out then!” Toga bounced up and down gleefully.
As the remaining of your captors tried to run away, Toga leapt at the closest man and plunged her knife into his neck, all the while chanting “new blood, new blood” gleefully like a little kid.
“Dabi. You get the rest.” Tomura scratched his neck, a red spot emerging slowly but surely.
It was then when you felt warmth as blue light emitted from the the black haired male’s palm. Wait no, it wasn’t light.
It was blue flames.
Soon, the terrified screams of the men who’d attacked you died down in the flames, the nearby walls scorched and tainted black with the aftermath of the blue flames.
And there you were, clutching your coat that Tomura had picked up to your chest, trying to process what just happened.
Tomura just disintegrated someone, the girl called Toga was collecting the blood of her victim, and the man with blue flames was standing there, his hands now shoved into his jeans.
“Y/n.” Tomura spoke as he looked at you, who was still a trembling mess on the floor.
“H-how did you know I would be here? Who are these people? W-who are you?”
The night was still and quiet now apart from Toga’s quiet humming as she cleaned her knife, your questions hanging in the air unanswered.
“You k-killed someone.” You whispered, Tomura becoming a stranger in your eyes.
“...”
“Because he touched you. He touched what belongs to me.” Tomura replied, a hint of remorse nowhere to be found.
“Why don’t you just tell her that you’ve been watching her like the creep you are for the past few months already.” Dabi smirked.
“And who we are!” Toga piped up.
Silence greeted the four of you as Tomura stood there, staring at you intently.
“no... wait!” You cried out as you inched back from the once familiar figure in front of you. Now, he was someone else- a murderer who feels no remorse and not the Shigaraki Tomura that you knew. 
“So?” The blue hair man scratched his nape out of frustration. “I told you, it’s because they touched what is mine.” 
What’s his? Did he mean you? Since when did you belong to him. 
“H-how long have you been following me?” You questioned, hoping that he wouldn’t hear the fear in your shaky voice. You needed to stall as much time as possible while thinking of an escape route. But three against one? Only a miracle would allow you escape. 
“Long enough to know your daily routine.” The man name Dabi smirked, mockery lacing his words as Tomura stared down at you and said nothing. 
“Creep.” You couldn’t help but whisper under your breath. Your eyes were stinging and blurry with the tears that were threatening to spill over, but you didn’t dare to look away from Tomura out of fear that he might try something in the mere split second. 
“We’ll save the questions for later.” He finally spoke up. When you finally looked at him, a syringe was in his hands.
“For now, get some rest.” 
A soft gasp left your lips as the stinging feeling of needle pierced your skin, and drowsiness slowly overtook you, your body heavy like lead.
The last thing you saw was Tomura’s ruby red eyes looking down at you.
“I’ll protect you forever, y/n.”
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thewriterowl · 3 years ago
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For the numbered ask thing: bobadinluke, 38, 39, and 41?
38: Oh yeah, they're kinky. They do a lot of stuff in the bedroom. They sometimes switch around, but Luke is primarily the bottom and primarily the one in the middle. Din and Boba just aren't quite as in love with one another as they are with Luke. Their biggest kinks are each other lol really though, Luke does something cute or feral or strong and the Mandos have to drag him to the nearest private corner. But i think the Mandos do love tying Luke up and sort of controlling him. He's such a firecracker and is just always doing dangerous things that there is almost a comfort to do that. Massive daddy-kink, breeding kink, praise kink, and possessive kink for them. Boba and Din also probably love throne sex.
I don't think they really are into role-play of like "i'm gonna pretend to be this pirate" thing. If Din and Boba are feisty, they will play "chase" and tell Luke he has like a three hour head start. The longer he manages to hide from them, the more he is rewarded (they also see it as good training to keep him safe) so they may really get lost in the hunt and call Luke their quarry or prey.
Neither Mandos are big on the idea of pain-play. They all have had enough pain in their life. A bite here, rough-housing there, Luke falling cause they had to tackle him or wrap him in their metallic rope during a chase is one thing...but actually hurting is not really something they want to do.
39: I think Luke and Din are a bit shy so Boba was the one that initiated it. Din was the one who said they should just be together. And Luke probably gave the first kiss. Maybe after a battle or he was just so happy things were going ok or he wanted to comfort one of them...he probably kissed them both first. I think they all fell hard pretty fast. Luke was the first to realize it. He's very self aware and has to be very involved with his feelings and thoughts. He probably confessed first too. Surprisingly, Din was second to realize but he didn't act on it. Boba took the longest to realize.
41: Boba back in his thirties was. Now in his early forties and living through what he went through, he's just meh about it. But he likes it far more than the other two. He still wants to use Jabba's palace to its full potential and will hold stuff on occasion (gives him an excuse to get some more liquor). Luke has not attended many parties. He doesn't really know what to do at them. But he likes people watching and listening in on gossip and stories. Din hates them. Straight out. No parties. Neither Boba or Din really drink in public. They don't trust people enough to do that. They'll drink like they're at a party when alone tho. Luke drinks at parties. And then drinks afterwards. He's from Tatooine. The guy holds his alcohol like a champ.
When Luke does meet his limit he is just a sleepy drunk. He's just dozing off. His hangovers only make him, still, tired. He just needs some water, aspirin, maybe some bread, and a day's worth of sleep and he's good.
Din is a very clingy drunk. He is all over Luke when he's hit the bottle. He is holding him, caressing him, slurring out adorations and pet names, carrying on a possible one-sided conversation cause Luke is asleep, and just needs to hold him. He deals with the worst headache afterwards that lasts for the rest of the following day and sometimes leaves him dizzy and sick.
Boba is a loud drunk He is telling wild stories, looking for attention, and basically screams when he talks. He is ready to fight anyone. He is also the one most likely to fall head first into a bush or keep walking into the same door cause he just can't get his vision and mind right. He probably pukes three times, needs a nap, but is then good without a hangover by 10am the next morning.
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halfway-happyyy · 4 years ago
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The Autumn Cottage
Happy Saturday friends! Autumn has arrived in full force where I live and I couldn’t be happier about it. To celebrate, I have written a sappy, smutty piece inspired by the current weather and this ask that I received: Can u give us a oneshot about a snuggle fuck w alex in a cozy cottage in the fall?
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One of the greater joys in her life had to have been waking up to autumn's fickle fingers trying to desperately to reach her from the comfort of her woolen blanket. She watched, sleepy and bleary-eyed as leaves in shades of crimson and burnt umber drifted past her window in no particular direction. Her fingers roamed over the left side of the bed in search of him. Alexander's silhouette was barely visible through the indigo morning light, though she could make out the prominent line of his nose, and the slight curve of his bottom lip. Unmistakable in the minimal glow of dawn was the familiar glitter in his eyes, the glint that said so much about him and then nothing at all in equal measure.
“Good morning.” She whispered, and even that felt like too mighty of a disturbance in the stillness of their bedroom in the cottage. Though if he minded, he never let it show.
“Good morning yourself, kid.”
She reached the tip of a finger towards him wordlessly and brushed a feather-light touch down the bridge of his nose. Moving lower, she outlined his lips and grinned into the air before her as she felt him smile against her touch. She moved around his face with care, tried to memorize each delicate crease and wrinkle in her wake, tried to commit to memory the aspects that he resented about himself, even if she loved them beyond measure.
“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured as he brought the back her wrist to his lips, kissing the soft flesh there passionately. He brushed the pad of a calloused thumb over the rounded curve of her warmed cheek. “Like watching a flower bloom right before my very eyes.” They stayed like that for longer than either of them cared to admit; she could count on one hand in the past year that she had spent a weekend with him like this- alone and entirely undisturbed from anything and everything. He had broached the subject of a rented cottage in passing one morning a few weeks ago. It was one of those mornings where something had gone awry at every turn, and everything had been a blur. He had been late for something important, that much she could remember. He had rushed around the kitchen in a fury, muted Swedish curse words coloured every second sentence. He was out of breath when he reached the front door, weighed down by his leather laptop bag, but before he left, he turned to her and smiled. “Let’s get away together, kid.” She had taken it with a grain of salt until he returned home that evening, tired from a rather long shooting schedule, but in a fantastic mood all the same. “I mean it. It’s about to be a beautiful autumn. Let’s get away, just the two of us.”
“Shall I make you a coffee, or are we just going to lay in bed and stare at each other all day?” She offered him a cheeky smile and an exaggerated eye-wiggle which he simply laughed at.
“I have half a mind to choose the latter option, but I really do need some caffeine this morning.”
She nodded finitely and leaned in for a kiss, the innate push and pull of it caused a fire to ignite deep within her for him. She could easily spend the rest of her life doing this very thing; loving him fiercely and being loved back just as hard in return. “Alright,” She gasped as she pulled away from the allure of his hot, wet mouth. “Meet me in the kitchen.” She rose from the bed silently and padded over to her suitcase that was propped up on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She noticed Alexander’s cream Sherpa sweater hanging over the arm of it and she ran a fingertip over the unbelievably soft material.
Alexander must have been watching her because when he spoke, his voice still gravelly from recent sleep, he startled her. “I’d be happy if you wore that, today.”
“You would?” She had been eyeing it ever since he’d brought it home from a shoot a month ago. She longed to wrap it around her frame, the sheer feeling of it luxe and utterly comforting on her bare skin. Especially as the months would inevitably grow colder.
“Watching you wear my clothing does something for me, kid. I love seeing how happy it makes you.”
With a small smile, she lifted the sweater over her head and let it fall into place on her body, the hem of it falling just above her knee. She pulled her hair from the confines of it and let it fall in waves down her back. “How do I look?” She asked.
“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured.
Satisfied with his answer, she made her way down the hardwood-floored hallway to the kitchen. She had thought at first that the silence of the cottage would be too loud; that city life had turned her into a creature who thought she craved noise on a near-constant level. But to her pleasant surprise, it had taken less than twenty-four hours to grow accustomed to it, and she knew now that she would miss it dearly when it was their time to go home. Eliciting a yawn, she stood on tiptoes and tried to remember which cupboard Alexander had hidden the coffee beans. Without warning, a large hand reached up above her head with ease and produced the bag for her with a sly smile. “I’d have found them eventually…” She muttered.
“Oh, I have no doubt of that. But- would you have been able to reach them?”
She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Cheeky, vertically-adept bastard.”
They made their coffee together in silence. It had been one of the many things that drew him to her in the beginning. Where conversation seemed forced with every prospective partner and lover in the past- everything flowed the way it was supposed to with Alexander. There had never been a need to fill the quiet with empty words and small talk. It was a wonderful change of pace. “You hungry yet, kid?”
She remembered the basket of farm-fresh eggs in the fridge, thought of the loaf of homemade bread next to the coffee machine and her mouth watered tantalizingly. “I could definitely eat.” She watched him move around the kitchen with ease; watched the way his worn sweatpants hung low from the edges of his hips. She watched the way his muscles flexed in the light pouring in through the stained-glass window above the sink. She had always been struck silly by the beauty that this man possessed; but the notion that his soul bested his looks would never cease to leave her in utter awe. “What have you got on the go today?” She asked, a fork full of fluffy scrambled eggs rested in her hand.
Alexander passed a napkin over his lips, swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and shrugged. “Thought I might chop some wood for a fire tonight.”
She could hardly contemplate it now; the thought of watching her man hulk through multiple logs of wood caused her to physically clench her thighs together. “You plan on doing that soon?”
“After breakfast.” He confirmed.
True to his word, after the last dish had been washed and dried and properly put away, he stalked over to the coat hook in the front foyer and threw a sweater over his naked chest. Turning to her, he eyed her up and down and cocked his head to the side; a small smirk pulled at the edges of his lips. “Care to keep me company?”
Reaching for a blanket and the book that she had started yesterday morning, she nodded her head. “Lead the way.”
It was warmer outside than she had originally anticipated, though the autumn wind had picked up a little more voraciously, and she marveled at the falling leaves the same way she had earlier that morning. The sky above her was cloudless and a bright azure blue and she found herself thanking a higher being for the blessings in which she had been given. Opening the book to the page she had last left off on, the sound of an axe ripping through the middle of a log rang out through the clearing and she knew then that she would not be getting any further reading done this morning. Instead, she watched in awe as Alexander lifted the axe high above his head and brought it down with a force she had rarely seen before, the log splitting into two pieces and falling away from the stump. It was poetry in motion, really. Alexander’s hair was the longest she had ever seen it; the sandy blonde tresses were grown out and regularly fell over his eyes but she reveled in it. Of the many years that they had known each other, he had always kept a mostly clean-shaven face but quarantine, and the filming of a particularly brutal Viking revenge drama had rendered him more manlier and distinguished than she had ever thought possible. “You are fulfilling lumberjack fantasies for me that I never knew I had!” She called out to him.
Alexander tossed his head back, a hearty laughter bubbled up from the back of his throat and exited his mouth like music from a box. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself, kid. I see the way you look at me when I put on my old and holey plaid jacket.” He took a break from chopping wood to wipe the sweat from his brow. “To add to this- you also purchased me a very expensive axe a few years ago for my birthday.”
“Guilty,” She muttered under her breath.
“But rest assured I am elated that this-” He gestured to himself. “Does it for you.” 
The morning continued on in much the same fashion until maybe an hour or two later when Alexander joined her from her perch on the wrap-around porch. Falling into a bench opposite her, he took a few moments to try and regain his breath again. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his forehead and his broad chest heaved under the weight of recent physical duress. They each viewed each other with a hunger usually only attained after seeing one another for the first time in months. “Come here.” He ordered, softly. She rose from her spot without hesitation and sauntered over to where he sat. He pat the front of his thigh twice, a silent instruction for her to have a seat. She straddled his lap with ease and wrapped her arms around his neck; the heady scent of his perspiration and body wash made her lightheaded with want. It took every ounce of self-control not to grind shamelessly down on his steadily growing erection. As he held her tightly to him, his warm, broad hands rubbed reassuring circles into her back. She shivered into the touch as Alexander kissed his way up the side of her neck, his mouth leaving trails of fire in its wake. “You cold, kid?”
“No.”
He kissed his way up the base of her throat, past the jutting outline of her jaw, and finally to her lips. His mouth still tasted faintly of the maple syrup he had poured over his pancakes hours earlier and the urge to devour everything he had to give her was overwhelming. “You like me like this, don’t you?” He smirked. “All sweaty and dirty from working hard and chopping wood for us?”
“Yes.” Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as he continued kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. All the while his hands roamed greedily over her sweater-clad body, squeezing, and rubbing as they traversed.
“You want me to take you right here, baby girl?” His voice grew gravelly again, though it had nothing to do with sleep this time. “I don’t even have to touch you to know that you’re already soaked for me.” The wind had picked up again and had begun to blow her hair around her face, the cool breeze a welcome reprieve to her heated body. Alexander was fully erect now, his hard cock throbbed tantalizingly at her thigh. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and lifted the hem of the sweater to reveal her panties, and the wet patch that had grown steadily in the crotch of them. Alexander reached for her and slid two fingers past the flimsy material to her soaking folds. Immediately she leaned towards him to tuck her face into the crook of his neck, but he stopped her with a soft click of his tongue. “I want to see your face when you come for me, baby.” He brought a free hand up to caress her cheek, and as he held her, he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. She parted for him without thought and began to suckle softly at it as his other hand started to delve deeper inside of her. He had perfected a rhythm with her now; one that no matter how many times he had pleasured her, would always be the fastest way to get her unravelling for him.
“More,” She gasped when two fingers just wasn’t enough anymore. Alexander nodded wordlessly, his gaze searching her own. He added a third finger inside of her, the stretch of it almost too much to bear.
“So fucking wet for me, baby.” He groaned, as he began to pump harder into her. He could feel her clench around him, could feel the soft, wet button of pleasure at the tips of his fingers. She sucked harder at his thumb the closer she neared to her orgasm. “You’re going to come for me soon, I can tell…” He murmured as she started to ride his fingers. “And don’t you dare be quiet about it.” He warned.
These words had helped to spur the wave of pleasure building in her belly and she arched her back against his fingers, her nails digging miniscule crescent shapes into the soft skin of his shoulder blades. “Fucking hell, Alex…”
He nodded up at her. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, my queen. That’s a good girl. Come for me,” He then angled his fingers in such a way that he had her screaming his name into the wind before them, her voice raw with unbridled pleasure. She continued to ride his fingers until she came down from her high, dropping her head to rest in the warm comfort of his neck. She couldn’t be sure how long she had taken solace there, but he eventually patted her bottom. “You came so good for me.” He pressed warm, wet kisses against her temple.
Taking his chin firmly in her grasp, she gazed at him. Unending vast oceans of blue peered back at her and took her breath away. “It’s your turn.” She crashed her lips against his again, the need to have him inside of her entirely all-consuming. He lifted her up in one fell swoop, standing tall from the bench as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling. He carried her into the warmth of the cottage, stumbling down the length of the hallway to their bedroom where he laid her as gently as he could manage, on the bed. He made impressively quick time of ridding himself of his clothing, and as he stood before her, naked and unbearably erect, she realized that she genuinely loved the man before her. It had occurred to her before that she felt this way, but she could honestly say that no matter what they would go through together, no matter the pain he would put her through in future, she loved him deeper than she had ever loved anyone before. “Come here,” She insisted.
Alexander crawled up the length of the bed, holding her head in his hands as he did so. He entered her all-consuming heat with a loud groan, the feeling of him stretching her to maximum fullness was incomparable to any pleasure she had experienced before. Having him inside of her was a comfort that she never knew she needed until it had happened. As he moved inside of her, his head dropped to her shoulder where he scattered dozens of open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. She held him tightly to her as he bucked his hips against her, his cock managing to hit all of the essential nerves each time he bottomed out. He was muttering nonsensical things now, random pieces of Swedish and English found her ears and she smiled into their embrace. She clenched around him after every other thrust, and soon his movements had grown sloppy. “Fuck,” He growled as her fingernails raked through the soft, firm skin of his broad back.
“You feel so fucking good, Alex.” She gasped against his bearded cheek.
He cried out as his hips stilled against her own and she could feel the familiar throb of his cock as he spilled everything he had to give, inside of her. He allowed himself a few more powerless thrusts, and another low whimper before he pulled out of her completely. She found his sudden absence almost painful. They remained like that for an unknowable amount of time, each just trying to catch the breath that they had lost a while ago. Eventually Alexander turned on his side to view her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “I love you, kid.”
A crimson leaf lay next to his head on the down pillow, and she smiled softly to herself. “I love you too, Alex.”
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jwillowwolf · 3 years ago
Text
Magic and Miracles - Prologue
Tag List: @sandersidesbigbang @thomassanderssidesbigbang2021 @theimprobabledreamersworld
First Chapter > | Masterlist
This is a multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the last couple of months as a part of the 2021 Sanders Sides Big Bang. The original idea came from this post by @remy-please-come-back [thanks again for letting me use the idea 💜].
Summary: Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings. The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone. It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone. Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained. In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind. In the veins of all creatures, including humankind. For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.
For the longest time, Logan wanted to learn magic. So, when he was offered the chance to study it at a new magic school, he decided to follow his dreams. Along the way, however, he'll learn about so much more.
Warning/s: food mention.
Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs.
Read on AO3
0 | The Underdog's Debut
Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings.
The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone.
It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone.
Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained.
In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind.
In the veins of all creatures, including humankind.
For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.
Perhaps this was why people found it so intriguing from such a young age. They wanted answers to what magic was, and while they didn’t find what they sought, they did learn how it could be used to their advantage. Spells were created to do anything that their caster’s heart desired. From creating a small orb of light for reading in the night to manipulating a tidal wave that could crash down on your enemies.
Magic was something not easily understood, which was one reason why the Council of Wizards evaluated all potential magic users. They wanted to gage that these young mages could safely use the power they were wielding. If not, then they needed to be properly dealt with before things got out of hand.
This was a good thing, but also not because to learn magic safely you would need someone else to teach you first-hand.
Now that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle, except the only established wizards were of the nobility, and therefore only worked with nobility. The system was pretty much rigged to make it hopeless for average people to learn and use magic. Or it was until our protagonist came along.
He rose from poverty to royalty, became a hero among heroes, and faced off against one of the greatest threats to humankind that ever existed! But I’m getting ahead of myself -sorry- let's start from the beginning, shall we?
Oh, but where to begin? Ah! We’ll start from his first test with the Council of Wizards when he was only a young lad of 15. It was the beginning of spring, which is when the COW always held the learner’s test. This test evaluated your magical potential and gave the council a heads up on how many new mages there were. Yes, COW, don’t ask me why they went with that acronym.
The ceremony was being held in the grand hall of the palace, and it was open for anyone from the Srednas Kingdom to come and watch. The test itself was rather simple but the festivities that came with it made things feel like a special holiday. Nobility and common folk alike were gathered to watch and see what new wizards would be taking on learning magic. There was even a small market of sorts set outside the palace to take advantage of the crowds and sell foods, drinks, and commemorative merchandise.
Inside, people were everywhere, talking excitedly to one another and trying to find good places to view the proceedings. At the end of the room, there was a dais with two thrones where King Thomas and his husband, Prince Consort Nico, sat to watch. In front of the dais were nine chairs for the COW members, who talked with the royals and amongst themselves. Even they seemed eager for what was about to happen, and yet no one knew truly how monumental today was going to be.
The event had begun the same as any other year. Noble children from across the land showed off whatever three spells they’d learnt for the test. Most were common tricks like lighting candles or making plants grow. A handful showed off with advanced versions of these spells, such as holding the flames in their hands or making entire trees grow. Still, regardless of how many times these spells were cast, the crowd watched in awe with each new user who passed their test.
And then a young man in a simple navy tunic and black trousers stepped forward. He looked to be in his mid-teens, the same as most of the young mages and walked with an air of subtle confidence. He had a slender form and soft features that pronounced his youthful appearance. His hair was raven black, swept neatly to the side, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed almost black.
“Please state your name and title.” Silvia, the eldest council member, said.
“My name is Logan Picani.”
“Title?”
“I don’t have any.”
Silence fell over the hall. “Pardon?”
“I don’t have any titles.”
“How do you not have any titles?”
“I’m not a noble.”
Some people audibly gasped and began whispering conspiratorially to one another.
“Young man, you do understand what this test is, correct?” Allen, another council member, asked with a thinly veiled look of disgust.
“Yes sir, I do. I also know for a fact that there are no rules against my taking the test because of being a commoner.”
Allen frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Silvia. “I suppose not. Well then, let’s see what you can do.”
Logan took a deep breath and then held up his hand, “Ignyght.”
The tip of his little finger began to glow with golden light. The crowd watched on in silence as he carefully moved his hand to draw the necessary rune with the trail of light that flowed from his finger.
Once the rune was complete, he spoke again. “Solhart.”
The rune turned stark white and then disappeared. For a moment nothing happened, then a small white orb appeared where the rune had previously been floating. This earned a few excited claps from the crowd and an approving nod from two council members. But Logan didn’t stop there.
“Groh.” This time the light from his fingers was bright green. He made a different rune then repeated the sealing word, “Solhart.”
The orb multiplied until nearly fifty of them were floating in a cluster before Logan.
“Stahwynd.” A deep blue light flowed from Logan’s finger as he drew the final rune. “Solhart.”
The orbs burst apart from one another like birds flying off a tree in fear. Some people from the crowd shouted in shock as the balls of light zoomed off in all different directions until finally, they stopped. Now they were floating all around the room above the spectators who gasped as they realized what Logan had done. The hall’s ceiling was pitch black, so the lights looked like stars in the night sky. It was a breath-taking sight that inspired many to cheer and clap for the young mage.
“Alright, please settle down,” Silvia called over the noise before looking at Logan with a thoughtful expression. “Where did you learn this?”
“I taught myself.”
Silvia nodded then turned to talk with her fellow council members in hushed tones. Allen and two others seemed upset, while the rest of the council were neutral if not mildly impressed. After a few minutes, she looked back at Logan with a soft smile.
“Mr Picani, you are officially granted your learner’s license. I hope when we see you again in a few months time, you will once more surprise us all.”
The crowd cheered and Logan nodded before walking away with a look of pride. As he made his way through the crowd, he received congratulations from many strangers. And then he was tackled to the ground by an enthusiastic brown-haired girl.
“You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!”
“Everleigh, my ribs.” Logan wheezed, causing the girl to release him.
“Oops, sorry. My bad. Is your chest okay?”
“It’s fine.” Both youths got up with smiles on their faces. “I did it.”
“Yep. In a couple of months, you’re going to be an official grand wizard.”
“Considering I just got my learners, I don’t think I’ll reach such a title that quickly.”
“You just created a night sky in the palace ballroom! I think you’re underestimating yourself.”
Logan smiled softly, “Come on, we should head back to the bakery to celebrate.”
Everleigh nodded in agreement and linked their arms so they could walk side by side. As they walked, Everleigh excitedly told Logan about how incredible it had looked from the crowd, and what kind of reactions the people around her had had.
Logan was uncharacteristically grinning by the time they’d reached the bakery. Walking inside only made his smile widen as the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries filled his senses. It was after all the smell of home, so of course, it made him feel warm and welcomed. His father, Emile Picani, was standing by the counter helping an elderly customer when Logan and Everleigh walked in.
“Thank you, dear.”
“Oh, I should be the one thanking you, Mrs Goldstone. The brownie recipe you gave me has become a bestseller.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Have a nice day dear.”
“To you as well, ma’am. Oh, Logan, Everleigh, you’re back. And smiling,” Emile gasped, “did you get it?”
“He’s a wizard!” Everleigh dramatically announced.
“Not yet, I still need to finish the second test in a couple of months. I do have a learners’ license though.”
“Well, I think this calls for some celebratory tarts,” Emile said, ushering both youths into the back of the shop where the Picani’s sitting room/kitchen was located. “I’m proud of you logan. That hard work really paid off.”
“Speaking of hard work, you are going to take a break, right?” Everleigh asked.
Logan looked away from her sheepishly. “Well…”
“Come on, Lo. You’ve been working hard non-stop for months.”
“Yeah, kid, you work with me in the bakery all day, then study well into the night. And don’t think I haven’t seen you pull an all-nighter here and there.” Emile chastised.
It was true that Logan had worked long hard to get to where he was. it wasn’t exactly a simple task when books on magic were hard to find, and what knowledge they had was even harder to grasp. Figuring out pronunciation for the initiation/sealing words and learning to keep his hand steady as he drew the runes.
It had taken him many long nights of studying by candlelight to figure out the spells he’d performed. But with Everleigh’s library apprenticeship and his own persistent nature, he’d managed to learn a good deal about the basics. And now it was paying off. He officially had a learner’s license and would get a chance to become a genuine wizard.
Then he could use magic to help so many of the villagers who couldn’t afford the high-priced assistance of other magicians. Medicinal potions? Enchanted prosthetics? Transition spells? He would be able to give all this and more at prices his peers could afford.
Logan knew that what he was doing seemed near impossible, but he was going to do it or die trying! …okay, so maybe Emile and Everleigh were valid in their concern for his health, but this was his best and only way to study magic.
Before Logan could argue this, however, a stranger walked into the bakery. He was tall and slender, with a bronze tan and confident bearing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clean white tunic, black trousers, and dark brown riding boots. His short curly hair was the same dark brown shade as the boots, and his eyes were hidden by black tinted glasses.
“New customer, how do you how do?”
The stranger smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous. Sorry but I’m not a customer today. Is this where Logan Picani lives?”
“Yes, that’s my son.”
“Son? No offence honey but you look too young and handsome to be a dad.”
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Logan asked, taking over the conversation for his blushing father.
“Ah, yeah, I’m here to offer you a very special opportunity on behalf of the crown prince.”
Logan and Emile gaped. “The crown prince?”
The stranger nodded. “My name is Remy Animosni, and on behalf of his highness, I’m here to extend an exclusive invitation to the Srednas Magic School.”
Logan frowned. “I wasn’t aware that there was a magic school here in Srednas.”
“Well, that’s because there wasn’t, not until now anyway. It’s something that the prince arranged to start this year with a few students to show how good it could be to the council. You particularly caught his interest today with your starry spellcasting, hence the personal invite. You would learn alongside six other students under me about everything there is to know concerning magic, from the full basics of spells to how you can modify your own enchantments.”
“That sounds incredible,” Emile said.
Remy nodded. “Yep, and not only that but you will be given your own room at the school and anything you may need or want during your stay will be provided by us, free of charge. The location of the school is just an hour out of town, so you could visit home on weekends if you desired. So how about it, kid?”
Logan was gobsmacked. The crown prince had not only seen him but was impressed enough to send an invitation to learn magic at a special new magic school.
“Wait, what do I have to do for the prince in return?”
“Absolutely nothing. The offer is completely free of any fees or deceptive dealings. I promise. The prince even sent this with me to make sure you could have physical proof if so desired.” Remy stated, producing a scroll from inside his jacket.
Emile and Logan both looked over the document and found no problems. It was a straightforward invitation for Logan to study magic at the prince’s new school, with promises to provide anything he could need while he was living at said school, and nothing more. The father and son shared a thoughtful glance. It was definitely an opportunity.
Emile smiled. “Do it.”
“Really? You think I should accept?”
“A chance like this only comes around once, and I can always hire someone if I need the help. Follow your dreams kiddo.” Emile said with an encouraging smile.
Logan bit his lip as he considered things. He really hadn’t thought today could get any better, then this happened. He was worried about leaving his dad, but Emile had told him to take this chance. And he was right about this being a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides, Remy had said he could still visit the town on the weekends…
“Okay. I accept.”
---
A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask. [Also, here's a link to chapter 1]
I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜
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ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago
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ladybug. yandere!giorno x reader
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tw: emotional manipulation, humiliation
giorno is patient with you, but everything has limits. 
click here to check out my commissions! 
Sunlight has always felt nice on your skin.
Even when it’s obscured by glass windows, it brings a sense of comfort that’s unmatched by anything else. Compliment it by drinking any assortment of hot drinks, such as cappuccinos or espressos, and it makes your world feel whole. For hours at a time you could bask in it, eyes fluttering shut and soaking in blissful warmth. 
The breakfast room you sit in most mornings is surrounded by circle topped windows, deliberately placed on the east wing of Giorno’s villa to capture the morning sun. In the middle of the room sits a petite glass table, large enough to be accompanied by four birch wood seats. 
Every morning you come here, an assortment of pastries and berries are laid out to your liking. A rotating set of china accompanies them, differing in color depending on the seasons. As it’s currently winter, a pearly white set with sapphire designs are in use. With spring budding around the season, you’ll soon be met with your favorite set; one with sakura designs from Japan. 
All of these small details are pressed into your mind. Having sat in this room for breakfast too many times to count, you’ve come to know everything about it. From the seasonal fine china, to which chair allows the sun to kiss your skin the longest, to how the windows are kept under lock and key. 
You’ve tried that method already. 
Funny thing, that is. How an oceanic view gives the illusion of freedom, when looked at through monumental windows. By how the butler’s breath hitches when you run your fingers over the glass longingly, you can only imagine the strict regulations Giorno holds them to. It’s not like it’ll crumble underneath your delicate touch, even if you silently wish it would. 
The sight of waves crashing causes a sigh to leave your lips, knowing that you’ll have to be content to watch it from here for the time being. In your myriad of thoughts, you fail to notice a small ladybug settling itself onto your outstretched hand. Looking at it with a frown, you watch as it crawls from the back of your hand to your fingertips. 
It’s why you don’t flinch when soft footsteps approach you from behind, already knowing the omen the ladybug brought with it. Retracting your hand away from the window, you feel no desire to look back when you already know who’s there.
“I take it you like the view?” Even early in the morning, Giorno’s voice is composed and smooth. It demands to be listened to and respected, even if you have to admit that begrudgingly. He cherry picks his words with intention, a facade of domesticity mixed within them. 
“Why do you use,” you pause for a moment, ignoring Giorno’s rhetorical question to find the best term for his ability. “This… method, when I always come here in the morning. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.” 
At this, you finally decide to turn around and face him. Giorno stands in front of you with a relaxed disposition, having already waved off any staff that were nearby. It makes you grit your teeth, knowing the reason why. He’s here to keep an eye on you now, so there’s no need for them to. 
Not responding to the clear hostility in your voice, Giorno takes a seat close to where you’re standing. Each movement carries with it a sense of grace and control, not unusual to him. The sun just began to rise, and his normal purple suit is worn without a single wrinkle in sight. His golden hair set in place perfectly, deep eyes never weary from lack of sleep; even after long nights. 
Giorno reaches out for a chocolate filled pastry, taking a bite before offering a response. “You woke up earlier than usual.” 
The way he says it without returning your clear irritation only serves to disturb you more. No matter how much you try and upset him, Giorno never gives in. Each movement and word is calculated before your eyes, giving the illusion of a perfect, divine man. 
Frowning, your eyes flicker between the ladybug on your hand, and then back to Giorno. He continues to eat in silence, most likely not wanting to provoke you more than his presence already does. Continuing your quiet seething, you purse your lips. 
“I didn’t take you for my caretaker.” you bite back, eyes narrowing as he doesn’t so much as flinch at your venomous words. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he lightly dusts away any crumbs the pastry left on his lips. 
“I never said I was,” Giorno flashes you a sweet smile, one that promises more. “But I am your husband. The two are almost interchangeable in some regards, aren’t they?” 
The swift reminder only serves to further sour your mood. Typically he’s not the type to rub things in your face, but you know the reason why he mentioned his relation to you this time. Looking down at your bare ring finger, you find the red ladybug finished its previous scurrying. It now stays circling your lower ring finger, as if it had found its original goal. 
Before your very eyes it transforms into a familiar gold band, with a round brilliant diamond in the middle. Various other smaller diamonds line the areas next to it, always making you wonder the original price of such a ring. 
“So you noticed,” you respond dryly, eyeing the ring with faint disdain. “Why am I not surprised...” 
There isn’t much you can do to practically spite Giorno, but little things make you feel better. Even if it’s something small, like taking off your wedding ring, it brings a temporary solace. But every time you hide it somewhere, it always manages to return to you due to Giorno’s Stand. 
Placing the handkerchief back into his pocket, Giorno’s eyes flicker to the food you’ve left untouched on the table. He frowns for a brief second, before looking back to you.
“Come, sit and eat,” Giorno asks of you, motioning to the empty chair next to him. “You haven’t touched your food.” 
Considering your options, you look at the admittedly delicious assortment on the table. It pains you to give into anything Giorno tells you to do, but testing his patience is a tricky battle.
He’ll allow you to verbally retaliate against him most times, as long as you’re picky with your insults. Mentioning your adamant abhorrence towards him or your past life will earn varying degrees of punishments, ranging from solitude to threats towards your family. All said with a loving smile. 
Begrudgingly, you take your seat next to him and attempt to decide what to eat. This early in the morning your appetite isn’t fully there, and the uneasy feeling Giorno brings you doesn’t help. Upon noticing your hesitation, Giorno reaches for a blueberry scone. 
Delicately, he picks up a knife and spreads a generous amount of butter across the flaky top. The butter slowly begins to melt, Giorno seemingly content with the amount. You’re familiar with this little game, knowing that Giorno takes pleasure in preparing food for you that meets his standards. Once he’s done, you gingerly reach to take it from his hands.
Only to be met with a chastising noise, and teasing smile that makes your skin crawl with indignation. 
“If I can’t trust you to eat,” Giorno begins with a soft hum, causing you to knit your eyebrows. “I’ll take it upon myself to feed you.” 
Cheeks flushing, you take a moment to see if he’s joking with you. But as he holds the scone up a few inches from your lips, you realize he’s being dead serious. If anything, he seems to be amusing himself with your embarrassed expression. 
Would it be possible to smack the scone out of his hand? Something tells you that his reflexes might be better than yours, but a small part of you still wants to try your luck. Giorno subtly nudges the scone forth, prompting you to open your mouth for him. 
Humiliation settles in, as you slowly part your lips. Giorno’s eyes soften at your submission, placing the tip of the scone into your mouth. Taking a tentative bite, you’re met with an abundance of flavor. The bread almost melts in your mouth, hints of butter dancing on your taste buds before the tart blueberry follows suit. 
The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, and before you know it, you’ve finished eating the scone. You expect Giorno to pull his hand back, but he keeps it in front of your lips. Tilting your head at the inaction on his part, Giorno takes it as an opportunity to explain.
“I don’t wish to speak too highly of myself, however,” Giorno starts, his thumb reaching to rub circles on your soft lips. “I’ve been considerate of you, signora. Don’t I always meet your needs? Everything I do, I do it for you, my beloved.” 
He ceases his movements momentarily, making sure to hold eye contact with you. You hadn’t noticed it before, but Giorno had moved forward and is now closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, dizziness starting to settle in by his newfound closeness. 
The way his eyes are glazing over with an emotion unidentifiable makes you uncomfortable. But he continues his little speech, continuing to toy with your lips at his leisure. 
“And still you remain so adversarial towards me. It hurts me, it truly does. Even so, I’ve never been the type to quit when I have a hard goal in mind. I’ll have you love me, even if I have to pry it out from you.” 
“What are you--” 
Giorno takes the opportunity to place his middle and index finger into your mouth, making you let out a squeak in shock. He remains level with you, unblinking as a familiar cruelness is found in his tone.
“Would you be a dear and clean my fingers for me? I fear I got them dirty.” 
It takes every ounce of self control you have. Holding back every primal instinct to inflict pain on him by biting down, giving him a taste of your own suffering. But even with the immense temptation, you’re unable to bring yourself to do it. The consequences of such an action would undoubtedly outweigh any momentary satisfaction. 
Fluttering your eyelids shut to avoid his penetrating gaze, you lazily roll your tongue around his fingers. Tilting your head away from his general direction, you’re once again met with a dissatisfied response. 
“Look at me.” 
His tone leaves little room for argument. Opening your eyes once more, you shiver at the sheer intensity on Giorno’s face. It reminds you of how he looks when speaking to his Capos, how he adopts a persona unlike his normal polite self. Rarely does he ever inflict it on you, wanting to always charm you. 
At what feels like a humiliating eternity, Giorno removes his digits from your mouth. You bite your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying anything else you’ll regret, watching in feigned disinterest as he examines his cleaned fingers. 
Giorno drinks in your appearance, his eyes scanning over the different angles of your face. He always compliments your eyes the most, as unwanted as his advances are. You can’t deny that his own turquoise hues are uniquely beautiful, but never intend on letting him know that. From your staring you get the feeling he already knows.
“Obedience is becoming of you, cara.” 
The double edged compliment does little for you, only adding flames to the fire within. A sigh leaves Giorno’s lips at your lack of reaction, reaching out to gingerly sip on a mocha cappuccino. For the Don of a mafia group that controls all of Italy to be so fond of chocolate has always felt ironic to you.
Giorno sees you looking at his cup, and tilts it towards you. Understanding the invitation that signals, you shake your head. Returning to your original goal of looking out the window towards the ocean waves, you’re immensely grateful at the few seconds of silence that he grants you. Any reprieve is to be taken advantage of. 
In between sips, he finally begins to speak once more. “After some deliberation, a five day long vacation would be acceptable. Things have been settling down lately, and I’d still be on call at all times, but…”
He leans in close to you, placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll be able to spend more time with you. Do try and be good for me, will you?”
It’s phrased like a question, but is a command. He has a way of draining all the fight you have to offer from you, slowly and deliberately. In a complex web that he spins, trapping you even further when you struggle. Sighing while you accept your fate for now, all you can give is an uncomplicated answer. 
“--I’ll try.” 
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penguintransporter · 4 years ago
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Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) Part VIII
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Hello, everyone! It took me a while to post this, but fear not - I have another chapter edited and ready to update next weekend. I contemplated for the longest time if I should post continuation of the chapter VII or maybe write a flashback that is entirely in Héctor’s POV, and decided that some of his thoughts wouldn’t be bad - so consider this as a filler even if it’s an entire update. Enjoy, let me know what you think, and don’t shy away from my inbox. You can read the first seven chapters of the story - here - along with the rest of my stuff. Lots of love, and stay amazing as always!
There was rarely a moment in which the canteen of the Arsenal FC Training Centre didn’t feel like a mini circus of some sort.
Buzzing with noise at any given time of the day, the spacious and with the long tables packed room often hosted a diverse bunch of people of different backgrounds and nationalities, ages and paychecks, contracts and positions in the club – all of them taking a refuge from their daily routines. More than often, administration hermits, trying to escape their paper-stacked offices mingled with millions of pounds worth footballers who needed their fuel before or after their training sessions, and all the high-positioned officials in their suits were known to chat away their coffee breaks with the wonderful Simone behind the canteen till.
Still, on that Friday noon, as the world was waist-deep in the month of December, the entire room felt just a little bit quieter than usual. 
As he sat alone at one of the long tables, waiting for his teammates to join him for lunch, Héctor wondered if the certain quietness was caused by the miserable weather outside or just because the feeling of yet another year slipping away was weighing down on people’s minds – including his own.
With a shake of his head, Héctor scooped some of the food on his fork before setting down his knife on a plate in front of him, looking at the windows that span along the wall to his left – the abundance of greyness greeting him. One would think that after all the years since he’s moved to England and started calling London his home, he would have gotten used on the picture in front of his eyes, but he wasn’t, and he knew that he won’t ever be.
Looking away, Héctor pursed his lips as he lazily chewed on his mouthful before glancing at the time on his phone as he reached for his knife to scoop more food, but he couldn’t help but freeze in his movements – the familiar scent filling his nostrils.
Oranges?
Confused, Héctor swallowed before leaning back in his chair as he felt the air leaving his lungs.
It wasn’t as if the oranges were something he rarely had the chance to smell, but only a handful of times the particular scent could make him feel the way he did as he apprehensively breathed in – memories of his childhood breaking out on the surface of his mind.
Warm, hot late autumns. His hand firmly held by his grandmother’s as they walked along the less-known pueblos where the oranges on the trees, bent by the their own weight, were just a reach of a hand away.
Héctor let his eyes wander as discreetly as possible around the canteen, trying to find the source of the smell that brought back the picture of the little Belle and the sight of the oranges laying along the sides of the pathways – their sweetness and stickiness an invitation for a feast for all the ants and flies.
Skinny, little boy in a sailor-striped t-shirt; thin-soled tennis shoes slippery on the cobbled slope; smell of home-cooked paella in the air.
She.
The irritating girl from the reception sat at the end of one of the long tables in the corner along with some other employees whose faces Héctor vaguely recognised, but despite it, it seemed as if she didn’t belong the rowdy bunch of five men. She seemed to be in her own little headspace, quietly looking at the round fruit she held in her hands – eyebrows slightly narrowed in a thought.
The white collar of a button down played a peek-a-boo from underneath the scruffy navy-coloured jumper she was wearing, hair tucked behind her ears and away from her face, and a pair of beaten-up shoes on her feet – she looked out of the place among the sea of red tracksuits and football kits. Héctor watched her drop the orange to her lap before looking at her phone, grinning at something, and without even realising, his leg started to bounce ever so slightly. 
She’s probably dating someone equally irritating as she was.
Realising that he was staring, Héctor looked away quickly, sucking a deep breath before running both of his hands through his hair, pausing for a moment – his fingers interlacing behind his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was that has possessed him, and God knows, he didn’t want to do it in the first place, but he did it anyway. Glancing back at her again, he observed her as she dug her nails into the skin of the orange – nose scrunching a little when the aromatic juice sprayed against her face.
He could almost feel it too—
¡Joder!
Héctor’s head snapped quickly in front of him, rubbing his face in frustration before looking at the doors of the lunch-room, hoping to see someone who could distract him from looking towards the one person he didn’t want to spend his time on.
A feeling of relief washed over him as he saw Calum walk inside the canteen, giving a quick wave to Simone before picking up a plate to serve himself from the large containers that were neatly arranged along the till. Héctor’s eyes followed his teammate, waiting for the tall guy to look in his direction so he could wave him over. 
He hated how jittery he was beginning to feel, so when his teammate scanned the room for a free seat, Héctor quickly raised his hand, ignoring the feeling in the very pit of his stomach that he couldn’t comprehend.  
Jesus Christ!
“What you’ve got there?” Calum asked with a grin, and Héctor returned the smile, but for some reason, it didn’t quite feel right. His teammate slid in the chair next to him, peering at Héctor’s plate, “Beans? Really? Have you not seen all the food out there, Héc?” he grinned, pulling the sleeves of his tracksuit jacket up to his elbows, ready to dig into his food.
“What’s wrong with my beans?” Héctor asked, smiling a little as he took another forkful of his lunch, just in time to see Rob and Alexandre, walk in, quickly serving themselves with the food before walking over to where Héctor and Calum sat. Héctor looked back at Calum, waving his fork in his mate’s direction as he continued to talk, “It’s healthy, makes me run faster than you, and honestly mate,” Héctor stopped to take a sip of water, “it looks better than your chicken.”
“Chicken again, I see,” Rob commented passively without a greeting as he sat down opposite Héctor – long legs trying to find space under the table. Alexandre followed shortly, balancing more food than the plate could actually hold in one hand, while typing on his phone with other. He nodded, sitting down – his eyes never leaving the shiny screen.
“One day he’ll turn into a chicken,” Héctor joked before glancing at Calum from the corner of his eye while chasing the white bean covered in the tomato sauce around his plate.
His mate let out a small chuckle, carefully taking a bite of the grilled poultry in his mouth, “You say that now, but you’d become a carnivore again for a chicken like me, Heccy.”
“What did you just say?” Alexandre asked, looking up from his phone with a grin, “Héctor, my friend, I beg you, stay vegan. He’s not worth it…” he trailed off before the four men started laughing, earning an amused and curious smile from Simone who passed by their table, and dirty look from one of the elder officials who tried to focus on whatever he was doing on his iPad. “Anyway,” Alexandre started as they calmed down a little, setting his phone away and grabbing the fork only to stab chunks of steamed carrots and broccoli, looking up at his teammates, “do we know who’s going to be David’s date for the charity party? Rumours say he’s single again.”
“Do we care?” Rob asked, grinning to himself as he still tried to find a comfortable position for his legs.
“Why yes,” Alexandre responded, earning a lifted eyebrow from Héctor in return, “my bet is Claudia or even, what’s her name, the tall blonde that’s always running around in the physio room.”
“Eveline?” Rob curiously asked, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle with ease to take a sip, “I think she’s married, but yeah, then definitely Claudia, that’s if the boss let’s him ask her out.”
Calum shook his head swiftly before glancing towards his right for a second, “I think he’ll make a move on our pretty, little sunshine called Aida,” he commented, nudging Héctor under the table.
“Why are you nudging me?” Héctor asked with a laugh, setting his cutlery down as he decided to join in the conversation. “Am I missing the joke? Who’s Aida?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, all three of his teammates looked at him – amusing smirks on their faces, and as Héctor was the one to buy on the paranoia feeling that washed over him, he’d say that the entire room was looking his way as well. Deciding that his best bet was to ignore their questioning stares, Héctor shrugged before breaking the piece of his bread and running it along the lip of his plate – picking up the leftover sauce.
“Are you taking the piss now?” Rob asked, genuinely interested now in the course of their conversation as he smirked, leaning forward, and Héctor shook his head, sticking the piece of the soaked bread into his mouth.
“Why would I?” he asked – feeling as if he was missing on some important joke, “I don’t know if this idiot’s nudge was supposed to tell me something,” he added before grinning at Calum, and just as he was about to add something else, the sound of a chair scraping loudly against the linoleum floor interrupted him. Simultaneously, they all looked up and in the direction of the screeching sound where the receptionist girl was smiling apologetically towards no one in particular.
Héctor felt the knot in his stomach rise up to his throat, but he swallowed it quickly back as he, along with his mates, watched the petite girl with the messy hair scoop the orange peels in her palm, while balancing a dark-green water bottle under one arm and a lilac notebook between her lips.
The Arsenal’s right-back looked down at his plate – piled vegetables and grains staring back at him before clenching his jaw in annoyance. He could vaguely hear a commotion and Simone’s laugh, not caring about what Calum had yelled in her direction, and caring even less about what she had responded before laughing that loud, but nonetheless contagious sound.
“Since you’re wondering,” Alexandre grinned, sticking another carrot into his mouth when Héctor looked up at the Frenchman, “that’s Aida.”
**
“—honestly, I think she’s actually nice to have around. Quite funny,” Rob responded to whatever Calum had said as he wiped the beads of sweat off of his face before leaning forward on his stationary bike.
Next to them, Héctor wanted to groan out loud like a teenager would when being interrogated by his mother about his whereabouts.
He wasn’t sure nor could he pinpoint the exact moment when the name of the receptionist girl was dropped again in their conversation, but there it was – levitating around them as he shared the corner with the treadmills and stationary bikes with Rob, Calum and Leno – the German lad being his usual reserved self.
Héctor knew very well that there was no real need for them to talk about her, but the grins that his teammates were giving him were a proof enough for him to know that they were doing it on purpose. 
Hate was a strong word, but he couldn’t say that he enjoyed it either. Not after he was already—
Focus.
Instead of giving in on his teammate’s banter, Héctor rather focused on the sound of his trainers hitting against the treadmill’s moving belt.
“She’s also babysitting Auba’s son sometimes, no?” Bernd mumbled, smiling his tight-lipped smile.
Calum chuckled at the tall goalie next to him, “I know many lads that would love to be babysat by her.” 
Despite wanting to keep his mouth shut, Héctor couldn’t hold back the snort as he lowered the speed on the treadmill, while monitoring his heart-rate.
“I just don’t understand why—,” Héctor started, but quickly stopped himself, “never-mind.”
“What? You wouldn’t?” Calum asked, looking at him. “I am sure she’d love to babysit you if you only let her,” he added teasingly, and as much as he hated himself for doing it, he actually wanted to laugh at his bad joke.
“WHO WOULDN’T WANT WHAT?” David boomed from where he was jogging towards them – wild hair tied up in a ridiculous palm-resembling-something on top of his head. Joining them, he leaned casually against the side of Héctor’s  treadmill. 
With a curious smile, David glanced between the group of men before his eyes settled on a Calum who was still looking at Héctor with a smirk.
“Heccy doesn’t fancy Aida,” he answered matter-of-factly before wiping some of the sweat off of his face with his jersey. Next to him, Rob rolled with his eyes before reaching out his towel which Calum refused with a shake of his head.
Their Brazilian teammate had an amused yet shocked look on his face as he looked at Héctor with a silly grin. “What? Really? Everyone fancies her!”
“Exactly our point,” Rob interjected and it was Héctor’s turn to roll with his eyes, “but apparently, Héctor here doesn’t.”
“You do know that I am still here?” Héctor asked, forcing a grin which only earned him a handful of playful looks from his teammates. “Besides, I have every right in the world to not fancy someone.”
“But you do like brunettes, no?” Calum asked as he started to run again, and for once Héctor wanted to be outside, in the freezing cold, preferably running next to someone who didn’t ask such stupid questions or was usually consumed by their own thoughts – Sead maybe. “—okay, maybe she’s not all legs or whatnot, but still, sometimes the compact ones are the best…”
Hoping off of the treadmill, Héctor grabbed a towel that rested on one of the chairs in the corner, refusing to hear the rest of Calum’s statement or to give in into the banter. 
“You really need to find a hobby,” he grinned after wiping his face before leaving his teammates and making his way towards the other end of the room that was reserved for heavy-weights and strength training.
Standing there alone and tying his hair in a ponytail, he glanced through the windows to his right, and as if it was a force of something above, the receptionist girl walked past – steps quick as she wrapped her scarf around her neck, shielding the lower part of her face from the harsh wind. 
Héctor shook his head as he looked down at his trainers before glancing back up, only to catch a glimpse of her silhouette disappearing around the corner – the soft scent of oranges returning to haunt him for a split of a second.
What if...
No.
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softluci · 4 years ago
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moo
[a/n: so i read this imagine by @needyounow-love and they gave mammon the nickname “moo” and it has been living in the penthouse suite of my mind, rent free, ever since i read it, and as a result of that, i wrote this—whatever this is—because i love thinking about the brothers' relationships to each other, especially luci + mammon, so this is gonna be two parts, and, lastly mc is gn, enjoy ^__^]
everyone has an innate need to cause problems on purpose. some make theirs more obvious than others, and others will try to make it seem like they simply don't feel the need to do that. however, even individuals who try to make it seem like they want no part of the excitement that is breeding chaos will do exactly that. they just so happen to be subtle enough in their problem causing that nobody seems to bat an eye—unless, of course, the outcome of their need for trouble is absolutely catastrophic. 
now, lucifer is not someone who takes pride in being able to cause problems with subtlety. really—he isn’t. he does, however, take an immense amount of pride in the fact that, after eons of torment and the like, mammon hasn't managed to find a single person who can get under his skin quite like him—and mammon hasn't managed to find a single person who enjoys it as much either.
the reasoning for this is simple enough: lucifer is a ruthless sadist, lucifer has known him longer than anyone, knows him better than anyone, and when it comes to teasing, has a bigger arsenal to draw from, than anyone. 
fortunately for mammon, lucifer doesn't use their time as children against him because, as amazing as it is to see mammon in an absolute frenzy over a small remark, it also opens up the possibility of mammon returning the favor—and that simply would not do. 
be that as it may, mammon isn't the cunning type, nor is he quick-witted, so the chances of him being able to retaliate in a calm manner, if at all? slim to none. lucifer knew this, and he knew it well, which is exactly why he almost always took his chances—albeit those times were few and far in between. 
however—there are times when an opportunity is presented, and once it's there, he simply has to seize it. otherwise he might have to wait for the next chance, and who knows when that may be, or he'd have to abandon his subtlety, and neither of those options were desirable. 
this time, it was during dinner on the retreat. 
mammon sat across from him, completely absorbed in conversation with mc and a few others. the topic at hand was nicknames, it seemed. mc mentioned a nickname their family calls them, and mammon, in typical mammon fashion, poked fun at them, teasing them about how cute ridiculous it was. 
"oh, what, are you telling me you don't have any nicknames that are equally as embarrassing?" asked mc, arching an eyebrow at him. 
now, lucifer was not eavesdropping. he was not. he wasn't. he was completely engaged in a conversation with diavolo—it just so happened that mammon was right there, and he was never known for his subtlety. and, as the oldest, it was absolutely lucifer's duty to be at least slightly aware of each of his brothers' endeavors, which, of course, included conversations. so, naturally, he couldn't help the way his ears quite literally pricked up—ever so slightly, of course—upon hearing mammon say: 
"i'll do you one better—i don't have any nicknames." 
lucifer has control over most of his expressions, most of the time. however, in that moment, he could not hide the absolute shit-eating grin that crept onto his face. of course, on him, it looked more like he was plotting something absolutely heinous, which he wasn't (oh, but wasn't he, though?). 
diavolo noticed this immediately, completely intrigued by lucifer's change in demeanor. he didn't overlook the way his ears twitched, and he certainly didn't overlook the expression he wore. so, in typical dia fashion, he raised his eyebrows, and he waited. for what, he had no idea, but it was a rarity to see lucifer so very clearly about to cause problems—he had no choice but to wait and see. 
"that really hurt my feelings," said lucifer, voice low in order to avoid the possibility of making mammon suspicious. 
however, diavolo heard it, as he hears everything, and judging by lucifer's tone of voice and his telltale expression, he concluded that lucifer's feelings were, in fact, not hurt. 
even if lucifer didn't sound hurt, there was a slight pang in his chest at how quickly mammon denied having a nickname. he absolutely had a nickname, and it was perfect in every way—lucifer would know, he gave it to him when they were kids. it was an adorable one, too—it was the cutest nickname out of all his brothers, how could mammon say that he didn't even have one? as if it wasn't bad enough that mammon already made him swear not to use it around people, which, by the way, did nothing to help his pride. 
okay, so, maybe lucifer was a little hurt, maybe he was a bit stung, but also, no he wasn't, and leave him alone.
mc was horrified. while they weren’t looking at lucifer, they heard him say something in a ridiculously low tone, they felt the shift in atmosphere, however subtle it may have been, and they just knew lucifer was up to something—no matter how poised he made himself out to be. what lucifer was plotting, they had no idea, as lucifer didn’t seem like the plotting type, but it didn't stop the chill that went up their spine as they tried to relax. surely, lucifer wouldn't do anything heinous right there, right then—right? it wouldn't make any sense. 
neither the prince nor the human (nor anyone at the table, for that matter) were prepared for—
"moo," called lucifer, extending a gloved hand towards his brother, "can you pass me the bread?" 
what they were somehow less prepared for, was for mammon to hand him the basket of bread without missing a beat, going back to his conversation like nothing happened. 
mc blinked. did they hear that right? were they unwell? they must have been unwell. surely—surely, they didn't just hear— 
"anyway, like i was saying, 'the great mammon,' is a nickname, if you think about it," mammon brought their thoughts to a halt.
"first of all, that's a title, second of all, nobody calls you that except for you," said satan, beginning to grin, "and are you sure you don't have a nickname?" 
"how would i be unsure?" mammon looked insulted. affronted, even. "nicknames haven't mattered to me for the longest time, so nobody's been using one for me." 
"okay," satan conceded, voice deceptively light. "you'd know better than anyone." 
yes—right—of course. mc must have been hearing things. they often did. whispers here and there every time they were in the castle, faint footsteps echoing through empty hallways—devildom really had a haunting effect to it, so it was no surprise if they heard a thing or two that—
"moomoo," came lucifer's voice, "the olive oil." 
mammon rolled his eyes, passing him the bottle without a second thought. "you get needier and needier with each passing decade, you know that?" 
lucifer scoffed, baring his teeth in a grin, "you're one to talk, little brother."
mc was having an out of body experience. and not the good kind. 
diavolo was elated. this was one of the few times he'd seen lucifer engage in any form of mischief, and to top it off, mammon hadn't even noticed. usually, a lack of reaction would be disappointing, but diavolo knew exactly what it meant—lucifer used this nickname for mammon when they were kids, definitely, but he never stopped. knowing lucifer, he probably only called mammon "moo" (and apparently "moomoo") while they were alone (or he did so while they were in front of people most relevant to mammon, for the sole purpose of teasing him). dia had no idea lucifer was even capable of teasing this lighthearted. 
it was heartwarming to see that lucifer was capable of being soft towards his brother, even though he was often the opposite—and even though he was only doing it to be cruel. 
not to mention the fact that mammon allowed his nickname to be spoken so freely without any resistance; it was a nice change. for as long as it lasted, anyway. 
while the lack of reaction didn't bother diavolo at all, lucifer was growing impatient. he wanted the usual entertainment that came with teasing mammon, and he wanted it soon. that is to say: now. 
"you know, mammon, i'm very impressed," he started, "you usually get so upset whenever i call you that." 
confusion flickered across mammon's features. a scrunch of the nose, a raise of an eyebrow, a half hearted, half finished sentence, "whenever you call me…" 
and then—and then—the show began.
mammon's eyes widened, pupils shrinking to needlepoints. his lips began to part as his jaw went slack, realization beginning to set in. his expression twisted into indignation, a deep flush creeping up his neck.  
and then came lucifer's favorite part: when mammon tried to speak. 
except for one thing. 
mammon wasn't speaking, which could only mean one (other) thing. he was thinking—which could only mean one (other other) thing: mammon was about to absolutely shit on lucifer's fun.
mammon put up with a lot—a lot—from his brothers, and he never gave as much as he got. of course, he knew he could be a handful or ten at times, but centuries of allowing them to use him as a punching bag for their trauma equated to at least twice as many of the things he's done—and he's done a lot. he could handle the torment. he could handle the bullying. he could even handle the fact that his older brother's sadism seemed to be reserved just for him if it meant that their time after their fall wouldn't be so bad. 
but this? this was crossing a line. nicknames were sacred. they were a privilege in mammon's eyes, which is why he was so quick to deny even having one. of course, he cared about mc and his other brothers more than he would ever dare admit, but it was different with lucifer. they went way, way back—so far back that it would be incomprehensible to mc's mortal mind. it was them before it was anyone else, they had a closer bond being the oldest, it was just a fact of life. 
there were things lucifer knew about mammon that nobody else did—and that included nicknames. mammon had never been certain of anything the way he was certain nobody knew about "moo" or had the privilege of calling him as such—except for lucifer. he could distinctly remember making lucifer promise to stop using it so often once levi was born for the sole fact that he wanted it to stay between the two of them and he wouldn't know how to handle it if his younger siblings knew about such an easily exploitable weakness when he already had, like, twelve. it was supposed to be one of the pillars of their relationship, an inside thing, so to speak—and what did he do? what did his beloved brother do to him, completely unprovoked? he exposed mammon to every valued individual in the realm—valuable to mammon, anyway. 
it was okay, though. it wasn't, at all, but it was. because mammon knew things about lucifer that nobody else did—that included nicknames, and lucifer had a few. and if mammon would make sure of one thing, it would be that lucifer didn't get the fucking satisfaction. 
"mammon—mammon. i don't think he's breathing," mc's voice brought mammon out of his brief, betrayal induced brooding. 
their hands were on his upper arm, shaking him gently. he blinked, curling his fingers around their wrists and placing their hands in their lap. this was the most calm they'd ever seen him, and quite frankly, they were unsettled. 
diavolo was getting into this. clearly it had taken a turn that lucifer wasn't counting on—and that just made it twice as good. it was so rare for lucifer to be caught off guard, diavolo could only do it every so often—lucifer was always expecting his antics. but mammon taking him by surprise? that was something different. that was unheard of. his eyes flitted back and forth between them, not even trying to hide his investment as he chewed his—what was this? mc made it, but the name escaped him. whatever it was, it enhanced his experience tenfold, he'd have to thank them later. 
nobody was prepared for the string of events that happened next, specifically lucifer. unfortunately for him, it seemed as though he miscalculated when taking his chances this time around. 
"moo, are you—" started lucifer, apparently concerned by the mix of emotions staining mammon's face red, but not concerned enough to drop the nickname.
"'ah, i suppose if it means that much to you, i swear,'” started mammon, voice taking an eerily familiar tone, “isn't that what you said, lulu?" 
damn. 
mc was terrified. this was getting really bad—mammon never acted like this, and it was clear from the silence that fell over the table. they hated it. 
diavolo was brimming with excitement, albeit it didn't show. this was all so interesting! it was his first time seeing mammon so serious, and to make things even better, he had an excellent impression of lucifer. who knew? 
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killiansprincss · 4 years ago
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We Found Wonderland
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Summary: Trapped in the past after the S3 finale, Killian and Emma are forced to fade into the background as a newly married couple in a village while Rumplestilskin works on the portal to send them back to the future. (No Marian) What challenges will they face, after all it’s only pretending to be married after all right? Inspired by Taylor Swift ‘Wonderland’
Due to tumblr word limit I’ve had to post this in 2 parts, find part 1 here
Also on AO3
“It was so lovely to meet you Emma, I love that I finally get to see the woman who keeps Killian on his toes. I hope we can do this again sometime.” Cassian says.
“Good luck with your child, I can see he or she will be brought into a loving house.” Emma tells them as they leave, not even looking in Killians direction.
____
“What the fuck was that all about back there?” Emma practically screams as they enter their home.
“What do you mean love?” Killian asks dumbfounded,
“Don’t play dumb with me Hook. The proposal story.” She uses his moniker, she’s angry with him, she’s pissed off.
“Touching didn’t you think? Really brought a tear to their eyes.” He smirks, he knows he’s winding her up but he doesn’t care.
“You want to know what I think? I think someone’s getting a little too comfortable in this life, you know pretending to be married and all. I think someone is forgetting. We are not actually married! We are not from here, we do not belong here. You’re in love with me but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same.”
“You want the truth Swan?” Killian said through gritted teeth. “Fine. Yes I am getting comfortable with this life, for once you’re not always yelling at me when I’m trying to help. I won't lie and say I don’t enjoy you flirting with me for once instead of it always being me. And I don’t believe for a second my feelings for you are one sided.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Emma asks, the anger building up inside her.
Killian scoffs. “You know what I mean. When we were getting your parents together, at the ball. You looked at me different that night, like you were seeing a new side to me. You could’ve said something when we danced together over and over, but you didn’t. You got closer and closer to me over those 2 days, and when I rescued you from that blasted prison you acted like we were lovers and they didn’t question it. Ever since we found out we were stuck you’ve only been flirting with me more and more.”
“Because we are technically married. And it’s not flirting. It’s-“ Emma begins.
Killian moves closer, closing the gap between the two. She can practically feel his heartbeat as he looks into her eyes, “it’s what? Because I think you’re trying to ignore that gut feeling that you feel something for me. You don’t want to admit how you truly feel. What I feel. I’m not an idiot, you kissed me back in Neverland for a reason, and you felt something as I did. Bloody hell, I gave up everything for you Emma, I traded my ship to Blackbeard to get a magic bean to find you in New York even though you had no idea who I was. I-I” he couldn’t quite finish his sentence.
“You did what? Your ship?” Emma’s tone suddenly changes, “as in the Jolly Roger?”
Killian nods. “Aye. It was the only thing worth a magic bean.”
“You traded your ship for me?” She asks, still in shock. Nobody had done that for her before, he literally gave up his home for her. Everything he had. And she was a bitch to him.
Killian just nods. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it important.”
His ship. His home. Killian traded his home to find Emma. She had no idea who he was, he didn’t know if the memory potion would even work, but he did it anyway. He came and found her, brought her home.
Instead of saying anything Emma takes another step towards Killian closing the already small gap between them and captures his lips with hers.
They both didn’t know how much they had been longing for this, it was similar to their first kiss back in the Neverland jungle, hot and fiery. It’s filled with passion and wanting. Killian breaks the kiss for just a second to move positions and when his lips are back on Emma’s small moans escape. For in this moment, in this kiss, nothing else mattered. They forgot about their argument, about the angry screams and cusses from before. All that mattered was each other and that they were together now.
Emma wraps her legs around a Killians waist as he leads them over to the bed. Suddenly only having one bed and having to share didn't seem like such a problem.
The moans escaping from each other’s lips were getting more frequent and louder with each kiss. These enchanted forest clothes were a lot harder to remove than modern ones, but Killian was happy to oblige the removal of the dress.
“God's you’re beautiful.” Killain says taking in the sight of the almost naked Emma.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” Emma tells him. She wants him, she needs him.
Killian happily obliges, kissing her lips and her cheek and her neck leaving marks that will need covering up tomorrow. He sucks on her neck and leaves hot kisses down from her neck down her body, paying close attention to her breasts and then her stomach and inner thighs causing her back to arch and more moans start to escape.
“Killian I need you please.” Emma pleads, she wanted him.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes please. Please.”
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After that night of pleasure, they never had to argue over the bed or awkwardly untangle themselves in the mornings. The next few months are spent exploring each other’s bodies every night, and finding out new things about each other every day.
Their relationship took a turn from pretending to be real and pretending to be in love, to not being so pretend anymore. They fell into the routine of a happily married couple.
There was also something else magical about that night. It seemed Emma’s magic had returned. Sparks flew that night in one way or another. It was electrifying.
___
“Hmm something smells good.” Emma says as she walks through the door after another horrible day at work.
Killian comes out from around the corner and presses a kiss to her lips.”I’m glad you’re home. I made you a surprise for dinner.”
“You know I hate surprises.” She whines
Killian chuckles, “I promise you are going to love this surprise.”
Emma sits down at the table as Killian puts a blindfold on his ‘wife’. “Whatever this is it smells good.”
Killian removes the blindfold as he pieces the plate of food in front of her,
“Is this?” Emma asks as she sees what seems to be a grilled cheese in front of her.
“My attempt at an Enchanted Forest Grilled Cheese. I went to the market and got the finest bread and the best cheese imported from Agrabah. I then made it into a sandwich and heated it up. I couldn’t figure out how to make the onion rings, which you so enjoy too, but this is the best I could do.”
“You did this for me?” Emma is shocked that he did this for her, he didn’t have to, but he did.
“I know you’re missing home, I can’t go to Granny herself and ask her to make you one, but this is the next best thing.” Killian gives her a smile. It wasn’t to get points or anything, he did it because he was really enjoying their time together but she was always talking about Stortybrooke, so he thought he’d bring a little bit of it to their home.
“Oh.My. God. This is incredible.”she says as she takes a bite “I love you.”
Realising what she just said, they’re both taken aback.
“Slip of though don’t worry I’ll pretend you didn’t say it.” He says awkwardly scratching behind his ear, a sad tone in his voice.
“No. No, I meant it. Sure it was a slip of the tongue but I don’t regret saying it. Killian, I love you.” She finally admits. “I didn’t admit how I was feeling for the longest time, but you stayed with me and helped me through it all. You didn’t have to come find me in New York but you did, you didn’t have to help me make sure my parents met but you did. You even became my fake husband so that we can slip through the cracks until we can go home.”
Her walls were slowly coming down each day she spent with Killian. He wasn’t running away, and Emma didn’t want to run when it all became real either. And for each wall he crashed through, she didn’t feel the need to build another.
“Gods I’m so pleased to hear you say that Swan.” Killian grabs her by the waist and spins her around, releasing laughter from Emma. “I love you too Emma. So much.”
_____
So we went on our way
Too in love to think straight
All alone, or so it seemed
But there were strangers watching
And whispers turned to talking
And talking turned to screams
Emma and Killian had been in the Enchanted Forest for around 10 months, hopefully Rumplestilskin would keep his word and have the portal so that they could go back to their world in 2 months time.
10 months in the Enchanted Forest, and Emma was still not used to the clothes or the food. Cassian and Maeve had invited them round a few more times, and this time they didn't need to lie about their relationship or their feelings as much anymore. The two of them had welcomed a baby girl, and Maeve had returned to work at the tavern, so at least Emma was no longer alone in battling off the creepy men.
Although, Emma couldn’t completely control her magic so there were times it spiraled out of control and she had hoped nobody would notice it was her. There was one time she was pouring drinks, it was a really busy shift, and she accidentally made the barrels explode and beer went everywhere. It took a lot of effort not to laugh at the beer that practically drenched the guy that had been trying to touch her up all shift.
“This happens all the time, don’t worry about it.” Maeve tells Emma as she grabs a rag to start cleaning up.
Phew. She got away with it. For now.
Except it kept happening.
Emma didn’t know why or what was happening, but her magic was uncontrollable.
“It’s happening again, I don’t know what to do.” She confides in Killian. She knows he will want to help, and not just because it will keep their secret safe.
Killian trusts her, he knows her magic is never intended to harm anybody. “Why does it keep happening at work, you don’t seem to have outbursts at home.”
“I feel safe at home.” Emma admits. “When I’m with you, I feel safe, I can pretend it’s just us and the rest of the world doesn’t exist. When I’m at work I get nervous because you’re not there and I have to do it all alone, keep up appearances. You’re so much better at it than I am.”
“I have something for you then.” Killian says as he pulls a chain from around his neck, with a cool silver ring attached.
“Wow, wow wow.” Emma’s heart suddenly starts to race, she loved Killian, but if this ring was his way of proposing they were moving way too quickly.
“Calm down Swan, I’m not proposing.” He realises he should have led with that before pulling out a ring. “You know I’m a survivor, and this ring is why. It belonged to my brother, a better man than I am. It’s kept me safe all these years, and now it’s going to keep you safe. At the very least it’s a reminder that you’ve got a smouldering piercing eyed pirate at home who loves you.”
She kisses him and smiles. Her smile is so bright, nobody has ever cared or loved her the way Killian does, and it’s kind of scary, but Killian hasn’t left her, he stuck by her and she’s slowly realising that being in love, especially with Killian, is nothing to be afraid of. “I love you too.”
Now when she was at work and felt her magic or became overwhelmed, she would hold the ring on the chain, and breathe. She would think of Killian and how they would be going home soon.
______
For the first couple weeks after clinging to the ring, Emma was fine. Her magic did become slightly overwhelming but she took the ring and held it for a few seconds, thought of Killain, and she was fine.
But then their story started getting poked at.
“Where did you say you came from again?” A girl at work would ask.
“Crestbourne, just north of here.” Emma says, hoping the subject will change soon.
“Crestborune? Isn’t that South?”
Emma plays dumb, “Right, I meant South. Sorry my head is spinning today, too much rum after work last night,”
Killian experienced the same thing.
“You say you were in the Royal Navy Jones?” Someone at work would ask.
“Aye, me and my brother. Under King Elijah.”
“Only because I have a friend currently in King Elijah’s army, and he hadn’t heard of a Jones in that army for over a hundred years.”
Killian didn’t know what to say, he didn’t expect to be caught out like this. So he just laughs and says, “Well I guess I didn’t make much of an impact if nobody remembers me.” It’s the best he can do.
That night at home, Emma and Killian discuss their situation.
“What do we do? Go back to Rumple? Work for him for the next 2 months?” Emma suggests, despite the fact that she doesn’t want to do this, maybe they had no choice.
“No. Absolutely not. I still don’t trust the Crocodile. If we go to him now before the Portals is ready- who knows what he’ll do with us?” Killian had every right to be afraid, especially as this Rumpelstiltskin was not the Mr. Gold they could threaten in Storybrooke.
Emma was worried, how much longer could this go on? “Then what do you plan we do?”
Killian takes Emma’s hand and pulls her in for a kiss. “We’ve come this far together. As long as we stick together, we can wager any more storms that come our way.”
Emma can’t help but smile at his sea analogies. But he was right, they had survived ten months together without any complications, they just needed to survive 2 more. As long as they were together, they could do this.
____
The next day Emma heads to work with Maeve, they both have an afternoon shift and she appreciated the company. Poor Maeve is working 3 days at the tavern and 4 days at the market. She and Cassian can barely afford clothes for their baby girl who is growing every day. Emma wishes she could tell her that it gets better, and that soon she hopefully wouldn’t have these problems. She’s pretty sure all jobs in Storybrooke pay a decent living wage.
“What’s happening up there?” Emma asks Maeve as they see a crowd start to form outside the tavern.
“I’m not sure.” Maeve looks equally as confused as they approach the growing crowd.
“WITCHES! BURN THE WITCHES!” They hear.
Oh no. No. This was not good.
This wasn’t like Storybrooke, people didn’t always accept magic here. And if they found out about Emma, who knows what they would do to her.
“I know there’s a witch here. Strange things have been happening, I know magic when I see it.” A man with a pitchfork says. Emma recognises him as a regular. A regular who likes to touch the girls that work there.
Emma’s heart is suddenly racing. Last night she made the barrels explode again. She tried to think of Killian and his ring, but she heard the name ‘Henry’ and her emotions, and therefore her magic was spiralling. The lights flickered before they cut out immediately and goblets started to shatter-despite being made of a heavy duty material.
Maeve looks at Emma, “Go. Go now before they find you.
Emma gives her a confused look, “what do you mean?”
In a quiet voice, she tells her, “I know you have magic. I see it, but you can’t control it. You would never use it to hurt anybody, but they don’t know that. Go now, escape while you still can.”
Emma gives Maeve a hug, “Thank you.”
“I know you don’t belong here. So I hope you can get back to wherever it is.” Maeve whispers.
Emma nods, Maeve was smart. “Things will get better. I promise.” Before she runs away back to their home.
Bursting through the door, she sees Killian taking a nap, he’d been working a lot more shifts lately, in his attempt to slip through the cracks.
“Killian! Wake up! Killain! We need to get out of here. They know. We need to find Rumple. I don’t care that it's only been 10 months. I need to be safe. I can’t do this anymore.” She’s rambling, Killian can’t understand what she’s saying.
“Swan calm down. What’s going on?” Killian asks, in his half sleep state.
Emma takes a deep breath and explains the Witch Hunt going on outside the tavern and how Maeve knows she has magic, and has given her a head start.
“THE WITCH LIVES HERE! I'VE SEEN IT!”
Suddenly there’s a pounding on their door. Emma and Killian look at one another. “Swan if you have a way of getting us out by magic, do it now.”
The door breaks down and there’s a crowd of angry villagers with pitchforks and spires, “There’s the witch, I’ve seen sparks and white fog coming from their house time and time again. She’s practising magic.”
“Killian I can’t control it, I don’t know how to get us out.” Emma whispers, panic setting in, her fists are glowing, letting the angry villagers know they’re right about their assumptions.
“Swan. Look at me.” Killian says, using his one hand to turn Emma’s face to his.”Your magic is inside of you. I understand you can’t control it, but I’ve seen you do it before. You can do this, I believe in you.”
Emma takes Killians hand in hers and thinks hard about what she wants. She wants to get home to their family. Killian has been by her side through it all, he’s been her rock, she thinks of his ring and how much she loves him. She feels her power, and focuses on escaping.
Her fists glow brighter, and a second later they disappear in a puff of white smoke, and appear into the great hall of Rumple's Castle.
Emma opens her eyes to see the results of her first time really using her magic.
“You did it Swan!” Killian wraps his arms around her. “You’re bloody brilliant you know that!”
Emma breathes a sigh of relief as she hugs Killian. She did it, she actually did it.
“You wield in magic. I’m impressed.” Rumples' voice tears them from each other’s thoughts about what just happened.
“The villagers found out about us lying. And we were at the centre of a witch hunt. Is there any way the portal can be ready early?” Emma is practically begging, which she never thought she would. This Rumple was far less likely to help them than Gold.
The Dark One just laughs. “Oh I haven’t been working on the portal.”
“Please tell me this is a joke.” Killian half laughs, hoping it wasn’t true.
Rumple raises his eyebrows, “I don’t joke. I’ve been working on a memory potion for myself. I already know too much about the future, can’t know anymore.”
Pressing her lips together to stop her from wringing her hands around his neck, Emma simply asks, “so how do we get home?”
“With this.” He says as a wand poofs into his hand.
“I don’t understand.”
Rumple rolls his eyes at Emma. “You have proven yourself powerful enough these past few months, you are the only one who can replicate the spell that brought you here.”
“So you’re telling me, these past 10 months have been a test? That we didn’t need to make up a fake life and live here?” Killian asks, anger building up.
Rumple laughs. “Of course it was a test! You needed to prove you were powerful enough. And like I said, there was no use for you in my Castle, I already had help.” Emma notices the Castle isn’t as clean as it was 10 months ago, assuming Belle had been captured by Regina by now.
“I’m gonna kill him when we get home.” Emma whispers to herself.
/\/\/\/\
Rumple poofs them into the basement, or the dungeon of his Castle, filled with what was most likely the most dangerous magic and weapons.
The glamour Rumple had put them on had vanished, and they were back in their other clothes, Emma’s leather jacket, her armour was back on and she felt somewhat safe. The wand felt heavy in her hand, it was powerful magic, also likely dark magic if it were able to replicate any spell or curse.
“How do I do this?” She asks Killian.
“You’re the magic one Swan not me.” His tone was cold, what was up with him?
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just eager to get home.” He says looking around at the magical objects
Emma lowers the wand and turns to face Killian. “What’s wrong with you?
Avoiding her gaze, he simply says. “Everything changes when we’re home.”
Emma furrows her brow, “What’s changing?” She grabs his hand and forces him to look at her. “Killian, what is going to change?”
“Us, Everything. Your feelings for me. It was nice while it lasted.”
“You think I’m going to leave you when we get back home?” She asks, slightly hurt that he would even think that.
“I’m a Pirate Swan. You think your family of royals and heroes are going to accept me?” Killian was afraid of going home, it wouldn’t just be him and Emma anymore.
“Killian, I love you. And that’s not going away when we get home. I don’t care what my parents think, you have stayed with me all this time. You have a mark in the hero column.” She kisses him, letting him know that while things will be different, things aren’t going to change between them.
As she kisses him, the wand In her hand begins to glow white. Holding Killians hand tight, she raises the wand in the air and thinks of home, and her family.
“You did it Swan.” Killian says, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, looking at the golden shimmering portal which had opened.
“Let’s go home.” She says as she places the wand on the table and grabs Killians hand as they jump into the Portal.
/\/\/\/\
They come through the Portal with a bump. Storybrooke. They’re home.
“We did it! We’re home!” Emma can feel tears coming from her eyes, she didn’t know when she would see home again.
“You did it Swan. You’re bloody amazing.” Killain says picking her up and spinning her around, the same way as when Emma told him she loved him.
“Let’s go. Let’s go find our family.” Killian could almost cry at the way Emma said ‘our’, they may not be married anymore, but she still loved him and they were in this together. Whatever they face next, they face it together.
And so they walk hand in hand to Granny’s to find everyone.
In Storybrooke, only a matter of days had passed, thankfully they hadn’t missed almost a year. But she did miss the official name ceremony of her baby brother, Prince Leo, named after Snow's father.
“So you’re Princess Leia?” Snow asks, as they flick through Henry’s book to find Emma and Killians adventure now in it.
Henry chuckles, “Nice alias Mom!”
“I guess that means you’re finally one of us. A fairytale princess at last.” David says as he muses the picture of Emma and Hook dancing together at the ball.
“So what happened after that? You were there almost a year? What was it like? Did you slay a dragon, or get caught in the ogre war?” Henry asks, wanting to know all about her Enchanted Forest adventure.
Emma rolls her eyes, “Sorry Kid, no dragon slaying or ogres. Gold, or uh Rumple. He wanted to test us, test my magic. So we had to pretend to be a married couple living in a small village out of sight, and I had to work in a tavern for 10 months until my magic returned and I was the focus of a witch hunt.”
“Witch Hunt?”
“Married to Hook?”
Her parents clearly had different reactions to her story.
Emma just laughs, “It was a scary experience all right. But I couldn’t have gotten through it without my ‘husband’. It wasn’t so bad, but I’m so happy to be back at Granny’s, I missed her onion rings.” And she gives Hook a knowing look that causes them both to smile at the memory.
“Wait-are you two?” Henry asks realising the looks and smiles his mother was sharing with Hook.
Emma doesn’t quite know how to react, she wasn’t ashamed, but her family didn't know Killian like she did.
“I’m happy for you Emma. Really.” Snow says, holding out her hands to both Emma and Hook.
“I guess the Pirate isn’t so bad, as long as you don’t hurt her I’m happy.” David fights the urge to say something worse, but in all honesty he was happy for Emma.
“Does this mean Hook can teach me how to sword fight?” Henry asks his grandparents with a grin on his face making Emma smile.
Her family was reunited. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had a family who loved her and wouldn’t leave her. It may have taken time, and a curse, but it was worth it. Henry didn’t bring her to Storybrooke to break some curse, he was bringing her home.
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