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#he also bought her the necklace and he gave her a bit of his own stone for it so that he is always by her side
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Batkids Hobby Headcanons
Dick - Gymnastics is the most obvious one. When he was younger, Bruce initially didn't want him to compete in competitions, or even join a team, because Dick would have an "unfair advantage". However, he eventually gave in and allowed him to join the school's team. Another hobby he has is baking. In most cases, he is forbid from the kitchen, however he is a fantastic baker. He is also very good at making fantastic stews, which Alfred has even claimed to be better than his own.
Jason - He's a literature nerd, with a particular love for the classics; Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte are his favorite authors. However, we all know Jason is a theater kid at heart. He did every school play at Gotham Academy, and though he hasn't acted in anything since his resurrection, he still goes to local theaters with Alfred fairly often. He's also a fantastic cook, and the only person in Wayne Manor (other than Alfred) to never receive any sort of kitchen ban.
Tim - Photography is Tim's favorite hobby. His first camera was one of the most meaningful presents from his parents when he was younger, winning several photography competitions. He hasn't indulged as often since becoming a vigilante. Barbara still keeps him on-call as her blackmail collector though, which he does happily. He's also into skateboarding, finding skate parks to be a nice escape when he needs time alone. Many of his photo shoots occurred at the skate parks, for very emotionally charged urban photography. Other than those, he likes disassembling things to see how they work. This destructive hobby was punished and frowned upon when he was younger, but when Bruce discovered that Tim enjoyed taking things apart, would start leaving things around for him to play with, like old microwaves, or failed bat-projects. Tim also loves comic books, of which he has an impressive collection.
Damian - Art is something Ra's looked down upon, calling it "weak" and "insubstantial in society". However, it was still something Damian enjoyed, so he had to keep his hobby a secret. He was terrified Bruce would kick him out, when he found the sketchbooks hidden in Damian's room, however Bruce just asked if there were any supplies Damian wanted. He's still a bit self conscious of his art, but he is more open, giving paintings to his family as gifts, and even entering in an art show. He still has a fascination with knives from his time with the League of Assassins, and enjoys collecting ones that interest him, particularly vintage knives, and unique knives made out of unconventional materials, or those with intricate designs. Jon was the one to get him into video games, which he denies enjoying, but the hours he's put into Cheese Viking would say otherwise.
Cass - Ballet was one of the first things she fell in love with after being adopted. It was so similar to how she was raised-people talking with their bodies-but without the violence she so loathed. She easily convinced Bruce to sign her up for classes, and for once, it was something she could do, to communicate with people in a way she knew well. Another interest she picked up was astrology. It was something fun that she didn't necessarily believe in, but was a comfortable guidance. Damian hand painted her a custom tarot deck, and she has a small collection of crystals she finds pretty. Zatanna has offered to enchant some of them for her, but Cass declined the offer, saying that giving them actual magic enchantments removes the aspect of belief that she found comforting. She understood that the black tourmaline necklace Bruce bought her wouldn't actually keep her safe, but it gave her comfort, and a sense of safety, especially because it was a gift from her dad. (author's note: I don't actually know that much about astrology, tarot, and crystals, so if anyone wants to add to this and give a more realistic description of how it works, I would love to see it)
Steph - similar to Dick, she is a gymnast, though not quite at Dick's level. She is also into martial arts and has taken a few classes in Taekwondo and Boxing, and whatever other free classes were being offered at the community center. Cartoons and anime are pretty big interests, as well as video games. She often jumps around from hobby to hobby, and has several miscellaneous skills in a little bit of everything. (author's note: a lot of Steph I based off of myself. She's a character I relate a lot to, so a lot of myself is projected into her. Her height and weight being one of them. However, that was also because DC doesn't seem to know what a human woman looks like, because most of the female characters in the Batfamily are 5'4" or 5'5", and around 120 lbs, including Steph. So I just borrowed by height and weight from highschool, when I was at peak physical fitness, at the gym 4 times a week, and doing 2 sports, once meeting 2 times a week and the other meeting 3 times a week. That would place her at 5'8" and 155lbs, which is far more reasonable for an active vigilante. rant over). She also feels like the kind of person who would be into scrapbooking. Most of her pictures are stolen from Tim, and the pages are brightly colored with fun stickers and glitter.
Duke - he gives off the vibe of a soccer player. However, because of his focus on school and crime fighting, he just plays for the rec team. It's a fun activity that he can enjoy when he was time, and also use to explain away his fitness level and injuries. He's also a huge movie buff, enjoying to analyze every aspect of the film, from the characters, to the camera work, to the framing of each scene. He isn't as interested in making his own movies, but gets very into it when he does. Quentin Tarantino is his favorite filmaker, however Damian has stared getting him into foreign films as well.
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randomfoggytiger · 1 year
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The Scully Family In-Depth (Part I): Childhood and the Pilot
It's time to break down the All-American Scullys with their strong sense of family, tightly held religious beliefs, and psychic leanings that were hinted at but never fully explored in canon.
**Note**: All of the Scullys have had their personalities assessed and Typed (Scully, Maggie, Melissa, and the Bill Scullys and Charlie?); so feel free if you want to see how they operate in their own minds (and with each other, explored in the Bill Scullys post.)
Childhood
Bill proposed to Maggie when he stepped off his ship after the Cuban Blockade; and they played "Beyond the Sea"-- the song that heralded his arrival-- at their wedding (and later at his funeral.) The dates are a bit snarly, as canonically Bill and Melissa were conceived out of wedlock to a very Catholic family, but that's due to the show's writing team not having had a show bible to refer back to (but also makes perfect sense for Maggie's freedom-seeking, "don't tie me down" character... so make of that what you will.) He and his wife were in love and happy, with her gently teasing him in Beyond the Sea about his fastidious ways ("As if he's an authority on having a good time")
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and he good-naturedly taking it on the chin.
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As a father, Bill Scully gave his children clear instructions on what not to do while they played, but gave them space to make their own decisions.
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He also made model WWII planes with his sons (which Scully remembered the names of years later in Piper Maru); and read Moby Dick to his daughter over and over as a bedtime story, bonding over their own nicknames of Ahab and Starbuck (ones Scully honored when naming her subsequent pets.)
Scully's childhood was spent moving from one Naval Base to another (with a cut out line in Kitsunegari stating they'd been stationed in Japan once) but kept afloat with a heavy dose of tradition. Each Christmas, her father would always put the star or angel on top of the tree (mentioned in A Christmas Carol)
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and would always take the decorations down the day after Christmas. One of those Christmases Maggie gifted her daughters their crosses
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...which Scully also claims was a birthday present. Of her two daughters, Melissa doesn't seem too enthusiastic to receive a cross
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while Scully feels honored to be given a symbol of her family's beliefs. Both girls drift from the faith before the events of S1; but Scully gravitates back to as an anchor amidst the turbulence of her repeated life traumas.
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An important note: When did Scully receive her necklace? Canon says on her birthday, but shows Maggie handing it to her on Christmas Is this a show bible problem, or can it be explained? Yes, indeedy, it can! Pick which explanation you like best (or all of them!)--
#1. It's both: the original chain was longer than the chain Scully wears in the series, meaning that Maggie gifted her another, smaller chain on an ensuing birthday.
#2. The necklace Scully wears now is her sister's necklace, possibly gifted to her by Melissa on her birthday. Melissa's necklace had a shorter, more delicate chain
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compared to her sister's (who was a rough-and-tumble tomboy);
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and it could be an heirloom Scully cherished from her sister and gave to Emily, believing her to have been Melissa's daughter.
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#3. Regardless, Mulder would have had to rifle through Scully's apartment to have found the longer chain; meaning the one he wore to California (3) was probably found in late night wanderings to her place, revisiting the scene of the crime perhaps for clues but really for penance. (Or he bought a new chain so he could wear her cross? Unlikely considering his habits and cheapskate second-nature.)
Little Scully and her brothers were close-- so much so that their fight over a rabbit Scully rescued (Bill threatened to stew it and Dana shoved and yelled at him, standing her ground)
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was resolved without hanging resentment; and the duo later gallivanted in the woods with Charlie to shoot. Charlie was active participant in their childhood activities; and he and Bill bought their sister a BB gun for one of her birthdays-- though likely it was bought with the lion's share of Bill's pocket money, which would be in-line with his character (see Type post here)--
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even though her birthday was in February and they didn't shoot the gun until autumn (there's that show bible problem again.)
Death plays a key part in Scully's early memories: when Bill was bullying her about the rabbit, she accidentally smothered it to death while trying to protect it.
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And when shooting with her brothers, she'd wounded a snake in her fervor, grasping it in sorrow and crying in remorse.
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Maggie noted: "Through tears she was saying that: 'Something was missing from the snake.' She'd taken something that was not hers to take. And although deathly afraid of snakes, Dana held the animal as if sheer human will could keep it alive."
These experiences are pivotal for Scully's character:
She realized has an unreasonable hope against reality, denying what she cannot understand.
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It's why she gravitated to science: it helped her explain and quantify life's tragedies and morbid mysteries, giving her answers to make peace with the ups and downs she encounters. It also stripped her of her denial and excuses, holding her steadfastly honest character accountable. Her main defense is (and was) denial; but her honesty checkmates that impulse, accepting the truth even if it's unpleasant.
Scully also developed a profound fear of death--
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avoiding all discussion of it later after her abduction and during her cancer arc-- fear which drew her to medicine, then pathology, then self-protection and harm prevention in law enforcement. Likely, this fear drew her to a career in death, a way to understand and overcome it. While a part of her is resigned to the cycle of life and death, she never truly makes peace with loss, feeling it keenly in all areas of her life. She is later baffled that Alfred Fellig could have "too much life"; and it's not until her experience in Tithonus that she is shaken with the realization that there is a fate worse than death.
Melissa Scully, meanwhile, never feared death: she respected it, viewing it as a release for a soul from being trapped. Her childhood seems to have been spent observing and nurturing her sister-- playing hopscotch and celebrating her sister's successful jump;
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complicitly sneaking down to open presents early;
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and encouraging her to follow her heart and join the FBI when both of their parents were upset that Scully had left medicine. Scully's subconscious even dreams her into the rabbit memory, blending Melissa and Emily as a silent, watchful observer on the stairs.
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As a teenager, Scully sneaked out late with her mother's cigarettes, quietly smoking on the porch and hoping she wouldn't get caught because her father would "kill her." She seemed to have quit the habit by the time she dropped out of medical school and joined the FBI, which finally earned her father's anger.
At Christmas, she was torn between doing what she felt was right and walking away from Quantico so she would no longer disappoint her Captain Scully and Maggie.
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Melissa is the one who encouraged her to "follow her heart", stabling Scully's insecurity with a steady faith that "There is no right or wrong. Life's just a path."
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Melissa and Captain Scully seem to have had the greatest impacts on Scully's mentality-- Melissa encouraged and pushed her sister out of her comfort zone while always standing beside her in support (which Scully needs because of her Ni Demon, post here); and Ahab cherished his Starbuck, teaching her constellations while they boated and proudly supporting her in everything she did... except the FBI. Scully clung to them both: she took after her father's stoicism and needed his strength; but she needed Melissa's carefree backup even though they could never see eye-to-eye and often got into meaningless bickerings once they became adults.
As for the rest of the family, Maggie was Scully's steady, unwavering rock of support: she was just as angry as her husband about her daughter's career change, but by the time S1 unfolds, she has set aside those frustrations and is wholeheartedly supporting her baby girl, even "encouraging" her husband (with imperious eyebrows) to get over the awkward tension he and his little girl had built up. Bill seems to be on good terms with Scully whenever they show up in each other's lives even when he's being a pain (which will be explored in future); and Scully seems more actively involved in Charlie's life up until late S4 (again, will be discussed in future parts.) But as a whole, the Scullys seem to be tightly bonded, with their disagreements becoming water under the bridge rather than dealbreakers... for now.
Pilot
Scully begins her career with the FBI, ready to distinguish herself.
"I was recruited out of medical school," she recounts, tamping down her proud smile as best she can.
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The only comment she makes about her family is that: "My parents still think it as an act of rebellion,
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but uh..."-- she trails off with a Cheshire Cat grin.
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Her parents weren't wrong, as evidenced by her deeply satisfied smirk
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(exactly like the one she had in Never Again while "rebelling" against her life and getting the tattoo "that she deserves.)
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and her own teen rebellion-- afraid of but hoping to get caught.
While small in mention, it is large in consequence: Scully is pursuing the FBI because it feels right; but she is also deriving a little satisfaction at pushing at boundaries and making a name for herself through her own endeavors. We shall see how that unfolds.
Thank you for reading~
Enjoy!
**Disclaimers**: There are probably typos; but I've given up on the nit-picky grammar life. I'll come back and sneak edit later~.
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justagalwhowrites · 5 months
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Ooh she’s back!! ☺️ I hope you had a fun and relaxing vacay!
So thinking about any future characters you’d write for and work you have/haven't seen, what about Ezra? I was sincerely pleased by how much I liked Prospect. I don’t usually go for scifi but the lower budget look of the thing really appealed to me. I don’t even know if it was intentional, but I loved how all the ships/equipment looked kinda normal? Like mechanical in a way we’d understand and not just scifi deus ex machina. Plus Ezra is cute af. And I love Sophie Thatcher. I haven’t seen The Bubble, Kingsmen, or The Great Wall. I think they might put me off a bit but I love his clips.
Also, I would love to know your names for Doc & Bambi (and NIT if she has one). Reader inserts don’t really work on me so I actually like a look/name 😃
Hi Bestie!!!
I am, indeed, back!
My vacation was LOVELY. I got to see some of my oldest friends, experienced some very cool art installations, went wine tasting, ate great food. I just got to love on some of my favorite people and it was the best! I just wrote almost nothing at all. Like fuck all. Like 2,000 words. That's it. I'm lame.
I really want to write for Ezra! I just haven't had something come out and grab me yet as a story idea or a character thought, either? But I do fully intend to write for him. I'm a sucker for sci-fi. It's one of my first loves and exploring worlds outside our own is so much fun. That's probably why my first fic was Mando, the Star Wars universe has had me in a chokehold for like 27 years! Prospect is definitely on the list. I just need to think a bit harder!
As far as character names go, they're below the cut! Please know these might be true for me but I don't consider them canon. Their names are whatever you want them to be! But yeah, I know just about everything about my characters lol most of it doesn't end up in the story but I like knowing it, the names are just a part of that :)
Names :D Here are the character names and why they're called what they're called!
Doc - Rachel Elizabeth Evans. Rachel is also her grandmother's first name and Elizabeth is a family middle name. Evans is her mom's last name. Joel and Tommy frequently called her Rach before they really fell into the whole Kid thing but Joel tried to use her real, full first name around Sarah to make sure Sarah was respectful and used the name Rachel.
Bambi - Ophelia Marie Brooks. Bambi's mom DESPERATELY wanted a hyper feminine and refined sounding name for her only daughter, something that she felt would make her sound like a true southern belle. Of course, Bambi had other ideas. So yeah, she was getting announced at rodeos as Ophelia Brooks before getting yeeted off a horse lmfao Weirdly, Bambi was pretty cool with her name. She liked that it wasn't the same as anyone else's she was in school with because she didn't feel much connection to any of those people. It gave her some room to find her own identity because she didn't know another Ophelia. Richie called her Lili when he was little and couldn't say Ophelia and her pet name as a girl was Ladybug when she was really small (and forever for her mother) and that just became Bug when it became clear that there wasn't much ladylike about Bambi.
Beautiful - Chloe Renee Myers. Not too much of a story behind this name! Renee is a family middle name and Chloe was just the name that her mom liked when she was a teenager and pregnant. Myers is her dad's last name, something Beautiful is not thrilled about. She is very much looking forward to taking the name Miller! She's also kind of happy that she's going to keep the same initials because she bought herself a monogrammed necklace as a treat your self thing when she finished college and she's like "oh sweet, that's still going to be accurate!"
If you read the names, I'm dying to know if you think they fit the characters or think they're way off base or if you had something else in mind.
Thanks for reading!! Love you!!!!
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mayabellis · 4 months
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Random Black family headcanons
The post will be edited
1. Birth mark
Every child from Black family has a "constellation" of moles at their body. That's where they have their names from. Actually only their parents, siblings and romantic partners are aware of this fact beacuse birthmarks are in not very visible places. Eg. Regulus has Leo's contellation at his hip. The reason why Narcissa doesn't have star's name is beacause she wasn't born with Black's birthmark but with Rosier's one (her mother is from Rosier family). It resembled narcissus flower
2. Matching necklaces
When Beallatrix had her first trip to Hogsmade she bought three necklaces with letter "B". She gave two of them to her sisters. Few years later when Andromeda married a muggleborn Bellatrix get rid of her nacklace. She didn't want to be reminded of the traitor. Narcissa stop wearing hers in official situations but she kept it and she was wearing it when she was home alone (or later only with baby Draco). Andromeda never stopped wearing hers. She was taking it of only when she was going to sleep and every next morning she was putting it.
3. Scarf
When Sirius was at his first year at Hogwarts Andromeda borrowed him her scarf. The day was cold, she met him at school grounds and he apparently had forgotten his scarf. Sirus forgot to give the scarf back and that was the year when Andie was ending school. Actually she never asked for return. That's why Sirius kept the scarf. And every time when he was upset he was keeping it close like a teddy bear to think about his favourite cousin. When he was taken to Azkaban and they tried to take the scarf away from him he bit them. Then he was sleeping with it every night. Around 1995 when he met Tonks he gave her old slytherin scarf saying "give it to your mom, tell her I miss her". Dora told him to keep the scarf but then asked Remus for it right after Sirius's death (Remus knew where his best friend (if you prefer boyfriend) used to keep souvenirs). Andromeda got her scarf back not long after she lost her cousin.
4. Hardest choice
Andromeda got pregnant before marriage, while she was still living with her family. When she realised she was expecting a baby she confessed to her mother. She even said that this is muggleborn's child. Her mother (after argument and calling her a slut) found a solution. She told her daughter to marry some pureblood beafore the pregnancy would be visible and raise a child like this man was it's father. That was the moment when Andie decided to run away from home. She couldn't take her baby away from it's real father just for externals. She couldn't raise her baby in a lie. She never wanted to leave Narcissa on her own but there was no other choice. It wasn't just about her anymore. It was about being mother
5. Aristocratic skills
Since pure blood families are equivalent of aristocracy in real world many poeple headcankn Blacks as french speakers. I've also seen headcanons about Black brothers (idk how does this work with Black sisters) playing instruments. And I love both of this tropes but I wanted to add something. First thing: I strongly believe that Blacks (especially girls) were also taught dancing. Second: I headcanon Andromeda and Narcissa teaching their children aristocratic skills. Of course Andie didn't heve to teach her "broken" child but she believed that skills were useful. And here's how did this work in my opinion:
Draco learned to dance and used to play instrument when he was little but when his started Hogwarts he didn't have enough time to practice so he never mastered playing instrument. He never liked to study languages so he didn't learn french and he really regretted it at his 4th year (Triwizard tournament)
Dora learned french, she always thought that was a funny language which made her enthusiastic about learning. She also learned dancing but always when she had a chance she prefered to just jump around the room with her dad to "The Beatles" records. However the skill of ball dancing turned out to be useful during wedding (she led, Monny just trusted like he used to with Padfoot before). Dora never learned to play instrument. She didn't have enough patience
6. Muggle music
Andromeda was the one who intodroduced Sirius to muggle music. When she started frindship with Ted Tonks (I headcanon them as friends to lovers like many people do) she quite fast became fan of "The Beatles". She showed one vinyl to Sirius. At first he wasn't into this music and he started listening to it just because it was muggle. But during the years he was digging deeper and deeper into muggle rock music. Then he found metal. And then with little Remus' help and companion he bacame punk. And many years later he returned favor. He intoduced Dora to muggle punk music (she was raised listening "The Beatels" and she became fan of "Weird sisters" but she didn't know muggle punk).
7. Drinking
Everybody from Black family had high tolerance for alcohol in my opinion. It doesn't mean that everybody drink a lot but they can drink a lot without being really drunk. Even Draco can hold his drink beacuse of his mum. Lucius never had a high tolerance.
8. Phobias
Evrybody from Black family had a fear that they traied to get rid of but finally they would always meet them.
Regulus was always afraid of water. Sirius would make fun of him for not learning swimming. He was too scared to try. He never learned swimming. He never stopped being afraid of water. He tried to fight with this fear just once. He had to acomplish his mission. When he entered the cave he remembered all of the times when Sirius was innocently laughing at him. He imagined his older brother teasing him. The urge to prove that "ghost" wrong was his final motovation. It didn't matter that the real, living Sirius would probably never know the truth. The imagined one had to know that his brother was not a coward. When he was pulled into the lake he closed his eyes trying to imagine Sirius' smile. He didn't want to see endless water at his last moment. He wanted to see his brother.
Sirius was always afraid of darkness. Since he was little he would sleep with a night lamp and then he would light his wand every night (with lumos) and sleep with it. He thought the fear disappeared after Azkaban. He hadn't had a wand there so he couldn't light it. He had to just get used to sleeping in the darkness. He was sure he did. But in fact that fear just got worse. He realized that first night after his runaway. He couldn't sleep whole night because it was too dark. In Azkaban the metaphorical "darkness" was much worse than the litteral one. He would sleep as much as he could just to avoid going crazy. When he run away, he was safe again. He could stop being afraid of craziness so his childhood fear came back to take that free space. Despite his fear of darkness he died falling into light.
Narcissa was always afraid of loud noise. Every time Andromeda would fight with their mother Cissy would cover her ears. She never wanted to fight just to don't be shouted on. When she became a mother she hated the noises made by the baby at first. She even regretted having a child somtimes. But with time she got used to noises made by the child. She even liked some of them, especially laugh. She was sure she got rid of her fear until her house became deatheaters meeting place. She cried in her pillow every night but she was doing everything not to let Lucius see. They were too loud, she never asked for it but she felt her fear was riddiculus. That wasn't the moment to be riddiculus. She had to be stronger than ever to protect her family. It turned out that she was stronger than she expexted when she survived the final battle.
Andromeda was always afraid of loneliness. She was very loud and social at school just too be sure that she would always have someone to spend time with but they were never close to her. So the school friendships ended at the moment she graduated. Then she run away from home. She lost her family and friends. She lost everyone except her husband. When she gave birth to Nymphadora her new family became her everything and she was happy even though she wasn't the popular girl anymore. Years later her daughter got married and fell pregnant. Everything was perfect until everything was lost. Andie was left with a baby and unlike 25 years before there was nobody to help her. She would unalive herself if she didn't have to raise her grandson. All by herself.
Bellatrix was always afraid of pain and blood. When she was about 18 she got fascinated by Dark Lord's ideology. Not long after she realised that asking questions means being tortured. She became perfect death eater not only because she believed in the ideology but also to avoid pain. She was using the most painful spells on her victims but not the ones which caused a lot of blood. She got used to blood enough to not be scared of it but she didn't like to look at it to the end. The point was, she had to. Lot of deatheaters enjoyed seeing blood. She, as a leading one was almost everywhere and everytime. She had to pretend proud, happy and insane during others were commiting crimes full of blood. She was insane indeed but she was laughing just to hide the fear and disgust. Luckily she was good at acting so everyone was sure that she loved watching blood. Ironicaly her death was fast, almost painless and there was no blood.
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𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
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We don’t, nor do we ever, need to see Eddie’s biological father because we already have his dad. Wayne fucking Munson. (FYI I made myself sad writing this so it may be a bit of an emotional ride oops)
Wayne, who gave Eddie birthday and Christmas money to help him save up for his first ever guitar. Eddie ended up buying a secondhand acoustic guitar from a garage sale and treasured it. His parents didn’t care to pay for him to have lessons, so Wayne would ask one of his friends from work to teach him every now and again. 
Wayne, who, the moment his brother was sent to prison and his sister-in-law abandoned her son, took Eddie in without even a moment of hesitation. He gave him his room in the trailer without thinking twice and bought a camping bed for him to use at night time, making sure he was awake and the bed was put away before Eddie was up and about getting ready for school. 
Wayne, who became his legal guardian after fighting tooth and nail for him because his piece of shit brother wasn’t going to be out of prison any time soon and Eddie’s mom signed away her rights to him because he was ‘too much to handle’ and ‘a burden’. 
Wayne, who picked him up from school after his first fight in middle school and disciplined him but also made sure he was okay and taught him how to throw a punch properly in case he ever needed to defend himself against his bullies again. 
Wayne, who barged into Hawkins Middle when Eddie came home one day battered and bruised because a gang of older kids had beat him up. The bullying didn’t stop, but it became less frequent after he threatened to see the parents of every single child involved in hurting his boy. 
Wayne, who taught Eddie how to shave and even bought him his own shaving kit so they could shave together the first few times until he got the hang of it. He had a few small nicks and cuts on his cheek and jaw because he wasn’t good at it at first, but Wayne applied band aids with little bats and skulls on them and told him how metal he looked. That was when Eddie first started embracing his love of metal music. 
Wayne, who agreed to take Eddie to buy an electric guitar of his own when he saved up enough from this part-time job he had that he wouldn’t tell him about. He could tell from the smell on is clothes he was probably dealing drugs, and he scolded him for it, but he gave up when Eddie insisted he do it to help pay rent and bills until he could get a real job after high school and ‘look after his uncle properly’. He would give him small bits of change here and there that he could afford to spare to help him save up. When he finally had enough, he drove Eddie to the guitar shop himself and let him pick out his favourite one, taking a photo of him holding it and grinning from ear to ear. 
Wayne, who always referred to Eddie as ‘my boy’ and ‘my son’ when talking to his friends and coworkers. One time, Eddie brought him his packed meal he forgot to take with him and Wayne introduced him to everyone, saying “this here is my son, Edward. Best kid I’ve ever known”. Eddie went back to the trailer afterwards and couldn’t stop smiling. 
Wayne, who Eddie occasionally called him Dad by accident but was never corrected by him. To him, Eddie was his son - his boy - and he couldn’t be prouder to be able to call him that. 
Wayne, who fiercely believed in his son’s innocence when everyone accused him of murder and called him every name under the sun. While the cops were trying to arrest him and the townspeople wanted to hurt him, he wanted to find him and hold him in the tightest hug he could give him because he knew he didn’t do it and he needed his son to know that too. 
Wayne, who mourned for his son when Dustin handed him that guitar pick necklace that Eddie treasured so much. He held it so tight he was afraid to crush it or damage it because it was one of the only things he had left of him apart from that photo he took of him buying that electric guitar, which he kept in his wallet to look at and smile at when he was at work. 
Wayne, who still hopes and preys that his boy is out there and somehow survived the earthquake because Eddie is strong and resilient and he won’t rest until he either finds him alive or is able to bury him and give him the send off he deserves. 
Wayne, who was much more of a dad and father figure to Eddie than his biological father could ever dream to be. 
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fics-n-stuff-n-stuff · 7 months
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Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia
Gray Fullbuster/Juvia Lockser
Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox
all fairy tail characters basically -
Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic
Follows Fairy tail but with my own twists set in modern day / Fluff and Angst / Romance/ Friendship / developing feelings / Lucy has new spirits I checked constellations and gave her ones I thought were cool
Summary
Lucy is thrown into a world she didn’t know existed. Join her as she unravels this new world full of magic that brings adventure, romance and destruction along with it.
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Just a modern re-telling of Fairy tail following its arcs with a few twists and turns along the way💞
You can also read it here
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Chapter 13
Lucy can't remember the last time she spent Christmas surrounded by so much joy, love, and a sense of comradery, probably not since her mother's passing.
She almost didn't want the celebrations to end.
The Christmas party itself lasted for only two days, which was substantially less than Fairy Tail's usual festivities.
But she remembers Levy and Lisanna telling her that they usually go all out for New Year's, and keep Christmas a short and intimate affair.
Short and intimate her ass. They really were a crazy bunch.
Lucy looked down at her hands in her lap, where her right hand was subconsciously tracing the golden bracelet clasped around her left wrist.
Her gift from Natsu.
And not the only gift he'd gotten her.
The present exchange happened on the second day of the celebration when the guild was feeling a bit more sober.
Everyone loved the gifts she had picked out for them.
Erza was impressed by her choice of weapon and said she looked forward to using it in battle. Which made Lucy both happy and a little worried that she actually might try and kill Natsu with it.
Happy seemed more than content with the fish cake she managed to find for him. It was a literal fish cake. Like salmon and rainbow fish arranged as a cake.
Lucy found it a bit gross, but the fur ball loved it, so who was she to judge?
Gray did not find her present as funny as everyone else did, but at least he liked the clothes she bought for him.
Wendy was moved to tears when she opened Lucy's present.
She bawled her eyes out even more when Lucy mentioned to the bluenette that she had written down the herbs and plants Wendy was looking for so she could get them for the younger girl.
Lisanna was also emotional about her present, the take-over mage was moved by the gesture and declared that this was her new favorite set of winter wear.
Mirajane loved the necklace, but her reaction to the pendant attached, and the power behind the necklace was similar to Natsu's. And when Lucy asked about it, the older girl just waved her off and told her she hadn't met everyone in Fairy Tail yet.
Apparently, she'll understand when she does.
Lucy was surprised when she saw tags with her name on them under the tree, she wasn't expecting anyone to get her anything.
There was a voucher for an all-day spa, that she got from Erza and Gray, Lisanna and Mira got her some home utilities she had mentioned needing for her apartment, and Levy got her the same set of books that Lucy had bought for her.
They laughed about it when they realized, and then promised to read the first book in the series and talk about it after the New Year party when things calm down a bit in the guild. Not that Fairy Tail ever truly calms down.
Her complete shock came from Natsu's present.
When Lucy opened his first gift she found a beautiful ruby bracelet inside a box. She fell in love with it the moment she laid eyes on it and found it funny how they both got each other a gold piece of jewelry with rubies.
But that wasn't what shocked her.
Natsu's second present turned out to be Libra, keeper of the Heavenly Scales.
One of the 12 zodiac keys.
He was very excited to give it to her, bouncing on the heel of his feet as he watched her open the gift.
She was taken aback as to how he managed to find it, and Natsu explained how Igneel had it in his hoard, and that the dragon was adamant for him to take the key for his own collection.
Lucy's head went spinning at all the information.
Natsu has a hoard of gold? And he's sharing a part of it with her, is that where he got her bracelet? Does Wendy have one as well?
Along with the implications of Igneel having one of her mother's keys. They must have known each other, must have been friends if her mother left a key in his possessions.
The more time Lucy spent in the Magic world, the more she realized that she never really knew her mother.
Her hand went to clutch the key ring on her hip, counting her spirits in order to calm herself.
Aquarius, Grampa Crux, Virgo, Cancer, Scutum, Libra.
She went back and forth, fidgeting them between her fingers.
"Attention Passengers, this is your captain speaking. We will start our descent to Crocus momentarily, please remain seated and do not remove your seatbelts until the sign is off. Thank you for flying with us, and have a lovely afternoon."
The announcement made her jerk back from her thoughts and she moved to look out the window.
Lucy hasn't stepped foot anywhere near Crocus in a long time. She almost didn't know how to feel.
The rage towards her father was still very much present, but the nostalgia of home was creeping in as she looked down at the Capital of Fiore.
As the plane landed, she made her way to the terminal and out of the airport.
Lucy didn't bring anything with her besides her whip and keys, leaving even her phone at home. Not wanting any distractions and not seeing the point of packing for a one-day trip.
Her plan was to go and confront her father, and be back in the guild before anyone noticed she was gone.
Well, Natsu will notice, but she left a message for him explaining where she was going, and asking him to give her two days. So he'll hopefully stay put and wait for her.
'That's a reasonable expectation for that hot head.' She scoffed at the thought.
Honestly, she didn't know what Natsu would do once he found out.
Something tells her that her partner might hate her father even more than she does, with any luck, the Master or Erza will restrain him and give her the time she asked for.
Filled with determination, Lucy hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address for the Heartfilia mansion.
Ignoring the questioning look from the man in the rearview mirror, Lucy sat back and went over the speech she was going to give her father.
She had plenty of time to think and prepare, given that the Heartfilia estate was located outside of town, and with her landing just before rush hour, it would take them some time to arrive.
'I hope he can forgive me.' Lucy thought to herself as she started to fidget with her bracelet. Natsu would understand her reasoning, but will he forgive her for not telling him beforehand?
She just felt like she needed to do this alone.
It was her problem. Her father.
If Lucy had told him she was leaving, he wouldn't have given her the choice of doing it alone, and she couldn't have that.
Her Father and Natsu being in the same room would probably end up with someone charred or in prison, or both.
No, it was better this way.
Lucy watched the busy city streets turn into a country landscape as they left the city limits and made their way to her former Prison.
She could feel the adrenaline start to kick in as the estate started to be visible. All the memories she repressed, and the ones she hadn't came crashing the nearer they got, leaving Lucy with an array of conflicting emotions.
'Maybe I should've got Natsu to come with me.' She thought as the cab stopped in front of the gates, the mansion looming over them.
"Here we are miss, that will be 700 jewel." The driver said, and Lucy handed him the amount before exiting the car.
She took a deep breath, hoping to calm her beating heart, before taking determined steps towards the gate, her hand moving to ring the intercom.
"Heartfilia residence, how may I help you?" Spetto's voice echoed through the box after a few seconds, and Lucy felt her heart clench at the familiarity of it.
"This is Lucy Heartfilia, here to see her father. I hear he's been looking for me." Her voice was impassive as the words left her mouth.
She heard the older woman gasp over the coms, her voice shaky as she answered. "Oh, my lady! We've all been worried sick!"
There was a buzz, and the gate slowly started opening.
'This is it.' Lucy thought to herself.
Taking a deep breath, she held her shoulders back and head high as she made her way to the house.
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Lucy grimaced as she looked at herself in the mirror.
Her father sent her right to her room the moment he found out she was back. Like she was some kind of petulant child in need of a time-out.
Not even bothering to see her, he sent the staff to fetch her 'proper' clothes to change into.
Lucy had no problem playing dress up if it meant access to her father.
The dress was tight, and constricting her movements, it was pink and fluffy, and while Lucy didn't have anything against pink, or fluffy, being here and having her father ordering her around was her worst nightmare.
She didn't even have a place to put her keys or whip!
Looking at her reflection once more, she narrowed her eyes at the dress, willing it to catch fire spontaneously. 'I really should've brought Natsu with me.'
Huffing the thought away Lucy decided to put the keys in her cleavage and wrap the whip around her thigh.
Figuring that was her safest bet and hoping it wouldn't come to the point where she had to use either of them.
When she finished concealing her weapons, Lucy took a moment to look around her old room.
It was bigger than her apartment back home.
It's funny to think how she never missed this place. Some of the staff? Absolutely. But her father, the home itself, and the luxuries of this lifestyle?
Not once.
The room remained unchanged in the years she was gone, and it looked like it was still regularly cleaned. The closet has been updated to fit her, and it seems like she never even left.
Lucy laughed at the thought.
If he thinks of her as the same feeble and scared girl that left, he has another thing coming.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Spetto's voice.
"His Grace is ready for you My Lady." The words came out somewhat shaky, and Lucy felt her anger intensify, knowing her father frightened the older woman.
She walked over to the door, with all the poise and posture one would expect from a Duchess, and opened the door.
Spetto looked her over and her eyes started welling up with tears. "You look more like her every day." The words were whispered, but Lucy managed to make them out.
Her heart clenched at the thought of her mother.
She moved to embrace the older woman, holding her tight. "Don't you worry Spetto, everything's going to turn out fine." They let go of each other after a few moments, and Spetto moved to wipe her tears.
"Let's not keep your father waiting. He seemed very eager to speak with you."
Lucy's stomach tightened at her words and she balled her fists at her sides. "Oh, I am even more eager to speak with him. I'm sure he's in for a very rude awakening." She said with a humorless laugh.
Spetto looked back at her with a strange, almost knowing look before stopping in front of her father's office door.
Before the woman could move to knock, Lucy turned the door knob herself and walked in, not bothering to greet her father, she turned back to the older woman and gave her a kind smile.
"Thank you for escorting me, Spetto. I'll take it from here." She saw the fear in the older woman's eyes as she closed the door, and Lucy only shot her a wink.
"What is the meaning of this?" Her father's voice made her turn around and finally look at him.
And there he was, sitting behind his desk in one of his pristine suits, papers surrounding him and a glass of whiskey to his right, acting like he hadn't haunted her every step for the last two years.
Like he didn't send a psycho guild after his own blood.
Taking a deep breath she leveled him with her best glare. "Hello, Jude, it's been a while." Lucy ignored his outburst and moved slowly toward the chair in front of his desk, not breaking eye contact as she did. "I have some questions for you."
He moved back into his chair, his brows furrowing in anger at her words."How dare you talk to me like that you-" Lucy raised her hand, stopping his sentence. "It is not your turn to talk. I said I have questions, and I will talk to you however I like, for you are nothing but a pathetic excuse of a parent."
Her voice remained impassive with every step, and she felt proud of herself for keeping her composure when in reality she felt like she was going to vomit.
Her father stared back at her with a stunned expression, as if at a loss for words.
Smirking she continued talking.
"Now let me ask you this, Father, how long did you think you could hide my magical heritage from me?" That seemed to have rocked Jude enough to narrow his eyes at her.
Lucy sat in the chair, legs crossed and arms on each side, raising an eyebrow at him in question.
"What you are is an abomination! I begged your mother to abort you, but she wouldn't have it. I could take her being one of them, but it was magic that killed her, and I will be damned if any child of mine follows that path." Her father raged at her, his voice rising with every word, fist hitting the desk, making everything rattle.
She rolled her eyes at his outburst, knowing he was lying.
Her mother would have never stayed with him if he did that. But she knew his words to be true to the way he felt, and she could not care less.
His opinion of her stopped mattering a long time ago.
"That is not what I asked you. I don't care for your stories or threats, did you really think you could just marry me off and keep me in the dark forever? Did you think I would never find out?" She asked him, voice rising an octave by the end of her sentence and she took a breath to calm herself.
"Mother would hate you for how you have treated me since her death, and how you continue to treat me still." Lucy hissed back at him, moving to stand as she continued.
"I hope you are aware of how revolted she would be by your actions." Her chest was heaving as she said those words, and she watched with satisfaction at the expressions on her father's face shift from rage, to horrified and melancholy, and then back to rage.
"But that is not why I am here today." Lucy said calmly this time, again before he could get a word in.
"I am here to warn you never to come after my family again. This is your only warning, your grace, come after me or Fairy Tail again and I won't be coming to talk next time." She spoke with determination, hoping to get her point across.
Jude started at her in disbelief, he was still sitting behind his desk, fists clutched on the wood.
"You are a stupid, little girl. What did you think was going to happen when you came here and gave me that little speech? Did you think I was going to accept your terms and let you leave?" He laughed as he stood from his chair.
"You are engaged to be wed, the ceremony will take place a week from now. This matter has been settled." He walked around the desk as he spoke.
"I have let you have your fun, but now it's time to grow up. So be a good girl and go to your room, or do I have to lock you in the cellar like old times?" Jude slowly pranced over to where Lucy was standing, trying to intimidate and scare her with his body language and words.
Scoffing at his actions, Lucy went to retrieve her whip, unfurling it with a crack.
"You are heavily mistaken, I am a Fairy Tail Mage Father, and I did not come here to be married. You truly are a fool." Lucy told him as she charged the whip with her magic, and moved her hand to wrap it around his waist, leaving the stunned man immobile with her attack.
Drawing closer to him she got into his personal space. "I am not the one who should be afraid here. You took my memories, my powers, my freedom. And you tried to take away my friends." She finally saw the fear settling on her father's face and snarled at him.
"Are you finally getting it? I am not staying here, you are not marrying me off to someone I do not know, and most importantly." Her glare was sharp, and she twisted her whip to hold him tighter as she spoke her next words. "You will never come after me or my friends again. Or there will be consequences, and next time, I'm not coming alone." Lucy threatened him as she released him from the whip's hold, causing him to stumble to the ground.
"Now, do we have an agreement, father?" Lucy asked with a small smirk, watching Jude try and fail to compose himself as she wrapped the whip around her right wrist.
"We do." He said through grit teeth as he stood up.
"Wonderful, I will be leaving within the hour. I have some things I would like to take with me. I do not want to see you while I'm here, so stay here and do not leave until I do." Lucy told him as she retreated out of his office.
As she went to close the door, she turned to him once more, eyes sharp. "And If I hear you have taken out your anger on one of the staff, I will send someone to return the favor. Tenfold."
Lucy closed the doors, leaving her father behind.
She took a few steps before her knees started to shake, the adrenaline was slowly leaving her body and Lucy started laughing hysterically.
She couldn't believe that worked. Her father agreed to her terms!
And Lucy had scared him!
That made her smile. Natsu would be proud, Erza too.
Getting her footing back, Lucy made her way back to her old room, wanting to change into something less constricting and collect some memorabilia from her mother that she left behind the last time.
"Miss Lucy." She heard Spetto enter her room with a knock as she was packing her things.
"Spetto, I'm sorry for leaving like I did, but he gave me no choice. I didn't mean to worry any of you. And I wanted to write, but I was afraid." Lucy cried as she went to embrace the old woman.
"There, there child. There is no need for tears, you are here now, and I know you're not staying but I am glad to know you are safe and healthy." Spetto hugged her and combed through her hair like she did when Lucy was a little girl.
"I am happy Spetto, I found a wonderful home, and have wonderful people surrounding me." Lucy told the woman as she moved from her arms.
"I can see that my child, and it fills my heart with joy. Your mother wanted nothing but happiness for you."
More tears welled in Lucy's eyes at the woman's words and she brushed them off as they fell.
"I like to think that she would be proud of me." She whispered.
"I know she is." Spetto answered her and Lucy smiled at her. "Thank you, for everything. You are like the grandmother I never had. Please write to me, all of you."
There was a hesitant look on Spetto's face at her words and Lucy clenched her fists, feeling the want to go back and hurt her father for his behavior.
"Don't worry about him. We have an agreement, please promise me you will write!"
"I will write to you Lady Lucy, I promise."
Lucy smiled at the woman before turning back to pack the rest of her things. "I do have something to give you, your mother entrusted me with this."
Lucy turned to see Spetto handing her an ornate box, similar to the ones she got from Makarov and Lucian.
Lucy's heart skipped a beat. 'Could it be?'
"I suggested not opening it here. Wait until you get home." The older woman advised her, and Lucy took the box from her and carefully placed it into the bag she had packed for herself.
"Thank you, Spetto, I hope to see you again soon. Maybe you can come and visit me in Magnolia?" Lucy asked her and the older woman blanched at her proposal.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly!" She started sputtering but Lucy just waved her off with a laugh. "Nonsense, we'll be in touch!"
Lucy slung the bag around her shoulder and went to hug Spetto one last time. "It was really good to see you."
She made her way through the house and to the back gardens, where her mother's grave was.
Who knows if she'll ever be back here, and she wanted to talk to her mom.
She approached the stone sitting in the middle of the small garden, surrounded by her mother's favorite flowers.
There was a bench next to it and Lucy sat on it, facing the grave.
"Hi, Mom." Lucy started hesitantly. "I know it's been a while since I've been here. But I know you understand why." She moved to pick one of the flowers, twirling it in her hands as she gazed around the garden.
"I wish I could talk to you because I have so many questions." She took a deep breath before continuing.
"I know Dad took my memories, and even with them back, the only thing I remember is the spirits themselves. Why didn't you ever tell me about any of this?" There were tears in her eyes at this point, and she moved to wipe them away.
"I met a few of your friends since I learned about magic." She chuckled and moved to caress her guild mark. "I joined Fairy Tail. Makarov is master now and it is such a wonderful place mom, I wish you had told me about your guild. Maybe I'll go and visit it someday."
Lucy smiled at that thought, maybe she could take Natsu and Happy with her, they could take a job near the guild and maybe someone there knew her mother when she was a member.
"I wish you were here to tell me about our magic. It seems everywhere I try to look I find more questions than answers." Lucy sighed, moving to fix the hair falling in front of her eyes.
"I didn't even know that Heartfilia wasn't Dad's last name, but yours! And from what I've gathered it's linked to a magical clan of spirit summoners that all got killed by an evil mage. I just have so many questions, and none of the spirits are offering any answers."
Lucy thought about how she tried to broach the conversation with all of her spirits about her heritage and the things that Scutum hinted at.
Some of them just bluntly told her they couldn't talk about it, i.e. Aquarius and Virgo. While others were either evasive or stubbornly vague and all-around unhelpful.
It was frustrating, she wanted answers dammit!
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Lucy turned to look at the grave in the center of the small garden and sighed, she needed to go.
"I should be heading back, Natsu is probably worried, I left my phone at home so I didn't have any distractions. I'm sure he's going to be pretty pissed." She sighed at that thought as she stood up placing a kiss on her fingers and touching the stone, placing the flower on top of it.
"Bye, mom."
Lucy made her way to the front gates feeling like her steps were lighter than ever. She confronted her nightmare, reunited with Spetto, and got to talk with her mom, it was an all-around success.
'The trip went better than planned.' Lucy smiled at the thought as she went through the gate, turning to watch it close behind her.
It was finally over.
She was free.
"Lushiiii!" Happy's voice broke through the silence making Lucy turn around and gasp at the sight in front of her.
Happy was zooming towards her fast, Erza, Gray, and Natsu hot on his heels.
The exceed plunged into her chest and hugged her tightly. "Why did you leave us Lushi?" He cried up at her and Lucy looked down at him in confusion.
"What are you-"
"Lucy! What is going on? We were worried about you!" She froze at the sound of Erza's voice and lifted her head to look at the trio approaching her.
Erza and Gray in the front, Natsu in the back.
'Uh-oh, this is not good.' A silent Natsu is a pissed Natsu.
She watched as they all stopped a few meters from her, and she could see the worry on their faces.
"I'm sorry guys, I needed to come here and do this alone. I left a message with Natsu, explaining everything and asking you guys to give me 48 hours before coming to look for me, didn't he tell you?" Lucy asked them confused.
"How did you find me anyway? And how did you get here so fast, don't tell me you portaled!"
Erza's expression turned dark at her words and she turned to look at Natsu, one of her eyes twitching. "He never mentioned anything like that, he just said that you were gone and he was sure your father kidnapped you."
The redhead's words were directed towards Lucy, but she growled them while glaring at Natsu.
Said pink-haired idiot just stood there, looking nonchalant and pissed at the same time, his hands behind his head as he shrugged.
"I just had a bad feeling about Lucy going alone, and I knew if I told you her message you wouldn't let me go after her!" He argued, and Lucy saw a vein pop on Erza's forehead.
"You know better than to think!" She moved to hit him on the head, and he went flying back. "That'll teach him." Erza muttered before turning back to Lucy and bowing.
"I apologize for our blunder, we were just all worried and when Master heard you were missing he sent us out to find you."
Lucy felt terrible at Erza's admission and moved to grab the girl and help her stand straight. "No, don't apologize. I'm sorry for leaving like that. I needed to confront him and let him know he could not get away with attacking my friends, and I needed to do it alone."
She emphasized the last part and turned to look back at Natsu who was still ignoring her as he got back on his feet, rubbing his head and adjusting his scarf.
"I had a feeling that if I told any of you I was leaving you wouldn't let me go on my own. I apologize for that. I didn't think you would notice I was gone, it was only supposed to be for one day." Lucy told them her reasoning.
There was a scoff from Natsu at her words, making her turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow, urging him to share his thoughts.
"Don't be stupid, of course we noticed! Your barstool was empty when I got in this morning." Gary answered instead, and Lucy turned to look at the half-naked man.
When did he lose his shirt?
She looked back and forth between him, Erza and Natsu, and then down at Happy who was still in her arms.
The exceed nodded his head at her, and Lucy was stunned.
She honestly didn't think anyone besides Natsu would notice she was gone for the day. It was going to take some time to get used to the fact that there were people who cared about her well-being.
"We got Levy to locate where the Heartfilia estate was the moment Natsu came barging in shouting about your disappearance." Erza told her, sending her a smile.
"You guys, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry for worrying everyone." Lucy was holding back her tears, not wanting to cry anymore today. But knowing she had people who would miss her if she were to leave was enough for her eyes to water.
"Just don't pull something like this again." Erza told her sternly, and Lucy nodded her head. "I won't."
"Good, now let's get back to the portal so everyone can relax and know you're safe." Gray chimed in as he made his way back to where they came from.
Erza followed behind him after a few seconds of looking between Lucy and Natsu.
The redhead shot Lucy a smile and a wink, making the blonde blush, before going after Gary.
There was a moment of silence before Happy wiggled out of her hands and dropped to the ground, landing on his feet. "Well, I'm gonna go and make sure they don't get lost." He mumbled as he left the two of them alone.
Natsu was turned to the side not looking at her, his hands crossed over his torso, chin buried in his scarf as he continued to ignore her.
"Are you not going to say anything?" Lucy asked the pouting drakon after a few more silent moments.
There was a huff, and he turned to look at her. "I don't know what ya want me to say."
"Look, I didn't mean to leave without a word, well okay I did." He shot her a look and she wanted to facepalm at her stupidity. "It's not like that, I just knew that if I told you, you wouldn't have let me come alone." Lucy moved closer to him as she tried to explain, moving her hands so that they were gripping his shoulders.
"I thought about bringing you, but I felt like it wasn't a good idea to have you and my dad in the same house. And I felt like I needed to do this alone." He opened his mouth, and she moved her hand to cover it, knowing what he was going to say.
"I know I don't have to do it alone. And going forward I don't want to do anything like that alone, but this was my battle to finish. I need you to understand that it had nothing to do with our friendship, partnership, or the trust I have in you."
Lucy let the hand fall from his mouth and looked straight into his eyes as she finished her proclamation. Hoping he would understand, and forgive her.
There was a tense moment of silence between them, a moment where they started each other down, neither willing to back out.
Lucy's heart was beating erratically as she waited for Natsu to say something, anything.
Instead of words, he chose action, which shouldn't have surprised Lucy as much as it did.
One second they were having an intense staring contest, and the next Natsu's forehead was bumping against hers and she felt his breath fan over her face as he let out a laugh.
"I forgive ya, ya weirdo. I was just scared when I saw you were gone and then bummed because I thought you didn't trust me. But I know better now." He smiled down at her and Lucy's heart clenched at his words.
"I trust you more than anyone." She mumbled smiling shyly at her admission.
Natsu's hands wrapped around her waist and he went to pull her into a hug when a voice brought them back to reality.
"Oy, lovebirds, come on we don't have all day!" Gray's voice cut their moment short, making Natsu let go of Lucy, who was blushing like a cherry at the ice mage's words.
"Fuck off, stripper!" Natsu shouted back at him, shooting a glare in his direction before turning to offer Lucy his hand.
"Let's go, everyone in the guild is worried sick." He pulled her into a run the moment her hand entwined with his making Lucy giggle as they made their way towards their friends.
"And whose fault is that? I told you to wait 48 hours!" Lucy shot back playfully.
"Hey! You're the one who ran off without bringing her phone to confront the man who almost got you killed!" He argued back and Lucy heard their onlookers laugh at their argument.
"He's got you there Lucy!" Happy chimed in with a laugh, and Lucy joined in their hysterics.
Looking around at all of her friends, she felt glad they were here with her. It was nice having someone to laugh with after all of that.
3 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 1 year
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Ryen you absolutely spoil us! You work too damn hard for us and I speak for all of us when I say we love and appreciate your hard work. 😘 Babe this was such a good addition to 3tan. Not only was this hot as hell, but showing the insecurities Reader has about having a man, but not having a man was so... 😭 I'm so glad Reader has Dom. Then Yoongi taught her that lesson though that she is dead wrong.
Also, this reminded me of sneaking boyfriends into my own bedroom window in HS 😂
When reader thought "your heart has got to keep it together" I was like same! He bought her a necklace, promised a trip back to pick out a charm, and then gave her his own chain that Reader happened to buy Yoongi a matching bracelet for so now they have a secret matching set????? Stob it!
I love that Readers confidence is finally catching. We love growth. 💕 Telling Yoongi I want to make you forgot your name too and "Make me, Bitch." Girl yes! Make your man crumble.
Question? The part when Yoongi snatches her throat and Reader is so far gone talking about how she likes when he's mad, that it makes Yoongi snap out of it to check on her. Is that because he's just so taken aback by just how feral he's made her that he was a little shocked? 👁️👄👁️
"Hands off" disintegrated me 🫠 Reader being completely undressed with Grammy Yoongi towering over her?????? Ryen... Honey... This visual is... Holy fuck! Yoongi absolutely gave Reader his signature snarl as he said this. 🥵
I cheered when that door closed and they finally unleashed on each other, but oh I love that Tae and Jimin heard them. 😜
The last little bit where Yoongi flips Reader over and slows the pace down had me soft 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I love them so much and want the world for them. Feel free to answer this or not if the answer is a spoiler, but when Yoongi says, “God, I can’t wait to feel all of you.” What's holding them back? I don't think a reason has been mentioned unless I missed something.
oh gosh.. finally getting to answering reviews that were sent in dayssss ago!! thank you so much for the wonderful words, love. i have been taking a real break this time, if y'all haven't noticed LOL this chapter was unexpected - while fun, it took me out mentally dkfjdkslf
all the things you mentioned about reader and dom? yes. i agree! this was yet another chapter highlighting the good and bad of human emotions. at least, that's how i wanted to go about it. there are people that understand reader and yoongi, and there are others that aren't happy with either one of them. which is the point! it's all human stuff.
and them both showing their affection and devotion in different ways was so cute to write out. and the imagery of yoongi dressed like that while reader does all that? a ha ha i couldn't resist in the least!!🥵 it was def a snarl moment and i for one didn't survive that scene :)))
the damn vmin sidenote was hilarious to include at the end HAHA maybe i'll end up making a drabble from their pov. and the slow mo?? helllllll yeah. that was yet another fun addition to write and i'm glad it's being well-received! as far as the reason for your end question.. they're just being responsible lol
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steezywrites · 1 year
Text
The Crown of the Morally Grey
Part 4.
Remember this is also being posted on Ao3 under the same title and username killaprevail ! I’m also taking requests and will be making a character list you can request for a bit later!
Warning: mention of kidnapping for like 2 lines dialogue.
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Diagon Alley was grey. Most of the stores were empty, occasionally someone would walk by on their way up to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, but the life had been sucked out of everywhere else. It was haunting. The Diagon Alley Y/n remembered was full of life, too loud for her liking and always busy this time of year. Y/n knew Mr. Ollivander had gone missing, these days meaning he’d most liking been kidnapped and possibly killed by Death Eaters. She tried to act as if his empty, ransacked store didn’t have an effect on her, but she stared at the windows of the shop far too long.
“Y/n?”
Narcissa’s voice pulled her out of the trance she’d gone into while staring through shop windows. Being here with Draco and his mother should have felt nostalgic, they’d done it nearly every summer before school, but it didn’t. It was clear her childhood had ended. It crashed over her like an oceans storm, suffocating with the promise of drowning. Whenever the rare kid would pass by, arms full of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, she couldn’t help but wonder if the storm had reached them yet.
She didn’t know when Draco had grabbed her hand, but he squeezed it once. She’d dreamt before about it; visiting Diagon Alley with Draco’s hand in hers as she pulled him from shop to shop, but this wasn’t the circumstances she wanted. It wasn’t a circumstance Draco belonged in. He nodded at her, and she pulled him forward, keeping him just a step behind her as they turned down Knockturn Alley.
The usual residence of Knockturn Alley had even dulled. An occasional witch or Wizard gave them a slimy grin, but weren’t nearly as aggressive about it as she was used to. Typically whenever she visited the alleyway, she could barely walk without having some one in her face, disgusting intentions hidden behind uncomfortable compliments. Even her fathers presence hadn’t swayed them. There had been a year where a particularly nasty wizard had grabbed her arm and tried to pull her around a corner, touching her hair and keeping his eyes locked on her. She’d been thirteen at the time, lost in her fascination with the dark aura of the alley. Luckily, her father had caught sight of the encounter and shoved the wizard back with a stupefy to the chest. It had been during that trip that she bought the cursed necklace and her father had begun hammering defensive and offensive spells into her head. She hasn’t heard about the Unforgivables until then, but Severus had made sure she knew of their existence and uses. At the time, she figured he was letting her know for her own protection, but now, the killing curse seemed far too relevant for that to have been the only reason.
She wondered if her father had seen this future for her. Had he always known she’d become a spy too? He must have known she’d find herself walking to Borgin and Burkes again, but under what circumstances? Was it possible he and Dumbledore had been meaning to have her infiltrate the Death Eaters they long? She couldn’t believe her father would, but it was becoming increasingly obvious Dumbledore pulled more strings than she could tie.
The sound of someone’s foot scuffing the hard ground made her look behind her, and she saw three figures standing at the opening to Knockturn Alley, their silhouettes too familiar for her liking.
“Draco.” She whispered.
“Our best friends are following us.”
Draco glanced behind them before wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist and picking up their pace down the set of stairs that lead into Borgin and Burkes. Of course Harry Potter and his dogs had followed after them. Seeing Draco, Narcissa and Y/n walking towards the infamous street was probably like candy to the hero complex poster children. They had always turned up whenever anything worth while was happening. Y/n could remember the countless times they had followed her, adamant she was up to no good so Harry could tell Dumbledore about his suspicion of the girl.
When the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, Harry immediately kept an eye on the young Snape and Malfoy, as if a pair of twelve year olds had been behind the whole thing. Y/n couldn’t blame Harry for his suspicions though. Her and Draco had been terrors and she was Professor Snapes daughter, someone who managed to make himself look suspicious simply by existing. She found the whole thing humorous now. This time they were right about whatever suspicions they had. Suddenly the trip to her beloved store felt even more exciting, like a game she was playing with Potter. Hermione Granger had consistently told Potter he was wrong about Y/n, that she wasn’t like her father at all and everything was just coincidental. At one time, Y/n found Hermione’s words as condescending, angered the girl didn’t think she could manage any of the things she was accused of by Potter or Ronald Weasley, but now she hoped Granger’s false perception came in handy.
Borgin and Burkes always took a minute to take in. The walls and shelves were lined with dozens of artifacts that pulled Y/n in. It smelled like dust and a sickly sweet poison. The familiarity of the store eased the ocean storm as she smiled at the shop keeper softly.
“My favorite customers. I have even more than usual. All kinds have been turning up to hand over their possessions since You-Know-Who has returned.” The shopkeeper, Borgin smiled, his eyes narrowing in at Y/n as he began to pull objects out to show her. His youngest customer he would call her, a proud gleam in his eye whenever she entered the shop.
“We’re here for one thing specifically this time, but I’ll still look around.”
He seemed pleased by her words and nodded. Draco headed straight for a large black cabinet, his fingers grazing it’s surface before calling Y/n over.
“It’s a vanishing cabinet. It’s sister is at Hogwarts.”
“Montague got stuck between the two last year didn’t he?” Y/n asked, remembering Draco telling her about their fellow Slytherin’s rather terrifying experience. He had gotten stuck between the two, unable to come out from Hogwarts side as the cabinet at Hogwarts was broken.
“So we fix the cabinet at Hogwarts and..”
“Mr. Borgin.” As soon as Y/n said his name, the man hurried over to the pair, a wicked grin on his face.
“Yes Miss Snape?”
“Could you keep this here for me?”
“Of course, anything for my favorite customer, but… Mr. Malfoy…”
Draco hissed and pulled up his sleeve, exposing the dark tattoo on his arm to Mr. Borgin. Y/n hadn’t seen it before, Draco kept it hidden under long sleeves and sweaters. The skull and snake were so undeniably real across his pale skin. It moved subtly, the skin around it looked raw and burnt not having healed fully yet. She’d seen Draco hold his arm every so often over the past few days, his eyes became distant whenever he did. The knowledge that she too would most likely gain one in the following months made her glance at her own arm for a moment, wondering if it would look as nasty on her own skin.
Mr. Borgin’s smile grew even more wicked as he nodded.
“Thank you Mr. Borgin. What else do you recommend?”
Mr. Borgin walked Y/n around the shop, showing her the new things he had come to collect. A few things had caught her eye, a dagger that still had unicorn blood stained on its blade, a rather pretty tiara that had spikes on the inner parts of its headband, and a pair of rings he hadn’t described to her.
“What are these?” She asked, eyes locking on the black and emerald pieces of jewelry.
“Those are soul rings. If two people were to wear them at the same time, they could feel eachothers heartbeat and location, occasionally thoughts depending on the bond.”
“Why are they here?“
“Rings like this were often used by captive and captor.”
Y/n hummed and glanced at Draco.
“What’s the catch?”
“Always the wiser, Miss Snape. They can’t be taken off. The captor and captive will have them forever, unless their fingers are cut off. These pair here have some residual blood on them.”
“Ring them up for me.”
Draco and Y/n had returned to her home on Spinner’s end. It was even gloomier than usual, and Y/n betwitched a tea kettle to heat up some water.
Draco sat on a chair in the living room, a book he’d stolen from the restricted section of the school library the year before in his lap. The book kept whispering in Latin as he turned the pages.
“I bought something else at Borgin and Burkes.” Y/n smiled as she sat on the arm of his chair, earning a raised eyebrow.
“I figured you had. What was it this time?”
Y/n pulled out the two rings from her pocket and handed him one.
“They’re soul rings. If we both wear them, we’ll be able to feel each others heartbeat and know eachother location.”
“I never took you for a romantic” Draco snorted and slipped the ring on his ring finger. Draco hands with rings was something Y/n had decided to not think about in that moment.
“I thought it might be nice for this upcoming year.”
“What’s the catch? You bought them from Borgin there must be something wrong with them.”
“And yet you put it on without a second thought.”
“You wouldn’t purposely curse me.”
“You sure about that?” A smirk crossed Y/N’s face as Draco rolled his eyes at her.
“What’s their story?”
“They were used by captors to keep an eye on their captives.”
“And who’s do I have?”
“I’m not sure, I can’t tell them apart.”
Liar.
Draco didn’t question it, instead studying the piece of jewelry. He flexed his hand a few ways as if getting used to the sight and looked up at Y/n.
“Looks like we’re married now.”
Y/n slipped the Captors ring on her ring finger and wiggled her fingers to show it off.
“Til death do us part.” She laughed, relishing in the possessive feeling that had begun to creep up on her.
Being possessive of Draco was nothing new, but the rings seemed to only further the feeling. A few girls at Hogwarts had tried to make a move on him, some had succeeded in their seduction but never for very long. Draco seemed to get bored or cut it off whenever some else began to show Y/n any special attention. They didn’t talk about it.
“What will I tell all of my boyfriends now?” Y/n teased. Draco growled and pulled her off the arm of the chair and into his lap.
“You don’t have any boyfriends.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I’ve scared them all off.”
“Maybe I’ll send Potter an owl.”
“You’re such a little shit.” Draco began tickling Y/n until she nearly screamed and managed to get off of him, running towards her room.
Draco followed, the ring on his finger beating excitedly.
“You can’t hide Snape.”
“I think im managing just fine.”
“You’re standing behind the door.”
There was a scuffle and footsteps from behind the door for a moment.
“No I’m not.”
Draco wouldn’t help but chuckle in amusement and opened the door. It was silent and he quickly put on his defenses, fully expecting to be ambushed when the image of a dark, smaller room full of clothes popped up on his mind. His ringed finger twitched and he walked slowly towards Y/N’s closet.
“You suck at this.”
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luxmaeastra · 2 months
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Juniper pouted at him, running a hand through her hair.
"Its too hot."
He grinned, teeth running down her neck, licking at the sweat between her breasts.
"I don't think I ever enjoyed the heat as much as I do now Juniper."
She arched into his touch, pulling at his neck to drag him on top of her. He held her wrists down, gazing down at her.
He had made a Mating Den when he'd been young, the urge hadn't left him alone and he'd had to built one. He never used it, nor had taken Dianna to it.
Perhaps that's why she couldn't stand the more formal manor he'd built. That had Dianna's scent all over it. His hands slid up her arms, running up her neck.
"She will be delt with, Seraphine gave me a brilliant idea to keep her useful but far from us."
------
Seraphine bit her lip and looked to Estelle and then back to Persephone who smirked into her drink. Seraphine bit back a sigh, if Estelle insisted on knowing, fine.
She leaned back in her chair, looking to Leesan at the window.
"Do you have ties to Hewn?"
Leesan eyes narrowed and he shook his head.
"No. Why? Should I?"
"I convinced Kaden to sell the Turned to Hewn. She'll be sent to the fighting pits and make him a pretty penny. I think her sister will be sent as a healer or something. Any unmated males you have could have fun there. Tersa, is always looking for new blood."
Leesan snorted and looked back to the window.
"I thought Juniper would have killed her already."
"Dianna is apparently a good asset, if I wasn't loyal I would have bought her myself."
She looked to Estelle and then to Persephone, moonstone earrings shinning as she leaned over to grab her wine glass.
"Have you gone to Hewn yet?"
Persephone shook her head, seemingly non-pullsed that a female she'd never met, who had probably not done anything wrong was being discarded so easily.
Leesan had worked hard not to Mask around Estelle, she loved him. She chose him when he'd been at his worst - he would honor her choice.
"Is the sister Turned? Or Valg?"
"Valg I believe."
Seraphine said watching Leesan step toward them. He sat on the arm of Estelle's chair.
"If Rhys has a Caritas Orb we could have actually made this interesting. Fighting her own Fated? I would have placed money on it."
Seraphine threw her head back and laughed, teeth flashing. The moonlight highlighting the long collumn of her throat and the necklace of Ivory encased bones around it.
//We have a name for the fated mate orb thing. Caritas means Love in Latin! For Estelle and Rhys. Mostly Estelle//
Was she wrong to insist on being informed? Did they think her some fragile flower who would turn on them because she didn’t like something? Estelle looked towards her twin, trying to get a read of the situation. She had thought she had made progress with Seraphine, that their relationship was good.
She glanced towards Leesan when the question was asked of him. Then it all made sense, it really was because they thought she would not approve of their actions, right? Her jaw tightened slightly, tampering her annoyance as she looked back towards the two whom she was sitting near.
Her mother had not raised her to be squeamish or docile, Day was not the pinnacle of morality as they accepted sometimes hard choices had to be made for the betterment of everyone. She had manned her own soldiers long enough to know that life wasn’t fair.
Wasn’t that similar to the Dens? Leesan had been teaching her, explaining that sometimes it was the betterment of the Den they had to consider. That sometimes you had to do things which seemed downright wicked.
“You’ll get used to it Elle.” Rhysand spoke as he put a hand on her shoulder. He smiled before she moved to make his way to Seraphine’s side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He knew the curious mind of his cousin. He also knew Seraphine’s apprehension. She seemed to have bonded better with Persephone than Estelle, which saddened him a little because he was closer with the latter, but he was glad she was trying.
When the question of going to Hewn was asked, Estelle shook her head. “It’s one of the few places I have not visited.” She responded honestly. She felt an ease come over her when Leesan came to sit on the same of her chair, her hand moved to rest upon his knee as she listened to the conversation between them.
“I don’t like to meddle too much with the fighting pits, I don’t want to be accused of rigging something,” Rhysand admitted with a shrug. “But it would be an interesting match to watch.”
“Would it be meddling if you found the Fates and sent them tho?” Estelle offered. “I mean, it’s not as if finding the Fated would rig the match in the favour of one way.”
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golbrocklovely · 2 years
Note
So fans that ship Colby and she who shall not be name and also obsessed over she gave him her cross necklace to wear and started all this they must be dating when they was in Zak haunted museum and thought he was still wearing her cross will get a big shock as the cross he has been wearing his own cross necklace that he has a for a long time has broken 😞 so he not be wearing hers cross all this time
lovely anon, gonna be honest, i'm having a bit of a hard time understand what you're writing here.
the cross necklace that stas gave colby was that one that just broke that he posted on snapchat. stas ended up letting colby keep that one and she just bought a new one for herself (her words, so do with that info as you will).
assumingly, since this one broke, maybe colby will go buy himself a new one.
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avenirdelight · 2 years
Text
In Every Colour
Marcus Rashford
She doesn’t feel pretty in her new green dress and Marcus tries to assure her that she looks beautiful in everything.
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Marcus was ready to go. Black shirt, black leather jacket, black pants, black shoes with gold accents, gold watch, a small silver necklace—he looked perfect. They still had some time before they needed to leave for a party, so he decided to check on some e-mail, as he sat on the bed with his laptop laid in front of him.
But Marcus kept shifting his attention between the laptop screen and the woman standing in front of the mirror across the room. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
She was also ready to go. She’d chosen a green sequin dress tonight. She didn’t normally wear sparkly things, so this was a bit new for Marcus, but he really loved how the dress looked on her. The green colour looked so good on her skin and the shade made her face look fresh and brighter.
But even when Marcus was done reading his e-mail, which took him no more than ten minutes, she was still standing in the same position—eyes still in her own reflection in the mirror as she kept turning around while she kept her hands busy with her dress. Marcus guessed that there was something wrong, because she never spent this long in front of the mirror.
Marcus shut down his laptop and put it back on top of the table beside his bed where it belonged. That was when her voice called; Marcus responded with a questioning hum and raised eyebrows.
“Do we still have five minutes?” she asked.
Marcus glanced at his watch. “Yeah, why?”
“Okay, I’m just gonna–” She said as she began to take off her 3-inch black heels. “I’m gonna change my dress for a minute, I’ll be quick–”
“Wait, what? No, no, no, baby, hang on a second,” Marcus tried to stop her with his words. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, it’s just...” She paused and sighed, looking at her own reflection again. There was a look on her face, but whether it was annoyance or dissatisfaction, Marcus wasn’t sure. “I thought I looked good in this dress but now... I don't like how it really falls, it makes me look ridiculous,” she huffed. “And the colour’s too bright, I’d look like walking bushes.”
“I… Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Marcus gave her half a shrug as he slightly shook his head, walking up to her. When he stopped right behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Babe, you look beautiful. Isn’t this the new dress you’ve been wanting to wear?”
“Yes, but now I don’t even know why I bought it.”
Marcus scanned her reflection on the mirror from head to toe. Her face was perfectly brushed with light makeup, her hair was perfectly done, and the dress hugged her body beautifully. He was one hundred and one percent sure that she looked way more than okay.
“I promise you, you look beautiful,” he assured her. “You look beautiful in everything.”
“Not true.”
“True. Why do you think I married you?”
There was a silence that briefly took over, leaving Marcus’ words hanging in the air. Her eyes darted to Marcus’ eyes in the mirror. He looked away before stepping aside; his hands went to his jacket, making some unnecessary fixes.
“What do you mean?” The mixture of confusion and curiosity was clear in her face. But Marcus didn’t answer so she nudged him, demanding his attention back on her.
He did give her his attention again and she raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking him to speak up. He sighed before reaching for her hand. Curiosity was building up on her as he walked both of them to the bed. He sat himself down. Her hands found their way to circle around his neck as she stood in between his legs.
“When I was a kid, I went to David’s birthday party. You know my cousin David,” he began as he looked up at her and she nodded. “Aunt Gina, his mum, wore this shimmery yellow dress. He hated the dress and made a comment about it.”
She slightly furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why Marcus was suddenly telling her a childhood story, in a more serious tone. She didn’t know where it was going but she was listening very carefully, as she felt Marcus’s hands travelled to her waist and stayed there.
“And Uncle Daniel heard it. Uncle Dan said that she looked beautiful but David couldn’t agree. After a little debate between them, Uncle Dan said…” Marcus paused as he stared at her, making sure that she was all ears. Taking a small intake of breath, he continued, “‘When you’re older, find someone who looks beautiful in everything she wears. When you don’t like yellow but she makes you think that yellow is the prettiest colour in the world, she’s the one.’”
She bit her lower lip. She wasn’t sure why her heart started to race, but she had never heard about this story before, and it was definitely touching her.
“I don’t know why but those words just stuck with me. And when I met you, I got to figure out what he meant.” A subtle smile had made its way to his face. “You wore green on our third date. You know I hate green. But you looked incredibly gorgeous that night, so cute in your green blouse, and since then, I love green.”
She was clearly getting a little bit emotional. Her eyes said it all—they were getting sweaty with tears. She briefly looked up and blinked her eyes a few times, trying to shake the tears away, before meeting Marcus’ fond gaze again.
“And I genuinely think that you look so beautiful in this green dress,” Marcus said as he admired her from head to toe. “You’re gorgeous, baby.”
And at that exact moment, she realised that she had married the right person. Marcus, who loved her and would love everything she loved.
Marcus didn’t only love green for her, which was a big deal remembering that he'd let her paint their whole kitchen sage green, but he also loved her even when she couldn’t. Especially at times like this, where she felt insecure of herself, Marcus would always assure her that to him, who was the most important person in her life, she would always be the most beautiful.
“You’ve never told me that story before…” she whispered. “So you knew you were going to marry me on our third date?”
Marcus let out a little chuckle as he pulled her closer by her waist. “Maybe I did. Well, I had never seen someone like you, I knew you’d be special.”
She smiled as she leaned down for a kiss. He loved that her lips tasted like cherry. She giggled after she pulled away, brushing her thumb on his lips to clean her smeared lip gloss off them.
“This dress is okay, but I’m just not feeling comfortable…” she said. Most of the time Marcus’ words would boost her confidence a bit, but even after everything that he’d just told her, she still didn’t feel like she should wear the dress she was wearing now. She didn’t like how it fell around her chest and belly, but she was more worried about how the fabric felt itchy against her skin; she knew she’d be bothered by it for the rest of the night.
“Then maybe you should change. Being comfortable is the most important thing, innit?”
She nodded. “Okay. I just need five minutes, I promise.”
“I’ll wait for you downstairs, okay?”
“Help me zip down my dress first?” she asked as she turned around, lifting up her hair. Marcus stood up, unbuttoned the little diamond button on the back of her neck and zipped the zipper down, exposing her back. Marcus playfully slipped his hand on her shoulder and bent down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder, and the gesture made her giggle.
“I’ll wear red for you tonight,” she turned around again. A playful smile was painted on her face. “Should I just wear that red dress you like?”
“Don’t try to test me now,” Marcus warned. She looked beautiful in everything, but he could never resist her in red—red was the sexiest colour on her, she’d always look so stunning. Marcus wouldn’t be able to take his eyes and hands off her if she wore that dress he liked.
“I may wear red lipstick as well,” she winked as she walked away to the wardrobe.
Marcus bit the bottom of his lips, shaking his head. In anything, she would always look beautiful. He really wouldn’t mind seeing her wear green every day, or any colour that would become her next favourite colour. She looked pretty in every colour and you would always hear him saying that she was the prettiest woman in his eyes.
[please leave comments and feedbacks? here or on asks, i’d be very happy to read it. thank you!]
this piece was started from  "you look pretty in everything" / "not true" / "true. why do you think i married you?" that randomly popped up in my mind, and i knew i had to write it. was debating whether i have to write it for marcus or for tyrone, but i have a tyrone angst on process so i went with marcus!
that "when you don’t like yellow but she makes you think that yellow is the prettiest colour in the world, she’s the one." was inspired by someone who told their story about them not knowing what their favourite colour was, but since their partner liked yellow, they thought that yellow was the prettiest. it was a pretty viral post, maybe you've seen it going around.
reading that post and writing this piece made me wish i'd find my person soon..........
My Masterlist🤍
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rere-the-writer · 3 years
Text
Title- 'To win her back'
A part two to this request
a part three - ????
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons
You were surprisingly happy after a good cry when the Mikaelsons left. You thought over Elijah's words wondering if you could truly forgive them. You stood huffing as Ryan rush to your side worry written over his face.
"You okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine I am just tired." You tell him as Ryan smiled softly taking you to bed. Marcel thought it would be a good time to visit you a month after your lovers found you.
"So all that is from them?" Marcel asked taking the cup of tea from you as you sat down looking at the boxes. Since the Originals found you and did as you asked it didn't stop them from sending gifts and things for your baby. Rebekah sent baby clothes, Kol sent toys, Klaus would send paintings he did while Elijah began paying your bills not trusting Ryan to keep you living comfortable.
"Yes. Their way of apologizing, showering me with gifts." You said having not open any of them though you couldn't stop Elijah from paying the bills.
"How is the little guy?"
"Heathly, him and his twin brother." You tell your best friend watching him light up touching your belly smiling.
"Wow twins. That amazing."
"It is....how are they?" You couldn't help but ask as Marcel leaned back thinking how things were back in New Orleans. Things were tense between the Mikaelsons and Hayley as they blamed themselves for you leaving and Hayley was trying to get them to let you go.
"Well they are tensed with Hayley and a little jealous that you let Freya visit." Marcel tells you as you sighed it was true you only allowed Freya to come up to see you so the only way your lovers knew that you were okay was though her and Marcel.
"Tense with Hayley? Why?"
"Well other than blaming themselves for you leaving, they also blame Hayley." Marcel says as you thought over what he said. You knew from what Freya told how they were doing Klaus dosen't really leave his art studio, Rebekah and Kol sleeps in your bedroom and Elijah ignores Hayley spending his time looking though your photo album.
"I see. Well I got a doctor's appointment."
"Right. See you again soon." Marcel said hugging you walking out with you.
"Yeah Mar."
You huffed feeling annoyed seeing dozen red roses on your door and picked the box. You reading the card seeing it was from Kol and you put the roses in a vase while doing so you noticed two empty glasses of wine.
"What the?" You muttered walking seeing pair of women panties that you knew wasn't yours. You realize what was happening as you marched to the the bedroom finding Ryan in bed with his secretary.
"RYAN! Are you fucking kidding me!" You shouted surprising the lawyer and his secretary. You eyes narrowed seeing the gorgeous necklace around the woman's necklace and realized it was one that Rebekah sent as an apology.
"Gifting her my jewelry?!" You shouted at him throwing a picture frame at him as the secretary ylep.
"Baby listen it was an accident."
"An accident?! Get the fuck out of my home and you take my jewelry off!"
"Baby! I'll be out on the street!" Ryan said giving you a puppy dog look as the secretary scrabble to take the jewelry off and got dress. You crossed your arms glaring at Ryan who look pathetic pleading for you to not throw him out.
Elijah was walking down stairs knowing how quiet it was with Klaus up in his art studio, Kol spending all his time with Freya and Rebekah had yet to really leave your bedroom. Hayley came in stopping seeing Elijah and made an attempt to talk to the Original as he had been cold to everyone that wasn't family.
"Elijah, you can't keep ignoring me."
"What do want me to do Hayley? Come running to you? Seek comfort from the one thing that reminds me of the pain I cause to the woman I truly loved?"
"Wow. I hope you say it to her face." Elijah looked up seeing you standing there with a baby sling that held twins. Elijah's breathing hitched finding you just gorgeous dressed in a long sundress hair cut short.
"Y/N?" Elijah whispered finding it hard to believe you were standing there as Rebekah had heard Elijah say your name with Klaus and Kol.
"You guys act like you have seen a ghost." You teased as Rebekah reached you first worried you'll pull away but was glad you let her hug you.
"Are you back for good?"
"I sure hope so because I didn't drive a truck load of stuff for nothing." You said noticing how nervous they were around you as if it was your first night with them all over again.
"You came back to us." Elijah said watching you being lead to the den by Rebekah. They followed after as you frowned noticing the dust on things as you took a good look at your lovers.
Marcel and Freya wasn't kidding when they told you that the others weren't doing well. Each of them looked as if they weren't really feeding, Elijah wasn't dressed in a clean suit, Rebekah looked a bit duller, Klaus looked scruffy with paint on his clothes and Kol was just as dull as Rebekah.
"Well I thought seven months in your mistake was enough." You say sitting down with Rebekah sitting next to you. They looked seeing the twin boys that was asleep.
"So you came back to throw it their faces that you are happier."
"No Hayley. Truthfully I missed you all so I came home it would be unfair to keep Oilver and Henrik from their family." You said as they stared and Elijah swallowed walking over kneeling letting Kol take the other side of you and Klaus stood behind you.
"You named one of our boys after our little brother?"
"Yeah to honor Henrik." You say softly letting them get a better look at the sleeping boys. Hayley crossed her arms staring at you.
"So what hoping to move back in like nothing happened?"
"No. I bought the town house across the street. I forgive them but I am not ready to move back in." You tell Hayley as Oliver woke whining getting your attention. You had Rebekah take a still sleeping Henrik as you fed Oilver.
"How old are they?"
"A month in a half." You answered Kol watching Oliver latch onto you to eat. Elijah was in awe staring at his sons noticed how much Oliver and Henrik looked like him but he was glad they had your nose.
"Baby, as much as we would love for you move back in if there was one thing we learned was. Let you do what you need."
"I am not going to keep the boys from you all unlike some people but I need time before we jump back into this."
"Take all the time you need love. We can wait a thousand years if needed." Klaus says softly rubbing your shoulders. They were happy you let them touch you and was every willing to go as slow as you wanted.
"You want to hold him, Elijah?" You asked when Oilver was done and Kol fix you up. Elijah held his arms out as you placed the wake Oilver in his arms.
"Henrik is smaller than his brother." Rebekah said handing you the sleeping baby as you smiled softly.
"There was a bit of trouble during childbirth. I mean Hen is heathly he'll be fine." You tell them noticing the worry on their faces.
"Are you guys really okay with her just coming back?! After all the pain she put you all in?" Hayley walking in as you stood up getting the twins comfortable in the sling.
"Clearly you guys need to work things out with Hayley. I'll be across the street." You said walking out missing the glares the Mikaelsons gave Hayley. Marcel helped you bring your things inside with Josh and Davina.
"They are cute." Davina said watching over Henrik and Oilver who were wake in baby swings. You smiled opening boxes looking at your boys.
"Yeah they sure got the cute Mikaelson baby genes." You tell Davina as Josh and Marcel brought in the last of the boxes.
"I'm glad you're back. Me and Josh missed you."
"You guys could have visited with Marcel."
"Yeah but someone had to make sure the Mikaelsons take care of themselves."
"Was it really that bad?" You asked looking at them as Davina sighed.
"I am not going to lie to you. Yes it was Y/N, they were a mess. Marcel had to watch over the city."
"Hell they barely let Hayley in the Abattoir unless she was dropping Hope off." Josh tells you as you looked out the window looking across the way staring at the Abattoir.
"Freya never told me how bad it was."
"Because we agreed that you should come back home on your own not because of guilt." Marcel tells you as you looked at them while you were glad that they wanted you to come back on your own. You wished they told you how they really were doing.
Later that evening Klaus stopped by with Elijah and you let them in as they noticed you were in one of Klaus's old shirts and sweatpants.
"Unpacking love?"
"Yeah if you guys didn't send so much I wouldn't be still unpacking." You tease lightly as Klaus smirked while Elijah knelt down in front of the boys. Oliver was reaching for Elijah's hand and he let the boy grab his hand.
"Where is Kol and Rebekah?"
"Getting you dinner." Klaus said moving to help you unpack while Elijah was playing with boys.
"Where is Ryan?"
"Back in New York. Caught him sleeping with his secretary."
"Sorry to hear the love." Klaus says rubbing your back as you chuckled leaning into him.
"It's okay. Ryan wasn't you guys...he didn't have that same warmth."
"We brought food my beautiful righteous Queen." Kol said making you laugh which made the babies laugh. The Mikaelsons were happy to hear your laughter again and this time they were going to do their best to be sure you felt loved as they weren't going to let you go this time.
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lovenona · 3 years
Text
ON THE SACRED BONDS OF BROTHERHOOD.
synopsis; choso may be their beloved frat brother, but he’ll always be your brother first. (for the frat au collab.) 
pairing; frat boy! choso x f! reader
contains; stepcest, dubcon (reader is under the influence but having a good time), extensive descriptions of knife play and blood play, marking (choso carves his name into you), oral (f! receiving), borderline yandere/possessive choso (he loves you A Lot), choso goes from mean to Soft, consumption and romanticization of drugs and alcohol, (1) use of ‘angel’, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, this is essentially all foreplay and ends before the fucking because i got tired, minors do not interact or perish
word count; 6.5k
the yard outside is clean, well-kept. there’s talk that the house’s landlord is a retired gardener who receives great joy from keeping up the hydrangeas and peonies along the sidewalk. it’s certainly award-winning, that front yard, with its colorful blossoms and plush bees circling the mailbox. 
they’re so lucky, students bemoan on their way to and from class. i can’t believe the frat boys get to live there. i bet they don’t even know how lucky they are.
it’s a seemingly kind house from the outside – recently renovated with navy blue paint and white trimming, a large front porch and a few inviting windows. the place that omega lambda now calls home is, simply put, a dream. it sits just a few minutes from campus and it tells the street proudly, fondly, that there is no better place to be than here.
it’s true, in some respects, that omega lambda likes to see themselves as above the sweat and grime of their fellow frat brothers. they don’t spend their weekends “fucking and drinking” and tracking dirt across the carpet like animals. their fun is calm, refined: to be invited to a night with omega lambda means a night of smoke curling into the air, of gossip over olive-colored couches, of pills under tongues, of ease and relaxation.
it’s slower than the others, they say in the back of monday morning lectures, but no less extreme, no matter what those boys try and tell you.
i think i was tripping for days, the girl from psychology 101 boasted. whatever the fuck yuuji gets is strong. 
such stories amaze you: and even as you stand on the sidewalk outside the perfect blue house, petunias curling inward with the evening breeze, you cannot believe they are real. it’s hard to imagine the face of your beloved stepbrother tied to these antics. it’s hard to imagine that the boy who used to come home every winter and summer with bloodshot eyes and a beat-up skateboard also swore a loyal, unbreakable oath of brotherhood to a band of boys you’ve never met. 
it’s hard to imagine that your own stepbrother, choso, the one who taught you how to ride a bike and how to apply eyeliner and how to kiss without teeth, quite literally runs what has been dubbed the chillest fraternity on campus.
but yet, here you are, new to university, fresh-faced and eager, cowering outside the door of the omega lambda residence. your favorite skirt hovers around your thighs and you tug at the collar of your shirt, fiddle with the charm of the necklace choso gave you for your birthday a few years ago. 
he’d invited you here almost immediately after learning that you and your roommate had tried your hand at partying with beta pi epsilon. naoya is trash, choso’s fervent texts read the next morning. absolute dick – don’t trust him. come hang out with us instead. he’d attached the address of the blue house along with a reminder to have a snack and take some medicine for your godforsaken hangover. 
the message had taken you a little by surprise. choso’s always been sweet to you – doting, even, if you wanted a better word for it – but you hadn’t been sure how he’d handle attending the same university. your other friends all complain that they’d rather die than see their families; twins separate after orientation, brothers and sisters look the other way if they pass each other in the quad. you feared choso would be the same, that the omnipotent attention he gave you at home would completely dissipate the moment you moved into your dorm.
but his text reaffirms you, if anything. and although your roommate had opted to be wined and dined by the boy from calculus this evening, you don’t mind attending alone. her absence from your side only means you will be able to see your stepbrother without a distraction.
the music buzzes through the door as you knock and wring your fingers on the doorstep. should you just walk in? should you text choso and wait for him to fetch you? the ins-and-outs of frat etiquette cloud your mind until the door swings open and you’re met, face-to-face, with a young pink-haired man dangling a blunt from one hand and his phone, opened to his spotify playlist, from the other.
“hi,” you say, words foreign in your throat. “choso invited me?”
“oh, cool,” itadori yuuji says, shrugging his shoulders like he never would have questioned it. “come on in. you can put your shoes over there.” 
while omega lambda is not packed from wall to wall as your night at beta pi epsilon had been, the various couches propped against the walls and surrounding the living room coffee table are nearly packed to the brim with the frat brothers and their guests. the air, hazy with smoke and desire and drinking, shifts and swirls as it curls around purple LED lights before fogging up the windows and disappearing up the stairs. it is warm here, easy, like dropping into the depths of a pleasurable dream.
“there’s drinks in the kitchen,” yuuji is saying, voice thick with his high, “and we’ve got some other stuff on the table, although you’ll have to pay yuuta for those–” 
yuuji’s narration is cut off as a familiar figure crashes into yours, sweeping you into a hug so tight you fear your bones will snap from the pressure. choso smells like the cologne you bought him for his birthday, like fresh laundry and comfort; you breathe him in, deeply, and let yourself relax into the soft cotton of his black t-shirt.
“glad you could make it,” choso mumbles into your skin. he draws back slightly, drinks you in, your little skirt and your dainty socks that he’s always been partial to. he looks from you to yuuji, still vibing to the side with his playlist, and his eyes crinkle in what must be mirth.
“it’s good to see you,” you say. 
“you saw me at lunch with mom last week.” choso smiles, the black line across his nose crinkling when his eyes light up. 
“you get what i mean.” you tap his shoulder, lightly, as emphasis. the anxiety dissolves; it’s you, and him, like it’s always been. it’s your stepbrother choso who watches your shadow and wraps you up to keep the rest of the world at bay. 
but the tender moment is broken when someone, a tall blonde girl with the aura of a lioness, calls out to choso to ask him for assistance. he looks at you, a bit forlorn, before telling yuuji to help you get settled in and making his way to the other end of the living room.
“yes, this way!” yuuji grabs your arm and drags you across the floor like you’ve known each other forever. “i make some fucking good drinks if i do say so myself.” 
which, consequently enough, is how you find yourself losing your mind within the walls of omega lambda. 
it’s not that you’re a virgin to the world of cocktails and lime and pills: it’s that you’re too sweet to know when to stop. it’s hard to tell yuuji no more, thanks when his face is so bright, when he and the strange, blue-haired frat brother mahito are asking you to try this and try that and to let us know what you think. 
so you let yourself sway through the house, from couch to couch, listening to this mahito boy tell you about his latest philosophy courses as he dances cold fingers across your shoulders, listening to yuuji explain the very serious business of pulling an all-nighter without coffee, watching the LED lights shift from purple to blue and back again.
(you’re not sure where choso is. perhaps, in your altered state, he’s sitting just across from you and you don’t even know it. but you don’t mind, because his brothers get along with you just as well. you don’t mind, because you’re too drunk or too high to know any better.) 
“and how are you doing?” a dark-haired man slides into the empty couch space next to you. arms littered with various tattoos and dark hair pulled back into a casual half-bun, he could have been your beloved choso had he not exuded such finesse, such arrogance, which choso could never be capable of doing.
“i’m alright,” you say, but you’re more than alright. the room is so warm and your brain is so fuzzy that you might melt into the couch if someone looked away for even a minute. “i don’t think we’ve met before? i’m choso’s stepsister.” 
he simpers, a humid thing, one that coils around your eyelids and sets your insides alight. “ah! i’ve heard a lot about you. it’s nice to meet you.” he holds out a manicured hand; black nail polish glimmers in the dim light. “geto. i’m one of choso’s frat brothers.” 
his handshake might take your soul with it. his hands are smooth, refined. you swear he can feel your quickening pulse as you introduce yourself. he watches you like you might be the only person in the room, like you might be the sweetest thing to have ever crossed the threshold. and filled with rum and liqueur and confidence you take it, gladly, because you’re young and the thought of university still puts stars in your eyes. 
“so what are you studying?” geto is saying, prying you apart, picking through your history. he’s in his final year and you’re in your first and he knows all there is to know while you still have nothing. you latch onto him because he gets it, because he’s handsome, because you’re silly and desperate and drunk. somewhere along the way your thighs touch and his hand greets your shoulder and you think that you finally made it into his lap because mahito complained that the couch was too full. 
geto smells like expensive cologne. you smell vaguely of lemons and shampoo. yuuji jokes with you from across the table and you like it, the way these brothers’ eyes fall on you. 
so you spiral, further and further, into a daze you cannot escape from. you barely react to geto’s firm hand snaking up your bare thigh because you are too busy trying yuuji’s latest creation and asking mahito for more of whatever he gave you. it’s fun, it’s weightless; you feel beautiful, supreme, like the kind of college girl you’re supposed to be. you’re desirable, cute. you’re the girl to be in love with, the one who sets the scene.
those rumors were right. the party is certainly slower than the other frats you’ve visited, with more emphasis on sitting and vibing than on dancing and drinking games, but no less extreme. you’re so far out of your brain that you wonder briefly if it will ever be possible to come back down. maybe you’ll be her, on monday morning, the girl who’s still tripping.
“you know,” geto is saying, his breath eerily close to your pulse, a moment away from pressing a kiss to your cheek, your neck, “you should stop by more often.” 
“yeah?” you hope you sound sexier than you are. “i’d love to–”
“excuse me,” choso’s voice cuts through your lazy fantasy like the sharp fall of a guillotine. “i’d prefer if you didn’t hit on my sister, geto.” 
geto’s laugh reverberates against your back, your ears. his grip on you lightens immediately, and whatever words he’d saved for you die away. “i’m not,” he says, but his voice is too easy to be honest. “just keeping her company. right, sweetheart?”
you’re finding it hard to see straight. caught in this game of cat and mouse you find you can do nothing but sit lamely in geto’s lap and watch choso’s favorite necklace reflect the purple light. it’s only after a revolution around the sun you realize you haven’t spoken, that you’ve done nothing but hover, a lot of drunk and a little high and a little nervous, between one man and the other. you mumble a yes in affirmation but it’s clear from the tension that choso doesn’t believe it. 
“oh, for fuck’s sake,” choso sighs. “come on, then. you’ve had enough for one night.” familiar arms lift you off the couch and you stumble, much like a baby gazelle, into the safety of choso’s chest. the room spins with the sudden change; you cling to him like a lifeline as you abandon the party to head upstairs. 
of course, bedazzled out of your mind, you do not question when choso leads you to the end of the hallway and over the threshold of his bedroom. it feels expected in a way, safe, as if the party had always been meaning to end here. as if there was no other place you should be.
“so?” choso asks, casually, shutting the door behind him with a damning click. “did you enjoy being a little whore with my brothers?”
his words take a long moment to settle in your ears. you’re caught in the swirl of euphoria in your brain, the black t-shirts scattered across the floor, the small houseplant you once bought him seated on the windowsill. it warms your heart to see it there, after all this time.
“well?” choso demands your attention. he takes your jaw in his hand and lifts your eyes to meet his gaze. his silver rings, imposing and cool on slender fingers, burn into your heated flesh like embers. his eyes swim with distaste and you know it’s your fault, somehow, but when the walls tilt and your rationality fogs over, you can’t quite pinpoint why.
“i–” your words catch in your throat. it’s clear, from the darkness in his eyes, from the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of your jawline, that anything you say to defend yourself will be futile. it’s choso’s world, you’ve always known, and even now, you’re merely living in it. 
“i invite my sister to see me, because i miss her,” choso’s words nestle themselves deep into your bloodstream, settling amongst the brandy and wine, “and she chooses to spend the night bending over for my brothers. how do you think that makes me feel?” 
it’s a look you know: a look that has haunted you for hours and days, a look that you know better than any other. it’s the look that guides the hand between your legs at night and the look you recreate in your mind’s eye when your vibrator just isn’t enough. you’re crumbling already, like sand beneath his touch.
“i’m sorry,” you say to him, but the words are soft and whispered things, shy beneath the weight of your own guilt and disappointment. “i didn’t mean to–” 
“no,” choso admonishes. he steps closer, guiding you backwards until his bedsheets brush the backs of your knees. “of course you didn’t. you’re still too dumb to know what you’re doing.” his voice, evenly condescending, hardly matches the gentle brush of his fingers as he moves to cup your cheeks. you close your eyes against it, savoring the shivers he sends across you body with every heartbeat, every movement. “still need your big brother to keep you in check.” 
you do not respond: he does not intend for you too. instead choso presses you back until you fall onto his bed, crawling over you to cage your body beneath him like a predator and its prey. your brain falters with the sudden movement, with the lateness of the hour and the depravity of your position, but you can do nothing but look at him with your helpless doe-eyes while something saccharine pools in your belly. 
“look at you,” choso says. “high out of your damn mind. good thing i caught you when i did. who knows what would have happened.” 
you believe him, you do, especially when choso dips his head to kiss you and demands your subservience. his tongue licks the aftermath of your cocktails from your lips and claims the expanse of your mouth, your teeth, your sanity. you let him take you, body and soul, even when you’re clamoring for air and freedom. there is no safety but choso’s lips, flavored with his cinnamon chapstick, no sacred home but the warmth of his mouth. 
“there’s my girl,” choso breathes, nose brushing against yours as he pulls back for air. “going to be good for me now? going to make it up to your big brother?” 
he doesn’t wait for a response; fingers dance along the silk of your blouse as he undoes each button, one by one, letting his fingers dip slyly against the newly exposed expanse of your collarbone and your chest and your stomach. you make no move to stop him, caught somewhere between choso’s aura and reality and time. 
(and maybe in another life you would have stopped him. maybe in another life you would have been ashamed. but it’s choso, your sworn protector and god among men, and you would be a fool to try and stop the one who knows best. he is safety, protection. who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken you away when he did.) 
“is this new?” choso asks, studying the curve of your bra as he rests against your hips. “who are you trying to impress?” 
it’s thin lavender lace, choso’s favorite. your face warms at the observation and you turn your head away, nestling among the sheets, as if you could escape choso’s eyes: but his fingers still trace the material and you can still hear him breathing and you know he will never look away. 
“i just got it,” you answer, humbled and mildly humiliated and certainly a little fucked up. the words are slow and imprecise as you stumble over your own tongue. “i wanted to…treat myself.” 
choso’s exploratory hands move from your bra to the waistband of your skirt. “could’ve just asked me,” he says earnestly, intently. “i would’ve gotten it for you.” 
your affirmative hum is lost when choso mindfully pulls your skirt down your legs and discards it somewhere in the shadows of the room. he says nothing of it, of the thin fabric or the way it flattered you just right. perhaps he is jealous of it. perhaps he does not want to remember the way his brothers looked at you when you wore it, the way geto’s hands caressed the places no other man should go.
“they match, i see,” choso gestures towards your underwear. terrified and knowing and aware that you’re growing damper with each passing minute, you press your thighs together. “they’re cute.” 
“t-thank you,” you whisper. “i… i got them for you. your favorite color.” 
he smiles, a precious and glorious thing, a smile that causes flowers to grow and birds to sing. you electrify at the sight of it, blissful only when he is. 
“i’d hope so,” choso says, “because i don’t think i could take it if this was meant for someone else.” 
he reaches over to the nightstand while his words claw through you. choso smells like cinnamon and safety and pleasure; your heartbeat quickens as his t-shirt brushes against you, as your world collapses into nothing but choso’s profile, his butterfly hair-clips and his glowing skin and his power. 
when choso settles back over you, resting against your thighs until you think you might die of it, something silver and shiny rests in his palm. you’d recognize it even if your eyes were closed, if the room were so dark that you couldn’t see if you tried. a searing and insatiable sensation lodges itself in your veins; it is fear personified, it is anticipation of a behavior you cannot even name. 
choso twirls his beloved switchblade deftly between his well-manicured fingertips. it reflects the low-light of the room. it calls out to you, the beautiful and dangerous thing, a siren’s song that promises both your misery and your fortune. choso’s face is relaxed, serene, as the envy and the fury seemingly melts away from him and leaves only a disinterested vessel behind. 
he lets you study it, lets you study him, and you know he’s pleased when he can feel your thighs tense, when you try so damn hard not to let choso know just how affected you really are. he shifts, grinding gently against your pelvis as he moves, causing you to bite your lip in a desperate attempt to surpress the gentlest of moans. 
“well,” choso says, disregarding the state he’s slowly working you into. he shifts down your body and runs a lackluster hand across the lacy expanse of your underwear. shivers pierce your navel, silver rings poison your skin. it’s all you can do to watch him, his heartless eyes and his casual form, as his thumb prods at the place where you underwear crosses your hip. “let’s get these off. i’d hate to have anyone else see you in them.” 
you feel the blade before you see it. cold, unfriendly, it rests against the gentle skin of your hip, a killer ready to take a life. a humiliatingly choked whine is out of your mouth before you can swallow it; your gasp reverberates throughout the room, the sound of one who knows they’ve lost a fight. 
“choso��” you breathe, but you don’t know quite what it is you’re asking him for. 
he doesn’t answer immediately, opting instead to tease you further with the blade as he presses it against you until goosebumps rise in chorus. your fingers curl in on themselves, desperate for purchase, while fear and longing hum everywhere in your being. 
“don’t worry,” choso says. “i’ll buy you more. now be good and stay still.” 
you want to writhe, to lash out and squirm beneath the intensity of the moment, but you fear choso’s disappointment more than you crave such release. your big brother choso has never been afraid to hurt you: to pierce the skin where it hurts, to draw blood where he means it. if you move, the blade will move with you. you know this as you know every scar choso has left behind. 
it’s agonizing, this pace. choso’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth as he works with the ease of a great master. it’s like watching paint dry, like waiting for grass to grow or continents to shift. he cuts away at the expensive lingerie you bought just last weekend like he has all the time in the world, like he does not care if the sun rises and you are still crying beneath him.
(and he does it, you know, because you’ve never been one to be patient.) 
“choso,” you whine, drawing his name out, long and frustrated, as if in song. “go faster.” your legs twitch in protest and the blade comes ever closer. 
“no.” choso does not even spare the kindness to look at you, his beloved little sister. “stop whining.” 
the rest of your complaints lodge in your throat. you fear disobeying him, so you grip the comforter like a lifeline, exasperated tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the blade cuts through your clothes and ghosts across the bare skin beneath. it’s embarrassing, really, the way you can feel yourself becoming more and more desperate the further choso drifts away from you, the more he refuses to indulge. 
you wonder if he can sense the arousal on you, feel it, smell it, even, like you’re nothing but his own little plaything in heat. 
after an eternity, the blade finally cuts through your panties with a satisfying rip. the torn fabric sits pitifully against your hips, a reminder of your own subservience, until choso peels it away from you with enough condescension to move you to tears. the cool air of the room hits your thighs, your cunt, like a ghost who’s taken up residence beside you. 
blissfully unaware of your feelings, choso studies the remains of your ruined underwear, the thin fabric and the obvious stain of your arousal. locking eyes with you, he bring it to his nose for a brief and pleasurable inhale before he discards it somewhere on the other side of the room.
“there we are,” he says, as if he hadn’t just smelled yourself in front of you. “now no one will ever know about it but me.”
“choso,” you whimper, hot. it’s a gift and a humiliation to be beneath him like this, to shake with need and yet to be denied it, to ask for something, for anything, in a voice so unabashedly loud that anyone who passes by the door might hear it.
he ignores you, again, and turns his attention to your bra as it flutters against your fervent chest. you watch with wide eyes as the blade comes closer, closer, dancing against your ribcage and sending ice into your lungs until it slices through the front of your bra, down the center of your chest, like the thin fabric was made of nothing but water. 
“get rid of this,” he says; you listen. with quick and quivering fingertips you shimmy your way out of the delicate material and toss it over the side of the bed faster than the speed of sound. choso, pleased with your obedience, intently traces the curve of your breasts, thumbing your nipples until you find yourself arching into his touch. 
(choso, you mumble, eyes falling shut at the feeling. still, as always, he does not listen. he draws his hands away.) 
it kills you, the way choso’s eyes possess you, own you, dictate the movement in your bloodstream. it’s akin to being pulled along on marionette strings, a puppet of choso’s own design, made to dance for him and him alone. 
it’s the prize he deserves, your big brother, to own you and protect you, body and soul.
it’s that very intensity which moves you to misty tears, which causes your hands to fly out to meet him against your better judgement. choso lets you pleasure yourself for a moment with the texture of his t-shirt and the outline of his shoulders before brushing your hands away like unnecessary flies. 
“did you whore yourself out like this when you went to naoya’s?” choso prods. the patronization lies beneath feigned and genuine curiosity. there are no inflections, no signs of anger. this is how your big brother gets you, every time: it’s the neglect, the disinterest, that breeds your guilt. “are you really so easy for every boy that comes your way?” 
you shake your head and wish you could bury yourself further into the bedsheets. no, never. try as you might the first-year college boys here just haven’t been enough, the older ones too preoccupied with better cunts to look your way. 
“just because those guys are my brothers,” choso continues, shifting further and further down your body, spreading your legs until he can fit himself comfortably between them, “doesn’t mean i have to share everything with them.” 
“i’m sorry, choso,” you try again, “i’m sorry. i don’t want anyone else–” 
“that’s right,” choso interrupts. “you don’t need anyone else. no one is ever going to love you the way i do.” 
the way your big brother does, his eyes say, but he doesn’t have to voice it. you already know. it’s true that no one knows you better than choso does. no one understands your limits and your desires the way your brother has for as long as you’ve known him. no one knows how to caress you when you cry, how to run their tongue across your lips to silence you when you’re too eager. it’s always choso. it’s always been choso; but sometimes you’re just too much of a fool to see it. 
the blade, cool and demanding, presses against the soft flesh of your thigh, just below the hip. you twitch in surprise at the sensation and curl your toes to quell the ache in your cunt. it’s slick, weeping; you can feel it, the arousal, as it pools and pools and drips quietly onto the comforter. 
“choso, what are you–” you ask, breathily, pitifully, but choso’s quick glare reduces you into obedient silence. 
he licks the cinnamon chapstick on his lips. a stray hair falls across his eyes and kisses the dark line across his nose. he is love and danger, a cocktail of possession and surrender. “i think,” choso says, the words slow and thoughtful, “you need a reminder of who loves you the most.” 
a strangled cry escapes your lips when the blade pierces your skin just enough to draw blood. the sting travels up through your spine and fogs up your senses, causes your cunt to weep in horrible anticipation. it hurts, it does, the first cut, but still you find yourself waiting for more of it, more, in terror and lust and love. 
“choso–” you cry, a misty tear escaping out of the corner of your eye, but the call is met by another stroke, longer this time, drawn out, until your knuckles clutch the bedsheets so tensely they might as well turn to stone. 
“stay still,” choso admonishes amidst the burn of it. “you’ll hurt yourself.” 
as if you were the one in control. but you listen, obediently as always, and the alcohol from earlier combined with the need in your chest mixes together until your body is as taut as a desperate wire, until you no longer have control of yourself or your limbs. the knife cuts easily, choso’s hands as steady and precise as ever. you can feel the blood dripping onto his sheets like a series of hot tears.
it’s too much, all at once. it is a fire which destroys you, which renders every coherent thought into ash and causes you to sob nothing but drawn-out cries and pleads of choso’s name into the dark bedroom. he has you just where he wants you: pliant, dumb, obedient. if he asked you to fetch him a star, you would have asked him which one he needed.
choso’s tongue darts between his teeth as a steady hand continues its masterpiece. you sob unabashedly in reply with every stroke, with every flex of his fingers as he works his blade against your tender skin. and yet, as the pain grows, so does your need for something, for anything, for release; with every aching minute your cunt grows hotter and lonelier and emptier between your thighs. 
you crave something, anything, choso, perhaps even more than you wish for air.
“there you go,” choso says, just as you release another cry so piercing there’s no way even yuuji wouldn’t have heard it. “all done.” 
you sit up on your elbows to peer down at the masterpiece below your hip. smeared with blood, aching and raw from the blade, the word CHOSO spreads across your upper thigh in an uneven but heartfelt script. it makes you dizzy, this marking, this sign that no one owns you better than your sacred brother does. you wonder if it will leave a scar, if it will heal; and even more so, you wonder if choso will merely rewrite it, again and again, until every cell in your body knows that you are nothing without him.
you say nothing; a whine escapes your lips as your eyes flit from the mark to choso’s eyes, dark and possessive, as he looks back at you.
“you like it?” he asks, once again the sweet thing, the doting one.
“yes,” you whisper back, never one to lie to your perfect big brother. 
but you cannot hide the insatiability. choso notices the way your thighs twitch from the intensity, the way your cunt drools and your eyebrows furrow because you cannot relieve this ache on your own. you’re helpless, entirely at his mercy. choso tilts his head with a soft and unreadable simper at the sight.
“you’re really worked up, huh?” he pretends your distress is not blatantly obvious. he twirls the bloodstained knife between his fingertips for a moment before bringing the flat edge of the blade against his lips in a somber kiss. “this little thing’s got you down bad, i see.” he flashes the switchblade at you like a diamond. you watch, entranced, as choso slides his tongue across the metal until any traces of your blood disappear into his mouth. 
your belly’s on fire. the switchblade shines with choso’s spit and he smiles, your blood on his tongue, while he prods your legs apart, further, until you’re entirely open for him with nothing to hide. you whine lowly as choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes, dazed and helpless, and the slick on the bedsheets. 
“choso,” you repeat. “please, help me.” your eyes are wide and your voice is small and you crumble beneath the weight of your own needing, of your own body working of its own volition, of the high that collapses all over you. 
perhaps it’s the way you call for him, your big brother, in your time of need. perhaps it’s the way choso can never really deny you, even when he feigns disappointment or rage or neglect. he’s bound to you, your protector, and you can see in the way his eyes soften ever so slightly that choso will not deny you this request.
“sure thing, angel. let me clean this up for you.” choso’s voice is generous as he bows his face towards your hips with the reverence of one before the altar. he leaves no room for your answer. an eager tongue swipes across your thigh and laps at the blood which pools there. his movements are indulgent, refined, as he holds your legs open with intimidating palms and drinks you in like medicine.
“choso–” you gasp, unable to look away. his eyes flit back to meet yours in reply but he continues his ministrations, slow, teasing, as he ignores your cunt entirely and licks at the fresh wound until it’s finally, sacredly, clean. your newly beloved CHOSO glimmers with his spit when he pulls away. he smiles at you then, praying over your hips, lips stained red with your blood, with your being. 
“i may be their brother,” choso gestures towards the door, to the party which must still rage below, “but i’m your brother first, and now you’ll never forget it.”  
the words are followed by his tongue on your inner thigh, fervent this time, as he travels downwards, downwards from his name on your leg until his nose is a breath away from your clit. you thrust your hips towards him impatiently and he accepts it, gratefully, burying his face deep into your cunt like he’s searching for gold. choso lavishes your clit with plump lips and an eager tongue, drawing the bud into his mouth and kissing it until you cry, until your legs tremble as they ensnare him in your garden.
“choso–” you’re crying, voice transcendent throughout the frat house, his favorite song. there’s a tongue prodding against your hole and a silver ring on your clit and you lose yourself within it, within choso’s breath on your folds and the fire which erupts into chaos. 
when it comes to pleasing you, choso does not require air. he refuses to resurface as his tongue explores every inch, as he laps away at you with the passionate abandon only an older brother can provide. what you need, he needs, and what you desire most, choso is always willing to provide. he holds you steady as he works so you cannot escape him. he forces you into stillness as he abuses every sacred inch of your cunt, as he works you into a frenzy with his fingers and his tongue until you can think of nothing but wanting to cum. 
and then, then, at the precipice of pleasure, choso pulls away. you pause as you catch your breath, heartbeat like an earthquake, and recollect your shock. why has he stopped? where has he gone? you’re about to sit up, to feign sobriety, to demand what the matter is, when something cool and smooth presses against your clit.
choso’s cheek rests against your inner thigh as he presses the flat edge of the switchblade against your cunt. it’s cold and dangerous and sublime and you cannot help but think of the way it could ruin you, that if you shifted or choso wanted it everything could end here, now, forever. and it is this fear, coupled with the coolness of the blade suffocating your clit, with the alcohol in your bloodstream, that sends you into a place from which you may never return. 
the orgasm is as violent as a hurricane. the moment you tense and begin to quake with a strangled sob choso replaces the blade with his tongue and rides you through it, coating his lips with your cum and swallowing the vibrations and heightening the sensation until you are tortured by it, by the sting of pleasure and overstimulation and want. 
(“that’s it,” you think he says into your skin, but your ears ring too loudly to know. “cum for me, just like that.”) 
it takes some time for the waves to recede and for your body to become still again. with a head comprised of of jelly and limbs made of water you lie still, panting, as choso nonchalantly licks your slick from the switchblade with a hum and gingerly sets it back down on his dresser. you watch as he slides the belt out of his jeans and tosses it into the dark room, as he hovers above you like an angel and its lover. 
“better now?” he asks against your parted lips. you nod. he kisses you, deeply, a kiss made of iron and cum and blood, tongue swiping across your teeth before he draws the air from your lungs. your vision swims when he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, between your eyebrows. he plants his love until there is nowhere left untouched, until you are buzzing with the security only your brother choso can give you. 
“yeah,” you mumble back to him, content, satisfied. even the sting of his name on your body is a pleasantry now. 
“good.” choso wipes the perspiration from your brow. his jeans scratch against your pelvis, and it is only then that you finally register his cock, hard and eager, waiting patiently for its turn. it is only then that you realize choso’s lesson is not yet over, that your brother’s desperate need has only begun. 
“now,” he purrs, gently, lovingly, “can you show me how much you love me?”
(as always, forever, you do. you show him your love, endlessly, even when the party ends and the house falls eerily silent. you show choso everything, all of it, loyally, just as he asks, with an only you, choso, and a no one else loves me like you.
because although choso offers his love to the brothers downstairs, he will always, forever, be your brother first, til death do you part.)
237 notes · View notes
tnystrk-exe · 3 years
Text
Estocolmo 3
Hannibal x Reader
Masterpost
First Chapter
Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming
Word count: 6k
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Chapter Three
Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.
However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.
You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.
“I can’t wait for you to leave.”
“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”
“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”
You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”
“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”
“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.
“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”
“When is she getting here?”
“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”
You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”
“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”
“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”
Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.
All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.
“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.
Opening the door you got out of the car.
“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.
“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”
“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”
You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”
“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.
Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.
It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”
“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.
He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”
“I do not!”
“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”
“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”
“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”
You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”
He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”
You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”
“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”
“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”
“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”
“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.
“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.
“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.
“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”
You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”
“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”
You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.
When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.
You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.
“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”
“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”
“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”
“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”
Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”
You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.
“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”
“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”
The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”
“Why not?”
You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”
You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”
“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.
You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.
You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.
“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
-
The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.
An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.
So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.
You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.
The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”
You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”
“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”
“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”
“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”
You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.
“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.
“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”
“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”
“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”
“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”
You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”
“A couple.”
Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.
“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”
“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”
The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.
“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”
The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”
Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”
“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”
You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.
“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”
“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.
“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.
“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”
“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”
You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”
“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”
And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.
-
You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.
Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.
It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.
Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.
As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.
“Kitchen!” You called out.
He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”
“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”
“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.
“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”
He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”
“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”
His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”
“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”
“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”
“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”
“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”
You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”
The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.
It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.
You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.
“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.
“Just watching.”
He hummed in response.
Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”
It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.
“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”
You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”
“YN…”
“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.
He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.
“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”
“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”
“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”
“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”
You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.
-
“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.
“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.
Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”
You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”
“I got us tickets to the opera.”
“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”
“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll be quick!”
With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.
“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”
You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.
Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.
“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.
“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”
“Yes, please.”
Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”
“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”
“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”
“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”
“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”
You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”
“That, I do.”
Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”
“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”
Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.
You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”
“Anything for you, my love.”
“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.
A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.
“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”
“That was said when I was drunk on you.”
“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”
Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.
You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“
He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.
You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.
Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”
You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.
“Please?”
“What do you need?”
“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”
“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”
You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.
“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.
“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”
You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.
“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.
“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”
“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Beg for it.”
“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”
“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”
You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”
“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”
You shook your head.
He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”
“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”
“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”
“You’ll let me?”
Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”
You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”
He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”
Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay
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Text
the first time saying I love you p. 2
Warnings: nothing! Maybe some swearing but all fluff!
Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Toru, & Tsukishima Kei, all with a Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you so much @livy384​ for asking for a part 2 of this idea!!! I was so excited to see someone wanted to see more of one of my headcanons haha. So here you go lovely!! A big thank you as usual to my inspiration babies @thisnoodlewritesao3​ and @satan-ruler-of-hells​ <3  Also I’m sorry I know Oikawa’s is shorter than the others but I’ve never written for him or thought about writing for him so i’m so very sorry if it sucks xD
pt. 1
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Iwaizumi Hajime Who says it first: Neither of you
It was supposed to have been a really cute date - Iwaizumi had remembered you telling your friend that there was a market near by that you’ve always wanted to go visit, but never had anyone to go with. Naturally, Iwaizumi tucked that information in the back of his brain and planned.
It was a Saturday and Iwaizumi had somehow managed to get himself away from practice, making you smile wide when he asked if you wanted to spend the day together. You knew he felt a little bad lately, being so busy with volleyball, and as much as you never blamed him for it, you were happy to be spoiled with his presence. When he started walking you towards the market, your eyes went wide, looking at all the cute stalls that you wanted to visit and the items you wanted to check out.
“Iwa!” You grinned up at him, shaking his arm excitedly. “How did you know I wanted to go here?”
He just shrugged and gave you a smile, patting your head gently, “Let’s find some cute things for my cute girlfriend hm?” You beamed and happily took his hand, the two of you going around to each stall.
There was too much to look at honestly and you wanted nothing more than to carry bundles of everything home. Iwa managed to sneak away from you for a second while you talked to a stall owner, picking out a necklace for you and holding it close to his chest for a moment, just thinking of you. Meanwhile, you managed to find a beautiful lucky charm to give him for his next game. He never really needed it but you always liked the gesture of being the one to give it to him anyways.
It was a perfect date so far.
And then Oikawa showed up.
“Iwa!” He grinned, waving from afar. You laughed, realizing that Oikawa had most likely followed you guys here. You never minded him tagging along on your dates (though the girls that followed him were sometimes a bit extreme), but Iwaizumi on the other hand... never seemed too happy to see his best friend.
Iwaizumi groaned loudly, annoyed at himself for casually mentioning that he’d be bringing you here this weekend, “Why are you here?” He grumbled, glaring at his friend as he made his way over.
Oikawa just pouted, “I just wanted to make sure you were being nice to Y/N!”
“When am I ever mean to Y/N?”
“I dunno, but you’re mean to me and I’m your best friend so I just assumed it was how you show affection,” Oikawa chuckled and gave you a wave, “Are you two having fun?”
You nodded and glanced around at all the other stalls you still wanted to visit, “There’s so much to look at! Are you looking to get anything, Oikawa?”
The boy just smiled and looked around, “I dunno, I’ll have to look around some! What did you two get?” He asked, nodding at the little bags and packages you were holding.
“Oh! I found this cute little decoration for my parents’ kitchen,” you explain, showing off some of the little knickknacks you found. “I wanted to find some sort of accessory for myself. Maybe like a barrette or a bracelet,” you admitted, eyes drifting away again as if you would be able to find something from where you were standing.
“Like this?” Oikawa asked, peeking into Iwaizumi’s bag and pulling out a little jewlery box, opening it to see the necklace that Iwaizumi had bought you.
“You asshole! Give that back!” Iwaizumi’s eyes went wide, realizing he had had his eyes locked on you the whole time you were talking because you were just so cute, he hadn’t even noticed Oikawa practically pickpocketing him.
Oikawa’s bottom lip just stuck out again, huffing and holding the item farther away from his best friend, “Why are you so mean? If you bought it for her, shouldn’t you give it to her? What, were you just going to let her buy something else for herself and waste her money?”
Iwaizumi’s whole face was red. He didn’t want to yell out his whole plan to the market, let alone to Oikawa when you were standing right there, laughing at the whole encounter.
“Stop being so shy, Iwa,” Oikawa cooed, smiling as he looked at you, “I’m sure she thinks it’s really cute that you buy her things to show her you love her!”
“Shittykawa, please shut the hell up,” Iwaizumi glared at his friend, still trying to grab the box away from him.
“Aw don’t put words in his mouth, Oikawa,” you giggled, smiling up at your boyfriend and his friend, “I think he just does it cause he’s sweet.”
Oikawa noticed the way you were so quick to dismiss his words, glancing between you and Iwaizumi, completely confused, “What do you mean?”
“Oikawa, I swear to god, please go before I kill you,” Iwaizumi was practically clawing his hands up to Oikawa’s neck, his whole body feeling flustered.
“Iwaizumi, did you tell her you didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of your friends? It’s okay! She can know I know! It’s not like you don’t talk about it all the time.”
“Talk about what?” You asked, growing more confused as the conversation went on.
“About how much he loves you! He talks about it all the time with the team!” Oikawa beamed, finally letting Iwaizumi grab the jewelry box from his hands.
Your eyes go wide, looking over at Iwaizumi, who seemed suddenly very concerned over kicking some dust on the ground. His whole face was red, eyes looking literally anywhere but at you.
“You love me?” You squeaked out nervously.
“No! I-I mean, yes but- hang on,” your boyfriend groaned. He had the whole thing planned out, he had wanted to tell you a whole speech about how much he loved you and now that whole plan was absolutely ruined.
Oikawa’s body froze as he watched the two of you, sheepishly laughing, “Oh... I spoiled it didn’t I? That’s what the necklace was for hm?”
“Shittykawa, if one more word leaves your lips-” Iwaizumi huffed, punching his arm with an annoyed look on his face.
“I’m sorry, Iwa! I didn’t mean to spoil your first love confession! But honestly, I’m such a big part of your life, maybe it’s better this way-” Oikawa grinned, obviously trying to lift up some of the tension.
“I’m going to count to three, and if you’re not gone by the end of it, I will literally bury you alive.” There was something different about this death threat, a growl in Iwaizumi’s throat building with his anger.
Oikawa’s smile tensed and he just turned to you with a little wave, “I suddenly remembered I have to be literally anywhere else but here. Have a nice date! Please convince him not to kill me!”
You had never seen Oikawa dash away so quickly, his figure gone almost immediately after waving goodbye.
Iwaizumi seemed so angry, all you could was offer a small smile, “You okay?” You asked softly, touching his arm gently.
He seemed to relax a bit at your touch, sighing and just turning to look at you, “Yeah. Please don’t listen to anything he says. He’s literally an idiot.”
You smiled shyly, rocking on your heels awkwardly, “So... you don’t love me then?”
Iwaizumi’s eyes widened immediately, shaking his hands in front of him quickly in denial, “N-No. I mean. Yes. Just don’t listen to him. But yes, I love you.” He hesitated for a moment, seeming to watch your eyes. “Unless you don’t love me back, then we can just pretend none of this happened,” he mumbled shyly, rubbing the back of his head.
You couldn’t help but giggle, pushing his arm playfully, “You idiot. Of course I love you.”
He blinked in surprise, staring at your face and trying to make sure you weren’t just joking with him, “Oh. Well in that case, this is for you.” He handed you the small box holding the necklace, watching as you open it to find a small pendant of your favourite animal. “The heart ones just seemed so cheesy,” he admitted with a shrug. “But I hope you think of me whenever you wear it.”
Your heart literally grew three sizes, this boy was being so cute and sweet. You nodded up at him happily, still admiring your new necklace, which was exactly what you had hoped to find at the market, “I will.”
He whispered another “I love you” to you as he helped clasp the necklace behind your neck, pressing a kiss to your cheek from behind and sending a tingle down your spine. 
He said “I love you” to you every hour after that - if his surprise was going to be spoiled, he was going to spoil you with those words over and over again, never wanting you to forget how he feels about you.
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Oikawa Toru Who says it first: You
Oikawa was literally the worst person to study with - he was always so distracting. How could someone who barely looks at his notes during your study dates be in Class 6? He was always busy with volleyball anyways, so how was it possible that he had any other time to do work?
“Hurry up and finish your work so we can go do something fun,” Oikawa hummed with a smirk on his face, having already finished his homework. He refused to let you look at his answers, or even help you, because “how are you supposed to learn, Y/N?” Smug ass look on his face how rude. “I might just have to go on some adventure on my own while I wait for you to finally finish.”
You just roll your eyes and mumble something about hating him making him laugh.
“Aww, is someone pouting?” He teased, ruffling up your hair happily. “I’m sorry, baby, I just love looking at your cute concentration face!”
You rolled your eyes, glaring at him playfully, “You’re refusing to help me because you want to look at my face? Take a picture why don’t you.”
“I already have,” he beamed, showing you the new background for his phone. You did not look the least bit attractive in your opinion, but Oikawa was smiling so happily at the photo, how could you argue?
“You’re an idiot,” you mumble with a huff, scribbling a half-assed answer on your sheet of paper.
“Aw come on, Y/N,” Oikawa smirked, sliding closer to you and tilting your chin up with a singular finger so you were forced to look him in the eyes. “You know you love me,” he teased in that fake sultry voice of his.
Normally, you’d just get a bit flustered - there was just something about those bedroom eyes of his eyes that made you squirm. But here, just sitting here with him and realizing that even when he took ugly pictures of you, this perfect pretty boy still wanted to be with you... you realized there wasn’t a single person you’d rather be with right now. Or ever.
“Ya you’re right,” you smiled up at him, pulling away from his teasing look and turning back to your homework. “I do love you.”
The expression on his face was probably photo worthy and later, you’d wish you had snapped a picture of it. The utter shock was enough to send all the blood flying out of his face, a nosebleed soon ensuing.
“Oikawa! Are you okay?” You asked with wide eyes, rushing to get tissues.
“F-Fine! I’m fine!” The fact that all the blood was rushing to his rosy cheeks probably wasn’t helping his nosebleed, only making it flow faster.
The two of you laughed when his bleeding was under control, Oikawa blushing enough to look like a marker colour, “You can’t just say stuff like that to a guy, Y/N! That’s so mean! Teasing me like that.” He pouted, crossing his arms like a child.
You tilted your head slightly, watching him for a moment before saying, “Teasing? What do you mean? I meant it, Oikawa, you idiot.”
His eyes would just widen and suddenly homework wasn’t all that important anymore.
“Oikawa! it’s due this week!” You insisted as he dragged you out of the house, your hand firmly held in his.
“Too bad! We’re going for ice cream!” He declared with a grin. “Oh and Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“I love you too. Idiot.” His smile was as wide as ever but there was a genuine love in his eyes as he looked at you, soon leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
But don’t worry, later he’d help you with your homework. As long as you said “I love you” to him one more time.
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Tsukishima Who says it first: Him
Tsukishima says he loves you in actions more than he does words at first, throwing you snacks that he carries with him specifically for you, when he notices you getting hungry. He’ll bring an extra hoodie or wear one when he knows he’ll get too warm for it, because he knows you like to be comfy and warm. He offers to come over and study with you when you’re getting nervous over a test, holds your hand and squeezes it gently if he notices you getting anxious over something, and he walks you to and from home every day.
He loves you. And even though you can feel it through his actions, you weren’t quite sure if he was ready to hear that you loved him too.
Honestly, you would’ve been fine just going about your relationship the way that it was. But of course, what good would having upperclassmen in his volleyball team be if they didn’t annoy the shit out of him and talk about your relationship?
Tanaka had been going on and on in the club room about how badly he wanted a girlfriend, pouting to himself because he was still unsure of how Tsukishima, a salty brat, managed to get a cute girlfriend like you before he did.
“God it must be so nice to have someone to hug and hold hands with and tell them ‘I love you’ every five seconds! If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her leave my presence until she knew how much I loved her!” Tanaka was saying, Noya nodding aggressively in agreement.
Tsukishima’s ears perked hearing this, pulling his gym shirt over his head as he got ready to head home for the night.
“How did you do it, Tsukishima?” Noya asked randomly, a grin on his face. “I bet you’re secretly super romantic aren’t you? You got her flowers and chocolates and stuff huh?”
“How did I do what?” Tsukishima asked flatly, glancing back at them. The second years shared a look and then looked back at him, both tilting their heads simultaneously.
“How did you first tell Y/N you loved her,” Tanaka explained, his eyes narrowing as he watched Tsukishima’s eyes move away from them. “Wait a minute, you haven’t told her yet?”
“Tsukishima! You asshole! Don’t you know how lucky you are to have such a cute girl on your arm? Always doing cute things for you like that time she made you a bento box? Or when she comes to our games and always cheers the loudest for us?” Noya’s yelling was soon turning into a tearful whine, still upset that he didn’t have these things that Tsukishima did.
The blond boy just tried to turn away, packing up his things as his upperclassmen moaned.
“Tanaka, Noya, leave the boy alone,” Sugawara scolded. “I’m sure Tsukishima’s going to tell her on his own time! Aren’t you, Tsukishima?” His voice was so sweet, as if he was only trying to help him out, but Sugawara’s eyes told a different story - one where he was really trying to pry an answer from the first year.
All eyes were on him once again and Tsukishima was silently wishing he had left earlier without getting dressed. The question loomed over the club room like a raincloud, pressure on Tsukishima’s answer building the more the silence lasted.
“Sure,” he answered finally before leaving the room, shifting his bag on his shoulder slightly. He hadn’t really thought about it before. Why hadn’t he told you yet? He knew he loved you, it’s not like he was an idiot in denial over it. He had spent a good year in denial but he wouldn’t admit it. He knew he loved you but why hadn’t he said anything yet?
The idea of telling you made his whole face feel hot but why? It’s not like he hadn’t sent you songs about love, or watched those sappy romantic movies with you and thought about you the whole time. So why hadn’t he said it? It was just three words after all, wasn’t it? Three little words.
There you were, waiting for him again outside of the gym. You had that cute little smile on your face that you always had whenever you caught his eye. He loved that smile.
“Ready?” You asked happily, him holding out his arm for you slightly and you link yours with it and just look up at him with those gorgeous eyes. He loved your eyes.
“How was practice?” You asked as the two of you walked and he told you all about how annoying Hinata and Kageyama was, you always laughing when he expressed his annoyance. He loved your laugh.
At some point while you two were walking home, Tsukishima felt himself stop. He could feel Tanaka and Noya’s words starting to get to him, an uneasy feeling in his stomach making him feel... different. He knew if he didn’t say it now, he never would.
“Tsukishima?” You blinked up at him, noting the way he stopped so abruptly. “Are you okay?”
He took a breath - if you were going to reject him, that would be fine. Everything would be fine. No it wouldn’t, he heard that little voice in his head say. What the hell would we do without you?
Despite his conflicting thoughts on the matter, Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to silence them as he managed to get out weakly, “I love you, Y/N.”
You just stood there for what felt like forever. Why weren’t you saying anything? His heart fell a little as you just stared at him, your face not betraying any of your emotions.
“What?” You squeaked.
He sighed frustratedly, unsure if you were trying to give him a way to go back on his words, or if you were really this deaf. “I love you,” he repeated himself, his voice louder and firmer this time. If he was going to get rejected, it wouldn’t be because he backed down. He would make sure of it.
But soon your lips were curling into that smile that he loved, your eyes were sparkling up at him, and a giggle fell from your lips, “I-I love you too, Tsukishima!” You beamed, hopping a little where you stood in excitement.
He couldn’t hide how happy that made him. His lips turned into a smile and he reached up to pat your head, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, “Alright, stop looking at me like. It’s late, we should get you home,” he told you, scolding you as if you had been the one to stop first.
But it didn’t matter. Because Tsukishima Kei said he loved you and those were the last three words you had ever expected him to say, even though you had felt the same all this time.
For the first time ever, Tsukishima actually took the advice of his upperclassmen and made it his promise to himself that he would never let you leave his sight without telling you “I love you”, even if it had to be over text because he wasn’t quite ready to say it in front of everyone else yet. But he would tell you over and over again, because even when he was annoyed at you or in a bad mood, Tsukishima loved you and he didn’t ever want you to think otherwise.
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jaesvelvet · 3 years
Text
muse — watanabe haruto
warnings: lowercase,grammartical error,spelling error
pairing: haruto + fem! reader
words: 2.3k words
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目が合う 目が合う
だけで息が詰まる
ほど美しい my muse
my muse is so beautiful
that i can't breath
just by meeting her eyes
+.*
haruto widens his eyes when you stand not so close beside him. your presence could make haruto cloud nine. your laugh could make haruto smile like a fool and your lips, if the world free from any rules, he would like to put his lips onto yours.
as you felt someone watching you, you turn around only to see some male's back, walking away from you. haruto fastens his pace to go to the dance practice room with hands full of snacks, he doesn't want you to think of him like a creeper, staring at someone without any particular reason.
"oi, what takes you so long?" mashiho asked the younger
haruto smile, he gives the oldest snacks that he bought from yg's convenience store. he gave all of the members snacks and water that he bought with his own money as punishment for losing rock paper scissors.
they all minded their own business, felt too tired of having chat with each other, they have gotten no rest since morning, practicing for their upcoming debut. all they could think now is their comfortable bed. but as much as they want to rest, they need to get this choreo neat and perfect to amaze the audience.
but haruto, his mind could think of you. you with silky hair and always wear your favorite white converse whenever you came to the company. it's unbelievable how you made him go crazy about you since he never felt falling in love with anyone. but when you step in the dance practice room and greeted them with a big smile on your face, that's the time where haruto felt you are so cute and making his heart fluttered
knowing your personality, haruto felt you are his type, he is completely head over heels for you, and he hates how he can't speak even a single word towards you when he realized his feelings. he felt so stupid.
"you guys!!" you entered the dance practice room with your infamous smile. behind you, lee youngsang, your father followed you into the dance practice room and put his belonging on the couch.
"i give you all 5 more minutes and shows me your result" said lee yongsang, or treasure's dance teacher or your dad more specifically.
as the leaders of the group, jihoon, and hyunsuk yelled out a 'yes teacher!' as a response, but once again haruto felt the cloud nine in his body, seeing the person he likes talking to doyoung, you always laugh whenever doyoung make the dad jokes, although haruto and the others find it not funny and lame, you being the easily laugh person, always laugh at doyoung's joke and it successfully made haruto smile like an idiot.
"who are you smiling at?" haruto flinched, truly shocked by asahi sudden appearance.
"no one, i remember when jeongwoo fell the other day, it's still funny till now" he answered coolly asahi can't know his big secret although he closes with asahi.
asahi nodded and left haruto alone, haruto sigh, relieved as the oldest trust his little lie.
"ruto ya" you called him
"yes,y/n?"
"i watched t-map yesterday, and i heard you like collecting butterfly necklaces"
"um yeah, that butterfly necklace is cool you know" haruto's heart flutter when you said you watched t-map, it means you knew how loud he is, a bit embarrassing but felt happy when you knew what he likes through t-map.
"you know– your style is cool and your fashion sense too, what about you wear something cute?"
"um yeah, that butterfly necklace is cool you know" haruto's flutter when you said you watched t-map, it means you knew how loud he is, a bit embarrassing but felt happy when you knew what he likes through t-map.
"why don't you try to wear something cute?" you asked
haruto scrunched his face. wear something cute? like what? like doyoung's all-red outfit? or junkyu's koala pajama?
"wear this. i made it myself, i made for you cause i remember you said you like collecting butterfly necklace" you handed it him a white pink bead necklace with a butterfly locket
haruto smile widely and couldn't help but chuckled at your cuteness. oh, how he wishes he could hug you right now
"thank you y/n, i'm gonna wear this," he said and wear the necklace on the spot, seeing you laugh happily made him happy. love turns someone crazy.
"okay guys that's enough of a break" the teacher yelled, making all of the 12 treasure members turn to their positions. haruto smile as he saw you mouthing 'fighting' to him.
+.*
haruto stares at the bead necklace with love in his eyes, he smiles when he thought you made this while thinking about him who loves collecting a butterfly necklace. he felt appreciated for the moment.
suddenly the door open, showing junkyu with his koala pajamas, entered the room with a towel on his shoulder and wet hair.
"i felt like i could sleep till next week" the older groaned, throwing himself to his bed, ready to sleep.
haruto didn't reply, he also felt tired from all day practicing, he turns his body facing the wall, ready to sleep but junkyu's question made him awake.
"do you like y/n, ruto ya?"
"what are you talking about hyung?"
"we all know"
haruto gulped
we?
who we?
treasure members?
if yes, he is doomed.
"no, how can i—"
"you guys could make a cute couple"
"go to sleep hyung, we got to get up early tomorrow" haruto said, not want to continue this topic.
junkyu let him off, he also wants to sleep right now.
+.*
today is the day, where they need to record their debut song, but in the japanese version. when haruto turns to record his part, you enter the studio with your favorite potato snack.
you smiled at haruto who's now in the recording room, haruto returns your smile and starts practicing his rap before record it as he wants everything to go perfectly.
you still smiling at haruto, secretly adoring how cool he is while working, noticing jihoon looking at you with a smirk on his face, you quickly change your focus to the snack you bought
you don't want anyone to know your crush on haruto because they're gonna debut soon, and rookies can't date. you felt butterflies whenever haruto talks to you or smile at you, although you're the one who always starts the conversation, yet haruto never failed to make your day better
you noticed how haruto always awkward whenever you guys having a conversation and it made him cuter! thinking he must be awkward with a person besides his members
"ready, haruto?" the producer asked through the mic
haruto gives thumbs up, showing he ready to show off his skill to you although you know how good he in rap through ygtb.
he starts rapping in his native language, making you surprised, amazed at how his voice got so much deeper than rapping in korean.
"y/n cover your mouth, i'm afraid if fly flew into your mouth" jihoon joked, making all of the members laugh at you, you frowned at him but of course jihoon, being jihoon,  he keeps teasing you more and more.
"it's cute how you flirt with haruto with the bead necklace"
"i wasn't flirting!" you backup yourself
the members gave a sly smile at the youngest, obviously didn't trust all the words that come out from your mouth.
"yeah, but your dad said you took the class for the necklace, and you hate beads since they're so small and hard to do anything with it" said jihoon
you sighed as you can't think of another reply, because all of jihoon said is true.
"am i being obvious?" you finally being your true self towards the olders
hyunsuk nodded
"we can already tell you like haruto— the way you talk, see, and smile to him is different whenever you with us beside you only do bead necklace for him only," hyunsuk said, faking his tear at the fact you didn't give them your handmade bead necklace.
"haruto must know about this too, right?"
"nah he doesn't" junkyu replied
"why are you so sure?" you asked
"i was his roommate and i can tell he clearly in love with you, he slept with your necklace yesterday and we all notice how he smiling like an idiot whenever you around"
you couldn't help but smile at junkyu's statement
"you know y/n,his part in 'boy' he wrote himself. and guess who is the lyrics dedicated to?" yoshi asked
"who?"
"to you of course," mashiho replied
"seriously?" you turn your head, facing haruto who now rapping to his part.
"what does that mean?" she asked
"it means, my muse is so beautiful that i can't breathe just by meeting her eyes" asahi spoke, grinning at the youngest
the members start teasing you, making you turn all red. you cover your red ears when haruto gets out of the recording room. haruto frowned when he saw you covered your ears, did his rap didn't impress you?
jihoon and hyunsuk who sit in front of you could only smirk when they saw how fluttered you are.
+.*
as usual, you only sit on the couch looking at the twelve boys practicing so hard for their debut, your dad keeps correcting their choreo and makes sure they all dancing in synchronize or they need to repeat all over again.
you felt pity for them, but they need to practice for a good result. you keep your eyes on haruto, ah, how charming is he? the way he laughs whenever the others making a joke.
"okay, take 5," said the coach, making them all lay on the floor, catching their breath. you smiled as you take fruit juice from your bag pocket to give to haruto but your dad snatches it away from you and innocently drinks the juice.
"how thoughtful my daughter is? brought juice for her dad" said your dad, continue drinking the juice. you scrunched your face, you want to yell at your father but you decided to not make a scene, instead of doing what you have in your mind- which is throwing a punch on your dad's arm, you push him and leave the dance practice room with a frowned face.
jihoon and hyunsuk laughing, knowing their coach purposely doing that to tease his daughter. meanwhile haruto just finds you sulking is cute(not fully knowing what happen), he just wants to squish that tiny girl.
hours later, you come back to the practice room after wandering around the company. you surprised that they still practice although it's 8 pm. they should head home, right?
as you want to ask your dad when will they go home, a groan, making everyone froze and look at haruto who already lie down, holding his ankle. you quickly go to him and check his ankle
"i think he sprained his ankle," you said and help haruto to stand–with the help of the other of course. haruto winced as the sprained feet touch the floor, without saying anything you took off haruto's shoes and socks, taking ice packs from junghwan who go to the store when hyunsuk ordered him to buy ice packs
"wait, i get the first aid," you said and left making all of the members, including your dad to look at haruto
"what?" haruto asked
"i know you like my daughter kid, just confess i'm tired of answering her about you every day," he said
haruto widen his eyes
"w-what?"
"just confess ruto, i'm 100% sure y/n accept you," hyunsuk said
"if you still not sure, please take a look how fast y/n go to you when you sprained your ankle and the fact she only made beads necklace only for you" jihoon added
hearing their words making haruto smile shyly, she likes him back...?
seeing haruto smiling like an idiot, they all left the practice room as you arrived with first aid in your hands. you ignored the sly smile on others face, haruto's ankle is now more important
you kneel in front of him carefully bandaging his ankle
"you need to rest, no practice, walking making a late recovery," you said
haruto smile
"thank you y/n, i appreciate it" he said
you nod as you can't think any of response, you worried about haruto's injury, their debut only a month away
"i like you" his sudden words making you froze, slowly you look up, facing haruto
"what did you—"
"i like you" he cut you off
you pin the bandage and stand, making haruto look up at you. your smile making haruto's nervousness faded away.
"that is so sudden? i thought you could make it more romantic?"
haruto froze, feeling regret confessing to you without anything special. he needs to give a good impression as a boyfriend! - you could do better haruto! he thought. he apologizes to you in which you reply with your beautiful giggle.
"i'm just playing with you" you said and take a seat beside haruto, taking a brave move, you rest your head on his broad shoulder.
"but really, i'm sorry for confessing unromantically"
"ruto, the rap in your debut album is amazing, and that's the most romantic thing someone ever done to me. thank you" you said while smiling, thinking about his rap.
haruto scoffs, he knows so well yoshi said this to you because yoshi is the one who knew the rap is meant for someone he loves.  however, he also wants to hug the older as he 'helps' his feelings towards you.
"let's go home, you need plenty of rest" you said, helping the boy to stand up
"can you come to my dorm? i need someone to take care of me, i can't walk it will cause a late recovery someone said" haruto said in a teasing way making you slap his arm, laughing at his words
"i will make sure dad send me there tomorrow"
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