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#they sucked out all of his flavor and everything that made him cool. never buying it
dois-funnyzone · 22 days
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does anyone have a good full-body reference of the form units take when they engage with alear in fe engage
(this is the type of outfit what im referring to btw, idk if i worded that eloquently )
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like, the artbook that was scanned and uploaded online has full-body refs of all the other engage forms in the base games but not alear for some damn reason 😭 is it because of spoilers???? there's a lot of other spoilery stuff in this book though...
doesnt have to be art (i kind of doubt it exists if it's not in the artbook), could be a good 360 view of the outfit in game (for both guys and girls). though not just the waist up preview of the character when you're selecting them in game. someone on tumblr has collected everyone's engage forms using that method but it's way too cropped for my liking. i'm looking for a full body view of the whole fit. (absolutely no hate to this user, they clearly put a lot of work into gathering all these images, but i wanted to get that out there before someone sends me to their profile that i've already seen)
(i guess i'd also like references for the bracelet forms as well. i don't own the dlc because it's expensive tbh so i have even less access to these outfits myself. but i'd like to have the alear fit as well)
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beelsnack · 3 years
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Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC
In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague  some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.
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Lucifer: “You should be resting.”
The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.
“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.
“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”
“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.
It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”
“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.
“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.
It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.
Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”
Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!
…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!
“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”
“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”
Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.
“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.
“...Just one more thing.”
“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”
Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.
“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.
“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”
Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”
The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.
As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!
That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.
“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”
“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”
They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”
“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “
Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.
…Oh. They looked really cute like that.
“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”
He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.
“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”
They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.
“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”
Satan: His leg was falling asleep.
He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?
They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.
“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.
It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.
Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.
Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”
“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”
They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.
“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”
When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”
With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.
While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”
Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”
With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”
“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”
“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.
“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.
“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.
“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”
Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.
Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.
The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.
Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.
“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”
They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.
“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”
Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”
“Have some more.”
“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”
They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”
“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”
Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.
“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”
“I’m not a baby…”
“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”
He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.
“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”
“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”
Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”
The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.
“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”
“That sounds counter-intuitive.”
“Tell me about it.”
Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”
They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”
“Come here, I’ll show you.”
He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”
“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”
“No, seriously, just listen.”
He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.
He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.
“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “
“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”
Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.
“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”
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mirror-vicit-omnia · 3 years
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Ya know what? F*ck it. DMC Heathers!AU where Dante is Jason Dean but never tries to blow up the school or murder anybody and the reader is Veronica.
Dante has an adoptive jackass dad, Big Blood Dean. Sparda is in hell and Eva is dead. Vergil is a missing person's case no one can solve. Big Blood Dean adopted him for the money and drags Dante all across the map with his shady deconstruction company.
The reader is in the same situation as veronica, it goes to canon. They get an in with the Heathers, there's probably a Martha involved.
Fight For Me. Just imagine Dante kicking ass. Those jocks wouldn't stand a chance in a million years.
I like the West End performance for all this.
Dante doesn't quote Baudelaire (if this was Vergil instead of Dante, yes he would have)
Reader: "Okay, don't just drop a snappy one-liner and then walk away! Excuse me? I didn't catch your name?"
Dante, all devil-may-care swagger: "Well, I didn't throw it."
If you think Jason Dean was a good fighter, you should see dante. He's always finding places to train with his sword and picking fights to keep sharp. Yep, he still has demonic powers and demonic heritage and a demonic sword.
He's been dragged to 10 different high schools. Now, Dante is the kind of guy who can just drop everything, pick up and go, if it weren't for the fact that he's adoptive dad sucks. Yeah, he's asking himself these days why he didn't just bail sooner.
He probably tried to run away when he was younger and the cops found him. Even young little Dante knew not to let anyone know about his demon heritage I guess. I don't know.
Anyway, enough logic!
The reader and Dante do not cause the death of Heather chandler. Maybe they think they did, cuz Dante still made the joke of poisoning Heather, and the mugs still got switched up, but later on after the entire world thinks Heather Chandler died a saint, the reader tells Dante that she doesn't think whatever Heather drank was what killed her.
Of course, the body is gone and so is any evidence that could have told them otherwise.
Meanwhile, Heather Duke rises in red and Kurt and Ram insist that they slept with the reader and did drugs.
Dante picks the reader up when they fall apart crying. He does set up the plan of baiting the jocks to the cemetery at dawn. But he's actually planning to knock them out and do some crazy embarrassing stuff with them, the kind of immature terror that only Young men can conceive of and inflict on one another.
Chloroform is involved. Dante packs his gun for safety. He's not a demon Hunter yet, but he knows what's out there, and there's no way he's walking into a cemetery without one weapon at least.
So, the jocks were probably going to wake up naked and tied up on a monument in the Town square or a landmark for everyone to see. It might even make the papers, since this town is so small. Dante would fleece them for their money, and encourage the reader to do the same.
"Hey, how about we divvy it up? One for you, one for me. One for you, and one, two for me- Ow! Fine, whatever, take what you want!"
But what was meant to be a life ruining prank goes horribly wrong. They got Ram, but Kurt's streaking through the graveyard in his skivvies.
Dante sprints after him. "Don't worry, I'll get him back!"
Funny. Kurt should be here. Dante knows how fast a human can run. He checks behind the tombstones, but the jock simply isn't here. Like he just disappeared.
There's a shift in the air. Dante stands still. Even for a cemetery, it's too quiet. Not peaceful. Tents. Restless. Dante's just trotting back when he knows. The reader feels something, too, that pricking in the hind brain that sets the hairs standing. Dante flicks back the red tails of his duster and pulls out his gun.
Reader: "Woah! Are those guns real?!"
Dante flexes his bicep: "'Course they are, babe!"
Reader: "No! I mean th-!"
Bang! A murder of crows take to the air. The only thing more unnerving than the mist and the gunshot is the cold hard gleam in Dante's eye.
And something in the tombstones growls.
Basically, there's probably some small hellgate in the area. Weak demons are leaking through.
The plot turns away from Heather's and fake suicides and mental illness into an '80s horror slasher flick in which Dante and the reader survive and work together to break the hell gate. Dante's dad might end up dead in the process, not by his hands but just because. Alternatively, Dante decides that he's turning 18 in a couple of months and soon the law won't be able to chase after him. He doesn't know what he's going to do with his life, but he sure as hell isn't letting big blood Dean drag him anywhere anymore.
Either way, it's implied that Dante finds his calling through this story.
And becomes a demon hunter.
Demons might have been possessing people or killing people and making it look like suicides so they can drain the humans of their blood when they're brought to the morgue. A bunch of lesser demons serving a relatively stronger demon.
It serves a similar effect as the sensationalization of fake suicides in the musical's plot. Only now the reader forged the suicide notes and set up the fake suicides in order to protect them both. There's no way the law was going to buy the truth.
The reader still has to deal with Heather duke, Heather mcnamara, the horrors of the hierarchy of the high school. They deal with Miss Fleming and the assembly. Is Heather McNamara from actually committing suicide, but then there's still a demon attack that they have to somehow protect both of them from. And this is taking place in the '80s, so there are no cell phones and the landline is cut.
The hellgate was dormant under the boiler room in the high school.
If Dante got possessed, we could still have some Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) and the reader shoots him but it's Dante so he survives!
Whatever was possessing him was nowhere near as good at fighting as a human.
Cherry flavored slushies. Dante drinks cherry flavored slushies, and when he sings I thought emotional part where he accidentally reveals thoughts of suicide, he tries to brush it off with humor, as always.
Still our favorite chaotic half demon.
Cherry flavored slurpees and pizza and teenage detective work that dpuble as dates. Dante doesn't give a s*** and just wants to be pointed in the direction of the fight. The reader is actually doing research and carefully trying to piece together what is going on. Dante provides whatever he knows on demons. And hell.
Dante: "Yeah, my dad is the legendary demon Sparda. My mom and brother died in a demon attack on our house and that's why I'm in foster care."
Reader: "Okay... Sounds fake, but okay..."
Dante gets shot right in the chest. Reader freaks out, but still manages to blow up the hell gate with a bomb and thermals. To collapse the whole gymnasium, which is empty.
They crawl out of the dust. Shaking, a lot to process all at once.
Then there's a whistle. And impressed whistle. The reader looks up. It's Dante, standing strong and straight and waving at dust like he's not squirting blood out of the hole in his chest. "Now, that was some fireworks! Remind me to invite you to my next birthday party."
And that was when the reader believed that he was actually half demon.
Plot twist a faculty member opened the hell gate and it's Miss Fleming the hippie.
I wanted to feel more 80s than it sounds here, and other than that that's all I've got.
Edit 8/20/21
The reader wears the blue Heathers uniform. Short grey skirt and all.
Or if you don't like skirts, then trousers. Tight, flattering trousers. Dante loves to watch how they pull in all the right places.
The two of you are hanging out upstairs in his room, talking about the deaths. The read is worried, fretting over the mystery, flipping through pages in their notebook; Dante sprawls next to them, half hanging off the bed, head in their lap, yawning. The front door opens and bangs shut. Dante springs out of his seat. Suddenly, he wants to get out if the house.
"Hey, do you want some ice cream? Dairy Queen, strawberry sundae, you and me. C'mon!"
Big Blood Dean stomps upstairs. "Dante! Get yer worthless ass in gear! We gotta a job, you gotta go on a supply run-"
Dean barges right on in. Looks at Dante. Looks at the reader. "You got company."
"S'there a problem?" Dante sounds cool. Too cool. He's on his feet and wandering about the room, like he's bored. The reader tenses. Dean is huge, but he somehow looms beyond his size.
Dante does his careless waltz. The reader can't take their eyes off Dean. Like a frightened animal. How can Dante expose his back like that?!
But by getting up, he's put himself between you and his adoptive parent.
"Get rid of them," orders Dean.
Shrugging, Dante pats your knee. "Alright, c'mon, babe." He leads you by the elbow to the window. You still keep an eye on Dean. He's glaring.
Dante throws open the window and bows. "After you!"
"Um, the front door is...?"
He's not serious.
"Go on!"
He's serious.
Hesitant, you stick a leg through and let him push you the rest of the way out. Then he slips out, too
"You come back here, boy-!"
"See ya, old man!" Dante slams the window shut.
"Is he going to lock you out?" You ask as you shimmy down the drain pipe.
"He can't. You broke my window lock."
Dante buys two Sundaes because he doesn't want to share; after he polishes off his, he's snatching bites of yours.
He used the "Nevada account."
(Update 9-20-21)
And this whole story would be even better with JD!Virgil instead.
Virgil didn't have time yet to harden from the demon attack before Big Blood Dean adopted him.
This is all much the same as with JD!Dante, except that Virgil gets darker (not that Veronica!Reader knows how bad it is; they didn't accidentally murder Heather together) carries a gun and everything.
In the big final fight, Virgil runs out of ammo. Demons have cornered him. It's the house, his Mom, Dante, all over again.
One blink later, the demons are all dead, slashed open. Virgil shakes as he yanks on the handle in his grip, and pulls out the blade from a soft belly.
Yamato. How did it get here? These demons are unrecognizable, like dead carrion at a butchers. Did I do this? He thinks, distant and fuzzy, as he watches his hands like watching a film as they flip his sword.
Humans are weak. Humans are wretched.
The reader's smile passes through his mind.
... Perhaps not all humans are... Deserving of death.
They're just weak. Virgil flicks gore off the sword, and heads to his house, looking for Big Blood Dean.
He didn't like the way Dean had scared you with the "Norwegian in the Boiler Room" talk, anyway.
(Spoilers: Dean doesn't live. And Virgil loves you, but this was mostly for him. It's the tipping point, and afterwards he chooses his demonic heritage over humanity. But less "kill them all" and more "purge those who dare cross our path- but don't tell Reader, they get upset easily." What they don't know can't hurt them- and you have Virgil to thank.)
You two definitely run away together at the end. Off to explore knowledge of demons and Hell and whatever else.
You want to seal off the Hellgates that are being all over the world.
Virgil wants to level-grind.
It's couples-time, really.
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nutmegalomania · 3 years
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Movie Night
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a mammon x male reader ff
description: on a night when all you wanted to do was to get an early night's sleep, mammon decided to barge into your room and force you into a movie night. you had thought your hormones were under control, but you soon snapped. what first started out as the two of you innocently watching the wide variety of movies he brought turned into a steamy night with the movie night long forgotten.
ingredients: mammon (obey me!)/reader, male reader, mammon (obey me!), bottom mammon, movie night, smut, blow jobs, anal fingering, gay sex
flavor: spicy 🌶️
calories: 9,410
🥐
You sat on your back atop your bed, flitting through the manga you asked to borrow from Levi, when a knock on the sound of your door creaking open grabbed your attention. The manga shut as you turned your attention to the intruder who didn’t even have the manners to knock, and you sighed when Mammon slinked into your room with several movies in his hands. Instead of greeting you, he plopped down in front of your TV and turned it on, ignoring you as you shuffled into a sitting position.
“A ‘hello’ would be nice once in a while, Mammon,” you said, and he swatted a hand at you without taking his attention away from the blue screen in front of him. 
A deep sigh left you as you stood from your bed, dizziness taking over you for a few seconds before you blinked a few times and walked over to Mammon. You braced your hands on your knees as you bent over to get a look at the collection of movies he had splayed in his lap, but he leaned forward to cover them from your vision.
“If you don’t tell me why the hell you barged into my room at 10 pm with a bunch of movies, I’ll kick you out and lock the door... after I steal my duplicate room key back from you,” you said when he opened his mouth to argue back.
At that, he shut his mouth, and he turned his head in your direction with wide, frightened eyes at your threat. You gave him a soft smile, but your eyes told him not to fuck with you. He barged in during your manga reading session, though you hadn’t been able to concentrate on the words and drawings as your pent up sexual frustrations begged for your attention. Frankly, the last thing you needed was Mammon coming into your room when all you wanted was to jerk off and go to sleep.
“The... The—ummm—No one else would watch movies with me. It’s-It’s not like I want to watch ‘em with you or anything. Ya got that?! You’re the only person I could think of that would be willing to watch ‘em with me. Not that you’re special at all! Just my last choice, okay? Don’t get any funny ideas, ya hear!” he sputtered out, face reddening as he avoided your eyes.
With a groan, you sat down on the floor beside him, noticing how his body jolted when your knee touched his leg. You stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back onto your hands while you fixed him with an intrigued stare.
“Okay. I’ll entertain you for a bit. Not like I have much to do either way.” Your head rolled to the side as you watched Mammon fidget with the movies in his lap. You reached a hand into his lap to grab out a movie case. He tensed when your hand grazed his inner thigh, and you pretended not to see it, though the redness of his ears made you want to tease him some more. As you flipped the movie around in your hand, you hummed. “Isn’t this a horror? I thought you hated those types of movies.”
“I-I thought someone else would enjoy it. It was just a suggestion! I didn’t wanna try to overcome my fear of them or something like that. Don’t go spreading false information to any of the others, ya hear me!”  
You held up your hands in mock surrender, a deep chuckle making your chest bounce while he tried defending himself with a red face. “I won’t. I won’t. I promise!” 
He pouted at your reaction and snatched the movie out of your hand before throwing it onto your bed, and out of your reach. You opened your mouth to speak your thoughts, but Mammon grabbed a random movie from his pile of what looked like five movies—six including the discarded horror movie—and held it up. From the cover, it seemed to be an action spy movie, a man with his back facing the viewer as a woman held him close against her body with her face giving a sultry look while she held a gun up looking at you. He opened it and slid the disc out before he got onto all fours to crawl forward to the DVD player to put the disc in.
You leaned back and honed your eyes onto the curve of his ass through his jeans as he stuck it out while he inserted the disc, and you mentally slapped yourself when you imagined something else entering a place you wouldn’t speak of. The DVD player whirred as it sucked the disc in and read it, and before long, ads popped up. Mammon cursed as he searched for the remote, and you grabbed it from the table next to you to hand to him. Your hands touched each other when he took it from you, and the warmth from his fingertips lingered against your cool skin. This time, Mammon acted as if nothing happened, but the redness of his neck betrayed his embarrassment. 
As he skipped the ads and reached the title screen of the movie, you decided to ask the all important question. “Did you bring popcorn?”
In response, he reached into his jacket and pulled out two packages of popcorn, a serious look on his face as he scanned the screen. A chuckle left you that turned into full blown laughter with you clutching your stomach and rolling on the floor.
“What-what are ya laughing ‘bout?!” Mammon asked as he turned his attention towards your body, wondering what drugs you had taken.
“I didn’t expect you to actually have popcorn! And your face when you pulled it out!” You let out a series of breathy laughs, and you sat up and crossed your legs as you let your laughter fade out. “You didn’t have to look so serious! I thought you were planning how to knock me out and steal all my shit while using popcorn as your distraction.”
“Sh-shut up! I had to hide it from Beel or else he’d interrupt.” Once those words left Mammon’s mouth, his hands shot up to cover it, and he looked at you with wide eyes.
You tilted your head to the side as you watched his face redden even more than it was—which you didn’t believe to be possible. “Oh? So does that mean you didn’t ask the others before me?” When he shifted from side to side, you leaned in closer to his face, and he avoided your face. “Or am I reading too deeply into things? Was it just a slip of the tongue? Is there something Beel would interrupt going on here?”
“Just… Just be quiet! It’s nothing, all right?! You’re-you’re just reading too deep into what I-I said. I-Idiot!” he said, and his stuttering made your heart clench from how endearing you found it. You wanted to tease him more, but at the same time, you didn���t want to scare him off so that you could see how everything played out.
You’d be a good boy and comply with his wishes for a movie night, no matter how much your hormones raged on inside you and urged you to tease him until he became a sputtering, blushing, crying mess underneath you. Now your groin burned as images of a crying Mammon popped into your mind, and you groaned as you adjusted your sitting position. As Mammon stood up to pop the popcorn in your microwave, you grabbed his wrist and dragged his attention towards your figure on the floor. You thanked your oversized t-shirt for covering the raging boner you had now as he looked at you.
“I’ll pop the bags. You just ready everything else, okay?” you told him, relieved when he nodded his head and plopped back down onto the floor as you stood up. 
You hissed as you walked towards your microwave, your erection rubbing against your thighs as you moved, and you were glad Mammon focused on readying the TV and seats for the two of you to snuggle into. You shoved the first bag of popcorn into the microwave and pulled out a bowl to put it in. While you stood there, waiting for the timer to run out, you willed your boner to disappear, and you thought about Lucifer scolding you for taking part in Belphie and Satan’s shenanigans against him. That seemed to do the trick, for now at least, and the timer beeped. After emptying the bag into the bowl, you shoved the second package into the microwave. The smell of buttery popcorn wafted through your room, and you hummed in content before you emptied the last bag into a new bowl for yourself. As you readied yourself to walk over to Mammon, he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes already in puppy mode, and you sighed as you waited for his request.
“Could ya get some drinks too?” he asked.
“What? Where the hell would I get drinks from?” You grabbed the two bowls of popcorn and headed over to him. When you bent down to set them on the ground, he pointed towards the fridge in your room that tended to house yogurt or pudding that Beel asked you to hide from Mammon. You looked at Mammon through slitted eyes, and he gave you a smile that made you roll your eyes before you listened to him and walked over to your mini fridge. The moment you opened it, a pack of sodas greeted you, and you glared at Mammon who avoided your eyes. “When did you buy these and put them in here?”
“Well—ya see—the thing is....” he trailed off, and you put a hand on your hip.
“Mammon.”
At the no-nonsense tone in your voice, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you. “I bought ‘em a few days ago and snuck in while ya were sleeping to stash ‘em away.”
With an irritated sigh, you grabbed two cans and walked over to him to bonk him on the head with his. “That’s it. Gimme your copy of my key right now. Who knows what other shit you’ve done in my room while I’ve been asleep.” You sat down next to him and held out your hand, but the cool feeling of metal against your palm never appeared. 
Mammon shook his head and leaned away from you, clutching the side of his jacket, where you assumed he kept the key to your room. You let out a deep sigh and leaned towards him to snatch the key from him, but he leaned further away.
“I’m not playing your games, Mammon. Just give me the damn key,” you said, fed up with his lack of cooperation. Again, he shook his head, and you pushed yourself to your feet to tower over his sitting figure. He looked up at you with wide eyes, and you took his surprise as your chance to grab him and grab at his jacket to steal your key back.
“No! Ya ain’t getting it back! Over my dead body!” he said as he clutched his chest and twisted his body around to kick at you with pitiful hits that only served to distance the two of you and not stop your pursuit. 
You drew closer to him, and he leaned back, letting out a grunt as his back hit the ground. In that quick second, you jumped on top of him, pushing his legs down and sitting on them to keep him from kicking you. As you straddle his legs, you leaned over him and pried his hands away from his jacket. You held his wrist together above his head with one hand while you used the other to search his jacket. Your hand rubbed against his chest, and he pursed his lips and turned his head to the side, neck and ears burning red while his legs fidgeted underneath you. His body twitched when you ran across his nipple through the fabric of his shirt, and when you felt the cool metal of the key, you snatched it out and released his wrists and clambered off him before you did something you’d regret. 
“Got it. Now you can’t barge into my room in the middle of the night to watch me sleep,” you said, hoping a little joke would lightened the mood, but Mammon didn’t respond as he laid on the floor for a few more seconds before he sat up with a flushed face, fixed his crumpled jacket, and slid into his spot.
He grabbed his popcorn bucket and placed it in his lap, remote in hand. Without a word, he hit play and opened his soda, the fizzing pop of it echoing in the quiet room. Instead of pushing the issue, you stuffed the key into the pocket of your sweatpants and grabbed your own popcorn and soda to enjoy the movie. To be honest, you didn’t even remember what it was about as your mind busied you with images of Mammon blushing underneath you, body jolting as you ran your hands across the naked expanse of his chest. Your mind only registered flashing lights that flitted on the screen and mixed with yells. You couldn’t tell if Mammon was into it either with the way his eyes seemed hollow, as if he were looking through the TV. 
Before long, the movie ended, and he instantly shoved a new one in without saying anything. You didn’t complain, assuming he would be uncomfortable talking to you after the situation that transpired between the two of you a few hours before the first movie. He put on a romance movie next, and while you tried to focus on the story this time, the moment the two main characters kissed, all you could think of was you and Mammon kissing instead. You wondered how soft his lips would feel, if you’d be able to taste his chapstick or if he’d taste like popcorn and sickenly sweet soda, if he’d wrap his arms around your neck and press his body against yours, whether or not he’d use his tongue, or if he’d moan and squirm as you deepen the kiss. 
You grabbed a pillow from your bed and covered your lap with it, hoping to hide your boner from Mammon. His eyes focused on the movie though, and he reached into his bowl of popcorn to grab more, only to pout when he felt nothing. He had finished it an hour before and seemed to have forgotten. You, on the other hand, still had almost your full bowl of popcorn as you were too preoccupied with your dirty thoughts to eat any. You handed him your bowl of no-longer-warm popcorn, and he perked up to take it from you. A content smile came to his face as he shoveled more popcorn into his mouth, not caring if it wasn’t fresh. 
The credits greeted you the next time you blinked and exited your thoughts, and Mammon sat there, sniffling as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. You didn’t know what he was sad over since you couldn’t focus on this movie either. You reached onto the table next to you, grabbed the tissues, and handed them to him. While he blew his nose, you checked the time, taking a deep breath when you saw that it was only 1:36 am. As Mammon reached for another movie in his stash, you grabbed his hand. 
“Why don’t we mix things up a bit?” you said when he gave you a questioning look. 
Before he could ask what you meant, you scooted back towards your bed, grabbed the horror movie off of it, and scooted back to him. His eyes zoomed in on the cover of it, and they widened as he shook his head. 
“Why not? We could help you get over your fear of them. Think of it like exposure therapy. I’ll also be here to fend off any scary monsters that are lurking in the dark,” you said, and he hesitantly nodded his head, looking a little relieved. You offered him a soft smile and put the movie in. 
A scream sounded when it started, and Mammon jumped, the kernels in the bowl flying out of it and hitting the floor. You gave him a worried look, unsure if it was a good idea now, and he only shook his head and focused on the movie. Whenever suspenseful music came on, his body tensed, and during jumpscares, he’d fling his body around out of fright. When he had one especially bad fright, you paused the movie and scooted over to him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close to your body.
You rubbed up and down on his shoulder. He looked up at you, tears in his eyes. Your breathing stopped as you took in his disheveled appearance, teary eyes, and red face, and thoughts swam around your head and made your brain come close to short circuiting. Shallow breaths pushed through his lips as his chest moved up and down, and you swallowed thickly. Once he calmed down, he placed a hand on your thigh to push himself up, but it slipped, and your eyes widened when it brushed against your erection.
You turned your head towards him so slowly as everything felt like it was in slow motion. Mammon retracted his hand and shot up, and he stared back at you with wide eyes. The silence between the two of you resounded in your ears, louder than anything you’d ever heard before. Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to say something, but you couldn’t come up with anything to say. You were happy when Mammon said something, but his words were the last thing you’d expected him to say, only hearing them in your dreams.
“Do-do ya want some help with that?”
At the embarrassed tone in his voice, your body tensed. “What?” was all you could say, and you wanted to slap yourself for sounding so stupid.
“It looks painful,” he said as his eyes zoned in on your raging boner, and you realized he had knocked the pillow away from your lap in his haste to stand up.
“I-uh…” You couldn’t think of anything to respond with. You wanted to shout “Yes, please!”, but you didn’t want to scare him away and let him in on your carnal desires that revolved around him. “N-no! I can… I can take care of it myself.” The awkwardness in the room made you want to run into your bathroom to take care of it, but with the way Mammon kept staring at your erection, you felt that moving would be a bad idea. You grabbed the pillow and held it against your front as you stood up, Mammon’s eyes trailing up to your embarrassed face. “Good night, Mammon. Uh… See you tomorrow?” You wanted to jump into the burning pits of hell and die a painful death.
You tried to side shuffle your way to the bathroom, but before you made it far, Mammon walked up to you and pushed you down onto the bed. You let out a surprised grunt as your back sank into your mattress. The pillow disappeared from its spot covering your boner, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see Mammon sitting on his knees between your legs. You sucked in a deep breath as he slipped his warm hands under your shirt and ran them across your torso. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he stared at the bulge in your sweatpants with hungry eyes, and your dick twitched.
He brought a shaky hand to the waistband of your sweatpants and boxers, and he dragged the both down, gasping when your erection sprang out in front of him. He grabbed the base of your cock in his hand, and his eyes trembled as he felt the heat from your shaft seep into his palm. His hesitation made you stop for a second.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Mammon. I can take care of it myself,” you told him, but he shook his head, fluffy white hair bouncing to show you his disagreement with your statement.
Mammon leaned in close to your dick, sucking in a deep breath when it throbbed in his hand, and placed a kiss to the smooth skin of your shaft. Your cock twitched at the feeling of his soft, warm lips against you, and the way he looked you straight in the eyes with hooded eyelids and irises burning with sexual desire made you want to take him right there
“I want to do it for ya,” he rasped, and you didn’t get the chance to answer before he licked a slow strip up your shaft while his thumb circled the tip, and your body flinched when his thumbnail scraped against your slit.
“Mammon,” you groaned as he pressed his thumb down against your slit, his soft lips working on the sides of your cock. You needed his mouth around you… now.
At the low, gravelly sound of your voice, Mammon squirmed in his spot on the floor, but he complied to your silent request. His thumb stopped circling your head, the warmth of his smooth lips soon replacing the rough pad of his finger. You let out a shaky breath as his lips parted, and warmth encased your tip as he slipped your length into his mouth. A hand grabbed at Mammon’s hair, and he groaned as you tugged at his roots, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure down your cock. 
“Shit…” you breathed out, and Mammon dragged his mouth back up to your tip while his tongue swirled around it and picked up the beads of precum that spilled from the slit. 
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked at your tip, and soft hums of content left his throat as the bitter taste of your precum reached his taste buds and spread across his tongue. You ran your fingers through his hair, the soft strands caressing the skin of your digits as he relaxed his jaw and pushed his head down further on your cock. You bit your lip as the warmth from his mouth hit your dick and made it twitch, and when your tip pressed against the back of his throat, you couldn’t hold back the loud moan as his throat clenched around your length. You wanted to shove his head further down on your shaft, but the tears in his eyes made you stop, and he pulled off you as he gagged. Coughs wracked his body, and you grabbed the sides of his face, thumbs swiping at the tears spilling from his reddening eyes.
“Are you okay? If it’s too hard on you, we can just move on,” you said. The way his body shook with each cough stabbed at your chest, and you were five seconds away from telling him to drink some water while you busied yourself in the bathroom, but he shook his head again.
He looked you dead in the eyes, determination flashing through them, and the breath caught in your chest. He scooted closer to you until your legs sandwiched him, and your cock stood directly in front of his face. His pink tongue flicked out to swipe across his thick bottom lip, and he took a deep breath.
“I just need to get used to it. I ain’t stopping unless ya tell me you want to,” he said, and you opened your mouth to respond.
With one hand, he grabbed your cock, and the other reached up to settle high on your stomach. He applied pressure with his hand on your stomach until you flopped back onto your bed, and he wrapped his lips back around your tip. This time, he took a deep breath through his nose before he relaxed his jaw and pushed his head down your shaft. His throat closed around your shaft, and you squeezed your eyes shut. After a few seconds, it relaxed, and you hissed as more of you slipped into his mouth. You covered your eyes with your arm, trying your best to yourself back from thrusting into his mouth. 
Before long, his nose bumped against your pubic bone, and he hummed at the feeling of your large cock sitting inside his mouth and throbbing against his tongue. You couldn’t stop your hips from thrusting upwards, and Mammon let out a surprised gag. 
“Shit! I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it back.”
He breathed out through his nose to tell you it was all right as he settled himself back down until all of you was inside his mouth. He stayed there for a few seconds to let his throat adjust to your size, and he pulled his head up, a wet sucking sound following before he shoved his head back down and repeating it again. Your stomach and legs tensed as he sucked in slowly every time he pulled up, and you sat up to place a steady hand on the back of his head. Once he fully got used to feeling you entering his mouth, he sped his pace, head bobbing up and down as wet gagging sounds echoed throughout your room. 
The warmth of his mouth mixing with the pressure from his sucking made your high come to you faster than you would have liked, and you twitched inside his mouth, signaling that you were close. He looked up at you through his bangs, his yellow and blue eyes piercing into yours, saliva spilling from his lips as he bobbed up and down on your cock. Tears formed a shiny gloss over his eyes as lust twinkled inside them, and you couldn’t stop your body from tensing as you twitched in his mouth and released your cum. Mammon didn’t pull off no matter how much you tried to tug him off. A throaty groan left your throat as your body tensed as you released inside his mouth.
As you filled his mouth with your thick, warm cum, his body twitched, and a loud, muffled moan left him. You pulled out of his mouth as a final string of cum shot out onto his face, and he stuck his tongue out to catch what he could as he let out ragged pants. While your orgasm calmed down, you took the chance to look over him and his disheveled appearance. His silky hair stuck up in random directions, and a mixture of saliva and tears made his reddened face shiny in the lights of your bedroom. His jacket and shirt were crumpled, and as you dragged your eyes down further, you sucked in a breath.
“Did… Did you just cum from sucking me off?” you said in surprise as you noticed the stain in his pants, and Mammon nodded slowly as his hooded eyes stared right into yours, his hands swiping your cum off of his face and shoving it into his mouth as a blush spread across his cheeks and ears. He swirled his lips around his digits, bobbing his head on them to get every last drop he could from them, and you groaned at the sight, your dick springing right back up.
“Get on the bed,” you ordered as blood rushed down to your erection, and he didn’t need to be told twice before he slipped off his belt, climbed onto the bed, and laid on his back, legs spread and the bulge in his pants prominent.
As you looked at his wet lips and lustful eyes, you bit your lips and ran your hands along the dips in his waist until you grabbed his jacket and helped slide it off him. He sat up to let you slip it free from his arms, his face centimeters from yours and his breath fanning against your lips. You leaned forward to capture his lips, but he laid back on the bed, his shirt riding up to expose the smooth muscles of his stomach. You let out an irritated breath and jabbed the inside of your cheek with your tongue, but you didn’t stop raking your eyes over his figure. On your bed. Ready to be fucked by you.
The fact that the reason for your sexual frustrations laid in front of you, ready for you to fuck him senseless, still felt like a dream to you. Mammon noticed you losing yourself in your thoughts, and he grabbed the collar of your shirt to pull you down on top of him. As you braced your forearms on either side of his head, he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened as you felt the softness of his lips rubbing against yours. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as you realized just how well your lips fit into Mammon’s, as if they were destined for each other. 
Your sexual fantasies took control of you, and while he softly kissed you, your tongue slithered between his lips and entered his mouth, eyes closing. He let out a surprised squeak that you swallowed and tensed underneath you as your tongue rubbed against his, but before long, he relaxed and let you swirl your tongue around his. Though the two of you had just eaten popcorn, his saliva tasted sweet against your taste buds, and you couldn’t get enough of it. Mammon fisted your shirt tighter as you deepened the kiss and licked inside his mouth, savoring the flavor of him as your mind clouded with lust. He shuddered when you licked his teeth, and his body warmed up underneath you until you could feel it through your clothes. When you pulled back to catch your breath and opened your eyes, your breathing stopped as Mammon looked at you with a red face, eyes hazy as soft pants pushed past his red and swollen lips.
“Fuck…” you said as your cock twitched in your pants, begging to be inside Mammon.
You dipped your head back down to recapture his lips as your hands ran underneath his shirt that exposed his stomach. Mammon’s stomach tensed underneath your cool hands, and he bit your bottom lip and tugged at it, letting out a content sigh as you rubbed his sides. The calloused skin of your hands caressed his smooth skin, and he shuddered underneath your touch as your hands slid higher up his body, pushing his shirt higher up on his body. Your thumb ran over his hard nipple, and he mewled, eyes screwing shut as his chest pushed up in the air until it rubbed against yours.    
Your arm slithered behind his back, pulling him closer against your chest while you twirled his nipple beneath your thumb. The soft pants he let out on your lips made it impossible for you to stop caressing his warm skin and pressing your lips to his. As you held him against your chest, your hand behind his back slid down until it brushed against the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in a breath as he clutched your face and kissed you, and you slipped your tongue back inside his mouth, your hand slipping beneath his jeans to ghost the rough pads of your fingers across the skin of his ass.
Mammon moaned at the warmth of your hand and thrusted his hips up, rubbing the bulge in his pants against your erection. You let out a shocked grunt at the feeling of him pressing against you, and you pulled away from him to sit back on your knees. He laid in front of you, shirt barely covering his chest as his nipples stood proudly in the air for you to train your eyes on and bulge painfully hard in his pants. A deep breath left you as you held yourself back from stripping him right there and taking him at once.
He decided to test your patience though when he trailed a hand up his exposed chest to his lips, dragging his bottom lip down while his other hand cupped your boner. He pushed himself back on you and ground against your boner, and you screwed your eyes shut, lips pursing to hide the groans that threatened to spill. Mammon didn’t like that, and he slowly circled his hips.
“Fuck, Mammon…” you breathed out, the lust in your voice dropping it an octave as his name rolled off your tongue to dance in his ears, and his teeth caught his finger as a light breath pushed from his lips at the way you said his name.
“Hurry up. I… I can’t take it no more, Y/N,” he said, hips still circling as the finger in his mouth trailed down to run over his boner, and you placed your hands on his hips to stop his movement. He opened his mouth to complain, but when you pulled him into a sitting position to slip off his shirt and throw it to the ground where it crumpled into a pile of cloth with his jacket, he zipped his lips and flopped back onto the bed. 
Your hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans after you unzipped it, and you tugged them free from his legs. He shuddered as the material of his jeans brushed against his sensitive skin. Your mouth ran dry as Mammon laid in front of you in nothing but his boxers, a thin sheen of sweat creating a shine against his warm tan skin. He propped himself up on his elbows and ran his eyes up and down your body. He pressed a foot against your boner, and you let out a string of breathy curses as the aching in your cock spread throughout your groin. You needed to be inside him, to feel his warmth squeezing you as he moaned in pleasure.
“Turn around,” you said as you grabbed his ankle to stop his foot.
“Wha- No. I wanna look at ya,” he said back, and you sighed, reaching into your bedside nightstand to grab out a bottle of lube you kept in there for reasons.
“I have to prep you first. It will be easier for you if you’re on all fours.” Before he could argue, you flipped him over until his ass stuck in the air.
Your tongue swiped across your bottom lip as you slid his boxers down his thighs. His body twitched when you grabbed his ass, and he groaned into your pillow as you kneaded the flesh of his ass in your palms. Your thumbs spread his ass apart until you saw his hole in front of you. It clenched around nothing, and you ghosted the pad of your thumb across it, loving the way Mammon shuddered beneath your touch.
“Hurry,” Mammon begged while you squirted lube onto your fingers.
“Patience, baby,” you said, the pet name slipping from your lips before you could stop it. 
Mammon’s face burned at the name, and he hid his face in your pillow. You smiled to yourself at the redness of his ears and neck that betrayed his embarrassment as you spread his ass with your lube-free hand. You swirled a lubed middle finger around his hole, and he sucked in a breath as the cold lube touched his skin. His entrance clenched, waiting for your finger to enter, and while you wanted to tease him for a while, the aching in your lower half told you to hurry it up.
“Are you sure you want this?” you asked him to make sure, finger still swirling around the skin surrounding his opening, and he peered at you over his shoulder with a groan.
“Why are ya asking it now? Just shove your fingers in. I can’t take it no more!” he told you with a grumble.
“I just want to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself. Yes or no, Mammon. Do you want to continue?” you said as the tip of your finger scraped over his hole.
“Yes! Just hurry it up before I die over here!” he replied as he pushed his ass back in hopes of getting your finger inside of him.
 “Oh, we wouldn’t want you to die now, would we?” you drawled, and as Mammon opened his mouth to retort, you pushed your middle finger inside him.
He threw his head back as your finger pushed inside him, his walls tightening hungrily around it as his jaw clenched. You rested your forehead against his back as the warmth of him spread through your fingers. You could already imagine how he’d feel around your dick.
“Fuck, you’re so soft inside.” Your breath fanned across the bare skin of his back, and he shivered. When he didn’t respond, you jammed your fingers into his hole and watched him throw his head back and bite his bottom lip. The ease with which your fingers slid into him brought an image to your mind of Mammon fingering himself in preparation before coming over to you, and you licked your lips. “Did you prep yourself? You’re pretty loose already. Were you already anticipating this happening? 
“I... ain’t tellin’ ya!” he ground out through clenched teeth as you bent your fingers around inside of him. You smirked and ran your free hand along his thigh.
Soft pants left Mammon as you pulled your finger in and out of him, and you bit your lip as he clenched around you each time your finger moved. You added a second finger, and he let out a needy moan as your fingers rubbed against his walls. You spread your fingers inside him, scissoring him open as you thrusted your digits inside him. 
“Ah! Hah…” Mammon panted out as you sped up your pace. You angled your fingers downwards, and a high-pitched, drawn out moan left him as his body tensed underneath you.
“Found your sweet spot,” you said as you continued to shove your fingers inside him, adding a third one as you aimed for his prostate.
“Shit… Right-right there! Oh my-” He shoved his face into your pillow to muffle his moans, and you growled in annoyance.
While you fingered him, your free hand reached up to grab the back of his head, his white hair tickling your hand as you gripped the strands between your fingers, and you tugged his head back. He let out a shaky mewl as pain spread through his scalp and sent delicious tingles throughout his body. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face to his neck, where it hung from his Adam’s apple. His eyes screwed shut as heavy pants mixed with moans and spilled from his lips without stopping. 
Mammon pushed himself back against your fingers with each thrust, and you leaned forward to tilt his head to the side and capture his lips with yours. The inside of your mouth vibrated as he moaned into it, body tensing and hole clenching around you. You released his hair and reached a hand around to grab his dick in your hand. He let out a shocked choke as you ran your thumb over his tip, the nail of your thumb running over his slit and making his body jerk. Precum from his slit spread over his length and slicked it for you, and you flicked your wrist while you moved your fingers in and out of him. His body rocked back and forth, filthy noises leaving him every second as pleasure built up in his body. 
You squeezed his cock in your hand, and with a final thrust of your fingers, a slow, drawn out whimper spilled from him into your mouth as his body tensed and cum shot from his dick onto your bed. You flipped him onto his back, and he didn’t complain as his cum pressed into his back while he let out soft pants and tried to calm down from his orgasm. He watched as you slipped your shirt off, exposing your toned torso to his hungry eyes. 
The bed dipped for a second as you pushed yourself off it and walked to your nightstand to pull out a condom packet. As you stood there to grab a few—just in case you needed them—Mammon turned onto his side and grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging downwards. You chuckled as his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth while he focused all his attention on trying to strip you of your pants. With the condom packets in your hand, you complied with Mammon’s wishes and pulled your sweatpants down along with your boxer, and he sucked in a breath as your erection sprung out.
“You literally had this in your mouth several minutes ago,” you said.
“Well I didn’t get a good look at it then. Is… is that even gonna fit?” he asked as his eyes widened when your dick twitched.
“We can make it fit,” you replied, and he flopped onto his back again. “Are you sure you still want this?” You walked back to the bed, and it creaked as you got back on top of it.
“Y-yeah. It’s gonna hurt, ain’t it?” he asked, and you pursed your lips as his voice trembled a little.
You rubbed his thigh, swirling circles against his skin to calm him down. “I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Just make sure you relax, okay?” 
He nodded, still a little hesitant, but the heat from your hand on his thigh eased his worries a bit. He spread his legs, and you slipped between them. You ripped open the condom packet and rolled it onto your cock. After pouring lube onto it, you poured some more on Mammon’s hole, and his body shuddered. You braced yourself on a hand as you held your dick with the other.
“I’m gonna put it in now,” you said as you looked into Mammon’s eyes, and he nodded while biting his lip, eyes trusting you fully. “Make sure you relax, babe.” After you spoke that pet name, you pressed your head against his entrance, not giving him any time to process the name that slipped past your lips. 
A sharp breath left him as his eyes squeezed shut, and his body tensed when his hole stretched to accompany the size of your tip. You peppered soft kisses against his chest, and he let out short gasps when your teeth nipped at his nipples. The veins on your neck bulged as you clenched your jaw, his tight hole sucking you in and squeezing your cock hard. As you pushed in deeper, Mammon’s back arched up from the bed as he pursed his lips and trapped a choked whine from leaving his mouth. His frantic hands grabbed your tensed jaw and yanked it up to stare at his face, and you let out a surprised noise as he crashed his lips into yours.
His hungry lips danced against yours, neither of you faltering as the pace quickened and turned sloppier, and you slipped his tongue in. His hands on your jaw fell down to grasp your shoulders, and he swallowed a soft hiss that left you as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, toes curling as your tongue swiped around inside his mouth and brushed against his in a sloppy, wet mess. While you distracted him with the kiss, you took the chance to pour more lube onto your dick before you slid yourself in more until you reached halfway.
Pain flared up in your shoulders as Mammon’s nails dug at your skin, but you ignored it when you remembered how much more pain he was in compared to you. Tears spilled from his screwed-shut eyes, and your heart hurt at the sight. You started pulling yourself out of him, ready to stop there and just finger him until he came, but as you slid out of him, he wrapped his legs around your waist and locked his ankles to trap you in.
“Don’t… Don’t pull out,” he ground out, and your eyebrows creased in concern.
“But you’re hurting, Mammon. I don’t want to hurt you,” you replied, and he shook his head.
“I’ll get used to it. I-I wanna feel ya inside me. Fully inside me. I’ll tell ya to stop if it becomes too much.”
 Though not fully convinced, you nodded, and he pulled you back down into another lust-filled kiss as you pushed yourself inside again. You let out a throaty groan as your pelvic bone hit against his ass, the full length of your cock nestling inside of him. Mammon mewled against you, your hot and pulsating cock a strange feeling inside of him that he loved already. You ran your hands along his sides, and you dipped your head down after pulling away from his lips to roll your tongue around his nipple. When his back arched as you nipped at his skin, your hand grabbed his free nipple and twisted it between the calloused pads of your fingertips. He cried out in pleasure, walls tensing around your cock, causing you to hiss against his skin.
“Didn’t expect you to be this sensitive,” you said as your tongue swiped over his nipple while you looked up at him, and his body twitched, soft pants escaping him.
“Shut… shut up!” An aching, drawn-out moan slipped from his lips when you pinched his nipple and nipped at the other one, and you grunted against his skin as he clenched around you. 
You wanted to move so badly, but you weren’t sure he had adjusted yet, and you weren’t about to make this experience horrible for him. The two of you stayed still for a few moments, Mammon’s hole trying to get used to the foreign object of your dick inside it while you practiced patience. Your neck veins popped as you willed yourself to not move. Heavy pants pushed past your lips as you screwed your eyes shut and felt a bead of sweat drip down your forehead before it hand from the tip of your nose. Mammon watched the bead of sweat hang on for dear life before it plummeted down onto his skin, and he pursed his lips. 
His entrance still burned where it took you in, but pleasure mixed with it and spread out from his hole until it coursed through his body, and he knew he needed you to move before this pleasure became unbearable. While you remained still above him, he pushed himself back against you and grunted as you slid in and out of him. The clenching of his walls and the groans leaving his mouth forced your eyes open until you looked down on him. His eyes looked down at where the two of you connected, mouth open as groans turned into soft moans, and his hands clutched the bed sheets as he pushed himself back and forth on you. 
“F-fuck… You’re-you’re gonna hurt yourself, Mammon. You haven’t adjusted yet,” you told him as you fought the will to slam into him as you watched his chest heaved up and down, perky nipples standing straight in the air and begging to be touched. 
“I don’t… give a… shit!” he ground out, and his body spasmed as your dick poked at a certain spot inside him. “Fuck!” he said as he shut his eyes and tightened around you until you felt ready to burst inside him. When you remained still, his eye flicked up to glare at you, and he locked his ankles behind your low back, pulling your hips towards him and pushing your dick deeper inside him. “Move.” 
The thin string of reason that held you together reached its final thread before it snapped, and you wasted no time in slipping your dick out of him before thrusting it back inside him, hitting his sweet spot. His back arched as he threw his head back on your pillow, exposing his neck to you. As your dick slid in and out of him, you bent your head down towards his neck to nip at the skin around his Adam’s apple, smirking against his skin when sharp breaths left him whenever your teeth caught his skin between them. 
You pulled back to admire the red blossoming against his skin around his Adam’s apple, and he covered his eyes with an arm as he noticed the proud look in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat, but he didn’t notice the feeling as pleasure replaced all the pain inside his body and built up deep inside him. Before he had come into your room, a deep itch inside him had taken his time as he tried anything he could to get it to stop, from the use of his fingers to any of the sex toys Asmodeus has given him, but only your dick seemed to reach the deep spot inside him that he desperately needed hit. His body heated up with each thrust into him until he burned beneath you and sent his warmth coursing through your body. 
Your hands grabbed his waist, and you pulled him back against your cock with each thrust, and his eyes widened as you slammed into his prostate. He reached his hands out to grab at his aching cock that begged for attention, but before his fingers could wrap around his shaft, you detached a hand from his side to grab his wrists and pull his hands away from his cock. He whined as you thrusted into him, precum leaking from his slit and spilling down the side of his desperate cock as he tried to yank his wrists free.
“Uh uh uh. I didn’t say you could touch yourself,” you told him, and Mammon glared at you.
“Ya dick,” he said, and you smirked.
“Well, that’s what’s inside you right now anyways.” 
He flushed and groaned as his hole stretched around your cock. His silence after your remark made you smirk at how cute he was, but at the same time, he looked so sexy as he sucked your cock up with his hungry hole.
“Are you sure you aren’t the real avatar of lust?” you asked, your eyes raking over Mammon’s appearance. Tears pricked the corners of his blue and yellow eyes, a shine coating them and making them shimmer, as saliva spilled from his open mouth that let out whines while he focused his attention on your cock sliding in and out of him. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat coated his entire body and enhanced his lean muscles that contracted with each thrust of your cock. With your hand restricting his wrists, the redness of his face added to the fucked out look on his face, and your cock swelled inside him.
“Fuck, I’m close!” he cursed, fingers curling up as he tensed beneath you.
At those words, you switched your positions until your back rested against the bed sheets and Mammon sat on top of you. Your teeth caught your bottom lip as you looked up at him, his eyes hazy as his mouth hung open, saliva dripping from the corners as his dick twitched against his stomach. He let out a deep moan and leaned forward on top of you, resting his hands on your tense stomach as he adjusted to the new position. Your dick hit deeper inside him and reached spots he didn’t even know were possible, but he loved the feeling, especially when your cock pulsed inside him and begged for him to move. 
You rested your hands on his hips to help guide him as he started off slowly, lifting his hips up before he sank back down on your shaft. He threw his head back, mouth wide open as a silent moan wracked his body, your tip pushing deep against his walls. 
“It’s… so deep!” he gasped out as he lifted himself up one more time before plunging back down. His body trembled with pleasure, and you clenched your jaw as he tightened around you. 
He sped his pace up as he got used to your cock hitting deeper inside, and your hands on his hips moved down to grip his ass and spread it apart. His hole sucked you in, wet sounds echoing throughout the room as he moved his ass up and down your shaft. He laid down on top of you, his chest pressing against yours, and he pressed his lips to yours as you snapped your hips up to match each drop of his hips. You swallowed his moans, your tongue swirling inside his mouth. His pace became more frantic, and you knew he was close. His body tensed, cock swelling.
“I-I can’t anymore…” he panted out, pace slowing down as fatigue took over, and you flipped your positions one more time so that he laid underneath you. 
Without warning, you slammed yourself inside him, angling yourself so that your tip hit him in his prostate each thrust. His toes curled with pleasure as his body tensed underneath you, cock twitching and ready to burst. The build up of pleasure he had been experiencing threatened to spill out with each snap of your hips, and he bit his lips to hold back the long string of moans that wanted to escape.
“Don’t bite your lips. I want to hear you moan as you cum,” you said, and he obeyed at once, his teeth releasing his lips to let out staccato moans that were music to your ears. 
“I’m-I’m comin'!” he said as he pushed his head back against the pillow, hands gripping the bed sheets.
“Me too,” you grunted out as your cock twitched inside him, and when he squeezed your cock, you came undone inside him with a deep grunt.
As your cum filled up the condom inside him, Mammon let out a loud, drawn-out moan before his body tensed and shook with pleasure. His back arched off of the bed, stars dotting his vision as a wave of pleasure he had never experienced before washed over him. His toes curled, hand clutching the bed sheets and eyes screwing shut as he let out a debauched cry. Your mouth hung open as you watched his body twitched underneath you, hole clenching sporadically around your sensitive cock.
“Was that a dry orgasm?” you asked as Mammon’s body stopped spasming, no cum dripping down the side of his cock or against his skin.
His dazed eyes and twitching cock told you all you needed, and you gripped his dick in one hand. Your hand jerked up and down it, feeling his veins pressing against your hand with each motion. He twitched underneath you as overstimulation wracked his body, and he whined.
“N-no more. I can’t take anymore,” he said.
“Just a little more, baby. You need to let it out,” you told him, and he mewled when the nail of your thumb hit his slit. 
When his cock swelled in your hand, you tightened your grip on his cock and slid your hand up and down faster until his body jerked and a string of hot cum shot out of his tip. His cum splattered against his chest, and his hole squeezed you, and you groaned as you realized your oversensitive dick still settled deep inside him.
You rolled off Mammon as you pulled out of him and plopped onto the bed beside him. Heavy pants left him as he tried to return his breathing to normal while he calmed down from his high. Once his breathing returned to normal, you rolled onto your side and propped your head up on your hand to look at him. He flickered his eyes up towards you, and you licked your lips, your dick still pounding. 
“Let’s go for another round,” you said and gave him puppy eyes that he looked away from to not get suckered in. 
“But what about the other movies we didn’t- Ahhh!” Mammon didn’t get to finish his words as you pounced on him and peppered his body with kisses. As his soft gasps met your ears with each butterfly kiss, you realized something.
The rest of the movies would have to wait until another day.
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anon-rebel-writes · 3 years
Text
Something Simple
Hi! Hey! How’s it going? Good? That’s so good!
So I’ve been gone...Ha ha. I feel like I should have an excuse ready, and an apology, and a promise to do better in the future. But honestly, I don’t have...any of those.
Well I do have an apology, I’m sorry that I’ve been gone and kinda just left the internet. I don’t really look at social media as much as I used to (which honestly is super good for mental health, but kinda sucky if you do stuff on social media :P)
I haven’t had a ton of ideas lately, and when I do, I get frustrated with myself because it’s not the most amazing piece that I’ve ever worked on. I had a serious talk with my girlfriend (she’s seriously the majority of my inspiration for most of my works) and she said something that gave me an epiphany.
Sometimes you just have to make some sucky tea until you make the best tea of your life :) (I swear that makes more sense if you read the story lol)
I like domestic fluff. I like short and simple stories. So that’s what this is! I don’t wanna waste my time waiting fro inspiration to strike when I can make something to get me through writer’s block! So if you don’t mind my wacky schedule, I hope you enjoy this simple piece :)
It begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link
This should be easy.
It used to be easy for him when he was younger. When he was five, Luka would listen to the waves on the boat and hear a unique tune out of it. At eleven, his mom told him about an old tale she heard and he wrote lyrics based on it. Sixteen, Juleka would idly pluck her bass and he’d come up with three different songs just from the sound. Music was natural to him.
Now it was hard. Nothing inspired him. He was supposed to be a musical guy. How could this tear him down so easily! Maybe his life was too good now. No problems to sing about, no unrequited love songs, no daddy issues. His life was great! What happened to him?
After his dad came back into his life, he appreciated their little relationship. They would jam out and have fun, although it was still awkward to call him ‘dad’, it still seemed fine. He found out a lot of weird stuff with magic and identities when he was younger, but it led to Marinette confessing a huge secret to him. Misunderstandings got cleared up and they ended up reigniting their romantic relationship. After proposing to her last year, they got an apartment that was perfect for them.
Everything was perfect, really. Maybe that was the problem, everything was perfect. Juleka did tease him lately about “losing his edge”. Was his edge gone? His blue dyed hair was barely visible nowadays, any tattoos he got during university were usually covered up by his vast collection of MDC sweaters, even his ear piercings were replaced with whatever colored ones matched his outfit that day!
Maybe he was getting old. He was getting engaged to one of the sweetest people in the world, maybe her sugar-like sweetness rubbed off on him.
Was his music destined to be lost to the winds forever? Did all the talent leave his blood the moment he started settling into a domestic life? Juleka seemed to keep her musical charm, she still did small gigs with Rose in coffee shops every now and then. Ivan even toured around with his new band after university.
All Luka did now was make instruments. Was that even close to musical? His dad supported his career decision, despite intense protests. His in-laws helped him open a little shop. Everything was so easy and simple.
Even now, he waited for Marinette to come home so they could finish watching 'Halloween Wars'. He spends his nights watching reality television. Who has he become?!
It clearly led him here, on his couch, guitar in hand, with no progress being made. He wanted to make something fantastic. Something that Marinette would hear and be reminded of the songs he used to write for her. Luka would sing to her and he would tell himself how he “still has it”.
But nothing came out. No tune, no music, no notes, no lyrics, nothing. Luka sighed and put his guitar on the side of the couch and decided to take his mind off of music, at least for now. A little break should be good! Looking across the living room, he realized the utter mess he made.
Music sheets were scattered across the coffee table, pencils somehow found their way to the floor. Maybe he should clean up, just to have a clean environment to work in.
Or maybe he should make himself some tea. Tea always gets creative juices flowing! Not cleaning up, nope. That’s what people do when they’re avoiding stuff and Luka Couffaine does not avoid stuff! Especially not cleaning messes that look like a natural disaster hit his living room. Nope, not avoiding.
So that’s where Marinette found the love of her life two hours later after work. In the kitchen, making tea, warzone in the living room and his heart clearly broken. Opening the apartment door and seeing the utter chaos made her remember just who she was about to marry, but going into the kitchen and seeing the look of despair on his face when he realized they had no honey for his tea was just plain sad.
She took off her shoes and coat and walked over to where he stood, hunched over the counter, staring deeply into his bitter tea. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she let her head rest between his shoulder blades. “Lu? You okay?”
Instead of answering, Luka gently stirred the tea with a spoon and shook his head. “...we forgot to buy honey.”
“And…that’s the only reason you seem upset?”
One quick glance over to the living room definitely made her question if honey was truly the culprit. Then again this wouldn’t be the first time a Couffaine had caused trouble for something small. She’d never forget the shape of the boat after the Captain had lost her favorite headband.
“I… can’t make music anymore.”
Marinette slowly let go of his midsection and turned him to face her. She squinted at his face, trying to see if this was an elaborate joke. “Uh- No offense, but that doesn’t seem possible. I mean… music is second nature to you.”
“You don’t get it. I lost my edge! I’m not cool anymore. I don’t have daddy issues, or love issues, or school issues, or work issues, or-”
“Yeah yeah, you were an angsty boy. But music didn’t come from you because you were edgy. Music is just a part of who you are. Whether you have issues or not. And believe me, the songs you used to write for me were anything but edgy.”
Luka sighed and grabbed his cup of bitter tea. He looked in it and gave it to Marinette. “This tea sucks. It’s like my music. It doesn’t have that ‘umph’ that it needs to be good.” She looked into the cup and decided to take a sip. She let the flavor sit on her tongue for a bit and stared back into the cup, thinking to herself for a second.
“The tea isn’t great, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just… simple. Nothing too extraordinary, nothing too disgusting. It just tastes like tea. And maybe you just need to make simple tea every once in a while before you can go back to making your delicious Luka juice.”
He chuckled at her analogy and took the tea cup back to give it one last sip. Honestly Marinette was right, although she always tended to be right about these things, the tea wasn’t awful. It wasn’t his favorite, but not every song is his favorite either.
She gave him a kiss on his cheek before heading over to their bedroom.
Luka decided to move back over to the living room to clean the area up a little bit. He put away the massive amount of paper and took most of the pencils from the area, leaving only one sheet of music, his guitar, and a single pencil.
He let out a deep sigh and sat back down on the couch, grabbing his guitar. He sat back and stared down at the music sheet on the table. “Something simple, huh?”
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hongnanglen-arina · 3 years
Text
Sweet study break | Hong Joshua
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Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Joshua x fem reader
Warnings: none
Words: 1.3k
A/N: Hello there! This is my part for this years valentine’s gram event from @caratwritersclub​ ! I got teamed up with the cutie Sakura ( @cupidhaos​ ) so here is my little drabble for you dear. I hope you’ll like it ♡ Happy Valentine's day! 💋
⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅
You were stressed out. All the studying got on your nerves and if that wasn’t enough already, your weekend was filled with chores and additional studying, leaving you no time for your much needed self care and time for your friends and hobbys. It just sucked.
Looking up from your textbook, you suddenly felt the urge to eat sweets. To relax your nerves.
So you made your way out of your room to look for it. Anything would do at this rate but there was nothing at all. Sighting heavily, the realization hit you that the only option was to buy something at the convenient store down the road. 
A short glance at the open textbook on your table made you feel that you should take a short time off and get some fresh air. Not only the sweets but also the little walk could give you more energy to continue later.
That’s when you got ready and quickly threw on an oversized hoodie, grabbing your purse and phone to leave the apartment to almost hit a familiar boy with the front door as you were about to head out.
“W-wha… wow…. hi?”
He stepped back, sharing your surprise to see the other like this.
“Oh sorry!! Did I hit you, Shua?”
At your question Joshua shook his head no and you smiled in relieve. “No no, don’t worry, y/n. Were you heading out? Need company?”
You thought for a moment but then agreed to his offer. “I craved sweets so I took a break from studying to get some. Sorry that I can’t hang out with you for much longer after that but there’s still a lot to do.” He had followed you out of the apartment complex, walking side by side as he looked at you.
“Don’t worry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and taking care of yourself in between all the studying. I was worried.”
A pink blush appeared on your cheeks when you heard his words. He was worried?
Fighting back a smile, you made an ‘oh’ sound not to sounds too crazy. Sheepishly waiting for him to turn his gaze off of you, you took the chance to admire his side profile when he did. He was tall and handsome and you couldn’t believe how you got so lucky to have him as a friend. One that sincerely cared for you.
When you arrived at the convenient store, you greeted the old lady at the cashier. She was so lovely and always asked about your day whenever there weren’t many customers.
“Oh y/n! It’s so nice to see you and your friend! You got here just right. This is for you.” She pulled two packages of strawberry milk out of the pile of delivery boxes and handed them to you two. “I know you love it, enjoy!”
Trying to say no was impossible with her. She always insisted giving you small treats here and there. One time she told you, you reminded her of her own daughter.
“Is this your boyfriend?”
You already inserted the straw and were sipping at your milk when she asked about Joshua, causing you to choke slightly, blushing furiously. “N-no no! He’s a friend who wanted to cheer me up between all the studying!”
Not sure why you had to explain yourself because the way she was watching you two, you could see that she wasn’t fully believing you. “W-we just met outside and he wanted to accompany, right Shua?” He nodded quickly and rubbed the back of his neck a little embarrassed at the situation.  
The old lady nodded with a grin. “Well, your favorite chocolate is cheaper this week so don’t forget to take some with you.”
You missed out on the wink she gave the boy next to you with a nod in the direction of the said sweets. He beamed her a ‘thanks’ and looked around, not to look too obvious.
In the meantime, you were roaming through the aisles, lazily picking up bags of chips and crackers before joining your friend in front of the chocolate section, the strawberry milk almost empty.
He sneakily got your favorite chocolate and hid it between two other flavors before you could see it. “You have everything, y/n?” At his words, you nodded, showing him the snacks in your hands.”
“Alright, I’ll get them for you. You are the stressed one here and I hope it will ease your tension at least a little. Just show me your beautiful smile, that’s enough for me.” The moment he noticed what he just said, he bit his lip, nervousness rising up while you were looking at him with big eyes, your cheeks burning.
The clapping of the old lady pulling the both of you out of your thoughts. “Ahh… and here I am, thinking those romantic moments only exist in dramas! But it happened right in front of me! You two are so cute together!”
You never thought your face could burn like it did now, hitting Joshua’s arm and gesturing him to pay so you could get away from this embarrassing situation and he got the hint immediately.
After waving your goodbye’s, you were back outside, Joshua carrying your snacks in a little bag for you. “She’s…. nice.”
“Yeah..” you replied in a weak voice. The cold air should cool down your face as soon as possible or else you couldn’t look at your friend. You walked back slowly, both deep in thoughts when you heard the boy beside you clear his throat.
“Uhm… actually I have something for you.”
You blinked and looked down to the bag in his hand. “You have the snacks you mean?”
He chuckled and shook his head, starting to open his white cross bag and pulling out a small velvety sachet. Your friend gave it to you and once you opened it, you saw what was inside. A light green bead bracelet. The beads were all in different shades of green. You loved it but you were speechless, feeling so thankful for the snacks he paid for and now his selfmade present. In the middle were letters which formed the word ‘fighting’. 
Looking for words, Joshua became more shy after handing you his gift, his confidence gone completely when you remained quite.
“I… was just thinking about you. I wanted to give you some strength and support. Sorry, if it's out of the blue.. it’s nothing fancy or so but-”
“I love it!” You cut him off. “I really do, Shua! Thank you so much!”
You were already back in front of your apartment door as your fingers carefully rub over the beads. Without asking, he offered you to help you put it on and you watched him do so while pulling your hoodie sleeves up to reveal your wrist. He was careful not to secure it too tightly and it was difficult for him because he felt too nervous all of a sudden, the bracelet slippery between his fingers.
Pressing your lips to a thin line, you waited until he was done, suppressing your shy smile and trying hard to ignore your fast heartbeat. You admired the thoughtful present on your arm when you lift your gaze, meeting his eyes and you were sure, all air left your lungs.
Without a second thought, the handsome boy in front of you brushed a strand of hair behind you ear. “If you need another break, just tell me and I’ll be there. Any time.” He quickly turned around and walked away so you couldn’t see how pink his cheeks were, a wide smile on his lips.
As if he knew you were about to say something, he lifted his right hand and waved a good-bye before starting to run at turn at the next corner until he wasn't in sight anymore.
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ellewritesathing · 3 years
Text
Infernal    VIII
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 3.4k+
Masterlist Prev. | Part 8
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Ever since you were eleven years old, you’d been going to the Paramount once a week with Theo to share a large popcorn with m&ms poured over the top, two large sodas, and the biggest bag of Sour Patch Kids that money from dog walking, tutoring, and scrounging between the couch cushions could buy. The dark was a blanket of safety and anonymity for an hour or two, and you loved it more than anything. It was two hours of you, Theo, and whatever rerun was showing that weekend. One of only two movie theatres in Greendale, The Paramount stood as a testament to friendship and the enduring power of bad cinema. 
Sharing the Paramount and all its memories with Caliban was nerve-wracking. 
If he noticed your non-stop fidgeting, he didn’t say anything. He was perfectly composed as he watched stressed out parents corral their screaming children - shoulders relaxed, mouth upturned, and hand easily laced through yours. 
“You know, I never cared much for children,” he said. He suppressed a laugh when one of the kids threw pieces of popcorn at their dad. “But I’m starting to think they may not be such loathsome little creatures after all. Given a little direction, they could surpass any of Hell’s torturers.” 
You would have laughed at his joke if you’d been listening, but you were too busy watching the specials board light up his face red, orange, and yellow that caught on the edges of his hair. “Is this your first date?” you asked. 
Caliban raised an eyebrow as he turned to you and you stammered out an explanation. Impulse control had never been one of your strong suits, and it had been on the decline lately. Putting you out of your misery with a sly smile, he said, “Yes.” 
“Wait-” you tugged on his hand slightly as the two of you moved forward in the line “-does that mean I’m your first kiss?” 
Caliban laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “My first kiss was with a succubus.” 
You weren’t sure what kind of answer you were expecting, but that particular one caught you off guard. “Oh. That’s pretty cool. Do you guys keep in touch?” 
“Are you in touch with your first kiss?” Caliban asked, throwing another smile at you as the two of you walked over the counter. He let you order and pay in peace, but he asked again when you were flavoring the popcorn, clearly amused by your awkwardness. 
You were in the middle of explaining that your first kiss had been on a dare at one of the worst, least supervised birthday parties you’d ever been to when someone bumped into and spilled your popcorn all over the floor. They kept walking. 
They only cleared a few feet before the Darkness lashed out and you yelled at them. “Hey! Are you going to apologize?” 
You recognized them once they turned around. He was one of the kids from the lacrosse team who’d bullied Theo back in freshman year. With possibly the fakest smile you’d seen, Charlie said, “Chill. It was an accident.” 
“Apologize.” 
“Are you kidding me?” 
“Say you’re sorry.”
His body relaxed and his eyes took on a familiar glassy, hollow quality as he mumbled an apology. You smiled.
“Good.” You took a step forward to close the distance between you. “Now give me your wallet.” He did so without a word, the charm overwhelming any reservations he may have had. He faltered slightly when you took out most of the cash, but you told him to be quiet. With a smile, you handed his wallet back to him. “Enjoy your movie.” 
Charlie blinked twice, slowly, but then he nodded. “You too,” he said uncertainly. He stumbled down the hall and looked at you again as he rounded a corner, completely dumbstruck. 
You waved at him, turning back to Caliban with a smile. “Ready to watch the movie?”
The easiness from earlier was gone; Caliban’s jaw was tense and his eyes were narrowed. He didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall. “What was that?” 
You shrugged. “I wanted him to apologize.”
“Are you sure that’s all you wanted?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall. His movements were easy, but his words were strained.
“Yes,” you lied, unclenching your fists. When you stole a glance at your palms, they were coated in a thin layer of darkness, smudged around the area where you’d dug your nails in to keep from knocking the false smile off Charlie’s face.
---
“Wait, so you’re like … Hannah Montana if she was a teenage witch and he’s like- what is he? Your Jesse?” 
Out of all the reactions you’d imagined after telling your friends that the mother you’d spent your whole life looking for turned out to be a literal demon, a Hannah Montana comparison hadn’t even made the top ten. 
“Harvey, don’t you think you’re being a little-” 
To be fair, they’d handled the news about Lilith better than expected. Harvey was confused, Theo was happy you found your mom even if she’d tried to kill them all before, Sabrina helped smooth things over, and Roz admitted to having her suspicions for a while. 
“What? I’m just trying to understand why the guy that tried to rule Hell and enslave us all is sitting on my couch.” 
It was only when things came to Caliban that their understanding faltered. Even Sabrina, trying her best, didn't quite understand.
“I’m sitting on your couch because I was invited, Huckleberry Finn.”
After defeating the Darkness and unbinding your powers, you’d gone to Sabrina’s with a tub of ice cream and explained everything. A weight that had been slowly crushing you was lifted off your chest that night, but it came back in full force with every angry word from Harvey. It wasn’t like you’d expected him to understand, but you’d hoped he would at least try. 
“Okay!” Standing up, you let out a weighty breath and held out your hands to stop them from speaking. “Will you two stop antagonizing one another for five minutes?” 
Reluctantly, Caliban nodded as Harvey collapsed back in his chair and grumbled, “Fine, but I still don’t like him.” 
“You don’t have to like him. You just have to respect that I like him,” you said. Harvey didn’t seem convinced, so you sighed and tried to come up with a new strategy. Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to Harvey. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like a piece of you is missing?” To Roz, “Like there’s something wrong with you because you just don’t fit in with everyone else?” To Theo, “And then you figure out what it is and you can’t tell anyone because you don’t think they’d care about you anymore if they found out?” You wiped your face haphazardly and stared at the Smashing Pumpkins poster peeling off the back wall. “It fucking sucks.” 
“And I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harvey said, standing up and blocking your view of the poster. “I am. But you can’t expect me to be okay after finding out that you spent the last three months lying to everyone and dating that asshole.” 
“I didn’t want to lie to you!” You felt the Darkness rising in your throat and did your best to push it down. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked back at Harvey and tried not to cry. “Is it so hard to believe that I was scared to tell you, or did you forget when you cut Sabrina out of your life when she told you?” 
Harvey frowned. His hand twitched at his side as he glanced at Sabrina. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Yeah, I know, because she was the most important person in your life and I’m just the kid that lives next door.” Your voice broke and Harvey stepped forward to give you a hug. The Darkness lurched at the movement and you stepped back to keep it from hurting him. Taking another step back, you started gathering your stuff. “I can’t do this right now.” 
“Hey, just hold on a second, okay?” Harvey tried to grab your wrist to stop you, and you couldn’t stop the Darkness from lashing out this time. 
“Don’t touch me.”
Harvey frowned, his hand outstretched and frozen, and a familiar, glassy film cloud covered his eyes. The air was sucked out of the room as Harvey blinked and tried to recover. His hand still hung in the air. Your heart broke.
“I need to go,” you rushed out, scrambling for the door. You didn’t care about the stuff you dropped or the fact that Caliban was sitting on the couch the last you saw - all you cared about was getting out before you did anything worse. Still, you froze in the doorway. Over your shoulder, you mustered up all your courage and said, “I’m sorry.”
You weren’t sure if any of your friends heard you over their concern for Harvey or if they just didn’t want to respond, but at least Caliban caught up to you in the silence. He didn’t reach out for you for the rest of the night, all he did was stare at you with stormy, unfathomable eyes.
---
Hilda Spellman was the closest thing you’d ever had to a mother; she was warm and inviting, and always made your favorite cupcakes if you were having a bad day. She made sure that your dad always had something on the table for dinner. She took you shopping every year before school started. She let you stay in their house for almost a month when you were convinced that your bedroom was haunted. Hilda Spellman deserved nothing but happiness. 
So why couldn’t you suck it up for one day and give her the perfect wedding that she deserved? 
Because, despite your best efforts, you were still upset at how things had unfolded with your friends. While Theo and Roz forgave you for lying and accepted you for being a witch, they weren’t sure they could give Caliban a chance after he lashed out at Harvey. Talking to Harvey might have solved that problem, but he was pretty much set on avoiding you. You didn't blame him after what you did to him, even if he didn't know what exactly it was you did to him.
All this drama might not have been an issue otherwise, but they were the only people you knew at this wedding. So far, the only other people to show up were witches that were preoccupied with either the Uninvited or the incubus on the loose. 
When you noticed Nick had disappeared from door duty, you finished your drink and set the glass down. Sliding in next to Sabrina, you bumped her arm with your elbow and held your hand out for some of the programs. “Need a hand?” 
“Not really, but I’ll take the company,” she said with a smile. She handed you a stack of creamy pink programs and laughed wistfully. “Nick was supposed to help me with this but he’d rather get busy with Prudence in the coat closet.” 
You tried not to laugh as you handed a program to a very solemn-looking witch. “Yeah, well, at least he’s talking to you,” you said, watching the witch disappear into the steadily growing crowd. 
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Harvey will come around,” she said, pausing to smile as she handed out another program. “He’s just scared of losing you in all this.”
“You know, Caliban actually said something similar after we left the other night.” This time, you didn’t bother hiding your laughter. Sabrina didn’t bat an eye at taking on an eldritch terror, but the possibility of Caliban having a valid point seemed to shake her to her core. “He said that I shouldn’t be so hard on Harvey because all he wants is to keep me safe, but this is the one thing that he can’t protect me from. The magic and … getting my heart broken.” 
Sabrina tried to reign in her surprise, but she still seemed stunned as she handed out another program. “That … actually makes sense.” 
“Weird, right?” You stole a look at the line forming outside the church and your heart ached when you saw your friends lugging their band equipment through the parking lot. It was going to be a long night. 
Sabrina followed your gaze and sighed. “So ... where is Caliban? You RSVPed that you were bringing a plus-one but I don’t see him anywhere.” 
You tore your eyes away from the band to hand out another program. Shaking your head, you said, “I was going to bring him, but then I figured that this was Hilda’s special day and she didn't need a fistfight between her lead singer and a plus one.” 
“Well, I think you should bring him,” Sabrina said. “What? Just because I’m going to be sad and alone the whole night doesn’t mean you have to.” 
So, after a quick check with Hilda, you invited Caliban. He agreed to come, if you promised to talk to him about your lesser angels creeping in. 
You could feel Harvey staring at the back of your head throughout the whole ceremony, but Theo sat next to you and Robin said he’d save you guys a seat at the reception. Things were starting to look up, even if they were a little weird. 
As awkward as the ceremony had been, the reception was great. Caliban was as charming as ever, winning over Theo and Robin and making witches swoon left and right. Despite all your time together, you’d never seen him this comfortable around others. A room without demons or humans, it seemed, was where you found common ground. 
Until Sabrina’s toast. 
She lost credibility before she even opened her mouth by stumbling up the stage steps. Opening with a joke, she had a solid two and a half seconds before she started drawing attention to every couple in the nearby vicinity - starting with Harvey and Roz, glossing over Theo and Robin to mention you and Caliban, and eventually landing on Nick and Prudence. Sabrina tried to save the toast by circling back to Hilda, but it was too late. She crashed into the drums, said she’d be single for a century and a half, and was dragged off-stage by Zelda while the Fright Club scrambled to perform their set.
Amidst the chaos, Caliban ducked his head closer to yours and brought his drink to his lips. “You know,” he said, pausing to take a sip, “If you’d told me how much fun these gatherings were, I would have come with you a long time ago.”
Rolling your eyes, you took his drink and shifted in your seat so you could lean against him. “Does that mean I can sign you up for the book club?” 
“That depends. What are we reading?” Caliban asked. He looked away from the stage to meet your eyes. 
“The Feminine Mystique.” 
“Oh, okay.” 
Laughing, you tilted your head up to kiss his jaw. Settling back into your seat and intertwining your hands, you said, “Well, if it counts for anything, I’m glad you’re here now.”
If you thought the worst part of the night was Sabrina’s toast, you were totally and completely unprepared for the incubus attack. It jumped from Theo to Harvey to Melvin before landing in the Uninvited. Their eyes were wild for a moment, but then the Uninvited shuddered as their eyes returned to a deep, empty brown. They’d eaten the incubus, and moments later they bit into Dorian’s heart like an apple. 
There was something unbearably sad about the Uninvited, and the Darkness within you ached to fix them. It didn’t matter that they toasted to the end of all things, all that mattered was that they were alone. You started reaching out for them when Caliban took his hand in yours and pulled you closer to him. 
“I am the Herald of the Void. I feast on the hearts of those that reject me. And someone here turned me away, therefore, death to you all.” The Uninvited smiled and downed whatever had been in their glass. 
Tipping your glass towards the Uninvited, you drank to their toast as Hilda apologized for turning them away. She tried to invite them, but the Uninvited said it was too late. They’d already been turned away. 
Nick stepped forward as the one that had turned the Uninvited away to sacrifice himself, but Sabrina tugged him back by the edge of his sleeve. Prudence was one step behind, holding Nick close to her chest as Sabrina offered the Uninvited a heart of sorts. She explained that she’s been wandering a cosmos of her own lately, feeling hopelessly alone, and just wanting to belong somewhere with someone. If they got married, the Uninvited would have her heart and a place to belong, always. Forevermore, they’d be the Invited. 
The Darkness grew unruly as the Uninvited considered her proposal, and for a moment you thought they’d do as the Darkness wanted and rip Sabrina’s heart from her ribcage. Instead, all they did was nod.
---
Cold bit at your fingertips as you sat, knees pulled up to your chest, on the wall outside the desecrated church, but the stolen Mother’s Ruin kept your stomach warm. The sun had disappeared somewhere between the fake wedding and trapping the Uninvited in Sabrina’s old dollhouse, October chill coming in with the night sky, but you welcomed the change. Indifferent sunshine to apathetic stars. 
Pouring out a bit of gin on the dead flowers below, you said a silent prayer for the Uninvited. Not for forgiveness, but maybe understanding. Hoping it would make the Darkness subside.
The crunching of dried grass underfoot interrupted your thoughts. 
“This seat taken?”
You shrugged but moved over all the same to make space for Harvey. He threw a lanky leg over the side of the wall as he let out a deep breath. When he was settled, you offered him some of the Mother’s Ruin but he shook his head. 
“No, uh, I’m good. Thanks though.” Harvey drummed uncertainly on the sides of the wall, watching carefully as you drank his rejected share of the gin. “So I was thinking about something the Uninvited said back there - about wandering around all alone until the terrors welcomed them to their club?” 
Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “Are you about to call my boyfriend a terror?”
Harvey laughed, a deep, unsure sound, and looked down at the wall again. “Well, he is, but no.” He sighed and tried to get back to his point. “Look, I know I’m not the best at handling change. When Sabrina … I don’t know. It just- it kills me that you felt like you felt so alone and didn’t think you could talk to me.” 
“Harvey-” 
“Wait, let me finish.” Harvey took another deep breath. His nose was red, either from the cold or because he was holding back tears. “I never ever wanted to be the reason why you got hurt. But I was, and I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.” 
You slid your hand over his. “Thank you,” you said quietly. 
“I’m still not done.” 
“Of course, you’re not.”
Harvey choked out another laugh and smiled. “Don’t tell Theo but you’re my best friend. And if Caliban makes you happy then … I kinda owe it to you to give him a shot.” 
“So you’ll stop antagonizing him?” you asked, sitting up a bit straighter and pointing the bottle of gin at Harvey’s chest. 
“Well, I never said that,” Harvey said dramatically. He laughed and pulled his other leg over the wall, taking the bottle from you and pulling a face after he tasted it. “Okay, what stars are we looking at tonight?” 
You threw your legs over the side and let out a deep breath as you leaned against Harvey’s arm. “Fuck if I know. Tommy was the one who remembered all that stuff.” 
“You just wanna make some up?” Harvey asked. He put his arm around your shoulder and handed the bottle back to you.
Hugging the bottle to your chest to keep the Darkness warm as it slept, you looked up to the sky and pointed to a cluster of stars. “That one’s you because it’s ugly.”
Tagged:  @caliban-is-my-girl  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @music-movies  @miss--moose  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby  @foji2000​  @hxlalokidottir​    @artaxerxesthegreat​  @thxmagic  @luquincy  @strawberriesandknives​  @xealia​  @hotmessindisguise  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @olivia-west-allen  @shelby-x​  @perseny-blog​  @millie-753​  @luneerius​  @shizzybarnaclee​  @lettherebelovex​  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​ @roxytheimmortal​  @shephard17895​  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @blondeeee-e  @piensa-bonito  @supportstudies​  @bookishaficionado​  @perfectlysane24​
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sweetestofchaos · 3 years
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𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉ℯ𝓈𝓉 𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈 🍦 1,646
Trope: College AU Waring(s): Fluff. Interracial Couple. Flirting. First Date Chapter(s): One Shot Description: Felix has more to offer than what’s at his bake stand. Paring(s): BakingMajor!Felix & Black!Reader
~ 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍 𝖬𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 ~
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Today was the big day! Today was the baking competition at XX college and Felix was exited. He spent many hours researching and experimenting with different flavors and textures. Felix isn’t really sure if he will win, and truthfully, he doesn’t care. He just wants to see people enjoy his baking. The competition was being judged by other students in the music department. The two majors were working together to raise money for a charity that the two main teachers supported since they were married to each other. The idea was simple, host a concert and bake sale at the same time. The winners from each group got a gift certificate for two to the café that opened in town.
Felix had his booth all set up with the help of his friend, Jisung, who was majoring in music engineering. Felix’s booth was filled with different types of cupcakes, brownies and chocolate covered strawberries; the three sweets people could never turn away from. The color theme was cute, sea foam green and pastel yellow, very easy on the eyes while speaking to the stomach. It was starting to get busy, people of all ages milled around campus with cash in their pockets looking to buy the best of the best. The smile on Felix’s lips never left his face as he greeted and filled orders. Jisung helped too, restocking empty spots and offering a bad joke with each purchase.
 Felix was in his own little world, focused on making sure everything was okay while Jisung ran off to use the bathroom. The line went away as the first part of the concert started and Felix was glad. As much fun as he was having, he needed to sit down and take a break. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Felix checked the time and sighed. It was only quarter past noon, and he was running low on chocolate covered strawberries. Felix wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that his baked goods were going so quickly. He was having a good time and he didn’t want it to end. At least that’s what Felix thought before you showed up.
 You saw Felix’s shop from across the booth that you were visiting. Felix was alone and fiddling around on his phone and the sign in front of him read Lixie’s Sweetest Sweets. The layout was cute and made you want to see what he had to offer. Saying goodbye to the current owner of the booth you were in front of, you made your way towards Felix’s booth making sure to avoid all the people in the way. Once you had a clear view of Felix’s menu, you stood off to the side as you tried to figure out what you wanted to try. Everything sounded and looked amazing. A cool breeze swept across campus, stealing the scent of your perfume as it pushed around Felix’s hair.
 Turning his head in the direction of the sudden scent, Felix felt his mouth go dry. Standing in front of his candy dipped brownies was a woman that he never saw before, and she was breath taking. Scrambling to his feet, Felix hurried to stand in front of you and you gave him a smile.
 “Everything looks so good.” You mused as you looked over the endless options of treats.
 “I reckon.” Felix rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. “Is-is there anything that you w-want?”
 You laughed with a nod of your head, “I want everything, but my wallet is telling me no.” You reached into your back pocket and the smile that was on your face dropped.
 “Is everything right?” Felix felt his heart drop when he saw you frown.
 “…I think I lost my wallet.” Felix’s eyes widened at your words and he looked around behind you. “Good thing I didn’t have anything important in it.” You sighed in relief and the confusion was clear on Felix’s freckled face. “I always keep everything in a purse, but I keep my money in my wallet.”
 “Oh…well it still sucks that you lost your money.”
 “I know! Now I can’t buy anything.” You pouted and Felix licked his lips as he looked at you.
 “I can make you a deal. You interested?”
 “What kind of deal?” You raised your eyebrow and Felix blushed.
 “You can have anything you want, free of charge…” You crossed your arms over your chest and motioned for Felix to continue. “If you go on a date with me?”
 You were shocked by the offer. “A date? I don’t even know your name.”
 Felix held out his hand for you to shake. “Name’s Felix!”
 You took hold of Felix’s hand and laughed, “I’m Y/N…and I accept your offer.”
 <><<><><> 
 You were running late for your date with Felix, and you texted him earlier to let him know. Your last class for the afternoon ran over by fifteen minutes and you felt bad, you knew Felix was most likely already at the café waiting for you. Thankfully, a friend of yours was kind enough to give you a lift, so you didn’t have to jog in high heels. When you walked into the café you were smacked in the face by so many different scents, but it warmed your soul. The café had a very welcoming aura to it and once Felix called you name, it almost felt like home. You hurried your steps over towards Felix’s table and he jumped up to pull your chair out for you.
 “Sorry for being so late. Were you waiting long?”
 Felix shook his head as he sat down across from you. “Yeah, nah. I was leaving when I got your text, so I just got here a little while ago.”
 “So will any of this be better than the campus baking champs’ treats?”
 Felix blushed as he laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “This cafe was the prize for winning first place, so I hope so.”
 The conversation between the two of you seemed to never end. You didn’t have a lot in common, but the number of interests that you both held for your talents spoke volumes and it was easy to keep finding new topics to talk about.
 “That looks so good!” You smiled as Felix licked his ice cream.
 “Y/N! This is the freshest ice cream I have ever eaten! You have to try it.” Felix held out his cone towards you and you licked it. The vanilla ice cream tasted very fresh; it couldn’t have been made more than a few hours ago. “Oi! Take a picture!”
 You pulled your phone out and switched it to portrait mode before you waited for Felix to pose. Felix held his ice cream cone up to his face and you giggled as he widened his eyes. You counted to three and took a few photos before you sent them to him. At some point the two of you left the café and Felix suggested a walk and you didn’t say no. The park Felix took you to was simple in its beauty, much like Felix himself. Many paths lead to different entrances and exits, the leaves in the trees danced with the breeze and the grass was very inviting as it bathed in the sunlight.
 Your heel caught on a pebble and Felix was quick to catch you in his embrace. Your body was presses against his side and he steadied you carefully before he took a step back. “Your ankle, right?”
 “Yeah, it was just a misstep.” You gave Felix a reassuring smile and he smiled back before he took hold of your hand in his.
 “Don’t want another misstep,” Felix winked, and heat attacked your face at his lowed tone of voice. The walk was nice, Felix shared a few horror stories from his baking classes in his youth and you shared a few stories of your childhood as well. Before you knew it, Felix was standing outside of your dorm building, your hands still laced together. “Did you have a right time?”
 You smiled at Felix’s question and nodded your head, “It was nice. Did you enjoy yourself?”
 Felix giggled while he nodded his head and a faint smile pulled at his lips as he stared at you. “I wouldn’t mind another one,” Felix admitted as he scratched the back of his neck.
 You gave Felix’s hand a light squeeze as you thought over your answer. “I think I can manage to fit you into my busy schedule.”
 “Oi!” Felix tugged on your hand and pulled you closer to him. Since you were standing on the steps of your dorm building, you were the same height as Felix. The two of you stared at each other and Felix gently grabbed your chin between the fingers of his free hand. “It’s a date then.” You could taste the sweetness of Felix’s breath on your tongue as you shared the same air.
 “Definitely a date.” No other words were spoken as Felix leaned in and your eyes slipped shut. His lips were thin and warm, faint traces of vanilla flooded your senses and you wanted more. You squeezed Felix’s hand again while your free hand snaked its way into his blonde locks. Your lips molded together and a soft groan left Felix’s throat making you pull away. You rested your forehead against Felix’s, “You taste like vanilla.”
 Felix chuckled and peeked your lips once, twice, three times before he pulled away and let go of your head. “Until next time sweetheart.” Felix bowed and your heart swooned. You gave Felix a little wave goodbye and hurried into your dorm building without another glance back. Felix watched you leave, and he sighed completely content with the day’s events. “Couldn’t have gone better.” Felix muttered to himself and headed towards his own dorm’s building.
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skullrock · 4 years
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the captain
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pairing: Steve x Hagan!Reader
request: Can I please request a fluffy fic where Steve falls for Tommy H’s sister? She stops by Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream and they go all “Oh, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other” kind of? I love your writing so much 🥺
word count: 1.8k
warnings: Steve being Big Idiot, mentions of T*mmy H*gan 
a/n: tommy’s party by peach pit intensifies in my head 
===
“We’re out of sea-berry.”
Robin doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”
Steve grabs the empty container from the display case and nearly chucks it in her direction. “We - are out - of sea-berry.” He chucks it dramatically into the trash and throws his hat on the counter, then leans forward to rest his head in his hands.
“Steve, it’s just ice cream,” Robin says. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I am having a bad day.”
Robin’s brows knit together. “Because we’re out of sea-berry?”
“It’s not about the ice cream, Robin,” he says, lifting his head to glare at her. “It’s about working at a shitty minimum wage job with this stupid hat and my arms hurt from scooping stupid ice cream for stupid customers.”
Robin puts her book down and sighs, hopping off the counter. She claps Steve’s shoulder and he bristles at the feeling. “Hey, slinging ice cream isn’t stupid.”
“Oh?” he asks. “In this - in this costume?” Steve tugs at his shirt. “You don’t think this job is stupid?”
Robin winces. “Spoiled,” she mumbles, and leans against the back counter. “How’s the girl thing coming along?”
Steve sighs loudly, dramatically, and leans against the cooler, back to the seating area. “How do you think?”
“I haven’t kept track today, but knowing your record, not good.”
“I give up!” he cries out, throwing his hands up. “I give up. The - the - God or whatever - wants me to suffer. I am fruitless.” He stares at the ground and crosses his arms. “My dad’s trying to teach me a lesson on being responsible and the universe is trying to teach me a lesson on being - I don’t know.”
“Not an asshole?”
Steve winces now, eyes trained on his shoelaces. “Yeah, maybe.”
Robin sighs, feeling some pity for the boy in front of her. “Look, you only have a few more hours, okay? Just make it til then.”
Just make it til then. Steve can do that, he thinks.
And then you come into the store.
Steve does a double take, looking up from the to-do list he’s reading for the fiftieth time that day. His brows furrow and he goes a bit slack-jawed, shocked to see you. He hadn’t seen you in forever - since junior year, at least. He hadn’t even thought about you; Tommy and all things related had been forcefully eradicated from his mind. But he knows you from anywhere - knows the freckles and hair, knows your smile. Knows the laugh you share with a friend before you walk into the store, alone, playing with your wallet.
Steve continues to stare with his mouth agape as you approach, and you also do a double-take. You remember Steve - of course you remember Steve. He was all you thought about while Tommy was close with him. You’d begged your brother two things your whole life - to stop being a dick and to get Steve to go on a date with you.
Of course, he did neither.
But you’re grown up now, more confident and less desperate for a date. Still, despite the growth, you’re completely smitten. Steve’s even cuter now, has grown into himself. His hair, salon-highlighted, bounces as you both make eye contact. You remember the moles on his neck, his hands, his eyes - god, his eyes, warm and brown and always kind even when Steve wasn’t. And he was kind, to you, at least. You could always see past the bullshit facade. You knew who he was, deep down. You knew him as a quiet boy at the pool, the one who said please and thank you to your mother, the one who shoved Tommy when Tommy was mean to you. He always wanted to make you laugh, no matter what. You just felt comfortable with him.
You realize at this point that you’ve stopped walking and you blush as your feet begin to work again.
“Look who it is,” you say, smiling widely. “The one that got away.”
Steve smiles despite not understanding the joke. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hi, Steve.”
“Been a long time,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Tommy wouldn’t tell me what happened. I just knew I wasn’t going to see you anymore.”
Steve stiffens a bit at the mention of Tommy, but he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you know -”
“I do know,” you say. “I wish I could lose Tommy and Carol.”
“I guess I got lucky, huh?”
“Yeah, guess you did,” you say, eyes trained on his. “And I got unlucky. I missed you.”
Steve perks up a bit, but his brows twitch together. “You missed me?”
“I - yeah,” you stutter, blushing. “Yeah. You were always cool and nice to me.”
Steve’s smile widens and he leans against the counter, clasping his hands together. “Yeah? Well, maybe I missed you, too.”
“Really?”
“You were fun,” he says, “and I think we connected because deep down, we both hated your brother.”
“And Carol.”
“And Carol,” he laughs. “God, remember when they made me have a pool party? And you and I went inside and played Monopoly for hours while they made out at the pool?”
You laugh, too. “Jesus Christ, your pool probably has mono.”
“Probably.”
You both stare at each other a little longer before you clear your throat. “So - ice cream? What do you recommend? I’ve never been here.”
“Lucky you,” he says, straightening. “Well, we’re out of sea-berry -”
Robin sighs behind him and he turns to glare at her, not enjoying the audience, but whips back around to you. “But we have other flavors.”
“Oh, boy,” you say, your smile starting to hurt your face. “Lay ‘em on me.”
Steve takes you through each flavor, dramatically reciting what they are and what the selling point is, handing you a small spoon for each one. You really don’t care to taste them all, but you care about talking to him - you care about your fingers brushing every time he hands you a sample, how his eyes light up when he laughs, how dorky he looks and sounds.
“We also have sundaes and stuff,” he says, “which I can also attempt to sell to you.”
“Do you make this much of an effort every time you make a sale?”
“No, just for you.”
You both blush but the smiles stay, and Robin is nearly gagging behind Steve because it’s frankly disgusting to watch straight people flirt.
“What do you usually get?” you ask. “I think I trust your judgement.”
“I don’t give this place my money,” he says, “but when I steal, I always get the USS Butterscotch.”
You wrinkle your nose. “What is it called?”
“Look, I didn’t name it!”
You laugh. “I bet you didn’t pick your uniforms, either.”
Steve snorts. “No way, I’d pick something much nicer -”
“What, like a pastel striped polo?” Robin quips from behind him.
Steve whips around again and opens his mouth to retaliate, but you say, “I think it looks good on you.”
He turns to look at you, head inclined as if to say yeah, right. “No, I look stupid.”
“No!” you protest. “It’s really nice. The color is nice on you.”
Steve can’t stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You think?”
“Yeah,” you say casually. “And it really shows off your arms and legs.”
At this point, Robin gets up and walks to the back, leaving you and Steve alone. Finally.
“What about my arms and legs needs shown off?” he asks.
You roll your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”
“Like I don’t know what?”
“That you’re cute.”
Had Steve been drinking, he would have done a spit-take.
“I mean - like - uh. Like - you’re - conventionally. Attractive,” you add, anxiety gripping your veins. “Like. You know.”
Steve smirks. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” you say, leaning across the cooler to tug on his ascot. “You know you’re attractive. That was your one personality trait.”
Steve pouts. “Hey -”
“I’m kidding,” you say, pushing him a bit before leaning back to your side of the cooler. “I’d like a - whatever you said earlier.”
Steve whips his scooper out and twirls it in his hand before getting to work. You smile as you wait, watching him do everything very dramatically and with flair. He turns and produces the concoction to you, gesturing towards it theatrically before handing it to you.
“How much?” you ask, reaching for your wallet again.
“No way,” he says, crinkling his nose. “You’re not paying.”
Your shoulders drop and you frown. “Steve, come on -”
“It’s on me. I like to steal from this place.”
You laugh and shake your head. “Like Robin Hood.”
“Sure,” he says, not knowing who that is. “Like Robin Hood.”
“This better be good,” you say. “Because I’m not coming back if it sucks.”
“That’s too bad,” he pouts, leaning against the cooler. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you outside of work, then.”
You raise a brow and smile, grabbing the spoon in your dish. “Let’s see.”
You slowly take a bite. It’s actually pretty good, but you want to see Steve somewhere else.
“It sucks,” you say. “Worst thing I’ve ever had.”
“Damn,” Steve sighs. “I guess that means I’ll have to meet you at the movies tomorrow at eight?”
“I guess so,” you say, trying to suppress a smile. “What a bummer.”
Steve smiles fondly. “What a bummer.”
After a few moments of intense eye-contact, the bell at the counter rings, signifying Erica Sinclair’s entrance. Steve sighs and grits his teeth, looking back at you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m very glad you came in here.”
“Me too,” you smile. “Tomorrow? Eight? Movies.”
“Tomorrow, eight, movies,” he repeats, nodding, and you smile wider at how his hair bobs over his forehead as he does.
“Sailor Man!”
“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, sending you one last smile before going towards the register.
===
“That was so gross,” Robin scoffs. “You guys - ugh. For fifteen minutes!”
Steve smugly smiles at her. He walks towards her board and grabs her marker, dramatically drawing a ‘I’ on his side of the board. “I rule.”
“This time,” Robin says, unable to hide her smile. “This time, you rule.”
===
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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years
Text
A Cure That Ails You
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"IT'S NOT FAIR!" "I'm sure it's not, hon..." "Like, he asks me to all these things NOW?! While I'm trying to get over him?! That oblivious, kerfluffin-!" Schnitzel sighed deeply, rolling her eyes towards a sobbing mess of a seventeen-year-old Isabella. In hindsight, this was all on the former Fireside Girl - Phineas had asked her out to some stupid festival that Danville was setting up. Isabella turned him down. Phineas was disappointed but never once felt upset over Isabella's answer, only telling her that he'll still meet up with her at the festival or whatever with whomever she was gonna go with. She told him that that one kid named...uh...what was it...Everett? No, wait, that was the bastard who broke her heart after her Bat Quincinera Mitzvah party thing. That other boy who started showing signs of having a thing for Isabella was that one kid with that completely fake British accent. Bland and forgettable to Schnitzel, though Isabella fawned over the kid's sense of humor at the very least. Humor was important in a relationship. But if Schnitzel remembered this particular kid, she remembered that he seemed much more...flamboyant for someone Isabella would be pursuing. Not that Phineas didn't have those moments, it was more like this particular kid- "CLINTON!" Schnitzel shouted, "That's his name! Clinton, right?" Isabella whined. "Yes, Clinton," she leaned her head back against her couch, covered in crumbs of cookie dough and chips, "He already asked me before...before he did. I told him I was gonna think about it..." She scooped another clump of cookie dough into her mouth and chewed. Schnitzel examined her jaw bobbing up and down like a well-oiled garbage disposal. "Don't you like that kid?" she asked, "You told your other friends you liked him, anyway. They won't shut up about how..." she trailed off and shook her head, "You flipping lied to them, didn't you?" Isabella threw her hands up into the air, nearly sending her spoon flying into the air in the process. "They wouldn't shut up about it!" she cried out, mouth still full of dough, "The girls kept pushing how I shouldn't give up on him just yet!" she had the sense to swallow before she could choke on a chocolate chip, "That we were meant to be! Love knows no limits! You have to wait for it-UGH! I just-I couldn't take it anymore!" "I get what you're saying, kid," Schnitzel frowned deeply, "But that's not a cool thing to do to a guy like Clinton. He's a cool...well...nice dude, at least. Leading him on is kind of a jerk move on your end." The fat woman could feel the sense of irritation drooling from Isabella's tone as she turned to face her. Isabella sighed. "You really can't tell?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Clinton's gay. Like, really, really gay." Schnitzel was taken aback, but not by much. "...then," she paused, "Then why is he-?" "He's not out of the closet yet," Isabella shrugged, "I and another one of his friends are the only ones who know. Though honestly, I'm surprised no one's figured it out by now. It's kinda obvious." Schnitzel blinked. "I mean, I figured," she admitted, "But, like...why would he be pretending to-," she facepalmed, "Oh, duh, this is a setup. You're trying to cover up your crush, he's trying to cover up his," she smirked, "Which one of your friends is he pining for?" "Buford," Isabella said, "Totally Buford. He hangs out with him the most. The two like to jerk around with each other." Schnitzel nodded, smiling for a moment before she noticed Isabella slumping back into a depressed pile. The former villainess scowled slightly at the sight, having hoped changing the conversation to that of Clinton's dilemma would snap Isabella away from what happened with her and Phineas. Schnitzel picked up one of the empty cookie dough canisters and lifted it up for examination. "You know," Schnitzel said slowly, "You really don't have to lie to your friends. Just talk to them. Explain that you don't appreciate-." "They wouldn't understand," Isabella insisted, "They only ever backed off when I was with...you know...and now they're kinda backing off now that I'm...interested in Clinton, you know? I...I wanna keep it that way." "It's a dumb move," Schnitzel stated bluntly, "But...I see why you're doing it...at least partly," she turned the cannister, looking for the ingredients - the odor of the dough making her lick her lips, "Your friends mean well. They do. They shouldn't push this stuff, but they definitely care," she looked over at Isabella with a frown, "But maybe you're backing the wrong horse here, too?" Isabella squinted her eyes at the greying woman in her early fifties at best. "What do you mean?" she practically scowled. "I mean that maybe," Schnitzel leaned back slightly, not looking at Isabella, "Maybe they have a point...I'm not saying you should go back to how things used to be," she briefly placed the plastic onto her lap, "It's good to take breaks. Learned that from experience," she turned to the teen carefully, "But...is giving up on the kid entirely really what you want? Or do you think it's what you have to do because you need to start 'growing up' and moving passed those supposedly childish endeavors?" "I can't revolve my entire being to him all the time," Isabella insisted, "I'm more than that!" "Yeah, well," Schnitzel drummed her fingers on the bottom of the plastic canister, "Who said you had to give up on being with Phineas in order to do that?" Schnitzel regretted her choice words, regretted the look of sheer agony that graced Isabella's face from hearing the name of her heart's desire ring in her ears. The floodgates reopened as the strong, fearless leader, Isabella, once again succumbed to a sniveling mess. Schnitzel let out another deep sigh as she returned to examining the cannister. "Why does the world hate me?!" "Heck if I know." "I don't understand why emotions work the way they do! Why can't I just MOVE THE HECK ON?!" "Feel ya, girl. I really do," Schnitzel lit up, "OH! Here it is! Ingredients!" Isabella wailed, "H-he's just so PERFECT, Alice," she insisted, "Why must he make it so hard for me to move on from?! Why does he feel the need to squeeze at my heart?!" The broken sobs that followed were bone-shattering, even for Schnitzel. A wave of guilt washed over onto her, even as her eyes refused to leave to words on the container. "Oh, Isa..." she paused upon looking at the part of the container that specifically said 'do not consumer before baking' in bold letters, wondering why she hadn't noticed that before; she glanced around the empty as well as the partly empty containers on the ground, and barely noticed the large black garbage bag beside Isabella, slowly putting two and two together, "...uh...Isabella, how much cookie dough have you been eating?" Isabella's response was a mere hiccup and a cough, having nearly choked on some more cookie dough. "Why won't Phineas love me?" she sobbed before hugging her current container close to her chest like it was her offspring. Schnitzel swallowed some air and slowly stood up, the container in hand. "Ooooookay, that's enough cookie dough, Is," she looked at the container once more and gaped, "Why...why would you buy cookie dough that uses unpasteurized eggs?" Isabella coughed again. "Why does THAT matter?" she groaned. "Well," Schnitzel walked towards the garbage bag, opened it, and saw a lot of containers and empty chip bags of varying flavors, "Raw cookie dough already gives you a strong likelihood of getting foodborne diseases," Schnitzel failed to notice Isabella's coughing suddenly turning into gagging, "But when you use unpasteurized products, it also gives you the high risk of getting-" Schnitzel cringed as she heard Isabella lurch forward and, for lack of a better word, tossed up her cookies all over her feet. The woman need not turn to look at the poor child, but did so anyway and sighed as Isabella trembled in a bent up position, whimpering. "...salmonella." (~) "Oh, Izzy...oh you poor baby..." Isabella moaned as she leaned against the toilet, feeling Phineas' hands gently rubbing her back. He sighed and shook his head, as if somewhat disappointed in her. It was both painful to see, yet far more comforting than any medicine would do for her right now. "You really should be more careful," he said sternly, "What compelled you to eat all of that anyway?" "I was," Isabella gagged again and clutched the seat, wincing, waiting...but nothing came; she slowly turned back to Phineas and swallowed dryly, "Clinton broke it off with me. I...I didn't take it well." The look on Phineas' face was as heartbroken as it made Isabella feel. She hated to see Phineas look so hurt, even when it was because she was the one in pain. She felt his arms gently wrap around her waist and his chin rest on her head ever slightly. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I know you liked him a lot." "I...yeah," Isabella laughed softly, "I did...I do...but..." her chuckles became shaken, "Phineas, I...I need to..." she fought the need to wretch as the words echoed in her mind like a broken record. "Who said you had to give up on being with Phineas...?" "Isabella?" Isabella could barely turn to look at Phineas like her neck was locked into place. But from the corner of her eyes, she could see the kindness and love that Phineas had on his face. Platonic or not, that love was real - that love was far more than worth fighting for. Worth pursuing even. He proved that by coming over today on such short notice. He proved that by dropping everything just to go see if she was doing okay. He loved her. He loved her so much... "I lied." Phineas blinked, tilting his head. "Lied?" he asked, "About what?" Isabella breathed slowly. "About me and Clinton," she explained, "I made it-made it all up," she sucked up on some air and choked in down, "I'm so, so sorry, I was," the tears poured, "I was just so tired of it all...they had so many expectations for me," she shook her head, "I just couldn't stand it. I wanted to prove I could really stand on my own." "What are you talking about?" Phineas seemed to pull in closer to Isabella, his voice filled with...hope, perhaps? Isabella wasn't entirely sure. But she desperately wanted that to be the case. That would make this so much easier to do. "From the day I met you," Isabella paused, "No, that's silly...for a long time, since we were little," she grimaced, "I felt strong feelings for you...I...loved you...and whether I wanted to or not, I," she almost broke out into a sob, the pain too much for her to handle as her stomach twisted, "I still love you. I still want you. I wish I was," she shook, "I wish I was strong enough to have told you this when-." "Izzy." Isabella flinched at her nickname, her body finally allowing her to turn and look at Phineas, who pulled his arms away from her. He cupped her face. A tender grin formed on the boy's face as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. "Izzy," he repeated, "I always-." Before he could finish, Isabella gasped out in agony and turned back to the loo, chundering once more. Phineas immediately went into position, lifting up Isabella's hair, serenely humming as she finished, a worried frown still in place even as he continued to try and soothe her. Once Isabella had finished, she looked over at Phineas, a shaken up smile forming. He opened his mouth to finish his previous statement before the door opened. "I'm back with some water," Schnitzel stated walking in slowly, looking around, "Were you...talking to someone?" Isabella was afraid to look away from Schnitzel. She was afraid to look behind her. She really didn't have to. She already knew the truth, anyway. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt her to see the confirmation first hand. And yet her head turned. Like an idiot, she looked, a small, stupid bead of hope shining in her chest. The same one that refused to die like the rest of it. And the fruits of that hope was met with an empty spot where Phineas was once kneeling at. Some hair that he had been caressing slid onto her skin as she sniffed. Schnitzel took another step closer. "Isabella?" The automatic action of any human being with even the smallest shred of decency was to immediately reached down and clutch the poor, sobbing mess close to her. The once ugly tears of over-dramatics had turned into something far more self-destructive. Schnitzel felt this the moment she felt Isabella's tears on her shoulder as she hugged her close. Rather than disappear, the bead of hope in Isabella's chest proceeded to taunt her with small maybe's and what if's before it was briefly drowned away in fragmented sorrow. Who did Isabella think she was kidding? Phineas would never truly feel that way for her, no matter how many times she could've sworn he did.
"Let it out, Izzy," Schnitzel cooed, brushing the girl's black locks between her fingers, "Let it out..."
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fanatic-author · 3 years
Text
Murder Is Not On The Agenda
Rating: T (swearing) Warnings: swearing Category: Gen Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia Relationships: Dabi & Shigaraki & Toga Language: English Words: 2,162 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Three villains go on an ice cream run in the middle of the night and absolutely nothing goes wrong. Yeah, right.
Read it here on AO3!
“Tomura, I think I’m dying.” Toga moaned where she lay spread out on the couch.  
“Shut the fuck up.” he replied, not even bothering to look at her. He had the electric fan, and everyone else could suck it.
“Tomura.” Dabi whined from his spot on the floor.
“What.”
“I think I’m dying.”  
“Sucks.”
The fact of the matter was, it was nearly 30 degrees and almost 11 o clock at night, which meant it was  hot  with no sign of cooling off anytime soon. And with 7 people sharing a space, it was getting unbearable.
“Shiggy, give me the fan. Kurogiri tell Shiggy it’s my turn with the fan!”
“Eat my ass, bitch.”
Compress was fanning himself with his mask; trench coat, top hat, and even balaclava removed in the intense heat. Spinner was no better, elaborate stain costume stashed somewhere not on his body in favor of as little clothing as possible. When questioned about why a  reptile  which was typically cold blooded had to  cool off , they were met with double fingers and a grumbled “I’m human underneath the scales.”  
The one probably faring the worst of all of them was Twice. He refused to take off his mask, and as such was gently being prodded by Kurogiri to periodically suck on ice cubes. The heat didn’t seem to have much an effect on the warper. Perks of being a living cloud, one supposed.  
“Shiggy do somethiiiiiiiiing.” Toga continued whining, one hand fanning herself and the other laying listlessly off the couch.  
“Do something? You want me to do something!? I don’t control the weather Toga! I don’t control the thermostat, or the pressure systems, or the tilt of the earth this time of the year!” he shouted.
“But you can control the tilt the rest of the year?” Dabi quipped, still lying vulnerable on the floor.  
This vulnerability was immediately exploited by Tomura who launched himself across the room to body slam Dabi, a surprised and breathless “OOF” leaving him. The two of them began rolling around the floor, slapping and pinching the other, but they quickly fell apart in the overwhelming heat.  
“I think I would give my left nut for that Todoroki kid’s ice quirk right about now.” Spinner said from his spot near the window, raising many questions regarding reptiles and nuts no one wanted to ask.  
Dabi twitched but it was Toga who said “Man, I bet he can make ice cream whenever he wants!”  
“That sounds like a hassle.” replied Spinner.
“What?”
“Making ice cream. Way easier to go buy some.”  
“How?”  
Dabi, Tomura, and Spinner all simultaneously replied “Money can be exchanged for goods and services.” Compress pinched his nose. Twice groaned in overheating agony.  
“Maybe you should participate in our stimulating economy” Kurogiri said “and fetch the rest of us some ice cream.”
“You don’t even feel the heat.” retorted Tomura, but Toga and Dabi had already gotten to their feet, and compress was rifling through his wallet for what bills he had on hand.  
“Get me an ice cream, none of that popsicle crap.” He said, giving Tomura the cash.  
“Screw you.”
In the end it was only Tomura, Dabi, and Toga going because Twice was still too hot, Spinner argued he’d attract too much attention, and Compress was paying. Kurogiri made them walk because he was an ass, according to Tomura.  
“We would attract so much attention if we warped to the 7-11 in the middle of the night.” Dabi pointed out “Like, they would call All Might out of retirement just to beat our ass.”  
“I’d take him.” Tomura deadpanned.  
“If you saw All Might’s emaciated form, you’d piss your pants running.”  
It had been like this for the last fifteen minutes they’d spent walking in the muggy heat to nearest 24-hour convenience store, which when you were hiding from any and all levels of law enforcement, was not anywhere near where they lived. Whenever the conversation seemed to slow down, Toga interjected with just enough barb to get the argument rolling again.  
“Fuck, marry, kill: All Might, Endeavor, Hawks”  
“Kill all 3.” Tomura replied.  
Toga stuck out her tongue at him “You’re no fun. Dabi?”
“Kill Endeavor, fuck Hawks, marry All Might. He’d treat me right.”  
Toga swooned “Oh he would, wouldn’t he? Always coughing up blood...”  
Tomura murmured “freak” under his breath, with only a teaspoon of malice. The three of them entered 7-11, identities hidden from the cameras (and prone to panicking cashiers) under face masks.
“Cuz this isn’t suspicious as all hell” Dabi muttered under his breath “Spinner should have had to come.”  
The argument had been made that either spinner should have to come or Dabi should be allowed to stay, but Kurogiri insisted on adult supervision for the other 2, no matter Tomura was probably the oldest of the three of them, but he didn’t count because he was Tomura. Dabi had that kind of face that one would assume is older than it actually was, probably because of the horrific scar tissue.  
The three of them gathered around the cooler, bills in hand, staring down the various cool treats.  
“This is all gonna be melted by the time we get back anyway.” Toga pointed out.  
Tomura said “Well the rest of them should have thought of that before giving us their money. Just grab whatever you want.” He proceeded to do so, plucking ice cream cones and popsicles from their icy shelves. Dabi wandered over to the slushy machine.  
Toga grabbed a misshapen SpongeBob popsicle for herself, Tomura despite knowing it was a waste had grabbed three ice creams and one popsicle (for compress), Dabi was currently filling an extra-large slushy. None of the 3 paid particularly close attention to the overhead door bell jingling.  
They  did  however, begin paying attention at the obnoxious voices that had made their way inside.  
“Alright! Uraraka you are on candy duty, Kirishima! Retrieve the slushies! Midoriya, here is the ice cream list, and I shall get chips! Does everyone else have their lists? Reconvene here once you have gotten everything, or close alternatives if the first option is not available!”  
There were various sounds of assent and agreement, which were largely missed by the two villains, too busy shitting their pants.  
“What? How?” Toga whispered, already dropped to a crouch behind the cooler.  
“I don’t know! Shut up!” Tomura hissed back, crouched behind Toga., the various treats shoved in his pockets. He had no qualms using her as a meat shield if spotted.
“Where’s Dabi?”
“He went to the slushy machine.”  
They both peered around the cooler to look where Dabi had gone. Where’d he’d standing instead sat a lone, spilt, extra-large slushy.  
“Oh my god they killed Dabi.” Toga whispered.  
Tomura nodded in agreement “Well, let’s cut our losses and get out of here.”  
“Man, fuck you guys.”  
Both Tomura and Toga shrieked as Dabi came up behind them, and then immediately shushed the other. Unfortunately for the three villains hiding behind an ice cream cooler in a 7-11 in the middle of the night, stealth was not their forte. Quite frankly, not much was.  
A nearby voice, rapidly getting louder, asked “Did you guys hear that?”  
Neither of the three villains waited for their nemesis, one Midoriya Izuku aka the second coming of All Might himself to find them. Toga dashed to hide behind the shelves of snacks in the center of the store. Tomura and Dabi weighed their options, but the prospect of getting blown through a wall at Mach 3 had them quickly following.  
Toga stood crouched in the beef jerky aisle, with the sound of The Uglier Sonic only one aisle over.
“We. Need. To. Get. Out. Of. Here.” Tomura bit, out as quietly as possible.  
“I vote we use Toga as bait.”  
“ Hey!”  
Tomura shushed them both, all three of them listening to see if their conversation had attracted any unwanted attention.  
“... and 3 bags of sour cream and onion, one of ketchup, and one of... Excuse me, Midoriya? Do you happen to know of the flavor “Chungus?” Kaminari requested a big bag of... why are you laughing?”  
Dabi looked like he was going to have a stroke trying to contain his laughter.  
“I love those stupid kids.” he said.  
“Yeah, that’s why we’re trying to kill them.” Toga agreed.  
Dabi looked to Tomura “So what’s the plan, boss? Light, and run?”  
He shook his head “No, no way. I’m not dealing with these snot-nosed brats today. I just want to go home, and bitch about the heat some more. Murder was not, and is still not, on the agenda.”  
Dabi carefully extinguished the blue flame in his hand “Ok, but we still need a way out.”  
“Alright, boy wonder is at the ice cream cooler, Dwayne Johnson is at the slushy machine, Glinda is grabbing candy 3 aisles over, and we’re less than 2 feet from a speeding bullet. Anything in our way between us and the door?”  
“No.” Dabi answered, right as Toga said “Yes.”  
“What?”  
Wordlessly she pointed, and there standing just outside the door was the worst one yet. Their homeroom teacher. Of course the kids couldn’t just go anywhere they liked off campus in the middle of the night, they had to be accompanied. He was probably making sure no one got in the store to hurt them.  
“If this was an assassination attempt, we’d be killing it right now.” Dabi said.  
Toga said “Ha. Pun.”  
Tomura wanted to pull his hair out “We’re never this successful when we’re actually trying, what gives?”  
The three of them put their heads together.  
“Think they’ll give me a nicer cell if I sell you two out?” Dabi had a hand on his chin in contemplation.
Tomura hit him.  
“I think stabbing is a viable solution.”
“I think one or more heroes is going to be scraping you off their knuckles if you try.”
“What if we got you to a wall? Make us a hole, then make a run for it?”  
Tomura nodded “I could do it.”  
The three of them began creeping towards the far end of the aisle, closest to an outer wall, when a large yelp, and a crashing sound made the three of them jump. Toga actually startled so hard she hit the shelf behind her, making a frankly impressive amount of noise considering. Thankfully it was drowned out by the sounds of alarm coming from the other occupants of the store.  
“Ow...”  
“Kirishima! are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I slipped in some...”  
“I’m coming!”  
Then there was the familiar sound of engines revving, and then a  very  impressive crashing sound, followed by two pained cries this time.  
“Dude, why?” one groaned.  
“I apologize, I did not see the slushy on the ground.” The other moaned.  
The front door bell chimed rather aggressively as the front door slammed open, a very menacing aura entering that had each person in that store reconsidering every decision that brought them there in that moment.  
“What. Is. Going. On. Here?” A gruff voice asked, belonging none other than to one pissed off Eraserhead, a voice every villain in the league was familiar with by this point. It usually precluded getting your ass kicked.
All the students gathered around their fallen friends and began clamoring to explain themselves at once, voices shouting and pointing out facts and telling wildly outlandish tales of sabotage slushies on the ground. The volume of the group rose and rose as each member tried to talk over the other.  
“Well that was easy. See ya, suckers.” Dabi said, dashing from his point of cover and out the door.  
Toga quickly followed, and Tomura hesitated but as the group remained quite thoroughly distracted, he soon followed as well. No one inside noticed the three villains taking off in to the night.  
“Holy shit!” Toga laughed outrageously, now several blocks from the convenience store, and lavishing in her nearly lost freedom. She jumped off the sidewalk, running around with her arms spread in malicious joy.  
“Just so you guys know, I wouldn’t have actually sold you out for a better cell. Just so we’re clear.”  
“Shut up while you’re ahead, Dabi”
Toga howled in joy “and I didn’t even have to pay for my ice cream!” She pulled out her SpongeBob popsicle, ripping the wrapper off to expose the misshapen face that was supposedly a cartoon character. She plopped it in her mouth with a satisfied hum.  
“Oh my god.” Tomura stuck his own hands in his pockets, pulling out the treats he’d shoved in there when this all began.  
“Oh, hell yeah!” Dabi plucked one of the packaged ice cream cones from his hand. Tomura didn’t even fight him for it, ripping open his own ice cream treat and digging in.  
He couldn’t help chuckling “Those heroes helped us rob a convenience store.”  
Dabi nodded “This is the best day of my life.”  
23 notes · View notes
jiminrings · 4 years
Note
hi so i saw that you're okay with writing blurbs (totally fine if you're not up to it tho) i just wanted to ask about the homebound au, you mention that jimin has a tough love relationship with y/n so can you elaborate more on that?? like how their relationship is? tysm and i love ur writings :((
homebound: tough love
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pairing: best friend!jimin x y/n
glimpse: jimin has a tough love relationship with pit stop crew!y/n, and you’re very determined to get him to smile :D
wordcount: 3k
notes: thank u so much baby!!! ur cute and i love you
this is an in-depth take of jimin and y/n’s friendship from homebound, the racer!yoongi fic and in there originally jimin is sO annoyed by u hehe but there iS this piece as his redemption arc // gif isn’t mine!!
in your very humble opinion
first impressions in first days in literally EVERY setting possible last for a lifetime
yeah sure time and influence would change these relationships built on first days bUt of course they matter!!!!
that would be the first memory someone’s ever gonna have of you and that shit’s crazy if u really think about it
you didn’t really pay mind to first impressions at first because you really thought that it’s whatever the other person makes of you,,, for being yourself
but then jungkook happened
and then sUDDENLY YOU BECOME MORE COMPETITIVE THAN YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE
it’s both your first day for work but for different teams and the two of you could still be up on each other’s throats buT it’s just via text
update: jungkook bought FOUR boxes of donuts all in different flavors and that’s just for his fellow crew members
for his crew chief, he deadass bought him a dozen for himself AND jungkook even made a crepe cake for the guy!! from SCRATCH
for jung hoseok the racer? tiny cups of ice cream cake packed in a little cOOLER he specifically bought for this reason alone
even sent pictures of those two large bags with him that he’s gripping in one hand alone....
your heart warms that oH look a selfie that a smiling koo sent AAAAAAAND he’s flipping me off :))
no worries tho you came fully prepared
you’ve baked red velvet crinkle cookies!! just two of em stacked and in the middle is cream cheese icing that tastes sO heavenly
although only 1/4 of them you did yourself because they looked like they were the only good ones from the two batches you’ve made hehe
the rest of those you just ordered and gODDAMN were they v delectable and scrumptious
now min yoongi the racer couldn’t be here for the first day because uh from what you’ve heard, he’s uh somehwere in malta with his girlfriend and the flights out of malta are cANCELLED aha
that just means you have to pour your all to your crew chief
a separate box of red velvet crinkles
AND THEN
get this
a large tupperware you had to buy,,
filled with different types of pstries and bREAD
cream puffs and pretzels and blueberry muffins then buttered croissants and basically everything else that u could check out with a reasonable expiry date
a little sticky note right in the muddle
“let’s get this bread :D”
bread meaning dubs and dubs meaning wins aHa get it?? get it?? do u get it
you’re really aiming to give it to mr. park jimin himself
you’ve actually never met him but you heard his name a handful when you were still a trainee
park jimin sounds so much of a dignified name it’s absolutely intimidating
much more so when you’re knocking at his door and there’s a gentle hum from inside the door and you’re so nervous to differentiate whether that was a signal for you to come in or dON’T
spoiler alert: you came in at what you assume is the middle of the call your crew chief was making and oh-
oH HE’S A FINE CREW CHIEF ALRIGHT
he’s young!! even looks like he’s just in the same age as you are and you can’t really tel because WOW
you honestly thought mr. park jimin was just an old sack of rice or something
like maybe even fermented rice wine old
you didn’t knOw mr. park jimin is THIS
ok jimin’s peeved because uh that him clearly meant no but also curious at the same time because who r u
he was in the middle of a call with yoongi who’s called him in his office phone which is why he’s sped all the way here, hence why you haven’t seen him in the gathering downstairs
he also acts as yoongi’s manager besides being his crew chief and he’s unknowingly fit into the position
it’s like when a professor groups you and there’s no assigned leader but eVERYONE knows who the leader is even if so
now he’s kinda in the middle of berating yoongi because he should’ve came home tWO days ago but he wanted to extend alright and now look who won’t be coming home for another three days :D
suddenly the door bursts open and he sees an unfamiliar face peeking through and???
“.... can i help you?”
oH RIGHT INTRODUCTIONS!!
“mr. park!! oR should i call you jimin?? should i call you doc like from cars the movie because i thOught that’s what usually happens???”
who are you
who ARE you
you’re so nervous that you went down the cars movie spiel and that’s jUNGKOOK’S move and maybe you’ve been spending too much time with him that you’re morphing into one person
of all the traits you could absorb it really had to be the nervous cars talk :(((
“i’m y/n y/l/n, a crew member!! i was recruited to be a trainee back in uni and i went straight to here and i heard sO much about you-“
..... hmmmmm
either you really did hear about jimin and his name makes up for some news
or you’re a liar
if he’s being frank, jimin’s only started out as crew chief like a year and a half ago
yes he knows he’s young!!!
much more young compared to the stereotypical balding crew chief with the mustache and the sun spots
there’s still some talk on to how he shouldn’t be crew chief at all because he doesn’t have like 100 years of experience like these dinosaurs do bUT HE KNOWS HE’S STILL QUALIFIED
he may be not as experienced but he knows the math!!! he knows the logistics and he knows the statistics
jimin’s smart and agile and he knOws he could handle being a crew chief!!! yeah although yoongi himself is like two years older than him and bossing him is hilarious at times lol
“-and i just wanted to give you this!! y’know... for the official start of my career and a little goodie bag!!!”
he knows what you’re doing
first impressions amirite
he doesn’t care for this shit at aLL because if he may brag.,., people are immediately whipped for him and all he needs to do is smile to their direction
that’s it
oh you’re kinda embarrassing yourself in his opinion lmao but ok
“oh. i usually find red velvet too sweet.”
cool cool
now you get that not everyone is as passive-aggressive as yOU are and how you’d much rather wait to let that person pass before you talk shit
but jimin is really straightforward as you could tell
“it’s okay because there’s bREAD!!”
who doesn’t like bread :))
not uNLESS jimin hates bread or is allergic to eat it because then that means you officially have butchered your first impression
“... huh... whole container.. filled with bread...”
he’s not even feigning his expression
he looks severely underwhelmed and you wanna suck it up because if you’re gonna look tragically displeased with me boss ATLEAST do it behind my back :(((
anyways jimin stands up from his seat and outsretches his hand and that’s your cue to shake it and then leave
one problem though,,,
you see you’re wearing some rings
and he’s wearing some long-sleeves
and you are gracefully unaware that there’s a loose thread by the cuff of it and jimin over here is sporting sweater paws.,..,.
the handshake’s over but yOUR RING IN HIS CUFF ISN’T
“oH i’m so sorry sir let me just-“
you’re tugging your hand off aND FUCK
“no y/n i’ll just-“
jimin tries to be the one to pluck it out from your ring that’s stuck but that’s too late for it now
bECAUSE THE THREAD’S ALREADY BUNCHED UP
and it’s now bunched up and when loosened :))) the thread’s already ran :))) and is very visible on jimin’s slightly expensive shirt :)))
yours and jimin’s dynamic...
it’s uh
it’s unlike no other
literally
jimin is repulsed by you
he finds that you irk him very easily and you don’t know wHY jimin finds you to be in his nerves when you literally do nothing to him
he joins in the team drills to boost morale and let the crew know that not only is he the one heading it, but he’s also with you along the way
“do you want ice cubes in your drink?”
jimin’s sunglasses are perched up just nicely on his nosebridge as he sips on his water that came from the jug
honestly the weather is just sO humid and slightly iced water just won’t cut it
“yeah sure”
he outstretches his hand for you to take the cup and put ice in it but you dON’T
you don’t take it away from him!!!!
instead
jimin sees you plopping down a handful of ice cubes in his cup with your bARE hands
b-buy you’re holding the cooler there mUST be some tongs in there
WHY DID YOU DO THAT
“they r clean and besides!! friends do that!!”
“who told you that we’re friends?”
he is the one who halts all your plans
“stop snacking” is his signature line for u whenever you’re by the pit
and yoongi isn’t even near the box yet wHY can you not snack???
you can’t even protesy because jimin already has his palm open so he coulf confiscate the gummy bears with the promise that “yea sure i’ll give you them when the race is over hmmmm yea”
of course he isn’t gonna stuff it in his pocket
he just plops them down on the table and when you ask him for them????
they’re all hot and melty and disgusting because they were accidentally left in the sun to disintegrate
“do you want some coffee?”
WHAT’S WITH YOU AND SHARING YOUR FOOD
and then he met jungkook
he’s a bit of a brat but eh jimin finds him more tolerable than you
you’re all done with the workout and your trainer sehun is just sO unforgiving like would another eight second break hurt????
you’re kind of passed out by the bench and so is everyone
“i didn’t have any kids ask me for a picture today :((“
typically after the race some people would ask for your photograph!! along with the other pit stop crew members and they just make your day!!!
yoongi isn’t the only superstaer here ok :((
“well maybe if you did your joob good, they’d actually want to be in the same frame as you are.”
jimin snorts in reply without skipping a beat and ahhhh everyone knows the two of you are gonna start fighting again
one
two
usually you just roll your eyes but-
“jimin i don’t kNOW what i ever did to you for you to hate me so much and i’ve literally done nothing but to try and be kind and patient with you!!!”
oh they’re just gonna leave collectively now
“i already know you find me insufferable you dON’T have to rub it in my face every single time.”
you just combusted actually
you’re so over with jimin treating you like a loose thread on his shirt and he discards you every TIME like so
you can’t catch a break and it’s as if you’ve never done anythint good for him ever in your whole career
you don’t make conversation with him not unless it’s for work
you don’t offer him your food
you don’t throw him a smile
he bought a box of red velvet crinkles but then you didn’t even get a piece :((
jimin is shitty at apologies and the guilt’s been eating up at him because yeah he admits that he’s crossed a line there
MULTIPLE TIMES
and most of the times it’s always intentional so that’s even more guilt-tripling
then THE incident happened
and you left
he felt the most apologetic and shitty for that because gOD you’re just so good to everyone and to especially him!!!
he’s treated you so badly and you don’t waver for a single second because up until the last minute, you were still adjusting for him!!!
you were still considering his possible promotion and him in general when he knows to himself that you could’ve easily pinned the blame on him
but you didn’t
you covered for jimin and didn’t want him to be jeopardized by yoongi’s outrage.
“i’m sorry for being an asshole to you all the time.”
the moment the season ended, he’s immediately made his way to kim kradle to apologize to you
again and again
again and again until he wore himself out and cried and you had to stop him sternly just to assure him that you’re not angry at him
he looks out for you in his own ways
jimin’s not very vocal nor showy on how thankful he is to have you as a friend
it’s to when you order a chocolate chip smoothie and then the barista gives you a matcha one and you aBSOLUTELY hate matcha
and u already paid and you don’t want to cause a scene or anything like that
“i thought you hated matcha?”
jimin’s confused because since when did you develop a love for this green thing you’ve vividly described as soggy grass after a rainstorm that tastes like soil and phlegm
“oh i sTILL do!! lmao the barista got it wrong but it’s ok i’ll-“
“absolutely not.”
and then jimin’s immediately taking your cup and the receipt on the table and he’s gOING for the counter and won’t back down even if you’re tugging at his sleeve
not only was your order replaced, you ALSO got a complimentary cookie as the manager’s apology because whew jimin could be scary
it’s when you’re cooking lunch at kim kradle and u are mighty afraid of oil splashes because who wouldn’t????
jimin would nudge you to the side and he’d wordlessly take over for you
you would fall asleep on the floor and he’d prop a pillow underneath your head quietly
if he’s in the mood he’d give you another one underneath your arms
he may call for yoongi to carry you to the couch but ok fine he carried you one time and he’ll never speak of it
he’d let you believe that a ghost carried you there or something
sometimes jimin is just his usual grumpy self and he’s always been that wat
it’s tough love
jimin really drove to kim kradle at 7 in the evening which is out of his way and out of schedule because he should’ve done this errand at the opposite part of the city,,,
but here he is
with some fever medicine and a blanket from your place (he has a spare key) because you’ve been feeling homesick with all the back and forth from kim kradle and yoongi’s place :((
“thanks, minnie. lol if only i don’t love you platonically and u weren’t an asshole to me, you would’ve tOTALLY be my boyfriend rn”
ahem
yoongi would like to make it known that HE IS HERE
he IS the boyfriend
“you guys know that i’m-“
“totally. if only i didn’t find u annoying and a bitch, we could be married right now!!”
yoongi just wants to-
jungkook pats yoongi’s head in amusement
lol he too is a lil jealous because yOU’RE his best friend but anyways
“let them be, yoongs.”
aish he’s right
it’s heartwarming to see
jimin’s only warm to a couple of people and that’s including yoongi
he’s not the most open nor affectionate person in the world but he’s trying ok and that’s good enough!!!
“i TOTALLY would’ve been the godfather to their child though lmaooo”
jungkook snickers for a side comment that’s too LOUD and he’s only half-joking if he’s being honest and-
uHHhH
quick question
is that a flying wRENCH
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uniarycode · 4 years
Text
Takari Week, Day 5 - Taichi and Yamato Step In
In which Taichi and Yamato try to help, they really do.  Written as part of @takariweek​
When it came to the hearts of others, Taichi had a habit of being hopelessly oblivious.  Despite being his oldest friend, Sora’s mood swings and eccentricities confounded him.  And It had taken years to connect Koushiro’s habit of spacing out and sudden interest in basic fashion with Mimi’s return from America.
There were a handful of confessions he had received, from women purporting that they ‘always seemed to find themselves in the same places’. Taichi had no idea who any of them even were.
So if even he was noticing something, it had to be bad.
And lately, Takeru and Hikari were acting different, even he could see that.  In public, they now stood a bit further apart than they used to.  He’d come back to his childhood home one day to find them on the couch, sitting as far apart as the parameters of the furniture would possibly allow, faces red.
He’d even seen Hikari lie, telling Miyako she’d been alone, when really, he’d seen her talking to the blond.  Had his little sister become ashamed of her once closest friend?
Clearly they were trying to hide it.  Perhaps they didn’t want anyone to worry, but something was decidedly wrong between the pair of them.
An emergency visit to Yamato’s apartment followed.  His blond best friend had noticed something similar, and the two of them started scheming on how to set things right.
Sora had called them idiots, and told them to stop messing with their siblings.
That wasn’t something Taichi was willing to do.  Hikari and Takeru had been friends for a decade. They starred in each other’s favorite memories.  There was no way Taichi would let Hikari throw away such a precious friend.
Thus, he and Yamato went straight back to scheming, despite Sora’s disapproval.
The next weekend, Tachi stopped by to take his sister out on a ‘surprise brotherly outing’.  She was a little suspicious, but came along without too much fuss.  After getting the go-ahead from his co-conspirator, Taichi ‘remembered’ he needed to stop by Yamato’s place.
Hikari, of course, was to kind to reject the Yamato’s offer to come inside, and before she could protest Taichi managed to shove her in the guest bedroom (where Takeru had been waiting obliviously) and slammed the door, using his back to barricade it.
“Taichi? what is going on here?” She asked.
“What’s the big idea?” Takeru asked as well.
The door handle jiggled, but Taichi and Yamato threw their weight against it.  “There’s no point hiding it, we know you’ve been fighting lately.” Taichi explained.
“And we aren’t letting you go until the two of you make up.” Yamato added.
“You think we are fighting?” Hikari asked incredulously.
“Yamato, I know you and Taichi like to pass time by arguing with each other, but Hikari and I are more civilized.”
The older blond let out a grunt.  “You aren’t going to fool us that easily.  I’ve noted something off about the two of you for months.”
“Fine!” Hikari cried, “Takeru, I hereby apologize for every imagined slight and nonexistent insult I threw your way.  I will take full responsibility for this fight that probably happened in an alternate dimension.”
“No, no.  I could never let you do that.” Takeru returned.  “Why, the fault is all mine.  I really should have known that our brothers have the emotional intelligence of a spoon and would have invented this fantasy argument.  Blame me.”
“Ok, I’ll blame you.”
There was a beat before Takeru responded. “Wait you aren’t actually blaming me, are you?”
“I’m just saying there are many ways I could be spending my Sunday that don’t involve being locked in a room with a third-rate writer wannabe with nothing to do.”
“That’s just cold.” Takeru said, and Taichi could have sworn he heard Hikari squeak. “Fine; there you have it, we made up.  Can we go now?”  
The door pushed against Taichi’s back again, but he did not budge.  “You really expect us to buy that?” the gogglehead asked back.
“Maybe?” Hikari responded.
“It’s true Taichi, we already kissed and made up. You better open the door quickly or who knows what might happen.  If we stay here long enough, today might just be the day Hikari loses her virginity.”
“Takeru!” Hikari shot, “You can’t just say that!”
“You could have at least tried to play along.” Takeru deadpanned.
“I’m not one of your floozies, I’m not going to just sit here and pretend to have sex with you.”
“Wow Hikari, ‘floozies’?  These are living beings we are talking about.  Besides, everything my ‘floozies’ and I do is one-hundred-percent authentic.”
“You keep telling yourself that.  It wouldn’t be the first time you thought a girl was having a better time than she actually was.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Hideto’s party, last year?  Ring any bells.”
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.  Besides, I had to stay”
“Ah yes, the foreign exchange student was there and you and her were the only ones who spoke French.  Talk about shooting fish in a barrel.”
“There were no fish and no barrels-”
“But I bet you were a quick shot.”
“Excuse me?!  Come on Hikari what is this about.”
“Like you don’t know.”
“Know what.”
“You spend all this time buttering these girls up, and then when you inevitably break their hearts the blame me.  And I’m the one who ends up dealing with the fallout.”
“….And?”
“And it sucks.  You think I enjoy it?”
“Hikari, one of your suitors literally came after me with a knife.”
“It was plastic!”
“He still could have taken out my eyes.”
“Maybe if he did I would have gone out with him.”
“Hey!”
As the two were fighting Yamato took advantage of the situation to move away from the door, collect the TV and Gamecube, and returned as they set up a game of Smash.  They were going to be here a while.
The fight swung in and out over the game music, although if their siblings noticed they made no verbal indication.  Takeru and Hikari fought on more numerous topics than Taichi actually thought they talked about.
Taichi had never know about Takeru’s apparent rivalry with Miko, their old decrepit cat, and Hikari had more than a few choice words for the hats Takeru had sported over the years.  The two seemed to argue about everything and anything.
Perhaps this was why Taichi had never seen them fight before, they had just bottled everything up, until they could take it no more.  If that was the case than they really needed to get this out of their system.
“-and I had to spend the rest of the science fair pretending I hated magnets, or else you would look stupid!  Who hates magnets?  Their cool, they make things float.” Takeru complained.
“Oh.  My.  God.  That was eighth grade!  Who even cares anymore?” Hikari returned.
“No one hates magnets Hikari, it stands out. Do you know how many people still mention that to me to this day?  Do you?”
“Zero?”
“That was a rhetorical question.”
A new face popped around the corner, eying Taichi and Yamato, still pushed flush against the door, playing their tenth round of smash while their siblings’ raised voices occasionally broke through.
“What’s going on here?” Sora asked.
“We decided to have them sort it out.” Taichi said “It’s either going really well, or horribly.”
“Well.” Yamato said confidently. “They clearly needed this.”
“You locked them in a room together?” Sora asked stifling a laugh. “You don’t even realize what you did, do you?”
Taichi and Yamato looked at each other. What had they done?  
Yamato attempted to pacify his girlfriend.  “Come now Sora, I know you didn’t want us to do anything, but we weren’t just going to sit back and let them throw everything away.”
She rolled her eyes and brought one finger to her lips. “I’ll show you.” She said, almost to low to be heard over the music of the game.  Her hand reached for the doorknob, and Taichi moved away to let the door silently open revealing a most unexpected scene.
Hikari and Takeru were decidedly not fighting.  Nor were they glaring or expressing any form of resentment at each other.
Instead they were kissing.
Takeru was lying on top of Yamato and Sora’s spare bed, and Hikari was lying on top of him.  There mouths held together by what was certainly not the first kiss of their relationship.
After a few moments, Hikari broke the kiss, pushing herself up a bit.  She winked at her apparent lover, and then began to speak again.
“Always strawberry!  I said I wanted it once. Once!  Just because you ordered hamburger once doesn’t mean I order it for you every day. There are dozens of flavors of ice-cream that…” her words trailed off as she glanced towards the door, noticing for the first time that they had an audience.
“Hikari?” Takeru asked, craning his neck to follow her line of sight. “Oh.”
“How long has this been going on?” Yamato demanded. Taichi felt a bit better knowing he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.
“How long have we been locked in here?” Takeru asked in response.
Sora scoffed. “A few months.  They didn’t want to tell anyone in case it didn’t go anywhere” she informed, cutting across Takeru’s deflection before it could do more harm.
Dots began to connect in Taichi’s head.  Lying about being together, trying not to act so close in public, being red faced and suspiciously far apart when he interrupted them.  He supposed that could paint a different picture than some friends in a prolonged fight.
“Wait.” He said, fear overriding reason as a sinister thought popped up.  “When you said earlier about Hikari’s virginity….”
“Huh?” Takeru asked, craning his neck even harder “You know a gentleman would never kiss and tell.”
He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. That stuff was some of the last things he needed to know.
“I’m not a gentleman.” Hikari said with a wicked smirk, “Does that make it okay for me to tell them?”
Taichi shot away to the kitchen. Doing his best to escape the awkward situation.  Yamato was hot on his heals.  In the back ground he heard a pair of devils rejoicing as Sora scolded them.
“Stop messing with your older brothers.”
The evil teens responded in unison. “They started it.”
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pixie-cocaine · 4 years
Text
Sweet Like Candy
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Flavor: Fluff
Brand: requested
Sweeteners: Baekhyun x Reader
Hazards: may cause tooth decay
Amount: 2.5K words
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Baekhyun was always an optimist. Always the singing that you’d wake up to in the mornings as he absent-mindedly cooked breakfast, and always the one that canceled plans at a moment’s notice to come cuddle with you when you were having a bad day. He was the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for, truly.
But one thing that he had the worst habit of, was dragging you out to loud, vibrant places when you had original plans of staying home and sleeping the day away. Sure, you absolutely loved spending time with Baekhyun, it was one of your favorite things to do, considering he was the most contagiously happy person you had the pleasure of knowing. But when you were exhausted from a day’s work and were a blink away from passing out, it was extremely inconvienient for him to wanna take you out for fun.
Like now, when he’s currently shaking you awake from a much-needed nap on your shared bed.
“Come on, wake up,” Baekhyun whined, practically trying to dislocate your shoulder with how harshly he was shoving your arm in attempts to rouse you from your sleep which, to his credit, worked.
"Hm..?" You moan as you crack an eye open, only to see Baekhyun nearly inches from your face, which in turn, makes you jump slightly before you letting out a sigh of relief, "what do you want this time?"
He couldn't help but grin at the leftover sleep in the timbre rasp of your voice. You were so cute when you woke up, he thought. The puffiness of your eyes, mattress marks lining one side of your face; it was all so endearing to him. Baekhyun reaches out to brush a thumb across your cheek.
"Wanna go somewhere fun?"
His dark eyes sparkled with life and amusement from the curtain of umber hair that fell over his eyes in soft, airy whisps. You felt your heart skip a beat at the beauty bestowed before you, almost forgetting that he had asked you a question when he cocked his head to the side. You soften suddenly. You never were good at saying no to that face. The face that you had a special weakness for.
"I don't know, Baek. I've been so...," You paused to yawn, your eyes tearing up, "So tired"
Glancing at the digital clock on your bedside table, it reads well into the afternoon, which means you have a right to be so adamant on falling back asleep. But this only makes him furrow his eyebrows as he unconsciously pokes his lip out, something he does out of habit when he’s turned down, and something he knew tugged at your heart strings like no other.
He dips his head to nuzzle his cheek against your covered legs, "Please? I'll leave you alone after...?"
Fuck.
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"You're lucky you have such a cute pout"
That pout, and that’s all it took for you to be frowning, hunched like a ball of tension in the passenger seat of Baekhyun’s car as he grinned from ear to ear, the apples of his cheeks so soft and his face radiant with joy. Adorable, he was.
“You think my pouts are cute?” Baekhyun spares a glance over at you, smile becoming wider than you thought possible.
“You know they’re cute,” you raise an eyebrow at his blatant fish for compliments, as he was always the attention-loving type. He was loveable in that type of way. Always the one to do crazy stuff for people’s entertainment, especially yours, and you knew that.
“Of course I know they’re cute, but I wanna hear that you think they’re cute”
Snorting as you look away from the passing buildings, appearances etched with glowing neon signs and streets glowing over with burstings colors at the lighting decorations, your eyes focus back on Baekhyun, taking a moment to appreciate his outfit consisting of a white hoodie screened by a red tiger-print jacket and white sweatpants, which did well to compliment his hair, swept back away from his face, and the undercut causing loose strands to fall over his eyes in different places of his forehead.
"I think your pouts are adorable, Baek. It's obvious, or else I wouldn't have even came with you."
That seems to satisfy him, if the little noise of happiness he makes is anything to go by as he reaches over the console to grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. You smile, giving it a fond squeeze looking back out the window, "So where are you taking me?"
Baekhyun merely chuckles at the question, "You'll see," he hums, "It's gonna be great, I promise."
You trust him. After all, he's never taken you somewhere that you've been bored at or not having fun, always the liveliest outings for the one he loves. He hated to see you not enjoying yourself. It was a fact he's stated countless times, after all.
“We’re here!” It doesn't take long before Baekhyun's pulling into a parking lot in front of a large, colorful arcade, and from were you can see through the glass doors, it’s crowded with groups of people, all different ages and appearances, but the one thing they all have in common is a large smile adorning their faces. They look like they’re having the time of their life, and when Baekhyun snaps a finger to pull you out of your daze, you can tell you’ll be having just as much of a blast with him by your side. 
He helps you out of the car, a hand on the small of your back as he walks you up to the entrance and holds the door for you, gesturing for you to go ahead of him, and so you do. It’s even more spacious than you thought it was; rows of different gaming machines that range from the classic crane to virtual reality rollercoasters, and tables with cartoonish designs on them. What really stands out to you is the various neon signs that occupy different walls and bathe the lively setting in different shades of orange and pink, as well as the other side of the arcade that has a more cool palette, for example, the big light blue panel which hangs overhead of a snack bar, it bendt in the form of the word ‘Candy.’ 
“I haven’t been to an arcade in so long,” You smile in awe as you look over at Baekhyun, who reaches down to grab your hand and lead you over to a ticket counter, where he politely pays for both of your game cards, turning to you whilst the employee straps a yellow band around his wrist, “Right?” He smirks, “Bet I can still beat you in all the games.”
Scoffing and crossing your arms after they fasten the same colored band onto you, “Wanna bet?”
“Whoever has the least tickets has to do whatever the person with the most tickets tells them,” He proposes, already looking smug. 
And that’s how it all went downhill. Your confidence, and your pride, all gone in a matter of two, short hours. You’d started out determined enough; your first game a fairly easy two-player shooter game, and when you lost at that, probably because of the wonky ass controls, you merely rolled your eyes at Baekhyun’s little celebration of victory. Then, making rounds through the first row of the arcade, your certainty slowly started to deteriorate with each win that your boyfriend tookーnoーstole from you. It got to a point when Baekhyun dragged you over to an old DDR game.
“Baek, you know I suck at fast-paced dance games,” You whined, ready to admit defeat when he gave another one of his complacent smiles, to which you immediately scowled at. Why did he have to be so good at everything?
“What? Giving up already?” He teased, “I mean, I don’t have a problem with winning but-”
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t mean that I’m gonna call quits!”
You groaned and stepped up on the dance pad beside Baek’s, and as you already figured, the first round was you just stumbling over your feet in order to hit the necessary notes. Baekhyun on the other hand, had only tripped a few times, but other than those couple instances, he got perfect scores without breaking a sweat. It came so easy to him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy his natural talents.
But, surprise, surprise, he’d won the three rounds that you both played, and you didn’t have to have to look at the difference in tickets to know that he’d won by a lot. You’d spent the last of your points on the DDR game, so naturally, Baekhyun giggled knowingly as he pulled you back to the front counter. “This is gonna be perfect,” He spoke to himself mostly, but absolutely didn’t mind if you heard him, either. 
“What are you gonna make me do?” You almost didn’t wanna know, mostly because of the sinister grin Baekhyun gave in response.
He swung your hand in his as you both neared the counter, “Nothing too bad.”
“You have a total of five-hundred,” The worker announced to you once he came back from feeding the tickets into a counting machine, “You can buy a medium stuffie from the wall behind me.”
Scanning the metal board that the worker sat afront, you saw a couple stuffed animals, but one that definitely stood out was a cute pink hedgehog, so you’d pointed to said pillow and hummed when the woman handed it to you. She turned to Baekhyun, “You have a total of one-thousand two-hundred, sir. You can buy from any section you see.”
That’s when you began to get nervous. Would he get something really weird and make you carry it around? You didn’t have time to think it out before he was looking at you with a smirk and proceeding to tell the woman that he would like the fluffy lion-ear headband that cost a small fifty tickets. Once the worker handed over the headband, he immediately shoved the ears on your head.
“Wha-”
“Do a little roar.”
“Huh?” You looked at him incredulously, gaping at the man like he’d just cursed your ancestors.
He only gave you his signature stunning smile, “Roar like a lion!”
“I’m not roaring, Baek.”
“We made a deal, though,” with a pout, he pushed at your arm slightly, looking like a kicked puppy, and you groaned in defeat.
You could’ve thrown up when you opened your mouth to let out a half-assed growl, but Baekhyun was loving it in every sense of the word. He clapped his hands and squished your cheeks with a bruising strength, still pulling at them when you attempted to slap his fingers away. He was going to be the death of you, really.
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“Hey babe?”
Baekhyun turns his head to look away from the wide view of the city lights to look at you, “Yeah?”
It was a couple minutes after he’d taken you away from the arcade in favor of picking up some milkshakes, that he’d spotted a lone picnic table which overlooked the city and suggested you both take a seat. He looked beautiful with the white and yellow lighting that came from below them, and you can’t help but place a hand against the skin of his jaw to caress his face. He leans into your touch with a small smile.
“What candy do you think I’d be?” 
The question is random, but it suddenly pops into your head, and you’re curious as to what his answer will be.
He thinks for a moment, “Strawberry bubblegum,” He hums in approval at his own words before taking your hand and turning the palm upwards so he can press a kiss to it. The gesture makes your heard melt where it sits, beating, in your chest.
“What candy do you think I’d be?”
Without hesitation, you grin, leaning in to capture his lips quickly. When you pull away, there’s a twinkle in your eye that reminds him of everything he loves about you. You make him so happy. You’ll never even realize the love that he feels when he sees those gorgeous eyes of yours and that stunning smile. Always such a beauty.
“Pop rocks.”
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John Wick Gift Exchange
I had: @meetmeinthematinee​
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There’s something about coming home to someone. It feels warm and good and right and, totally and completely, unfamiliar.
The sun has already long since set when John pulls into his garage. A by-product of December. A time of year that has, in all honesty, never made much sense to John. Truly, it doesn’t affect him much. There’s always someone to kill, no matter what month it is.
All December means for John is the nights are longer, so it’s easier to kill. Idly, he recognizes that there are decorations fucking everywhere. Even the Continental bought in with a giant tree in the lobby that had Charon fretting over getting pine needles everywhere. But that was it. 
He’d never really celebrated any holidays before Helen.
Thanksgiving had been… terrifying. Between Helen’s mother finding out he’d never celebrated Thanksgiving and deciding that John needed a crash course and Helen’s sixteen year old niece who kept making eyes at him for an entire weekend… well, holidays are definitely not his thing. 
Thank fuck she had promised no family for Christmas. He would have gone if she had asked, wouldn’t have even put up a fight. Her mercy is the greatest gift of all.
She still wanted to celebrate, but this time, it would only be them.
She'd taken time off work, too. The days leading up to the holiday as well as the week between Christmas and New Years. It was easy enough for him to turn down any contracts during that time.
Ten days with nowhere to be, with nothing to think about except Helen.
Still weeks away and he could barely stand the thrill of just being with her.
He was excited.
Excited was new, a feeling he hadn’t fully learned to process.
Like when Helen got home from work early or when she texted him that she missed him during the day. 
John parks his car next to Helen's SUV and revels in how good it feels to come home to her.
It's barely six when he walks into the house. Her baking makes his house smell like cookies.
And John has never been one for sweets but nothing smells better than coming home to Helen establishing herself in his kitchen.
He slips his suit jacket off as well as the Kevlar, draping both over the couch, and tossing his keys to the bowl in the hall as he walks by. 
John stops in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the sight before him.
Her dark hair was braided back and out of her face and, somehow, still dusted with flour. She wears a dark green apron, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up past her elbows as she rolls out dough on his counter.
“It smells great in here.” 
She shoots a glance over her shoulder, taking in the sight of him.
His suit is a bit rumpled and his target’s blood stain is bright against the white of his shirt. Thank fuck that the rest of it blends in with his suit. He’s certain there’s blood on his face and in his hair but he and Helen are past the point of John rushing to shower and hiding his clothes; past the point of Helen pretending not to notice.
She shakes her head, turning back to where she was rolling out “You better not be getting any blood in my kitchen, John Wick!”
He has to remember to breathe at the way she claims it as hers.
“Your kitchen, huh?” He says, ignoring her, stalking around the counter.
“Learn to bake and I’ll consider sharing.” She tells him, stepping back from the cookie dough and towards the counter behind her. “I mean it, John. No blood near my foo--”
He backs her against the stone countertop and catches her face between his hands, bending down to quiet her with a kiss.
Her lips are soft and sweet, the taste of sugar cookies lingering on tongue. She hums against him. He nibbles on her lip as he pulls away.
Opening her eyes, Helen shoots him a harmless glare, “OSHA did not certify that!”
He snorts, a hand falling from her face and trailing down her arm until he entwines their fingers together.
"I'm not going to apologize."
Her lips twitch and then she smiles, reaching up and pushing back a lock of hair out of his face.
"Not your blood?"
He shakes his head and Helen nods.
“Injuries?”
“None.”
Aside from various Continental doctors, no one had ever really assessed him before. And while Doc was phenomenal, he didn’t exactly show the love and adoration that Helen did. 
She nods again, “Good.” Her hand comes up and idly plays with the edge of his vest, “I was thinking, maybe tonight we could get a Christmas tree?”
She looks up at him, almost like she expects him to say no or put up a fight. Silly girl, he thinks. There’s not a thing he can deny her.
“Alright.”
Helen beams at him. On tiptoes, she reaches up and kisses his bearded cheek. “Go wash up. I’ll have cookies ready for you when you come downstairs. I left you something on the bed to wear.”
He steals one last kiss before leaving her in peace.
A Christmas tree. 
He’s still not entirely sure of its purpose other than a place to leave presents.
And, fuck, that was another thing.
Presents.
Not that Helen wasn’t exceedingly easy to buy for, but this was important to her. She was changing decades of tradition to spend Christmas with him, and only him. Everything had to be perfect.
He strips down and showers, quickly.
He can only imagine what she has planned for them. 
The outfit, like she had said, is laid out on the bed.
The jeans and the plain t-shirt are fine. It’s what he tends to wear when he’s not going out to kill. But the grey sweater, with white reindeer on the front, surrounded by patterns of holly branches and snowflakes was ridiculous.
Fuck.
He dresses, in everything else, but forgos the sweater, carrying it downstairs over his arm rather than putting it on.
“Hels!” He calls as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and swings into the kitchen. “What the hell is this?”
He raises the sweater up for inspection as he walks into the kitchen.
She looks up from where she is lifting the shapes she had cut into the dough and placing them on a baking tray. “That’s an ugly Christmas sweater.”
John nods once, “Okay. So you know it’s ugly?”
She shoots him a look, “It’s a thing!”
“Ugly sweaters are a thing?” He asks skeptically.
“Mhmm. I have a box of them under my bed. Which reminds me, we’re going to need to stop at my place so I can pick up my holiday decorations.”
He tries not to wince as she says my place.
John likes it better when the ownership in her language refers to what he thinks of now as their home.
Before Helen, relationships hadn’t really been a thing. He’d never considered bringing another person into his house, his space. Hell, half the people he considered friends had never seen his house. Or knew its address.
“When are we leaving?”
She slips the tray into the oven. “Twelve minutes.”
John walks over to the rack of cookies cooling and takes one. 
He’s never been one for such treats. Too sweet for his palate but he still found himself trying everything that she baked.
“Good?” she asks, wiping off the counter.
“Perfect.” John holds up the sweater, “So, do I really have to wear this?” 
“You don’t have to do anything.” Helen tells him, “But I think you’d look very sexy in a sweater.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Mhmm. Might even have to suck you off.”
John nearly chokes on the cookies, “Are you serious?”
Helen smirks at him, undoing the tie of her apron and pulling it off. “Put on the sweater and find out.”
He swallows what’s left of the cookie and wastes no time in slipping the sweater over his head. It’s ridiculous, he thinks again, noting the rows of holly and snowflakes that wrap around each of his arms. 
Helen steps over, setting her now folded apron on the counter behind him.
She inclines her head, standing on tiptoes. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips before she kisses him. Softly, gently.
She hums, “You taste sweet.”
Her hands run down his chest, the flat of his stomach, reaching for his belt.
Helen holds his eyes in hers, undoing the latch of his belt with a small smirk. She opens it before snapping the button, her fingers making quick work of the zipper as she drops to her knees.
She slips her hand into his pants, her fingers wrapping along his hardening length as she pulls him out. Helen leans forward, her tongue tracing the underside of his cock.
John takes a sharp breath as her tongue swirls around his tip.
Her wet mouth runs along him, coating him in her spit all around. Her hand, at the base of his cock, moves in tandem with her mouth.
 She circles his tip again before sucking him into her mouth.
He grips the counter behind him as she moans against him, the vibrations making him impossibly harder.
Helen angles her head and pushes her mouth up, taking him as far as she can before dragging her mouth slowly back down his length. Her tongue, all the while, teasing him. 
“Fuck!” He swears, a hand flying to her head of it’s own accord. His fingers entwine in her dark hair, pulling her closer. She whimpers on his cock, bobbing up and down under his new guidance.
Her hands wrap around his thighs, using him as leverage to take him, swallowing him down and into her throat.
The noise that leaves him isn’t entirely human and it propels her. Her throat seems to close around him as she quickens her pace, looking up at him all the while. Her large brown eyes watering as he starts to tense.
He forces his eyes to stay open as he reaches the height of pleasure, cumming down her throat as she swallows him down.
When he has released, she slowly sucks her way down his length.
She comes off his cock with a slight pop, licking her lips as she does.
John tugs her hair as she slips back to her feet and he leans down, kissing her. He can taste his own salty flavor on her tongue, mixed with the sweetness of her Christmas cookies.
His free hand slides down her body, towards her core, but Helen breaks the kiss, stepping away playfully.
“Uh-uh.” She tells him, slipping just out of his reach.
“I can’t touch you?” He asks, stepping closer.
“That depends.” She teases, “We have a lot to do tonight. If you’re good, maybe you’ll get a present later tonight.”
“Is the present your pussy?”
Helen smiles, “You’d have to be a very good boy.”
“I can be good.”
On tiptoes, Helen reaches up and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I know you can. Be a dear and go grab my purse. The cookies are almost done.”
They take her SUV. There’s far more space in her car than in his and, though John doesn’t say it, he didn’t want to explain to Aurelio that he got scratches on the roof of his car from a pine tree.
It doesn’t take long at Helen’s apartment to grab her Christmas decorations. Conveniently, they’re already packed in boxes from the previous years. 
She changes into a Christmas sweater. It has a kitten playing with an ornament and says “Meowy Christmas” in gold letters.
Ridiculous, John thinks, but adorable.
Miracle of miracles, she doesn't insist on cutting their own tree at the tree farm. Instead, she picks one that is already cut and conveniently packaged for travel.
It’s a bizarre tradition, John thinks, but says nothing. It’s worth it for the way she bounces excitedly as they strap it to the roof of her car. 
She plays Christmas music on the radio and her hand rests on his thigh as they drive.
When they get home, she transfers the music to his TV and giggles when John realizes that there are a trail of pine needles leading from the door to the living room.
“You do this every year?” John asks in disbelief.
Helen nods, closing the space between them. Her arms wind around his neck and she smiles softly, “If you hate the live tree, I promise next year we can get an artificial one. They don’t smell as good, but it won’t make a mess.”
John tries not to react at the implication that there will be a next year.
He is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to become too much for her. For someone better to come along.
She rises to give him a kiss before she releases him, opening the boxes of ornaments on his couch and removing a layer of newspaper padding.
“First thing is first,” she instructs him, taking several bound packs of lights. “You need to test each of these strands by plugging them in. If a few aren’t lit, that’s fine. But if more than a few don’t work, they can just be trashed.”
John nods and takes them over to and outlet. One by one, he tests the strands as Helen opens the other boxes of decorations. He sees the flash of tinsel being unpacked as he plugs in another strand, watching them all turn bright.
He unplugs and tests the next set and he can hear her humming along to the tune.
When all the strands are tested, he stands back up, taking the bundles to Helen.
“Next, we start stringing them on the tree.”
“All six?”
“No, I want to save at least two for the banister and another for the courtyard.” She takes the other strands over to the tree and begins fussing over the branches, fluffing them out before plugging in the first set of lights.
“Stand on that side of the tree, love.”
John follows her instructions, pushing up the sleeves on his sweater. Helen begins to weave the lights through the evergreen and hands him the string.
“And now I do what?”
“Wrap it around the tree, in the branches if you can.”
"What if it catches fire?" He asks, eyeing what she had done and trying to mirror it.
"It won't. The lights are made for this. And the wires are coated."
She takes the strand and wraps it around on her side before passing it back.
John hums, taking it and examining it anew.
"You're thinking how easy it would be to strangle someone with it, aren't you?" 
"Or hang them. You'd be shocked how many people want their relatives killed in the holiday itself."
"You already said you'd take the day off." She reprimands.
"And I will.” He promises, “I'm looking forward to having you all to myself for a little while."
A bit of pink stains her cheeks. “Good.” She tells him, connecting the next strand of lights to the first as they make their way up the tree with them. 
The song changes and John finds himself blinking at the familiarity of it. He knew Christmas songs. Even when he avoided the holiday, the music was everywhere. Each shop he entered, even if only for groceries, the train stations. Even walking down the street he often heard the carols played over a loudspeaker.
But this song he knew far more intimately.
"I know this one." He says softly.
"Know what?" Helen asks, handing John the new bundle of lights to begin stringing.
"The song. Tchaikovsky. The Nutcracker Suite."
She listens for a moment to the melody and then nods, "it's a popular one."
John hesitates, his heart contracting at the idea of sharing this particular memory. It wasn't a good one but it wasn't the worst, by far.
"You asked me a few weeks ago if I had any memories of Christmas."
Helen nods, "You said you didn't."
"And I don't, in the traditional sense. But I do remember this." He gestures vaguely to the TV, where the music plays from.
Helen sets the bundle that they have been passing in between the branches and comes around to John’s side of the tree. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." She reminds him.
"It's not bad," John admits, "But it is a little embarrassing."
That makes her smile, "Oh? Do tell."
He's not getting out of it now so he begins to explain, "When I came to America, I went to the school for assassins."
She nods, having heard him reference it in passing.
"The Ruska Roma used a theater as a cover for the entire operation. So while we were all trained in killing, we also had to learn ballet.”
Her eyes widen and John can literally see her make a conscious effort not to react to that new piece of information. It’s almost amusing to watch her try to school her face but he takes pity on her, after all, it is nearly Christmas.
“Go ahead.” He says softly.
“You took ballet!” She nearly shouts at the new revelation.
John nods, “Yes. The skills between ballet and killing people are highly transferable and--”
“Nope. Sorry, stuck on the ballet thing. I need a minute.”
Helen leans against the wall, nodding to herself. She’s still trying to contain a huge smile and a small giggle slips out as she asks, “Did you have to wear a leotard?”
Yeah, he definitely is going to regret this.
“Yes.”
But he can’t bring himself to at the delight etched on her face.
“And you performed? In front of people?”
Again, John nods.
“Who did you play?” her voice breaks slightly at the question and John rolls his eyes.
“It depended on the year. When I was younger, I usually played one of the mice or Clara’s younger brother. My final year, before I ran away, I may have had to play the role of the Nutcracker Prince.”
A sound escapes her and Helen covers her mouth. 
“You’re getting a lot of joy out of this.”
“Is there video footage?”
“No.”
There’s a flash of disappointment in her eyes but it vanishes quickly enough with all the new information she has just garnered.
“This is the best moment of my life.”
“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”
“Nope. This right here.” She tells him walking back over to the tree and stringing the lights, “My sweet Nutcracker.”
John rolls his eyes, “I already regret telling you.” 
“Nah, you don’t.” 
He hates how she’s right. And he loves how she’s right as she hands him the end of the string. They pass it back and forth, tangling the tree in a faint white glow.
He still doesn’t understand the reasoning for decorating a tree with lights, only to take them off and pack them away for eleven months. But he keeps going, eventually taking over when the strand goes above her head, out of her reach.
“You’re kinda handy.” She tells him and John circles the tree, placing them along the spots which she cannot reach.
“Guess you’ll have to keep me.”
“I mean, I could replace you with a step-ladder.” She jokes, “But I suppose you have your other uses.”
“And what are those?” John asks as he tucks the end of the strand into the branches and out of sight.
“You keep the bed warm, which is nice. And you know how I like my coffee.” She takes a step backward as John begins stalking toward her, “You’re pretty handsy-- sorry, handy, in the shower, too.”
John catches her, wrapping an arm around Helen’s waist and pulling her towards him.
“Plus, there’s the fact that I’m kind of in love with you.” Her voice softens as he strokes her face.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
John leans down and kisses her gently.
“I love you, too.” He tells her, noting how she shines under the subtle glow of the Christmas lights.
“Then I guess you’ll have to keep me.”
“Forever.” John promises because if she’ll have him, that’s how long he will hold her.
She bows her head, touching her face to his chest, breathing him in for a long moment before she slips out of his arms. She takes his hand and leads him back over to the couch and the boxes of ornaments. 
“This box first.” She tells him, showing him a handful of stacks of orbs in red, and blue, and silver, and gold. “I tend to tuck these further into the tree and save the outer branches for the more personal ornaments.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smacks his ass playfully, “Go decorate the damn tree.”
John grins, taking a handful of the ornaments over with him. Helen shows him how to use the plain ornaments to make the tree look fuller.
And then they move on to the second box, filled with much more personable ornaments.
She has about six ornaments that take on some various form of coffee cup or mug and she tells him exactly where she got it or whom she got it from. She shows him a tiny book ornament that actually has the story written inside.
“What about this one?” He asks, holding up a small gingerbread man clearly decorated by a child.
“Hannah made that for me a few years ago for Christmas.” She says, referencing her niece. 
“And this one?” He holds up a glass jellyfish, decorated with ribbons and beads.
“Spring break in college. My roommate got it for me to comemorate the day I was stung by one.”
John smirks, hanging it from a high branch so that the tendrils fell down into the tree.
He goes over, snagging a few more from the box. There’s a key, engraved with her first address and the year she bought her first home. An ornament that serves as a picture frame with Helen holding her newborn nephew, claiming World’s Best Aunt. Another mug of coffee and a small grand piano with a year etched into it. He did the math. She would have been six.
“What about this one?” He holds up the piano.
She looks up and smiles at the sight, “My grandmother got that for me after my first recital.”
“I didn’t know you played.”
“I haven’t in years.” She admits, walking over and hanging a tiny wine glass on the tree next to him. “I started taking lessons in kindergarten.. My grandmother had a grand piano in her living room. I used to go there every day to practice. Played all the way through high school.”
“And then?”
She shrugs, “I left home. Went to college. Played a bit in the music practice rooms but those were mostly reserved for students actually studying music. My grandmother passed not long after I graduated. My parents offered me the piano but I didn’t have any place to keep it.” She shrugs, “Think they sold it.”
She hangs a ceramic bee that makes a branch droop. 
“Where’d that one come from?”
“Steve.” She says, referencing her brother, “He used to call me honeybee when I was little.”
It continues to blow his mind that she has an answer for nearly every single ornament.
The frosted-glass Christmas tree once belonged to her grandmother.
The golden retriever was an homage to her first dog, Lucy.
Another picture frame ornament that had a picture of Helen and her siblings, far younger and bundled up in winter clothes standing outside with rosy cheeks.
A soccer ball from her dad.
A globe from her grandfather that had an x over New Jersey and another over where Helen had studied abroad.
There’s another of just Helen, this time as a baby, engraved with Baby’s First Christmas.
Helen sees it and her eyes spark up, “Oh! I almost forgot! I’ll be right back!”
She turns on her heel and runs back up the stairs leaving a bewildered John standing at the tree. He shakes his head and resumes going through her ornament collection.
She doesn’t take long and her footsteps soon echo off the stairs as he hurries back down. There’s a bag in her hand as she reaches him and a smile on her face.
“I picked up a few new ornaments when I went shopping earlier.”
.”Oh?”
She nods, eagerly and reaches into the bag. She pulls out a small glass bottle, the bottom painted in an amber to give the illusion of liquid. It’s labeled bourbon and John laughs as he takes it.
“Where’d you find this?”
“There was a kiosk in the mall.” She reaches into the bag, “Where I also found…” She pulls out another ornament. There was a picture of John inside of it that he recognized from a few days before, when he was making her coffee, still in his pajamas.
Etched on the edge of the frame is Baby’s First Christmas: 2009.
He shoots her a look and she just giggles. 
“Really?” He asks, not offended in the slightest, more amused than anything.
“Yeah,” she flashes a wide grin, “You’re my baby and it’s your first Christmas.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
“You think I’m cute.” She corrects, stepping over to him, and resting her head against his chest. “I just want this year to be special for you.”
“It already is.” He says, and by fuck does he mean it.
…………
Usually, almost always, John wakes up first.
His internal clock tells him to wake up with the sun while Helen prefers to sleep until six-thirty on the weekdays and eight on the weekends. It works well for him. He doesn’t need as much sleep as she does and he would much rather spend his mornings watching the woman in his arms. 
Christmas morning, he finds, is the exception. Helen is up before the sun has peaked over the horizon. He feels the bed bounce, jolting him out of his restful slumber and suddenly Helen is crawling on top of him.
A welcome occurrence, he thinks, but he doubts this will go where his first thought trails…
“It’s Christmas!” Helen says, bouncing on her knees, further jostling him.
John smirks, still not opening his eyes, and says, “So it is,” his voice still rough from sleep.
“Get up!”
He hums, “Is this what the phrase kid on Christmas refers to?”
She playfully smacks his chest, “Come on!”
John opens his eyes and glances over at the clock. “It’s not even six.”
“So?”
“So all this from the woman who once threatened to castrate me if I ever woke her up before six without a coffee in hand?”
“Its Christmas!” Helen says, like it’s an answer.
John grabs her hips and flips her to her back before she can even recognize what is happening. Rolling on top of her, John slips a hand under her shirt.
"Is it time for me to unwrap my present?"
She laughs and fuck. Everything seems surreal and he can't quite believe that this is his life.
Helen lying under him, her dark curls still mussed from sleep. An excited countenance that is almost contagious as she wakes him up to celebrate a holiday.
He half expects himself to wake up and find out it was all just a wonderful dream.
Good things don’t happen to him, but there she is.
Helen reaches up and places a hand on his cheek. She strokes it lovingly, “Stockings first. Then we can talk about unwrapping your presents.”
John slips off her and takes her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Pajamas stay on?”
She snorts, “You’re not opening presents in a three-piece.”
He kisses her head, “Yes, ma’am.”
Helen grabs him by the hand and practically drags him from the room.
His heart races in his chest. He hoped he had done good enough. Marcus seemed convinced that he had when John had consulted with the other assassin. Marcus assured him that his gifts for Helen were perfect, that she’d be thrilled, but doubt gnawed at him.
He’d never done this before, never had cause to buy another presents. And Google was helpful but he still wasn’t entirely sure if he’d managed to do a stocking right. 
John almost wants to slow her down. Her biggest present waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Too complicated to wrap, he got a novelty gigantic bow from Aurelio that usually went on cars to stick atop the gift.
There would be no missing it, he thinks, as Helen drags him down the stairs and stops.
He hears the hitch in her breath and her head swings back up to look at him, her mouth open.
Better or worse, he’s stunned her into silence.
Her eyes shift back to the grand piano sitting just under the balcony, the red bow’s ribbons flowing down the sides.
“I-- John!”
Her hand goes up to cover her mouth and he’s not quite sure what that means. If he should offer to return it and just forget about the whole thing but then she’s turning, her arms thrown around him and his heart just fucking stops.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
He’s not sure what the feeling inside of him is. It’s warm and expanding. It almost hurts with the intensity that fills him at her reaction. And fuck, but what he wouldn’t give to make her feel that way again.
“How?” Helen asks, slipping her arms from around him, wiping a watery eye.
“French doors come off their hinges.” John says, “Marcus, Aurelio, and I moved it in late last night.”
“And I slept through the three of you trying to move a piano?”
John smirks, still reveling in the foreign emotions overwhelming him, “Why do you think I kept refilling your wine last night? You were out like a light before ten.”
She wacks his arm, her face aglow with a smile, and yeah, he thinks he gets it.
He thinks he understands why people run ragged each year over finding the perfect gift. He understands that there is something beyond the blind materialism, something intricate and beautiful and special about taking care in finding something for the person you love.
Something perfect about watching Helen reach down to brush her fingers along the keys, noting the way her fingers arch to familiar forms as she tests the instrument.
A soft melody fills his usually quiet house.
Lights from the tree brighten his usually dark house.
And Helen fills his usually empty home.
He never wants this to end.
He never wants her to leave.
He’ll make her so happy that she never wants to leave, he decides. He will do whatever it takes to bring her the kind of peace that she brings to him. He’ll spend the rest of his life adoring her, loving her. Making it all worth it for her.
She looks up, smiling at him and fuck.
I’m going to marry her, John thinks.
He steps forward, closing in the space around her and wraps his arms around her waist, resting his head on hers. He closes his eyes and lets the song she is playing wash over him.
“Merry Christmas.” He whispers.
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mochikeiji · 4 years
Text
Sketch the Moment // Yamaguchi x Reader
Genre: Very Fluffy, small angst
Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x you
Artist AU
"What's wrong, (Y/n)?" Yamaguchi stops eating his yogurt, "I'm having an art block.." muttering as you shaded yet another work of disappointment, "H-hey, stop! Let me see." He sat closer to your side at the gym, gently grabbing your sketchpad out of your hands, eyes scanning the shaded, but readable drawing. "A-are you kidding me? This turned out awesome!" he praises, bewildered at your blessed hands and mind. "(Y/n), this is really amazing, I'm telling you. Keep going." still in awestruck at your other random doodles scattered on the pages, you on the other hand was bright red at his unexpected out burst, even the boys stopped for a second the moment they heard Yamaguchi yell out.
"Yamaguchi seems lively again." Sugawara chuckles as he watches the two of you chat together, "We should bring her to our games sometimes. Who knows, maybe he'll give a nice serve." Tanaka teases before throwing the ball into the air, and spiking it down. Ukai seems to agree on the idea of having you around, Yamaguchi's aura changes from being a nervous dork to a ball of sunshine.
"T-thank you, Yamaguchi.." You looked down at your hands to prevent yourself from going redder than a tomato. Yamaguchi didn't seem to hear you, and just continued to flip around the pages. He had been wanting to see your works for a very long time, but he was just shy you'd get upset if he says he wanted badly to admire your works. "Hey I've seen this one!" he points at a male costumed in a frog, "You posted this on your blog, right?" You looked at him in shock, "You, you know about that?" You fiddled with your fingers shyly, "Of course I do! I always follow any of your accounts that consist your works." he confesses, unaware of how flustered and giddy he was making you feel.
Just thinking about his reaction to your crappy works makes you over think, "Oh God, some of the lightings weren't even good.", "Some of the colors don't match the combinations of the entire drawing." oh crap, "SOME OF THEM WERE SEXUAL." You panicked silently, as Yamaguchi seems to stop flipping pages when he stumbled upon one drawing. A drawing of him. His breath hitched, fingers tracing the well colored and drawn art. It was a drawing of him in a sunflower field, smiling. Wait, didn't he took you there one time when you were looking for inspiration? Gulping down the multiple feelings, cheeks forming a soft blush, he slowly flips onto another page, this time it was a chibi version of him in a frog costume with an umbrella, hearts surrounding it. He places his hand over his mouth as one thought came into his mind about you: "so cute"
Calming his pounding heart, his fingers flipped onto more pages. Drawings of him with flower crowns, an oversize hoodie and more. There were drawings of him! No wonder why you didn't want him to see. His lips were in a goofy position, be wasn't able to express himself because if he ever did, he felt like puking or exploding of happiness. No one really thought of him as cool yet here you were, having multiple drawings of him as if he was the reason why you became motivated. He wasn't wrong at that part. "Yamaguchi." Tsukishima calls him, jolting he quickly shuts the sketchbook, surprising you as well, "Y-yeah!" he yelled, body stiff as a board. Tsukishima raises a brow, before understanding the situation and hides a small smirk, "Give us a nice serve, will you?" he held back a chuckle at his tomato looking friend before heading back to his position. Yamaguchi sighs, but quickly began sweating when he felt your eyes on him, "U-uh sorry (Y/n)! I'll walk you home, okay? H-here." quickly pushing the book on your chest, and running off to the other side of the court so you wouldn't catch his exploding face. You wondered if he seemed upset by some of your works since he didn't say anything, and stayed quiet, not knowing it was the complete opposite of that. Instead you sat there all sad, and clouded with thoughts.
Practice seemed to run by fast when you're deep in thought. Tsukishima notices how you weren't watching Yamaguchi anymore, it was an obvious routine you'd do when he was at practice, and usually while doing so you'd be down scribbling like a mad man as if you wanted to capture every moment. "Hey." He calls out to the freckled male, "Yeah, Tsukki?" placing the ball on the basket, "I'm heading out first, go take (Y/n) out will you? I think you broke her a bit." Yamaguchi felt a rush of panic in his chest when Tsukishima gestures your sad features, "Just buy her ice cream. Dork always cheers up." he pats his shoulder before grabbing his things. Yamaguchi's mind began to pounder on what on earth had he done to upset such a precious bean like you? He felt like torturing himself if he ever knew you cried because of him. Oh no, he can't even bear that thought. Quickly finishing up in cleaning the gym, he finally grabs all of his belongings, and rushes towards you, "H-hey, (Y/n)." You raised your head at his direction, he almost stutters out his words, "Um, let's go get some ice cream. My treat!" he offers, you were going to tell him that you'd rather be at home, but since it's almost like a night out with your all time crush, why the heck not?
Walking to Ukai's store was awkward and silent, when the two of you arrived, he asked if you could wait out, and he'd go in and buy, "Wait, I should be paying too." You said, feeling guilty, but mostly avoiding the soft butterflies in your stomach fluttering, "N-no! Really, please." placing his hand on yours, "Let me treat you." As if cupid had struck your heart, you felt a sharp beat in your heart seeing him smile softly before heading inside. Looking over your hand, the one he had held, you bit back a smile. "Ah, I wish I can remember this!" heart rapidly beating, "i want to draw this moment!"
"Shouldn't you be at home by now?" Yamaguchi laughs nervously before paying for the ice creams he had picked out, "Sorry coach, I promised to treat (Y/n)." he hands in the money, "Hmm, sure know how to treat a lady, don't you?" Ukai smirks as Yamaguchi's cheeks darkened, "Wouldn't mind having her around as long as you play like earlier." it was true. If you hadn't been mopping, you'd see the difference in Yamaguchi's play. His pinch serves were getting better, and he wasn't even stopping until he was told. He played like he was another version of Hinata, scary to imagine if he can muster up his dead eyes. "T-thank you!" he bows before running out, leaving Ukai in a chuckling matter at his dorky state.
"H-here." he offers, "I still remember your favorite. Luckily it was available." grabbing the delicious treat from his hands and opening the wrapper, your eyes twinkled brightly, almost drooling at the treat. Yamaguchi just stared fondly, grasping how undeniably adorable you are at this moment. Throwing both your wrappers at the bin, the both of you strolled the night streets slowly, savoring both the flavor of the ice cream and secretly the moment that was just the two of you. Yamaguchi felt the need to ask you why you look so down a while ago, he wasn't the type of guy to leave someone down the dumps. Guy can't even leave Tsukki if he calls himself lame. Mustering up the courage to face you, he speaks out your name, "(Y/n)." your eyes glanced at him, mouth sucking and licking on the ice cream. "I have a question." looking down at his shoes, "Tsukki noticed you were upset a while ago after I left you." You pulled away from your treat, and listened, "I wanted to say—" forgetting his own ice cream, he bows in front of you unexpectedly, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry if I upset you, but please don't be sad!" he raises his head, "I-i can't handle it when you're sad."
You stared at him with wide eyes. Damn, anyone would be lucky to have a guy who won't let you go home crying or upset. "I-its not you, Yamaguchi." patting his shoulder to make him stand straight, finishing the last bit of your treat. "I just thought you were upset of what you saw in my sketchbook." You scratched the back of your head, feeling his eyes watch every moment you do, "You ran away with your face red, I figured, you must've hated something you saw in there." finally confessing the trouble that has had you locked up in your head, you sigh, "I'm really sorry if you think it's you, Yamaguchi. It's just me, really! I over think a lot when I draw something." Yamaguchi never felt more embarrassed in his life. He was caught red faced, but with an entire different reason, "Um actually, (Y/n)." he began, "I ran away because..... I saw your drawings of me. " he admits, now it was your turn to become a bright red tomato. "AH! I'M SORRY, YAMAGUCHI!" You bowed, "You must think it's creepy." chuckling nervously and disappointed. "N-no! No! In fact, it's the other way around." looking at him in confusion, "I actually thought it was cute, coming from you."
Noticing his blush scatter on his face as the moon light adds the effect, your hands twitched to just grab your sketch book and immediately draw. "You know me, I run away if I feel embarrassed." He laughs softly, "But it will never mean I'm upset with you or anything, (Y/n)." feeling bold, he grabs a hold of both of your hands with his. Taking a deep breath before saying the words that would've made your entire world crumble down in cloud nine, "I like you! I really do." he grips your hands, "A-and your works! Everything, I really, really admire them. The one with the froggy me was too adorable with the hearts! A-and the one with the sunflower, its like I remember the moment over and over again. I-in which I would never ever forget!" he rambles, you unable to speak out the words you wanted to say.
"It really hurts me, on how much you get to hate yourself and your own masterpieces when all I see is absolute beauty in all of them." You felt as if you were punched in the gut when he said that. No one warned you he can pull heartstrings! "If I'm somewhat your motivation in arts, you're my motivation in playing." looking at you as if you were the most precious person he has found in the planet, "I don't mind if you keep drawing about me if I get to see and admire them for you." His voice going in a softer tone, the softest that you feel yourself melting, "and if you take my compliments too." wrapping your arms around his neck, no ounce of shyness left in both of you. "I don't mind anything as long as you can admire your works like I admire you, (Y/n)." slowly closing both of your eyes, leaning in for a sweet, soft kiss. Both stomach's filled with a million fluttering butterflies, tickling them. His hands just holding yours in a loving matter.
Pulling away, you sigh, his lips were softer than you expected. "Does that mean?" he questions, you smile at him, "I do." You confirm. Who knew he'd be the first to confess. He smiles, teeth showing, "I'm glad." You stared once more, awestruck as you memorized every inch and detail of his face. He looks back, and teases, "Take a picture it'll last long." Laughing at you, before smiling goofily and giving the back if your hand a small kiss, "But draw this moment, I promise, it's worth forever."
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