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yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

Text

A Story Told In Maybes {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life.

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer.

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale.

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again.

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted.

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality.

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense.

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price.

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is.

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him.

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart?

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need.

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more.

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word.

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you.

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san,"

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails.

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this.

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out.

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room.

"What is it?"

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper.

"What's this?"

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful.

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class."

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body.

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares. They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it.

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame.

"Who sent it?"

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him.

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue.

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight.

"I should come with you"

It's not a request but you take it as so.

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!"

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts.

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another.

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died.

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands.

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world.

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider.

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious Tsunotarou...

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miiamour · 4 years ago

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i’ll love you forever

fem!reader x regulus black

summary: regulus tries to save you from him.

warnings: death, breakup, fighting, mention of cheating, sirius & regulus argument, y/n being hopelessly in love.

word count: 1.5k

italics+sectioned: past scenes

italics+small: letters

a/n: i’m sorry if this is bad i’ve been very unmotivated and insecure ab my writing lately.

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

you never thought it was possible to love someone as much as you loved regulus. he wasn’t perfect, he had his flaw like one does, but he was yours; and he’d always be.

regulus adored his brother, despite the different views. regulus grew up watching his brother get punished and abused for being different, so regulus did what his parents said. he believed in the same morals as them and his life was easier.

when he was sixteen, he got the dark mark. you remember him crying in your arms, repeatedly apologizing to you.

—

“i’m sorry y/n” his head buried in your chest and his arms clutching onto your body “they wanted me too, i couldn’t disappoint them! sirius’ is already gone, i didn’t know what else to do!” he cried out.

when he said sirius’ name, it must’ve sparked something. his grip on your body became right her and his sobs louder, despite being muffled in your chest.

“sirius. oh my— sirius! he’s going to hate me” he sobbed at the thought of his brother resenting him.

—

it had been 2 years since that night and it had only gotten worse; he had gotten worse.

he was temperamental and he had the tendency to lash out at you now more than ever. you understood how difficult his life was and the expectations his parents had given him. the last thing he wanted to do was not excede his parents expectations.

he asked you dozens of times why you were still with him, how could you be with him. the answer was simple; you love him. you never could have broken up with him, this was just a rough patch in the path to your happily ever after— at least that’s what you told yourself.

you recalled the times that he’d sneak into your dorm in the middle of the nights and come up with crazy plans of running away together and escaping all of life’s problems; no more abusive parents, no more responsibilities, just the two of you. somewhere warm in the summer for picnics dates and cold in the winter to stay by the fireplace.

but those plans were just dreams. the more you thought about it, it was heartbreaking. no sixteen year old should fantasize about escaping life but that was what came with being regulus black’s girlfriend.

you remembered you had once walked in on regulus having a heated argument with his older brother about their family. sirius seemed as if he had gone mad, the only way you could describe it was pure rage, his eyes were full of bitterness and resentment. regulus could see the disappointment in his brothers face.

—

“i can’t believe you! how could you possibly do this! how stupid are you?” sirius screamed out, his face a bright shade of crimson red.

“how could i? are you kidding me? you left and i didn’t know what to do! some bloody brother!” regulus shouted back. you had been standing at the door way, neither of them noticing you until you began to walk away.

“oi! and who’s this, hmm? death eater girlfriend? i bet she’s just as bad as you” sirius ridiculed, his arms flaying towards you.

“don’t you dare talk about her like that!” regulus stepped in front of sirius.

without another word sirius walked out, his shoulder grazing yours as he left. regulus sat on the edge of his bed, aggressively running his hands through his hair. you slowly walked over to him, you were met with dark hazed eyes— he was so tired of everything. you just wanted to hold him and tell him everything was okay, but you couldn’t possibly lie to him.

—

everything that has happened with him led you to where you are now.

you sat atop his bed, patiently waiting for him to come back from class. you looked around his dorm, at his wall where photos and articles of the dark lord were previously plastered. you weren’t sure what happened but he suddenly wasn’t a big fan of him after he came home from holiday.

“oh, hello darling, i didn’t know you were here” regulus walked in, interrupting your thoughts.

“I‘m sorry, do want me to—” you pointed to the door.

“no, stay, i actually needed to talk to you” regulus replied as he took of his robe and loosened his tie. you could tell it was serious, he sat in front of you and looked at you, lovingly. he gently grabbed the side of your face, admiring you.

in spite of his sweet actions, there was an unsettling feeling bubbling in your stomach.

“you’re so pretty” he mumbled under his breath before shaking his head, bringing himself back to the topic of importance. “there’s something i need to tell you but you need to know that i love you...” he breathed out and shifted uncomfortably.

you noticed an expression of sorrow painted across his face. his eyes were dull and sunken, as they were most of these days. you took his hand in yours “i love you too.” you squeezed his hand gently “what is it reggie? is everything alright? i know you’ve been stressed but it’s all going to be okay—”

“i slept with someone else”.

the worrisome bubble that was previously forming in your stomach exploded, only it turned into a fulminate of agony.

“reg... how could— w-why?” you said lowly. you subconsciously moved away from him, you hands letting go of his. honestly, you didn’t even realize that you were still holding his hand.

“i’m sorry, y/n” he muttered, looking down at his fingernails.

you gently grabbed his face in your hands so that he was looking at you and brushed the hairs out of his face “h-how could you?” tears brimmed your eyes and your voice was small and shaky.

he slept with someone else. the worst part was that is that despite this, you’d still love him. even if part of you was telling you that you should hate him, you don’t think you ever could.

he kept silent, looking at you with tiresome eyes— it seemed impossible that those lifeless eyes were once filled with happiness, not despair.

“it’s okay” you mumbled, a single tear falling down your face. you hummed as you stroked his soft skin, following the curve of his cheekbones. his eyes were puffy and red, resembling yours. you leaned into his shoulder because for once, you wanted him to hold you. you wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay— even if it wasn’t.

regulus cradled your head as you sobbed in his shoulder. as much as you didn’t want to cry to him about him. you had no one else. all of your friends left you shortly after you began dating regulus because they didn’t see the sweet boy that you did— or the sweet boy that you saw.

“how c-could you? i gave you everything. three years, reggie, three years! of your bullshit. i stayed with you through everything, how could you do this to me? i was with you during everything and you just threw it all away!” you mumbled in his shoulder as you gripped onto his white shirt.

“i hate you” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear. regulus sobbed quietly as you vociferated into his shoulder. you two stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding onto one another for what you didn’t know would be the last time.

it had been months since you last heard from him. you had both graduated from hogwarts never having spoken again. to be completely honest, you still hadn’t gotten over him. it seemed impossible, as many times as you stated that you hated him. deep down, you knew that you never could because he was your true love.

it was late at night, nearly midnight, when an owl had knocked on your window with a letter. an unfamiliar owl, but very familiar hand writing. the envelope read:

‘to: y/n y/l/n’

‘from: regulus black’

every thought of happiness quickly disappeared as you opened the letter and read the first line. you never thought you could possibly feel this excruciating.

the boy that you vowed to love forever was gone.

you had no idea what to do, you’re vision was blurry and tears filled your eyes, uncontrollably falling down your face. you ran outside and you would have looked mad to other people but you didn’t care, not in the slightest. you screamed, yelled, begged at the moon and stars. how could they have taken him away.

“bring him back, please. bring him back. i need him, my love” you pleaded, you collapsed on your knees and sobbed— wishing that he could hold you like he did that last time.

—

dear y/n,

by the time you’re reading this, i’m probably already dead. you see, i’ve found out why lord voldemort is immortal and i’m planning on destroying it. i hope you understand that, everything i’ve ever done was for you. i want you know that i never cheated on you, there’s wasn’t nor is there anybody in this world who could’ve loved me the way you did. it’s been difficult, living without my true love. but i’ve managed, as will you. goodbye y/n. i’ll love you forever.

—

taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna click here to join my taglist<3

#regulus black #regulus black angst #regulus black fic #hp #the marauders era #james & peter & remus & sirius #the maruaders #regulus x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #hp fic #regulus arcturus black #mia’s work

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margaretbellaware · 3 years ago

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The Azarola Girl - Chapter 01

Masterlist

Warnings: Slight Gore, blood, violence, murder,

“Y/n, sweetheart, take this gun with you, and take your brother with you.” Ivan, Y/n’s father said, shoving the newborn and a shotgun into the young girl’s arms. Lycans were attacking the village that the small family lived in. “You keep running, you hear me? Run as fast as you can.” Y/n’s father almost yelled, fear clear in his eyes. Ivan gave his children one last hug before ushering the six year old and newborn out the back door.

The bitter air outside sent a shiver up the girl’s spine. Y/n started looking around for cloth. Anything just to make a harness to strap her brother to her. A small whine came from her newborn brother.

“I know, Viktor, I know.” Y/n whispered down to the infant in her arms. With a small shaky sigh, Y/n started taking off her sweater, leaving her arms exposed to the cold. The girl made a harness from her sweater and put her brother in it, once she made sure he was secured and supported on her torso, she started her long run.

Y/n made it into forest after running through the backroads of the village. Y/n held her brother closer, the trail she was taking wasn’t getting any easier to run on. Y/n was tackled to the ground by a disgusting lycan, Y/n didn’t react quick enough to shoot the creature. The girl was thrown down onto her back, leaving Viktor exposed.

The frail girl put her hands on the lycan’s shoulders in a weak attempt to push it off. The creature leaned down and sunk its jagged, pointy teeth into the infant. Viktor’s screams echoed through the forest. Y/n thrashed around under the lycan, wailing and screaming.

“Mother Miranda, please save us!” Y/n screamed out. Once the young girl looked down at her little brother, all hope in him being okay completely vanished. Y/n had hoped he would have gotten injured, she had hoped he got a chance at life. But when someone’s chest is ripped open, and it’s hard to recognize that person, there’s not a single chance they can live through that. More hot tears fell down Y/n’s face.

Suddenly, giant fungal roots shot up from the ground. Y/n completely blacked out, terrified for her life.

.............25 years later.............

Y/n sat next to Mother Miranda whilst she talked with the four lords. Lady Dimitrescu glanced at Y/n, wanting to include the soon-to-be lord. Although, when Alcina opened her mouth to speak, Moreau started throwing up. Y/n hurriedly shifted away.

“Oh my fucking god, are you alright?” Y/n asked, concerned yet disgusted. Mother Miranda glanced over at Y/n, clearly disappointed in her use of language.

A black force, with a marbled red throughout, dragged a chair over towards Moreau. Moreau gladly sat down, giving a faint nod to Y/n. When Y/n looked at the rest of the lords, anxiety flooded her senses, seeing all their eyes on her.

“Sorry for my use of language.” Y/n said, barely above a whisper, while looking down at her lap. Heisenberg snickered at the young woman. This caused her to shoot a quick glance at him.

“Miranda, why is this...child...here?” Karl asked, keeping his gaze on Y/n. When he saw the girl stiffen at his question, that only fed into his ego.

Y/n looked Heisenberg up and down, “Child....Do us a favor and look in the mirror, jackass.” Y/n snapped back. Lady Dimitrescu gave her a nod of approval, a smile evident on her face.

“I suggest you start controlling that little temper of yours. Who knows, you may find me useful down the line.” Heisenberg said, amused he got a reaction out of you.

“I highly doubt that you’ll be of any use to me. So, make yourself useful and go choke on a Lycan’s dick.” Y/n slightly raised her voice.

Mother Miranda slammed her hands down on the table. “Enough!” She yelled. “You’ve all known each other for years! And this nonsense never stops, you are lords, now start acting like them.” Miranda added.

“Most of us are.” Heisenberg spoke out, trying to get another rise out of Y/n.

“If you don’t hold your tongue, I will gladly remove it for you.” Alcina warned. Lady Dimitrescu couldn’t stand it when Karl would make his stupid remarks at Y/n.

“Donna, Angie, you two have been awfully quiet. Is everything okay?” Y/n asked, trying to take the awkward tension off the group. Of course, Y/n didn’t get a response. Y/n and Donna never get along anymore. All because of a small incident that happened years ago.

Y/n was playing a little too roughly with one of Donna’s dolls. Y/n, still trying to control her powers at the age of ten, may have accidentally ripped the head off the doll. And still to this day, Y/n being a fully grown adult, over twenty years later, and Donna still holds a grudge against her.

Y/n started to feel a panic attack form. “Well, it was nice talking with you all, I’m going home.” Y/n said, she hurriedly got up from her chair and sped to the door, taking her leave.

..............At Nightfall..............

Y/n was sneaking out of the village yet again. She absolutely hated this place, it was so dull and colorless. It reminded her so much of the death of her baby brother. Viktor’s screams would always echo in Y/n’s mind.

Y/n walked along a small path, thinking about what she was going to do tonight. Maybe go to some diner, get some ice cream, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do.

“Sneaking out again, I see.” A familiar voice said.

Y/n cursed under her breath as she turned around, “Tell Miranda about this and I’ll tell her about your fling with the one lady from the village.” She said, rather quickly.

Heisenberg smirked a little, taking a long drag from his cigar. “My lips are sealed.” He said, blowing smoke in Y/n’s face. She just rolled her eyes and turned her heel.

Y/n was about to take a step but she froze, she started hearing Viktor’s screams again. “Something wrong, Azarola?” Heisenberg asked.

“You know what? I’m not feeling the best, I’m not going out tonight.” Y/n said, nervously laughing as the screaming in her head got louder. She turned towards Heisenberg again, slightly stumbling.

“Y/n, where’s Viktor?” The voice of her father rang through her head. Tears pooled Y/n’s eyes. Y/n slowly stared behind Karl, a faint image of her father flashing over his shoulder.

Y/n’s mouth slightly hung open in shock and fear. “The fuck’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Karl mumbled.

“Make it stop.” Y/n cried, as more voices asked her questions, all while Viktor’s screams grew louder. “Please, make it stop.”

“Stop what?” Karl asked, stomping out his cigar. He took a step closer to the girl. Y/n just shook her head slowly. Karl gently placed his hands on the Y/n’s ears.

That didn’t really help Y/n, but it was a little calming to feel Karl’s warm hands on her skin. She was started to struggle to keep her conciseness during all this.

As Y/n’s eyes rolled back and her eyelids slowly faltered, she lost balance. Thankfully Heisenberg was close to her, immediately catching her as she started falling. “I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay.” Karl whispered.

........................................

As Karl was going to set down Y/n in her bed, her eyes fluttered open, tears brimming her eyes. For some reason the sight of Y/n like this broke his heart. Heisenberg gently placed Y/n down on her bed. Karl turned away to grab a blanket from the chair behind him.

“Karl,” Y/n’s voice broke from the lump in her throat, “Please stay, I don’t wanna be alone.” She cried, tears running down her face. Karl quickly grabbed the blanket from the chair.

“Calm down, I’m just getting a blanket.” Heisenberg said, a small sigh leaving his mouth. When he turned around and saw Y/n crying, his eyes widened slightly, his dark shades hiding his alarmed eyes. He set the blanket next to Y/n. “Come on, let’s try to sleep.” Karl whispered, taking off his shades. He pulled off his hat and his coat, setting them on the chair behind him.

“Thank you.” Y/n said, barely above a whisper. Karl just gave her a small smile when he turned back to her. He sat down in the bed, transitioning to a comfortable position to lay in, his back turned towards you. Heisenberg didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

Y/n unfolded the blanket, tossing it up in the air, watching it slowly fall on top them. She laid down, her back against Karl’s.

Karl gently reached back and lightly patted the side of Y/n’s thigh.

“Night.”

“Goodnight, Karl.”

#chris redfield #karl heisenberg #lady demitrescu #mother miranda #resident evil chris x reader #resident evil karl heisenberg #resident evil village #smut #daddy karl heisnberg

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headaching · 3 years ago

Note

titanic au solely because the sheer prospect of that is making me go insane

this au lives in my head rent free. tw attempted suicide

Finally, Zuko reached the upper deck he visited earlier that day. Taken with the never ending sea, his frenetic movements slowed as he unlocked the final gate and descended the stairs. Deliberately, he approached the barrier between the ship and the ocean, his gaze fixed only on the waves.

Looking off the ledge, it might as well have been the edge of the universe. The water resembled a black hole, endless and final. Without breaking his gaze from the water, Zuko pulled himself onto the railing, with each foot on the lowest rung.

The wind was comforting against his back, and for a moment, Zuko closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze. His labored breaths stilled along with the steady stream of tears flowing down his cheeks.

Here, everything seemed so calm; this ship was a mechanism in which all parts worked together. He thought of his body and mind, breakable and disjointed in comparison. The ship felt nothing, and if he toppled over the edge, it would continue chugging along through the sea as if nothing happened.

The crushing anxiety of his present situation with his father clutched at his chest again, and Zuko opened his eyes to look down at the railing. In one steady motion, Zuko climbed over it completely and rested his legs against the front of the barrier. The engine of the ship was louder and admittedly more threatening from this new vantage point. Zuko watched the propellors cycle through the water over and over.

Zuko was entranced by the possibility of disappearing with one deliberate move no one would know was intentional. There would be a search party for him once they realized he had gone missing, which of course would turn up nothing, and the conclusion that Zuko simply fell over the edge on accident would appease them. Azula would be next in line for Fire Lord. Ozai would blame him for being so incompetent.

They would forget about him, and all Zuko had to do was let go.

“Don’t,” a gentle, but demanding voice said not far behind him. Zuko gripped the ledge tighter as he craned his neck to see who the voice belonged to. It was the beautiful man Zuko spotted earlier that day openly staring at him on this very deck. Zuko blinked rapidly as he attempted to make sense of how the stranger could have looked any better up close than he did from far away.

Not him, Zuko thought as he flinched his face away, Not now. Aloud, Zuko asked, “Don’t what?” tearfully, and immediately regretted it.

“Don’t jump,” he replied plainly. Zuko swallowed, though his mouth was dry.

“Maybe I will,” Zuko snarled at the complete stranger. Feeling vindictive, he added, “Don’t tell me what to do.” To his annoyance, the man laughed, a cheery and sarcastic sound.

“Buddy, I hate to break it to you,” he said as he made a couple strides toward Zuko, “but when you’re being talked off a ledge, you don’t get to make the rules.”

“You aren’t talking me off the ledge,” Zuko insisted, trying to focus back on the water. “You’re annoying me.” The mystery man laughed again, and Zuko pursed his lips.

“C’mon. Take my hand,” he instructed with another step toward Zuko and his arm outstretched. Zuko shook his head stubbornly.

“No,” he yelled over the incessant warble of moving water beneath him. The man shook his head and crossed his arms.

The stranger asked in contempt, “You expect me to believe you’re…what? Standing there for the view?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything; I expect you to mind your business,” Zuko replied through gritted teeth.

“This is my business.” Zuko looked over at him to find the deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen watching his every move. The man shrugged. “I’m involved now.” Zuko groaned and shook his head. He couldn’t even die his own way.

The man began unlacing his boots, to Zuko’s bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“If you actually do this—”

“I am doing this,” Zuko asserted.

“Then why haven’t you?” In the ensuing silence, the man took off his jacket, never taking his eyes off Zuko. “Seriously, if you really wanted to, why haven’t you jumped?”

“Because you won’t leave me alone,” Zuko answered eventually, though it didn’t sound as confident as he intended. The man shook his head.

“If you do jump, I’m gonna jump in after you,” the stranger replied matter-of-factly.

“What?” Zuko asked in shock. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d die.”

“I disagree.”

“You…disagree?” Zuko sputtered.

“I’m sure it would hurt like hell,” the stranger shrugged, “but I’m a good swimmer.” Zuko laughed shrilly. “The swimming isn’t what I��d be worried about, though; it’s the cold that really gets you.” Zuko inadvertently shivered with another glance at the water.

“Cold?” Zuko cursed himself for asking, and for the obvious fear in his voice. The man nodded gravely. “How cold, exactly?”

“Cold enough,” he replied solemnly. “I grew up in the Southern Water Tribe, and take it from me, you don’t want to find out exactly how cold it is.”

“The South Pole,” Zuko said, and the man nodded.

“Have you ever been?” Zuko shook his head. “One wrong move on ice too thin, and you’re a goner. I fell in once, and it felt like a thousand swords piercing every part of my body.” The stranger’s tone was grave, his face even more dire.

Zuko exhaled slowly through his nose. He stood a little straighter, held onto the railing a little tighter. The man approached Zuko’s side with his hands on his hips and continued, “That’s why I’m hoping you’ll spare me from having to jump in and save you.” Zuko glared at him.

“I don’t need saving,” Zuko griped. The stranger smiled, and Zuko ignored how perfect it seemed to be by staring back at the water.

The man leaned in and said softly, “With all due respect, sir, you’re hanging off the side of the boat.” Zuko fought the urge to meet the stranger’s eye contact, but failed when the man’s open palm skirted into view. He wiggled his fingers, and when Zuko turned his head, he found urgency in the man’s face.

“Please don’t do this,” the man whispered earnestly. “You jump, I jump.”

Zuko sighed, and with a singular nod, he accepted the man’s offer. His hand was warm, Zuko noted, and he swore he felt an encouraging squeeze. They were close together, with the stranger’s chest pressed against his back.

Slowly, Zuko turned around one foot at a time, until they were face to face. Zuko let out a shaky sigh as he held the man’s other hand, too. The stranger sighed in relief, and with another mystifying smile, he said, “I’m Sokka.”

Sokka.

A blush crept up Zuko’s neck as he internally recognized how beautiful the name was. Sokka eyed him with an odd expression. “Zuko,” he finally replied, and an uneasy warmth engulfed him when Sokka grinned.

“I know,” Sokka said quickly, then a flash of panic overtook his eyes, which glanced away from Zuko. He continued, “I mean, I know because you’re kind of a big deal around here.” For a reason he couldn’t place, Sokka’s sudden sheepishness made Zuko smile. “Not to me, I just heard about you from other people.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said bemusedly, daring to grip Sokka’s hands tighter. Sokka met his eyes, and he smiled too, closed-mouth and lopsided.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Let’s get you over.”

Zuko nodded in agreement. He lifted a foot to step onto the next rung of the railing, but just as he shifted his weight, his heart dropped with the rest of him. With one blink of an eye, Zuko was dangling off the ship, and the only thing tethering him to safety was Sokka’s hands gripping his wrist. Time crept on at a dangerous pace.

Zuko screamed, “Sokka! Help!” over and over as his legs swung beneath him. His vision blurred, but he could still make out Sokka above him, and the upper half of his body hanging off the side of the ship. His hair fell forward and framed his face, and when Zuko squinted, he saw horror overtaking Sokka’s wide eyes.

“Hold on!” Sokka instructed, his voice full of command. He yanked Zuko up enough so he could grab at the railing with his free hand, but when Zuko tried, he just slipped farther toward his imminent death. Zuko looked down, and the water didn’t seem so comforting.

Zuko gasped and screamed again. It seemed to fill the sky, discordant and loud. His dangling hand reached for the railing again, sweaty fingers searching for a grip, but steel only greeted him. A glance upward revealed Sokka, his body doubled over the barrier, his eyes closed in concentration, holding onto Zuko with all his might.

“Sokka,” Zuko yelled over the crashing water. Piercing blue eyes opened under a furrowed brow and stared straight through him. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Sokka dismissed defiantly. “I’m right here. I won’t let go,” he promised. “You have to pull yourself up.”

The words made sense to Zuko, but his arms felt useless. He peered down again against his better judgment, and only then did he realize he was crying. “You fall, I fall,” Sokka said almost too quietly to hear. An obnoxious thumping sound surrounded him, and numbly, Zuko recognized it as his rapid heartbeat.

Now or never, Zuko told himself. With all his strength, Zuko managed to anchor himself back onto the railing using Sokka’s firm grip. As soon as Zuko had a solid hold on the barrier, Sokka’s hands snaked around his waist, leaving Zuko’s arms to rest around his shoulders.

Finally, Zuko’s back slammed into the deck of the ship. Sokka’s strong arms remained locked around him, and he blushed when he noticed their hips were pressed together. They both breathed heavily, and Zuko’s arms trembled at his sides. Their faces were close, probably too close, Zuko thought, but Sokka stayed still. He brushed a few strands of hair away from Zuko’s face with gentle fingertips.

“Are you okay?” Sokka asked carefully. Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but his throat seized and only allowed whistles of breath to escape. He searched the sky like he might find his answer in the stars.

send me the title of a wip for an excerpt!

#LEX thank you so much for asking this i hope you enjoy it!#i have. a lot more if anyone wants it skdbgkj #zukka #zukka titanic au #zuko #sokka #wip #zukka fic #becks #my work #asks #mutuals #tw attempted suicide #tw suicidal ideation #added a cut because this is long lol

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

Your First Date With Baekhyun

:: bbh x sm apprentice!reader

words. 10k

warnings ⚠️ idol au hc, pining, brief angst, eventual car sex 👀, tw light injuries bc baek is clumsy in love, oral fixation, finger sucking, rough sex, making out

↳ NOTE. here we go again with the slow burn ✊🔥

It all starts with a divine act of clumsiness.

An accident, completely out of the blue.

Who is surprised, what else could it be.

Ever since Baekhyun violently bumped into you from behind in the SM cafeteria to avoid Mark spilling red hot Americano on him… life has never been the same.

That you walked in on him walking around mighty topless, with you wanting to clear the dance practice room many hours after work three times already does not help.

It’s always the same chain of events. He practices for longer than the others and gets sweaty, pulls off his shirt, pauses the music for a five-minute break. That’s unintentionally making it seem like everyone is already gone and the room is empty — you are deceived by it every time, and he almost gets a heart attack himself. We know how easily embarrassed Baekhyun is with showing skin by accident, outside of any shower stalls that is, let alone being caught stripping by himself.

The first time he screams and you scream, off you run after quickly shutting the door. He tries his best to cover himself up with his hands, but to no avail. Lucas, Kai, and Johnny are no longer the only Magic Mikes under this rowdy fucking roof anymore. Even if you turned around fast, you saw more than a whole lot.

You know how scared Baekhyun is by surprises, he gets all fidgety. Even after four whole minutes, he still sits with the music off breathing harder than he did from powering through four jointbreaking ligament-snappers I mean EXO choreographies.

Lot of thoughts on his mind, lot of blood pumping through him. Baekhyun can hear a pretty hefty heartbeat pound in his ears. Eventually, he shakes his head at himself and does switch the music back on. But even that doesn’t distract him, nor can he concentrate on the moves. He keeps on asking himself — what the hell is wrong, what is this, why does he act like that?

So, he ends up sneaking out of the room to call it a day. You were waiting in the nearby corridor to do the cleaning after he left. But now, you hide behind a shelf with props and miscellanea to avoid him.

Of course, Baekhyun comes to grab a water bottle from said cupboard. Well, oh shit. He has his shorts on, and his calves are literally 20 inches away from you. He doesn’t see you crouching down there, but your pulse is going through the roof now, too.

In fact, not even the days when Taeyong is walking around the company in a sexy as hell crop top could cause you such a panic. And that is the highest possible bar already. The average apprentice almost faints.

There’s pungent sweat that can knock you out of your socks… and then there’s sexy sweat scent mixed with men’s deodorant. Baekhyun leaves the latter after rushing out of the corridor. It’s even more intense in the practice room, if not absolutely unbearable. Oh boy. Pheromones, please no.

It’s almost as if you’re taking a bath in cologne. You’re getting nauseous and tingly from how it gets to you. You can hardly focus on scrubbing the mirror. If only the guy knew what horniness he is causing just by infusing the air, what the fucking fuck.

The second time, he jerks up again, but tries to explain himself. But so do you, ending up with a mutual, stuttering word spill in sync.

Neither of you understood what the other was saying because you were too busy with a knee-jerk dialogue. Anxious all over, you quickly leave and eventually end up hiding behind the cupboard again. The new comeback track blasts even louder in the practice room.

The third occasion, you no longer flinch at each other and laugh a little, mighty embarrassed still, but apologize with knowing eyes. This time, you enter the room after a small „Can I?“ and at least manage to clear some noodle boxes and unused towels from the backup dancers away, and pin a new schedule to the door.

Baekhyun quickly pulls over his plain white tee and keeps on mumbling sorry, sorry like he’s Super Junior, practically scraping the ground with his hair because he bows so deep.

You’ve never seen him this awkward. Instead of his usual one-liners and most effortless conversation starters, he resorts to switching on the music again after frantically looking everywhere but in your direction. He sings his lines right along, getting back into the routine’s intricate steps.

Strange.

Very strange.

All day, he is impulsive with lightening up just about any situation. One sentence, hook line and sinker; the mood alleviates. Not this time. He’s ignoring you now that you’re in the room.

The truth is: Baekhyun can’t help but set his pupper eyes on you in all other occasions already, especially when you’re busy at a distance. And it’s making him crazy. Next day at the cafeteria, he deliberately arrives late so he can queue way, way behind you.

For the first time in all glorious epochs K-Pop history, he would let Sehun enter the line before him so he would have a shield. „Maknaes first“ is his brief comment, and Sehun thinks that Baekhyun must squarely confuse today with his birthday.

And fate says… sike. Two minutes later, a teary Mark rushes toward you and loudly apologizes for the Americano disaster. „Baekhyun was not being impolite, it was me!“

As he says just that, he turns, points right at Baekhyun’s tomato red head peeking out from behind Sehun’s shoulders, and bows to him.

The whole cafeteria is witness, including Lee Soo Man.

And SHINee, who will have gossip material for five weeks because of this. Key is already taking notes.

And BoA — who’s giggling because she’s seen it all in the business and knows exactly what’s going on with Baekhyun and you. Oh. Lord.

Baekhyun wants to sink into the ground right then and there. He’s been found out again. Of course he has to step out from his lair now and bow back to Mark, take the blame and explain the whole incident all over, and comfort him with a string of appeasing words. Which he hates for four reasons at the same time. He embarrassed Mark, himself, disturbed you the way he bumped into your back, and now you saw him hiding from… precisely you. Little does he know you did, too.

Baekhyun quickly retreats to sit next to Sehun once again after Mark has calmed down and he, being the senior as always, has performed another 180° bow to you in front of the entire staff and idol audience, causing his oversized shirt to slip downward, way to his armpits.

Goodness gracious.

BoA is this close to shouting „get a room“ upon seeing Baekhyun stand in front of you with his stomach all bare until he has hastily tucked his shirt back into this place. Fast as it happens, you can’t hide your reaction face.

Chanyeol, sitting at a nearby table, does a telling reaction noise himself, and you can tell he’s read the situation to a T. Even worse, he’s whistling. You can fool a lot of people, but not Park „Radar“ Chanyeol. He’s a himbo incarnate, but this guy’s emotional intelligence is too damn strong, and he knows Baekhyun inside out. Oh shit, man.

The next ten minutes are fraught with a weird, sonorous mumbling in the room. Lee Soo Man doesn’t really get it, thank God. But the meaning of Baekhyun silently cowering behind Sehun while eating his kimchi stew is more than obvious to half of the people around. Baekhyun never fucking acts like this, even when he’s sad.

It’s like something is pushing the two of you into humiliating situations like that ever since you started to work at SM since last May. Literally Baekhyun can’t stop apologizing to you all day because he’s suddenly clumsy or the strangest situations happen.

Nope, he doesn’t do it on purpose. But yes, he finds himself enjoying your attention. So what is he going to do? This keeps being stuck on his mind. Especially because half of EXO, NCT, and SuperM is asking him what the hell is going on in three raging group chats at once.

And you? I don’t have to tell you how it feels like when Baekhyun stumbles over to squarely plant his cutesy baby face into your back. Firmly wrapping his hands around your waist on top of that not to fall over entirely. That feeling is locked into your muscle memory. And now, seeing him stripped down for the fourth time already? Goodbye to your sleep.

Special thanks to a jittery Mark for making this first hug I mean collision out of nowhere happen. Just to be sure: Mark really didn’t spill his coffee on purpose, nor did Baekhyun want to bump into you this hard. And we know Mark’s reflexes are usually fast enough to save the day. But he was about to host his first variety show all by himself, so you can imagine how shaky and distracted he was. And nobody will resent him — this is only all about you and Baekhyun… being the most repressed motherfuckers.

Baekhyun constantly almost-crashing into you somewhere or basically crawling on the ground before you makes for a second very shaky guy. What the hell is pulling him towards you wherever he goes? It’s even worse than Minseok moving one inch and accidentally smacking Baekhyun in the face.

It just goes on and on.

Following the second cafeteria embarrassment, the next Friday after lunch, you run into each other at the ground floor elevator exit so you would drop your fries. Yeah, extra crispy ones, with the best mayonnaise. Baekyhun has been feeling so guilty about his curse at this point that he orders extra fries for you at the cafeteria two times a week with his card. Which makes Chanyeol know dear Eros struck particularly hard. Because if he didn’t care, Baekhyun would pay it five times a week like he does for NCT every now and then. But if he does it only two times, something is at stake. He doesn’t want it to be apparent.

Baekhyun can’t even look you in the eye when he puts them on your tray. Instead, he quickly bows three times in a row and then disappears. This guy is a small puddle of blush.

Lee Soo Man cites him into his room to say what’s wrong soon, but all Baekhyun can blurt out is that he didn’t sleep well and the comeback song won’t get into his head. Which is not a direct lie, so.

Whatever you do, Baekhyun appears out of the blue and falls to your feet. Only two days later, he returns from shooting an MV and slips right in front of your office. Pretty much because his feet stumble over his own pants. You put the paperwork aside and check what the hell is going on outside. A dizzy Baekhyun straight-up hit his head at your door. He declines you helping him up because he knows that your touch is probably gonna make him fully insane. He walks around with a forehead patch during the comeback stage and people online think it’s the latest trend.

Somebody save this man.

The universe just keeps on arranging the silliest things to make shit happen, huh.

At this point, Baekhyun developing a full-blown apprentice crush is as obvious as Lucas being tall.

Now, the reality is. This man is Hitch, the Date Doctor. He notoriously handles crowds, can get along with anyone he’s put together with on camera, helps the other members to juggle their love life whenever they have a problem. Chen is probably a married man because of Baekhyun in one way or another. He isn’t really shy normally in his own words. But when it comes to his own crushes — classic case of everybody’s cupid who gives good advice they would need the most.

That Baekhyun is helpless with anything that digs beneath the surface of his usual interactions will show to you very soon. There’s tough Baekhyun, there’s cute Baekhyun, and then there’s an utterly speechless little bean who has an internal meltdown when you do as much as take the stairs together. The difference is staggering. He’s fidgety, tense, makes himself even smaller and first and foremost: Is impressionable to an extreme.

In short: Baekhyun has fully converted into a fake maknae.

It’ll show in staff meeting conversations on trivial things about the schedule that he wing-mans everybody but himself when shit hits the fan. He stutters in your presence. Baek’s a mess. Chanyeol takes Baekhyun to the side and raises his brows at him at least five times a day, as in wanting to say: „Are you ever going to do something about it?“

Baekhyun dodges the answer each time and preoccupies himself with social media. Fans will later say that he hasn’t uploaded as many Twitter replies, Youtube videos, and Instagram snapshots in his whole career. And Baekhyun is already quite active online so you can tell how much he’s spamming.

Secretly… hoping you see his online activity. Which you do.

You’ve memorized his five latest vlogs down to the cute little sound noises he’s making. Still, you hide behind the cupboard, and he is hiding behind an unsuspecting Johnny. Because Sehun is already grumbling about becoming a human shield, and Chanyeol would tease Baekhyun to the hell and back whenever you’re around.

Why does all of that happen? Why is he trying to escape?

The answer is, Baekhyun feels an overpowering respect towards you. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, it’s something you exude. To the point where he isn’t able to clown you the way he does with others. It’s literally that bad.

On top of that, Baekhyun is frustrated that whatever extroversion he can switch on during broadcasts, fan meets, and with the other members is suddenly failing him. He tries hard to fall back to his usual humor, but you being around makes him act much more erratic. And, surprisingly reserved, believe it or not.

Eye contact will make him break whatever character he’s trying to tune into for the sake of keeping it together. The exact opposite will happen. All the blushing and boiling hot sweat gives him away. Your own heated af face he doesn’t even notice.

In his mind, he’s going through any possible way of mannerisms to get your attention all while not embarrassing himself. He gives confident SuperM leader Baekhyun a shot, comedian Baekhyun, too, and he will don a pokerfaced version of himself as a last option whenever you are close.

All unsuccessfully. He can’t keep the façade for long; he knows he’s acting strange and inconsistent that way. Do you even realize what you merely sitting in the same practice room is doing to this guy?

As you can tell…

It’s up to you to hit on him. Finding an unmistakable balance between being breathtakingly forward and overly subtle. The right way to ask him out is somewhere in between. The way you gauge it, Baekhyun is turned off by all kinds of brazen approaches, but doesn’t want to be nudged with satin gloves and feathers either.

However, you end up playing too lowkey at first try because you’re just as nervous. You think, maybe it’s good to find out how interested in me he will admit he is. Which, given how much he tries to conceal his feelings, turns out to be a difficult idea.

And — Isn’t is crystal clear he likes you a whole lot by the way he tries to retreat from everyone but you? Recently, fleeing to stand behind Lucas. Who has the most hiding surface and won’t question what Baekhyun is doing there all the time, unlike Johnny.

So, how do you learn that your plan is a bad idea? You try to involve yourself in NCT’s Friday night truth-or-dare where Baekhyun always joins to mess with everyone.

But that weekend, he interestingly excuses himself to „practice English, it’s urgent!“. Off he goes as soon as he sees that you are part of the lineup, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

So, that mission failed. You get Taeyong, Haechan, and Yuta twerking against you at the same time while wearing sailor moon outfits as a dare instead.

However: You still learned something from this. The way that even Haechan’s wild gyrating and arguably great ass did not have a single effect on you tells you that you really want someone else really damn bad. Hell, if Yuta Nakamoto winds against you and you feel nothing—

And, something else has become apparent to you.

Professional he is, Baekhyun establishes rapport even with people he dislikes or feels neutral about, but when his more vulnerable feelings are in the game, he runs from them.

Beside Chanyeol and BoA, you’re smart enough to begin seeing what clockwork ticks inside of him. When Baekhyun doesn’t try to get close to someone that’s around him so frequently, something is mighty wrong and his opinion about that someone must be an intense one. And it’s not because he hates that person, the opposite is the case.

He’s almost less afraid of you than his worries of ruining it.

But through what, you’re wondering, seriously.

On the other hand, you get why Baekhyun keeps a viable distance. He knows it’s difficult to be associated with him in the way he wishes you were. Since people were looking at him and you so strange in the cafeteria, he even stopped practicing in the after hours.

Two weeks later, he even quits buying you fries for lunch and eats in the recording studio instead. Chanyeol remains correct: Much is at stake.

After the truth-or-dare fail, you sit down in sobriety and go through your options. You get all sorts of grand ideas to reveal your feelings, but dismiss the majority of it. You have to start small, really small. This needs the utmost care. Especially because you don’t want to compromise him by accident any further, nor are you anywhere near as ballsy as you believe someone hitting on Byun Baekhyun needs to be.

Truth be told: BoA would kick your ass for thinking that. And letting so many opportunities pass, as if you aren’t beating yourself up for it enough. Idol mode Baekhyun, well, he would be hard to approach indeed. But what is currently going on… he’s literally showing you his underbelly. He’s begging you to do something.

That he avoids even the lightest touch: More than telling to BoA’s knowing eye. He would be so easy to sway with just one sentence. She knows that at this point, Baekhyun is desperate. His yes would come so fast. You’re far from having faith in this. But you still try. You want this man.

Eventually, you rack your brain for anything understated you could do.

Then, you get the idea.

After a schedule briefing, Baekhyun recently said he dearly wishes he could eat fried noodles in the early evening because he’s craving something savory, meanwhile flashing a split-second glance at you. Maybe… You can discreetly bridge the gap by getting him food.

You’re part responsible for doing things like that in the company already so nobody will question you driving around with your little motorbike.

If you think about it: That’s a good excuse to approach him frequently and visit his apartment. The move is calculated, but it’s what the situation requires. You can’t tell how Baekhyun will react, but if he looked at you this way, it’s worth a shot.

And so, you dare the impossible. You show up with a deliberately small portion of noodles after the last comeback stage, knock twice. He does open. You’re frozen up.

Uttering a hopefully neutral „You said you wanted this. I’ll also bring it tomorrow if you want,“ and then drive off again without even waiting for a reply from a very surprised-looking Baekhyun in PJs.

Sweating like crazy, thank God your helmet and the upcoming dark of the night was hiding your red cheeks. Shit man, that was robotic as fuck! is what you’re thinking for the entire ride home. Another fail, you sure won’t return tomorrow. Now you can’t look him in the eye, either.

Meanwhile:

The meal not only saves the day of Baekhyun’s usually very lackluster diet mood that comes out when he is by himself. It also makes him flustered and grateful, curling up on his couch. He couldn’t even remotely try to say no out of politeness or concerns for his food plan. Baekhyun breaks the chopsticks right away after closing the door. Today, his dog’s with him. Mongryong excitedly jumps up and down next to Baekhyun. Your visit was short and sweet, but it made two beans very happy.

In fact, he rips open the box and shoves a quarter of the content into his mouth in the blink of an eye. It’s not just how hungry he is. He’s also overwhelmed that you came to his house. He feels like it’d be the highest level of disrespect to throw it away to begin with, no matter how spartan his eating habits are supposed to be.

He almost views this little take-out box as a part of you. He imagines how you listened to him talk, decided to drop by, bought it with your own money, and carried it all the way to him. All that extra effort and attention he spins back and forth in his head for the whole next week.

And, on the spot, Baekhyun is so taken aback that he starts deep cleaning his apartment at midnight as soon as he finishes his noodles.

To your own initial shock, he also drops an envelope with money under your office door the next day. And you thought someone was sending threats.

You get the underlying message, though. This is something just between the two of you, and the envelope is a yes. For another meal. Actually, more than that. There are 30 sorted bills in it, each to buy one box since he knows where you get the food from and what the standard price is.

Payment for one month in advance. Meetings for one month in advance. This fucker.

And you thought your sweaty scene at his apartment left him confused or weirded out. Nope, he decided he wants this times thirty. Something you have to let sink in.

The next day you drive along at the same time, there’s nobody there.

Because Baekhyun has left the door open. Now you can’t just speed away again. Nor do you really want to, for God’s sake.

After putting your helmet down in the small entrance room, you find an anxiously waiting Baekhyun on the extremely cleaned up living room couch, sitting there with fidgeting feet like it’s a porn casting.

The tension could kill. You put the box on the table before him like it’s England’s Crown Jewels. You want to calm him down so desperately, but don’t know how.

Given his sparkly eyes set on the food, that he wants to devour what you brought him right away is not hard to overlook. But he still seems hesitant. Insecure. Baekhyun doesn’t manage to say a full word which is the most surreal thing. You work up your voice and pass him the chopsticks in their paper packaging. „Pig out. You didn’t eat since 7AM.“

Again, he breaks the chopsticks. Trying hard not to do it too fast.

You sit opposite to him and revert back to professional mode. Talking about statistics from the comeback that Baekhyun hummingly acknowledges the way he does when you talk to EXO in meetings.

He stuffs himself like his life depends on it. No stable eye contact from him.

Both of you know that it’s not what you want to say. But even ten minutes in: Nothing about the cafeteria, the fries, the envelope, the topless incident, the forehead patch, nothing. Just you going on about details from work and him listening, nodding, chewing, making brief little remarks and using all his standard corporate phrases. „Ah, yes, EXO surely benefits from that.“ But it’s a start. You begin small.

So far, so good. With every evening, the conversation becomes more and more two-sided and the meals bigger. A second envelope soon enters your office, covering the extra costs for the XXL boxes, your fuel, and another month worth of meals. Note: Only one and a half weeks in.

Fuck, you got yourself into something big. Is it because his dog likes you?

You are starting to like babying him like that, even if you both keep it serious. Unusually so, but at least you don’t get into any more accidents with that suspense off your either shoulders.

It’s not like that cute little face would leave you any chance in the first place. Baekhyun smiles shyly around you. His big laugh is sweeping, but the small things… lethal. Absolutely lethal.

His manager doesn’t like it, but his genius idol’s mochi factor is increasing since you bring him spicy, richer foods. Baekhyun declines most snacks he’s offered at work, hardly eats up at the cafeteria and gives it to Foodcas Xuxi instead, and even the stylists wished he would gain more weight without any results in their convincing acts. But when you bring him a large portion of extra al dente spaghetti or — as of recently — self-made black bean noodles, Baekhyun would consider it rude not to follow the call of the carbs.

Interesting.

He eats even more aggressively when he knows you made the food yourself.

Quickly enough, he pays either for take-out or ingredients meant for not one, but two people. You usually eat a little earlier than he does, but you would not trade the best luxury meal in the world eaten by yourself with being together in Baekhyun’s flat. To the average Joe, this would be the biggest hassle, but to you… there’s no way you can get enough of being around him so privately. You enjoy taking the time to buy food for him. Taking the time in general.

You’re not the only one.

I don’t have to tell you how Baekhyun has to fight getting a vicious hard-on with sitting opposite to you with your motorcycling jacket peeled down to the hip, right inside a staring-not staring-staring-not staring match while you both slurp on your noodle soup pretending to be apprentice and idol.

It’s… bizarre. And hot. And bizarre. And frustrating.

You both don’t know where to take all of this. You end up making it a rock-solid daily routine, but not going any further than that because you are afraid. The excuse: Never change a running system.

In the meantime, Baekhyun works out even more. Not to compensate for the calories or to get rid of the increasingly chubby cheeks. Nope, it’s to impress you and show his fitness, plain and simple. At times, the music once again blasts in the practice room after everyone left. You come in to clear the room with Baekhyun in one of his very tight tank tops.

You greet each other softly smiling. The familiarity really does begin to show. While you sort and organize, he writes you a little note on what to get for food tonight. He scribbles a little „:3“ emoji underneath.

You think about that for at least two hours before you drive to his apartment.

So, yeah. Something is going on with him regardless of both of you trying to keep your routine stable and CIA-level secret.

He finds himself cringeworthy when he carries seven stacked up chairs to a group meeting at once just because you’re attending. But something in him can’t help it, for the love of God. At least in this regard, he thinks, something is running on autopilot in terms of flirting methods. Meaning, he really does hide less and less.

Meanwhile, Lucas’ eyes are falling out because Baekhyun is mustering new levels of strength nobody suspected he had. In the most random situations, even. Baekhyun’s fitness trainer is also living one hell of a life because his protégée is so eager these days. Mastering everything from weights to pilates. Hormones are one hell of a drug.

Kai frequently remarks that Baekhyun is different. „He’s nagging much less, what’s going on, why, why!“ he says to Taemin on the regular, and they invent all kinds of theories.

Since Baekhyun doesn’t want to miss out on your daily evening visit nor spend 8 hours in the gym, that means: He increases the intensity of the work-outs. For two and a half weeks, he is completely knocked out afterwards.

And so… it happens.

Baekhyun falls asleep before your visit. The door he has opened beforehand as always, but you enter a dim room with dozing Baekhyun splayed on the bed in his red carpet outfit from earlier that day. He worked out in the morning, did some hosting, talked his soul out in an interview, attended an award show, drove home, and eventually collapsed in the sheets. Lights out.

You put the rice box and cake slice you brought along on his desk. He looks so cute when he dozes, but you also hate disturbing his sleepy angel hours. Especially because you know how worn-out his schedule has left him and you feel sorry for it.

You feel weird for standing there with your take-out and want to hurry outside as fast as possible, but leave a note.

For the first time in weeks, you eat dinner in your own flat.

After forcefully waking up at 3AM due to his usual sleep cycle being off balance, Baekhyun falls into a spiral of regrets. Once it dawns on him what time it is and he must have missed your visit, he buries his face in his palms sitting at the edge of the bed.

He resents himself for neither cleaning up his bedroom properly nor staying awake even more so, no matter how eventful his day was. He imagines how you must have seen him sleep, probably in the most humiliating, unflattering position and with terrible hair, judging him for being rude, forgetful, unattractive, messy, and probably a thousand other things.

Until… he finds the note. That one gives him a second almost-heart attack, but an adrenaline-fueled one this time. He stumbles back onto his bed and reads it twenty times over.

„Rest well and dig in. Don’t worry. Text if you’re okay. 03304 68010113.“

After three typos in your number, almost choking on cold rice because he eats so passionately, and several minutes of going back and forth on sending something, he kicks his own ass and writes a little „I’m ok, I’m very very sorry! I’m an idiot 😭“. After you reply that he has no reason to apologize, he rambles on about how he wishes that he’s not being an inconvenience to you with a whole row of sad and dejected emojis.

You hate that Baekhyun feels put on the spot and obliged because of you this way and try to think hard about how to solve the dilemma. You won’t try to stop the rain of his apologies by telling him to calm down because you know it’ll make it worse, and instead decide it’s time to get going.

The opportunity is now, and there’s only one.

‚So, I have an idea—“

Going to the groovy little underground pizza restaurant downtown is something that Baekhyun immediately accepts as a suggestion. He wants to compensate for his dozing, but he also knows that this is a whopping chance more than anything.

And… a covert first date.

He knows that’s what it is. It’s about leveling up now.

Before you can write that you’ll treat him and he can relax, he gets firm with insisting that you will pay not a single dime. You know that it’s not just his overworking conscience speaking. It’s also the only way Baekhyun gets an occasion to express that he takes this very seriously via text.

That he wants to repay you and aims to get the most out of meeting up is something you realize when he steps out of the wardrobe room the next evening after everyone in the company has gone home.

The stylists he has told that he needs to try this particular outfit on for some time to get used to it. „I need to dance in this, so.“

Actually, it is meant for EXO performing at the Oscars next week, but he got away with the excuse and a promise to take care.

And… he really did the rest of the styling all by himself. He’s turned into a glamorous neat freak. Every shiny hair glued into its desired place, freshly dyed honey blonde with soft brunette roots.

In fact, who walks at you is a wholly different Baekhyun in a dark, reddish-violet satin suit, pointy black shoes, matte black tie, mature sultry eye shadow, black square sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his signature lipstick, with a distinct statement tote bag, and black lace socks. I repeat: Lace. This is the fanciest anybody has ever headed to eat $6.50 pizza at a tube station. I mean wow, just wow. The tailored shoulders and how tight the tux cinches in at the waist is on par with Kai’s Obsession crop top.

Even the much more expensive award show outfit from last week looks like a potato sack compared to how much he dolled himself up and reinvented literally every inch about himself. Like you have to prevent yourself from drooling.

Yep. He. Means. Business.

Funnily enough, Baekhyun realizes his zeal and just how much he is trying to impress you at all costs when you turn up with your standard khaki trench coat, bunny print umbrella, and casual white sneakers that have seen World War 1 and 2. You know, just the way you always come to his apartment and the way it’s inconspicuous.

Going by his face… he starts to overthink his esteem. You can see how his expression becomes mortified. You promptly decide to put an end to his self-conscious back and forth through taking him by the hand.

„You’re the best-looking man in the world and I’m asking you for a date. Are you comin’ or are you not?“

You then make it particularly clear to him that if anything, this right in front of you is very much authentic Baekhyun and not someone else you’re in for after all. And, that you’re both in your genuine form tonight the way it’s gotta be, the way you know each other and the reason why you decided to do this. Boom.

Four-step Greek style sermon for tonight: Delivered.

Now he’s gaping at you too much to beat himself up. That mission is very much accomplished. Modern problems apparently require ancient rhetoric. You’re in a kick-ass mood tonight. I dunno, anybody would be, Baekhyun’s accentuated sense of style has the historic potential to make girls reckless.

Baekhyun’s hand is heated like an Icelandic geyser and his heartbeat rate would make the average rabbit look like an amateur. Believe it or not — it’s the first time you’re deliberately touching. It’s ridiculous.

You head to the company garage, he churns out five jokes in a row on how he must look like a Korean Elton John on the way to his best-of concert, you laugh… Baekhyun feels better. Three times as nervous compared to when you usually come to his flat, but better nevertheless. And he drives, so.

He feels like he’s catching up and giving something back, no matter that you feel he doesn’t have to, but to him, it’s important.

You joke back to him how it’s a little bit funny — Elton John pun intended — that you saw every inch of Baekhyun’s apartment at this point already but this is the first date. The world is upside down, but it’s SM Entertainment, so. Things get started in different ways, but they do.

That realization is getting to him, too. Baekhyun’s peacock alter ego emerges to bolt over the motorway like a lovedrunk Lewis Hamilton with a foot glued to the gas pedal, but also checks fifty times for how you feel in the passenger seat. Asking about how you like it, if the A/C is set to how you want it, whether your seat is tilted the way you enjoy it. Damn, he really is on edge.

On top of that, said alter ego maneuvers him right into a 3-kilometer outer ring traffic jam before his innocent self even realizes it. More time to chat… more time to sit so close… more time you get to savor the comfort of his luxurious car. So that was a Freudian slip with a steering wheel right there.

You already know that Baekhyun has never tried as hard to make somebody like him. You compliment his taste in cars vice versa to take that pressure off before he turns into a nervous wreck entirely. And then, also adding that you could get used to this which makes Baekhyun feel like a billion Won. His eyes are downcast, his cheeks are beaming. Figures, light superpowers and such, we know the deal.

Meanwhile, that you really like him already and for a long time is something you challenge yourself to make more than apparent to him. If he’s still this desperate about pleasing you and unsure about how he comes across, there’s some work to do. This guy needs a sign. A football field-sized one. If Baekhyun’s demon is his self-worth tonight, yours is being a lot more demonstrative. You’ve been far too indirect with him all day every day.

That you’re outside of both your professional spheres actually helps: Big fucking time.

Easing him into a conversation happens surprisingly smooth when you recount visiting his apartment and seeing him sleep so beautifully. Which you say was the most gratifying thing which is the truth. It’s been on his mind, hearing about your relief makes a lot of things plague him less.

You also add how you enjoy bringing him food just because. That he’s nice and good company, even when he sleeps. That assures Baekhyun and makes him laugh.

And yes. He ends up serenading you throughout the entire traffic jam. And yes. When Baekhyun is in love, his singing is particularly on point. You can hear the cherry on top in his registers. No need for the stereo, you can ask him to sing any song you like.

The traffic jam disperses after 20 minutes, Baekhyun has interpreted your entire favorite playlist at this point. Arriving feels like way too soon.

You put your trench coat over Baekhyun while he exits the car. There’s hardly anyone around in this part of the town but who knows, making sure not to mess up his hair in the process. Both of you hurry to the stairs leading underground. Meanwhile, the car is parked quite stealthily behind a closed-down fish restaurant with dusty windows.

It feels good to walk around with Baekhyun right by your side.

The surroundings are cluttered with trash and only few people wait at the tube station that opens up before you with every step downwards. It’s actually perfect as a getaway. There are mostly older businessmen on shift at first glance.

It’s colder out in the open and surrounded by surfaces of concrete, the car was like a spa by comparison. Baekhyun takes the initiative to put the trench coat back onto your shoulders. You feel flattered and you smile at each other, and walk on with synchronized steps. The pizza bar is almost within sight. In the meantime, the digital board announces the tube arriving in five minutes. He takes your hand.

And then… some real bullshit goes down.

A group of seven scraggly-looking teens lounge on a bench, roughly 200 meters before the pizza bistro. You have to pass the bench close-by given how narrow the walking space next to the train tracks is.

One of them, the tallest of the bunch, coarsely shouts at you. „How much did that prostitute cost and where does he keep his money, huh?“ He sticks his wriggling tongue out right along. The others are ogling Baekhyun’s shoes and chest pockets, preying and laughing and sneering. It dawns on you that you should’ve asked for one more song in the car.

The mood tips. One of the boys sitting on the left side of the bench starts fiddling with a 3-inch switchblade. And then, something flicks the switch inside you, too. Your Kyoong-protect-o-meter goes through the roof faster than Baekhyun can get his car to the speed limit.

Cue She-Hulk transformation. In an onslaught of your inner wrestling diva claiming her rights, you take matters into your own hands by hurling Baekhyun’s glitzy designer bag at the guy’s surprised face. Sorry Versace, it had to be done. The whole group gasps out loud. While they’re still caught off guard, you go on to lunge forward and furiously whack greasy knife guy and two other approaching attackers with your Roger fucking Rabbit umbrella using a windmill-motion martial arts technique you came up with from scratch. Baekhyun doesn’t even have to duck… being smol has its advantages.

The switchblade is sent flying into a bin. Point landing. You proceed to rip into the group to helicopter your improvised weapon in circles until it threatens to plow down the better of them and they back away squealing and pleading. Britney would be so damn proud of you, I’m telling ya.

Needless to say, the mortally terrified group runs and disperses into the arriving tube, probably booking their therapist appointments for Monday morning already. You pick up the bag for Baekhyun a little breathless, dust it off, and say a prayer. Holy shit.

What the hell just happened. Literally, what the fucking fuck.

An entirely wide-eyed Baekhyun still can’t believe that a whole group of sleazy guys twice as tall as him took an unhinged windmill beating by you to prevent a robbery, and meanwhile he is the martial arts champion. Like, hello? He’s been a Hapkido instructor with several gold medals. How many black belts does the guy have again? He could mow down fifty of that kind and pulverize anyone of them with a mere NCT-style kick. This is ridiculous. He’s mighty impressed.

A few businessmen at the station are looking at you from afar with open mouths. You wave and give a thumbs up signalling all is okay. The security personnel reviewing the CCTV the next day is down for a ride. You hope that there are no headlines with pictures of this. Tube brats get their ass busted by cartoon bunny at 2:15 AM. K-Pop star Baekhyun defended by mysterious umbrella wielder gone wild.

You take a deep breath, brush off your coat. „Um. Moving on I guess.“ Then, interlink arms with Baekhyun, strolling on toward the restaurant. Looking around everywhere, still a little shocked. Walking off your relief helps, as is looking forward to eating. Damn, you do outrageous things when you’re hungry.

The restaurant is the size of the practice room at best, lit with white neon and decorated with Italian flags in every corner. The empty seats are designed like in an American diner from the 80s.

The lanky six-foot-something waiter, Luigi Roberto Maranello Salvatore (his nameplate is really in-depth about this), hurries to the door when he sees how Baekhyun is dressed and probably thinks the King of Korea just arrived. Which he, in fact, did, but that’s beside the point.

You sit at the very back and get comfortable after breaking your last sweat. An enthusiastic Luigi presents to you the latest ‚delicious couple menu options’ and promises to use the best toppings he can offer. You instantly trust him, Luigi has the most accurate mustache you’ve ever seen.

Baekhyun and you share a huge plate of the curiously named ‚Pizza Puppy Love‘ that might be better described as a circle-shaped late night gala buffet. You dig in because damn, fighting thugs makes hungry, and Baekhyun stuffs himself given how it’s his favorite meal. Luigi sees that you are avid eaters and way too busy looking at each other, so he disappears in the kitchen, proud of setting the mood just perfectly.

In the meantime, Baekhyun says that he thinks of hiring you as a sasaeng protection machine. You muse how the umbrella is sturdier than you thought and you wouldn’t hesitate to use it again now that you think about it. Being Baekhyun’s Jarvis is not a bad thought, actually. Beating up rascals for him is your newly discovered love language.

In fact: Whatever took over inside of you and made you lose your chill, Baekhyun is mighty curious about. He thinks that was very sexy. You get the feeling that this guy could like dangerous women. He might have picked that up from Taemin, credits to him.

After Baekhyun has dramatically recounted the umbrella incident at least five times, the conversation goes on about your embarrassing hiding stories, how hilariously over- and underdressed you are as a unit, and you teasing him about „speeding on the highway, are we“. Baekhyun teases you back about how you acted like his manager with your trench coat over his head. He kind of has a point and you call it a tie.

Seeing Baekhyun all full with his beloved pizza and acting so carefree in his Oscar suit is a cute sight. You take the liberty to cut a particularly large slice out of the puppy pizza UFO and feed him.

If it’s a couple menu, you gotta act like it.

Baekhyun is making some mighty heart eyes at you, and so — you decide to take it a little further. This whole fight thing made you forget you’re on a goddamn date after… a whole year of eyefucking and that it’s about time to close the gap.

Luigi is wholly busy making order in the kitchen and Baekhyun has some tomato sauce stuck at the side of his mouth. Convenient. You take the chance to wipe it off with the tip of your right digit.

He realizes what you’re doing and promptly grabs your hand to keep it right where it is. Uh-oh. His tongue darts out, he licks right across your finger. To top it off, he starts to suck it, too. With a typical nonchalance. Seeing how you almost combust, he takes another finger into his hot mouth. And sucks a little more. His lipstick smudges onto your hand. His eyes are like hot coals and the pupils are all blown. Oh my, my, my.

If you’re just playing, don’t you ever give Baekhyun anything to escalate on like that, ever. The way you were ready to knock down the seven guys, he is ready to get physical once the first step is done. Though, the thing is. You’re not playing. It’s exactly the type of fodder that you’ve been craving to give him. Baekhyun’s oral fixation is something else.

The rest of the pizza is gone in five minutes…

…and Luigi gets the tip of his life.

You walk to the car in much faster steps than before. Even if it’s later than late, nobody is around anymore except a sleeping beggar on the other side of the station. No danger in sight whatsoever. There’s a different reason to get going like that this time and there’s no way you can mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming.

Back to the fish restaurant, back to the car spa. Nobody on the streets, anywhere. This night, Baekhyun does not feel even remotely tired, though.

After you put your umbrella in the trunk — you will honor it much more from now on — the driver’s and passenger’s seat stay empty for half an hour and a little more. Now, the actual stereo is on. There’s a lot to catch up with on the backseat.

Baekhyun puts Delight on repeat, and queues City Lights just because. Guy knows what good music and singing sounds like. You interlock hands and call him pretty. Baekhyun is flustered, but all the more eager.

It takes barely a minute until you get serious with making out on top of him and grind on his lap like the world ends. The satiny fabric is too tempting not to gyrate all over it in your jeans. Lord knows his legs are great. You know what you signed up for. Those thighs are so delicious to straddle, you can’t even imagine.

Baekhyun gazes at you so intently and ready, whispering his little you-can-do-anythings and tell-me-all-you-wants, it’s like magic.

To top it off, kissing his little pouty lips has got to be the best thing, running your hands through his sexy hair — even more so. Your mouth and fingers have been begging you to do this. Begging.

From there, your hands go places. His neatly razored nape of the neck, his waist, the chest. His suit, all that expensive fabric, his gentle skin, it’s so nice to the touch. He smells so hot. Bergamot, cinnamon, and sweet, deep, rich and soothing sandalwood. „Girl, I’m your Candy“ gets a whole new meaning. Practice room memories. As if you aren’t wet enough already.

By the last minute of the second track, Baekhyun is already hooked kissing your neck and does some very daring acrobatics with his tongue. And you thought the pizza would satiate him. Nope, he eats you up like a whole salad bowl of black bean noodles with three pounds kimchi and ten fried eggs stacked on top. In his own words I mean lyrics: Game over.

The desperation and nervosity adds even more sloppiness and hunger. These have got to be the lewdest slurping and sucking noises you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but curse the ugliest things. Something’s pretty damn hard through the front of his tux already.

Baekhyun feels that you feel it and the kissing becomes even more frantic. His whole body says: Grind more. Please. Please.

By the time the fourth track starts, Baekhyun’s entirely wet mouth wanders upward. Here goes the French kissing madness. You glide your hips back and forth on his bulge, and his tongue is already winding inside of you like it’s advanced singing lessons. It’s so unreal that you have to grab hold of his upper arms to stay in place. Shit, this guy.

You can tell that this… is his absolute forte. Nobody can fuck with Baekhyun when it comes to outrageous mouth and throat technique. Your tongue gets a sense of how confident he is in his lip service and works his way into it. Now you know how it feels when Byun Baekhyun pays back your attention. Holy Luigi’s Cannoli, he has so much fun. Way, way too much fun. Like Sir, this is a Wendy’s.

And that’s the last damn straw. Really, the last one. You can’t do this shit anymore. You ask for condoms.

After freezing up for at least ten seconds, he nods his little head about ten times in a row. It’s as if he can’t actually believe it and didn’t just kiss the shit out of you with the hardest dick in history.

„Okay, I’ll—“

Baekhyun keeps them in a yellow puppy-shaped bag under the driver’s seat and takes three torturous minutes to get them from there since it’s underneath and behind other random things. Which means you get to look at his ass for said time because he is bent forward between the two front seats. It’s not like you’ve never seen Baekhyun from behind, but never this close nor in a suit as tight since he usually wears baggy things. So. He’s not just big in the front, then. For his build? That is Korea’s ass.

And the condoms? You expected they were in his tote or his suit within one reach and rip. Nope, Baekhyun did not leave the company building with intentions. He’s been managing this raging boner for a whole year and did not make any moves on you in his apartment where he could have had you on any available surface in two minutes. Baekhyun wasn’t close to even remotely ask for literally anything. He just sat there on the couch with restless legs, ruffled hair, and an open mouth while hearing you talk. You don’t want to imagine how intensely he must have gotten off. Which he, in fact, did.

He didn’t deliberately plan sex in a specific place for the first date either. Instead, he was prepared for— what exactly? A slight eventuality? Now that you think about it: Going by how he dressed himself, what Baekhyun probably thought he could get out of this was: A compliment. Even if all of your evening visits were nothing but hardcore sexual tension and this was the chance to bring that to an end. Let that sink in.

This guy’s self-control is not only astronomical, but also completely astounding given his usual character. In fact, you thought he would be entirely sovereign with this. How could he not? He’s Baekhyun!

Going by all that… You conclude that Baekhyun must really feel like he does not deserve you. His shame and self-denial must go through the roof. Given how his deeper insecurities have been in plain sight, it actually makes sense. Looks like you’re the one bringing them out, whatever it is that you do. It’s pretty tough knowing that you rouse something as vulnerable in him but it’s as good as it is bad. You find him very brave and incredible for letting it show. Honestly? It’s better than pushing through all of this pretending.

Plus — You really must have given him the impression that he can look but not ever touch. While that’s the entire opposite of what you want.

To be fair: Having Baekhyun openly touch you in the company would have been a dangerous act. Even more so than say, you touching him, (which would have been somewhat possible, look at stylists and managers casually or work-relatedly doing skinship). Because that means that the availability his profession suggests to the world is no longer a thing and his mind is set on one person. Which, in his field, is social death.

That’s why Baekhyun could only ever touch you by virtue of circumstances and whatever higher forces arranging accidents where he bumped into you. Talk about indirect ways. The universe gave you what you wanted, but in a way where there was always the excuse of bad luck and no possibility of other people finding out about your feelings. Risky love breeds risky circumstances.

The same with showing his body or knocking at your door to get your attention. He knows he can’t do that, can’t ask for it. So what happens? You accidentally walk in on him, or he crashes against your office entrance after slipping.

The same with treating you, spending time together, getting taken care of by you. Baekhyun found himself wishing for it. So it happened that you spilled your fries and he bought them for you all over, and he was begging for fried noodles so the opportunity to meet surprisingly came about. The accidents themselves both of you didn’t want nor deliberately stage, but you very much wanted the results of them. Directly you could not express your feelings, not even Baekhyun. That’s how it all came to be and now you see just how much he wants to be close to you in so many ways.

That he feels ashamed and undeserving — that shocks the living hell out of you.

So, all right then, keeper. Time to show you otherwise.

It’s crazy how he thinks you’re the one off limits and not him. Then again, he’s not the guy with the savage umbrella technique.

Since his hand is too shaky, you slip one on him and start to ride him without any further ado. You’re already leaking so what’s left to fiddle around about. No wasting any time here.

The deal is as good as sealed. He feels fucking great inside of you and his wide eyes are the most rewarding thing. Whatever dimension Baekhyun just broke through, the level of whipped is not possible to be described with any human words. His hands are roaming over you pretty much without aim, you can tell your body is too much for him.

After he’s begging you to do it roughly, you grab him by the collar and fuck his soul out until he’s all gasping because his dick hurts. The song’s called Are You Ridin’ with good reason.

Baekhyun’s brains are long screwed out at this point, if not reduced to absolute green and purple jello. Is there actually any mind to lose at this point after you had your fingers in his mouth? Like literally, his favorite thing? Probably not.

He bites down into his sleeve. Baekhyun is all knocked out by you by the time you get to your second orgasm, and reclines on the backseat bench to starfish the rest of the thing with his mouth hanging open at you. Hormone overload. His entire body shut down except the will to keep it up and not come. Yum, he is fit. Where he takes that godly strength from, only higher powers can tell. The Tree of Life, Zeus, Ten Chittaphon, I don’t know.

He just has the kind of dick you can really bounce on. Really. Fucking. Hard. You are one spark of insanity close to run on autopilot. I don’t think anybody’s growled like this on him before. Nor was Baekhyun’s cock this close to falling right off, ever.

This is not sex, it’s a crazy as fuck pounding, with Baekhyun on the verge of being blacked out with drool on his chin and his eyes rolling back. His fingers are absentmindedly trailing down your upper back and all he can utter is a small, yearning „please, please“ and gritting „don’t stop, please don’t stop…“ between his teeth. And hell, you have not a single reason to. Cue Captain America, I can do this all day.

When other people say smashing, whatever they’re referring to is not as smash as this. This must be the dirtiest, wettest slapping noise you’ve ever heard, and Baekhyun’s entirely uncontrolled moans will be forever etched into your memory. So melodic, so goddamn excited and desperate and all fucked out. He’s groaning so well, it’s like it’s meant for you.

By the third time you come, he’s crying and whining and has to cover his mouth not to scream out loud. You have no idea what your body is doing, but whatever it is, it’s taking Baekhyun out. Even you tire after some time, but you keep going. You imagine that every thrust is the meal and attention you wanna give to him.

That’s a lot of fucking and edging you get done in half an hour. Baekhyun’s tongue is hanging out afterwards and you went through a whopping three condoms. So much frustration finally released. Baekhyun’s gonna be emptier than Suho’s wallet after Sehun ordered a lifetime supply of bubble tea.

You squarely avoid oozing your own cum onto his backseat with one hand. Good lord that creampie would ruin everything if he didn’t wear a condom. You’ve come a long way since colliding in the cafeteria, not gonna lie.

And thank God you’re not fucking somewhere in the company and the Audi is close to soundproof because this guy is LOUD. You need some good eardrums to handle these moans. Unhinged is an understatement. If this becomes a contest outwhoring each other, he’d win by a landslide.

By the time you slip off, Baekhyun is on the verge to the dreamland, you milked every last drop out of him. Which means…

…you get to drive an expensive as fuck Audi through Seoul. Your beatdown with the tube thugs you try to refrain from boasting about, but this one you are tempted to brag about to yourself for the next week. Well, in your mind. Just a little bit. It’s a great car. And you feel giddy in your body all over. That’s what sex with Baekhyun does to you.

Seoul traffic is tame around this time. Half in his sleep, Baekhyun hums and sings on the driver’s seat. He’s all sober, but you made the guy act a lil’ drunk, huh. In his element, he talks and talks and talks and talks a little more. Then, does his tiny 'ㅅ' pup face and dozes for half the ride. Sleeping angel hours.

You can’t really scold him for passing out so fast in the slightest. As always, he went who knows how many extra miles just for you. That includes vowing to hand-wash his Oscars suit because it’s fucking ruined. Since the stylists are guaranteed to flame him, you send the fashion department a message how Baekhyun has to wear a different suit because he’s simply too dummy thick for this one, especially as far as the pants are concerned. Which is almost no lie and they will believe you.

Much like his name suggests, Baekhyun does go hundred. At his apartment, you basically have to carry him into the bedroom. He says he doesn’t want to sleep. But you won’t kiss him goodnight after you pull off your jacket without a strong word on how his health has to be priority. He gets the point when you say you wouldn’t have had a first date without Baekhyun dozing off before your evening visit.

Sweet baby Jesus, you’d still be awkwardly slurping noodles without Baekhyun’s faux pas. If you look back at it: It’s all a story of accidents that turn out beautiful.

Sleep being Baekhyun’s reset button, that’s the best thing to do in order to give the night a good conclusion. Being alone in his apartment together, you don’t have to discreet about sleeping next to him after setting the alarm clock.

Mark Lee’s piping hot Americano is the culprit for all of this, but you thank him.

----

#exo smut #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun hc #baekhyun headcanon #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun #exo imagine #exo scenario #exo hc #baekhyun scenario #exo headcanon #baekhyun reaction #bbh #baekhyun angst #baekhyun crack

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megsironthrone · 4 years ago

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A Ball

Based on this request: Sandor being in love with Renly’s twin sister because she’s beautiful and really kind. Renly decides to throw a ball and Sandor figures that this would be the perfect time to ask her out?

Here you are, lovelies! As always, familiar characters are NOT mine!

Warnings: Fluff

Pairings/Characters: Sandor Clegane x fem!Baratheon reader

"Why?" Robert asked, narrowing his eyes at Renly. "Because we can, dear brother!" he replied with a smile. Robert wasn't impressed. "And because it's mine and Y/N's nameday." You rolled your eyes at Renly. He knew exactly how to convince Robert to do anything. Pull you into it. As the only Baratheon sister, you were beloved and protected by all your brothers. They even called you and Renly "twins" even though you were taken in by the late Lord Baratheon as a young child and not his natural daughter. You and Renly had the same nameday.

"Fine, but I want no part in it," Robert decreed. Renly didn't seem to care as he beamed and grabbed your hand, pulling you from the room. "Thank you, Robert," you called over your shoulder. People moved out of the way as you passed them, but you made a point to stop and smile at Sandor Clegane when he came into your line of sight.

You’d had a soft spot for the large man from the moment you'd met him. He was treated horribly by your nephew and not much better by your brother. You didn't think anyone should be subjected to that kind of treatment, so you always made sure to greet him with a friendly smile and talk to him whenever you had a chance. It had taken a while, but over time, he had eventually opened up to you, making your feelings for him change from those of friendship to something more. Little did you know, he felt the same way.

"What was Uncle so excited about, Father?" Joffrey asked as he approached the throne with Sandor at his heels, as always. "He's throwing a ball for his and your aunt's nameday celebration. A grand affair if he had anything to say about it. Everyone will be invited. That includes you, Clegane."

Sandor's brows furrowed. A ball? A ball he was actually invited to? Normally, Sandor didn't care much about those things, but this was a ball for you. You, with your kind eyes, gentle smile, and fierce personality. You, who made Sandor a flustered mess whenever you spoke to him. He hid it well, but he was enchanted by you. One moment, you were this sweet and proper young lady and the next, you were ready to jump right into the middle of scuffle to protect those you cared about.

It was safe to say that Sandor Clegane was a man in love. He would never admit it. No lady would ever want to be with him, no matter how kind and friendly she was. But that didn't keep Sandor from holding onto the tiny bit of hope you instilled in him when you sat and talked with him when no one else would or when you left small touches to his arms as you passed by him. Memories of those strengthened his resolve. He had never been a coward and he wasn't about to start now. He was going to ask to escort you to your ball.

Once Sandor had been relieved of his duties for the day, he found himself outside your chamber door. He knew he should have waited until the morning, when it would be more proper, but he didn't want to be around others if you rejected him. Raising a hand, he knocked quickly on the door, opening it when he heard your voice bidding him to enter.

"Oh, Sandor!" you exclaimed and Sandor was hopeful at the tone of your voice, "What can I do for you?" You stood from your chair and approached him slowly, as one would a frightened animal. Sandor looked into your (e/c) eyes and, before he could form the words properly, he barked out, "Go to the ball with me!"

You jumped a little, but cocked your head to the side. "Excuse me?" Sandor took a deep breath and tried again. "Allow me to escort you to the ball…please." You let a small smile form on your lips as Sandor continued, if only to try and save face. He didn't handle being embarrassed very well and he didn't want you to be on the wrong end of his temper. "As your guard for the evening," he finished and your smile fell.

"No." That was it. That one little word falling from your lips sounded so curt. So final. Sandor had been expecting it, but he hadn't been expecting it to hurt quite so much. "I want you at the ball, Sandor, but not as my guard. No. I will only accept your offer if you agree to escort me as my-" you paused for a moment to consider your next words before continuing on, "As my companion. Don't you know by now that you mean so much more to me than a sworn shield?"

Sandor was reeling now. You wanted his company? You wanted to be his friend. His companion. Even if that wasn't all Sandor hoped for from you, it was better than the rejection that he was waiting for. Before he could reply, however, you spoke again. "You mean more to me than even a friend," you said softly, avoiding his gaze now, "I think I love you, Sandor."

You let your eyes come back to his as you gave him a shaky smile. "It's alright. I don't expect you to say it. Nor do I expect your invitation to escort me to the ball still stands now that you know." You turned to walk away, but he caught your arm gently. "It still stands," he muttered and you gently reached up and gave his arm a squeeze. "Then, I accept."

On the night of the ball, you walked on Sandor's arm. Jaws dropped and tongues began wagging, as they often did. But Sandor couldn't have cared less. He had you with him. He loved you and you loved him and nothing anyone said or did was going to change that for him.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills

Sandor Clegane Tags: @songoficecreamandfireworks @silversprings98

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 10: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 10: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Content warnings: allusions to past suicidal thoughts, just bad mental health past in general, vague bullying, swimming pools, past isolation, minor injury (broken ribs), general anxiety and self deprecation.

Word count: 3.9k

I was very low on time, and very exhausted from work, so I tried something new! I first discovered the concept of ‘bullet fics’ from @illogicallyinclined ‘s hockey au, GO CHECK IT OUT!!! (It’s living in my head rent free for a couple months now)

Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman have been friends for as long as they can remember. The first three met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were just a couple years old, and since they all live on the same block, became each other’s go to play buddies. They all stuck together in their first years of school together, the unbreakable trio, and then they met Roman. Or, Roman was pulled into their clutches and was therefore part of the group now. Patton saw him getting bullied across the playground and ran in to help, and now Roman is ‘eternally in their debt’. But they like him, so his extravagance is okay.

They hung out constantly, all throughout middle and highschool, and they graduated together. It was a big moment for all of them; Patton, who almost got left a grade behind several times (his dyslexia went undiagnosed for several years and he was simply categorized as ‘dumb’), Virgil, who almost didn’t make it due to a mental health crisis, Logan, who was pressured heavily by his parents to move up a grade and had to fight tooth and nail to stay with his friends, and Roman, who’s bullying problems didn’t exactly lessen through the years, and was more than relieved to be leaving that behind.

That summer, they pledge (mostly by Roman’s pleading) to try and do something fun every day. While Logan says this is improbable and Virgil groans at the thought of spending every day socializing, Patton is excited for the idea and “it’s two against two so you have to at least try!”

“That logic doesn’t make sense-” “Shut it, teach, just let us have this.”

So far, they’ve gone to the amusement park just out of town, gone to the park too many times to count, visited their local arcade that they hadn’t even stepped foot into since middle school, and tie-dyed a variety of clothing items in Patton’s backyard. Today, Patton is forcing them all to go to the pool, despite Logan claiming that they’re “feces infested, germ nesting grounds” and Virgil’s argument that “he burns like an unwatched pot of milk, how can you expect this from me”, Patton’s little puppy eyes do them all in.

Unfortunately, just as they’re leaving for the pool, Roman gets a call. At first it’s civil, and then his voice raises, and then he’s hanging up and throwing his phone onto his seat from where he’s standing next to the open car door. Angrily, he tells his friends that his mom got called into work and his dad’s on a business trip, so they need to take his brother with them.

At first, this raises some confusion.

“I was not under the impression that you had a little brother.”

“How old is he? Either way, I say, the more the merrier!”

Virgil is not thrilled at the idea of babysitting, since kids generally don’t like him, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure.

Roman has to admit, with much embarrassment, that it’s actually his twin, who is just so chaotically irresponsible that he has lost Home Alone Privileges. He’s broken the TV, accidentally started fires, and lost their dog one too many times and his parents said no more.

So he drives all the way back to his house, the three friends crammed into the back seat of his two door sedan (because the seats are A Pain to raise and lower and it makes more sense to give said brother the front seat instead of rearranging when they get him), grumbling under his breath about his stupid brother, stupid work, stupid stupid stupid-

Virgil is apt to agree with him, because if being around his three closest friends is enough interaction to mentally exhaust him, adding a new person to the mess is so much worse. He’s generally unexcited to meet this new person… until they pull up to the driveway.

And holy heck.

This man is GORGEOUS.

It takes a second for him to realize it’s Roman’s brother, because despite his first assumption, the two are not identical. They’re very similar, obviously related, for sure, but they are surprisingly easy to tell apart, and it’s not just because of the silver streak in the brother’s hair.

Which he should not find as hot as he does.

After Roman insists said brother does need to go get a bathing suit and no you can not go swimming in your jeans, he jumps into the passenger seat and, with as much energy as Roman has at Full Potential, introduces himself as Remus to the backseat audience.

Patton and Logan both say small hello’s, but Virgil is just stuck.

Dear lord. Princey, why have you been hiding him from me?

When they get to the pool, Virgil makes a complete fool of himself getting out of the car. He trips on his seatbelt, landing directly in Remus’ arms, and looks up to see this devil man grinning at him with all the hubris of a greek god. Before he can say anything, Virgil pushes himself up and rolls his eyes (all while internally screaming) and walks away, joining Patton and Logan where they are just entering the main gate.

He can’t help it; when in proximity of cuteness, his emergency mode is “be a dick”.

But it only gets worse from there.

When Virgil has an umbrella properly set up above a chair so he can save his skin from the sun (“I burn like unwatched milk on a stove. I’m not going in.”) and is comfortably situated with his phone and iced coffee, Remus steps in front of him to take his shirt off.

He’s pretty sure Remus didn’t even mean to. It just… happened to be directly in his line of sight.

As soon as the shirt is above his head, Virgil chokes on his drink, squirting iced coffee out of his nose and going into a coughing fit. Patton rubs his back while Roman tries not to laugh (and fails miserably), all while Remus is just watching him. Confused. (Logan is in the change rooms, because he insists on not wearing his bathing suit unless he is actively about to swim)

There’s more than just the sun issue that prevents Virgil from swimming. While his friend’s soulmarks are relatively small (Roman has a little one on his neck, Logan and Patton have a shared one just above their ankles), Virgil’s is a huge splotch that covers his entire side, reaching from just above his top rib to where his waistband usually lies. It’s all squiggles and lumps; Virgil once compared it to a storm cloud, but the lightning streaks were tentacles. It’s all in all, just… A Mess. And he doesn’t really like it. No one he’s ever met has had a soulmark like that, and he hates standing out.

When Remus takes off his shirt, in all his muscled glory, Virgil can’t miss the matching soulmark that trails down Remus’ side. It’s his, no doubt about it, but… that can’t be right, can it? Remus is so… full of life, dangerous, the epitome of chaotic; he’s everything Virgil is not. More so, he’s terrified of what Remus must think of him. He’s nothing special, he’s just an anxious ball of angst. What if he’s disappointed in who the universe decided to stick him with?

After he’s done choking on iced coffee, and Logan is back from the change room, he realizes Remus is long gone, in the deep end of the pool trying to gather as many foam noodles as he can. They check that Virgil is alright, and when he merely gives them a shaky thumbs up, they take it at face value and dive in. Except Logan, who uses the steps like a mature adult, you children.

He lets the rest of his coffee sit in the sun, until the sun melts all the ice cubes and it’s lukewarm to touch and overall, just gross, because suddenly he has no appetite. Yeah, this guy is gorgeous and he’s hopelessly gay for him, but... soulmate? That’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less someone with forty seven different kinds of anxiety. /j

If Virgil was uneasy taking his shirt off before, he sure as hell isn’t doing it now. No matter how much Patton and Roman plead with him, he stays glued to his chair, eyes flickering from his friends playing Marco Polo to watching his soulmate Remus. He’s turned the pool noodles into a giant raft and is trying to balance on it, like an absolute idiot.

An extremely good looking idiot.

Virgil can’t help but notice that… he’s all alone. Roman, Patton, and Logan barely even throw him the occasional glance, much less invite him to hang out with them in the water. Worse than that, he seems relatively fine with it. It could just be that he doesn’t want to intrude on his brother’s friend group, but Remus doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have those boundaries. Which kind of insinuates that he’s used to being alone, and Virgil can’t help but empathize.

He notices it a lot, actually. The group meeting Remus also coincides with Roman and Virgil becoming more close; less of a frenemy relationship, and more of an actual friendship. Patton is delighted, because this means the three of them get to hang out at Roman’s huge place more often without their constant bickering (because when it got bad at one of their houses, Virgil’s was never more than a ten minute walk away when Roman finally pushed his last button. Here, they were all stuck.)

And every time they go over, he can’t help but notice the loud music coming from Remus’ room, or the man just sitting on the couch watching TV (which he tends to do shirtless, which does not help Virgil at all), or irritating Roman’s parrot. All in all, doing things alone. It strikes a chord in Virgil’s heart, which is something he’d never admit to another person.

Maybe that’s why, in the following week when Roman has the grand idea to go on a mountain hike, Virgil quietly asks if they could invite Remus. At first, Roman is adamant. “He’ll just ruin things, he doesn’t appreciate nature, he’s annoying!” But Patton claims “The more the merrier” and Logan doesn’t have any particular stance, so he begrudgingly invites Remus.

Who very excitedly accepts.

The trail Roman visited is quite a ways out of town, so they cram back into his tiny car and start the drive. Patton claimed shotgun, so him and Roman have derailed into an animated conversation about cartoons, while Logan just pops in his earbuds and leans his head against the window. For the longest time, Remus and Virgil sit in awkward silence, because neither of them could get a word in edgewise to the front seat conversation even if they tried, and they don’t… really… know what to say… to each other.

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence (shocker).

“Roman tells more you’re the one who wanted to invite me.”

“Yeah, well, you seemed lonely. And… I mean, you’re Roman’s brother. Can you really be that bad?”

He means it as a joke, but he sees the light in Remus’ eyes die slightly. The tone of his voice doesn’t falter though, remaining as joyful and quirky as always.

“I’m a lot more fun than Roman. People just don’t like to see it that way.”

“Setting your kitchen curtains on fire is fun?”

“If you were there, you’d understand!”

And they keep talking, maybe trailing into borderline flirting, for the whole ride. Virgil is surprised at the lack of tenseness in his shoulders, because though Remus is loud and a little unsettling, he is incredibly patient when Virgil has trouble forming his sentences and doesn’t interrupt him when he’s talking; an incredible help to someone with crippling anxiety. Underneath his exterior, he’s actually… incredibly soft? What?

By the time they pull up to the trail, Remus is actually starting to grow on Virgil. Since Patton and Roman are still so into their debate, and Logan seems content listening to his music (or podcast, but who really knows), they continue talking as the hike starts. The shorter boy can’t help but glance at the other every few seconds, seeing their soulmark just peeking past the edge of his baggy tank top. If Remus notices, he says nothing.

And he learns Remus was bullied a lot through school, just like Roman was, but instead of finding a group that supported him, he broke off as a lone wolf. He came off scary or maybe just a little bit crazy to anyone he tried to befriend, since his social skills were pretty lacking due to disuse and his incredible lack of filter, so he learned early that staying alone hurt less. And in that time, he just became more and more… Like That… because he literally never had peers to mature with.

The hike is a long one. Remus is pretty eager to spill his guts, probably since he was never able to before, so Virgil feels obligated to do the same. He tells Remus about his anxiety, about his mental health issues during school, about his home life and his hobbies, and the fact that there are more people around just fades into the background. It could as well be just them, and Virgil starts to wish it was.

So of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.

A mountain biker comes ripping down the path, too quick to even process, and Virgil is caught off guard. Of course, he’s not walking near the edge of the path, because he has some shred of common sense, but the bike speeding by him causes him to flinch and stumble to the side; an instinctual reaction. Except his instincts decided to not remember until the last second that he’s at the edge of the trail.

It’s almost like happening in slow motion, his foot goes over the edge, and he doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until his other foot is already off the ground, ready to take that next step back, and he’s falling. Luckily (as lucky as one can be in this situation), it’s not a straight drop, just a decently long, steep slope that’s essentially just a bunch of rocks and weeds.

He hears his friends scream his name, sees a hand fly out to catch him, and it just snags the edge of his jacket before he’s freefalling for a split moment. One heart stopping, never ending, eternal and all too short moment of weightlessness where he twists his body, hoping to try and brace himself, and then he meets the slope.

Hard.

His breath leaves him in a wheeze and he distinctly hears a loud snap. Through his pain addled brain, he tries to stop his slide further down by grabbing anything; rocks, roots, dirt. It’s useless.

He stops naturally, on a small ledge several meters from the top before the slope continues. For a moment, he can only lay there, trying to breathe through the intense pain flaring through him pretty much everywhere, not to mention the sheer levels of pure panic numbing his thoughts. He stares at the clouds, watching them as they float by, each breath spreading fire through his torso but at the same time strangely numb.

And then, “VIRGIL!”

His eyes shoot open (wait, when did he close them?) to see Remus’ concerned face above his. If the messied state of his outfit is any indication, this man just slid down the slope to catch up to him. His hands are hovering above Virgil, scared to touch, but more scared that Virgil is going to keep falling.

“Fuck,” is Virgil’s eloquent response. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to do his breathing pattern to calm his nerves, but NOPE. Wrong move.

He immediately gasps and his hands fly to his ribs, another flair of pain shooting up them. Remus’ hands grab his, pulling them away from his torso, holding them securely. “I think you have some broken ribs. That was… one hell of a fall. We need to get you back up to the trail though, okay?”

Virgil can only nod his head, allowing Remus to help him stand, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that his lip splits. It hurts.

Trust Logan to come up with ideas on the fly. The biker must have stopped when he realized Virgil had fallen (at least he didn’t just keep driving), because when Virgil opened his tear filled eyes, there was a bike tire just a few feet from his face. He followed the frame of the bike, up to where Roman was holding the other wheel and standing precariously on the slope. Logan is clinging onto his hand, one foot on the slope and one on the actual trail, and if Virgil has to guess, the biker and Patton are just out of sight, keeping Logan steady.

Virgil knows it’s going to hurt before Remus even warns him that it will, watching the taller man get a good grip on the bike wheel, before holding Virgil’s wrist with as much force that can muster without actively cutting off circulation. Virgil holds onto his wrist in return, Remus gives a shout to go ahead, and the human/bike chain they’ve created begins to pull them up.

And oh lord, if Virgil thought just laying down was painful, tripping and stumbling up a steep incline is another world altogether. This time, biting his lip doesn’t work and he lets out a few muffled cries as the team works together, Remus squeezing his wrist every time a choked sound escapes his lips, mind too full of pure agony to even curse.

When they finally step foot onto the trail again, Virgil is in tears, and he is too far gone to even care. The biker is incredibly apologetic, offering his contact information and bidding them adieu when they insist that they’re okay now, and takes off, at an admittedly much slower pace than he was at before.

Logan, the only one of them with proper (and extensive) first aid training, forces Virgil to sit, giving him time to find a position that puts as little pressure on his ribs as possible, before crouching in front of him.

“Let me check if they’re broken.”

His hand reaches out towards Virgil’s shirt and all the alarm bells start BLARING. No. No, no, no, no, no. Before he can restrain himself, he reaches out and slaps Logan’s hand away, sending another wave of pain through him. The pain doesn’t matter though, not in comparison to Logan possibly revealing his soulmark.

Logan doesn’t understand this reaction properly (when does he ever), so he tries again.

“Virgil, I need to check the extent of the damage. A cracked rib means you can still make it back to the car. A broken rib would require emergency services and probable air lifting to prevent further damage, like a punctured lung.”

“Fine,” Virgil hisses through clenched teeth, bitterly understanding his logic, “Just… don’t take the shirt off.”

He tries to say it to only Logan, but it’s clear the other’s heard it by the way they exchange confused glances. Yes, they’ve never seen Virgil without a shirt, except they’d always pegged that up to insecurities. Wouldn’t those take a back seat in a possible medical emergency?

Logan complies, however, and slides his hand under the hem of his shirt without moving the fabric. He runs his hands slowly up each rib, concentrating heavily, until he reaches one midway up and Virgil yelps, instinctively flinching backwards.

Startled by the reaction (it’s his first time actually administering first aid like this, give him a break), Logan jumps back, forgetting his hand is still under Virgil’s shirt.

His hand moves up.

Virgil moves back.

And the hem of his shirt rises up his chest for just a moment.

A moment’s all that’s needed, though. When you notice something that you’ve seen yourself a hundred times over, admiring this way and that in the mirror to commit it to memory, it only takes a glance to recognize it.

Remus only needed that split second of the shirt riding up to notice the lower half of the soulmark, and he definitely did notice it, if the way his jaw drops is anything to go off of. Virgil winces again, not from pain this time, and looks down at his shoes, abhorring the awkward silence that ensues.

The other three don’t understand, watching the two of them with varying levels of confusion, until Remus blurts:

“Are you my soulmate?”

And everything clicks into place. Virgil nods mutely, still not looking up, afraid of his reaction. Would he be upset Virgil kept it a secret? Would he be disappointed? Would he would he would he-

“Oh thank GOD!”

That’s… not the reaction he was expecting. He looks up to see Remus grinning like a child on their birthday, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I mean, if I’d want anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you! You don’t hate me, which a lot of people do, and you actually listen to me, which is nice, and not to mention you’re super hot, like the whole emo thing is just-”

“Remus!” Roman screeches, cutting him off, “You’re embarrassing him, let him breathe!”

It’s the first time Roman has ever come to Virgil’s defense, and he’s only vaguely happy about that. Truth is, he’s so much more wrapped up in the fact that Remus is actually happy that he doesn’t even notice Logan’s back to touching his ribs until another sharp pain brings him back.

“They’re definitely not broken. Fractured, at worst. Either way, you’re going to the hospital. Only question is, can you get down to the car?”

Virgil wants to nod, wants to go along with no problem, but he can barely take a step before his knees almost give out. If he could double over without making everything worse, he would.

Remus doesn’t see this as a problem, though, eagerly offering Virgil to ride on his back until they get to the bottom. The shorter is, obviously, reluctant to this plan, seeing as how it’s a decently long trail and he isn’t that light, but damn, his soulmate insists, and next thing he knows, he’s gingerly holding onto Remus’ shoulders as he pushes back into a standing position.

(If he wasn’t already super hot, he’s strong, too? Virgil has struck the literal jackpot.)

He buries his face into the crook of Remus’ neck, trying not to wince at every jolt and bump as they maneuver their way down the hill, all conversation halted so they can focus on the two of them. Roman walks in front of them and Patton and Logan behind, ready to jump into action at any sign of stumbling.

But it’s okay, it actually is, Virgil realizes as they’re making their way down the hill. Sure, they only really bonded today, but they also bonded in a day, and if that’s not telling of the future they’ll have together, whether romantic or platonic (they still need to talk that out), it’s gonna be okay.

Anyone who’s willing to throw themselves into harm's way and carry you down a mountain has got to be a worthy soulmate.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction

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kob131 · 3 years ago

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Morgan Le Fay (Alter Ego) My Room Lines

Morgause

“Master~ Can we stay here please? A moment’s rest may bring you far after all!”

“Ah, you really like to work don’t you? No no, I’m not accusing you of anything. I know your drive after all...”

“No matter what, it doesn’t seem I’ll get use to fighting. I wonder if either of those two would-ah. nevermind!”

Bond 1 “...Oh, sorry Master! I was spacing out there for a moment. I’m...not really use to being...heh, nevermind me!”

Bond 2 “Your magecraft seems a little shaky lately. Are you sure you’re feeling well? You eating well? Maybe a nice plate of meat and potatoes will make you feel better? ...Wh-what do you mean that’s too heavy?!”

Bond 3 “How strange. I’m still here. Usually I can’t remember where I’ve been or how I got where I am because...because...

...Well anyway, I can’t say it’s bad after all. I’d certainly be worried if one moment I was here with you and the next you left my sight. That-that can get rather scary...”

Bond 4 “... ... ... I can still feel them inside me, you know? ‘The Lady of The Lake’ and ‘The Fairy Witch’. My...other selves.

... Why? Why? WHY? Why do they have to exist? Why are they inside me? It’s not fair! I lost so much to them! So much of my life- Take, STOLEN from me by them! And even worst, they took my home away! I’m Morgause Pendragon, the daughter of Uther Pendragon! I am human! Not a fae! Not a witch! I. Am. HUMAN, ME!

So why can’t they just leave me alone?!”

Bond 5 “... I won’t be here for long. Even if this body were to see the end of your journey, I-I might not be the one in it. I was the first to fade away after all. It’s simply my fate...to be used and discarded by everything I love.

...Even so, I won’t run. As weak as I maybe in comparison to them...I won’t surrender a second of my time with you. With anyone. I’m here now. I am me.”

To Gawain “My son...my darling son. P-please don’t turn away! Please. I-I lost so much time with you. I can’t-I have to. Please, come embrace your mother. Before I’m gone.”

To Gareth “Gareth...my little pup. Look at you, you’ve grown up so much. I bet you had the lords at your beck and call. ... I wish I could have been there for you.”

To Agravain “Oh Agravain. It hurts to see you look at me so. And yet, it’s all my fault. If only I were stronger, if only I could overcome them. My little knight...I’m sorry.”

To Arturia “Arthur-no, Arturia isn’t it? To think I felt so bitter about what our father wanted...when there was so much to lose to that envy. I...I shall take my leave.”

To Mordred “Master, that knight over there?? That...wouldn’t happen to be Sir Mordred correct? ... Yes I assumed so, given her glares at me. Le Fay’s child with my own brother...There’s nothing I can do to help her, is there?”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “You there, the witch. You have quite the nerve to show your face here. You, who abandoned her humanity for the sake of a kingdom. Your kingdom was a shame and deserved it’s fate. Glare at me all you wish, without the three of us you would be nothing.”

Likes “What do I like? Well, I always liked cooking. It was always such a treat to see my children’s faces light up when I cooked with all my heart!”

Dislikes “...Lake fae and evil witches.”

Holy Grail “Even if it is a heresy, I would like to wish upon it. Then maybe, I can finally be free.”

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Vivian

“Master, come. We have much to do still. ...I know you must be tired, I understand your weariness. But still, we must persist.”

“There’s no need to worry about me. An adventure like this-it is a simple matter. Compared to guiding those troublesome fae...”

“Quiet, quiet, quiet. ...Sorry Master, I was...having some difficulties with...the others. Le Fay especially...”

Bond 1 “So, you have stayed by my side? How strange, most humans simply leave the lakeside after so long.”

Bond 2 “Your heart is weary. There is no point in lying. I know that feeling well myself. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard. Come, rest. All need reprieve after all.”

Bond 3 “It seems my time has not come yet. Good. I cannot-I will not fade like before. I refuse to let things end like before.”

Bond 4 “It is so tiring. To have their thoughts, their minds inside me. Always, always a reminder. That I am more than the fae ‘Vivian’. The human princess and the raging witch-

...No. No. NO! I am here now! I will be the one to fight! I will be the one to guard the Human Order! I will be the one protect the Age of Man that Father wished for! Not the human Morgause! Not the witch Le Fay!

I am Me, Vivian, The Lady of the Lake!”

Bond 5 “Even though I am the fae Vivian, an existence incompatible with mankind. It was always the humans I loved most of all. The fae, so fickle and cruel. I guided and guarded them out of duty alone.

Why you may ask? Because it was mankind that my father Uther loved. He protected them to his last breath. And so shall I. Even if I may never see the Age of Man, I will protect and guide it. Especially you, my Master. I shall ensure your safety to death and beyond.”

To Lancelot (Berserker) “Master! Th-that figure cloaked in black! I-it can’t be! My son! This is what became of you? ... Who did this?”

To Lancelot (Saber) “I knew it. Of course my son would be here. There was no chance he wouldn’t answer the call to protect mankind. He grew into a splendid knight after all.”

To Mash “This feeling... You there, young lady with the shield. Come forward, let me take a good look. ...It really is, isn’t it? Don’t be scared young lady. I shall never hurt you. Now, come with me. I have much to discuss with you.”

To Fae Servants “*Sigh* It seems there are some troublemakers in this place isn’t there? Worry not Master, I know how to keep them on a tight leash.”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ruler of the fae, huh? How pathetic. To have resorted to such evil. I do not care what your excuses are. I lead and guarded the fae myself. I sacrificed my place in the world. I expect no less of you.”

To Arturia (Archer) “How cute, thinking that little spruit is alike to my magic. Here, let me show you what a true Excalibur Vivian can accomplish.”

Likes “Besides mankind? ...I do enjoy watching the forest creatures prance about. The little bugs especially.”

Dislike “Lazy princesses and malevolent witches. That is all I’ll say.”

Holy Grail “It is a false wish granting device isn’t it? Still, if supplied with enough mana, it might just be enough to grant my wish To gain my freedom.”

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Morgan Le Fay

“Careful now, Master. One wrong step and things will certainly go wrong. I know how much fun it is to lose yourself in the throes of battle. Hehehe...But your goal must come first.”

“That fire...that determination. Very well, I’ll join you in the fray. After all, I haven’t nearly indulged enough myself.”

“Your magecraft is rather lackluster isn’t it? Hm, whatever you call your ‘talents’, that doesn’t matter. Practice, practice, practice. Experience breeds excellence. I didn’t match Merlin with pure talent after all.”

Bond 1 “I must say, staying this way at will without being subject to the fickle whims fate...it’s rather nice. Thanks Master.”

Bond 2 “Fate is cruel. I know your pain better than most. Forced into the impossible by the will of others. But don’t let your heart waver. Through will and guile, you will gain your freedom.”

Bond 3 “Don’t hesitate to give me tasks. I find myself with more time than i know what to do with. Preferably with you around...”

Bond 4 “I’m sure you’ve heard about this before but...My other selves are still here. Deep inside, I can still here them. Their woes, their uncertainty, their hatred. All mine...

...Bwahaha! What a joke! As if I would let them trend upon me. It was my loathing that struck fear into Camelot. It was my malice that twisted the Green Knight. It was my love for Britian that allowed me to stomach sharing a bed with that liar. I am no feeble princess or passive fae. I am me, Morgan, the witch that loved Britian!”

Bond 5 “So here we stand still. I’m sure you caught on but I hate the Age of Man. Tearing away all the work I put out, fading everything I’ve done into legend. Acting as though I was never here. For it’s sins, I will always spur it.

So why am I here? Because I would rather have an Age of Man with Britian than not. Be it the destruction of history or man, I will not stand for it. I will rage and hate and burn until all is done. So long as we stand on the same ground, I will be here. I can’t trust the other two to get the job done after all.”

To Mordred “Hm, that defect of a homonculus is here? Master, you are best off sending it away. It’s incapable of following orders or performing tasks sufficiently. I would love to fix it but that’s beyond my reach.”

To Arturia (Alter) “Tch, that liar dares to attach my name to something so weak. She preaches that the strong rule over the weak, shall I teach her who is truly strong then? Gwahaha!”

To Merlin “Ah, Teacher is here too. How unusual, that fickle asshole couldn’t be asked to cut a blade of grass, let alone save humanity. He’s not even really here is he?”

To Fairy Knight Tristan “Master, this annoying brat won’t leave me alone. Acting all familiar and friendly with me... Maybe I’ll teach her what it means to truly be sadistic. Perhaps by rending her limbs asunder...”

To Arturia “So the King of Liars has come as well. Maybe a trip into Hell will teach her the place where she belongs...but that will have to wait, won’t it? She still has her uses after all...”

To Oberon-Vortigern “That mana. Another embodiment of Britian is here?! It feels like that failure Vortigern...yet...it’s so different. I must dissect him, to know!”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ah yes, that other me. Heh, what a fool she turned out to be, no? She rages against man, fae and knights, wasting all her efforts in the process. Focus, my dear. Focus is the key to victory. I did not waste my time with man or fae, I put my all into the slaying of Arturia. And which of us succeeded, hm?”

Likes “A rough night with a man below me, of course.”

Dislikes “My other selves. Unlike them, I will not hide the truth.”

Holy Grail “Hm, I have no need for such a thing. Unlike them, I will not cling to a false hope. It will be my hand that cuts them out like the parasites they are.”

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Bond 10 CE: I Am...?

One minute *I’m* home with my children One minute ^I’m^ guarding those troublesome fae One minute -I’m- cackling as I tear into his flesh

The next I’m not.

It is my duty to *lead*/^guard^/-destroy- my kin No, That is *my*/^my^/-my- duty. No, it’s *mine*/^mine^/-mine-!

...Is it?

No, I am a *princess*/^guardian^/-witch-! That is not what *I*/^I^/-I- am! Stop it! This is who *I*/^I^/-I- am!

I am *me*/^me^/-me-! I am *Me*/^Me^/-Me-! I AM *ME*/^ME^/-ME-!

I am... I...am... I...

....Who am I?

#fate series #fate grand order

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 3

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - more tension and also male and female masturbation

Author’s note: Chapter 3 wheyyy! I'm super sick at the minute, but nevertheless I hope my illness isn't reflected in this piece of writing. Yikes. I hope everyone is enjoying so far! Remember if you wanted to be added to my taglist feel free to let me know!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER THREE - NEXT

The rain drops pelted heavy against your skin as the cool winter ambience sent a shiver down your spine. Once dismissed by Maxwell Lord, you practically raced out of the building. The contrast between the heat you felt in his presence and the December air was immeasurable. You took a big gasp of air, letting rain drops fall on your face and soak through your clothes. You stood there in the middle of the busy street trying to process what just happened.

You had been successful. Your elaborate plan had worked out and you had gotten the job. Only, it was unlike anything you had ever done before. Maxwell told you to expect a call sometime tomorrow and before you left, he made sure you were comfortable with the prospect of his job offer. First things first— tell Tristan the good news. Hopefully then, he would let you stay in your apartment a little while longer.

Before you could grab a ride from a cabbie, the doorman tapped you on the shoulder. "Ms Minerva?" His tone was completely different than earlier, more polite and friendly. "Ma'am? Mr Lord has requested his driver take you home. He didn't want you to get wet in the rain but," the doorman looked you up and down. "I see you're already drenched from this God foresaken rain. I’m Andreas, by the way."

Maxwell had asked his own, personal driver to take you home? You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach from his kind gesture, but you worried about the authenticity of it. How genuine was he? Maxwell Lord was someone who built up his reputation and business on lies and false hope.

"Oh really, that's quite alright," you dismissed the offer. "I can just get a cab."

Andreas put his hand out, halting you from walking away. "I'm afraid Mr Lord insists." He told you, taking out a sleek black umbrella and opening it up. He held it above you, protecting you from the rain.

"Could you tell Mr Lord that I'm grateful for his offer, but I can make my own way home?" You said through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid not," Andreas said with a short shake of his head. "Whatever Mr Lord wants, Mr Lord gets."

So that's how it was going to be.

Before you could reply, a black limousine with tinted windows pulled up on the road in front of you. A few passer-bys on the street, hands full of their Christmas shopping, shot you a strange glance as you slipped into the car. Andreas shut the door behind you and suddenly you found yourself sitting in a car that probably had more worth than your entire life’s savings.

The seats were sleek and black leather, the floor was carpeted and you spotted a small ice cooler by your sofa seat. You carefully clicked it open and examined the insides. It was just various bottles of alcohol- mostly spirits. You couldn’t help but smile as you continued to explore the limousine.

Upon meeting him, Maxwell Lord was not what you expected, but now you had found the perfect opportunity to learn more about him. You spotted a velveteen box nailed to the floor so you opened it up and found a variety of odd things. It was like a rich man’s junk drawer. Everything from gold fountain pens, jewellery, condoms, multiple checkbooks were mixed inside this box. Nosily, you scurried through it all, taking out the occasional item and examining it closer. You couldn’t believe it. You had never met someone who was just able to leave such expensive items lying around in a random box inside their own limousine.

This whole experience felt like a fever dream.

The lights in the limousine were dimmed and so you searched around for a switch or button of some kind to brighten the interior of the car. Your fingers tapped into a switch and rainbow disco lights flickered on, illuminating the limousine multi-colour. It looked more like a party bus. You didn't even realise the driver had already got into the car and as he turned on the ignition and began to drive, you jolted and fell back at the sudden force, into the plush leather seat. You scrambled to belt yourself up and compose yourself.

"Ma'am, where will I be taking you?" the driver called from the front of the limousine, as he tried to navigate through the busy Christmas roads of DC. You yelled your address back to him and he made a brief sound of acknowledgement.

After a few moments of sitting in still silence, despite the rainbow disco lights beginning to give you a headache, you heard a buzzing noise. You scrambled around in your seat, looking for where the noise originated from, when you found a phone nailed to the wall of the limo. Maxwell Lord’s limo had its own carphone! Of course it did.

Your eyes widened when you realised it was ringing and you contemplated answering it. It could be anyone! It could be someone important or a business related matter. It could be private. Thoughts raced through your mind as the phone continued to buzz.

"Are you going to get that?" The driver called out again.

You took a deep breath and took the phone off the hook, nudging it between your ear and your neck. "H-hello?" you asked, your finger anxiously twirling in the wire connecting the phone and the dock.

"Apologies for calling so early on, I usually wait a few days before calling back my female suitors," you weren't sure if your heart rate eased or increased when you heard Maxwell's voice. His voice sounded easy-going, and you were sure you even heard him chuckle slightly at his own remark. "I trust you weren't made uncomfortable by Andreas insisting you got a ride home."

"I have to admit, Mr Lord, I don't usually get into cars with strangers." you huffed, squeezing your eyes tight shut.

"Smart," Maxwell replied quickly. "So why did you this time?" His voice was dark and had a lulling undertone. He sounded similar to when he saw you during the interview earlier on, and the memory made that familiar heat erupt once more in your stomach.

You struggled to find your words. "I- I uhm-" you weren't exactly sure why you had agreed to Andreas. You would've never agreed to such a proposition before. But this is what Maxwell Lord wanted. And you didn't dare want to disappoint Maxwell Lord. You didn't understand because you didn't even know the man— nor did you have any care about him whatsoever prior to your meeting today. But since you exchanged those words in his office, you had been feeling a certain kind of way. "I trust you." you admitted with a defeated sigh. It was true. You trusted a man you had barely even spent half-an-hour with. You trusted a man who built his business on lying to the people of the world.

On the other end of the line, Maxwell was smiling to himself. His feet were on his desk and he was nursing a glass of his favourite whiskey. He could never tell you, but he craved to hear your voice again. He was already thinking about the next time he could see you. He put the glass down on his desk and with his free hand, palmed at his hardening manhood.

"I'm glad," Maxwell replied smoothly. "Trust is going to be very important in our kind of arrangement." There was a beat. "Speaking of which, would you owe me the pleasure in accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?"

"D-dinner?" you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up. Dinner with Maxwell Lord— this is not how you thought today would go. Sitting in a limousine and being asked out by the cover boy of Forbes magazine.

"I know a really nice restaurant by the river. Black-tie dress code type thing." His voice was like silk. It was getting hot in the limousine. You needed air. The thought of him taking you out for dinner at a restaurant, having a nice meal and enjoying his company felt like a dream. Then you were hit with the reality of your financial situation.

"Oh Mr Lord, I'm sure it's lovely but I don't think I can afford-"

"I think you're forgetting the terms of our arrangement darling," Maxwell snickered on the other end of the line. It was true— you had. For a moment you thought it would be a normal date. But this wasn't a relationship. He was right, it was an arrangement. "What I have, is yours. You are to want for nothing."

There was something romantic about his sentiment, you once again found yourself forgetting the true nature of his words. "Well then," you gulped."Dinner sounds great."

Maxwell's smile grew wider. "And then back to my place." his invitation sounded more like a command than a question, and the authority in his voice was enough to get your panties wet. You pursed your lips together to suppress a moan at the thought of going back to his house. You wondered what it would be like. Would your arrangement commence tomorrow night?

"I'd really like that." you let out a shaky exhale. Your hand dropped in between your legs and you slowly began to touch yourself through the thick material of your denim jeans. You ached to get home and take them off. There was something that felt so naughty about getting off in the car of a man you had just met. Especially when that man was Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell felt the same. He had intended to take you back to his place to go through a contract and discuss the specifics of your arrangement— but if the night led to something else, he certainly wouldn't be opposed. You were driving him wild; like no other woman had ever. He unzipped his pants and slipped his hand under his boxer shorts, slowly beginning to pump his length while holding the phone in the crook of his neck.

"You- you have something pretty to wear?" he asked, trying to remain as composed as possible.

"Maybe, maybe just my little black dress." you whispered in response, pressing your forehead against the cold window to try and release some tension.

Your description left much to the imagination, but Maxwell wasn't complaining. He wondered about the black dress: how short it was, exactly? How did it fit you? Did it accentuate his favourite parts of your body? Maxwell's eyes fluttered shut as he carried on stroking his length, a small grunt escaping his lips. It didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I'll have my driver pick you up tomorrow evening," Maxwell hummed. "6pm."

You couldn't even reply— he already put the phone down. Maxwell slouched back into his chair and worked at his already hard length. His thumb swept the precum that beaded at his tip and he continued pumping, wishing that the wetness around him was from your mouth as you devoured him.

He imagined your pretty lips suck him and his cock began to throb in his hands. He imagined having to push your hair out of the way so he could get a good look of your face whilst you took him in your mouth. He imagined your eyes wide and your cheeks hollowed as you fit him inside of you. He wanted to fuck your mouth, wanted to make you gag and have your saliva make a mess all over him.

Maxwell gasped as he spilt his seed all over his tailored suit pants. He kept his sensitive cock in his hand for a few moments after, feeling it soften. He wanted to soften inside of you. Already, he was enamoured by you. Desperate to feel your touch, your wetness. Desperate to hear your screams of pleasure.

When you got home, you had planned on seeing Tristan, alerting him of the good news. New job. Then maybe, he'd let you live in your apartment just a little bit longer until you could afford rent. You decided he could wait until tomorrow. Hurrying into your small flat you locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

You discarded your clothes, letting them pool into a puddle on the floor. In your frenzy, you had forgotten to open a window, so the steam from the hot water warmed your skin and small beads of sweat drew along your collarbones and chest as you ran your hands over your body. You bit your lip, hard, remembering the image of Maxwell's hands in the office which you had so carefully ingrained into your head.

You thought about his thick hands squeezing your tits, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your nipples and pinching hard enough to make you squeal. You wondered how his touch felt. You imagined him rough, and ruthless, but since meeting him today, and the way he diverted all your expectations, you wondered if he would have any surprises up his sleeve for your time in the bedroom. You let your fingers gently trace the skin of your stomach, a feather light touch that tickled slightly. You closed your eyes, imagining the wealthy CEO stood behind you, arms wrapped around your naked body and planting sloppy wet kisses into the crook of your neck.

With complete certainty, neither you or Maxwell could stop thinking about each other. Maxwell wanted to call you over in the dead of night when he couldn't sleep. His body ached for you. He felt a neediness that he had never felt before. Of course he could just call one of his assistants. He paid them enough, they would be able to come over and satisfy him (to some extent), but the problem was, they weren't you.

You had done something to him, and now nobody else could even begin to compare to you. You consumed his every thought. Maxwell had once almost married a rival CEO. He was meant to be in love with her but… the feelings were not the same as this. The feelings he felt for you were far beyond lust, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly they were. He cursed himself, feeling frustrated. This wasn't him. But he was completely and utterly whipped on you.

And you weren't much different. You swore you were in love with Tristan. You had been in an on and off relationship with him for two years but once again, the feelings you had for him were so different to the feelings you now possessed for Maxwell. It was indescribable. You wrecked your room, trying to find the perfect shoes and accessories to wear with your promised little black dress. You wanted to be perfect. You wanted to look perfect. And it was all for Maxwell.

He had you whipped, and you hated him for it.

You lived your life wanting to only impress yourself. You didn't think twice about the way men felt about you. It never mattered. But this was Maxwell Lord. Everything was just different.

So when your 'date' finally came around, you were both equally bursting with anticipation.

When you slid in the back of the limousine, Maxwell couldn't keep his eyes from you. His gaze was glued onto your amazing figure which he loved so much, and the way your little black dress clung to your body and accentuated all your perfections. Your little diamond earrings sparkled under the car's dim light and there was something so beautiful about the simplicity of it.

Truth be told, Maxwell Lord was nervous. He didn't date. He couldn't remember the last time he went on a proper date (he wasn't even sure if you classed this outing as a date). He wasn't one for relationships either. Hell, a woman could count herself lucky if she lasted a week with him. He liked the spontinuity of fucking different women, no strings attached. Throwing them away like garbage the second he got bored. He had the power to do that. It was just the way he was and he had no intentions of that changing.

Although, maybe his intentions were slowly changing and he hadn't yet realised. You offered him the kindest smile he had ever seen, your eyes glistening like jewels. And oh, he felt his cheeks warm up. He leaned over to the window on his side and pressed his face against it, the cool winter air calming his nerves. When your fingers graced the material of his tailored suit pants, just over his thigh, he swore his heart stopped.

"You look nice." you beamed at him, your heart blooming when he finally turned and his brown eyes met yours. You didn't expect Maxwell Lord to disappoint, in any sense, but especially not when it came to fashion. The power suit he was wearing was practically dripping in wealth, and you were almost certain every inch of him was wearing designer names from his suit jacket to his gold cufflinks in his shirt.

"So do you." Maxwell returned the compliment, gawking as he took in your exquisite form. You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze and you awkwardly looked down at your match black heels, scraping them against the carpeted floor of the limousine. "That dress- I saw it in Louis Vuitton last year?" Maxwell pointed out and you looked down, reacquainting yourself with the outfit you had chosen to wear.

"This? Oh no no," you chuckled earnestly. "I got this from the thrift store for seven dollars like a month ago."

You regretted those words as soon as they left your lips. You did not just admit to Maxwell Lord that you had bought the dress he had been so enthralled in, from the moment you entered the limo, second hand. To your surprise, he gave you a toothy grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight and that adorable little dimple appearing in his left cheek.

"We're here," he announced as the driver pulled up on the side of the road. You gazed out the window in awe. The whole street was lit up in gold Christmas fairy lights, and the restaurant that Maxwell had selected, was highlighted with tinsel and a huge Christmas tree in the front window.

"Wow," you couldn't help but whisper at the gorgeous view. You hadn't even realised Maxwell had already slipped out the car and opened your side door for you. He held his hand out for you, and of course you grabbed it. His hands were soft and warm… he definitely moisturized. He helped you out of the limo and shut the door behind you, sliding an arm around your waist as he guided you into the restaurant.

"Be careful not to slip on the black ice." he warned as he helped you slowly walk in your heels. Still hand in hand, you looked up at him with the biggest smile. You hadn't felt a happiness like this in a long time. He didn't look at you back, instead of focusing on successfully navigating inside the restaurant without falling over.

The restaurant was empty. Not a soul in sight. Your eyes snapped to Maxwell, waiting for him to give you an explanation. He caught on, offering you a small and understanding nod.

"I rented the restaurant out." He explained, raising an eyebrow as he examined his surroundings. Your gaze followed his as you took in the merrily strung Christmas lights and the beautifully decorated tree by the front bay window.

"Why would you do that?" You quizzed him.

"You never know who is sitting among us," he explained. "Journalists, paparazzi, crazed fans."

Ah, there it was. The part about Maxwell you had completely forgotten about. He was famous. Everyone in the world knew who he was and if you had known anything about Maxwell before meeting him, it was that the tabloids loved to pry into his personal life. So, you were somewhat understanding. But that didn't stop the devastating feeling of your heart sinking into your chest. He wanted to hide you. It made sense, I mean, you had only just met and you were only his sugar baby, but it still hurt. You done your best to ignore the strange feelings and told yourself you could still have a good night with him. But the thoughts didn't escape your mind.

You and Maxwell were ushered to a seat by a lit fireplace and passed menus by a beaming waiter. "Can I get you a drink while you decide on what to eat?" he asked with an enthusiastic smile.

"Just a bottle of your finest champagne with two glasses," Maxwell replied, not even looking at the waiter but flicking his wrist and gesturing for him to scurry away. The waiter left both of you in a frenzy, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Is something funny?" Maxwell prompted you, raising an eyebrow. You pursed your lips again but shook your head 'no'. Maxwell's eyes flicked back down to the menu and you burst into another fit of giggles. "Seriously, what is it?" Maxwell asked sternly and you straightened your posture, taking a deep breath and trying to compose yourself.

"That poor waiter looked so afraid of you." You admitted quietly. Maxwell shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.

"A lot of people are afraid of me."

"Why?" you beckoned, leaning closer to him.

Maxwell hesitated and put his menu down. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"A lot of people used to be afraid of my mother," Maxwell admitted. "I'm afraid I'm going to end up like her."

"Why were they afraid of your mother?" you questioned him, thanking the waiter as he promptly brought you the two glasses and bottle of ice cold champagne. You began to pour it out.

"She was so cold. Bitter… heartless…" Maxwell scowled, quickly taking a glass of champagne and downing it in one quick gulp. "I worry that, maybe, others perceive me in the same light as they perceive my mother."

"That they think you're cold, bitter and heartless?" you quizzed, and Maxwell winced at your words. He didn't reply, instead buried his gaze into the cream coloured table cloth.

You extended your arms and reached out, taking hold of his soft ring clad hands. Maxwell's breathing hitched under your touch. You noticed the way his hands were considerably larger than yours but even still, you rubbed comforting circles into his skin with your thumb. He interlocked his fingers with yours and you offered him a warm smile. "I don't think you're cold, bitter and heartless."

Maxwell sighed. "You don't know me."

"I see the warmth in your eyes," you whispered. "I know there's more to you than meets the eye."

Taglist: if you want to be added let me know! (if your name is crossed out it means I can't tag you)

December Magic: @kiwi-the-first @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell

Permanent: @goth-topic @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #max lord #max lord smut #max lord x reader #december magic

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fellulahh · 5 years ago

Text

Diavolo crashes MC’s wedding (extra long milestone piece!)

Just a quick note: I could not for the LIFE OF ME work out how to do an ‘under the cut’ on this piece so I apologise if this takes up 99% of your dash!

I haven’t given a name for the fiancé so don’t be alarmed when he’s constantly referred to as this

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! This piece is very soft just to warn you

As Diavolo stood outside the door to MC’s home, he let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn’t believe he was there. It felt like he’d been standing on her doorstep for hours as he debated whether he should knock or not. It’d taken him weeks before he even decided to go to the human realm but now that he was there he began to regret his decision.

Did he really think it was a good idea going to see MC when she’s due to marry another? It’d only hurt him more to see her with anyone that wasn’t him.

All he could think of was the day that MC left.

Having said her goodbyes to all of the brothers, MC walked up to the Prince. Her lip began to tremble as she avoided his gaze and grinned awkwardly. His would be the hardest goodbye.

“MC.” Diavolo smiled sadly, “I must say I never expected to feel this affected by your departure. It’d seem I’ve grown fond of you...” he spoke quietly to ensure none of the other brothers could interrupt their moment.

Stepping up to him, MC wrapped her arms around his body, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Thank you for letting me experience this.” She breathed, “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even know this realm exists.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He shook his head as he held her close to his chest. “Now you must go - your fiancé will be waiting for you.”

MC’s face contorted at the mention. In her last week in Devildom she decided to tell the brothers the truth about her life back at home. For all the time she’d spent with them, she was actually engaged despite her blossoming relationships with the brothers. However, it wasn’t your usual engagement. Sipping a glass of wine, MC expressed how unhappy she was in the relationship and how she wished she could stay in Devildom forever.

The brothers were all hurt by the revelation at first, but after seeing MC express her anxieties on having to marry such a toxic man, they began to see why she never told them. If she never mentioned or thought about him, perhaps it’d be like he never existed.

Diavolo eventually caught wind of MC’s fiancé through Lucifer but never learned her fears of marrying him. He never expected his heart to sink at the news; Diavolo had never even realised that perhaps he saw MC as more than a friend. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t allow his discovered feelings to change anything. MC was spoken for - he wouldn’t do anything to interfere with that.

As MC’s mind wandered back to the night she confessed to everyone about her secret engagement, she pulled out of the hug with Diavolo. “You’re right.” She breathed shakily. “I assume it will be like I never left?”

“You’ll find yourself exactly where you were when you were first summoned here.” Diavolo smiled as he caressed her cheek.

The brothers stared at him bewildered, why was he touching her in such a way?

Quickly removing his hand after realising he was lingering, he composed himself. “I’ll miss you, MC.” He nodded sincerely.

MC didn’t say anything at first. She wasn’t ready to go back to the human realm without admitting her true feelings. She never wanted to marry her fiancé previously because of the toxicity of their relationship, but now she didn’t want to marry him because she loved another. She’d fallen in love with Diavolo.

Knowing that she’d regret it if her feelings were left unspoken, MC brought her lips closed to the Prince’s ear as she whispered to him.

“I love you, Diavolo.”

Stepping back from him, she walked over to Solomon who had been waiting patiently for her before the Prince could react. Diavolo was left speechless as her words repeated in his mind. MC had promised herself to another but she’d fallen in love with him. Lucifer and the brothers eyed him suspiciously as they all wondered what on Earth she said to him.

Suddenly the Prince’s happy expression fell. MC had felt the same way about him after all this time and now she was leaving. She didn’t even give him the chance to confess his love for her too. And now she was returning to the human realm to marry another. Diavolo had lost his chance to tell her how he felt.

“You ready?” Solomon smiled as MC approached him.

“About as ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighed, as she gave him one last hug.

In her final seconds, she gave a warm smile to all of the brothers as a silent tear slipped down her cheek. And then her eyes fell on Diavolo whose lips were still parted.

“Thank you.” She repeated to him quietly before vanishing into thin air.

Diavolo’s eyes remained glued to the place on the floor where she was just stood. She was gone.

Finding every last ounce of courage, Diavolo finally lifted up his arm, knocking gently on the door. His chest rose up and down as he waited for MC to answer.

Stepping back onto the path, his heart began to race as he saw a silhouette behind the blinds approach the front door. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched the door handle turn. But then his expression soon fell as a man was revealed.

MC’s fiancé.

“Yes?” He asked rather rudely.

Taken aback by her fiancé’s bluntness, Diavolo quickly shook his head. “Good Morning, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was wondering if MC was in?”

“She knows you?” The fiancé asked curiously as he leant against the door frame, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes she does.” Diavolo nodded.

“Well I’ve never seen you before.” He scowled as he eyed up the colossal stranger in front of him. “She’s not in though, sorry.”

And with that, the fiancé shut the door leaving Diavolo in complete shock. What did MC see in the man so rude? Confused, and a little hurt, Diavolo began trudging back down the path defeated. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get to see MC, what would he even say to her?

However, he stopped in his tracks after hearing her voice. Spinning around, he saw MC in the window with her fiancé seemingly shouting her. Diavolo couldn’t work out what they were saying but he could tell MC was upset and on the verge of tears. Not wanting to be spotted, he quickly paced down the path and turned at the bottom until he was out of sight.

Pulling out his D.D.D, he didn’t even think as he called Lucifer. Being the trusty right hand man he is, the eldest brother picked up straight away.

“My Lord?” His cool tone spoke down the line.

“Lucifer, I need you to tell me everything you know about MC’s fiancé.” Diavolo demanded. The question caught Lucifer completely off guard. Why was Diavolo calling him about MC weeks after she’d left and why was he asking about her love life?

“Her fiancé?” Lucifer questioned, baffled by the lack of context to their conversation.

“There’s no time to explain, Lucifer. MC could be in trouble - I am aware she told you everything about her engagement so I know she will have mentioned what her fiancé is like.”

Hesitating at first, Lucifer told the truth. “She hates him, My Lord. She expressed that their relationship was incredibly toxic and that she felt trapped with him.”

“Why did you not ever tell me this?” Diavolo asked frustrated, surprising Lucifer.

“I apologise My Lord, I hadn’t realised I should have...” the eldest brother spoke, “is she okay? How have you learnt that she may be in danger?” He asked quickly, beginning to worry about the human he hadn’t hear from since her departure.

“Worry not, Lucifer.” Diavolo breathed, “this is a matter that I shall deal with. I’ll be away from Devildom for the next week. I trust I can leave you in charge.”

“My Lord i—“

Diavolo hung up the D.D.D. There was no time for questions - he had to devise a plan quickly to save MC from her relationship. He silently cursed to himself as he realised the date. The wedding was tomorrow! How was he supposed to have a moment with MC alone away from her fiancé? He was furious at himself for waiting so long to take the initiative. Now it could be too late.

There’s no way he’d ever allow her to marry him, especially now that he knew she wasn’t happy. The only words that repeated in his mind were one of the last she whispered to him.

‘I love you, Diavolo.’

“Why didn’t you tell me, MC?” He asked himself with a long sigh, “I never would have let you go.”

He knew deep down that he’d have to act rash. He’d intended to come to the human realm to just talk to MC but given the circumstances, there was no time for that now. It was a make of break decision that he’d have to make. Should he pour his heart out to her?

Pulling out some human money as he began walking down the street, he realised that time was not in his favour. In mere hours she’d be married to the man who’d trap her forever. Diavolo would have to act fast if he were to save her. Breathing quickly, he couldn’t believe his intentions as his mind raced.

This demon was about to crash the wedding.

*the following day*

As MC stood in front of all of her friends and family in her white gown, she had to try and hold back her tears. Although her groom in front of her had a warm smile on his face, she knew that it was all an act. She let out a sigh as she felt all eyes on them in that moment as they stood in front of the alter.

She’d never felt so alone in all of her life. Everybody had been manipulated by the image of their relationship; nobody knew how trapped MC truly felt.

All her mind could think of was Devildom. The things she would do to throw away this life and return home to the House of Lamentation...

Letting out a shaky breath, she met the cold stare of her fiancé. He’d won.

As the organ playing came to an end, the priest stepped up to the two of them.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to witness the joining together of MC and (fiancé) in the holy covenant of marriage.”

Every word felt like venom to MC. To everybody else it was the start of an everlasting bond but to her it was a life sentence.

“(Fiancé), do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” The priest continued.

“I do.” He answered, glaring at MC’s concerned face.

She could feel her heart begin to race as the priest turned to face her.

“And MC, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

MC froze on the spot. Her watery eyes slowly trailed across the expressions of the expectant guests as she gulped. Her fiancé tightened his grip on her hands as she hesitated, causing her to return her focus to him. His cold stare burned into her skull as her body trembled.

“I d—“

“STOP” a voice boomed as the doors to the church burst open.

There was a chorus of gasps from everybody in the room as they all turned their focus to the stranger that had just forced his way into the building.

MC’s eyes widened completely and her heart flipped as she saw Diavolo rush into the room. Was she hallucinating?

“Diavolo?” She breathed with a sheepish grin as she let go of her fiancés hands.

“You know him?!” Her fiancé spat in disgust at her, “I knew it, I knew you were hiding something from me.”

There were mixed whispers amongst the guests. Some were of shock at the fiancés outburst, some were of disgust as they assumed MC had cheated.

As the demon marched down the aisle, he ignored the burning of his skin as he made his way further into the church. Seeing that MC’s eyes were still fixated on the man who was at their house only yesterday, her fiancé turned his glare to Diavolo. “What is the meaning of this?!” He asked angrily. “What gives you the impression you can show up at my house asking to see my fiancé and then interrupt my wedding?!”

“I’m stopping MC from making the biggest mistake of her life.” Diavolo breathed heavily through gritted teeth as the sensation of being in a place of holiness caused his body to scold. He had to force himself to not let his true demon form show.

Everybody was speechless. Neither the guests nor the priest knew how to react. Sensing huge conflict between the Prince and her fiancé, MC quickly stepped away from the alter. “Excuse me for a moment.” She spoke only just audible enough for most people to hear.

“Where are you going?!” Her fiancé roared from behind as she walked away.

She quickly grabbed Diavolo by his arm as she led him out of the church, leaving her fiancé seething. Exiting the church, she shut the door behind her as she took the Prince away from the grounds.

“Diavolo what are you doing here? Are you hurt?” She asked worried, noticing how much agony he was in. Her small hands found his body as she gazed up at him with concerned eyes.

As soon as he felt her stare, his body relaxed. He seemed to forget about all the pain as he felt her touch again.

“You can’t marry him..” he breathed, “please MC, don’t marry him.”

MC was in complete shock as her chest heaved. She hadn’t heard from any of the brothers let alone Diavolo since she left their realm. The last thing she said to him was that she loved him and that’s how it was left. She felt incredibly faint after the sudden event that had just happened and her tight wedding gown didn’t help. “Why?” She asked quietly.

“Why do you even need to ask?” He asked desperately, “That man in there is awful - you can’t allow yourself to be with someone like him. You’re a prisoner to him, he doesn’t love you!” He panted, “I love you.”

“You came back for me?” MC asked with teary eyes, unable to believe his confession, “how did you find me?”

“I came to see you yesterday.” Diavolo admitted, “But he wouldn’t even allow me to leave a message for you - he practically turned me away as soon as he saw me. And then I heard the way he shouted at you as I left.”

As the Prince spoke, MC had a serious expression on her face as she remember her fiancé accusing her of seeing other men behind his back.

“That was you?” She asked softly.

“It was.” Diavolo nodded, “After that I knew I couldn’t leave you with him, I called Lucifer and demanded he tell me everything he knew about your relationship. That’s when I found out the truth. Why didn’t you tell me, MC?” He asked upset as he held her hand, “why didn’t you tell me I was sending you back to such a monster?”

“I already loved you, Diavolo. I didn’t want to make our goodbye any harder.” MC sighed.

“You should have told me, MC. If it weren’t for Barbatos I may not have made it in time today...” he confessed, “I was afraid I was too late when I arrived.”

MC silently thanked Barbatos. Any second later and she would have made her vow to her fiancé.

“You’re not too late...” she breathed as her glassy eyes watched over his troubled expression.

“I hoped I wouldn’t be.” Diavolo shook his head, “I already made the mistake of not telling you I love you when you confessed to me on your last day. I’d never forgive myself if I made the wrong decision today.”

As MC glanced over her shoulder at the church that held her wedding, her face saddened. “What do I do?” She asked quietly.

“Come home.” Diavolo insisted, “come back with me.”

“But Diavolo the program is over.” MC sighed.

“I don’t care - that’s irrelevant now.” He smiled tranquilly. “I’ve grown too fond of you to allow you stay here in a life you don’t enjoy. Even if you don’t come back for me, come back for the brothers.”

Sensing that Diavolo was worried that she’d lost her love for him, MC placed her hand on his cheek. “You realise there hasn’t been a day that has passed where I haven’t thought of you?” She asked with a small smile. “I loved you the day that I left, and I still love you now.”

Diavolo licked his lips as he listened to her every word. This one human had made his heart so vulnerable; there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for her. He’d give up his title for her along as it meant she’d return with him.

Glancing at the church one more time, MC smiled as she pulled off her veil from her head. “You have no idea the relief I felt when you came crashing through those doors.” She grinned as she dropped the veil to the floor. “Who would have thought a demon would save me from my marriage?”

“Does that mean you’ll come?” Diavolo beamed with a small blush. “I want you to be with me, MC.”

“Of course I’ll come home.” MC breathed, engulfing him in a hug.

Diavolo’s heart had never beaten so fast in all of his existence. He felt an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach as butterflies erupted. As they pulled out of their hug, MC’s eyes flickered to his lips before she quickly pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He held her body tight in his arms as he felt a sense of euphoria.

Finally he’d made the right decision. Finally MC was his.

“Thank you for coming back for me.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years ago

Text

Songs & Characters Pedro Pascal

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful / Florence + The Machine

I listened to the whole album and each song, sometimes specific lyrics, made me think of certain Pedro characters. I have no explanation, I just felt like doing this. I plan on doing the rest of Florence + The Machine’s albums with the Pedro boys. Maybe after that with different artists/albums and characters, maybe some Marvel or slashers? Send in your thoughts and some requests?

Lyrics and their characters below the cut because I have no self control.

Ship To Wreck / Javier Pena

And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I said? I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed And, ah, my love remind me, what was it that I did? Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch? Did I build a ship to wreck?

What Kind Of Man / Dave York

And with one kiss / You inspired a fire of devotion that lasts for twenty years / What kind of man loves like this?

To let me dangle at a cruel angle / Oh, my feet don't touch the floor / Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out / But you never close the door

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful / Ezra

Between a crucifix and the Hollywood sign, we decided to get hurt Now there's a few things we have to burn Set our hearts ablaze, and every city was a gift And every skyline was like a kiss upon the lips And I was making you a wish In every skyline

So much time on the other side Waiting for you to wake up So much time on the other side Waiting for you to wake up Maybe I'll see you in another life If this one wasn't enough So much time on the other side

Queen of Peace / Din Djarin

His only son Cut down, but the battle won Oh, what is it worth When all that's left is hurt

Like the stars chase the sun Over the glowing hill, I will conquer Blood is running deep Some things never sleep

And my love is no good Against the fortress that it made of you Blood is running deep Sorrow that you keep

Various Storms & Saints / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels and Maxwell Lord

You don't need no edge to cling from / Your heart is there, it's in your hands / I know it seems like forever / I know it seems like an age / But one day this will be over / I swear it's not so far away

Whiskey / But still you stumble, feet give way Outside the world seems a violent place But you had to have him, and so you did Some things you let go in order to live While all around you the buildings sway You sing it out loud, who made us this way I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay Hold on to your heart, you'll keep it safe Hold on to your heart, don't give it away

Maxwell Lord / And the air was full Of various storms and saints Praying in the street As the banks began to break And I'm in the throes of it Somewhere in the belly of the beast But you took your toll on me So I gave myself over willingly Oh, you got a hold on me I don't know how I don't just stand outside and scream I am teaching myself how to be free

Delilah / Marcus Pike and Frankie Morales

'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine (Holding on for your call) / 'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine(Maybe not tonight)

Marcus Pike / Strung up, strung out for your love Hang in, hung up, it's so rough I'm wrung and ringing out Why can't you let me know?

Strung up, strung out for your love Hang in, hung up, it's so rough I'm wrung and ringing out Why can't you let me know?

Frankie Morales / Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around

Now I'm dancing with Delilah and her vision is mine (Holding on for your call) A different kind of danger in the daylight (I can never let go) Took anything to cut you, I can find (Holding on for your call) A different kind of a danger in the daylight (Can't you let me know?)

Long & Lost / Dave York and Javier Pena

Dave York / Lost in the fog, these hollow hills Blood running hot, night chills Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me

Is it too late to come on home Are all those bridges now old stone Is it too late to come on home Can the city forgive, I hear its sad song

Javier Pena / I need the clouds to cover me Pull in the dark, surround me Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me

It's been so long between the words we spoke Will you be there up on the shore, I hope You wonder why it is that I came home I figured out where I belong

Caught / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels and Max Phillips

Whiskey / As if the dream of you, it sleeps too But it never slips away It just gains its strength and digs its hooks To drag me through the day

And I'm caught I forget all that I've been taught I can't keep calm, I can't keep still Pulled apart against my will

Max Phillips / Then you leave my head and crawl out of bed You subconscious solipsist And for those hours deep in the dark Perhaps you don't exist

And I was thrashing on the line Somewhere between Desperate and divine I can't keep calm, I can't keep still Persephone will have her fill

Third Eye / Frankie Morales, Pero Tovar, Javier Pena, Maxwell Lord

Frankie Morales / Don't make a shadow of yourself,always shutting out the light Caught in your own creation Look up, look up! It tore you open And oh, how much

'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies And I can see it with my third eye And though my touch, it magnifies You pull away, you don't know why

Maxwell Lord / You don't have to be a ghost here amongst the living You are flesh and blood And you deserve to be loved and you deserve what you are given

'Cause your pain is a tribute The only thing you let hold you Wear it now like a mantle Always there to remind you

St. Jude / Ezra, Dave York, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno

Ezra / Another conversation with no destination Another battle never won Each side is a loser So who cares who fired the gun

And I'm learning so I'm leaving And even though I'm grieving I'm trying to find a meaning Let loss reveal it Let loss reveal it

Din Djarin / St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes St Jude, we were lost before she started St Jude, we lay in bed as she whipped around us St Jude, maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos

Marcus Moreno / And I was on the island and you were there too But somehow through the storm I couldn't get to you, Oh St Jude, somehow she knew And she came to give her blessing while causing devastation And I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I just had to mention Grabbing your attention

Mother / Javier Pena, Ezra, Pero Tovar

Javier Pena / I put my feet into the fountain The statues all asleep No use wishing on the water It grants you no relief

Mother, make me Make me a bird of prey So I can rise above this, let it fall away Mother, make me Make me a song so sweet Heaven trembles, fallen at our feet

Ezra / Oh lord, won't you leave me Leave me on my knees Cause I belong to the ground now And it belongs to thee

And oh lord, won't you leave me Leave me just like this Cause I belong to the ground now I want no more than this

How I long for the older The sun keeps burning deep Every stone in this city keeps reminding me Can you protect me from what I want? The love I let in, it left me so lost

Pero Tovar / Mother, make me Make me a big tall tree So I can shed my leaves and let it blow through me Mother, make me Make me a big grey cloud So I can rain on you things I can't say out loud

All these couples are kissing And I can't stand the heat I lost my shoes and left the party I wander in the street

Hiding / Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno, Din Djarin, Maxwell Lord, Javier Pena

Frankie Morales / I know that you're hiding I know there's a part of you that I just cannot reach You don't have to let me in Just know that I'm still here I'm ready for you whenever Whenever you need Whenever you want to begin

Din Djarin / I know you've tried But something stops you every time You cry a little So do I So do I And it's your price That's keeping us still so far apart But if you give a little So will I So will I

Maxwell Lord / I know I seem shaky This hand's not fit for holding But if you let me, oh I will see you're wrong

Tell me I will be released Not sure I can deal with this Up all night again this week Breaking things that I should keep

Javier Pena / I think you hide When all the world's asleep and tired You cry a little So do I So do I I think you hide And you don't have to tell me why You cry a little So do I So do I

Tell me I will be released Not sure I can deal with this Up all night again this week Breaking things that I should keep

Make Up Your Mind / Pero Tovar, Max Phillips, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels, Dave York

Max Phillips / I never thought that I'd be facing A sea that's bluer than the tide Now my knees are shaking And I can't look in your eyes

But if you're gonna make me do it How'd you want it done Is it best to sip it slowly Or drink it down in one

Make up your mind Let me live or let me love you While you've been saving your neck I've been breaking mine for you The power is on, the guillotine hums My back's to the wall, go on, let it fall, oh Make up your mind Before I make it up for you

Whiskey / I never thought I'd be a killer Cause there's so much to lose But if I can't drink the water What else can I do

And although the axe is heavy It just sits in my hands While you're changing like the current Not a shore on land

Every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around

Pero Tovar / The executioner's within me And he comes blindfold ready Sword in hand And arms so steady Every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around But every time I try to bring it down You always turn my head around

Which Witch / Dave York

And it's my whole heart Weighted and measured inside And it's an old scar Trying to bleach it out

And it's my whole heart Deemed and delivered a crime I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

Who's a heretic now? Am I making sense? How can you make it stick? Waiting 'til the beat comes out

#javier peña #marcus pike #ezra (prospect)#din djarin #the mandalorian #agent whiskey #agent jack whiskey daniels #maxwell lord #zach wellison #frankie catfish morales #dave york #max phillips #pero tovar #marcus moreno #pedro pascal characters #song inspo #pedro pascal

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night-faye · 4 years ago

Note

Kidnapped, Gwaine and Gwen? (For the Angsty April prompts)

Here ya go!!

Gwen, her back pressing against the rough cobblestone, her shoulders digging into the walls on either side of her, wedged herself further into the corner of her damp cell, and curled protectively around her center.

There was a clang against her cell bars, and she glared over her knees at the fine-groomed man, disgust at his cruel eyes and malicious smile boiling in her gut.

“Hello, your majesty. Have you made your decision, yet?”

“Why don’t you go shove that sword of yours up yo-” She snarled, and he cut her off with another bang against her cell bars.

“Now, now. That’s not very lady-like. Y’see, this is the problem. Arthur was bad enough on his own, though, I will admit he was awful in his own ways, points for not being just another Uther, I suppose. But then? Then he married some low-born peasant, and, well-” The lord scoffed. “My point is; At least Arthur had the blood and breeding for the throne, but you? You’re just not deserving of it, and no child of yours will be, either.”

He tilted his head, and his smile grew sickly sweet, too wide and yet still not reaching his eyes. “Think on your options a bit longer. Either you comply, and you can have your life back, or, well, the life you’re suited too, I should say. Shoveling pig shit in some forgotten little village, but alive. Or, you can keep your undeserved title of queen, and have it engraved across your tomb.”

Gwen felt the snarl tug at her lips before she heard it tear from her throat, and the lord’s false smile fell away, displeasure washing across his face.

“Fine, then. I’ve never been one to like hurting a woman, but you’ve given me no choice. You will be executed at dawn, and don’t worry, we’ll make it a show.”

Gwen watched as he left, her eyes tracking him for as long as they could, and then her eyes listening as his footsteps went up, up, up, before fading away. She sucked in a breath, and curled protectively back around her center again. Curled around the one thing she has come to care about over all other things, even though she barely had a concept of it even existing.

It had been the spark that had banished the darkness she had fallen into after Arthur’s death. Yes, she had had the support of those still alive, and yes, she had to love of the kingdom, but it hadn’t…

She had loved Arthur, and he had been ripped from her, and she hadn’t had anything beyond cold castle walls and possessions long faded of his touch, his warmth. And then-

And then she had discovered there was a heart beating inside of her, not her own, and she had decided that she would not bring Arthur’s child into a world of coldness and grief.

And the enemies of Camelot had decided that they did not want another Pendragon in line for the throne.

She swallowed back the sob that was building in the base of her throat, and slowly breathed it out. The knights would come for her, she was sure. There was no possible way they wouldn’t.

They’d… All of them, they’d made a pledge. They weren’t Camelot’s knights (It didn’t matter where they were, anymore, not really.), they weren’t Arthur’s knights (He was dead and gone, they couldn’t be his knights, not anymore.), they weren’t the knights of the round table (Too many empty spaces, too painful to sit at for all of them who were left behind.)

They were her knights.

And her knights would find her.

There was a clang of metal coming from far down the hallway, and she jerked her head up, focusing in on the sound.

She was focusing so hard she could hear it as a body hit the floor just out of sight, and as a blade punched through leather and flesh. Could hear the pained gasp of the only captor she had spoken too, his gurgling last breaths as he choked on his own breath.

In the next instant a figure, wrapped in scarlet, was bent over the lock to her cell, keys jangling in shaking hands.

Gwen gasped as she took in who, exactly, was shoving the door to her cell and charging over to her, crouching down, his hands hovering at either side of her. Like he was afraid of her being hurt, and him touching her making it worse.

“Gwaine, what are you doing here?” She whispered, launching herself from her huddle to her knees, and catching his face in her hands. His eyes were still so haunted, and his face still so pale. The after effects of Morgana’s torture still ravaging him even four months later.

Gwaine quirked a shaky smile at her, and enveloped her in a tight hug. “Never been one to leave a damsel in distress, now have I?” He muttered, his voice still so rough and quiet. Throat still healing from the scream-inducing nightmares that had only stopped a month ago.

She buried her head in the crook of his neck. “No, you haven’t” She whispered. She’d put him on bed rest the moment they got back to Camelot, but for now…

For now she was just grateful that he was here. Here to save her, and alive to be here to save her.

“Come on,” He muttered into her hair. “Merls, Percy, and Leon are waiting for us.”

“Okay.” She said, pulling back and letting him help her to stand. “Let’s go home, Gwaine.”

He nodded, and smiled at her again, this one far less shaky. “Yeah, let’s.”

Posted on AO3 - Here

Prompt list - Here

#BBC Merlin #Gwen #Gwaine #Angst for April #Faye Writes

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hitsuackerman · 5 years ago

Text

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 2 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: so this was pretty challenging to write since its difficult to imagine Aizawa and his lustful needs all while trying to keep him in character... So, I hope this part 2 did you justice :) thank you for requesting this @hxneybee-uwu ! enjoy!

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing

Link: Part 1, Part 3

Materlist for my other fics :) here

Mina: Did you hear the news? We’re going 2 b having dorms

Toru: Did Aizawa-sensei and All Might Visit you guys now?

Kiri: Not yet. But my parents will surely agree.

You stared at the group chat before you. Heart racing at the thought of two teachers (okay, maybe one of them in particular) visiting your empty house. Not bothering to reply to your friends, you hurriedly stood up and began cleaning whatever nook and cranny your eyes could see.

As you were mopping the floors, a thought came into your mind. How would things work knowing you lived alone? Whose permission would you ask for? Both your parents had passed and them having no brothers or sisters, you had nowhere else to go, you settled for living off of the inheritance. It was just enough for you to live, given you had a part time job.

Your phone beeped once more cutting your thoughts.

Bakugo: Oi. How are yu gonna give them yer consent?

Y/N: I have no idea. I think I can ask one of them to sign it for my name instead…?

Bakugo: You really think theyd do that? Bullshit

Y/N: I can only hope huhuhu :(

Staring at your screen, your heart sunk at the idea of not being given the needed permission to join the dorms. Still, you showed a small smile at how Bakugo showed concern. He was one of the few people who knew about your predicament. Tossing your phone aside, you continued doing your chores.

When it was finally noon, you were now properly dressed and everything was now in tip top shape. All that was left was for your teachers to arrive. Killing time, you turned on the TV and watched whatever show was on. Not soon after, there was a knock on the door.

‘Fuck…’ You internally panicked when you saw it was only Aizawa outside your door. Any hopes of not having to make things awkward, flushed down the drain. Heat instantly traveled to your cheeks as your mind recalled what transpired a few days ago.

“You live alone, right?” Aizawa asked as he fixed his bag strap on his shoulder. His eyes took in your features. The pink tint on your cheeks gave him an uneasy feeling. The small rise in his heart beat needed to be pushed aside.

“Yeah.” You stepped aside to give him room to enter. When he passed by, you bit your inner lip and prayed for any sort of help. “Make yourself comfortable, sensei.”

‘Lords that sounds so wrong even if it’s still with context.’ This was not going well. Not one bit.

Leading him towards the living room, the two of you sat across from each other. It had only dawned on you that he was not wearing his hero costume. Instead, he was wearing a white button down shirt with the same tie from before. His stubble had returned quite fast but his hair was kept in a low bun.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” You touched your neck while trying to avoid eye contact. Seeing him sitting on your sofa was terrible for your fantasies. What you’d give to do at least something on that damn sofa.

When you started biting on your lip, his mouth started to dry. He had to swallow his saliva as his stare lingered on your lip. Once again, his skin tingles at the memory of your soft skin on his calloused one.

‘Shota. Stop.’ He mentally slapped himself. ‘See? This is why you should have let Toshinori visit (L/N).’

“Stop chewing on your lip, (L/N).” He snapped you out of your thoughts. Clearing his throat he advertently changed the topic. “Water will do.”

Excusing yourself, you scurried to the kitchen. This was not good. The fact that he’s in your home dressed like that caused your mind to relay pictures. How would he look underneath those clothes? Would he mind it if you ran your fingers through his hair? Of course he would. What the hell were you thinking? Those were the thoughts running in your mind as you shakily poured water into a glass.

Meanwhile, Aizawa rubbed his palms on his face. He had barely gotten any sleep yesterday and being able to recognize how you smelled of lavender when he entered your home did not help one bit.

Leaning his back on the sofa, his eyes began to wander. The walls were plain and barely any pictures. Save for 3 frames near the TV. Squinting his eyes, he could make out a younger you, smiling widely with your parents. At least he assumed.

“Those are my parents.” You gave him the answer as you placed the glass of water on the table. Returning to your seat, you tucked in a strand of hair and finally gave him eye contact. His blank gray eyes gave nothing away.

“I recall in your file that you don’t have any relatives. For that case, I have already asked permission from Principal Nezu that I can sign the papers, should you grant me authority.” He began to set some papers on the table. Once they were all laid flat, he took out a pen from his bag and placed it beside the papers. “All you have to do is sign this particular file.”

Taking the document, you scanned through the words and absentmindedly nodded. Without taking your eyes from the paper, you reached blindly for the pen.

Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers brush against yours. Tearing your gaze from the file, your eyes followed your arm till they reached your fingertips. In between your index and middle finger, his finger stayed frozen as well. Not one of you budged or flinched. When you looked over at his eyes, they seemed to be calculating and lost in thought.

‘You’re crossing the line, Shota.’ That’s what his mind yelled at him. Yet his body wanted him to just grab your wrist and hold your skin once more. His finger twitched and he managed to feel your skin against his.

Seeing his jaw tighten, you felt brave and imitated his actions. His eyes immediately darted and met yours. A shaky exhale exited your mouth as you felt his finger slowly rising up towards the back of your hand. His eyes never tearing away from you. The way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down only showed his evident lust.

Trembling, you lifted your index and carefully grazed his palm.

‘Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m tracing his palms. Fuck,’ Your heart felt as if it were running miles at the sensation of his skin.

It took all of his will to blink himself back to reality. Clenching his fist, he pulled himself away from you and cleared his throat. His eyes following your hand as you finally grabbed the pen.

‘Why did you do that? Are you that desperate to get under her skin?’ Aizawa scolded himself. He had indulged a little too much. Flexing stomach, he tried to hide his friend before you could notice. He had stepped over the line a little too much for his, or both, of your comforts.

After signing the document, you gave him the paper and made sure your fingers were a safe distance from him. The sooner he was out of your vicinity the better. After a few more instructions, he finally stood up and you accompanied him to the door.

As you trailed behind him, your eyes fell on his nape. Slowly, they fell towards his shoulders. Each little swing of his arm caused his traps to flex. It was subtle but his white shirt gave it away if you knew what you were looking for. Your eyes fell even lower. A satisfactory nod at how his butt was plump. A+ if you could say so yourself.

You flinched when your body collided with his chest. So lost in thought, you failed to notice how he had turned around to face you.

Aizawa couldn’t help but stare at how gradual your face turned a shade of red. The look of embarrassment but a hint of lust present in your orbs. A strand of hair falling on your face. Without thinking it through, he tucked the strand behind your ear.

“That’s what you want, isn’t?” He said as his finger began to trace your jaw. “Aren’t you smart enough to know that I’m your teacher and I’m much older than you?”

Your mind stopped working. There was no way you could redeem yourself from this. Avoiding his stare, you began to chew on your lower lip. Anxiety started to show when your shoulders trembled. Trying to formulate a sentence, your mouth just felt dry and barren.

“(L/N).” His voice stern. “Answer m-”

“Why… Why did you do that with your fingers? Why did you tuck that strand of hair, Aizawa-sensei?” Your voice cracked but the words came faster than you could comprehend. “I know you're my teacher. I just… I can’t help it.”

‘Don’t say the words, Shota. It will only make things worse.’

“Even if I entertained your feelings, there’s no way this will end up on a positive note. You and I both know that well enough.”

‘You should have just kept your mouth shut at this point.’

Seeing that tears were starting to pool up, he let out a sigh and removed his finger from your jaw. He hated himself. He hated himself for not wanting to let go of his touch on you. The only logical thing left for him to do was to turn around, open the door, and leave. But, his feet remained glued to the floor.

“What if you were wrong and all this ends on a positive note?” (Y/N). You’re literally inviting the thought of being expelled at this very moment. By now, your mind was too foggy to think straight. All you wanted was to show this man that maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

“Nothing good comes out with these types of relationships..”

“Then just give me a chance.” You retaliated. “There’s no harm in trying and we don’t have to tell anybody.”

‘There’s a lot of harm in this Shota. This isn’t logical anymore. This is just plain selfish on your part.’ His mind was yelling for him to stop. Yet the fire and determination in your eyes made him think otherwise. At this point, he wasn’t listening to his mind anymore.

It would be a lie on his part if he would say he never took an interest in you. Ever since the UA sports festival, his stare would linger on you and it became his own personal game if he could catch you ogling at him.

Taking one step forward, he saw how your eyes widened with fear and anticipation of what would happen next. Leading you, his gaze tore straight into your soul as your back felt the cold wall in your house. You were now pinned against the wall. Your head tilting upward to look into his stoic face.

‘OH MY LORD. A KABEDON. WHAT THE FUCK?!’ You yelled as your jaw dropped once more. Both his arms now caging your head. He bent his torso to fully take in your flustered face. Your knees now felt like jelly when the tip of his nose began to brush yours. He smelled like mint and rosewood.

Just like that, he released you from his cage and fixed his tie. It took everything in him not to devour you right then and then. Turning around, he ushered himself out. Before taking another step forward, he glanced at you over his shoulder.

“I like cats.” He said.

“What?” You were still recovering from the feeling of being pinned to the wall. Your senses tingled and heat reached the area between your thighs once more.

“You heard me.” With only an inch left of opening, he continued his sentence. “We can start off from there.”

The moment the hatch clicked, you fell to your knees and clutched your chest.

Meanwhile, Aizawa on the other side clenched his fists till his knuckles turned white. He had let himself go. This was bad but now that an opportunity presented itself, he would have to take such necessary precautions to ensure that this situation you found yourselves in would remain hidden.

“Shit.” That’s all he could say.

Taking his phone out, he scanned through his contacts till he reached your name. He didn’t know what went to him but he knew a smirk on his face when he feels it. After typing the message, he hit send and placed it back in his pocket.

Hearing your phone beeping, you hurriedly ran back towards the living and unlocked it. His name appeared on the notification bar. Your cheeks once again felt hot and your heart began to race once more.

‘I’ll call you later.’

Needless to say, he did.

#mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader

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