#why does it have to be slightly askew
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hots for teacher (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
part 2
summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later?
warnings: NSFW content, implied future smut (part 2 on the way??), praise kink, age gap idk
notes: hi everyone! my name is april, and this is my first ever fanfiction. i wrote this for fun and then decided to share it with the community, because i love the little gay women in my phone! i've been reading fics on tumblr for as long as i've been on the internet, so this is a strange experience for me. anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you guys think!
tonight you looked sexy, and you knew it. you wore a sinfully short black dress with colorful butterflies. it was one of your favorites; it showed just the right amount and hugged just the right places to be tantalizing. your eyes were painted with thin black wings and soft, glittery eyeshadow that made you look like a sweet dream. your lips glistened and your hair was tied up in two dutch braids. you were a vision.
all this meant that you were not the least bit surprised when a deep, sultry female voice sounded from behind where you sat at the bar.
"it should be illegal to look like that in public."
you smiled coyly and turned around to face the stranger.
"why? see something you like?" when you turned to face her, however, you were met with a familiar face. it was a face you'd seen in your dreams time after time: your former boss, melissa schemmenti.
you had been assigned to work with melissa as a student teacher while you were in school for your teaching certification. at the time, she was teaching two grades simultaneously, so she was grateful to have you there to ease the burden. it didn't hurt that you were always so eager to please. you wanted to learn and become the best teacher you could be.
of course, your motives weren't entirely pure. you were attracted to melissa from the moment you saw her. you remembered it like it was yesterday: her flaming red hair was slightly messy from trying to wrangle her double class, and her glasses sat askew on her nose. then you came along and turned everything around. she would give you to-do lists, and you would finish them before lunchtime the same day.
"great job, hon! you're so good, don't know what i'd do without you..." she'd say each time, beaming with pride at her new prodigee.
"o-of course, ms. schemmenti. what else can i do for you?" you'd respond, blushing profusely at the praise and struggling to hold her intense gaze.
within a week of having you, melissa was caught up on all her work. she couldn't help but feel like you were an angel, or some kind of gift from god. whatever you were, she cherished you. as the two of you spent more time together, she started to want you more and more. every project, every conversation, every smile you two shared only added to your chemistry.
she had fun with it--teasing you with special pet names and praise, watching you get all flustered and squirmy. she knew you liked her back. you weren't the most subtle about your desire.
melissa would never act on her feelings, though. you were a doe-eyed twenty-something with big dreams, and she was your much older boss. getting involved with you would be too messy. but she always held out hope, even after you left abbott, that one day you'd meet again.
you studied melissa's sly smirk for a moment, in disbelief at your luck. it had been two years since you left abbott. you had your own big girl job now, and you were a bit more mature. there was nothing stopping you from acting on your desires.
"oh my god, ms. schemmenti! please, have a drink with me. it's been a while." you hoped you didn't sound too desperate, although you definitely looked desperate once you got a good glance at her.
her look was striking. your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned her form, dressed in red leather pants and a button-down shirt. her arms were visibly muscled, even through the jacket. the black button-down shirt she wore was unbuttoned just enough to tease her cleavage. around her waist was a thick black belt that you wanted to pull on. her fiery hair was tied back haphazardly in a high ponytail, just messy enough to be sexy. and her hands—god, her fingers were long and ringed and—
"whatever you say, kid," she shrugged and sat down next to you, giving you a playful smile. "and you can call me melissa now."
she had a mischievous glint in her eye, probably knowing how you felt just by the wanton way you stared at her. when she sat down beside you, you felt your whole body heat up. your thighs were almost touching from the proximity, and you could smell her intoxicating perfume with each inhale. feeling her body so close to yours had you more drunk than the alcohol. it didn't help that her eyes now roamed over your body shamelessly, taking in your glistening lips and lingering on your soft cleavage. you tried your best to play it cool.
you talked for a while, catching up on everything. you told her about your new job at a suburban elementary school, your volunteer tutoring on the weekends, your summers in the mountains. she beamed with pride hearing of your accomplishments.
"that's great, y/n! sounds like you're goin' places."
"thank you! i think i owe a lot of my success to my student teaching experience—everyone at abbott was great, including you. especially you," you looked at her with an intense gaze, feeling your desire catch up with you.
"you were such a passionate mentor. you just had this way of getting me excited..." you trailed off as you fixated on the stirrings of a smirk on her face.
"...excited about learning," you finished shakily.
"mm-hmm," she chuckled.
maybe it was the alcohol, or the simple fact that she was right next to you and seemingly devouring you with her eyes, but you became bolder then. you only had one shot at this.
"i mean, you really touched me in a way that nobody else could," you leaned in, dragging out your syllables for emphasis. "i worked so hard because i just needed to be good for you."
now she was the one shuddering. you had the upper hand, if only for a moment. but she quickly got her boldness back.
"i noticed that. always so bright and attentive. i bragged to all the other teachers about what a good girl you were." to top it all off, she punctuated her sentence by placing her hand firmly on your knee.
you thought you were going to explode right then and there. your skin erupted in goosebumps at her touch, and you spread your legs ever so slightly to indicate your consent. her face split into a smug grin and she began to crawl her fingers up your thigh, agonizingly slowly.
your response came as a shaky whisper. you were sure you must have soaked through your panties just from her teasing touches.
"it's good to know that you thought so highly of me. i looked up to you a lot," you said sheepishly. "um, i'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but i did have a bit of a crush on you..."
"oh, yeah. that doesn't surprise me. don't be embarrassed, hon. you can't help what you feel," her hand had stalled at the midpoint of your thigh, and she looked at you with sincerity.
"it doesn't surprise you?" you asked, struggling to get the words out once she resumed stroking your thigh.
"i had my suspicions," she said with a knowing smirk. "i'm sharper than i look, ya know."
her darkened eyes sent shivers down your spine. you felt your core heat up at the humiliation of knowing she knew exactly what you thought about her.
"am i that obvious?" you asked, somewhat breathily.
"oh, sweetheart," she laughed. she leaned in close and you could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. her fingers pinched the skin of your thigh as she whispered to you. "you sat five feet away from me for months, always wearin' those little black skirts. you think i didn't see you rub your thighs together every time i gave you praise?"
her hand now caressed your inner thigh softly, teasingly. you failed to respond, trying to process her words but finding yourself unable to do anything but whimper almost silently.
"so soft here. mhmm," she husked into your ear. there was a hint of giddiness in her voice, as if she was pleased with herself for taking you apart so easily. "does that feel good, princess? do you like it when i touch you?"
"yes!" you said, almost too loudly for the public setting. "yes, i like it very much."
"good," she whispered as her fingers found the edge of your panties. your thighs spread even wider, and you let out a small gasp.
"we've got lots more to catch up on, don't we?" she continued, her fingers drawing feather-light circles over your clit through the fabric. you wondered if she could feel you throbbing for her. your hips bucked up to meet her hand, and she slapped your thigh in warning. "if you wanna keep talkin', we can head back to mine..."
you turned to her with big, glazed-over eyes. still whimpering, you nodded rapidly, earning a laugh from the older woman. she grabbed your hand and guided you out of the packed bar.
"i'm gonna wreck you, hon," she mumbled without looking back at you.
#melissa schemmenti x y/n#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti/reader#melissa schemmenti x you#wlw ns/fw#kinktober#abbott elementary#fanfic
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https://www.tumblr.com/vase-of-lilies/729478267535491072/does-anyone-wanna-send-a-request-for-into-the-tiny
Mmmmmm, how about mommy / mama feeling bad for falsely accusing us and making us cry so they(either of them) feel dejected until we make them cuddle with us because we thought they were still mad at us ?… please?
Assumptions
Pairing: Dark!Mommy!Wanda x Little!reader (f) x Dark!Mama!Nat
Warnings: MD/LG dynamics, Arguing, yelling, feeling bad, guilt, fighting, false accusations, depression, crying, breastfeeding, lactation, cuddles!! this is a dark AU so beware.
A/n: Thanks for sending this in! This is such a cute idea! This kind of hits home, because I have been blamed for MULTIPLE things by my awful step siblings when I was younger. But I’m glad this time it will be Wanda and Natty to comfort us 🥺 I hope it was ok to have just Nat be angry!
It was a series of unfortunate events. One thing lead to another, and soon you found yourself in front of a large mess in the living room of the cabin. You had woken up from your nap, only to find Wanda and Natasha doing work by themselves in separate rooms.
When you left your nursery, your toy lion — Leo — was held in your arms softly and you rubbed the tired from your eyes. A small yawn following. You froze mid step once you saw the disaster in the living room.
The couch cushions were no longer on the couch, the TV stand was slightly askew, the lamp shade was tilted, and what looked like piles upon piles of documents were strewn across the carpet. You didn’t know how to react, only staring at the mess in front of you.
Too caught up in your confusion, you don’t hear the footsteps of your Mama, Nat, behind you. A loud gasp left her mouth as she saw what you were staring at. From what it looked like to her, you had been going through important documents without their permission or knowledge. But that was far from the truth.
“Y/n! What on earth are you doing??” Your mamas voice boomed behind you, startling you and causing your lion to drop from your hands. Nat paced the floor, looking at the papers and their contents.
“My god! Where did you find these?? These were locked!” She continues to shout, and the water works were turned on behind your eyes.
You looked up at Nat, small whimpers turning into cries of false guilt. “I- I- d-didn’ do an-anyfing!” You sobbed, but Natasha wouldn’t have that. She pressed her fingers on the bridge of her nose, her red braid flipping over her shoulder as she looks to you.
“Oh, you didn’t do anything? Really? You think I’m gonna believe a dumb little thing like you?” She shouted back at you, stepping closer to you. You step back in fear. “My keys are gone, and we haven’t heard your little dream sounds on the monitor either. And then I find you here??”
The things she was saying wasn’t like her. She was harsh, but when she knew you were in your little space, she was the most gentle giant you have ever been around besides Tony. But this time was different, because of one simple mistake.
Wanda hears the commotion from the bedroom and she looks over to the small baby monitor on the bedside table. She frowns as the screen blinks a low battery picture, and picks it up. She walks to the living room to find you pushing yourself against the wall while Natasha shouted at you.
Nat hasn’t calmed down yet, and Wanda knew that it could be devastating to your little self to see her like this. “Honey? Nat, baby, what’s going on?” She asked, gently placing her hand on her wife’s exposed shoulder.
Natasha’s head snaps to the source of the voice, and she steps away from your cowering body. “First she stole my keys to my filing cabinet, then she waited until we were busy to come out and read everything! Then she tries to deny it,” She explains. “I knew something was up when I didn’t hear anything from her room. Absolutely nothing.”
Wanda’s eyes widen, suddenly realizing why Nat couldn’t hear your little noises while you were asleep. She holds up the monitor and the blinking battery symbol mocks Natasha’s silence. “Batteries… they died,” Wanda says with a soft sigh.
She looks to the room and shakes her head. “While you and Pietro took her to the park this morning, Tony came by to see what info we had on HYDRAs plan to recapture Bucky. I guess he never cleaned up after himself.”
Immediately Natasha’s arms unfolded themselves and she silently pointed to your shivering and shaking form, facing away from them. She was in disbelief that Wanda never told her about this, and that she somehow was able to avoid the living room all together to even notice what Tony did.
Your Mommy bends down to not be so intimidating to you and takes your hands into hers. “Baby, can you look at mommy?” You don’t listen to her at first, Leo covering your face to hide you from any confrontation. “Tinyyyyyy… listen to me, please.” Wanda said. Hearing her voice turn from concern to demanding in an instant made you pull Leo from your face. “Such a good girl… how about we let Mama cool off, I think she needs some ice cream.”
Wanda looks up at Nat, giving a look telling her to take a walk to calm down. So, Nat holds up her hands in surrender and goes out the back door to the shed to work on her suit and gear.
In the mean time, Wanda gave you a bath, fed you, and read you a few stories. But when your Mama came in, she was in such a different mood. Even though she may have cooled off and the mess was gone, she stilled looked so angry and sad.
Was she still mad at you?
Days went by, and Nat had not even looked at you. Wanda was taking care of you on her own while Nat took care of herself for the time being.
It was a night like every other, but tonight, more tears fell down your face when you were in bed with Wanda, her lullaby lulling you to sleep.
Once you fell into a deep sleep, the next morning came like it did everyday. Bright, early, and loud. You cried for your mommy, hungry for breakfast and needing some love before the day started.
Wanda happily entered your nursery, smiling as she saw you sat up in bed with Leo your hands. She frowned at your expression, more tears on your cheeks and a sadness in your eyes she just couldn’t pinpoint.
Carefully, Wanda sits on your bed with you.
“Are you alright, little one? I don’t like seeing those tears,” she frowns, swiping her thumb across your cheek. You don’t answer her, only crawling into her arms and hiding your face in her neck. Wanda sighs and kisses your forehead, softly rubbing your back to comfort you.
“S’mama still mad a’me?” Your small voice quivers with worry as you ask, not understanding why Natasha was turning a cold shoulder to you.
Now that Wanda has pinpointed where these emotions were coming from, she says “Oh sweetheart, no, she’s not mad at you,” she pauses, tightening her arms around you. “She’s just a little confused, that’s all. Silly mommy forgot to talk to mama and tell her we had a visitor from Uncle Tony.”
Nodding in response, you sniffle softly. Your tummy rumbles and you look up to your mommy. Wanda smiles and gently sets you at the top of your bed again, scooting up to sit next to you. Again, she pulls you into her arms and lifts her shirt over her breast.
She hums softly as you latch onto her nipple, the milk from the pills she took flowing into your mouth. Your hands gently hold her breast, and you close your eyes.
After you’re full, you sit up and start to scoot off the bed. Wanda tilts her head and starts to follow you. “Where are you going, tiny?” She smiles, helping you off the bed when you whimper. Even though you can get off the bed perfectly fine, you still wanted your mommy’s help.
“Gonna go find mama and give da cuddles she need,” you say with determination. Wanda chuckles and takes your free hand.
“Here, I’ll help,” she says, following you as you gently pull her out of the room.
Natasha was at the kitchen table, reorganizing the files that Tony had been looking through and making sure that nothing was stolen. You were nervous to go see her, and Wanda could tell. But she gave you a gentle nudge when you looked up at her, your mama not yet noticing your presence.
You took a step forward, and softly tapped on Nat’s shoulder. The woman turns her head and looks up at you from her spot at the table. You looked at her, and then the papers, and back to her. With lots of bravery, you reach for her hand, holding it and pulling her up.
Nat looked to her wife with a confused expression, a small smile painting her lips too. She followed you as you pulled her to the couch, guiding her to sit. “Tiny, what are you doing, love?” A small chuckle leaving her mouth.
You ignore her question and move to Wanda, pulling her to sit next to Natasha. Now that both women were sat, you climbed onto their laps and settled you bum right between them. Your head lays on Nats chest, and your legs rests over Wanda lap.
“Don wan yous to be mad at me anymow,’” you whisper, tears causing small stains to appear on Nats grey tank top. Her face softens, and her arms wrap around your body, holding you against her.
“Sweet girl, mama’s not angry with you anymore, mama was just busy and hadn’t been able to spend time with you,” she explains, feeling guilty when she heard you sniffle. “I promise I’m not mad, ok sweetheart?”
You nod and look up at her, connecting your lips to hers in a soft kiss. Nat finally understood why you were having a hard time like Wanda told her. She was beating around the bush when she mentioned you weren’t doing well. You were just worried that your mama hated you, and that you were still in trouble for something you didn’t do.
“I’ll be sure to ask before I assume next time, ok?” You nod and smile up at her, kissing her cheek and nuzzling your nose into her neck. The three of you sat on the couch for quite a while, holding each other and reassuring you.
Nat knew she messed up, but she was so glad that you came to her and asked for forgiveness. But she knew better than to allow you to ask for forgiveness, as it was her that should be asking.
And you did forgive her, loving her just the same as every other day you were with them.
#nonnie:)#may answers asks#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#into the tiny verse#the toy lion the scarlet witch and tiny in the wardrobe#wandanat x little reader#mommy wandanat x little reader#wandanat x Barnes!reader
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TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023
This is just me with my analysis hat on.
1. 2023 = the year EVERYONE went outside their lanes
Everything went topsy-turvy this year in BL.
For example, Korea gave us agonized yearning and outright queerness (The 8th Sense, The New Employee) while Japan served up soft office workers and tender family (Our Dining Table).
The BL world went askew for a while, especially in the spring of 2023.
Not that we still didn’t still get Korea’s soft angsty bubbles or Japan’s “what are you doing and why does it hurt?” kink-fests. But there were quite a few BLs that made us chronic watchers sit up in confusion and wonder if Korea was dabbling in Taiwan’s territory or Japan in Thailand’s. Then they fudged the kisses and we were like... okay, back in familiar territory.
In contrast, Thailand stayed course-correcting for the damage they’ve done in the past with tropes (2022) and self referential meta criticism (2021), but also almost aggressively returned to their BL roots after last year’s series of shockers. Certainly, they are reexamining those roots, transplanting some, aerating others. But they really went back to classic Thai university and high school BL and pulps in a big way in 2023.
Taiwan is always difficult to gage because they produce so few but they seem to have stuck with what they do best with no deviation while producing more this year than they have in ages. I’m happy for that, why change a good thing? But there is a tiny part of me that really wants them to hit it out of the part with a quality piece soon. For me, We Best Love still reigns supreme, but I would really like the HIStory franchise to give us that level but longer - like a happy version of Your Name Engraved Herein. I think Taiwan has the chops to give us something as good as The 8th Sense or Old Fashion Cupcake but in their style, and I would like to see them exercise their talent for good rather than just profit.
I know, what a very odd thing for me to say. But if any BL is going to break into the mainstream American market, I genuinely think it’s most likely come from Taiwan.
Vietnam and the Philippines are falling behind, in general. They just didn’t bring out very many shows in 2023, and what the brought out tended to fub the endings. This is forgivable in Japan (because of their style and quality) but not what watchers want in the lower production value propositions. In other words, if you do a pulp, you can’t mess up the ending (by romance standards). that doesn’t look to be changing anytime soon.
2. The Office Romance Dominated
After years of Thailand serving us an endless (and slightly bland) buffet of university (and a few high school) BLs, this year Korea was basically like...
Ofiice. We like the Office. It’s cheap to film we can use grown up actors, acting (mostly) their actual age.
And yeah... it totally worked.
To be fair, Japan has always given us office live action yaoi from the beginning (they had the source material) but this year everyone else, including Thailand, seriously started playing in this setting.
3. Boys Danced with Boys
The darling @heretherebedork was a big fan of this one, and I rather like it myself. Prior to this boys dancing together was very very rare in BL, but this year we got way more than our fair share. It was lovely.
Never Let me Go
My School President
Bed Friend
The Day I Loved You
Step by Step
Be Mine Superstar
Tie the Not
Dangerous Romance
I think there were a few more. These are the ones I remembered to write down.
4. Getting (even more) Meta With Tropes
BL has been getting more and more meta over the past few years but this year they really focused in on tropes specifically. Calling out their own biggest and most favorite tropes in a massive way, especially Thailand and especially GMMTV.
Like they tunneled in on damaging tropes with Bad Buddy and the like over the past 2 years, and now they are just having fun with us.
I mean they just started the dancing trope and already they are calling it out? That’s like rapid-fire regurgitated meta there, GMMTV.
5. Cameos are the norm now
Taiwan has always loved cameos but in the past the other countries have been show and steady with only one or two a year. (Unless Japan does a parody.)
This year Korea got in on the game.
Korea rarely starts trends but they do adopt smaller and lesser known existing ones and make them super popular.
This year they did that with cameo couple appearances, even borrowing a few of Thailand’s pairs (TutorYim and MaxNat traveled north). They did it so much I stopped tracking. Love Class 2, Why R U?, and Jun & Jun were the heaviest hitters.
Taiwan, of course, came back swinging. Kiseki was the gum-ball machine of pair cameos. (In Taiwan mafia = gay.)
6. We are entering the cross pollination age
The number of remakes picked up or started this year was startling, not just countries revisiting their own content (Thailand, Japan) but countries revisiting OTHER countries stuff.
Lemme explain...
Korea has started remaking Thai content (Why R U?) alongside cameo'ing Thai pairs.
Thailand is doing Korean IP (My Dear Gagster Oppa) and has 2 Chinese ones slated for next year.
GMMTV acquired a lot of Japanese IP (Cherry Magic, Ossen, and My Love Mix Up) - and then had problems distributing it.
This is probably the most surprising trend for me. Especially the Japanese stuff. I would have thought these properties well outside of Thailand's price range (even GMMTV's) not to mention Japan’s legendary IP issues (I swear I typed this pout before the pulled TayNew’s excellent Cherry Magic).
Also why not option some of the older popular manga instead? Bet that's much cheeper. (I did see a NEW Thai translation of Finder into Thai, which is 90s yaoi, so I have my fingers crossed on that front.)
I shouldn't be too surprised.
Thailand is running out of y-novel content. Their publication industry is just not robust enough (I was just talking to a friend about this at length recently). But I didn't think they had the funds to option, especially from Japan.
Perhaps the option deals are for peanuts?
7. Korea got cheeky
I’m not sure quite how else to put this.
After finally figuring out boys can kiss, Korea started to do not just higher heat but playful higher heat, with more aggressive word play and linguistic innuendo, like they are entering their racy rom-com teenage years (Why R U? Love Class 2 and Jun & Jun in particular.)
I guess: Welcome to your BL teens, Korea?
It’s cute of them. I am very much enjoying it.
And now that comedy is warming them up, we get to see them play with actual queer burgeoning physicality in shows like The 8th Sense.
It’s nice. I like seeing Korea stretch its wings. They still stick to their bubble, but that bubble seems to be expanding.
8. The Amnesia Trope is back
And I, for one, would prefer to forget about it.
9. BL got trendy
I’m not quite sure how to articulate this category but basically we started seeing a lot of “modern” romance trends out of the west (like a/b/o) show up in our BL. Not a ton and sometimes quite small, but there has a been a steady rise of things like: no seme/uke, femme gay, out gay, condom use, messy gay.
We also got an increasing range of sub genre frameworks (like mafia, office setting) that’s moved BL pretty firmly (even in Thailand) out of school and into the workplace, whether actual working is involved or not.
It’s not to the point where it feels like we get more non-school BL than school BL (if I include all countries in this assessment).
Japan, in classic Japanese fashion, quietly started moving in the opposite direction. It’s what they do.
10. The Vampires are coming
This is an announcement trend, which I don’t usually report on but it’s so CLEAR.
So last year we had a spate of announcements of possible Omegaverse (2 from China, 1 from Japan, 1 from Thailand - the only one that’s happened).
This year we got 5 Vampire (or vampire-esk) Thai BLs announced including one from GMMTV.
Whether all 5 will actually get made is unlikely, but having had (basically) none prior to this (Kissable Lips), I’m pretty confident that we will get at least 2 of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one other country made one as well. (Side eyes Taiwan with interest.)
Final thoughts
It feels like we are also seeing a decline in BL (both by quantity and quality) from Vietnam and the Philippines. As you all know, I don’t track or really watch either of these two very closely. But it feels like, now, no one else is either.
I think we have likely seen the BL heyday already in both places and their industries are now on the decline.
We might be witnessing a thinning in the players in the BL field.
FYI we had approximately
136 BLs in 2023
Previous Years
2022: 117
2021: 95
2020: 62
2019: 40
2018: 30
2017: 44 (China’s last gasp)
2016: 27
2015: 17 (50% micro)
2014: 17 (50% micro)
And that’s it! Let me know in the comments if you’ve spotted any additional trends you want to call out.
Last year, 2022′s trend report
2021′s Trend report
Last Year’s Stats & Predictions
(source)
#bl 2023#bl trends 2023#film trends 2023#EVERYONE went outside their lanes#The 8th Sense#kroean bl#thai bl#The Office Romance Dominated#bed friend#Boys Danced with Boys#the day i loved you#Getting (even more) Meta With Tropes#hidden agenda#gmmtv#dinosaur love#love class 2#jun and jun#We are entering the cross pollination age#why r U?#Korea Got Cheeky#The Amnesia Trope is back#BL got trendy#The Vampires are coming
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burgundy lipstick
masterlist | wattpad
italics dialogue = english
how the dark blood: engene ver. photocard shoot played out
real quick! i personally don't think that neck kisses have to be racy, like a peck to the neck is brief and innocent
but the one i'm referring to in heeseung's relationship with della is the racy one, whoops.
The Dark Blood, Engene's version album. The most anticipated version among fans and the Enhypen members themselves.
The source behind the members' excitement? A neck-kiss that was supposed to take place.
For the photocard, all members but Niki were set to bear a kiss mark on their neck, with Della's lips serving as the boys' human-stamp and whoever wins rock-paper-scissors as Della's.
Yet the execution was cut short. Very short.
"Kiss here?" Della pointed at the side of Jungwon's neck. The first person appointed was decided by the staff. Perhaps Jungwon was chosen because he was the leader.
His coming-of-age could be an alternate reason. Since he is a recent adult, the staff wanted to check if it works with him.
And of course, there's always a possibility of the choice being completely random.
"Yup, just there. Maybe have it slightly askew," as the creative director and Della discussed placements, the young leader grew more nervous at the thought of his first ever neck-kiss.
"Okay, understood," Della mirror-lessly smeared on a burgundy lipstick, smacking her lips at the camera pointed at them. The rest of the members were all watching from afar, trying to be subtle with how excited they are for their turn. "Ready, Wonie?"
"Mm," Jungwon stretched out his neck for easier access. "Della is gonna make a kiss print on my neck," he explained to the future photoshoot sketch viewers.
"We're all friends here," Della clarified. "This is just bros being bros," as if their fans (or anyone) is gonna believe that.
"It's just a print," Jungwon added, immediately holding his breath when Della's head moved close.
"Like this?" Della asked the creative director.
"Uhh..." he stepped back and thought of it for a second. "It might be too sexy actually. It's a little too... suggestive– too grown up" he hissed with a tilt of his head. "Will buttoning up his shirt help? Jungwon, can you button your shirt?" but even with the slight change in wardrobe, the view was just too provocative.
"I think we have to discard the kiss idea and just switch to vampire bites," the creative director decided. "Unbutton them to how it was before and I'll inform the makeup team of the change. Please scrap this from the video," he informed before walking away.
As a leader, Jungwon was just hoping that his hyungs could get it together and not openly show their disappointment.
"I'll get going now," Della bowed her head and left to join the other members.
"What happened?" Sunghoon asked the girl.
"The kiss thing is scrapped. We're getting vampire bites instead," immediately after, the boys let out a chorus of 'ahh..'s.
Jungwon barely managed to hold in a scoff. It's just one tiny neck kiss, what's the big deal?
"Ya– how can they just cancel the kiss after testing it out on Jungwon?" Sunghoon groaned and threw his head back. After the shoots, all eight members were left alone in the green room to prep themselves before heading off, and it seems like the oldest five still held some unresolved feelings.
"They said it was too suggestive and sexy," Jungwon explained. "We all agreed that it is, didn't we?"
"I knowww, but couldn't they just make all of us get the mark first and THEN have it removed?" Sunghoon replied. "And while they're at it, NOT remove it from the behind episode?"
"Why? What difference does it ma–" Jungwon was cut off by Jay.
"It's easy for you to say! You were first up!" he pointed with a grin. Sometimes It's hard to tell whether he's actually serious with the second maknae. He usually gives out a smile while saying certain things. "You could quickly snap a few selfies and post it on Weverse or something. What a missed opportunity."
"What?" Jungwon seriously, truly did not understand what the big deal was.
"That's why I should've been first– they should've gone by age or something." Heeseung added with a sigh, manspreading on the sofa. "Della, darling, come here please," he pat his lap.
"No, you're staying here," Jake wrapped his arms around Della, who was already on his lap. "Hyung, if we went by age then Jungwon will be first anyway since he's leader."
"That's not what he meant." Sunoo pushed Jake lightly with a giggle. "Like actually just age without consideration for leader."
"Ah is that so?" Jake monotonously said. "I want a lipstick print in public mannn!" he groaned out loud.
"I already imagined mine to be around here," Sunoo stretched his collar to show his collarbone. "What do you think, hyung?"
"It doesn't matter what we think if you're not getting it at the end of the day," Sunghoon replied, smirking at the pout the younger let out. "I imagined mine to be near my throat."
"Well it doesn't matter when you're not getting it at the end of the day!" Sunoo fired back with wide eyes.
"Ish!" Sunghoon balled up his fist with a grin. "Ya–"
"I wanted mine to be here, kinda," Heeseung distracted the two by pointing on the spot under his ear, just where Jungwon got his.
"Isn't that your sweet spot?" Jake asked. Della immediately scoffed out a laugh at his remark.
"How do you know where Heeseung-oppa's sweet spot is?" she laughed. The female member will never stop teasing her boyfriends about their never-fully-straight behaviour.
"Anyways! I wanted mine around–" Jake tried to change the subject.
"Aish, get over yourselves, hyungs! I wasn't even set to get one," Niki laid his head on Heeseung's lap. "Stop being so horny," ever since he learned the Korean word for 'horny, he's been constantly using it to tease the older members.
"We're not!" the hyuppas and Sunoo protested.
"With no mark on me, I was gonna look left out of the relationship," Niki muttered and closed his eyes.
"We're sorry, Niki," "We're really sorry, we didn't mean to," the members apologised.
"It's totally cool. Besides, if it's the neck kisses you're after, you could all just ask Della for one like any other day, simple as that."
"Of course! You need to give me some once we get home!" Sunghoon pointed at Della.
"Ya, ya, ya– me too! I want neck kisses too!" Jay sat up straight.
"Of course! You can't just leave any of us out!" Heeseung added.
"Why are you leaving me out then-" Niki was cut off by Sunoo.
"It's not your time yettt." he whined.
During times like these, Della usually stays out of the bickering. She can easily put a stop to it, but where's the fun in that?
Without a word, she got off of Jake's lap and made her way over to Niki, where she placed a chaste kiss on his neck.
"YA, YA, YA, YA, YA! What is happening?!" as his hyungs protested, Niki cheered and pulled Della in for a cuddle. Jungwon, Della and Sunoo were the only ones laughing.
'My men are absolutely adorable,' Della thought.
"You're laying on my lap and you do this to me?!" Heeseung playfully yelled at Niki.
"Maknae on top! Maknae on top!" Niki laughed, pointing at Jungwon and himself. Jungwon clapped his hand as he laughed aloud.
Being up first for the shoot has its perks.
accidentally posted my draft for this and deleted the original ask
check out jungwon’s pov here! (15+? 16+??)
taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @i90snoo @one16core @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint @4sahii @8-itsmee-8 @toriluvsfics ]
#kang della#8th member of enhypen#enhypen 8th member#enhypen ff#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x oc#enhypen added member#enhypen eigth member#enhypen female addition#enhypen female member#enhypen oc#kpop added member#kpop oc#enhypen female oc#enhypen imagines#enhypen poly fic#enhypen poly
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yjw: up first
masterlist | main masterlist
jungwon slowly discovers the pleasures that come with having a partner
contains: what they're doing is sfw! but it contains some spicy talk and some racy action. i guess it's 15+
oh hey guys.. what's up?
yjw
For the whole two years I (well, we) spent with Della, I have never once had any sexual thoughts about her. Not even when I heard the hyungs and her go at it like animals in heat.
I know Sunoo did, which is why he went ahead and did stuff after he turned twenty. We made a pact to not lose our virginity before everyone's an adult, and he took full advantage of the loopholes.
Though I don't blame him anymore, because I get it now.
I don't know what it is but a switch turned on. Everything seems different when you're twenty. Especially everything Della does.
"Kiss here?" Della pointed at the side of my neck. This is our first comeback since I turned into an adult, and they want kiss marks on our necks (excluding Niki). Incredibly suggestive and sexy.
We were initially really against this, but turns out Della would be the one to leave the print, so I guess it's totally fine in the end.
But I'm up first and I've never had my neck kissed. I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's probably similar to a normal kiss, right?
Right?
"Yup, just there," the creative director nodded. "Maybe have it slightly askew."
"Okay, understood," Della nodded, putting on a burgundy lipstick as the cameraman for our photoshoot sketch recorded her. The rest of the members were all watching from afar, trying to be subtle with how excited they are for their turn. "Ready, Wonie?"
"Mm," I stretched out my neck for easier access. "Della is gonna make a kiss print on my neck," I explained to the camera.
"We're all friends here," Della clarified. "This is just bros being bros," she said in English.
Yeah right, like Engenes (or anyone) is gonna believe that.
"It's just a print," I added, immediately holding my breath when Della's head moved close.
When it happened...
Yeah the kiss itself barely felt like much, probably because it was so short.
Though as someone who doesn't understand what being ticklish is like, her breath on my neck left a weird sensation. I couldn't decide if I actually enjoyed it since it ended so quick.
But I wanted more, I needed more.
"Like this?" Della asked the creative director.
"Uhh..." he stepped back and thought of it for a second. "It might be too sexy actually. It's a little too... suggestive– too grown up" he tilted his head. "Will buttoning up his shirt help? Jungwon, can you button your shirt?" from the corner of my eye, I could see the hyungs now openly staring at us.
"I think we have to discard the kiss idea and just switch to vampire bites," the creative director said. "Unbutton them to how it was before and I'll inform the makeup team of the change," damn, I hope the hyungs can control their expressions when the news gets delivered. "Please scrap this from the video," he informed the cameraman before walking away.
"I'll get going now," Della bowed her head and left to join the others.
"What happened?" I caught Sunghoon asking the girl.
"The kiss thing is scrapped. We're getting vampire bites instead," immediately after, a chorus of 'ahh...'s were heard.
I barely managed to hold in a scoff. It's just one tiny neck kiss, what's the big deal?
If it's just one tiny neck kiss, then why are you wanting more?
Maybe it's good that I was up first.
"Hyung," I approached Jay as he was cooking. Deja vu. "Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?" I looked around to make sure no one was hearing.
"Is sex... that good?" what the actual heck, Yang Jungwon. That was not the question I wanted to ask. "I mean! Not sex! But like– l-like.. is there a reason why the hyuppas are so... horny..?" he let out a laugh and ruffled my hair before answering.
"What's got you thinking about this? Are you having dirty thoughts of Della?" I started to play with the sleeves of my shirt.
"The photoshoot yesterday was just... I don't know... Her breath on my neck like that... It just got me thinking," I shook my head. What is up with me. "Like you were all really looking forward to it and I wondered exactly why and figured it had something to do with... sex I guess?"
For God's sake, Jungwon. Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Your girlfriend left a PECK on your neck and now you're seeking advice from your experienced hyung.. again.
"Ahh, well I think that the intimacy of sex is like no other. The pleasure's great and all, it's basically like jerking off but better," he explained everything without halting his cooking. "The intimacy is what's amazing really. You know how good you feel when you make out Della? It's just that but tenfold."
That's... it? I expected him to go on and on about how life changing it is.
"Honestly I'm the wrong person to ask because I'm not as horny as the other three, but!" he stopped a bit to look at me. "I can tell you that you should start off slow. Based on your question, it seems like you've never even experienced neck kisses, and that is almost entirely innocent. You can just start off with that."
"I know that! I'm not gonna get into it and immediately ask for a..." I didn't know what the word was so I just mimed myself pumping an imaginary penis.
"A handjob?" ahh, that's what it's called.
"Mm! Anyway, I was just mostly curious as to why you guys are always getting at it," he raised his hands in defense after my point.
"Eyy, you should ask Della why her libido's so high too! It takes two to tango, you know– well... at least two in our case," ...gross. "–and for the record, the reason why we were bummed about the photoshoot's kiss cancellation was entirely out of possessive reasons like we just wanted to show off how we're Della's."
Well in that case, I'm glad that I went up first for the shoot.
'Just take things slow, Wonie,' Jay's advise was in mind as I approached Della's room. 'Start with neck kisses.'
Should I approach Della and be blunt about this? Should I just pretend like I'm going with the flow and vibe of everything? I usually go with the former but it's also usually never something racy.
I have to admit that I'm a bit envious of how her relationship with the other members have progressed. Our first kiss took place five months into our relationship, and it was only about a year later that we began to include tongue. We're progressing so slowly that even Niki is moving faster. Way faster.
I think I had this preconceived notion that things like french and neck kisses were sexual acts, and I learned very late that it isn't (always) true. Jay said that it doesn't have to be if they're gentle and doesn't contain any provocative intentions.
Well... what should I do? Do I have provocative intentions?
Am I thinking about this too much? Should I just ask her like normal? Is it too weird though? What if she thinks I'm lame? Does she already think that way becau–
My anxious thoughts were cut short when the door suddenly opened to reveal the devil herself.
"Jesus! 깜짝이야!" Della jumped and placed a hand on her heart.
[kkamjjakiya = i'm sure you all know what it means because of jake]
"Sorry! Sorry!" I held my hands up in front of me. "I didn't mean to surprise you, I was gonna knock!"
"No, no, it's fine," she leaned against the door and let out a breath. "What's up?"
"Were you planning on doing something?" please say no, please say no.
"Just wanted to get some strawberry milk, but that's it," oh thank God.
"Can I come in and just chill? I miss you," she let out a smile before coming close to give me a peck.
"Of course, Wonie. I'll be quick," is it just me or does she want me in a different way? Her eyes are looking a little different.
Damn, I guess Sunoo wasn't kidding when he said that everyone has a bit of delusion mixed in them.
As I was left alone for two minutes, I came to a quick conclusion that I should.. start it off? Maybe I should kiss her neck first.
"You're in the mood to cuddle, darling?" Della took a long sip from her drink and joined me on the bed.
"Mmm," I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around her.
"Do you wanna watch something?" I can feel her gaze on my face as her fingers played with the hair by my nape.
"No," I opened my eyes to stare into hers. "I wanna kiss you though," was that too blunt?
"Eh? Do you wanna try something?" darn... she knows me too well.
Your cover's blown, Wonie. Just come clean.
...nah, I'm just gonna kiss her.
I didn't answer her question and just connected our lips together. Her mouth tasted of the strawberry milk she just drank, and her lips were a bit slick from her lip oil.
But yet again, the kiss is going slow like it always is. It's usually how I like it but I'm over it now. I want more.
So I decided to take charge.
I gently pushed her on her back and got on top of her, deepening the kiss and adding tongue. I could feel Della hold her breath for a bit, possibly taken aback from the shift.
This is also a first for us. The only time we've ever hovered the other was for performances.
My hands went from her waist to the sides of her face, really getting into the kiss. She hummed and brought one of her hands to my cheek while the other kept their grip on my hair.
Here goes nothing.
I slowly pulled away and immediately started pressing kisses down to her neck.
From what I've observed (mostly from Heeseung), I'm pretty sure that her 'sweet spot' is located under her right jaw. Otherwise why else would they constantly target the same spot over and over again.
I'm not really sure what makes this spot so sweet and I'm also unsure why everyone's is different. I'm guessing it means the person's ultimate pleasure point.
When I reached it, I started to just gave out small pecks which eventually turned to normal kisses.
I could feel that the vibe was a bit awkward based on how tense Della was. It was as if she didn't want me to kiss her neck.
"Wonie– darling," she pat my shoulder. "Give me a second," but before I could fully pull away, Della had already used her strength to flip us over so she was on top. "Lemme try first," and then she attached her lips to my neck, just like that.
She started leaving open kisses from my Adam's apple and slowly travelling towards the right side of my neck. I didn't realise that I was holding my breath until I breathed out when she reached a certain spot.
Again, I'm not a ticklish person by any means but I'm guessing that this is what it feels like.
But it feels amazing. It's what I imagined having your neck scratched as a cat would be like.
It's really, really nice.
Without even realising it, my throat let out a small moan while my body just stayed frozen in place, unable to fully comprehend what was happening.
She relaxed her posture and focused on that one spot, tilting her head to kiss deeper.
I began to let out soft moans after moans as her tongue swirled around the skin.
"A–ah!" I hissed when she started sucking lightly. "Lala," I start to notice my stiff hands and brought one up to her hair.
"Do you like that, Wonie?" she whispered against my skin. Fuck me.
"Yeah," I breathed out, caressing her hair gently.
"Was this what you wanted to try out?" she giggled in between her kisses. I felt her mouth and tongue circling their way around the area. She wasn't in the exact same spot as earlier but the ticklish feeling was still there.
"Mm," I held my breath as she began to suck some more. I heard her let out a low chuckle.
"Cute," no fucking way.
I immediately placed my hands on her back to turn us over again. Her lips automatically detached themselves from my neck and the surprise was clear in her eyes. Especially when I pinned her hands beside her head like they do in the dramas.
"I'm not cute," I pretty much mumbled.
I caught a glimpse of myself on Della's mirror and quickly did a double take at the sight.
"Oh my God," I whispered in English, stretching my neck to get a clearer look at the marks she left. This actually happened and is actually happening.
"They'll fade away in half an hour or something. I didn't suck too hard," Della bit her lip.
"Thirty minutes, huh?" I looked to the mirror again. "Now that you've taught me, I guess I can suck a bit harder," I turned back and stared into her eyes.
"Gotta make sure the members know what happened."
I'm really glad I was up first for the shoot.
please i hope my creativity is back and is willing to stay
bonus scene in my first acc!
taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach
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kita + you only go shopping at this store because they work there and it's getting expensive BC DUH WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO SEE KITA AND HIS HANDSOME KIND CHIVALROUS SELF EVERYDAY
also in my mind i was picturing some sort of fancy retail store that he works at lolz
The way I had to google retail store, lol
🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓.🍓
STRAWBERRY LOVE - Kita x Reader
"Welcome to Happy Housewife, how can I help you?"
The words are out of Kita's mouth before you're fully through the door. It doesn't surprise you that his smile doesn't slip even when he's presented with you, school uniform a little askew and clearly not a part of the target audience of this store.
"How nice to see you again," he adds, "Did your mother like the napkin rings you bought her?"
"She did," you nod, even though you haven't given them to her yet. Maybe, just maybe, you pretended they were different rings - albeit much too big - and put them on your fingers instead. "But, you know, we have more than two guests at the house. Not right now, but regularly, and we need more than two rings for the napkins, so..."
"Of course, of course," he leads you down the store, past expensive pots and even more expensive knives, past the napkins you've already bought - one each week as an excuse to come back - and past the sweets you bought once only to find out expensive sweets don't taste all that good. "Same design or something else?"
"What do you think?" You ask, wringing your hands behind your back. You want him to keep talking, like to hear his voice every time of the day, but most of all after school.
"Strawberries, was it?" He asks, turning slightly to smile at you. His hair moves with him like clouds of cotton candy and his eyes twinkle a little in the expensive overhead lighting.
"Huh?"
"The last design. Those were strawberries, right?"
You blink, a little flustered that he remembers. You try not to come in too often - especially after you realized he only works on Fridays anyway - but that he remembers your purchase from last week... that's special, right?
"They matched your earrings that day," he points out, turning back again as if he didn't just shoot an arrow straight through your heart.
-
It takes you half an hour to decide between two equally expensive sets of napkin rings. Napkin rings you can't technically afford.
"What do you think of this one," Kita asks when you feel finally ready to pick the sunflower set over the ones with the little cherries on it.
He hands you a little velvet box, the color dark blue instead of the usual dark green the shop uses.
Curious, you open it, only to realize... it's a ring.
And not a napkin ring, but a ring ring, one you put on your finger, with a tiny little strawberry on it. It looks expensive and not like anything you should have in your hands.
"What's-What-What does that mean?"
"I wanted to confess with something proper," Kita explains softly, "Not just chocolate and I heard you mention to your girlfriends that you saw this one at the store but that it was too expensive to get."
"You got me-" You choke on the words, your hands shaking so much you almost drop the box. Kita catches it - his lightning-fast reflexes are no joke - and offers it back to you.
"Why do you think I started working at this store?"
You're speechless.
Kita lifts the box to you and something boyish and insecure moves over his face, making him look younger and softer than he usually appears. "Should I go down on one knee, or?"
"No, no, you don't need to- your pants would get all dirty- I mean, I'd, if you want, I will..."
"Breathe."
You gasp, swallow a mouth full of air and Kita laughs, carefree and open, and takes your hand.
"Do you want to be my girlfriend? I really really like you."
"Yes. I really really like you too."
"I had a hunch, you know," he whispers as he slips the ring onto your finger, "After all, no one needs that many napkins."
My Kofi if you want to tip me
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Yay! Open requests :D may I request octavinelle, but this time reader is THEIR butler instead? I was thinking of an efficient, eye-brow raising, maybe a lil smidgen joke-snarky butler, who is still caring none-the-less, but! wherever your ideas take you personality-wise, i am totally on board! :)) Thank you for everything you write! It's always a joy to see you on the dash :) hope you're having a good day <33
ANON. ANON. YOU’RE ONTO SOMETHING.
I AM LISTENING.
Holy shit this is good food my goodness-
AND YOU’RE SO SWEET THANK YOU Q W Q I’M GLAD I COULD BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY!
I’ll split this into three parts,because I have to pace myself. I have horrible stamina, especially when writting. Hope you don’t mind!
Octavinelle, with a butler!
Part one:
Azul x Butler reader
General neutral reader, but I use butler to describe their job. (Is there a gender-neutral term for butler/maid? Help-)
There’s something to be said, working for the House of Octavinelle.
You always have a underlying sense of unease, treading through its winding halls. Your feet heavy under you, pressing deep into the carpets. These feelings are rather irrational, especially for a butler.
Your duty is to serve. Anything else is irrelevant.
Although those feelings aren’t that unfounded.
You stop in front of a oaken door. Hand hovering over the silver doorknob, a slight chill running through your palm. A premonition of what was to come?
Nonsense. Sheer nonsense. Your masters may be… unique, but they have never done anything to harm you.
Yet.
Pushing open the door, you keep your head bowed tactfully.
“You called, Master Ashengrotto?”
A chair swivels around, a blur of motion. Light grey pupils peer at you behind a pair of crystal clear lenses. Curls of silver run down the left side of his face, swaying with his every movement. He was wearing a shirt , however, the tie seemed to be loosened for comfort. His blazer was hung behind his chair, casting quite the imposing shadow over the room.
Azul Ashengrotto. Head of the family.
“Ah, you’re here.” He runs a hand through his hair, knocking his glasses askew. You sigh, before reaching for his face, adjusting his frames for him. Fingers reaching for the back of Azul’s ears, pressing the glasses in place.
You pull back, taking your spot at the front of the table once more. A light pink dusted his cheeks. Perhaps from the heat. You’ll have to ventilate this room well later.
“You called, did you not?”
Azul’s hands raise up in a gesture of surrender.
“So I did.”
You straighten your back , tilting your head slightly. Prompting him to spit out whatever he had on his mind. Time was rather precious, both to him and you.
A moment of silence, before you spoke up.
“Might I inquire why you require my presence?”
A laugh, tinged with an underlying melancholy. Bitter, hidden behind a facade of amusement.
“Does there always have to have a problem for me to wish for your presence?”
An raised eyebrow, you stare at him.
“What else would you require me for then?”
Rising from his chair, Azul takes hold of your hands. Clutching them tight, his fingers creep into yours. Intertwining with your gloved fingers, a shockingly intimate gesture.
“Is it so hard to think that I simply miss you, my dear?”

#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#lucky potion🔹#azul ashengrotto#Azul Ashengrotto x reader#twst Azul#Azul x reader#butler reader#butler au#Azul x butler reader
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Polk has some WORDS for me about leaving.
I doubt actually that they even remember why they're being so clingy at this point, they're very sweet but they don't have long memories. Still, they definitely know that today is Be With Dad Day. Polk follows me around and anytime I'm about to sit anywhere she does a running leap to get there first so when I sit down she'll be close enough to beg for pets or harangue me (see above) if I don't give them promptly. This worked great when I needed to use the bathroom, let me tell you.
Dearborn meanwhile, not normally a cat who likes to sit on laps, will wait roughly ten seconds for me to get settled and then either clamber up onto the nearest part of me, or situate herself so she can press her butt directly against the back of my head.
I missed them but also I would like to stop having to detach various cats from my person for five minutes.
[ID: Polk the tabby is standing on the back of the sofa, head turned to regard the viewer; her ears are slightly askew, making her look irritated, and her mouth is open as she harangues me for daring to remove myself from her sight for ten seconds.]
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For obvious reasons I’m obsessed with transmasc Levi. You write him perfectly. Would you write something cuddly and cute about him with g/n afab reader? I love your writing 🧡
Also i hope you are well.
YES!! thank u <33
➥ pairing: transmasc!Captain!Levi (on T, no surgery) x gn!afab!reader
➥ c/w: established relationship, snuggling, fluff, sleepy levi is best levi
➥ wc: 0.5k
A normal person, if it was a big meal, might be tired enough to climb into bed after dinner to rest for a while.
But Levi is not a normal person. It looked like he was waging an internal war at his desk chair a little earlier, so you humored yourself (and annoyed him) by dragging him to bed—at least to lay down for a few minutes.
Now those minutes have passed and no one seems interested in moving. With a thin quilt snuggled around you both and laying under Levi’s chin, your foreheads touch where you lay intertwined. The lines around his heavy eyes are softer like this, closed and relaxed. His bangs are parted oddly, and a little smushed into the pillow, nearly obscuring one eye. It’s a pleasant rarity to observe him like this.
Maybe looking at him is even making you sleepy. Besides the perpetually cold temperatures make you yearn to snuggle with your own personal fireplace like you are now.
Winter has also made the days short. The sunset is a ghostly, retreating light creeping through the slits in the blinds. Otherwise Levi’s bedroom is dim.
You snuggle closer until your arm can wrap around his back and tuck your face in his shoulder.
"It's hot," he grumbles as he puts his arm around you. His lips pull down slightly.
"Ugh... But you're so warmm..."
"I’m aware... Now be quiet. Tired."
Tired?
You smile to yourself as the quiet stretches on. And the longer it does, his breaths slow, the more disbelieving you become. You lift your head just enough to see his heavy eyes are still closed.
You press your forehead to his. “I’m not complaining, but… I can’t believe my eyes. Are you really about to fall asleep right now?”
His eyes crack open. “Don’t be stupid,” he grunts, and buries his face more into his pillow, obscuring one eye. A moment later, the one you can see inches shut.
He still seems to register what he said, though; he makes an annoyed sound and rolls onto his belly, firmly planting his face in his pillow. “Stop being creepy.”
A bit more than a few cowlicks leave his hair all askew. His cheek is left a bit squished over his crossed arms.
You laugh at this, leaning over to stroke his soft hair back into place. Apparently he was tense before; he utterly melts under your touch.
“Stop, I’ll fall asleep,” he mumbles. “And it’d be all your fault.”
You smile serenely. “I’ll take all the blame.”
“Hn? Don’t sound so serious all the sudden…”
“I’m dead-serious.”
“No.”
“...No?” you laugh incredulously. "Why no?"
He pouts into his arm. Utterly adorable. “…Because I said."
"Hm..." You shuffle closer as you pretend to consider his argument. "Can I nap with you at least?"
"I don't nap," he grumbles again, squirming onto his side away from you. He reaches back, aiming in your general area. You lean away on purpose.
He shoots a tired scowl over his shoulder. "You brat. C'mere already."
Beaming now, you snuggle up to him so that your front is against his back you protectively cradle him to. He's like a furnace. Instantly snug and warm, you smile into his hair.
He sighs, deep and sleepy and serene.
Levi masterlist | main masterlist
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi x y/n#levi x you#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman fluff#captain levi x you#captain levi x reader#trans levi
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A TURN OF PRIORITIES . PART 1 | BANG CHAN
Synopsis: What happens when you and Bang Chan decide to fake a relationship for the sake of making your ex-boyfriend jealous? A turn of priorities, that's what.
Genre: fakedating au! Bestfriend geeky, dorky chan x popular f!reader, stereotypical, fluff, a bit of angst
PART ONE . PART TWO
----
It always amazes how quickly people seem to move on from love, or relationships, in general.
That’s the reason why you’ve been staring down a certain quarterback since the start of the soccer semi-finals in honor of the College cup being hosted around the country for all universities.
It’s seven on a Tuesday evening and rain is drizzling over the bleachers, onto the people, and getting into your hair. The hair that you’ve wasted thirty minutes straightening, only to have it frizz up with that sort of moisture. It’s almost impossible to tame it down. It’s got a life of its own.
As if that helps with the sudden overload of problems getting stacked up in a pile a mile high right before your eyes. Your ex-boyfriend, looking as gorgeous as ever and providing his constant lip service to his fans, now has his arms wrapped around one of the cheerleaders whom he’d claimed only weeks before as “just friends and nothing more.”
Ha. What a joke. You were the joke.
Tears burnt at the back of your eyes and you have to look away, blinking angrily into nothingness as your eyes struggle to glaze over with emotion. You can’t lose your cool. Not here. Not now. After all, it’s bad enough everyone on campus got to witness your break-up in a manner reminiscent of that of a pop-star’s, what with Lee Minho walking away from you as if he’d never had a care in his world and that he couldn’t care less how much of an asshole he seemed to be in that very moment he’d decided to dump your sorry ass.
“Got a place for me?”
Turning and quickly rubbing at your eyes with your coat sleeve, you catch sight of your best friend — as geeky as usual — struggling to hold two popcorn bags, a hotdog, and diet coke bottles, his glasses slightly askew and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Did you just wake up?” You can’t hide your horror at his choice of attire. A bedraggled shirt wrinkled in too many places to count, grey sweatpants and jogging shoes that seemed to have seen better days. He just grins bashfully in response, handing you the popcorn before he pushes through the throng of people to get to your seats.
“Sorry. I completely forgot the time,” he pushed his glasses up using his elbow. Setting down the coke as he takes his seat, he doesn’t hesitate to bite into his hot dog, moaning in bliss as he does so, “damn, hot dogs sold at soccer games are the best. There’s just no way you can beat that.”
“It’s just a hot dog.”
“Yeah," he looks at you, offended, "but it’s sold at a soccer game.”
“And?”
“And that automatically enhances its taste, no questions asked.”
You shake your head, though it’s impossible to hide the smile growing on your lips, “you’re an idiot, Bang Chan.”
"And you, my dear friend Y/N, should start living a little," Chan leans forward in his seat then, an overexcited pup as the whistle signals the start of the game, "what are the chances of us winning this time?"
You roll your eyes, "I don't know. I don't care."
"You don't care because your Ex is playing," he points out, "so you'd want him to lose, ideally."
"In all honesty? Yes."
He chuckles and takes another bite of his hot dog, "always the pessimist."
At your age, it's surprising that you and Bang Chan have stayed friends all throughout your middle and high school years. Friends come and go, drift off when your interests and priorities changw in life. Yet, somehow, Bang Chan had always seemed to be present and everlasting. He's the harbour which you float back to when you feel lost out at sea despite being complete polar opposites.
It's an understatement to say that your friends dislike Chan. They don't dislike him per say. They just don't understand him.
"What do you have to talk about with this guy, Y/N?" They would snigger amongst themselves whenever he'd drift away to get some more food, "he's weird."
"He still reads comic books."
"And looks up marine animals in his free time."
"What's wrong with marine animals?" You can't help but ask at the absurdity of their questions, "I like dogs. So what?"
"Yeah but you're not like, obsessed with them," one of your friend wrinkles her nose like she's smelling something disgusting, "and plus, he's so awkward. I can't stand the way he makea eye contact with me every time we spend more than five seconds together."
Maybe it is the fact that you've known Chan forever that silence with him doesn't bother you the slightest. It's been routine for the past few years after all, with him doing his own thing and you lost in your own world.
"Oh! Score!" Chan suddenly jumps up aa the board blinks like crazy and the crowd roars. The speakers boom out with the MC's voice:
"Aaaand it's a score for the Riverland Snakes! It's now one to zero folks and what a beautiful start to the first college league game!"
Cheerleaders deploy across the field like a pack of hyenas in bright clothing, screaming out each player's name between their kicks and summersaults.
Your gaze catches your ex-boyfriend's figure across the field and it's no surprise he's all smiles.
"I thought you said our first opponent was good," you lean in to whisper into Chan's ear.
"Well yeah but maybe they're having an off season or something," he shrugs, "who knows?"
Indeed. As the Riverland Snakes keep on scoring goal after goal with minimal, the more your heart drops in your chest like someone just punched you. It stings and the hatred, all the loathing, seems to pour out of you in waves.
You hate this.
You hate being here.
Another goal for the Riverland Snakes. Another score that gathers a loud cheer.
A goal for the Thundering Tigers.
2-1.
And then, the whistle. Signalling the end of the match.
You don't want to watch. But you do, eyes raking over Minho's figure as he runs to his teammates and gathers them up in a ceremonial hug while the rest of the crowd pulses forward like an army of ants. Thre excitement buzzes in the air, overlapped with joy pulsing through Riverland students and it's too much, too much that you turn to Chan to tell him you're leaving--
Only to see Minho wrapping his arms around a girl.
Not just another girl. A friend. Your friend.
Her dyed auburn curls are shining, her head thrown back in laughter as Minho easily picks her up and gives her a twirl.
Then they kiss. And you feel like your entire world falls apart.
————-
“You can’t hide forever.”
You bury your head even deeper into the covers, snuggling into your pillow in hopes that Chan’s voice disappears at some point. This is how you’ve spent the last four days, rolling around in bed and barely cooking yourself anything, showering only when you need to, going to the toilet only when you need to. For the rest of the time, your eyes are glued to the ceiling. Numb. Filled with thoughts about where this possibly went wrong. And why, why out of all people, had he decided that it had to be her?
“Y/N,” Chan sighs on the other side of the door. Screw it. You wish you hadn’t given him the spare keys to your apartment. Back then it had sounded like a good idea, Chan being responsible and all, “you can’t hide in there forever.”
You turn away from the door, groaning.
Maybe if you ignore him he’ll go away. That’s what you’ve been doing all this time after all. He hadn’t had the bravery to break these boundaries yet.
“Y/N, I’m warning you. I’ll open the door if you don’t answer.”
Ha. As if. You don’t believe a word he says. You huff a little to yourself.
“Alright then.”
And the door is flung open. Yelping in shock, you bound up from your bed to look at the doorway where Chan stands, his hands filled with grocery bags with an expression that doesn’t seem all too impressed. As if on instinct, your body curls in on itself and you tug the blanket up to your chin, shrieking, “I didn’t say you could come in!”
“Well you weren’t answering so I had to check if you were still alive in there,” he says without missing a beat. One would think that Chan’s the kind of guy to be completely comfortable in just waltzing into a girl’s room, but his ears are flushed red, as is his neck. And he avoids making eye contact with you. Instead, he focuses on rummaging through the bags like it’s his sole mission, “I bought you food, snacks, toiletries if you needed them. Wasn’t sure what you were missing since you’ve been ignoring me all this time—“
“I really can’t do this right now,” you flop down on your bed and turn away from him.
“Are you sure? I brought you a donut.”
You freeze in mid-roll. Donuts. That sounds nice. You’ve always had a thing for donuts. The glaze, the chocolate filling inside, the crispy softness of the dough…that’s enough to make your mouth water.
No. You’re not to fall for his stupid plan.
“I don’t want your stupid donut,” you mutter half-heartedly.
“Are you sure?” You feel the bed dipping underneath Chan’s weight as he sits on the edge. There’s an amused tilt to his voice, “I bought the one from Krispy Kreme, the double chocolate one with chocolate filling. It’s even got those little nuts on it and a caramel glaze—“
The blanket is jerked off as you swivel around to face him, “fine, fine! You win! Where is it?”
Chan barks out in laughter while he hands you the packet and you don’t hesitate to rip it from his grip, inhaling the sweetness of the donut. You take a huge bite out of it and a burst of chocolate and caramel flavor spread across your tongue in delight.
You moan, “this is so worth seeing your face.”
“I’m not sure I should take that as a compliment.”
“It’s not,” you swallow and take another bite. The nut crunches and mixes in with the amazing chocolate filling that oozes along your tastebuds. Chan, meanwhile, is gazing up at you with fondness in his eyes. He’s always looking at you like that, especially when you’re eating donuts. He says there’s something that is really satisfying about watching you enjoy your food. Maybe it’s because you’re never that keen on food unless it’s sweet and bad for your health.
“How are you?” He ventures after some time.
You snort to hide the sadness that suddenly comes seeping in, “how do you think I am?”
“Horrible, from what I’m seeing.”
“Exactly.”
“I just don’t understand,” something catches in your throat. Your eyes sting, burning, “I thought she was my friend. I thought he loved me. It just sucks.”
“Yeah,” Chan mumbles back, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” You try to laugh, though it sounds hollow, “you didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”
As much as you initially hate the fact that Chan has managed to infiltrate into your house without warning, you have to admit it feels nice to have his company around. He volunteers to cook you lunch and shoves you into the bathroom while he puts your laundry into the washing machine. You spend that time scrubbing down your body and giving your hair a nice wash until your scalp is red and your mirror has fogged up. Towelling your hair dry and putting on some fresh clothes does make you feel marginally better, and when you pad out into the kitchen your stomach rumbles as the smell of bacon and eggs waft through the air.
“Breakfast is ready,” Chan grins at you, “you look like you’ve just revived from the walking dead.”
“Thanks. And you should stop commenting on my appearance. You know girls are sensitive to this kind of shit?”
He whacks you with his oven mitten, “stop being so vulgar.”
The rest of the day is spent lounging in the living room and binge-watching the series of Stranger Things that for some reason, has Chan really addicted. You’re not quite certain why he loves it so much, but you endure through it anyway, knowing that the distraction is good to keep your mind off things that would make you cry and break stuff otherwise.
But at some point during the afternoon, you find yourself re-thinking about all the things that could’ve gone wrong. Is it something to do with the way you loved talking things out instantly instead of just brushing them aside? What had Minho found in her that he couldn’t find in you? And why…why did she decide to go behind your back? The betrayal hurts more than the actual break-up.
Chan encourages you to come back to school the next day and you reluctantly agree after some persuasion that you’ll grab some more donuts after your last lecture. That motivation doesn’t last very long. It’s hard just to put one foot in front of the other, and you’re barely out of the house. Every step hurts your pride, makes your heart shrink even smaller inside your chest, and you feel like you can’t breathe.
The world, however, seems to love conspiring against you. That comes into the form of the one who'd been kissing your ex just a few days ago.
"Y/N, can we talk?" Lee Minji slots an arm through yours as you walk to your computer science lecture.
You shrug her off like she's the plague, glaring at her, "what do you think you're doing?"
"What?" She laughs, "Y/N, it's not like I committed a crime or anything--"
"He's my boyfriend!" You burst out.
"He was your boyfriend."
For a minute, all you can do is stare each other down.
Anger bubbles through you, burning your insides.
"I can't believe you," you grovel out through gritted teeth, "you--I thought you were my friend."
"I am! It's just--things happen Y/N, I can't control who I fall in love with," guilt washes across Minji's festures as she reaches for your arm once more, "please, can we just talk it over?"
You want to. You really do want to hug her and cry it out, and then everything will be fine and normal again. But just the thought of her and Minho together has you wrenching out your arm in disgust.
"Get the fuck out of my face," you snarl out.
Then, before she can say anything else, you're whipping around and walking away as your heart collapses.
You barely make it to the end of the road before you lean over and break down crying.
-----
"Just do it," you hiss at Chan, aware of his fluttering hands at your waist, the hitch in his breath, the way he tries avoiding your eyes.
You're in the middle of the dance floor in the university gym, streamers of white and blue adorning the ceiling as couples sway along to the romantic music booming through speakers that have seen better days.
Never in your right mind would you have made it to this kind of ball. It's not your thing. But all of that had changed a few days ago when an idea had popped up.
"You want me to what?" Chan's mouth had opened in shock at your suggestion, which you'd merely ignored.
It had been on impulse to attend the celebratory dinner organized by the football team. But your pride couldn't let it go; that Minho and Minji would spend the entire evening cuddling without remorse?
My ass they will, is what you thought.
Which is why you dragged Chan along for the ride despite his initial reluctance, grumbling all the way into the parking lot. He'd kept on insisting how bad of an idea it was, which merely spurred on your intent even more. To find Minho and make him regret having walked away from you.
That is how you find yourself attached to Chan, pressing yourself against him as if your life depends on it when you notice Minho lingering by the doorway with his friends, his profile leaning towards the dance floor so that you're in his full peripheral view if he merely moves his gaze up.
"Just hold me," you hiss at him through gritted teeth, pushing yourself even closer if that's possible.
There's a slight hesitation before Chan's arms wrap around your frame. Your nose brushes against his nape, causing you to get a whiff of his boyish odour mixed with deodorant. It feels nice, not completely comfortable, but nice.
In the background, you hear the music switch to a softer groove, a slow orchestra accompanied by a deep tenor.
I've never been the type
I've never fed a line in my life
The music pulses, echoes through the crowd like a magic spell and for a minute, you allow your head to fall onto Chan's shoulder as your feet shuffle to the beat.
Let's be squares in a round world,
Let's be squares in a round world, baby
Let's be squares in a round world,
Let's be squares in a round world,
"Is he even looking?" Chan mumbles into your ear.
You spare them a glance but it's too dark to tell, "it's fine. Just make as if you're saying something very funny," and then, you throw your head back to laugh aloud, "HAHAHA! How funny Chan!"
"Shhh!" Chan shields your body, pivoting you around so that his body shields yours, "you are so embarrassing."
You don't have to see him to know he's blushing down to his toes, "I'm trying to stay in character."
"I'm never coming to help you ever again."
"Nobody cares Chan, it's fine."
The music ends and he's quick to drag you off with the exvuse that he's thirsty, and while he's away finding you drinks, your eyes impulsively find Minho's across the dance floor.
Something flashes in his eyes when he notices you, something unreadable, and then he looks away as if embarrassed.
Embarrassed...by what? By the fact that he's now shoving his tongue down your friend's throat? Or that he can't stand the thought of seeing you with another guy?
"Hey," a cup presses against your cheek. You turn your head to find Chan, grabbing the cup from him as he settles upon the bleachers beside you.
"Thanks," you say, "and not just for the juice."
"You owe me. Big time."
"I know."
"Do you think it worked?"
"What?" You raise a brow.
"Do you think you managed to rile him up?" Chan glances over in Minho's direction. The latter is flankes by Minji and two other guys engaged in conversation.
Something in your heart tightens at the way her hand is lingering along his forearm.
Pressing your lips, you allow your gaze to tear away before it causes any more damage, "I don't know," you confess softly, "I don't know whether it's hurting me more."
He makes a sound of acknowledgement. Your hesrt squeezes tightly in your chest, eyes stinging with sudden tears.
"I--I need to go," you murmur, already striding towards the exit as Chan scrambles after you, "wait, Y/N--"
You don't listen. You don't want to.
You can't.
It hurts too much.
---
"Congratulations!"
Those are the words flung in your face the moment you step into the dining hall. Minji stands, lunch bag in hand and a huge grin dancing along her lips as if your argument had never occurred in the first place.
You blink, knowing that you should still be mad at her. Then brush past her to find a free table.
She follows, not deterred by your coldness, "I didn't know Chan was your type. You guys seem so cute together though."
"What?" You turn in surprise, and her smile widens, "I knew it! It's true! You are going out with Chan!"
A bit perplexed by her train of thought, you scramble for a coherent response and blurt out without thinking, "yeah. Yeah I am," your voice is still cold, "why? You're going to steal him too?"
You feel like kicking yourself when her face falls and hurt replaces it.
"I'm sorry," you mutter, averting your gaze and sitting down at the table, "it's just--"
"I understand," she cuts you off, takes a seat right next to you. The kindness radiating from her is so overpowering you don't have the strength to push her away, "i'm sorry, Y/N. I never wanted it to be like this. Trust me, Minho feels the same."
"Yeah, sure."
A weird ache settles in your chest as you eat with Minji and talk of stuff that you don't really care about. She's being extra careful to please you and you can feel her guilt glimmering through every glance she sends your way. But though you want to be mean, you want her to suffer, you find that you don't have the heart to.
"Oh! I have chem next," she quickly packs up her bag and you inwardly let out a sigh of relief. God, you're glad this is over.
You watch as she slings her backpack over her shoulder, sends you another shy smile and says, "see you after? Maybe?"
"Uhm..."
"How about coffee? From Paul's?"
The look on her face deflates the anger in you. You find you cannot say no, "I'm--"
"Please, Y/N."
Biting your lip, you mumble your agreement.
The smile she sends your way is dazzling. Almost too much.
Sometimes, you wonder whether you're just too nice for your own good. Or whether you're just plain stupid.
In any case, things just get progressively worse throughout the day; you're stopped countless times either to be congratulated about your newfound relationship, or asked whether the rumours about you and Chan are true. You confirm their suspicions, though quite unsure how that newfound information should evolve. You decide to scurry towards Chan's flat the moment your last lecture ends.
"Ah you've heard?" He asks the moment you step into his mini foyer. He's just bathed, now drying off his wet strands using his towel, "the entire school is raving about it."
Checking your inbox and noticing the spam messages from your friends confirm his assumptions.
"Right, well," you settle at his table, munching from his already-open crisps packet as you cross your feet, "at least we know Minho's aware of it."
"Uhuh," Chan pulls out the lasagna from the oven, his dinner for the night. Yours too, now, "we need to talk."
"About?" You raise a brow.
"If we're going to fake date to make Minho jealous, we should have a plan."
"Okay," you drag the word out, "and what exactly are you implying?"
"We don't have to act like a couple unless he's around," Chan starts ticking things off his fingers, glasses sliding along the tip of his nose as he does so, "I'm not comfy with PDA so if we keep it minimal, that would be best--"
"You're such a wuss."
"Shut up," he snaps, "do you want to make him jealous or not?"
"Fine fine," you wave at him to continue and he serves you a portion. It's unconscious and natural, since you're always pigging out on his food, "anything else?"
"I particularly don't enjoy hand-holding. So if we could find an alternative--"
"You can't be serious," your laughter stops midway upon noticing that he's not laughing with you, "it's just hand-holding!"
"I don't like it. It makes me nervous."
"Alright," you roll your eyes, "keep going."
"No kisses. Arm around shoulders or neck is fine, but that's it. No pet names 'cause that's embarrassing, and please, please don't make me go to this horrid campus parties that your friends are obsesses with."
"Jeez," you let out a whoosh of air, "no wonder people don't want to hang out with you. Are you just as weird with them?"
"I call them boundaries. They're healthy and they make me feel good."
"Sure, whatever babe."
He flushes, swats at you like you're an annoying insect, "I said no pet names!"
"Aw bunny, look how cute you are being embarrassed and all."
Your laughter merely erupts tenfold the redder he becomes, mumbling to himself why he's even trying to help you out when you're doing nothing o help him back. It's clear though, that he's got a soft spot for you. Chan always has, especially when you need him.
You really hope that this fake-dating works out. The quicker the better. Just enough that it makes Minho realize his mistake.
"How long do you think it'll take for him to cave in?" Chan asks as if he's just read your mind.
"As long as it takes."
You really hope it's sooner rather than later.
-----
A/N: Part 2 will be up after this so don't forget to stay tuned and let me know if you wanna be added to the masterlist! Not sure how many parts there will be yet (maybe the 2nd part is the final hehe) but we'll see. Thank you so much as always, for reading my words and connecting with me, a part of myself xx
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08:57AM | HAITANI RINDOU
Rindou feels lame. Lame and silly and quite sick with himself in fact. He feels lame when he deliberately leaves his tie slightly askew just so you can pull him back at the front door to fix it, clicking your tongue affectionately and muttering about how forgetful he is under your breath. And he’ll smile warmly, hoping that blush that seems to betray him at every opportunity is somehow hidden by the soft strands of lilac hair framing his face, hoping that since you’re looking down, you can’t see the way his throat bobs up and down in tandem with his racing heartbeat, and hoping that you’ll trail your hands down his chest when you’re done and smile brightly at him.
Rindou feels lame when he wakes early, horribly and catastrophically early, just to watch the dappled sunlight pour through the window, leak through the blinds and fall in shafts on your sleeping form. When he hears the songbirds just outside and leans over to wrap an arm around your torso, burying his nose in your hair, curling around you, slotting against your body like he belongs there. Your hair will fall back around the shell of your ear and Rindou will press a feather light kiss to the nape of your neck, light enough to keep you asleep, your eyelids fluttering.
Rindou feels lame, extremely lame in fact, when he scours the baking aisle at the supermarket, a list in one rough and calloused hand, a basket in the other, surveying the shelves for the right icing he knows you like, dropping the lemons into the basket with a thunk. He bakes the cake, fails four times, and the fifth attempt is only barely passable and yet the time spent doesn’t feel wasted. Why would it? Your birthday is a special occasion and yes he could just as easily order something extravagant, have something made that costs more than a week's wages had it been anyone but him but he doesn’t. The morning spent cleaning up after his own messy endeavour is worth it when he sees the smile on your face that evening, your eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘Did you make this Rin?’ you say, using your spoon to scoop up the clotted cream and icing pooling on your plate.
‘That obvious huh?’ Rindou waits expectantly, the candles flickering, casting shadows on the wall, your silhouettes painted on the wallpaper as you sit around the small breakfast bar in your kitchen. Rindou wishes he could give you something better than this makeshift candlelit dinner at night, when both of you are exhausted and your limbs are heavy with fatigue, eyelids drooping, but fighting to stay open just to clutch onto those extra moments of staying awake for each other.
‘No actually. I love it, Rin.’ You beam up at him and even though it's late, even though his body and mind feel like two pools of sludge, his heartbeat still thumps loud against his ribcage. Funny how you can make him feel like this after five years of marriage. He skips out on telling you how many times he attempted it. He does have some pride after all.
It’s perhaps a small moment, but the significance of it is not lost on either of you. He knows it bothers you that he works so much, that he's hardly here to give you the attention you deserve, that some nights are spent alone, shifting a hand across the cold side of the bed, the place where he should be, where the linen is uncrinkled. He knows you don't complain about it, about the long hours, the unpredictable and dangerous lifestyle but that it worries you all the same. He sees it when he drops his jacket on the sofa after a hard day, and you frown as you run a tentative finger over the cut of his cheekbones and his lips which are parted and pink and slightly dry with dehydration. You click your tongue and shrug him out of his clothes and pretend not to see the smudges of red on the white shirts. You’ll trail your hand over the bare expanse of his chest, his stomach, even further, and Rindou’s head will fall against your shoulder at the brush of your cold hands on his hot skin.
Rindou feels especially lame when he catches himself daydreaming during a meeting, staring at you as you fuss in the foyer just outside, bouncing your baby on your leg as you chat animatedly with the receptionist, your cute sundress flaring at the waist and Rindou thinks about trailing his hands along your arms, your thighs, dipping them against the curve at the small of your back, pulling you close to him and marveling at how you and him just seem to fit like puzzle pieces. Mikey suddenly sounds very far away, his voice a warbled drone thrumming underwater and Ran kicks Rindou under the table when he sees his Brother becoming just that little bit distant. A craning of his neck around his chair tells him exactly why and he follows Rindou’s line of vision till he sees you laughing with your head thrown back, exposing the smooth column of your throat to the light.
‘Oi!’ Ran hisses under his breath and kicks Rindou under the table.
‘What do you want?’ Rindou’s stare snaps in two as he turns to glare as his Brother.
‘Pay attention!’
‘I am! What’s your problem?!’
‘No you’re not,’ Ran says through gritted teeth, stamping on Rindou’s foot. Not enough to hurt of course, just enough to get the point across. ‘I can see you staring at Y/N!’
‘Leave me alone!’ Rindou says sourly, ashamed at having been caught not only by Ran but by Mikey when he looks up to see his boss raising an eyebrow at him over his sheaf of papers.
'Something wrong?' Mikey asks and Sanzu only snickers at Rindou's flushed cheeks.
'No Boss,' Rindou says and pulls his chair closer to the table, choosing to ignore Takeomi's smirk in the process. 'Continue.'
Rindou feels very lame, embarrassingly lame, as he slots his lips against yours, dropping his head to the dip in your chin to press a feather light kiss on the indentation in the middle. You’re dancing in your cramped apartment kitchen at 2AM and even though you can still hear the raucous laughter of party-goers outside, the clank and thud of your neighbour ‘s bed hitting the wall as he moving in his sleep, the only thing you have the energy to focus on is Rindou's heartbeat under your cheek. His hands are on your hips, skimming the skin between your pajama bottoms and the oversized shirt you stole from him and he closes his eyes briefly when he feels your hot breath kiss the curve of his collarbones. Both of you are clad in loose pajama’s, hair messy, eyes droopy with fatigue and yet neither of you feel the need to move or sleep and disturb this blanket of peace.
You lean up, press your lips to the column of his throat, his tattoo bobbing up and then down. The air is permeated by loud silence, and you sway, not all together in time to Chopin's nocturne op.9 no.2, playing from the speaker. His hair tickles your nose every time he bends to press his lips to the crown of your head and it's so tender and soft, so full of love and unspoken understanding, the air heavy with the weight of the years between you, and yet you feel just right, closer to peace than you ever have.
‘I love you,’ you whisper against his chest, your eyes brimming with tears, and you hope your baby sleeping in the next room doesn’t wake with the gentle melodic timbre of song drifting through the wall. ‘I love you so much.’
If your heart could physically burst, it would.
He smiles, a warm genuine smile and the dimples set in his cheeks are two crescent moons as he holds you just that little bit tighter. His mouth finds yours again, and the soft and hesitant brush of his lips, the small and playful bite as he pulls gently, tells you all you need to know in response. You love him, he loves you, that’s all there is to it, nothing more to be said. That you are together despite the obstacles (and there have been many), is a testament to the same love, the same unwavering devotion and If there was ever a couple who withstood every test of time, it would be you. Perfectly fitted puzzle pieces, the sun and moon borrowing light from each other.
So yes Rindou feels a little lame. But the lamest thing is, is that he doesn’t quite feel lame at all.
A/N: Please read this while you listen to chopin's nocturne op.9 no.2 that is my only request. I had so much fun writing this, but then again I always do when writing for Rindou. I hope you all like it, it's a little shorter than what I usually write. Would anyone be interested in me opening a ko-fi? would anyone actually commission me? I'm considering the idea. Let me know, and as always likes and reblogs appreciated. Happy 5 months again my moonlight.
taglist: @sano-obsessed @stroberrylite @islascafe @prettyiolanthe @brownsugarmoonie @wotakuhime @snakegentleman @ranyechka @severellamahottub @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @invisible-cardigan-33 @seagoddesslove @manjirosgrl @crown5 @the-travelling-witch @bladesandguns @reiners-milkbiddies @girl-by-the-lake @1900-aria @rottingreveries (let me know if you'd like to be added)
#tokyo revengers#toman#tokyo rev#tr#tokyorev x reader#tokrev x reader#rindou haitani#rindou#haitani rindou#rindou x reader#tokrev rindou#rin haitani#haitani brothers#haitani rindou x reader#hals tr ff
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Ooh what's your favorite first prince fic (per your tags on that rec list)?
I will be embarrassing her terribly, as she hates compliments, but it's @clottedcreamfudge's 'The Perils of Midsomer Residency'.
RWRB, despite being partially set in the UK, is such an American book. This is not a slight on it - in the fandom, we love it, we wouldn't be here if we didn't. From the slightly askew grasp of titles to the bit about morning telly, everything is slightly more tilted to the American eye.
What Hattie does is take that slight lean and tilts it the other way. Alex is in the UK, but that's not all. Midsomer Murders is THE cosy British crime show. It's been running for years. Orlando Bloom's first role was as a dead body in a hayloft. If you're a jobbing actor, you've been in that, Casualty, or The Bill.
In this American world of RWRB, Hattie has gently pushed it more towards the British side. She wrote it for her, which is why it's such a joy to read - she was having FUN. I read it when I am feeling low.
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Kindred - Chapter One
Kindred.
So I rewatched WW84 two nights ago and the next day I had 5k of Max Lord fic written (idk what happened). But anyway, lmk if you want to see a part 2!
Main MasterlistSeries Masterlist
AO3 Link
Chapter 2
Summary: You’ve nannied for your share of families including a lot of workaholic parents but never have you met anyone that runs themselves as ragged as Maxwell Lord seems to.
Tonight a thought occurs to you that maybe Mr. Lord just needs to let go, for one night. And maybe you could give that to him.
Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)
Word Count: 4.8k
Notes: Takes place a couple years before the events of WW84. Reader has no defined age so it can be whatever you want. I'm not sure how old Alistair is supposed to be in 84, but in this fic he's about 6ish (so no baby talk or screaming toddlers here folks!).
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Oral sex. Explicit language. Light dom/sub. Light bondage (Max's neck tie comes in handy). Max's hair is it's own warning.
...
“Hi Mr. Lord” you smile sweetly at your boss as the front door swings open to allow you inside. You’re met, as per usual, by the sight of your employer looking - in a word - exasperated. He sighs when he sees you; in relief you assume, and runs a hand through his golden chestnut locks that constantly fall across his forehead. He’s dressed smartly in a blue pin striped suit with a stark white shirt and navy tie with a gold paisley pattern which hangs loose and slightly askew around his neck. You assume he’s been tugging at it, something you noticed he does when he gets overly stressed which, granted, is pretty often.
You’ve nannied for your share of families including a lot of workaholic parents but never have you met anyone that runs themselves as ragged as Maxwell Lord seems to. You know why he does it; that he’s trying to build an empire, something to leave to his son (with whom he splits custody of with his ex-wife) and to be able to provide everything for his son that he never had. But spending so much time with his son Alistair, you see the other side of it as well and sympathize. All Alistair wants is for his father to actually get home in time to read him a bedtime story, or go to the park for a game of catch, or show up at school for Career Day like everyone else’s parents.
“Thank you for coming so quickly” Maxwell finally breathes as both his hands reach out and grab yours, gently pulling you inside. “My ex-wife had a family emergency with her mother and needed to go out of town and had to drop Alistair off. I know this is normally your week off, I appreciate you coming”
“Of course, Mr. Lord, it’s no trouble, really” you assure him. Truly you didn’t mind, you could always use the extra money. You liked the schedule with the Lord’s. Two weeks on, two weeks off. In your off time from nannying you peddled beauty products and rented a chair at a local hair salon near your apartment. Giving haircuts to suburban housewives was a great way to boost your side business of selling cosmetics and skin care products. You had clients at the salon who would often hire you to come to small lunches they would host for their girlfriends where you could give a small presentation of the products you sold and it was an easy way for you to make money and add to your growing client list. Mr. Lord had even surprised you by becoming a client. He had come home one night to you filling out orders in a receipt book at the kitchen table, a few skin care products strewn about the table as you readied to package them up and he was instantly curious as to what you were selling. You were embarrassed at first, for technically working for your other job while on the clock for him but he instantly waved you off. Alistair had already been asleep for hours and he assured you that not only did he not mind, but he was impressed by your work ethic. He handled a few of the products, carefully reading the small print on the bottles and you noted his curiosity before pulling out the catalog from your purse and suggesting a few items for him to try.
“Makes you glow like a teenager” You had smiled at him as you explained one of the serums to him and he had his checkbook out within minutes, placing his first order.
You would have to rearrange a few of the haircuts you had scheduled for this week but most of your clients were housewives with flexible enough schedules that you were confident you could rearrange them to times where Alistair would be in school, so you weren’t worried about it. And your cosmetic business was mostly a work from home endeavor anyway, aside from the few weekly home deliveries you made which could also be done during school hours. During your “on weeks” at the Lord’s you lived there. It was just easier due to Maxwell’s ever changing and highly busy schedule. He was out of the house at the early morning hours and typically didn’t return until long after the sun was set. Even most weekends he was in and out of the office, trying to be home whenever he could but with his business still being in the early stages of growth, it was a necessary evil.
You were more than just a babysitter for Alistair. You cooked and cleaned and did whatever you could to make Maxwell’s life easier. In the beginning he tried to insist you didn’t need to do as much as you did, that he knew he didn’t pay you enough for all the work you put in, but you quickly brushed him off, ensuring him that not only were you happy to do it, but it gave you something to do when Alistair was asleep or otherwise occupied. He eventually stopped trying, knowing you’d do it regardless, and every few months (presumably when he’d had a good month at work and could afford it) you’d notice a couple of extra bills in the envelope of cash he’d hand you at the beginning of your work week. It wasn’t much, but you appreciated that he appreciated you. At the end of the day you were both just trying to hustle your way through life; Maxwell was just a more successful version of yourself, in a way. You were kindred spirits, it’s probably why you got along as well as you did.
The fact that you found your boss to be devastatingly handsome didn’t hurt either, you supposed.
“Who is it Daddy?” You heard Alistair's excited voice call out as hurried footsteps came barreling towards the front entryway. He slid to a stop in his socked feet and hands instinctively wrapped around his father’s leg as he peered up at you with the same large chestnut coloured eyes as his fathers.
“It’s our Angel, come to save the day again buddy” Max smiled down at his son, ruffling a hand through his dark brown locks.
“So you’re going back to work tonight?” Alistair’s face fell slightly, along with your heart, as his fingers picked absently at the crease in Max’s pant leg.
“Hey,” You quickly sprang into action, squatting down to be eye level with Alistair and nudging at his chin with your finger to get him to look up at you. “I brought you something” you begin, a grin spreading across your lips as you reach into your purse at your side.
“A present?!” Alistair’s eye’s light up suddenly and it makes you smile.
“Well, sort of, but it’s on loan” you explain as you pull the rented VHS tape out of your bag and hold it out in front of you.
“ET!” the boy all but shrieks. His Dad had taken him to see it at the drive-in when it had first come out and he hadn’t stopped talking about it since. When Raquel, Mr. Lord’s assistant, had called you a couple hours ago to explain the situation and asking if you could step in this week, you knew the boy might be overly emotional; his grandmother being ill and his father undoubtedly rushing off to work the moment you arrived at their doorstep. You had a feeling this would cushion the blow and your instincts were right on the money as he jumped up and down excitedly at you.
“Can we put it on now?” He asked, his excitement barely contained as he bounced up and down on his heels.
“Tell you what, why don’t we order a pizza and we can watch it with our dinner”
“Yay!” Alistair shouts, turning on his heel and running off to the kitchen, undoubtedly to browse the pizza menu stuck to the fridge with a magnet.
“I’m getting pepperoni!” You hear him yell from the kitchen and you huff a laugh at his eagerness as you straighten back up and face your employer once again.
“Thank you, honestly sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you” Mr. Lord tells you honestly and you smile, placing a hand on his bicep.
“Happy to help” you tell him. And you are. Maxwell and Alistair have become this sort of part-time family of yours and you’d do anything for them.
“I better get in there before he starts dialing and orders half the restaurant” you joke before bringing your hands up to fix Max’s tie around his neck until it’s tightened and straight, your hand brushing down the silken material slightly and then patting your palm against it once.It’s something you’ve never done to him before and you have no idea what came over you in the moment, the act feeling strangely intimate but you quickly clear your throat, take a step back and give him an easy smile.
“Don’t work too hard” you tell him before you brush past him to go after Alistair, knowing he won’t actually heed the advice, but you say it anyway.
You hear the front door open and close as you reach Alistair in the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the wall to place the order and get your evening started.
…
It’s well past ten when you hear the door open again, signaling Maxwell’s arrival home. You look up from the kitchen table where you’d been flipping through a magazine and watch him as he places his briefcase on the floor before his large frame envelops the open doorway to the kitchen. He leans against the wall, tie hanging loosely around his neck again and hair falling across his forehead.
“Alistair?” He asks hopefully, though you're pretty certain he already knows the answer.
“Asleep” You shrug and his face falls slightly.
“Of course, it’s late” he sighs, pulling his arm up to look at his watch. “Lost track of time I guess” he mumbles and you frown. He looks exhausted, hands running through his hair again.
“It’s getting long” you say, not meaning too it just comes out; occupational hazard you suspect.
“What?” He questions, not sure what you mean.
“Your hair” you nod in his direction. “When was the last time you had it cut?”
“Oh, um, I'm not sure…” Max trails off, thinking. He knows it has been too long. He had to skip his last appointment because an investor meeting had come up and he’d forgotten to ask Raquel to reschedule him.
You stand up, your feet moving of their own accord until you’re standing right in front of him at the kitchen doorway and you bring your left hand up to gently run through the few stray locks that are normally slicked back but have now curtained across his forehead.
“I could trim it for you” you say, your eyes glued to his hair and not even noticing how close you’re standing to him or that his gaze is fixed on you, his Adam's apple bobbing heavy in his throat.
“I… couldn’t ask you to do that” he says finally, running his own hand through his hair as you pull yours away.
“No, really, I insist, come here” you take both your hands and grab for one of his, pulling him further into the kitchen and sliding a chair out.
“I have my stuff here, I was going to give Alistair a trim this week anyway” you shrug. “Sit, I’ll be right back” you instruct and he sighs but dutifully does as you ask.
You return a couple minutes later with your supplies and a towel that you secure around his neck. You go to the sink and fill your spray bottle with water so you can mist it through his hair to get it wet enough to cut before you begin your work.
“You have a great head of hair, I see where Alistair gets it from” you comment as your fingers rake through it from the top of his scalp to the back of his neck. It was true. A lot of your male clients around Mr. Lord’s age were already showing a receding hairline and none of them had hair as thick as his. “I don’t think you have to worry about going bald anytime soon” you joke and you hear him chuckle softly.
“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this” Max says into the stillness of the room while you continue to trim and run your hands through his hair, ensuring all the ends are even.
“It’s kind of fun when it’s not work,” you shrug. Plus you really didn’t mind running your hands through Max’s hair, not that you’d ever admit that to him. You’d been dying to do it since you met him. Soft, luscious locks begging for a pair of hands other than his own to run through them.
You finish the trim, place the scissors down on the table and take an extra few seconds to run both hands through his hair, your nails raking gently against his scalp as you style his hair the way he likes it.
“There” you smile at your handiwork before reaching for the handheld mirror on the table and holding it up for him to take. His hand wraps around yours on the handle of the mirror as he brings it in front of him, his free hand running through his hair to inspect the length.
“It’s perfect, thank you. Feels much better” he beams at you through the mirror with his megawatt smile that makes your knees weaken and you bite your lip, looking away quickly as heat rises in your cheeks.
“Just glad I could help” you tell him before you untuck the towel from the collar of his dress shirt and sweep it off his shoulders, balling it up before any loose hair falls onto the floor and placing it on the seat of a nearby chair so you can take it to the laundry room later. You're standing up straight behind him again and before you can talk yourself out of it, you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and start kneading, instantly feeling the tight knots of muscles beneath his dress shirt.
“Oh, um” Max startles slightly in the chair, turning his head as far to the side as he can to try and look at you.
“Sorry” you quickly pull your hands from his shoulders as if you’d been burned and Max turns his body in his seat so he’s sitting sideways on the chair, his elbow resting on the back.
“It’s ok” Max assures, large brown eyes looking up at you. “But, you don’t have to… I mean I don’t expect…” he trails off and you quickly come to the understanding that he’s not mad at you for touching him or doesn’t even not want you to.
An idea comes to your head as you stare down at the big puppy dog eyes of the exhausted man staring back at you. A man that deserves so much more than what life has thrown at him. It’s a risky idea, sure, and could potentially ruin everything you’ve built with this family over the last several months but something just comes over you and takes hold and you can’t seem to shake it off.
“Turn your chair around to face me, and bring it forward a bit, away from the table” you instruct, taking a few steps back so he has room. His eyes glance over you for a few moments, studying to see if you’re being serious or not before he finally swallows and nods, silently obeying your orders. He turns the chair and sits on it properly again, his hands going under the seat so he can shuffle it forward slightly so it's not backed right up against the table, his eyes never leaving you from where you stand a foot or so away, leaned against the kitchen island in front of him.
Satisfied with where he sits, you take the two steps across the kitchen to reach him again and your hands go back to his shoulders, this time rubbing up and down the material of the dark blue suspenders for a few moments before your fingers hook underneath them and slide them down his arms. You catch the shudder he releases but neither of you comment on it.
“You’re always working so hard” you sigh as you run a hand through his hair again before bringing it to run down the side of his face and his eyes close voluntarily at your touch. “Taking care of Alistair, of your clients, your business” you continue, both hands now fiddling with the tie at his neck, loosening it further.
“Who takes care of you?” You ask, though not expecting an answer, and he doesn’t give you one. Just swallows thickly instead, breathing heavily through his nose.
You successfully loosen the tie completely before sliding it off of him, wrapping the silk around your hands briefly to feel the fine fabric. You put one hand on his shoulder and step around him until you’re behind him and squat down as each of your hands grab for his arms and pull them behind his back until his wrists are together and you lay the silk fabric of the tie over top of them.
“Is this ok?” You ask, mouth next to his ear now and he quickly nods his head.
“Yes” he manages to breathe out and you go back to your task of securing the tie around his wrists, giving it a gentle tug when you're finished to make sure it's not too tight but also that he can’t wriggle free too easily.
You take a steadying breath while still behind him before raising up to your feet again. You’ve never actually done anything like this before and your hands are nearly shaking, your entire body buzzing with excitement but you try to will yourself to relax. Max needs this, and you can do it. You can give him what he needs and what he’d never ask you for.
Settling your shoulders and holding your head high, you finally step back around him until you’re in front of him again.
“Good boy” you praise him once you’re facing him again; hand coming up to rest on his cheek and he closes his eyes at the warmth of your palm against his skin.
“Poor baby, just needs someone to take care of him, don’t you?” you tease, your thumb brushing against his cheek.
“Yes, Angel” Max sighs, his eyes finally opening again to meet yours. You notice the endearment slip, the same one he had used this morning and it gives you butterflies. You take another steadying breath to reign yourself in so you don't end up untying him and letting him do whatever he wants with you. God knows you want to, but you want tonight to be just for him.
“I’m going to take good care of you, aren’t I Maxwell?” You whisper and his eyes close again upon hearing his first name come from your lips. You had always called him Mr. Lord, but tonight, he was just Maxwell.
Placing a hand on each of his shoulders, you lower yourself onto his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his and you can feel him already growing hard beneath you. Max’s chest is heaving as he tries to maintain some type of control over his body, his heart beating wildly underneath his pressed white dress shirt as your hands glide up and down from the tops of his shoulders to the middle of his chest.
“I think I like you like this” you purr, lower half grinding up against his to create some friction and a moan slips from his lips as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. “You don’t have to think, don’t have to act, just be free… just be with me, baby” you tell him before you lean forward and capture his lips with yours, both of you moaning into the kiss when your mouths open and tongues meet. His lips are soft, as soft as you’d always fantasized they’d be. His tongue explores your mouth greedily, desperate to taste every part of you, lick into every cavern. You’d always imagined he’d be a great kisser but you had no idea how amazing he’d be. You’re so lost in the kiss you almost forget your plan all together, wanting to just stay in this moment with him for as long as your lung capacities would allow. Your hands are in his hair now, fingers running through the soft waves, and he groans into your mouth before he pulls back suddenly.
“Angel, please. Let me hold you, touch you” he all but whines, squirming underneath you and you almost break, feeling defenseless against his pleas, but you hold steady and straighten up in his lap again.
“Not tonight baby. Tonight is for you. This is what I want, and you want to please me, don’t you Maxwell?”
“Yes” he nods, his voice trembling.
It’s clear that giving up control is not something Max is used to, but you know he needs it, likes it even - if the evidence currently pressing against your thigh is any indication.
“Good boy” you praise again and when his cock twitches against your leg, your eyebrows raise at him in surprise.
“You like being my good boy, Maxwell?” You tease, rewarding him with a forceful press of your pelvis into his groin and he moans, biting his lower lip.
“Yes”
“You feel so good baby” you moan, rocking into him, your hands around the back of his neck now. “So big and hard for me” you praise and a whine escapes his lips as he tries to meet your thrusts with his own as much as he can within the confines of the chair he’s tied to.
You lean your face forward until your mouth is on the shell of his ear and you gently pull the lobe between your teeth before soothing over it with your tongue. “Want you in my hand, in my mouth” you confess breathily against his ear and he whimpers. “Can I take you out baby?”
Max eagerly nods, not trusting his own voice and you nip at his earlobe again. “Words, baby” you remind him.
“Yes” he breathes. “Take my cock out, it’s yours Angel”
He sounds absolutely wrecked already and you love it. You bring your attention to his waist and pop open the button to his trousers, sliding down the zipper before your hand pushes eagerly inside to cup him over his briefs.
“Oh, baby” Max sighs, hanging his head down so he can see your hand rubbing along his shaft covered in expensive soft black cotton.
“Is this my cock, Maxwell?” You ask, feeling more emboldened by the minute as Max turns into absolute putty under your hands.
“Yes. Fuck. Yeah baby, all yours”
You remove your hand from him for just a few seconds so you can tug his pants down to his thighs and then shove the front of his briefs down so you can take him out of the confines of his underwear and see him in all his glory. And what a glorious site it is, indeed, you think to yourself.
Max hisses when you pull his length out and run your hand down it once. He’s long and too thick for you to be able to wrap your hand all the way around it. The head is dark and purple and already leaking precum. “It’s beautiful, just like you baby” you tell him before you lean forward to press a quick kiss to his lips and smile at him. “Gonna make you feel so good” you promise before easing yourself off of his lap and onto your knees instead and Max groans, tossing his head back.
You start with teasing little licks and kisses to the head before going lower and licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock and Max moans from above you. “Tastes good too” you tell him before your mouth closes around the fat head and sucks gently, causing Max to buck his hips up into you.
“Stay still” you scold, immediately taking your mouth off of him to look up at him. “Don’t be a naughty boy” you warn as you grip both of his thighs tightly.
“Oh, fuck” Max groans, eyes closing and head falling back again. It's clear he’s loving this, loving you being in control of him. Another bead of precum dribbles out and slides down his dick and you quickly duck down to catch it on your tongue and lick a stripe up his length again. This time Max remains still, his breaths coming out harder through his nose as he concentrates on remaining still.
“Good boy” you praise before bringing your whole mouth down on him, swallowing down as much of his length as your throat will allow and repeating the process over and over, head bobbing up and down on his cock with enthusiasm.
“Oh baby, shit. Holy shit Angel” Max whines as he watches you choke on his dick. Your eyelashes flutter up at him as you watch him watch you. He looks completely fucked out, his pupils blown wide, shoulders tense under the white dress shirt where he’s pulling against the restraints behind him, desperate to reach for you, to touch you.
You moan into his cock. Watching him completely lose himself in you is doing all kinds of things to your body. You can feel yourself soaking your panties, getting off on the pleasure you’re giving him and you bring a hand up to wrap around his length and work him up and down for what your mouth can’t reach.
When the back of your throat needs a break you focus your mouth on his head instead, swirling your tongue around and underneath the tip while your hand continues pumping his shaft, wet with your saliva and easily sliding up and down the length.
“Oh Angel, you feel so fucking good” Max praises.”Oh fuuuuuuck” His breathing has become even more erratic and you know he’s getting close so you double your efforts, taking his whole length in your mouth again and hollowing out your cheeks as you slide him down your throat and swallow. The sounds of wet saliva and your lips smacking and swallowing his cock are positively sinful as they bounce off the kitchen walls and back to your ears and it urges you on, bobbing faster and faster up and down his cock, your hand pumping and gently squeezing him in tandem with your mouth.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Baby!” Max whines and you know it's a warning. Rather than lifting off of him you moan into him instead and continue sucking and tugging at him, urging him to finish in your mouth.
“Oh Christ, Angel. I’m coming, I’m coming. Fuck!” Max warns before you feel his hot spend hit the back of your throat in spurts and you continue moaning and swallowing around his cock, milking him of every last drop until his hips finally still and you swallow once more before releasing him with a pop and laying your head to rest on his thigh to take a breath.
“Oh my God” Max heaves a sigh and you feel all the tension leave his body and a smile crosses your lips. You move your head forward just a little to press a kiss to his shaft before you straighten up on your knees again and tuck him back into his underwear.
“Angel, fucking untie me, please” he begs desperately and you quickly oblige him, reaching behind the chair to tug at the knot until it comes free, the silk falling to the floor and Max’s arms shoot out the moment they’re free and tug you up off the floor and back onto his lap as his strong arms circle around your back and hold you tight to his chest, hugging you like you’re a life raft and he could just float away into nothing if you weren’t there to anchor him.
“Angel you are so perfect to me” he sighs, nuzzling against the side of your face.”I… didn’t even know I needed that” he admits and you smile, leaning back so you can look at him.
“I know baby” you coo, running a hand through his hair again before resting it on his cheek. “Told you I’d take care of you”
“And… I want to take care of you, too” Max shrugs, his eyes pleading with yours as his hands run absently across your back.
“Another time” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his strong nose. Max’s shoulders fall but he nods in understanding.
“Do you promise?” He asks, bringing his large hands to run up and down your sides.
“I promise, Mr. Lord” you smile sweetly at him.
...
Chapter two
Tagging some of my Maxwell girlies @boliv-jenta @suzdin
If you wanna be tagged there is an update, lmk!
#pedro pascal#maxwell lord#maxwell lord x reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#maxwell lord fanfiction#wonder woman 1984#max lord#maxwell lord x f!reader#maxwell lord x you
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Rock salt, shotgun shells and the smell of leather seats.
I’ve been binging this series and SPN and thought a crossover between the two would make the most sense.
“And where the hell have you been?” A voice came from the front door just as you shut the door of your impala, shrugging the duffel bag you slung onto the backseats onto your shoulder as you turned to face a worried but irritated George in a large tee and grey sweats; His hair a mess and his glasses slightly askew on his face but that didn’t stop you from finding his sleepy brown eyes anymore beautiful then you normally did.
“Looks like you remember to put on pants for once.” You retorted
“Sarcastically quip your way out of this discussion all you like but that doesn’t change the fact that you willingly went on a case-concerning a type two apparition by the way in case you have forgotten the sheer panic you’ve caused us- without consulting the rest of us? Do you have a death wish?” George scoff, crossing his arm, obviously a little hurt from the fact that you ran solo at the first sign of a case.
“George-“ “don’t.” He cuts you off, “Lucy was practically inconsolable when she couldn’t find you and Lockwood was searching for you high and low and do you know what I was doing? Hmm?” He asks but you kept silent, knowing that he wasn’t done and wasn’t about to leave you any room in this discussion to make up excuses for yourself.
“I was praying. Praying for you to come home, searching any leads that could’ve lead me to your whereabouts until I found, “he rummaged into the pockets of his sweatpants to pull out a newspaper clipping of the case you had just solved, holding it between his fingers, “this interesting slip of paper tucked beneath your pillow.”
“Why was this case so important that you didn’t bother telling us?” He asks, “we could’ve helped you hand you just asked.” He adds on, his voice cracking a little from the unkept emotions trying to boil their way to the surface. You could tell he was trying hard not to break down from either relief that you were safe or anger from your habit of delving into things alone. His expressive eyes always gave his emotions away, you figured.
“Look I obviously can’t make up any excuse that will make up for the stress I’ve caused all of you-“ “understatement.” George butts in but allows you to continue after you gave him a incredulous stare. “ but I guess I wanted to see if I still got it in me to take over a hunt in the case of anything happening to all of you.” You stare at George with tears welling up in your eyes, “I can’t loose my family, I’ve already lost enough that if you, Lockwood or Lucy were to get hurt…I’d feel like that’s on me.” You say softly as you crept up the stairs leading you to George, who’s stance had noticeably changed to a softer approach when he saw the state that you were in.
“Oh you stubborn idiot.” He scolded, bringing his hands to your cheek, careful of the blossoming bruises and untreated cuts you’ve sustained as you smiled at him so wide it began to hurt and pull at the cut upon your bottom lip. “I’m your stubborn idiot.” You say cheekily, causing George to scoff lightly but his beautiful brown eyes still shone in concern as he leant his forehead to rest gently against your own. Nose brushing nose and all that.
“Let’s get you inside so we can get you patched up.” George said as he aided you Inside.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” You asked.
“Don’t push your luck.” He replied playfully as he lead you further into the house.
#lockwood and co imagines#lockwood and co imagine#Lockwood and co x reader#lockwood and co x you#lockwood imagines#Lockwood imagine#lockwood x reader#Lockwood x you#george karim x reader#george karim imagines#george karim x you#george karim imagine
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PLEASE give me rules of engagement director’s cut. i need it biblically
AAAAAH thank you!!!! I haven't gotten to talk about this fic before, I think, so let us commence the info dump <33333
The Origins
I've always been a fake dating trope fan, but I've never had an idea that made it feel like my story, you know? But I've always wanted to try!
While I was procrastinating on cleaning my apartment, I randomly thought of this dialogue, directly copied from my planning document:
“If we do this, we need to make some rules”
“Max we live together, I’m sure it’ll be fine”
“WE NEED RULES CHARLES”
My brain immediately latched on to it, and the fic was born like... two hours later hahah
My Favorite Bits
Ok so this is one of my favorite lines for the DUMBEST reason:
“Are women not…? Is it these women, or?” His voice sounded tight. They hadn’t discussed Max’s sexuality before. Actually, if Max thought about it, they never really discussed Charles’s, either. He was pretty sure Charles stayed the night at a few different women's’ flats during uni, but that was little more than speculation.
...
“That’s fine, of course. Anything is. Fine, I mean.” Charles stuttered, his cheeks still slightly pink.
“Doesn’t solve the problem though, does it?”
Was it vaguely inspired by BBC's Sherlock? Yes it was. Would anyone have noticed if I didn't confess to my sins? No.
More seriously, I also really enjoyed this little scene:
They always ate breakfast together.
Max always woke up first to get started on washing the fruit, and Charles always stumbled out of his bedroom in a state of total disarray about fifteen minutes later – hair sticking up, sweatshirt off one shoulder, pajama pants low across his hips, glasses nearly askew. They would eat breakfast together, Max happily talking about his to-dos and Charles diligently humming and nodding along as necessary. They’d get dressed, they’d walk out the door together. Max always locked it, Charles always lost his keys in the depths of his bag before he left the house.
It was easy and understandable. It was theirs.
While the rest of the story, up until this point, has hinted at the routines baked into this domesticity, I loved how this scene used that to highlight why Max found the situation so alarming. They have a distinct rhythm -- an easy cadence that I tried to mimic in the very basic structure of the paragraph -- that's so noticeable when it's disturbed.
It also shows how much Max notices about Charles, even before he realizes why. To know someone well enough that even the slightest change in timing throws a red flag is just hmmmm I love it lol
And finally, one of my last favorite scenes:
“You’re still wearing your ring,” Max pointed out rather unhelpfully. Charles let out a bleak laugh, devoid of his usual eye-crinkling warmth.
“You picked it out for me,” He shrugged, leaving something unspoken in the air. Max didn’t do well with unspoken, with reading between the lines. He tried to breathe it into his lungs, find the meaning Charles left out. Speak it.
The confession was just so full of "Max is trying his best and he doesn't entirely understand what he's done wrong but he'll do absolutely anything for him and Charles to just go back to the way it was before please please please". This line in particular highlights how much of this is Max desperately trying to understand what Charles really needs from him -- even though the answer ends up being nothing he expected.
Random Fun Lore
As always, this fic is full of random things from my actual life (for no real reason other than I'm unoriginal and boring). Some examples are:
Max's MD's summer party in the countryside: YES I have to go to this every year, YES I do get splashed by my coworkers, and YES there is far too much alcohol lol (although I do not partake like Max did but hey)
Full Recovery Mode: the very specific mug and the very specific tea that Max puts together for Charles is absolutely based on my real life (liter sized Japanese mug my beloved)
#OH and the scene where Charles had to teach Max how to hold his hand#my HEART#this fic was very much a 'head empty just vibes hit post' sort of experience#THANK U FOR ASKING ILYSM#Rules of Engagement#lestappen#ask me :)#directors commentary
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Soul Searching (Is Harder If You Have Different Maps)
Riddle (meeting timer) - Yuu (heartbeat match)
When you’re escorted back into the Hall filled with floating coffins and at least four hundred people all turn to stare at you, your heart makes an odd skip-flutter-ker-thump.
You’ve had many, many anxious responses to crowds of strangers scrutinizing you throughout your life.
That was not one of them.
Well. Great. Wonderful! You’ve somehow ended up at a school for magicians after dreaming about (maybe actually?) dying to a, a monster, and nearly being barbecued by a talking, fire-breathing tanuki. Of course you’d meet your soulmate here as well! In a crowded room where you have zero idea which of the many, many people it is! Sure! Why not?
It’s almost enough to distract you from the talking magic mirror telling you that you have no magic and that Japan apparently doesn’t exist.
You’re so busy trying to find a way home, then defeating ghosts, then trying to catch Ace, then Grim, trying to get the magistone, not dying to the weird ink monster, then trying to keep Grim in line and make him attend classes, that you all but forget about your soulmate conundrum.
Until you’re at lunch with Ace, Deuce, Clover-senpai, and Diamond-senpai, and Ace complains, “What the hell crawled up his ass and died? Seriously the dorm head’s as narrow minded and strict as they come—he bit my head off for eating just one slice of tart!”
Clover-senpai and Diamond-senpai trade a Look.
“You know Ace-Chan, everyone’s fighting a battle that you can’t see!” Diamond-senpai chirps. “Plus Riddle really, really likes eating the first slice, so…”
“He can be a bit…” Clover-senpai trails off, dropping a hand to his wrist. His thumb smoothes over the fabric there. “But he’s also dealing with some…personal issues on top of all of his responsibilities, so try to be understanding, okay?”
Your mind is racing at the sight of Clover-senpai’s hand on his pulse, wondering, half-hoping, half-dreading—!
“What did his Timer drop off or something?” Ace scoffs, lifting his arm and twisting his hand so his sleeve slides down. “Because, newsflash! He’s not the only one to have his Timer reach Zero at the entrance ceremony! I’m pretty sure most of our year did!”
Deuce is also saying something, disagreeing you think, but you can’t concentrate at the sight of what Ace has exposed.
On his wrist, right over his pulse, is an ornate clock face. It looks like a weird cross between a tattoo and an actual stopwatch, if stopwatches had intricate detailing, five hands, and mostly Roman numerals except for a O replacing the 12.
“What is that?” You breathe, peering closer at it.
Ace gives you a bewildered stare. As do Deuce, Diamond-senpai, and Clover-senpai. And Grim.
“…That’s his Timer, Prefect.” Deuce says, at last. At your confused look, he continues, “You know, how you find your soulmate? It counts down until…yeah.”
“It counts down until you meet your soulmate?” You ask, equally unnerved by the concept and the Looks you’re receiving.
“Usually it’s until you and your soulmate lock eyes.” Clover-senpai says tactfully. “But yes, that is the general gist.”
“That sounds…” You try to digest this. “…that sounds awful. Like, how does the clock know when you’re meant to meet, let alone who? Is it watching you? Is it sentient somehow? And you don’t even get any explicit confirmation when you do meet? How do you know it’s actually your soulmate? Is it just picking the most convenient placeholder? How do you not go mad second-guessing everything?”
There’s an unsatisfactory silence from the boys around you.
“I—wh—?” Clover-senpai’s glasses have gone slightly askew. “Prefect, do you not have a…?”
You tug your sleeves down a bit, showing off your bare wrists. “That’s not how soulmates work where I’m from.”
Your heartbeat picks up.
“Wait, wait, time-out for a hot sec.” Diamond-senpai holds up his hands to make a t-shape. “You said that’s not how soulmates work where you’re from. But you do have soulmates?”
You nod. “Well, yeah.”
The idea of a place existing where people don’t…well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
“So how do you find them?” Deuce asks. “If your world doesn’t have Timers.”
“Our heartbeats.” You rest your fingers over where your pulse is growing faster, trying to take deep breaths and think calming thoughts. “When you lock eyes with your soulmate, your heart begins beating in time with theirs. You’ll feel their joy and fear and love until the day you both die. Though it’s hardly a failsafe method either…”
“Whoa.” Grim gasps, a tiny paw resting on his own chest.
“…That is creepy as all hell.” Ace says with a shudder.
“No it’s not!” You protest, scandalized, heartbeat quickening yet again in spite of your efforts.
“No, you look at somebody and one of your organs gets a signal to begin acting like it’s not even in your freaking body anymore!” Ace argues. “And, oh yeah, it’s the one that kind of controls whether you live or die.”
“Oh, and I suppose some creepy voyeuristic watch embedded into your skin is so much better.” You retort.
Ace opens his mouth, ready to fire back—and freezes. You notice his face paling, his expression going from irritated to terrified.
Your heart is pounding like you’re running for your life again.
You slowly twist around on the bench.
Dorm Head Rosehearts is standing behind you.
“Off With Your Head!”
The benches for the cafeteria tables should have backrests, you reflect from your new position on the floor. It’d make it much harder for undignified, flailing backwards falls to happen when surprise collars are magick’d onto your person.
Dorm Head Rosehearts doesn’t even explain what you’ve done to merit this punishment.
Just storms out of the cafeteria, you and your racing heart in prime position to view his (tall) (sharp) (step on meNO) heels clicking away from you on the tile.
Ace and Deuce help you struggle back upright in time to see Diamond-senpai and Clover-senpai exchange another Look.
You’ve got a sinking feeling that’s only partially inspired by their plan for you and Ace to “make it up to Riddle” by baking him a Mont Blanc.
So the Mont Blanc tart doesn’t go well.
The probably-not-custodian of the greenhouse laughs you out of the building when he sees the collar around your neck. Grim eats far more raw chestnuts than can possibly be good for him, even after saying they “taste bad”. Ace almost puts in oyster sauce because he’s not entirely convinced Clover-senpai was messing with him. You give Deuce an existential crisis over unfertilized eggs.
And that’s before you even get to the Unbirthday Party.
At the sight of you, Dorm Head Rosehearts’ lips thin. But he continues directing the Unbirthday Party as though nothing’s happened, so you take it as win.
That is, until the tart is presented.
It could be you imagining things, but you’d swear for a moment that after you and Ace present the Mont Blanc that his eyes flicker to you and his expression is almost…pleased?
Things go downhill from there.
Rules are quoted. The tart is rejected because of a particularly idiotic one. The words “idiot” and “tyrant” may get thrown around, though in fairness you didn’t mean to say it out loud at first. You all end up with collars and exiled from the Unbirthday Party in disgrace.
The attempted duel doesn’t go well either.
As it turns out, even with the plan you, Ace and Deuce tentatively workshopped to try to subvert his insane levels of magic power won’t work if he’s too fast for them to even put it into action.
Your pulse remains calm and steady throughout the entire “battle”.
“Huh.” Dorm Head Rosehearts says brightly. “It didn’t even take five seconds. And you thought you could challenge me with those skills. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
His expression darkens as he folds his arms across his chest. “This just proves that rule violators are always in the wrong. Just as mother said.”
When you were little, you’d often wonder about what your soulmate would be like. Whether they would make your family like you more, make every day more bearable to the point of being fun, or if they would just like you for you, giving you the chance to escape together.
You never thought it would be possible for you to experience such intense feelings of dislike towards the boy you’re (at least 80%) sure is your soulmate.
Admittedly, most of it is towards his mother, and the fact that he had to develop this mindset to survive in the first place. You can even sympathize with that, hold it as a potential point of rapport between you, though the two of you diverged in your coping mechanisms. But the collar that’s hanging heavy around your neck and the way he insists on flaunting his presumed superiority over those he’s beaten leaves a bitter, ugly feeling in your stomach.
You’re brought out of your musings by Deuce proclaiming, “You’re right that rules should be followed. But enforcing absurd ones left and right makes you a tyrant!”
“Ha?” The sneer on Dorm Head Rosehearts’ face has no right to make your blood boil like it does. “Rule breaking has consequences. And in this dorm, I am the rules. Those who refuse to obey don’t have the right to complain when I take their heads!”
You can’t keep your scoff inside any more. “You don’t get to do whatever you want because ‘it’s the rules!’ That’s the kind of logic a child uses.”
Especially, you think to yourself, as that mindset will only go so far before a bigger fish comes along and the “rules” change to benefit them instead.
You learned that the hard way.
“A child’s logic? I could say much the same of how you choose to behave.” He turns to you, eyes thinning as a cruel smirk grows. “If you can’t even follow a simple rule, just what was your education like? You were probably born of parents that can barely use magic, if at all, and didn’t receive much in terms of schooling before coming here. Not worth anyone’s time to correct, because how can you nurture talent in the talentless? You’re utterly inadequate.”
It doesn’t hurt.
You tell yourself it doesn’t hurt. Even as your nails bite into your palms. You’ve been told this before. You’ve been told worse before. It doesn’t hurt, coming from him. It doesn’t.
“Someone magicless like you.” He hisses, venemous, “Could never hope to pretend to be partnered to a soul like mine.”
There’s a sharp, fierce pain in your chest.
You suck in a breath, because this doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t, you’ve had worse, you have, you’ve spent your meager life getting rejected, not being enough, who cares if the other half of your soul does it too, you, you can’t—!
“SHUT THE HELL UP!!”
You don’t quite understand what you’re seeing at first, too caught up in the sensation of a slow tearing of your very being.
A flash of black uniform, ginger hair. Your soulmate stumbling, nearly falling from the force of the blow that’s snapped his head to the side.
Grim cheering on what is admittedly a beautiful right hook while the rest of the dorm screams about Ace punching out the dorm head.
“Aah, I don’t give a shit. About the dorm leader, about the duel, about your sad upbringing, none of it.” Ace growls, shaking out his fist. “Kids aren’t their parents’ trophies, and a kid’s achievements don’t define their parent’s worth, but you refuse to get that. I finally understand that the reason you’re such a bastard isn’t just your parents’ fault! It’s because you push away anyone who could tell you what you’re doing is wrong! This whole situation is your own damn fault! You’d even fuck over your own soulmate, just because you’re still scared of the impossible standards your mom set! ‘Mama this’, ‘mama that’, try thinking for yourself for once! You’re no leader, you’re just a baby who’s good at magic!”
“You—You don’t know anything…You don’t know anything about me!” The way your heart is pounding in your chest is making you slightly worried about his blood pressure.
“Like anyone could, with that attitude.” Ace backs up until he’s level with you and Deuce again, slinging one arm round your shoulders. “I do know that even the Prefect deserves better than a whiny baby tyrant.”
“Ace!” Deuce hisses, admonishing, in the same breath as you mutter, “Even?”
“ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH!! SHUT UP!!” Rosehearts howls, and oh, you’re not sure people are meant to go that red in the face. Especially not when he’s leveling a magic pen at the four of you. “My mother was in the right! That means that I AM DEFINITELY IN THE RIGHT!!”
“Riddle, calm down. The duel is already over!” Clover-senpai barks.
“Th-that’s right!” The useless bird of a headmaster finally steps between you. “It’s as Mr. Clover says. The challenger is disqualified for his outburst! Continuing to escalate will violate school regulations!”
Which is when the egg hits the side of Dorm Head Rosehearts’ face.
To say it’s horrifying to watch your soulmate turn into the same kind of monster that broke your ribs and nearly killed you in the Dwarf Mines is an understatement.
It’s like a nightmare come to life. You watch as the foul, inky substance—blot— swallows Riddle Rosehearts whole, a grotesque shadowy thing looming behind him and almost puppeting his movements.
You feel the thorns from the rose trees bite into you. It’d be stupid to pretend you didn’t, that you were so consumed with devotion to the other half of your soul that all physical aches and pains seemed to vanish. No, you definitely feel it when an extra-thorny briar wraps around your ankle, hoists you into the air, digging in and tearing before Trey-senpai can vanish it with Doodle Suit. At least one of Cater-senpai’s copies catches you before you hit the ground.
But even with all the powerful magic flying around, and your injuries that you’re certain will put you back in the nurse’s office again, you can’t deny that you throw yourself headfirst into coordinating Ace, Deuce, and Grim against the overblot, yelling out directions even as Crowley, Trey-senpai, and Cater-senpai tried to get you to run, before the latter two stopped fussing and started helping.
Especially as through the entire battle, you notice that your shared heartbeat is gradually slowing, as if the life is being leeched away with every pump.
Your soulmate may not like you. He may hate you. The moment Riddle Rosehearts comes to his senses, he might reject the bond anyway, cast you asunder. And it will hurt. Of course it will. But it’ll at least be him doing it.
You’re not going to lie down and die quietly to the monster eating through his magic and life any more than you’re going to let it take him.
It’s kinda weird to see him cry.
Dorm Head Rosehearts has spent all the time you’ve known him (which is admittedly only a few days) being this indomitable force terrorizing Heartslaybul dorm. Prone to flying off the handle, yes, but you’ve come to expect anger and yelling more than tears and apologies.
It makes you feel weirdly disarmed, wishing you had a tissue or a handkerchief to offer or something.
Still. It’s better than kneeling there, waiting for his eyes to open with one hand pressed to your chest so you’ll know if his heart’s still beating.
You’re almost glad when Ace yells, “‘I’M SORRY’ CAN’T FIX THIS MESS!! THERES NO WAY IM JUST GONNA FORGIVE YOU LIKE THAT!!”
Even though most of you wanted to forgive him the moment the waterworks started, having Ace complain about all the stuff you’ve gone through and wrangle a tart in return helps settle the part of you that’s still sore and aching from the rejection you received.
You and Dorm Head Rosehearts are told to go straight to the nurse’s office, as you suspected. Trey-senpai is all but carrying Riddle, while what you think is one of Cater-senpai’s clones supports your weight and helps you hop down the path out of Heartslaybul and towards the mirror that will lead into the school.
You leave Grim with Deuce, Ace, and what you think is the real Cater-senpai to help clean up, with strict instructions not to let your monster-cat-tanuki eat any more of the lawn.
For most of the journey, you’re turning over the information you’ve learned almost feverishly. So, what you fought was called an ‘overblot’, and it happens when a magician reaches a certain threshold of magic use or stress. So was the monster you, Ace, Deuce and Grim fought in the mine also a person at one point? It produced the same black rock that Grim ate off the ground then too. Was there anything left of the original person at all that could’ve been saved? But when it happened to Dorm Head Rosehearts, it was killing him, you could feel it. So what—?
“I, I am sorry.”
You blink, momentarily stunned.
Dorm Head Rosehearts—no, Rosehearts-senpai?—is staring at you in earnest as he says this. You think you see his gaze flicker down to your bleeding ankle, your blank wrists, but it’s on your face again by the time you blink.
“I’m sorry for what I said, before…before.” He actually hangs his head. “It, it wasn’t appropriate for me to say, and, and it was. Untrue. And cruel. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I regret it. I always will.”
“Riddle…” Trey-senpai’s getting the coddling look in his eye again.
Cater-senpai’s copy stares meaningfully at you. If he weren’t supporting your weight right now, you think he’d give you an elbow nudge.
“Well.” Your breath hitches as a misplaced hop jars your ankle again. “I’d like to say that I’ve heard worse, but. It did…it did hurt. Coming from you.”
“O-oh.” Rosehearts-senpai—no, Riddle-senpai’s shoulders round, as though you’ve added a weight to them. If you’re being emotionally honest with each other, you’ve earned given-name status, you think. “That’s…that’s fair.”
You all get a little further down the hall, before you blurt. “I, I’m sorry too. For calling you, you know. An idiot. At the Unbirthday party. It was uncalled for.”
You hear Riddle-senpai make a small huff that you think might be a laugh. “But not a tyrant?”
“Well if the shoe fits…” You shrug before catching a glimpse of his indignant face. “I’m kidding. But, I will let you know if you start getting, you know. Like that. Again. We all will.”
“That’s fair.” His voice sounds much quieter than before. “Thank you.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Cater-senpai making a gagging motion to Trey-senpai who rolls his eyes in response.
Your motley band continue down the echoing stone corridors.
“Sakura mochi.”
Riddle-senpai twists to look at you past Trey. “I beg your pardon?”
“My favorite food is sakura mochi.” You say, keeping your eyes forward as you limp towards the nurse’s office.
“I’m not going to ask you to make it like Ace, because I don’t know how and I’m not sure you even have all the ingredients here. But if we’re…” You make a gesture that’s as inexplicable to you as it must be to your audience. “…going to try doing…this, whatever this is, it’ll be better to start with a clean slate. Or, well. As clean as we can make it. So. My favorite food is sakura mochi. What’s yours?”
There’s a long silence.
You’re kicking yourself, opening you mouth to say that he can forget about it, he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to—
“Strawberry tart.”
His voice sounds small, almost timid.
You snicker a little. “Really? No wonder you got so mad when Ace ate your slice then.”
“Well,” He shrugs, leaning more against Trey-senpai. “A lot happened that day. Someone desecrated the statue of the Queen of Hearts. I tried to go and talk to the magicless person who made my Timer Zero out, but they were nowhere to be found and Headmaster Crowley told me he was preparing to expel them, along with two first years from Heartslaybul for breaking a chandelier. And then one of the second years forgot his pink while feeding the flamingoes, and Crewel-Sensei gave us more homework because Floyd Leech played up in Alchemy, and Draconia-san didn’t show up to the Dorm Heads’ meeting again, and—and then I went for a midnight snack.”
You let out an undignified snort. “You know that doesn’t excuse everything that came after, right?”
“I know that!” Riddle-senpai shouldn’t be so pretty when he blushes. It’ll be no good for you whatsoever. “Now. Now I know that. It was just. It was a long day.”
“It sounds like it. Still. At least you’ll get to have another one soon. With all of us, this time.”
You smile at him, heart pounding.
And, miracle of miracles, he smiles back.
#twisted wonderland#twst#villainous paranoiac yuu#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#twst yuu#twisted wonderland yuu#riddle x yuu#soulmates#different soulmates method au#soulmate timer#matching heartbeats#in which riddle responds to finding his soulmate#by writing them a letter telling them to get out of his school
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